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marvelsbetch · 3 years

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Peter Parker’s field trip. Part 1

Warnings: Trans!Peter, Spidypool, sex references, superfamily, transphobia, supportive avengers

Tony POV

I was in my lab waiting for Peter, my newly adopted son, to come home from school when Friday told me I had an email from Peters school. Turning to my phone I opened the email and was completely annoyed. The email read

'Dear Parent/Carer of Patricia Parker,

We are delighted to inform you that we have a surprise field trip for the student to none other than Stark Laboratories. The trip with be a residential starting on March 7th with a trip to Stark Tower, staying the night there with Mr Tony Stark-Rodgers and then having a trip to the Avengers Tower where we will have the opportunity to meet the Avengers and ask them questions. This is a once in a life time opportunity and we hope you allow your daughter to attend. Also, we would like to keep the trip as a surprise for the student so we urge you not to tell them the destinations of the trip.

Yours Sincerely,

Mrs Robbins.'

I was livid. My child Peter is a boy. I do not have a daughter I have a son. I couldn't believe the nerve of this teacher so I stormed out of my lab and in to the main living area of the penthouse and saw my handsome husband lay on the couch watching tv. He looked so calm and collected but I feel this might change.

"Honey, I just got this email from Peters school that I think you should have a look at." I told him handing him my phone.

He looked confused at first but then the anger set in and by time my phone was placed back in my hand he had an evil smirk on his face. I had an idea of why he had that smirk but just to be sure I asked him,

"What's the smirk for?" I asked.

"Tell the teacher our son can go on the trip while I make a few phone calls. Nobody purposely misgenders my son and gets away with it." He is trusted before grabbing his cell phone and walking down the corridor to one of the training room. Probably going to blow off a little steam and anger. Might watch in a little while.

After a second I simply responded to the email stating'

I as Peters legal guardian allow my son to attend this field trip. Is there any additional information that we should be aware of?' It seemed like the appropriate response.

In all honesty I had Pepper invite the school to the towers as a reward for how well they did at the decathlon competition. I was not expecting to receive an email like this.

-5 hours later-

Peter arrived home shortly after the email incident and was greeted to everyone being in the room. Everyone being Me, Cap, Bucky, Nat, Banner, Pepper, Sam, T'Challa, Shuri, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Loki, Clint and Strange along with the Guardians on a Skype call on the tv. We told him it was a spur of the moment gathering as well all missed each other, not an entire lie, but in reality we were plotting to a) embarrass Peter as much as possible on the field trip and b) get back at the teacher for what they did.

We decided to order enough pizza for an entire 3rd world country and discuss Peter's school life as we ate.

"So Peter, has anyone been giving you trouble lately in School? You can tell us the truth." Steve, Peter's other father and my husband, asked.

"No everything just fine." He terribly lied.

"Come on kid. I've known you for almost two years now, don't try and lie. If there's anyone giving you any type of shit for whatever reason please know that you can tell us." I explained to him all of a sudden getting very serious. I could see him fighting with himself on weather to tell us something or not but decided not to as he then said he had homework to do and went to his room.

"So, he's either lying or the teacher isn't as bad as we think." Loki observed.

"No, he was lying. I could feel his conflict and pain in remembrance of what people have said to him. I'm not one for violence but someone needs to pay for what he's been dealing with." Wanda told us with tears in her eyes.

Cap and Barton walked over to comfort her and hopefully stop her crying. My blood started boiling, Wanda was a strong person and if what Peter's going through brings her to tears then that's a lot for one person to go through. What else has this teacher or student done? Why won't he tell us? Does he not trust us? That last question broke my heart.

"Baby, you okay?" I hear Steve ask moving towards me and holding both my hands in his.

"No. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at any one who hurt my son. I'm pissed at us for not making sure he knows he can talk to us. And I'm pissed at the world for making his go through all of this." I told him with tears coming to my eyes.

Steve pulled me close to my chest and held me tight. He stroked his hands through my hair as he tried to calm me down. I could tell he was mad to, we all were, but he was trying to hold it in despite everyone being here to essentially punish this teacher was his idea. Embarrassing Peter was mine.

"Right, so what do we do about this? I'm not letting anyone hurt my nephew and get away with it." Nat said sitting up and pulling a knife from who knows where to sharped her nails. That women scares me so much.

"How about we just drop in during the day and make sure one of us is always with him. If he has one of us always there and we make it apparent that we know and support him the I doubt even someone as bigoted as his teacher is going to say something. Then we can embarrass him when we're with him." Sam suggested.

"I like that. Where are we all going to be stationed?" Loki asked.

"Well if I speak to the tour guide I could get Banner to give them a lesson on Gamma radiation as the first. Then, Barton or somebody drops in. After that they will be taken to a different lab with Shuri and T'Challa. By that time it should be lunch where Thor and Loki could drop in and the guardians land near the level 7 outside cafeteria. Then we can have Sam drop some stuff from above like a water balloon or something and Bucky bake his favourite cookies to bring to him. After Lunch they're looking around some other labs where Shuri could also be along with Banner. I think they're also going to be visiting the training rooms so Nat, Cap, Bucky and T'Challa could be fighting and Wanda, Vision and Strange could be training their magic." I suggested feeling better now that we were planning this.

March 6th

-Peter's POV-

I was in Chemistry faintly heading the teacher, Mrs Robbins, drone on and on about ionic bonding and how it differs to covalent bonding. It was something I already knew so I didn't need to listen until Ned started hitting my arm. Turning to look at him he simply nodded to the direction of the teacher. I turned around just to catch two words that made my heart drop.

"-Field trip!" Our teacher cheered with a big smile on her face.

Field trip? To where and why?

"That's right, we have organised a surprise field trip for you all as a reward for how well you've all done on your recent exams. Only the top 20 student of the entire school will have the privilege of going. The destination will be a surprise but I will say to bring an overnight bag and money for food and such. You're parents have already got an email consenting for your attendance and the bus will be leaving at 8am tomorrow so don't be late." She further explained.

The whole surprise field trip thing made me nervous beyond all belief. I may not technically be a Parker anymore but the luck definitely followed me and the idea of having to go on an overnight field trip made me terrified. Also, our parents got an email. This means that either Dad (Tony) or Pops (Steve) knew about this probably weeks ago and didn't tell me, this only fulled my anxiety.

Soon the bell went signalling the end of the day and our temporary liberation from this educational prison. On the way out Mrs Robins pulled me aside. It confused me at first until she put our most recent test infront of me. My name circled in big red circles, I know what's about to happen.

"Patricia, you must stop this. You're name is not Peter, you're not a boy. You were born a girl and therefore are, there is no picking and choosing with what God gave you. You must understand this by now. This little joke has gone too far that you're name has been requested to change on our register. Get it through you're head that you are not a boy and you will go to hell for thinking otherwise. One more incident like this and you'll have detention for the rest of the year. Got it?" She basically shouted at me pointing to my circled name on the test.

"No. My name is Peter and I am a boy, I don't care what God assigned me because he got it wrong. I am a boy and my name is Peter as we have gotten it legally changed." I rebutted getting impatient with her ignorance.

"Don't speak to me like that young man. You have no right to change Gods idea and destiny for you. Just thing, you're a girl meaning you can have kids and spread God's message to others and have many kids. Just what God planned for all women." She told me trying to sound sweet but came off and incredibly patronising.

At this point I was too angry to listen to her bulls**t (Gotta keep it Steve friendly people) so I stormed out the room. She started yelling for me to come back to the classroom but I didn't listen and continued walking till I reached the car Happy was in to take me home.

I got in the car and started telling Happy about my day while playing classic songs on my phone such as Highway to Hell, You gave love a bad name and Living on a Prayer. He pretended like he didn't care but I could tell he was listening and hanging onto every word I was saying. I love that about Happy, he acts like he doesn't care but in reality he does and he does a lot. He once caught Flash saying stuff about me and threatened to hit him with the car, he almost did as well but we were running late to a meeting I had to go to with Dad. Of course that didn't stop Flash as he still likes to torment me daily but he now does it more secretly making it more bearable.

We soon made it home and I found all of my dysfunctional family,minus the guardians who were on a Skype call, sat in the living room watching a movie on the tv. I quickly set my bag down on the kitchen island and settled right next to Tony (Dad) who was cuddling Cap (Pops). Everyone was asking me questions about my day and school life in general. They focused mostly on if people were bullying on me. It worried me a little because as much as I know I can go to them, I don't want to because I know that if I tell them everything that's happened they'll kill people and I don't want that for my family. Half of them only just got pardoned and I don't want the governments to revoke that.

"Sorry guys but I got homework. The pizza was delicious, is it okay if I invite Wade around?" I pleaded with Pops knowing he's more likely to say yes.

"Yes but that door stays open hound man. Do I make myself clear?" Pops asked in a stern voice.

"Crystal." I responded before taking out my phone to call Wade, grabbed my bag and walked to my room.

"Hey Baby Boy, what's up?" Wade asked after picking up his phone.

"Not much, Pops said you could come around." I told him making him slightly squeal.

"Okay Baby Boy, I'll be there in 10 minutes. I love you." Wade informed.

"I love you to Babe." I said before hanging up with a smile on my face.

-10 minutes later-

I was sat at my desk finishing my algebra homework when I heard someone knock on the window. Knowing it was Wade I turned with a smile on my face and let him in.

"Hey Baby Boy, how was your day?" Wade asked making himself comfortable on my bed.

"It was fine, quite boring if I'm honest. We did get told about this residential field trip tomorrow though. Sorry I won't be here for most of the weekend. I'm sure my Dads will love having you around." I joked sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest.

"It's fine Pete. I'll just have to savour our time together now." He said wiggling his eyebrows and kissing me passionately.

"My Pops said to keep the door open." I told him pulling away with a massive blush spread across my cheeks.

"Does that rule apply to your en-suite?" Wade asked.

"I don't believe so." I answered getting up from his lap and dragging him into my en-suite, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night.

To be continued...

#adopted peter parker #bi peter parker #gay peter parker #peter parker #spidypool #superfamily #supportive avengers #gay steve rodgers #steve x tony #steveony #ironfam #lqbtq #lgbt pride #trans peter parker #wade wilson #deadpool #pansexual deadpool #field trip #peter parker field trip

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bumblebee-moreno · 3 years

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Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

#Din djarin #Javier Peña #Agent Whiskey #Frankie Morales #Max Phillips #marcus pike #marcus moreno #gender neutral reader #gn reader #pedro pascal

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lu-undy · 3 years

Text

Un-alone, Chapter 17

Here it is!

“So, how’s your uncle?”

“Not too bad. I was tellin’ the others that he probably could come but the physio’s insisting for him to not rush things. At his age, stuff takes a real amount of time to heal up.” Mundy took a sip of his drink while Larry returned to one of the couches. Richie went to the other end of the counter, tending to other customers. That left Mundy and Mark alone.

“How long before you think he’ll be alright?”

“Physio reckons it’s gonna be an extra month, maybe a month and a half.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Why? Does he owe you money or somethin’?” Mundy chuckled.

“No, I just miss talkin’ to him. He’s a cool guy.”

“Could still visit him at home. I'm sure he’ll be happy to see some people.” Mundy said, without thinking too much.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean…”

“If you don’t wanna, it’s fine.” Mark answered, and now for Mundy, it was clear. Mark was not asking to visit his uncle as much as he was scouting Mundy’s heart. As one would dip his toe in the water of a calm lake to measure its temperature, Mark was testing Mundy’s mood, where he stood with respect to him.

“Wanna play some darts?” The blonde asked.

“Sure.”

Better leave it blurry, Mundy thought. There was no point anyway… Or was there?

Both men stood a few metres away from the target and Mark threw his first dart.

“Ha, not bad, eh?” He proudly said.

“Yeah, true.” Mundy closed one eye and took aim. He looked at the target and saw the blurry dart in front of his face. “Hm!” He threw it.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me…!” Mark laughed and shook his head. “A bullseye? on the first try?”

“Well, if there’s somethin’ I can do, it’s aim.” Mundy said and took a step away for Mark to replace him in front of the target.

“Oh, that I know, Aussie.” Mark threw the second dart. “Ha! I’m gettin’ closer, man!”

Mundy smiled under his hat. He took Mark’s place and shot again.

“What?! How d’you do it?!”

“Told ya.” Mundy’s raspy voice chuckled through his words. “I can aim.” He raised intense eyes to Mark. The American looked left and right.

“Wanna get harder targets?”

“Pff, Mark-”

“It’s ok if you don’t like the challenge, eh.” The blonde quipped. “I’ll just let you win and assume it’s your luck.”

“Told you, Mark, I’m a hunter, gimme darts, arrows, a rifle, anything, and I can aim with it.”

“I'm a hunter too.”

“Are ya now? Where’s your game then?”

“Maybe…” Mark looked left and right. He took a step towards Mundy, leaving hardly a few inches between them. “... I need a few lessons from someone who's clearly better than me, and a little bit older, huh?”

“You could ask yer Dad.”

Mark's head swooshed to Larry on the couch.

“He’s too busy right now, I wouldn’t want to bother him while he plays God knows what with his friends.”

“So you prefer to bother me?” Mundy answered and the blonde raised lustful eyes to him. Ha, Mundy had never been too good at telling the hints, seeing the signals, but the way that Mark stared at him with his hazel eyes was louder than sirens.

“Yeah.” Mark blinked delicately, or maybe he fluttered his eyes slightly. “So? Is your van free for another lil’ trip?”

Mundy pondered for a split second. His head was showing him wild pictures. Was it worth it? Would he end up living in New Mexico with Mark? Would he introduce him to his parents? Nah, he wouldn’t. Mark was way too hot-headed, Mundy did not really like that. But…

But his guts screamed at him. It had been a while since anyone had hit on him, and his ego was more than pleased with it all. The colder Mundy looked at Mark, the colder he behaved with him, the harder the young American clung to him. Gosh, Mundy loved the feeling, looking down in his eyes and seeing how much the other wanted him… When was the last time that it happened? Far too long.

“Alright.”

THe night was as dark as the last time that it had happened and the privacy of the van wasn’t enough for Mundy. He raced through the dry and golden desert of New Mexico, which now was as deep as the night could be. The Moon wasn’t there.

“Oh, yeah, M-Mundy… Take me - arh!”

The Aussie shut his head and listened to his body, to his blood pumping everywhere, to this feeling of sharing something with someone, doing something exceptionally not alone. Well, yeah, he could just lay there in his bed and do it with his hand. But nah, he was there with someone. And as Mundy looked under him at the man laying on his stomach, he felt everything mix within him. As the thrusts of his hips resounded in the slapping of his sweating skin against Mark’s, as the groans of the blonde filled him, as the golden streaks of sweat raked Marks skin under the old, yellow light in the van, Mundy realised he heard nothing and saw nothing either.

Only his thoughts were there. The same thoughts he had when he was alone. Was that person the right one? Did he like them? Was there something in his heart that would push him to do the unthinkable for that person? Would he drop hunting for them? Would he drop hunting beasts for them? Would he drop hunting… men? Would Mark fill the part of himself that unbearably itched for decades now? Could Mundy let that itch irritate him and burn him instead of deafening it as best as he could with one-night stands?

What did his heart think? Heart? Heart? Is there anything there for Mark and me or…?

Ah, yeah, well…

“Mundy, I’m gonna-I’m gonna… Arh!”

Mundy almost stopped thrusting as he rose back from his daydream. The blonde had somehow risen to his knees and elbows, and as Mundy recovered his ability to see, he realised that Mark had been frantically using his hand on himself until, well, the end. And it pulled the Aussie to finish too.

“Oh, man… It was even better than last time…” Mark concluded as he rolled on his back.

Mundy’s lips pursed into a smile, but the voice inside him still banged at his heart’s door.

Heart? Heart! Tell me! You can’t just not answer! C’mon! Tell me if I can hope for something with this bloke? Yes or no?! How hard can it be?!

He banged again and again, as both him and Mark cleaned up and lay down to sleep, this time together, in the narrow bunk inside the van.

Heart?

-- A few weeks later --

It had become a habit. Mundy would meet with Mark and spend his nights with him, without either of them questioning it. And it took less and less for Mark to ask him. As of late, a simple nod of the head towards the pub’s main door sufficed to signal to Mundy that the American was in the mood.

Mundy indulged every time. Why? Because it never felt bad to have someone to do it with rather than his own hand, to be blunt. But of course, the more they met, the more Mundy wondered. And the more he wondered, the more he harassed his own heart and his head for an answer, because quite frankly, if he asked what he had below the belt, his relationship with Mark could last forever…

During his days, Mundy became more familiar with the geography of the city and the overall State of New Mexico. He appreciated dearly the patch of desert not too far from his Uncle’s and spent time there when he wanted a corner of solace, an outer haven. And he spent his time there alone, as always. Not that he would fight anyone who would like to join him, but no one ever did want to come along.

Not even Mark.

Mundy had asked him one day.

“D’you wanna stay here tomorrow mornin’?”

Mark was half asleep, naked next to the Aussie in his warm van.

“Nah…”

“You sure?”

“What would we do here in the middle of nowhere?” The American spoke half into the pillow.

“We could spend the day huntin’, under the sun, just you and me. We’d be far from people and uh, y’know, just enjoyin’ ourselves.”

Mark chuckled in the pillow.

“You’re a funny guy, Mundy… See ya tomorrow.”

The Aussie thought about that slice of conversation again and again, it was playing on loop in his mind as if it had been recorded on a broken disc. Was Mark just too tired to have a chat after their usual meeting? Or did he genuinely laugh at Mundy’s suggestion?

The Aussie sighed. In the silence of his lonely van, he thought about it. Hold on. Mundy may not know Mark’s intentions but he knew how he behaved. The American would always ask to be cleaned, then roll to his side and sleep. The only thing Mundy would hear from him was sometimes praise of his performance of the day, and a “Night, night.”. Well, then maybe he did not really laugh at him…?

The Aussie finally decided to exit his van. He had been parked in front of the pub for a long enough while, just lost in thought. He needed a distraction, and a beer would surely-

“Hey, Aussie.”

Mundy gasped.

“Oh, hey, Mark. Sorry, I didn’t see ya.”

“No worries.” The blonde chuckled. “You came here early today.”

“So did you.” Mundy answered.

“I’m just playin’ the taxi driver for my Dad. He wanted to have a chat with Richie to organise the next big party here. Samantha’s gettin’ married with Jerry.”

“Oh, alright, congrats to them then, eh…?”

“Yup.” Mark nodded. “But what're you doin’ here this early?”

“I just wanted a beer or somethin’.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure.”

Both entered the bar and got served quickly. It was too early to be really busy, although a few patrons were enjoying their lunch there.

“So, uhm, Mark…?”

“Yeah?”

“D’you uh… Would you like to maybe spend some time in the desert?” Mundy asked with his eyes down on his beer. Mark laughed.

“Again with the desert stuff? You like it more than lizards do!”

Mundy smiled.

“Yeah but, I mean, it’s nice out there. Nice and calm. We could go for a bit of hunting, eat what we catch.”

“Pfff, and then what? Grill under the sun for some wild thing to make us their dinner? Nah, Mundy… You go and get roasted if you want, I like it better in the shade.”

Mundy frowned slightly.

“Right, then uh… What about somethin' else?”

“Like what? You’re not tryin’ to take me out on a date, are ya?”

“N-No, nah, I'm not the date kind of guy…” Mundy shook his head. “I just… Gets quite lonely out there, just lookin' for some company, and uh… You’re a hunter too so I thought that uh…”

“Well, it’s my father who’s big on the whole hunting thing. I follow him sometimes when I’m bored but I’m not huge on it.” Mark took a gulp of his fresh beer and Mundy’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“So you don’t wanna hang out with me sometime?”

“I think we’re good the way we are.” Mark answered. “Why change it?”

Mundy sighed. He looked at his beer and he didn’t want any of it anymore.

“Right.” The Aussie took off and left the bar, his pint still almost completely full.

“Mundy?”

He turned back to Mark with a hand on the pub’s front door still.

“What?”

“You angry at me?”

“No.”

“What? What’s this mean then? You just leave and you haven’t finished your beer?”

Mundy sighed and looked left and right. The last thing he wanted was his private life and his interest in men exposed to people who knew Phil very well. He entered back and went to Mark.

“Listen, if you're just with me for the nights, I’m not in anymore.”

The bluntness with which he spoke shocked Mundy himself.

“I thought you liked it better that way?”

“No-Yeah, I don’t know and it doesn’t matter.” He spoke between gritted teeth.

“So much for tryin’ to make me believe you're not mad…” Mark said with a scoff. “If you don’t know what you want, I can’t answer you, Mundy.”

“Alright, then. Here’s what I’d like to know, Mark.” Mundy removed his hat and slammed it on the counter. “Are you just with me for the nights?”

“I mean, that’s what we’ve been doin’ and I-”

“Answer me.” Mundy’s fierce glare made Mark gulp down audibly before he frowned.

“Yeah, guess I am.” The American finally admitted.

“D’you wanna go on like this or d'you wanna…?”

“Do I wanna what?” Mark frowned, now he was as mad as Mundy.

“I don't know!” The Aussie answered. “Maybe we could do stuff together instead of just using each other like that?”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Mark asked.

“Nothin’!” Mundy got his face closer to the American’s. “I just don’t like bein’ used, is all.”

“For someone who doesn’t like it and who’s a grown up man, you never said no, you never even raised the concern and you were the one fuckin’ me.” Mark spoke between gritted teeth for his shouts to be muffled into hard whispers. “You were the one to open your van, you were the one to get me out of my clothes, and you were the one to put it in me! Now if you didn’t want any of that, you never even gave me a clue about it! How could I have known?!”

Mundy sighed.

“Look, I don’t know, I just… I can't go on like this.” Mundy answered and spun on his heels to leave again.

“Alright then, go back to spendin’ your days alone in the desert, see if that does you any good!”

Mundy stopped sharp.

“What did you just say about me?” He said, slowly, and growling menacingly.

“I said: go back to the desert you like so much, I bet you’ll feel better there.” Mark repeated.

“Pray that I never find you again, Mark.” Mundy pulled the hat down on his eyes and left.

“Or what, huh? What're you gonna do, huh? Hunt me down like I’m a deer?!” This time, Mark had raised his voice, but as he did, Mundy left and was already outside.

The Aussie slipped in his van and drove back home. No. He needed the desert. He shifted gears to reverse.

“Mundy! Mundy, wait!”

The Aussie almost didn’t hear the voice calling for him. Larry came running to the van and banged the door on Mundy’s side.

“Mundy, hold on!”

The Aussie lowered the window, his face as dark as his boiling rage made it. The shy Mundy within him wanted to blush. After all, Larry was Mark’s father.

“Your mum’s called here, they’re asking you to go back home.”

Mundy’s eyebrows jumped and his face brightened, as if the storm raging within him a second ago had been pushed by the sun.

“Oh, uh, ok, thanks, Larry.”

“Pleasure, son, see ya!”

Mundy nodded and drove off. It took him the usual fifteen-ish minutes to reach back home.

“Mum? You wanted to see me?” Mundy said as he entered. “Oh? What’s all that?” As he had pushed the door and entered, Mundy’s feet bumped on wicker bags. That one had towels at the top, oh, there was a cool box there.

“Yeah, Micky, come in and go help your Uncle, will ya?”

“Sure… What’s with all the bags?” The Aussie entered the kitchen to find his mother making sandwiches.

“We had a chat with your Uncle today. They say the weather’s gonna be real hot and sunny for the next week at least so we decided to go to the beach for a few days.”

“Oh…” Mundy’s eyebrows jumped out of surprise. “Alright, sure. You said Uncle Phil needed my help?”

“Yeah, he’s packing his stuff. I already dealt with your things and I assume you have some swimming shorts in your van, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Then it’s all good. I’ll drive his car and you get your van with Marty next to you, yeah?”

“Works for me.” MUndy nodded with a smile.

“Perfect, now go before he goes mad. I’ve been hearing him grumble to himself…!”

“Sure, thanks, Mum.” Mundy came to leave a kiss on his Mum’s cheek.

“No worries, baby.”

About an hour later, everything had been loaded into the van and the car, and Marty happily joined Mundy in his van, on the passenger’s seat.

“How long is it till we get there?” Mundy asked.

“We’ll have to drive through the state and then through more or less the entirety of Texas to get to the sea.” Philip answered. “But if you ask me, better Texas than California!”

“Alright, you know your business, UNcle Phil.”

“It’s a twelve hour drive but of course, we’ll make a lot of stops and we’ll sleep on the way there. I know a few good places along the way. Used to make the trip with some colleagues at work once a year at least in summer.”

“Wow, twelve hours… I don’t think I’ve ever driven for that long.” Mundy answered.

“It’s fine, son, we won’t do them all in one bite, eh?”

“I know, I know.. Still…! Right, let’s get started then.”

“You’ll just have to follow your mum, I’ll be with her to guide her.”

“Ok, thanks Uncle Phil.”

“Thank you, son.”

Mundy climbed in the van, on the driver’s seat. As he did so, Marty who was sitting on the passenger’s seat started wagging his tail.

“Hey, Marty, ready for the journey?”

The dog leaned into Mundy’s hand to enjoy some good head scratching.

“Right, gimme a paw then, eh?”

The dog obeyed.

“That’s a good boy right there, good puppy. Right, Mum’s starin’, you sit and be a good boy while I drive, yeah?”

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy

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aph-honk-kong · 3 years

Text

Soaring Gold

After one successful marriage comes a very unsuccessful engagement. [A continuation of this.] [Very late for day six of @aphasiaweek with the prompt of “culture”.]

Peninsula Hotel, Hong Kong

“Wah diuuuu, you tried to ask out a Diocesan alumni? I bet she turned you down before you could say ‘five double stars’.”

“I finally got that apartment in Qatar! It cost an arm and a leg, but it was worth it. Do you think I should go for a place in California, next?”

“Hold on, which province did you say your sister moved to?”

A million conversations seem to be happening at the same time, a cacophony of voices filling Harald’s head as he tries to find his table. The dining room is massive, at least three times as big as the entirety of the Dragon Room back in London, and he has no idea where he’s supposed to be sitting.

“Babe!”

Leon grabs him from behind and presses a not-so-sneaky kiss to the tip of his ear. He can feel his ears getting warm. “I was wondering where the fuck you’d gone off to. Come on, our table’s right next to the happy couple’s.”

He’s lead to a table near the centre of the room, covered in a pure-white tablecloth and set with elegant porcelain plates. Ling is already sitting there, deep in conversation with the blonde next to her. Also at the table are Lauren, Berwald and his husband.

“Why the fuck are you grading papers?” Leon exclaims incredulously.

“Because I care more about my students than this massive dinner that’s probably going to last three hours, that’s why,” Lauren shoots back. “Heaven forbid some of us actually have to work for a living.”

He presses a hand to his chest in mock offence. “Oh wow, so hurtful. I feel deeply wounded.”

Rolling his eyes, Harald sits down. Next to him is Berwald’s husband, who smiles at him. “Well, hello again!”

“Hi.”

“I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet.” He extends his hand. “My name is Timo Väinämöinen. This is my husband Berwald.”

Berwald shakes his hand next, saying quietly, “I believe I know your brother?”

“My brother-in-law, actually,” Harald corrects. “Henrik says you’re the reason he and Stell got to come here.”

“Speaking of Henrik,” Ling cuts in, “is nobody going to talk about how he looked in that suit of his? I may be a lesbian, but hot damn.”

The woman next to her scrunches her face up slightly in dissatisfaction.

“Don’t be jealous, Nat.” She giggles and kisses her temple. “The man’s a pancake, unlike you.”

“A pancake?” Nat rolls her eyes. “He’s a crepe.”

Harald chokes on his water.

...

A few tables away, many-named Arthur is sitting with Francis, Roderich, Erzsébet, Jo and Niklas, nibbling daintily on the pig’s-ears biscuits served before the banquet is due to start. He occasionally throws a glance towards the married couple’s table, where Vicente and Madeline are practically sitting on each other’s lap. “Goodness gracious, how much do you think they spent on this wedding?”

“Including the chapel, the after-ceremony lunch, the Rolls-Royce that drove them here, this dining room, the banquet, the complimentary party favours, the lucky draw involving twenty-four-karat gold jewellery and however much it took to get Mr. Edelstein to perform, I assume the entire thing cost at least two million Hong Kong dollars,” Niklas pipes up. He snatches the last biscuit before Arthur can and crunches it loudly. “Give or take a million or so.”

The adults all stare at him in shock. Roderich leans over to whisper to Arthur, “see, this hip new Scandinavian education system that treats kids like human beings lets them pull things like this. But again, he’s not even wrong...”

Francis smiles and pats Niklas on the head. “You were very close. The wedding actually cost five million. Five million Euros, that is.”

His eyes widen. “Euros!?”

“Oui, Euros. I am pretty sure that’s more than the GDP of some countries.”

Jo looks around them, big eyes taking in every bit of the room’s extravagance. “If I ever get married, I’m going to do it in a park or something. The guests can wear whatever they want and the only food we serve will be the wedding cake.”

“Nonsense, I’ll organise your wedding in St. Stephen’s Cathedral.”

They blow a raspberry at their father.

Erzsébet points at the table next to the couple’s. “Say, isn’t that Vicente’s brother?”

“That’s Leon, all right.” Francis takes a sip of white wine, swirling it around the glass. “He even brought along a common boy. Poor Yao, can you imagine what he’s thinking?”

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” Roderich tuts. “At least Leon’s not trying to marry him. The continent would go up in flames.”

Arthur clicks his tongue disapprovingly. He’s looking at another table, where the more famous guests are sitting. “I know his brother, who attended my luncheons while on tour in England. The two of them are fine fellows, I must admit, but unfit to marry into the Wang family.”

“That guy dresses funny,” Jo says. “At least, he doesn’t dress like the rest of us. Nik thought he was the usher when we got to the chapel.”

“Sounds about right!” Francis laughs. “Nobody would expect somebody of his upbringing to know how to dress.”

A group of waiters enter the room, holding a number of steaming dishes. Roderich sits up straighter and elbows his child sharply. “Put that tablet of yours away, now. The banquet is starting.”

...

“This is incredible,” Harald says for what feels like the millionth time. Course after course has been served, each plate presenting a clever fusion dish he never would have thought of. Nothing at the Dragon Room could ever compare.

“Vic hired two of Asia’s best chefs to make tonight’s banquet, plus their wedding cake.” Leon nibbles at a forkful of buttery Arborio rice before setting it down on his almost-finished plate of white-truffle garlic butter and Hangzhou shrimp risotto. “The desserts are going to blow you away.”

He nods gratefully at the waiter who takes his dish away. “I want to meet the chefs behind this one day.” The next dish is placed down, and Harald stares down at it. On the plate is a mini sculpture made of sorbet, shaped like a rosebush with tiny candy flowers and caramel branches. “You’d have to be some kind of genius to think of this.”

“I think you’re plenty genius yourself,” Leon quips. He swallows his first bite of sorbet before kissing him briefly. His lips taste of mint.

Soon, dessert is over and a pair of waiters wheel out the massive wedding cake. The icing around it is pure-white, topped with narrow grey-pink filigree patterns. At the very top of the cake is a sugar butterfly, holding two thin sheets of rice paper covered in thin writing, inked with chocolate sauce. Harald peers closer and realises it’s Vicente and Madeline’s wedding vows.

“Amazing, huh?”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

Leon stands up the moment they receive their slice, holding his plate and his dessert fork. “Grab your plate, too.”

“Won’t people notice?” Harald protests.

“They would, on most cases.” He winks at his brother, who smiles back while balancing the caramel butterfly on a plate. Vicente stands up, hand in hand with Madeline, and lift the plate up. A crowd of photographers surge forward, cameras at the ready, to capture the moment. Leon grabs his hand and tugs. “But not today.”

Holding on to his plate, Harald follows him out of the dining room, up grand staircases and past jewellery stores until they reach the topmost layer of the hotel. Leon opens the door, revealing a stunning rooftop garden.

Nobody is there, and the only sound is that of leaves being rustled. He leads him to sit down on a cushioned loveseat that overlooks the streets and Victoria Harbour. On the other side of the Harbour, Central glows radiantly.

“Isn’t this a better view than that stuffy dining room?” Leon eats his first forkful of cake.

Harald cuts into his slice and pops it into his mouth. It turns out to be a rich red velvet cake, dotted through with pieces of vanilla fudge and lemon crumble. He smiles. “This is good.”

“We’ve been going to parties all weekend, so it’s nice that we get some time alone.” He reaches across the loveseat to hold his hand. “I’m almost dreading going back to London. What would I do without all my crazy friends?”

He lets out a short puff of laughter. “‘Crazy’ is an understatement. No sane person would spend so much money on a wedding!”

“You said once that you’d prefer a simple wedding if you ever got married,” Leon reminisces,” and I gotta say the same. I’d go nuts organising stuff like this!”

Slice of cake finished, Harald shifts closer to snuggle up to Leon, shrugging his suit jacket off. “I love you,” he mumbles.

“Love you too.” He drops an absent kiss on the top of his head. “I actually have something to tell you.”

“Hmm?”

Leon pulls a small box out of his pocket and shows it to him. Harald’s breath hitches.

“Normally guys would get down on a knee to do this, but I don’t want to stop cuddling you so here we are.” He drops his gaze for a moment before returning it, strong and sure. “And, uh, I just love you so much and I’d like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” He flicks the box open, revealing a simple silver ring. “So what I want to know is... is if you want to marry me.”

Harald’s cheeks prickle with heat. His heart is thudding wildly in his chest. “I - “ he sputters. “Of cour - “

“STOP!”

The door leading back to the hotel swings open. Standing in the doorway is Yao, arms crossed and glaring daggers at them. Leon glares back. “What are you doing here?”

Yao marches towards the loveseat. “I know what you’re doing,” he says. “Ka Long, I know you’re planning to marry Harald. And I’m here to say that you can’t. I forbid it!”

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Thirteen - Love Me (If That’s What You Wanna Do)

Just like the mornings prior, the light streaming in through the large windows in Matty’s bright house woke her up. However, unlike the mornings prior, the tangle of arms and legs, the arm around her stomach, the soft snoring in her ear and the curly hair tickling her cheek were a welcome new addition. Her eyes took a brief moment to adjust to the room around her. It was nice not being jetlagged, or hungover, it meant that she had enough braincells functioning to accurately recall the events of last night. She shuffled slightly, moving to grab her phone from the bedside table to check the time, only to feel Matty’s arm tighten around her and pull her back into the middle of the bed.

“Stay in bed.” He mumbled; the tone of his voice thick with sleep.

“I thought you had stuff that you’re meant to do today?” She questioned, letting him keep her there anyway.

“Don’t care. Want to stay here with you.” He answered. She already felt that heart-warming feeling spreading through her chest after remembering how last night had gone, and he was very easily amplifying it tenfold with such a simple comment.

“When did you get so sappy?” She muttered as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the blush covering her cheeks.

“I will be as sappy as I damn well want.” He laughed as he squeezed his arms around her, trailing kisses from her cheek to her lips. Fucking hell. How did she ever think that she stood a chance to not fall prey to his charm?

Which pulled her mind back to how they’d left things last night. “So…” She cleared her throat anxiously. “Uh, when did you wanna talk?” It seemed best in her mind to just get it over with.

“Whenever you’re ready to.” He shrugged.

She paused for a few seconds. “Now?” She suggested.

He let out a deep sigh, ending it in a yawn as he rolled over, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s head downstairs, then.” He nodded. “We can chat over breakfast.”

They made their way downstairs, Y/N/N taking a seat at the small outdoor table as she watched him potter about the kitchen. He hummed quietly to himself as he searched the cupboards for something basic for the two of them to eat. The contented atmosphere around him was plain to see. It was nice seeing him at ease when he was frequently so tightly wound or on edge about something.

He sat down at the table, setting a mug down in front of her as he cradled his own tea in his hands. As he stared down into his cup, he tried to carefully picked his words. Where to begin? “I guess I should start with: I’m sorry about the bet. It er, got a bit out of hand, I suppose.”

“No kidding?” She replied sarcastically as she took a sip of her drink. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that before pulling himself back on track.

“It started as just messin’ about. I liked your company and you gave me a run for my money. I didn’t know what I wanted out of what we had because I wasn’t sure how I felt. I thought…” He swallowed hard, hating that he had to admit the next part. “I thought that I just liked having you around because you helped me deal with my thoughts when they were… getting difficult. I told you that things run smoother for me with company, but I truly struggle without my friends. I wouldn’t have been able to get clean - stay clean, if it weren’t for them. I rely on them massively. When you came along, it was easy for me to shift some of that emotional reliance onto you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She frowned. Had she known that was the case, she would’ve been able to offer some assistance through his rough patches rather than watching him suffer in silence.

“Because I thought if I told you that I felt dependent on you to stay in a good headspace, you wouldn’t wanna be around me anymore. It’s hardly charming to hear that I don’t function properly alone.” He answered truthfully. “In my best efforts to avoid confronting that, I did everything I could to keep you around without being open about why. And the bet seemed like a good way to do that. If I kept dragging it out, it gave me an excuse to stay in your life.” He elaborated.

“Matty, you didn’t need an excuse-”

“Yeah, I know that now, Y/N/N.” He grinned. “But hindsight is twenty-twenty. As it so turned out, anyway, that wasn’t why I was so hell bent on keeping you around.” He pointed out as he took a swig of his tea.

“So…” He stared down at the hole in his jeans, picking at it absent-mindedly. “I ignored my motivations behind what we had for a long time, and gradually they changed without me noticing. It wasn’t until George talked some sense into me after tour ended that I realised why I’d been doin’ it.” She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Because I was into you, too.” He clarified with a roll of his eyes.

“You see? See how it fucking feels to have someone make you say it?” She laughed as she shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I said I was sorry, all right?” He chuckled. “I only realised it while you were away working at that show.”

“Is that what that voicemail was about?” She asked in surprise as the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“Uh, kinda. More so what the call the next day was about. And why I asked you to come out here. Once I was aware of it, I finally had to do what you’d been bugging me about since we’ve met and actually work out what I wanted.” He said with a short laugh. “I wanted to tell you, I knew that much. But the rest I needed a bit of help with.”

“And that brings us to the difficult bit that you didn’t want to confront: what happens after all this is said and done.” He added as he stood up and walked over to his coffee table. He opened the drawer on the side of it, pulling out a stack of papers. Glancing at the cover quickly to double check that he’d definitely grabbed the right thing, he made his way back to the outdoor table. “Because I know that us being into each other doesn’t mean much if I end up on tour for the majority of the year.” He flipped through the pages anxiously, choosing his words wisely before he spoke. “I want you to come and be the director of our merch.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. What? “It’s, erm, it’s a real job. Not something daft I made up like the Rome merch gig. You’d be in charge of our whole merchandising operation: organising stock levels, contracting out the merch jobs to the venues as we tour, making sure that they set it up correctly and that sales are lining up. Sam and I would still be designing our stuff, but you’d do pretty much all the rest. I know you don’t like sitting around doin’ nothing, so it’s proper work. You’d pretty much have to live on the road with us, have downtime when we record or have downtime ourselves. But, um, you don’t have to decide now.” He handed her the thick wad of paper. “This is the contract. Read it over, make sure you know what the job is. And don’t say yes because of me. The offer isn’t anything to do with me, it’s The 1975 exclusive. It was George’s idea actually, it didn’t even come from me.” He laughed lightly, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. Ah, that explained their secret conversation yesterday. “But I don’t want you to say yes because you think I want you to. Which is not to say that I don’t want you to, it’s just…” He let out a deep sigh as he tried to get his thoughts back on track. “Whether you say yes to the job or not, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change any of my opinions. And if you say yes, anything that happens between us, good or bad or nothing, it doesn’t affect the job, yeah?” He had too many things on the list in his head to try and convey that he was starting to worry that his point wasn’t coming across coherently.

She stared down at the papers in her hands as she mulled over the offer. “This is incredibly generous, but I don’t want to be taking someone else’s job away from them.” She said as she went to pass them back. He just pushed it back into her grip.

“You’re not.” He assured. “Previously this is something that Jamie or I did. It’s about time we delegated, so if you don’t take the job it will be offered to someone else.” As he spoke, the sound of his ringtone started filling the air around them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Realistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Ah, shit… That’s Hann.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. There was still so much more that he wanted to say.

“Are you running late?” She asked.

He nodded. “I gotta go meet the guys at the studio. I’ll be back in a bit. Read the contract, see what you think. Jamie said you can have a week to think about it before he looks for another person to fill the position.” He explained as he made his way inside, throwing a jacket over his shoulders. “There’s a spare key on top of the fridge if you need to duck out.” He shouted as he headed towards the front door. A quick goodbye was thrown over his shoulder, before the heavy door was pulled shut, and she was left by herself to digest all of this information.

She migrated back inside to sit on the couch as she flipped through the contract. He was right about it being a proper job offer. Everything was listed in these sheets of paper, from the amount of hours she should be expecting to work down to how she would have to filter any posts online about the band. The pay was… more than adequate. There were even clauses in there about the contract not locking her into any long-term agreements, she was free to leave when she wanted. It was a tempting proposition. She loved doing merch work, and she’d been doing it on and off for over a decade now. It made sense to take a leap into something more permanent than just taking jobs as they were offered to her during peak touring season. Controlling a whole merch operation for an entire band would be an interesting challenge to tackle, a rewarding one she suspected. But this was much bigger than just a job. It would mean uprooting her life at home, committing to a life on the road. And as much as he said that it didn’t, it did mean committing to Matty to a degree. Whether that was in the sense of a relationship or not, it meant that he was going to become a permanent fixture in her life. Was she certain she wanted that? She’d had less than twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that her feelings were actually reciprocated. And did he actually want that? It was a while of her looking at the pages before Allen came to find her; the big dog padding into the living room and watching her with curiosity. She read and re-read certain clauses as he jumped up on the couch and rested his head in her lap, trying to find something that would either seal the deal or break it. But in the end, it was her decision to make. She had to weigh up the pros and cons and decide what was going to give the best outcome.

* * *

Matty made it to the studio a bit breathless, having half jogged there in an effort to not be too late. They were meeting with someone to sort out the pressing of the album on vinyl, and the meeting had started fifteen minutes ago. He exchanged a few quick greetings with the people mingling around the front of the building before making his way down to the back room where he knew the rest of his band would be waiting for him.

“So sorry!” He blurted out as he stepped into the room. “Time got away from me this morning.”

“Not like you to be late.” George stated, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Matty could hear the teasing tone underlying his voice.

“Yes, well…” He tried to think of a witty comeback as he shrugged his jacket off. But he found himself coming up empty.

“Are they the same clothes that you were wearing yesterday?” Ross questioned, eager to jump onto this bandwagon.

“Did you sleep in those?” Adam chimed in.

Matty sat there in silence, running a few responses through his head. None of them were going to get him out of this. “So, we need to get Notes out as soon as possible,” He started, opting to change the topic instead. George sniggered a laugh under his breath.

The meeting went well. They organised that the vinyl could be out in a few months once they were ready to go ahead with the final master of the album. A few last administration bits and pieces were confirmed. They lined up their next few social media posts and when they would be posted. Things were really starting to come together. Once it was just the band left in the room, Matty finally felt the stress release from his shoulders. He knew he was about to receive a hard time from his mates, but at least now he wasn’t gonna have to let strangers in on his personal life.

“Why were you actually running late?” George asked eventually. “Did you finally talk to her?”

The smile he was trying to conceal gave him away before he could even start talking, earning a chorus of approving noises from his friends. He waited until they’d calmed down for a second before he spoke. “Yeah, we’re on the same page now.” Matty nodded. “And I was going over the contract when you rang.” He added, gesturing towards Adam.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, man.” He apologised.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I left it with her so she had a chance to read it.”

“And?” George urged.

“And what?” The lead singer frowned in confusion.

“Are you guys together now or what?” He clarified.

“Oh, erm, well…” Matty started hesitantly. He hadn’t had the chance to get to that bit this morning.

George let out a loud groan in annoyance. “You still didn’t ask?”

“I didn’t want her to feel weird about it! Throwing the job offer and that at her in one morning seemed like too much. I just told her that it didn’t matter if we were or weren’t, the position was separate to all that.” He explained. Adam nodded in agreement. “I was gonna get to that part once she knew if she wanted to join the team or not.”

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer then.” Ross said with a nod towards the door. “Go see what she has to say.”

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard the front door lock click open. Allen instantly jumped off the couch next to her to bound towards the sound of the noise, and she heard Matty greeting his dog eagerly before seeing him step into the living area.

“Sorry, I tried to get out as quickly as I could.” He said, kicking his shoes off.

“How was the meeting?” She asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to her.

“Good, yeah.” He said with a nod. “We sorted out a few last things with Notes so it should be right to go soon.” He eyed the papers sitting on the table. “So, uh… how did you get on with the contract?” He asked, clearly anxious about her answer.

“It’s very… thorough.” She chuckled.

“George wrote it up with Jamie to make sure that all the legalities were covered and you had an out if ever you wanted one. We of all people know how rough this sort of lifestyle can be.” He should probably stop talking about the downsides of the job if he ever hoped for her to want to accept it.

“I went over it a couple of times, the job itself seems great. The only things that worried me were having to relocate my existing life at home to commit to living on the road with you lot. I don’t know if I could cram my life into a suitcase. And I’ve never handled something as major as this. There’s a lot to learn, with pretty high stakes involved and I’m sure I’ll be being thrown straight into the deep end.” She sighed, feeling the sense of dread at fucking it all up sitting at the back of her mind.

“However, despite of all of that, I’d like to take the job.” She grinned. He couldn’t help but match her smile as a wave of relief washed over him. When she’d started talking about the negatives, he was sure that it was going to lead to her turning the offer down.

“Welcome to the team.” He said, holding his hand out to her for a handshake. She laughed lightly before shaking it. “We’ll have to head down tomorrow to get all this finalised and tell the guys.” The excitement shone in his eyes.

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

“That just leaves one last question, then.” He continued, wanting to keep the ball rolling.

“Hm?”

“What did you want to do about us?” He asked as he tried to maintain his usual confident bravado, at least until this conversation was over.

“Ah, yeah… about that…” She sighed. His hours out of the house had also given her a lot of time to consider what she wanted out of all this - out of him. “Matty, you are quite possibly the most egotistical and arrogant person that I’ve ever met. You are relentless when you’re right, and just as difficult when you’re wrong.” These were things that he was already well aware of, but he couldn’t help the pang of hurt in his chest at having to hear them again. “And yet, for whatever reason, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.” She huffed. What? “Which might be because despite the incredibly annoying traits that you possess, you also possess many redeeming ones. You’re passionate and kind and endlessly talented.” He could feel his cheeks warming slightly at her words. “You go to the ends of the earth for the people that you care for. You’re smart and funny and fuck. I don’t think I could continue ignoring my feelings for you, even if I did want to.” She admitted as she ran a hand down her face in frustration. “Even at my most blindly stubborn, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I committed to being around you more than I already am. Especially after everything that’s happened since I got here.”

He considered what she was saying carefully. “What did you want our next step to be, love?” He asked, wanting to leave the ball in her court and not push her into anything.

“I’d be keen to give a serious relationship a try if you were.” She answered bluntly. He let out a triumphant laugh. “Don’t get too cocky now that you managed to win me over.” She cautioned him, but her smile betrayed the warning in her words.

“Too late. That ship has long since sailed.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

She hugged him back just as tight, glad to finally have it all out in the open. It was probably going to be a bumpy road ahead, with a million setbacks and challenges. But she was pretty excited to be facing those things with Matty by her side.

“To think, you got yourself into all this mess with a troubled musician just because you didn’t know how to reprint a t-shirt.” He scoffed as he pulled back. She could hear the joking tone in his voice, but the incessant need to correct him still bubbled to the surface.

“That is not at all what happened.” She argued.

“I’m fairly sure it is.” He nodded. “Pretty sure that I walked in there, you needed me for help with the shirts and then you begged me to hang out with you more.” He lied.

“I’m certain that you are the one who bothered me to hang out with you more.” She shot back. The smirk on his face made it pretty clear that she’d just taken the bait. Again. “Stop being such a twat.” She laughed.

“You make it way too easy.” He replied with a chuckle before leaning down to kiss her.

Last Chapter

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#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein

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irrlicht-writes · 4 years

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underneath

A/N: Welcome to my BrOTP, HUsk & Vaggie. Sadly I didn’t do them the justice they deserve but I just wanted to write something, and it’s been too long since I wrote something for my AU. It’s not long & that good but hey (: I did a try.

Summary: Husk hasn’t been in school for a few days. Vaggie wasn’t expecting him to be sitting outside of the building, smoking and drinking on the premise. Something was wrong with him and she didn’t know what it was. She would learn but something was still wrong. High School AU, FTM Alastor (doesn’t come up here), Human

________________________________________

She found him sitting outside the school. Truth be told, she hadn’t been expecting to see him here at all – he had been missing for a few days. He had told Alastor he wouldn’t be around for a while, so she hadn’t been surprised but now he was sitting here. Al hadn’t said anything about Husk coming back, so what was he doing here?

Vaggie found herself to be standing just right here, staring at him. Husk was sitting on the ground and if she could make this out right, he was smoking something. It might be a cigarette, or a joint. From this distance, she couldn’t tell. He looked beat.

Should she go over?

In truth, she hadn’t really interacted much with Husk ever since he joined their little group. She didn’t dislike him, not completely anyway, but she didn’t really know how to approach him. Even though he was only about a year older than them, to her, he seemed to be an old and grumpy man already. She had no idea what Alastor saw in him but then again, Alastor was a bit insane himself.

“You just gonna stand there?”

She looked up from her thoughts. Apparently her feet made the decision for her because here she was, standing in front of the grumpy man.

“You’ve been missing for a few days,” she said instead of walking away. She grabbed the straps of her rucksack and looked Husk over. There was a bottle in his hand and it was indeed a cigarette he was smoking. She didn’t think he should be doing that on school grounds but then again, he didn’t seem like he cared about stuff like that.

“I’m amazed you noticed that.”

Husk looked up at her and she saw the bruises on his face. He had a blue eye that looked really bad and his lip was bust open. His gaze seemed to be a bit glassy, although she didn’t know if that was from the alcohol or not.

“Alastor missed you,” she said even though Alastor had made no indication that he did so. Maybe she felt bad for the guy? She didn’t like lying to anyone but maybe it would cheer Husk up. Why she cared about that, she didn’t know.

Husk chuckled. “He didn’t.”

Well, that went well.

“What happened?” she asked and Husk groaned as he pushed himself up against the wall. His posture was hunched and his clothes looked dirty. He was breathing heavily and Vaggie was uncomfortable looking at him.

“What happened?” she asked again and once more he ignored her. Instead, he stepped up next to her, put his hand on her shoulder and limped away. His hand was warm. She didn’t look after him.

Husk didn’t come to school the next day even though Vaggie expected him to do so. Alastor didn’t say anything either. She was conflicted if she should tell someone what she saw as she hadn’t even told Charlie. Charlie would just worry and insist that they go and help Husk out. Now, Vaggie wasn’t opposed to help people out and if it made Charlie happy, it’d be good enough for her. But with Husk she wasn’t sure he could be helped and she rather not have Charlie get disappointed with her inability to help a friend.

“Alastor,” she approached him during lunchtime, “do you miss Husk?”

He looked up at her, blinked and finished chewing. “Not really, no. Why? Do you miss him, Vaggie?”

“What? No. But he’s your boyfriend, don’t you miss him at least a little?”

He simply shook his head. “He’ll come back eventually.”

Vaggie stepped away, sitting down next to Charlie. How could Alastor not miss Husk? If Charlie were gone, she’d miss her dearly. But maybe she just didn’t understand a guy’s mentality.

Charlie had offered to take her home and most days, Vaggie accepted. But today she had wanted to walk and not ride with Charlie’s dad in their car.

With Husk gone, it fell to Vaggie to organise their electronic equipment. She had done it before Husk arrived but he was just a lot better at it. She didn’t like admitting it, but it was just the truth.

While walking him, she thought about what Alastor had said. And yesterday, Husk had even said that he knew Alastor wasn’t missing him. She didn’t even know if these two were really in love. At least in school it seemed like they were just friends, like they were with Angel maybe. Most people didn’t believe it when they were told that Husk and Alastor were a thing.

Somebody bumped into her shoulder. “Fuck,” she heard the person muttering and stumbling away. She knew that voice. “Husk?”

She looked at the man and indeed, it was Husk. He was stumbling hard and it seemed like he was barely standing upright. “Fuck,” he muttered again and tried to look at her. His gaze was unfocused and maybe she was mistaken but his face seemed to look worse than it did yesterday.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and she realised he didn’t recognise her at all.

“Husk. Husk, it’s me, Vaggie!”

He stared at her for a bit, blinking a bit. He didn’t seem to recognise her at all still but nodded anyway. “Sorry,” he said again and he tried regaining his balance to keep walking.

In this instance, she made a decision. Something was wrong and she couldn’t just keep walking.

“Husk, wait!” She grabbed his arm, stopping him. She could feel the heat radiating through his clothes and she thought that maybe he was running a fever. Husk stopped and turned to look at her. He cast his gaze down at her hand and then back up at her face. “Let go,” he requested and his voice was awfully differently than usual.

“Come home with me, please,” she said quietly and he just stared at her. She still didn’t think that he could truly see her. Vaggie held his gaze in trying to convince him. She didn’t know what she would be doing with him at her home but she just knew she couldn’t let him wander the streets like this.

His shoulder slumped and he just nodded. She let go of his arm and instead took hold of his hand so she could drag him after her. His hand felt clammy and she was absolutely sure he was sick.

It didn’t take long for them to reach her house and she knew her parents weren’t home yet. Good. At least she didn’t have to explain what a guy was doing in her bedroom.

After entering, she tried to drag him to her room immediately, but Husk wouldn’t budge. “Your house is nice,” and his voice was definitely starting to sound a bit sluggish. “Husk, come on,” she pressured him and he let himself be pulled.

She put him on her bed and took the time to really look him over. He was still wearing the same shirt as yesterday and it looked like it needed to be thrown away. His pants weren’t any better – they were full of dirt.

“Husk, can you look at me?”

He tried, she could tell. But he kept losing focus on her face and looked right next to her. “Stop moving,” he told her and she didn’t have the heart to tell him she was standing absolutely still.

“Are you hurt?”

He chuckled. He let his head hang and his breathing was haggard. “Husk, I’m going to remove your shirt, okay?”

He didn’t protest when she reached for the buttons on his shirt. Still, she made sure to move relatively slow so that he could tell her to stop anytime. He didn’t and she removed his shirt. “Husk,” she whispered upon seeing him. “What happened?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Gotta earn money somehow, yeah?”

His upper body was covered in a lot of bruises and scratches – and some hickeys, too. She knew that Alastor wouldn’t have put them there and she didn’t like that knowledge. Vaggie set her jaw and she got up.

“Wait here,” she ordered him and she quickly left the room. She wasn’t gone long and she returned with a first-aid kit. “I’m going to clean some of the scratches, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”

She rummaged through the kit and offered him a pill. “It’s for your fever. Take it now, okay?” Husk took the pill and just nodded. He swallowed it as Vaggie set to work.

To his credit, Husk didn’t flinch or protest once. She tried to not think too hard about where the scratches and the bite marks came from. She didn’t want to know but she also didn’t want to forget. It was important and eventually, they would need to talk about this. Not now, and not with Charlie or Alastor, but someday.

She wasn’t quite done when he took hold of her hand and pushed her away. “I have to go home,” he said softly and leaned forward to press a dry kiss against her forehead. “Sorry for making you worry about me. Forget about it, yeah?”

He stood up and simply walked out of her room, leaving her and his discarded shirt behind. Vaggie just sat there on the ground, looking at the spot Husk had just sat in.

Something was wrong. And she didn’t know what to do to make it better.

When Husk returned to school a week later, he didn’t really pay any attention to Vaggie. His black eye was almost entirely gone and he seemed to be back to form.

She wondered if he was hurt beneath his shirt.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #hazbin high school #irrlicht-writes #writing #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin vaggie #platonic relationships

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undergroundkid · 4 years

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Chapter 2: Adios to tomorrow

You worked here long enough, so you should be used to it by now – people being total asses.

Especially the rich, spoiled asses.

You were already worn by explaining the old lady how the hotel restaurant works (it could be easier if she would just listen to you instead of interrupting all the time) and it was only 8PM. By the looks of it, the night would be long.

- Family from the 215 is in! – Yoonho announced to you with surprising cheerfulness; somehow he didn’t even sweat moving all the suitcases to the second floor. As always, spotless face and full smile.

- Great – you answered, your voice in opposing manner to his:- The granny from the couch needs help to 220.

He giggled like schoolboy; he was like one for you, most of the time.

- Shh, Y/N, what if she will hear you?

- She didn’t hear me first three times when I told her that kitchen closes at 11PM, so I assume she won’t – you grumbled, giving him the room card.

- Don’t be a meanie, it doesn’t suit you – he smiled in your direction:- I’ll be back in a minute! We will make it, Y/N!

Sometimes you were really thankful for Yoonho – he was a sweet boy. His optimism was infecting for sure, which was helping your everyday routine. Cracking jokes all the time, being reliable, giving you compliments on random occasions.. sunshine in a cloudy life.

But you can’t deny, on days like this – with hall full of people giving you shit just because they can – you wanted to punch this smile off his face. Which you won’t, cause you know it’s taking your silly frustrations on him. You’re grateful he’s gone, though.

Loud laughter from the group next to the door caught your attention; wonderful. Not even a second for yourself, you’re doomed to listening about Bali’s marvelous apartments. That’s real shit, not the ones here, you know? Who the hell even rent those? Pathetic.

You tried to swallow your irritation, remembering how the lads desperately tried to book the apartments not even an hour ago. Dicks, you almost wrote in registration documents.

Still, when the door opened once again, you smiled sweetly.

- Good evening!

The man who entered was wearing all black; shiny coat, some t-shirt and leather pants. Black hair was a little disheveled, thanks to the weather outside. His strode was confident and his presence intimidating. He slung valise over his shoulder and leaned against reception’s counter, looking around.

- Good evening – you repeated with less politeness. You scolded yourself, but couldn’t make your tone any better:- How can I help you, sir?

He finally looked at you, silver earrings dangling around his neck stopping its movement.

- Good evening, lovely madam – you were strong enough to stop your eyes from rolling, but he recognized the annoyed shift of your feet and smirked a little.

Great. Another overconfident jerk.

- Do you want to book some room for tonight? – you clutched to your stoic, work expression.

He dropped his valise, keeping his eyes on you and you couldn’t deny; it gave you shivers, not quite sure why. Guest usually treated you poorly or ignored you. Such attention is something you’re not really used to.

Right. It must be it.

- Actually, I already have a reservation here.. just a moment – he searched in his coat, but didn’t find what he was looking for. Quiet groan fell from his lips and before you could ask, he shrugged the coat off and started digging in his back pockets.

On his arms were multiple, dark colored tattoos. Some traditional asian work and few random pieces. It suited him well, looking as a natural part of his body. He surely wasn’t a typical client of your hotel; but his confidence didn’t make anyone question him.

He handed you his ID and dark card; oh. You know this.

- Hyungwon supposed to book the whole floor for us.. – he started to explain, but upon seeing the look on your face, he chuckled:- Looks like you know all the jazz, Miss.

You took the documents hesitantly. Well, the management booked the reservation from mysterious Mr Chae because he paid already (and paid good price), but you were unsure about whole ordeal. Why nobody question these people seriously?

This time you had the document, at least.

- So, Mr Lee..

- Just Jooheon – he leaned in, again looking straight into your eyes:- Please, I hate receiving such cold attitude from pretty girls.

Your body was faster than your brain and you didn’t stop yourself from giving him an upset look quick enough. Surprisingly, he laughed – a very natural, full laugh, showing off his deep dimples.

You casted your eyes downward in sudden embarrassment, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks.

- Just a second sir and I will open your reservation. Please wait.

- Take all the time you need, Miss. I am in no hurry.

Night shifts are definitely calmer than the day ones, but everything has its disadvantages. During day, the hotel is full of staff. At night? You’re almost alone. Yoonho stays late when there’s such a need only – big reservations or problematic guests. Sometimes he does it to provide you company because he’s such a cutie, but when management found out he’s not really working, his long hours were cut immediately.

Gotta think positive; you’re not stuck to the chair all night. When parents from 305 need new bedding, thanks to their wonderful kids, you’re the one who comes at their door with fresh bedclothes. A little walk will stretch your legs at least.

Looks like it won’t be the last route tonight. You’re surprised to find a a tray with lid left on your desk when you arrive back on the reception.

- Ah, the kitchen left it here – the security man answered your silent question. He was sitting at the lobby with today’s newspapers, taking care of possible guests coming while you were away.

You looked at the clock; right, it was slightly after 11PM.

You sighed and informed your coworker you will be back in a few minutes. With heavy tray in the hands and steps in the direction of the elevator, you couldn’t help the irritation that started to bubble inside you slowly. Seriously, the kitchen could fulfill the last request for tonight, it wasn’t that late – and now you’re stuck with it. The old lady from 220, no doubts.

You briefly took a glance at the small yellow note glued to the lid – Dinner to 401, thanks Y/N! XXX, your cooking mates

You had to read it one more time, neck stiffing suddenly; the first apartment’s guest, then. You clicked the 4th floor button and brushed fingers through your hair, making it look somehow more presentable. You were starting to get nervous, a little more with every floor, so when you get to fourth your heart was already beating loudly in your ears.

Calm down, it’s nothing new. Like the bedsheets with 305. You’ve done such stuff multiple times.

It didn’t help sadly, you noticed how sweaty your hands became while knocking at the door. The silence was almost overwhelming, starting to make you think if you should knock again or use it as an excuse and bolt the heck away; yes. Bolting away it is. You started to take a step back, when the door opened.

You were greeted with the surprised face of the man from earlier tonight.

- Huh? – with eyebrows high, making his eyes bigger than normal:- You’re working as the waitress too, Miss?

Well, almost. I am doing everything here.

- Good evening – you bowed your head and offered the tray:- Your order, Mr Lee. The kitchen closed already and asked me for help.

- And you helped, of course. Still calling me by surname, too – he shook his head. You weren’t sure if it was because of the first or second part of his answer.

You smiled politely; stay professional. That’s your way. You are in control of the situation.

- Please, come in –he opened the door wider, inviting you with his hand.

Or not, you thought.

You stepped inside the glamorous apartment. The lights were dim. Everything here were made of money and whispered thousands in all senses. Golden canopy, snow white sheets, lush carpet.. weak flowery scent, mixed with strong chemical aroma. That’s something new, what is this?

- You can put it there, the desk is stuffed as you can see..

That was true; although the apartament’s desk was big, provided for hard working clients, whole surface was full. You stole a glance at various items; random machines, some small colorful bottles, medical packages.

- I’m trying to organise a little – Jooheon explained, noticing your look and grabbed one of the bottles:- Working on the road means you carry shit with you, but I definitely have too much.

You murmured shy „sorry”, thinking you’re way too nosy, but he shrugged.

- No worries, Miss – his eyebrows wiggled teasingly:- I can see your curiosity. It started when I got here, right?

- What? – you deadpanned. Is that some weird start of his flirtation again?

- I saw how you looked at me – his answer came immediately, as if it was obvious. He took few steps in your direction, which made you freeze in your spot, but he just took the fork and digged one of the dumplings on the plate you brought:- Like a kid seeing the lion in the zoo for the first time, wasn’t it?

This is going in the wrong direction, you decided, so you shook your head.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr Lee. I will excuse myself, hope you will..

- I also saw how you looked at boys in the lobby. Spoiled brats, I agree.

You shut your mouth quickly, feeling your thoughts spinning. What? Do I make my thoughts that clear with my face or something? Maybe I murmured some insults unwittingly?

He smiled a little at your expression, dropping the fork at the table.

- You don’t have to be so polite with me, Miss Y/N – came his sincere words:- Some people don’t deserve your respect. Especially rich bastards from the hall, who think they have it all just because they have enough cash to sleep here.

- Like you?

The question flew out of your mouth before you could think; you quickly covered your mouth, scolding yourself again. You lost control around this man and it will get you in trouble, no doubt. If he speak to your manager, you’re fired in the matter of seconds.

Surprisingly, Mr Lee laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

- Ahaha, you’re absolutely right! – he admitted:- Although, it wasn’t always like this. Makes a little difference.

He motioned to random stuff on the table.

- Thankfully, my art pays me well – his hands rummaged slightly through small machines, when it made sense to you.

- You are tattoo artist ..?

Brunet turned in your direction, just nodding. All chemicals hanging in the air were from disinfection tools, small machines actually tattoo guns. His confidence and visuals contrasting to hotel explained it perfectly. You got a feeling he was a kid raised in poor environment, but made to achieve greatness; you would like to think about yourself like that, too. Which is absolute nonsense, of course. You’re just a ordinary receptionist, who will be stuck here forever.

When you looked at him again, he smiled devilishly.

- Sit down, I will paint a little gift for you.

- I-I don’t..

- Come on, you brought the food even if you didn’t have to – it was a lie, but you didn’t have time to protest; he moved one of the chairs for you to sit on.

- You were nice, let me show you I can be too.

Jooheon started to dig in his belongings, clearly not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Hesitantly you sat on offered seat, not really understanding the situation, but not being brave enough to stop it. Even if you ran away, he still had the uppercard about your mean outburst earlier. Damn it, you seriously need to watch your mouth.

He sat opposite to you, startling you from your thoughts.

- Easy there – he chuckled, shaking some aerosol spray:- Give me your hand. Right one. And roll your sleeve a little.

You did as he asked, feeling his eyes on you all the time. You felt like a prey observed by a hawk. He took your hand in unexpected subtle manner though, switched your wrist veins upwards and sprayed the area. Strong alcoholic scent hit your nostrils immediately.

In silence, he prepared small can with black ink on a side, wore gloves and grabbed a tattoo machine; turning it on, the buzz sound echoing in luxurious apartment. It was way too harsh in such aureate space.

Wait, it meant –

- Hold on! – you took your hand back, careful to not touch the sanitized skin anyhow:- You’re gonna tattoo me? Like, for real?

You sounded stupid, that much was obvious by his face, but that were your first thoughts. Shit. Again. Talking before thinking.

- And what were you thinking?

Okay, now was a good time for honesty.

- I don’t know – came your answer, then you started to get up:- I am afraid I have to go, Mr Lee. Thank you for the offer.

- What is this? – he looked at you with furrowed brows:- You’re seriously gonna ditch me now?

- Well, it’s not like I asked you for it! – you snapped. Taking a deep breath, you tried to control your emotions; what is happening, for God’s sake? You’re usally composed, shitty guests not taking that much of a toll on you and you’re definitely more polite.

Karma comes back, you always told yourself. Treat other like you would like to be treated; hotel guests could be horrible, but they could be also pleasant. Their good nature were sometimes smashed by reality of business you will never understand. Actually, nobody knows what is in the head of other person. You know that, you lived by these values – it helped you come through everyday.

Why is this man turning you into such a mess?

- Huh, so that’s how it gonna be – he leaned back on his chair, with his equipment still in hand:- You’re gonna go back down and be a little, good girl, only dreaming to come out of her shell.

You shook your head, trying to calm the waves of coming anger. It’s ridiculous. You just came here to deliver the dinner, he’s the one with this bizzare idea of tattooing you in the middle of your shift. You don’t even know him. Is that machine safe?

- Okay – he shrugged, not getting any answer from you:- Don’t cry later about wasted chances, Miss. Looks like you don’t have balls after all.

Words still didn’t come out of your throat, disbelief almost choking you.

- Shame, really – tattooer sighed, then looked straight at you with a little smirk:- You could have it all, Miss.

Such simple words striked you straight to the pit of the stomach; he’s not talking only about this stupid tattoo. He’s talking about your whole life, Y/N.

I really could have it all.

You tasted the bitterness of regret on your tongue: the regret of breakup with your boyfriend, wasting your youth with working all the time, not having real friends, being stuck with your parents.. all these things danced in front of your eyes. Is this man pitying you? Or offering an exit of boring existence?

You wondered for a moment if there was some drugs in the air for making you feel like this. Looking at Jooheon, you decided it was his persona that must have stupefied you. His confidence, succesful lifestyle, evident good looks – maybe if things were differently, you also could achieve something.

You wanted it, the greed for a change excited you enough to send electricity through your whole body.

You sat again, offering hand to dangerous man ahead of you.

He didn’t say anything, but smiled in satisfaction. Taking a grip of your fingers, stronger than before, he started the machine again.

- So, what will you paint?

He hunched slightly, giving you a dark look. You curled your toes unconsciously, but somehow it looked like he knew. His dimples gave him a sweet vibe, in harsh opposition to his hungry eyes. For what? Scarring your skin as a first to ever do so?

Or just for your obvious innocence?

Heat started to make its way to your face by just thinking about it. Atmosphere changed to more intimate, which clearly made you flustered. Jooheon though took a comfort in it and winked at you:

- You will see, Miss.

thank you for reading

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#My writing #shangri-la fc #monsta x fanfic #monsta x reader #monsta x imagines #jooheon imagine #jooheon x reader

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mllemaenad · 5 years

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(Chantry Asker) Sorry, no I wasn't joking, it's hard to convey intent in an ask. I know the Chantry has done questionable things, and it's motives aren't always pure, but I think it is still fair to say that it does more to maintain stability and peace than any other organisation in Thedas, Secular or religious (except maybe the GW, during blights). The Chantry can help Zerlinda and the Crossroads Refugees. The Chantry tries (albeit with ulterior motives) to defuse the Orsino/Meredith situation.

Hi, Anonymous person.

And ... okay, your examples are still ... really strange to me. I mean, Zerlinda is a minor character from a fairly obscure side quest. While my general response to letting the Chantry into Orzammar is “Hahahahaha no; Orzammar is quite fucked up enough already without giving Orlais a foothold", I’m pretty sure Burkel is a decent enough guy. Again, I’ve never said every person affiliated with the Chantry is dedicated to doing evil 100% of the time. That’s ... not how this works. No one’s denying that Giselle did good work in Jader, for example.

And the “Orsino/Meredith situation” ... was the Chantry. As in, that is the entire plot of Dragon Age 2. Grand Cleric Elthina and Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard are the highest ranking Chantry officials in Kirkwall. They have seized control of the city at the bidding of the Orlesian empire and this is very, very bad. They’re not behind literally every awful thing that happens in the city, but I’d say a solid 80%: attacks on local Dalish clans, profiteering off Fereldan refugees, terrorist attacks on poor neighbourhoods, attacks on Qunari ambassadors, and – most significantly for the plot of the story – the extreme oppression and attempted mass murder of the city’s mage population.

The only outside intervention is a vague threat to march on the city. Otherwise, the Kirkwall Chantry just gets worse and worse until ultimately blowing up the grand cleric and beating the knight-commander with weaponry until she turns into a red lyrium statue is the only solution. Which. You know. That wasn’t anyone’s first choice of solutions. But no one in charge (i.e. the Chantry) would help even a little bit.

I’m ... confused that, at best, you’re offsetting centuries of genocide and religious persecution with a few genuine acts of charity and kindness and somehow coming to the conclusion that ‘it does more to maintain stability and peace than any other organisation in Thedas’.

I’ve gotta ask. Why? Why defend the Chantry? The fact that I get so many Asks like this is genuinely baffling to me. I know Tumblr has its dark corners. I know there are some horrible lurking things. But the broad ... well, vibe seems to be "Eat the rich!", "Fuck capitalism!”, “Colonialism and/or Imperialism sucks!” And yet, I get so much ...

“In defence of Meredth ...”

“In defence of Cullen ...”

“In defence of Elthina ...”

“In defence of the Chantry ...”

“In defence of Kordillus Drakon ...”

I mean – Drakon, of all people. I don’t get it. This is a gimme. It’s not subtle: it’s not just dog whistles or dodgy representation or distorted facts. It’s the literal religio-military arm of an actual empire. It’s even called what it is! ‘The Orlesian empire.’

They have swords! Lots of them! That they use on people! They have wiped out other cultures and stolen land – including variants of Andrastianism that disagreed with them. You can walk through the Dales and read the actual religious propaganda they used to justify genocide. They have literally rewritten history to get rid of the bits they don’t like. They have committed war crimes that left the Qunari appalled. I mean, they have ‘Exalted Marches’. Actual religious wars – what we would call crusades. They have those. Against rival religions. Because they believe those religions are wrong, and that this justifies killing the people and taking their land.

They steal children. This is a thing that they do every day: kidnap children from their parents, and the parents may never see them again or even know what became of them. I mean, I honestly thought permanently separating children from their parents was going to be a dealbreaker for everyone. But I guess not?

I’m sorry if I sound a little worked up, but my bafflement is genuine. I don’t get it. Why do people need the Chantry to be ‘good’? Why is an organisation that has all the money, all the power, all the influence, and has so often used all those things to hurt people, something that people want to defend? It’s fiction. It’s not even a real organisation. But a lot of what it does is real, or at least has a pretty damn strong real world analogue. It’s stuff that real empires – sometimes with the backing of the state religion – have done to indigenous people, to women, to LGBTQI+ people, to disabled and non-neurotypical people, to poor people to ... whomever they wanted, really. And they’ve often called themselves virtuous while doing it.

I certainly don’t think everyone affiliated with the Chantry is bad. I love Leliana. Leliana is awesome. And I don’t think doing a ‘pro-Chantry’ run through of a game makes someone bad. That would be absurd. Actually, I’d like to thank all the people who picked the pro-Templar options and put videos on YouTube so I don’t have to do that to get the quotes.

But I really don’t understand these defences of an actual imperial religion, in a fantasy world – surely it costs less than nothing to read one of the codex entries on genocide or Tranquillity and go “Huh. This pretend religious organisation is pretty fucked up. We should not be in favour of any real organisations that do stuff like that when we come across them”.

So: why does the Chantry need to be good?

#dragon age #chantry critical #Anonymous

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goonlalagoon · 5 years

Text

The Great Haus Bake-Off || Check, Please!

I have no memory of what caused me to start writing this, but been re-reading some Check Please fic and finally got motivated to go back and finish it...

(also on Ao3 here)

No-one was quite certain, later, who started it.

It had been a post-practice brunch, they all agreed, sometime in that period when everyone on the Internet - or at least, about thirty percent of the parts of the Internet that Bitty frequented and re-tweeted things from - was obsessed with Great British Bake Off, and someone had eventually said “It’s baking, it isn’t like it’s exciting”, and it seemed like almost everyone in the room made a sound of thoughtless agreement.

Then came the terrible ‘clang’ of an oven door being closed.

Instantly, the room fell silent. The look Eric Bittle turned on them all would freeze enough water for an ice rink, and for a long moment everyone at the Haus kitchen table was both trying to remember whether they had said the terrible thing, and wondering with deep seated horror whether if no-one owned up Bitty would actually withhold all baked goods.

Chowder actually gulped when he began to smirk.

“Oh, really? Y’all better be ready to put your money where your mouths are.”

It’s really only supposed to be a small thing. Bitty plans to just get the boys to try and make something - maybe a pie, or maybe he’d give them something fancier, patisserie of some kind - which they would all inevitably fail at but would probably make fools of themselves in some deeply entertaining fashion while baking. But Lardo listens to him patter on about it for fifteen minutes, swallows her pie, and grins.

“Say, Bits? You reckon we could turn this into a Samwell Men’s Hockey publicity thing?”

They even manage to get a sort-of sponsorship out of it by dint of Lardo sidling up to the manager of the cute little store Bitty goes to for baking apparatus - he’ll compromise on many things for the sake of budgeting, but when he needs another pie dish or his scales go on the blink, Eric Bittle is not afraid to invest - and cheerfully explaining the entire story. The manager is delighted and insists on being a judge in exchange for giving them a deal on some of the key equipment, because Bitty loves his teammates to pieces but wouldn’t dream of letting them near his mama’s set of cake tins for love nor money.

When the delivery arrives he discovers that the manger has even managed to get them cake stands patterned with skating boots and little snowflakes.

One of Lardo’s arty friends agrees to film it in exchange for permission to submit it as part of his film and media portfolio, and Bitty indulges himself in a full rerun of every episode of Bake Off aired so far to gather ideas.

Lardo joins him for most of it, already planning the spiel she’s going to stick up on the SMH website to cover the event and organising a few people for taste testing (with a guarantee of a Bittle produced rendition of the days challenge in case all other offerings are truly inedible as they both half suspect they will be)

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys begin to panic. Baking is not a skill that was widely associated with the SMH Haus before the arrival of Bitty, and their main interaction with baked goods is still firmly on the consumer end of things.

Ransom is seen carrying a stack of cookbooks up to his chin across campus from the library, and spends his evenings memorising recipes with the fervour he usually saves for last minute test revision. No-one quite dares use the Haus kitchen to practice, because what if they damage Bitty’s baking stuff he will either cry or kill them or both, and take over miscellaneous dorm kitchens to try and memorise the basic sponge recipe. A bemused Farmer lets Chowder use her kitchen, and promptly tracks down Bitty to ask what on earth is going on, because “he accidentally used salt instead of sugar and I know for a fact he’s done that several times before, why is he trying to bake again now??”

(She joins in with the GBBO re-watch and makes some excellent suggestions for possible challenges.)

Shitty attempts to make macarons, because he suspects that Bitty is going to make them all suffer. He pokes his failed attempt and concludes that Bitty may be prepared to make them all suffer, but he also loves baking too much to inflict this level of horror on himself, surely?

He largely stops trying to prepare himself and instead starts waxing lyrical about baking in the context of gender roles, mostly the hypocrisy that being able to bake a cake is still considered an essential life skill for a girl, but no one has ever thought it unreasonable that he has never baked a cake before in his life, and winds up on Wikipedia at three fifteen A.M. having gone down a Google rabbit hole that has somehow led to him reading the page about the societal structure of meerkats.

In the end, Bitty decides on three challenges, as a nod to the format and a fun way to get some variety; cookie decoration (he’ll provide the prepped dough, bake ‘em once everyone’s used whatever cookie cutters they want, and then they do the decoration), mini-cake construction (everyone gets a batch of miniature sponges, their choice of how to glue the two layers together and add finishing touches), and one actual baking round - the showstopper pie.

Lardo makes a schedule, because the Haus kitchen won’t take all seven of the team who got themselves into this mess trying to work in it all at once, so that they rotate between stages and go in batches to Murder Shop ‘n Stop to buy their pie filling ingredients.

It’s a disaster, and Bitty watches the chaos unfold with entirely unconcealed glee, keeping up a cheerful voice over - and if his chirps happen to distract the boys and lead to much panicked responses and second guessing, well, that’ s just the nature of baking in a high-pressure environment, isn’t it?

The first round of judging involves a lot of guesswork. Admittedly, Chowder’s blue and white creations are a lot easier to figure out if you’ve seen the inside of the boy’s room and could reliably guess what he was going to attempt, so there are a lot of puzzled looks exchanged amongst the judges until someone makes the link with the Sharks hoodie he’s wearing.

It turns out that Dex can do a pretty neat galaxy icing pattern if he puts his mind to it, even if he got the consistency wrong; Bitty may actually have to try it himself, sometime.

(”Jack, did you…did you actually do maple leaf cut outs with a maple glaze? That’s…”

“Gotta stay on brand, eh? And I was told I wasn’t allowed to do plain circles and decorate them as hockey pucks.”

Most of the minature sponge cakes are gradually sliding more and more lopsided as the various attempts at butter-cream or other fillings prove unable to hold. Holster has somehow managed to cut his at almost a perfect diagonal instead of in half; Nursey simply gave up and presents his as an ‘open sandwich’ rather than trying to glue the layers back together.

(“Shits, what did you even put in the middle of - is this marmite? Did you - did you seriously - why?”

“Listen, love it or hate it, and I happen to love it. Sweet and savoury, a classic combination -”

“Marmite victoria sponge is not a classic combination, Shitty.”

“I was told to be creative, thank you very much, unlike those of us who went with jam and butter-cream.”

“I like jam and butter-cream. Anyway, I did use apple jam, that’s not typical. And I put maple syrup in the -”

“Bro, I am also from Canada, and even I will say that is incredibly Canadian of you.”)

Bitty almost weeps when he sees the final range of pies produced. He was braced for them to be terrible; he just wasn’t quite prepared enough. For a moment, he wonders if this whole stunt was really worth it.

Fillings are burnt while pastry is undercooked to the point of being raw - or the filling is horribly flavoured and the pastry overcooked until it’s about the consistency of wood chips.

Ransom has managed a surprisingly pretty lattice over three-quarters of his pie, but ran out of pastry for the last section. Chowder forgot to leave air-holes in the lid of his (and put salt instead of sugar in the filling).

Nursey isn’t sure what ingredient he forgot, but it was clearly one of the essential ones.

But there is one pie that actually looks…if not something that Bitty would have baked himself, at least something he wouldn’t be instantly offended to be connected to. The lid is a near perfect golden brown, with precisely spaced snips to let the steam waft gently out. The pastry is precisely crimped around the edge of the pie dish, with the excess trimmed away to leave a clean margin. The filling is sweet but not sickly.

The decorative pastry maple leaves add a certain artistry, the main judge declares with the pleased smile of someone who knows they were created with a cookie cutter bought from his own shop.

The video of Jack being presented with an ice-skate patterned cake tin and a matching apron as he’s declared the ‘Samwell Hockey Haus Bake-Off Champion gets re-tweeted by Bob Zimmerman within five minutes of being posted, to a flurry of Twitter activity.

Lardo and Bitty were definitely not expecting their slightly-spite-motivated publicity stunt to go quite this public.

(It was a really good pie, though.)

#Check! Please #OMGCP #omgcp fic #my writing #I...can't remember what sparked this idea but it's been sitting 3/4s finished in my drafts for ages #I actually cannot recall if Jack's love of maple syrup is canon or fanon at this point #or at least his insistance on using Proper Maple Syrup

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imadeletingmysocials · 4 years

Text

Thinking about leftist in-fighting again and how pointless of a charade it is, but ironically at the same time taking a moment to comment on the fascinating subject of Tankies! ALTERNATIVE TITLE: CENTER-ACTUAL-LEFTIST

Can we talk about how fascinating tankies are like? These are often people who were starving to death due to capitalism (which enforces their belief towards COMPLETE and total devotion to anything against capitalism) but then later I guess got some sort of job and is buying North Korea memorabilia, like at least 200 dollars in memorabilia after buying a gun (because if you’re a maoist/whatever without a gun, all I gotta say is: what the fuck?) For the most part I worry for them if they were die a warrior’s death or be imprisoned before they had the chance to do so. But for the most part: they aren’t hurting no one outside of sometimes being annoying online. For all we know all they do is spend their time doing that, they argue online the whole day but they’re very shy in person because they might be confronted with the idea that maybe LGBT people are treated badly in totalitarian states (we don’t know that for sure I guess, also what fucking reason would exist for such policy outside of pure biased malicious intent, if I were a dictator i’d let gay people be cool LMAO I hear cuba gives free transgender transitions, can’t speak for NK though).

Tankies might even have the same fanaticism like neo-nazis have through some really far-fetched absurd relation but unlike neo-nazis for the most part they aren’t harming anybody we care for, and they fight the same stuff we do in the end. Outside of their actions for the most part the whole tankie stuff just seems like a weird nerdy hobby. It doesn’t help that a lot of it is centered around historic iconism (a lot of which doesn’t feel that relevant nowadays, I get liking certain icons due to what they represent for the people but outside of an image of nostalgia and example they aren’t THAT relevant) which in the end bares resemblance to nerdy historic collectors who love to collect memorabilia, something that due to my personality type cannot take seriously. Like I can easily imagine the same happening with comic book people and how they use pictures of Stan Lee with quotes that would motivate you to be a hero!

I LIKE TO consider myself a CENTRIST, a leftist centrist, in other words, if you see you fuckers fighting too much and end up doing what the right-wing want I’m gonna think you’re right-wing, I hate anarchists who uncritically dislike Cuba and I hate tankies who uncritically dislike Rojava. You can go about socialism in multiple ways, state-wise, people-accepting, fuck you could even accept money and collaborate with America a little if you still keep your leftists principles, and if you are 100% against these socialist movements then you just seem like a right-winger at that point.

Here’s a thing ok: functionally, at the moment, all leftists kinda operate the same, leftists in America or capitalist countries in general, outside of title their actions are usually union-stuff, gun ownership yadda yadda. Especially if they have other leftists to do things with, personally I don’t get leftists who are like “quit doing nothing”! Like if you don’t have a organisation or group, at the most you’re like everyone else and you just bought a gun, have a lot of resources (theory) and are waiting and bidding your time, doing what you can, if you see something do something but as individuals we are mostly powerless outside of wishing to be the next Chris Dorner out of a cool suicide and going out in a cool way, so we just wait until we can build or hope to find a coalition.

I’m fine with tankies that by the end of the day aren’t hurting nobody, are mostly doing the same good activism most leftists do and just really like history memorabilia. Most anarcho-communist friends I know accept and understand certain socialist states as to why and how they operated, I cannot say the same about the many tankies who are the straight-up-Rojava-hating kind though!

So basically here’s the full answer to that question: Can tankies like legit be an issue? Of course, I think the biggest red flag is being against rojava honestly like at that point you're too far gone. You could even be ok with states that are secluded out of self-defense due to imperialism (and due to them being shrouded in mystery the fact are mostly that we don’t know for sure anything at all about them, however not letting many people just... Leave or allow transparency is kinda of foreboden, you need to understand that, and if you don’t see that as being fucked up suspicious activity AT ALL without a single ounce of nuance well you are literally brainwashed and just as bad as the Americans who use excuses as to why America operates in such a shady way, but hey! Fear of Spies! I just hope they allow their citizens to turn and eye on pirate stuff like Cuba since it’s a victimless crime, also Karl Marx and Mao said everyone should have guns so if your country doesn’t allow it’s workers to have guns well that’s a bit of a problem isn’t it, seems like a hierarchy against the people where not everyone can have the same amount of power to me) but the moment you're against a group of people for the people without being a state you've showcased yourself as just being a 100% state worshiper first and interested in the struggle of the people second, like treating the idea of a recognized state as the be-all goal.

At that point you’re just some weird religious-like nerd who thinks life should be a game of those Sim games were you can be a dictator (and even in Tropico you can be a nice person that allows immigrants and people leaving the state holy shit) and as far as things go you’re only useful for joining protests people universally like ironically against American’s anti-immigration and racism. North Korea being this weird rape victim of the world isn’t gonna change much in what you do outside of it, it’s pure religious follower ship built on faith and I guess we should respect your religion but if you actually cause more problems than not then that just makes you seem like you’re on another side, because as far as we know it’s funny that most of us don’t 100% know what’s going on at all in North Korea cuz we don’t live there, all we know is that they’re just playing defense.

If you’re the type to start some kind of topic with me and be like “rojava is a pettit bourgeois state” kind in mind, we aren’t in the cold war anymore, we don’t have a soviet superpower out there installing bases in our places for aid, the soviet union no longer exists and you need a super power backing up your kickstarted state for the sake of survival. You cannot aid yourself with THE OTHER super power, there are no sides to pick here, it’s not a yes or no question, Venezuela isn’t going out there to aid, North Korea, or Cuba isn’t either, ok cuba sends doctors but for the most part if you receive aid in wartime, it is not an option, you need to take it. As for anarchists being nothing but “petit bourgeois with no principles”: chances are you are on the internet, chances are you are nothing but a petit bourgeious as well considering we all live in a world corrupted by capital and everything we do, whenever it be for good intentions or not is within the framework of profit and capital, i could buy a commune to aid my comrades and live off the grid but I am still part of that state, i am nevertheless buying a house, everyone is a part of that state, America’s imperialism owns the fucking world. Don’t act like you better for that, it shows your lack of understanding and feeling better for it. You’re being petty because in a world with few choices, a group of people had to receive aid from America.

#rojava #north korea #tankies #leftism

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rwbyremnants · 4 years

Link

WARNINGS: gender play, anal play, analingus, prostate orgasm, pegging, masturbation.

NOTE: Oh SHIT! It's all going down! Haha I'll see you guys in 2020 with the final chapter in this tale (but not in the White Noise universe, of course)!

=Chapter 10

The usual bag of tricks rested comfortably in the passenger seat of Winter Schnee's car as she neared Qrow's apartment. They had not been set to have a meet-up for a few more days, but she thought she might surprise him with an impromptu visit. A cancelled business meeting left her afternoon wide open, and she would rather check in on him - and hopefully net herself some "afternoon delight" - than find some paperwork that hadn't been done yet, or else go bother Weiss and Yang yet again.

Of course, one of the unspoken reasons she was being so nice and considerate of him lately was because she felt a bit guilty for keeping secrets. It was implicit that when Ruby had contacted her with a few simple-yet-direct questions, she would not tell her uncle. That was a line neither relation wanted to cross, and she full well understood the reasons.

Especially when she had asked Winter if she'd be willing to engage her in what she termed a "practice session"; not a real one, and not one that would end in either of them being stimulated to orgasm, but just one that would sort of walk her through the types of things that could happen in person, rather than reading or talking about it in theory. Winter had of course started out asking why she didn't approach Blake, but when directed to ask her herself, Blake's response-text was pretty curt.

"You really think I want to Dom my ex's little sister?! No WAY, not even for practice; it's just too close to home for me personally. You can if you want to though, I trust you to treat her right"

With that thought in mind, Winter chuckled to herself as she pulled into a parking spot near Qrow's apartment. It was going to be weird, taking on someone as inexperienced as Ruby who was even slightly related by blood to her usual Dom, but she also thought it showed remarkable maturity for her to ask for this type of session rather than jumping straight into the deep end. And, as directed by Blake, she would treat the girl with the utmost of care. That was a lot more important than her other reservations.

Then she was knocking at Qrow's door, so she decided to put all thoughts of Ruby out of her mind until afterward. It was only prudent. The first few seconds of Winter knocking, there was no response. It wasn't until she knocked for a second time that some footsteps could be heard approaching the door, and the latch was heard turning.

"What part of 'give me a week' do you not understa- oh��" The instant the door was thrown open, the angered rant was immediately cut off. An unshaven, unkempt Qrow had opened it, looking rather worse for wear – and smelling of beer a lot worse than usual, as well.

"Oh," was all she had to say at first. Seemed Winter caught him on a bad day. Her excitement over surprising him began to dwindle at an accelerated rate as she took in the look of him… and the smell. It was a combination of liquor and unwashed male that did not become him. "I… sorry, I should have called first. Don't know what I was thinking." Of course, she did, but now it seemed stupid and she didn't want to admit she was hoping to "surprise" him.

"No no I- uh… Sorry, been a hectic day." Although that's all he admitted, it certainly seemed like the wrong word. Taxing, perhaps, but this didn't seem like something caused by a rush of being busy for a single day. Realising he'd left her still standing in the doorway, he stood to one side, gesturing to the living room. "C’mon in."

With a duck of her head, she did so, looking around the room. Everything was a shambles. A few things were in cardboard boxes, and everything else was stacked up randomly, or else stuck in trash bags.

"What… happened to your apartment? Were your robbed?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, right." Shutting and locking the door behind the door behind them both, he ran a hand through his greasier than usual hair in thought. This was particularly strange for Qrow. His place was rarely tidy, but this much was a different story. It clearly wasn't just things the usual day-to-day mess, and unless he suddenly developed a hoarding habit, there seemed no explanation he could give.

"I'm just…” Qrow laughed and shrugged. “Havin' a good oll clear out. Y'know, throwin’ out some trash, organising, all that Queer Eye shit."

"Some trash? This is… just about everything you own!" Then she cleared her throat and attempted to smile, despite being so wrong-footed by the circumstances. "Well, if you'd like a lift to the store, or… to Goodwill… I have my car."

"Not today, thanks. I still need to decide what I can put on eBay, what I can give to the nieces… I guess I got pretty caught up in it all." Again, it seemed like a made up excuse. At this rate, him being robbed would have made the most sense for his behaviour and the strange circumstances she found him in. Still, Qrow was stubborn, and too proud for his own good.

Although there was one thing that was shooting his pride down a little, that was becoming obvious when he held an arm up to quickly sniff, only to curl his nose up. "Right… I should probably have showered today. Just got distracted."

Her own nose curled just as much. "Indeed. In fact, in you get, and then we'll… find you some supplies, or I can help sort. Ah, ah, ah!" she cut him off when he tried to speak, pushing him toward the bathroom. "Shower now, worry about these other things later."

"Alright alright, fine. Just, let me look at stuff before you throw 'em out, alright?"

The instant the water could be heard running, Winter set to work. The coffee table had already been cleared, and was now home to a stack of boxes, each labelled accordingly. With the weight of some of them, it really did seem like it was everything rather than just a charity haul. The rest of the room was more or less cleared, which left the only two alternatives to be the kitchen or the bedroom.

Considering Qrow would still need to use the kitchen, Winter headed to the bedroom instead. A sight that appeared much more like Qrow; an unmade bed, clothes over the top of the sheets, and a messy computer desk. At the very least this didn't look like a looter's treasure trove like the living room did.

"Even in here," she sighed, beginning to straighten up the papers on his desk a bit. There wasn't really anything there that looked like it might need to be sold off, so she focused instead on making it look orderly. However, as she was stacking a few of them up…

She saw the word "overdue" in red. Much more importantly, she saw the "eviction notice" at the top in large, bold letters.

Freezing on the spot, she looked away from the paper as she thought furiously. This wasn't her business. Qrow was not her "boyfriend", or someone that was more permanently part of her life; they didn't have a domestic arrangement of any kind. At the same time, he was a friend, and one she cared very deeply about. She knew she should forget she saw it and pretend that she never had, but concern for his welfare won out over the need to respect his privacy.

As she had feared, he was being evicted. Too many late rent payments seemed to be the main cited reason, although the letter also made sure to mention a few noise violations. Her head dipped guiltily; that was as much her own fault as Qrow's. How could he never have mentioned this? Her curiosity demanded she dig further into the other papers, but she resisted. The one on top had been bad enough, and it was in plain sight.

As she set the papers down, she bumped the laptop and the screen came on. The browser was open to craigslist, showing a few pictures of an apartment above someone's garage. It was a small space that didn't even have its own bathroom; something for a boy fresh out of college to think of for saving money, but nothing for a fully-grown man to call home. Other open tabs were also listings of various different apartments; similar, tiny one room places that didn't even come furnished. One of which even showed a photo of a mattress on the floor being the bed of someone previously. Why was Qrow looking for something this cheap?

Perhaps he could answer those questions in person. The sound of running water had began to fade away, and within a few more minutes, the bathroom door opened. Having forgotten to take a spare set of clothes, he entered the bedroom with only a towel around his waist to cover up.

"Sorry, Snowbird, I just gotta grab-" But he stopped in an instant when noticing the expression on her face, and that the laptop screen was now lit.

"I… apologize," she told him immediately, face carefully neutral now. "It wasn't my intention to snoop, and I hope you can believe me, but you should have told me about this."

There was a deep sigh from him as he ran a hand over his now shaven chin. So she had obviously seen everything, considering how all the bills were sorted into a pile as well as the lit screen. No faking out of this one. "How exactly do I tell ya? With flowers and a smile? Winter, it's fuckin' humiliating admitting I've been late with one payment, let alone four months straight."

"Four months? And you didn't…" Then again, he had just said it was humiliating; obviously he wouldn't want to tell her a single thing for fear of losing face. "Well, I'm… sorry to hear you're having money problems, Qrow, but I assure you that-"

"But nothing," he interrupted, glaring in her direction instead and frowning. "Everyone's got enough to worry about, with Weiss being ready to pop and the media trying to get into all that. The record biz for you and your pops. My income issue’s the last thing you guys should be worried about."

With a heavy sigh, Winter leaned against the desk, staring down at a patch of floor between them. "So, when were you going to let the family know? When they came to call and the landlords told them your forwarding address is under a bridge?"

"C’mon, don't exaggerate." Rolling his eyes for a moment, he went back to what he intended in the first place; find a set of clothes to wear. As he got a set of underwear from the nearby drawer, he was able to see one of the flats on the screen again. One of the worse of the few he had looked at. "So I'm not gonna be setting up in the Hilton… so what? Who needs a personal bathroom anyway? Just more for me to clean."

"Don't be stupid. You're not taking that place, even if you do have to take one of these." Her hand drifted toward the laptop again, but she opted not to touch; she had seen too much already, and he was cross. "Do you… want me to come with you to look?"

"No!" Leaning against the desk, he couldn't even power himself to look at Winter anymore. This was probably the worst she had seen him in a long time, and she'd caught him in some of the roughest patches. As he looked down to the numerous notices again, he found his hand curling into a fist. "Don’t need your damn pity, okay? I don't want people worrying about me! I'm a grown man, I can look after myself. I-I… I should be able to, anyway. Not some big baby."

She started to take a step toward him, then thought better of it and remained where she was. "Yes, but… if that isn't working, you should also feel like you can reach out for help. It's a brave man who does all he can on his own, but the foolish one who keeps trying alone when…" Her sigh was regretful, but she finished her statement anyway. "When clearly, it's not working."

"I don't need the speech, or a pity party." There wasn't much more he could say other then that. Finally turning back around, he sat himself on the end of the desk instead, running a hand through his damp hair. "What's done is done. Unless I somehow win a wad of cash, I can't exactly afford somewhere decent."

"You could stay with Taiyang, couldn't you? Just until you get back on your feet. And I have spare room, and I'm fairly certain Yang and Weiss do, too." A hint of a smile ghosted across her face. "You could be their live-in nanny. Sounds like a sitcom, doesn't it?"

Yet again he found himself rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I'd be a great influence on a kid, ‘specially on the days when I'm so wasted I can't get up. They've already got one mental case in that house, they don't need two."

But the instant that phrase left his lips, he froze up again, eyes beginning to widen when he realised what he'd just implied, and what he was referring to. That was a line that should never have been crossed again, especially not aimed at his own family.

"That was too far. Way too far. Shit."

Winter did laugh, but it was a strained, uncomfortable laughter. "As if I'd blame you. Don't forget, I'm the one that essentially caused her to have a mental illness in the first place."

Yet again, he deeply sighed, looking off outwardly into the distance. He knew he'd said enough, even if the person in question wasn't around to hear it. It still didn't make it fair. "Some surprise this is, huh? You come for some afternoon fun for yourself after a long day and have to be dealing with me being a dick to our family. Feel free to bail now if you want."

"A 'dick', hm? Not to my way of thinking. This… has been worrying you for a long time, hasn't it?" He didn't answer, so she finally walked around the desk and sat next to him, close enough that they could easily touch. "I wish you didn't think you have to walk through this alone."

"But I do have to, Winter. I'm the one that didn't pay my own damn rent, I'm the one that needs to find a new place. As much as I appreciate the company and the thought, I'm not gonna drag anyone down into my own personal swamp of bullshit!"

This wasn't like anything Winter had ever seen before in him. Qrow was usually so full of himself, annoyingly so. It was like he was an entirely different person. After a long minute of silence, she said in a soft voice, "Then… should I leave you be? You didn't invite me over, and clearly I'm just in the way here. When you have this much to think about, I'm…" Her hands made a helpless gesture.

There was still no further response. But it only took looking at him to see that one wasn't needed. The words might have strongly suggested he wanted to be alone, but from the shrugged shoulders and tense expression, it was very obvious he wanted the opposite. He was just far too stubborn to ask.

"Stop being so anal," she teased, bumping his arm with her elbow. "Relax. I know the temptation to be all wound up about this is heavy, but I know from experience, stressing yourself out will not improve a single thing."

"How the hell do you put up with me?" He finally found himself looking up from the floor and toward her. The confidence was still absent, but at the very least, he was able to force a nervous laugh of his own, even if it only lasted a second. "I can't be what you picture of an ideal guy. Alcoholic, unemployed, arrogant; yet you still give me the time of day. Makes me wonder if you're kinda nutty yourself."

"Obviously. Then again… I sometimes think we all are, in our ways. At least, when I said that to my therapist, she agreed that it's probably true - and she's a professional."

"Huh. Didn't think you were the therapy-going type." But after that, there was yet more silence in the room. As much as jokes and comments were Qrow's strong point, this didn't seem the time. But in the end, he rubbed the back of his neck again. "I guess… Well, it's embarrassing enough for me to admit this shit to Tai. And with the baby n' all, I’d be dumping stress on top of stress. I barely know Glynda, didn't feel right even thinking about talking to her. Then you…" Shrugging his shoulders again, he followed that with, "I'd rather not risk the best thing that's happened to me in a looong while."

Winter had no easy response for that. Instead, she merely leaned back against the desk for a few seconds, pondering his comments. Eventually, she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere. Especially not when… it looks like you need me right now."

"Then you really are crazy." He chuckled to himself again, getting up from the desk at last to continue fetching a set of clothes like he'd first intended. But pausing just after he'd pulled out one of the drawers, he looked to her with a smile. "But… I guess I should admit, as miserable as I am right now, I am happy to see you."

"That's good. If you saw me and thought 'Oh shit, it's Winter,' I'd be more concerned." Smirking as he fetched his clothes, she gestured around the room. "And anyway, you've made a good start with packing, wherever you end up. So I don't think you're totally hopeless."

More and more, he was beginning to think about what was said. She had a spare room. He'd noticed it a few times in his moments of staying overnight, but never really got to have a look. If it was anything like her master bedroom, it would be a fair size. Definitely no worse than the very flat he was about to be kicked out of – and a considerable upgrade from any of the ones on craigslist. It also offered good company, in and out the bedroom.

But there was a problem.

"You offering me your spare room though. No offense, but it’s kinda outta my range; I couldn't afford to pay toward rent of that place if I sold everything I had."

Her lips quirked into a slight pout. "Do you really think I'd accept your money if you tried? Not when you're in the position you are, Qrow. I do expect you to help keep the place tidy, buy some of the groceries, things like that, of course. But that's only if you would consent to living there."

"…You're serious?" He had been just about to slide on a pair of boxers before he froze, looking over to her again and raising an eyebrow. "What about your pop? Or Weiss even? Thought you had rules with mixing work and play."

"I do," she sighed heavily. "But this is more important; it's about your survival, your quality of life. I'd still prefer to keep my family from finding out, but they so rarely visit my apartment that it won't likely be an issue."

"Huh." It still seemed such an alien concept to him, that someone was so willing to help him and ask for nothing in return. Apart from paying for groceries of course. "You're actually willing to put up with me in your apartment? Cause I warn you now, I like watching cheesy sitcoms and war movies."

"I tend to watch more documentary programming than anything. However, I'm sure we can find a happy compromise." Then she fixed him with a hard stare. "I would insist that you try finding employment again; I know luck has been against you, but there has to be something out there for you. Just so you don’t think this will be a handout."

"Well, I'm doing that anyways. I do the odd job for cash-in-hand when people call, but other than that most of my day is job hunting." Though when Winter raised an eyebrow in doubt, he spared her a small smile. "And drinking, I guess."

"Well, there will have to be less drinking. I'm not saying give it up, but you have to cut back if you're to be presentable to interviewers; keep it to the evenings."

"Never drink before an interview." The very conversation with Winter was seeming like an interview of its own, but it was far more bearable when the end game was considered. It really would be a solution to his problems, and be far more convenient for them both. In fact… "Does this mean extra play?"

That brought about the most catlike smile he'd ever seen on the businesswoman, but instead of responding verbally, she merely shrugged.

"Oh come on, your big strapping Rooster just down the hall; how can you resist?" There was the Qrow she knew and liked. Over confident and flirty, and still with nothing on. Giving a small smirk, he abandoned that task, and instead sat on the edge of the bed. "And I can tell that's why you came today, right?"

"Well, yes. Not that I knew there would be a problem, of course, but… I had intended to grant you a surprise session with Princess." Her head nodded toward the living room as she added, "And I have the accessories to prove it."

"Then I guess these will be useless for the evening…" He threw the pair of boxers straight back into the drawer, standing up again as his smirk got even more mischievous. "One more noise complaint won't hurt; might as well leave with a bang."

"Pun intended?" she chuckled, walking past him into the living room, where she had left the supplies. In no time at all, she was walking back into the bedroom, eyes flicking to his nude form.

"So, I brought along a pretty fair selection. Nothing big or bulky, but most of the various items we might use are here. Anything you're in the mood for?"

That was a good question. In their months together, there wasn't much left to explore. Most anything dominating with Winter had been tried, and most things with Qrow had also been attempted, apart from those that didn't abide by his rule.

Although, that rule was starting to become less of an issue. The more Qrow thought back to the conversation with Blake that first time, that gesture with her finger, the more he was beginning to seriously consider letting the rule slip. Winter would know what she was doing, and they had safety words. There was very little reason to stop them from experimenting except for his own anxieties.

"Maybe… you could Dom tonight?"

That caused Winter to blink, and quite a few times. "Me? Oh… I had assumed you'd want to be on top." Mostly because his life was so out of control at the moment; she presumed he would want to regain that through play. Quickly she followed up with, "But of course, that's fine by me! What sort of experience are you interested in? Petplay? Spanking the naughty schoolboy?"

"Well, I kinda want your input on this one. Cause… something I wanna try. You remember the rule I set?"

"Which rule was that? Oh - the anal limit? Don't worry, I won't even go back there tonight. We can focus completely on Rooster's rooster." The last was said with a slight lilt of teasing, but mostly, her tone was very gentle with him. She wanted him to know that anything he wanted was his; she was fine with him playing the "power bottom" role for one night.

"Actually… damn, how do I put this?" Yet again he scratched his head. This wasn't going to be a regular session of play. It seemed that Ruby wasn't the only one of this side the family she'd be guiding through certain experiments. "I was wondering if we could, uh… try out some stuff."

"You… wait, wait." She walked over to sit down next to him on the bed. "This is a pretty sudden change, isn't it? Are you… sure? I mean, I have no problem - especially with you freshly showered - but if you're on the fence about this, then perhaps we should talk through it first."

Cheeks the tiniest bit rosy, he answered, "I've been meaning to bring it up a while actually. That first night we went to the club, Blake was tellin’ me about it. I was curious. But… y'know, macho pride, or whatever." He shrugged his shoulders yet again. "But I figure, you've just seen me at my worst, so there ain't exactly any shame anymore."

For a moment, she watched him as he carried the burden inside of himself. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips up against his neck before whispering, "I'll fuck your ass until you're begging for mercy, Qrow. But that won't heal what's inside of you. If you do want to talk later, I'll be around."

It brought a smile to his lips. Turning toward her instead, he looked once again between two things. Her eyes and her lips. Both were fast becoming his favourite thing, even if the relationship wasn't a romantic one. It was a friendship that brought comfort to them both, something that meant it didn't matter what people thought. With that in mind, he asked, "Don't suppose you wanna stay the night?"

"Oh, I could be convinced," she sighed, as if it were some great burden. Then she reached back and gently patted his hindquarters. "Now, as for this… you'd better start thinking about just how much you want to try tonight. I'll give you a good fingering if you want, or we could go even further than that. Up to you."

"Fingers sound like the best start," he agreed, finally undoing the towel and tossing it to one side instead. It seemed pointless to keep it on now. Yet again, he found himself looking to the bag that Winter had prepared. No doubt she would have only brought items to suit her needs in anticipation he'd take charge as normal. The strap on wouldn't be in there. However…

"Hey, what about that vibrator? That in your bag of tricks?"

Her smile was growing wider. "Somebody really is feeling adventurous!" Her hand trailed up his toned chest, through the iron-grey hairs that curled gently there. "How about… you let me take care of you, and worry about what I have with me later? I'll start off wearing a glove and then try some fun things." The hand stilled. "But don't forget our safety signal, and use it if I try something that doesn't sit right."

"Yeah, the chicken noises, got it." Nodding in agreement, he finally shuffled himself further back on the bed, laying back on it. A glove didn't sound so scary, not when Winter would know how to take absolute care. Looking to her from his angle, he smirked. "Have at it, I guess."

"You guess?" she burst out, unable to keep from laughing. Meanwhile, she did stand up from the bed to fetch her bag, out of which she nipped only two things: a small bottle of lube, and a pair of disposable latex gloves. "Now, this doesn't have to have all the 'domming' language if you don't want, but if it is what you want… you know what two words you have to say to start things off."

"Long as you're gentle." He had already began to part his legs, enough to give Winter plenty of room to work with. If it was any other situation, he would have leapt straight in, allowed Winter to call him everything under the sun. But in this instance, he wished for a more gentle start, just till he was used to things. Still, he trusted her enough to do that, and uttered those words: "Begin Play."

Winter paused to smile down at him as she pulled on the second glove before she nodded to convey her understanding. A thoughtful expression passed over her face; there was a route she could take their evening, but wanted to test it out first. See if he was interested.

"Someone's been a bad little girl." Then she raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for a response.

Little girl? That made Qrow raise an eyebrow. Seemed they were going to be experimenting with more than just his back end. Not knowing how else to respond, he lowered his head. "Yes, Princess."

A hand pressed to her lips as she suppressed a laugh. She had been expecting him to gruffly brush off calling him a "girl" in this situation - or any other! But now that he had acquiesced… this might be fun, indeed.

"Poor girl," she sighed, trailing a hand from hip to down along the thigh. "Keeping secrets like this… it won't do. Princess will have to punish you."

"This is gonna be so weird…" he muttered under his breath, yet did nothing to stop her as she toyed and stared at him more and more, finding himself beginning to blush. Her other hand fell to her hip as she gazed down at him, wondering where she might go from there. His anatomy was not erect, but it was fully exposed for her to toy with. But should she?

Not yet. "Turn over, because this little girl has earned herself a spanking."

"Yes, Your Highness." Back to spanking again. Seemed Qrow had discovered what Winter particularly enjoyed when it was her turn to be dominant. As much as he didn't mind, he was rather glad that she didn't have the paddle this time; the last session had him unable to sit properly for a few days. Rolling over as asked, he couldn't resist giving his hips a small shake to entice her.

"Ooh, she wants it," Princess chuckled as she watched her target sway. "We'll see how long that lasts." And without another warning, she reared back and gave it a little SMACK!

"RGH!" Even if it was barely anything compared to what Winter was capable of, it was enough to make him flinch, and clench his backside in response to the pain. But it wasn’t really bad. He could never explain why if someone were to ask, but it was almost an enjoyable sensation.

"Naughty little thing," she breathed, rubbing her hand in a circle over his cheeks. "You know you should have told me about the money. That you wanted to be fingered. This is what happens when you don't tell Princess everything."

Then, another spanking, this one with a smidgen more force. Flinching yet again, he growled under his breath. As much as the money situation was still a worry, Winter had offered enough of a solution for it to be talked about without too much stress. Frowning, he tried to look back toward her.

"S-Sorry, Princess. It won't happen again."

"Of course it won't. My naughty girl is learning her lesson, isn't she?" Another swat, followed by more caresses. "Learning it good."

Another flinch, another grunt, Qrow could only push his head into the pillows. The treatment and name calling still was an alien concept. Not that he got as much out of it as Winter did, but he could handle it. Yet again, he swayed his hips side to side, trying to entice more. Rearing back, she obliged what his hips were telling her, rearing back to thud her hand into him yet again. And again. With one more, she stopped and stroked over his soft hemispheres of flesh, taking a moment to trail down to the dangling sex and rub over everything there, as well.

"Does she like this?"

"Yes…" Perhaps it was the idea of being owned that made the pain so titillating. He could certainly see why Winter enjoyed being dommed so much. But yet again, it couldn't last. One strike hit the same spot too hard, and the pain was too much to ignore. Wincing, he grasped the sheets, breaking his character a moment. "O-Okay, no more. It's good but… argh."

"Agreed, I think you've had enough punishment. Now, it's time for your reward." Instantly, a finger was pushing up against Qrow's tightly-puckered hole. "And I think you've been waiting for this for a long, long time, haven't you?"

"Argh!" Instinctively he was pushing himself further against the bed, eyes snapping open wide as he gripped the sheets yet again. "Easy! Your… girl needs… a little warning. Help me get ready."

"I'll make her ready." But a moment later, there was a cold, wet sensation dribbling down from higher up, and the fingertip began to move from side to side as it coated the opening in wetness.

"Nnnn! Nnnoooo waiting with you, is there?" With this being more of an experimental session, Qrow wasn't too concerned with keeping his character. If anything, it made it more enjoyable, putting him at ease on what was going to happen. Within no time, he was relaxing into the sensation, letting go of the sheets and letting himself fully sprawl out for her. Already he could feel his rear relaxing as well, muscles loosening to let her in.

"Nope," she told him easily as her digit moved back and forth. He seemed to be much more open to this action than last time, and she could already feel the resistance giving way. The other hand drifted back and forth over his package, but not truly stroking; just teasing lightly.

There was a pleased smile on his face all through her actions. The more she prodded, the more he was opening up to her actions. Eventually he even found himself pushing back against them, biting his lips in anticipation for what was to come. He could tell this was going to feel good.

And it did - when she replaced the finger with her tongue, pushing it in to the level the fingertip had penetrated without any hesitation.

"AAaaaahhhh!" For the second time, a tongue was pressed into his tight opening, wedging him open around the wet muscle. Why was someone of her stature so keen on putting her tongue here? It was mad! But it was doing the trick, helping him open up more and more.

"Mmhhh," she breathed into him as she continued the treatment, both hands gripping his backside - and a lot harder than was strictly necessary. Her tongue was deeper than she had pushed last time, waggling from side to side slightly.

"Nnnn! Wint- u-Uh, Princess!" he called out, finally now starting to clench at the sheets as her tongue worked its way deeper, opening him further and preparing him for what was to come. That was if she planned that anymore.

"Is this what y-you like? T-to put your tongue there?!"

Back her face pulled, only for her finger to slide right back where it had been a moment ago. "Do you hear yourself?" she asked him in a confident tone as she easily flew past his lowered defenses. "Why do you think I like doing it? It makes little girls moan."

"Aaah… Hah… Aaaah…" But the moaning didn't begin until he felt the gloved finger return to the area again, until it pushed even firmer past the outer ring. The lubricated latex had finally worked her magic inside his body. Knowing it was his first time going that far, in that area, Winter began to push in and out at a very gradual pace. She knew how wild she could drive him, but there was no sense in scaring him off by jumping the gun.

The noises coming from Qrow were unreal. She was barely even in there and already he was continuously moaning and growling under his breath. How could he have not known how sensitive that area was? How could people in general not know this?! It was no wonder men like Sun would submit themselves if this is what they were feeling.

"Look at this little slut," Winter purred as she increased her pace, watching as the skin dragged against her knuckle on its way back out of him. "She really enjoys what I'm doing. Probably wanted this for a long, long time now… just didn't know how to ask."

"Hhhh!" He continued to growl out against the pillow, finding himself even pushing back against the fingers! For shame, he really did enjoy this more than he wanted to admit.

Especially so when he felt her finger brush against something very particular inside, and ended up suddenly gasping. The little sound caused Winter to hesitate, glancing down at him.

"Ooh, did I find something fun inside of her? What could it be?" Her finger hooked downward again, attempting to tease the same spot. Of course, she knew where it was, but she hadn't been aiming for it so early on.

"Fff-fuck! W-What is…" He could barely string a sentence together anymore. The finger stroked over that something a little more fully now, rubbing up against the oddly ridged little mass inside of him. This wasn't her first time toying with one, but it was the first time she'd touched Qrow in such a deeply sensitive region. His reactions were enough to encourage her to do more.

It was such an intense sensation. He couldn't get enough of it! The tightness of his own muscles around her finger added in with the massaging of the gland was becoming one of the greatest things he'd ever felt, even if it had barely began. In fact, it brought another bout of delicious shame when he could already feel his legs beginning to quiver, as if he was about to finish.

With a giddy little laugh, she stretched down and behind her as she continued to tease his little entrance, having to stretch her arms out but being able to reach. Then she began to shift slightly from side to side as she maintained the pace, not even bothering to explain her actions.

The strangest thing Qrow had ever felt happened. He finished, as he suspected he would, ending up shivering and shuddering at the mercy of Winter's fingers while he growled out loudly. And yet, he could feel nothing had happened with his member. It was barely even hard, but there was nothing aside from the slight glistening of pre. But it had felt like an orgasm.

"Whu…" he panted. "What was that?"

"Ooh, interesting…" Leaning back in, Winter's free hand drifted up and down his thigh as she held her finger still for a moment. "Seems like you have just enjoyed your first internal orgasm. You really are a good girl now."

"Internal… what?" Eyes widening, he took another few breaths to compose himself. "You mean you can have a butt orgasm?!"

Giggling bemusedly, Winter's finger began to move again now that he had a moment to recover. "I can't, not really. But you can in very rare instances. Anatomical differences, you know."

"Jesus…" Qrow laughed to himself, still gripping at the sheet as Winter's finger kept itself buried in his rear end. Amusingly, he could continue. In fact, he welcomed the sensation. This really was something new.

"Is my little butt-slut ready for more?" she asked. There was no further elaboration on what she meant, only the question itself.

More. It was something totally new to Qrow that he could do this multiple times in one sitting, or that he even felt up to that. But the finger buried deep within him was still sending tingles, still made him feel incredible. He certainly did want more. Slowly nodding against the pillow, he muttered, "Yeah."

At this muttered wish, she began to more vigorously move her finger back and forth. In the meantime, there was a snapping sound; the lube bottle being opened again, followed by the wheezing of it being poured… but he could not feel any more lube dripping onto his body. What did she mean to do next, exactly? For now, he didn't care. He was just continuing to enjoy the sensations of the finger pumping in and out of him, pace speeding up faster and faster. He might very well have felt like another one, but it felt like something was missing. He'd need stimulation in another area.

"Highness?" He only just managed to ask. "C-can I… Stroke myself?"

"Not yet. Princess still has a surprise for her girl."

A surprise indeed. Next second, the finger withdrew from inside of Qrow and was replaced with something… rounder, larger. Slightly more blunt. Already, it was edging into his body at an extremely slow pace.

"Wha- ah AH AAAAH!" Something was spreading the backside muscles far more than before. Qrow didn't even know that he was able to open up that wide! When it slid inside an inch, he had to look around to find out what it was…

And there was Winter, towering above him, with a length of her own attached to her hips. A rubber one that was doing it's job penetrating his body.

Noticing his gaze, Winter smiled sweetly down at him. "She's noticed her new friend." Her voice was honeyed and soft, and she paused that slightest amount inside of him, letting him adjust. "Do you like it?"

"You're… You're actually… F-fucking me?" It was stating the obvious, but he still couldn't believe it. Even when it was right there before his eyes, he could barely believe he was letting Winter do this to him. Nor could he believe how good it felt there, how good his backside felt being filled by the new object. He needed more of that. As best he could, he tried to shamelessly push himself back onto it, biting his lip to resist moaning again.

"O-oh!" Winter gasped quietly when she saw him being so eager. "The little slut really seems to be enjoying herself! Well, then… shall we begin in earnest?" Pushing her hips forward slightly, she gave him another full inch of the implement before halting again. "Still good?"

"Ooohhh…" He nodded against the pillow, still growling outward in pleasure. It was still an incredible sensation, just as her fingers were earlier. He wanted to keep going, to let her thrust freely.

But he still needed more if he was going to finish. Unable to help himself, one of his hands released the sheets, and immediately went straight to his soft length. Grasping it, he already began to work at it, trying to get it firm and hard again. Never before had he felt this needy, and it was all caused by a fake dick in his backside!

For another moment, she held still and watched him perform, enjoying the show. Then, deciding he was ready for it now, she leaned forward and pushed herself all the way in to the hilt. He was so tight! Still, tight though he was, his body fully accepted her toy with relish. And it would again, and again, and again.

"AAAHH!"

When Qrow first talked about ending his time in the apartment with another noise complaint, this definitely wasn't what he had in mind! In fact, if anyone would have told him a few months ago that this was going to happen to him, he'd have laughed in their face. Yet as he pumped his hardened member, he continued to moan out loudly, unable to help but clench his muscles around the thick dong in his backside to feel it there.

"Honest question," she sighed as she began to thrust in earnest, in and out of his tight hole. "Would you rather do this on your back? I know we started like this, but… up to you."

It would make it easier to pump his length. And it would let him see just who was doing this to him. That was a factor he didn't mind at all, knowing a woman was bringing him so much pleasure in the only entrance he had. Deep down, he preferred that. There was less shame that way.

"O-on my back," he agreed. "I-if you don't… mind."

"Not at all, cutie." But she had a fun surprise in store for him. Lowering her hips as much as she could, displaying an incredible flexibility as she nearly did the splits behind his end, she began to roll him while the cock was still deep within his backside. It was not an easy task, but she seemed determined to make it work.

There was another strained moan as she moved him around as she pleased, feeling the lubed member swirling inside of his sensitive innards. He ended up on his back, resting his legs onto her shoulders to give her plenty of room to work with. Once more, his hand returned to his member, grasping it to keep it hardened.

When he looked up toward her again, his face was completely red. It was something she'd never seen before in him, an animalistic urge to submit. And it was only her who would ever see him like this. Wrapping her hands around his ankles, she favoured him with a dark little grin as she pressed her hips in a little more and rumbled, "So… are you ready for me to ride you all the way to the finish line, my little mare?"

"I thought… hah… Glynda was the mare?" he managed to pant out. Still stubborn, even when he wasn’t the Dom. But regardless, he was already starting to pump his member again. Slowly, just enough to keep the pressure on before she could continue. Clenching around the shaft inside him, he nodded. "R-ready."

"Tonight," she sighed as her hips drew backward an inch at a time, "you are my fine steed, young lady." Then, with no other forewarning, she thrust forward with twice the speed from before, slamming their bodies together with a soft little thud!

"Aaahh!" Another moan for Winter's mare as he was thrust into again with far more intensity than last time. And it didn't stop there; soon Winter was building up her pace. Quite literally fucking him. He increased his pumping to try and keep up, desperately trying to get himself to get another finish. It was more to prove that he could than anything else. Prove that he could finish with Winter being the one inside him.

Only Winter. Ever.

"That's right!" she crowed out, bending his legs back as she picked up to full speed. "Fuck yourself, little princess! Come all over yourself! Show me how much you like me drilling you!"

"AAAH! HAH! HAAAH! H-holy SHIIT!" It was the last he could take. Everything was all too much, and he found himself giving into her completely. Another shudder of his legs while she grasped his ankles, another few pumps later of himself, and he was done for. The length throbbed in his hand while he felt the muscles in his rear end clamp on the member, pushing him to orgasm for the second time this evening. It was unusual for Qrow to see this much seed he was releasing, and all over his stomach and chest, no less! It truly was a shameful sight. But by this point, he'd completely transcended the boundaries of shame.

Of course, Winter fell silent when she saw the white fluid splattering all over his body, looking down upon him with mingling awe and satisfaction. That was something she never thought she would see the normally-proud man do, but it was most definitely satisfying. Her pace began to slow gradually, but she didn't come to a stop entirely; it was too fun to resist.

Gradually, the moaning was beginning to get slower, quieter, and more strained. His pumping slowed to a stop, and he had to grasp the bedsheets instead. Two was more than enough for one evening, especially in this quick succession. With that in mind, he tried to push himself backward off the member himself, managing to pant a response.

"T-that'll do… M-mare's had enough."

Chuckling quietly to herself, Winter gave one good, hard, final thrust just to get a rise out of him.

"NNNN!" Amusingly, that firm push had pumped a little more seed out of him, only just dotting his abdomen. But he wouldn't let that continue for any longer. "Hey, knock it off, I'm gettin' sore here."

"Party pooper." But the next thing she said was, "I'm going to try to pull out slow and smooth. Are you ready?"

After grasping the sheets to brace himself, he nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be." Nodding her understanding, she drew back and out of him in one fluid motion, an inch at a time. One last shaky moan, and she was free. Already he could feel his muscles beginning to tighten up again, and already there was an odd feeling of emptiness now that she'd gone. Not that he would be asking her to put things back in any time soon.

"So…" He just began to catch his breath again. "This doesn't mean I'm gay now, does it?"

"Perhaps a little, but no more than I am." Her shoulder shrugged as she rubbed up and down his hip once his legs were lying flat again. "And as I keep insisting, I'm straight with some small amount of leeway. It's not an either-or."

"Yeah, guess so." Finally, he gazed down at his chest. Splattered with his own juices, more than he had ever thought he alone was capable of. "Jesus! And I just showered, too!"

"No reason we shouldn't both shower now," she sighed, looking down at the implement she had taken him with. "After taking care of this, I might want to. No offense."

"Hey, you're the one that decided fucking me with a strap on was a good idea! I just wanted fingers!"

Half way through his sentence however, there was a repeated buzzing sound coming from Winter's jacket pocket. It was too late in the day to possibly be a client, and her father said he wouldn't bother her. Who could it be? Stripping off her gloves as fast as she could, so they would be inside-out and not get on anything, she tossed them onto the bed and snatched up her phone to see who it was. When she saw Yang's number, her eyebrows rose as she answered it.

"This is Winter."

"Hey! It's me! Um… Y-y'know how you said to call if anything changed?" Yang was sounding a lot more flustered than normal, talking quickly and stammering the odd word. From the background noise, it sounded as though she was driving.

"Yes?" she put in. "So I take it something has-"

"DON'T TALK ON THE PHONE AND DRIVE AT THE SAME TIME, YOU IMBECILE!" a screeching voice ordered a little further away from the microphone. "WERE YOU RAISED IN THE WOODS?!"

"WELL I COULD HARDLY SET UP THE HANDS-FUCKING-FREE RIGHT NOW, COULD I?! DO YOU WANT FAMILY THERE OR NOT?!"

The yelling was even heard by Qrow, who had just been about to clean himself up with some tissues when he recognised Yang's voice. Stopping for a moment, he listened in.

"Sorry, didn't mean to yell, but yeah! You could say that; I think from the yelling she's in labour!"

"Oh? OH!" Completely stunned by this development, Winter's hand pressed against her face, leaving a very light powdering from the latex glove. "God, this is- SHIT! Shit, does it have to happen NOW?!"

"What? What is it?" Qrow had whispered to ask, still not even close to being clean just yet. He'd been too busy trying to listen to one half of the conversation.

"I know, why couldn't Weiss have held it in for another week like she was suppos-" That thought was beginning to trail off for a short moment. "I'm joking, Winter said something about the timi-"

"IF YOU WANNA PUSH THIS BABY OUT YOUR FUCKING DICKHOLE, BE MY GUEST!"

"Eh heh," Winter said in response to her sister's moaning. "Just… hold on as best you can. Which hospital are you going toward?"

"Vanderbilt. That seemed the best one and it's closest. And will you please STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME, I'M TRYING MY BEST!"

"Hospital? Wait… are you kidding me?!" Qrow had finally caught on, sitting himself upright at last and actually making more of an effort to clean himself up this time. No doubt Winter would want to leave straight away, and he hadn't even got a fresh pair of clothes ready!

"And I'm wearing THIS!" Winter shouted, gesturing down at her pelvis. Next second, her good sense had come back to her and she told Yang, "I m-mean, I'll be there as soon as I can! Just take care of my baby sister! I trust you!"

"GO FASTER! Run that red light!"

"I ALREADY RAN THREE! O-okay, later!"

It wasn't exactly the most reassuring way to leave a conversation, but there were obviously other things on Yang's mind right now. Just as there were Qrow and Winter's. They would need to skip their shower, and definitely rush the clean-up. Grabbing yet more tissues, Qrow continued to clear away the vast amounts on his chest. "She's a couple weeks early, ain't she?!"

"Tell that to the baby!" Winter grunted, dashing into the bathroom. The only sensible thing in her mind at that moment was to take the strap-on off in there and leave it in the sink, where she could also wash her hands afterward.

Collecting a random shirt from the dirty laundry pile, Qrow took a quick moment to sniff at the pit area. No real stench, it would do. He was hardly going to put on a spotless shirt when he was still barely cleaned. Forcing it over his shoulders and quickly grabbing some underwear and pants, he was trying to rush as quick as possible to get ready.

"Can't she hold it off or something? Clamp her legs together?"

From the bathroom, he could hear a near-outraged, "Don't you know anything about biology?! She can, but not for very long before her body decides she's being stupid and pushes it out anyway!"

"Well how am I supposed to know that?! It thought it was like takin’ a… y'know what? I'm not even gonna finish that." Quickly forcing on a pair of socks, he was more or less finished. "Mind giving me a lift, too? I'm still over the legal limit. Didn’t think I’d need to drive tonight."

"Of course. We'll just… say I picked you up on the way there." Just then, she returned, sans one strap-on and looking much the same as she had when arriving, though a little worse for wear. "Oh, and… try not to be too startled when the inevitable happens."

"And what inevitable is that?" he asked, hurriedly walking to the front door to thrust his shoes on and collect his house keys.

As she passed him to open the door for him, given that he was still struggling into his shoes, she muttered two words under her breath: "Lube fart."

"Lu- oh come on, you gotta be kidding me! Way to make me feel super gay." Finally finished, he quickly dashed out the door, waiting for her to follow first before he locked it and they could get on their way.

"Aww, listen to her; she's so angry about the lube fart!" Winter cackled as they locked up and raced down the hallway. Undignified though it was, she would continue to laugh about lube farts all the way there.

#black tie #white noise #Qrowin #qrow x winter #rwby fanfiction #rwby smut #rwbyremnants #nsfw-Text

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antho-logy · 4 years

Photo

Hi Miles,

I understand that you moved around a bit in your younger years; being born in South Australia before heading north-east to Ballina and Brisbane. Did the consistent moving around allow you to pick up new musical influences on the road or did your musical taste and style grow in a more insular way? I’ve never been to Brisbane - but I imagine as a young lad with budding interests in punk and alternative rock that it would have been hard not to be impacted by bands like The Saints and The Go-Betweens, especially if one was living in the place where both bands (and other contemporaries) first cut their teeth.

Miles: My family brought me up on a good mix of music. My grandparents were always playing classical music, real dramatic stuff. Then my mum and dad listened to heaps of 60's and 70’s bands like the Beatles, Bowie, Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane etc. Mum ran away from home when she wasn’t allowed to go see the Beatles in 64’. My brother also introduced me to loads of interesting stuff ranging from Britpop to Sebadoh to Dr Octagon. We both were into skateboarding BIGTIME and skate videos were always a rich source for music too. I’d say my time in Brisbane introduced me to more of the lesser known punk type stuff and going to see live local bands. Like you say, Brisbane has a good history with punk music and it was for sure evident in the music scene there. Go-Betweens records were always spinning at mates’ houses. I lived on Petrie Terrace in Paddington real close to the “Saints house” and every time I'd pass I would stare at it like it had magic powers or something.

Turning now to your lyrics, in particular those of a satirical nature found in songs like 'Photo Op', 'Work/Life, Gym Etc', and a newish one - that (as far I know) hasn't been released - which mentions Clive Palmer in some capacity (I've only ever seen it live and whilst pissed so my memory of what the lyrics specifically entail is hazy to say the least), do you feel you have a responsibility to include your take on sociopolitical issues in your songs? Especially in a world that is seemingly so fucked? Or is this something that just comes naturally to you - perhaps subconsciously informed by the music you listen to? (there are definitely some clear similarities between your words and that of The Fall's Mark E Smith).

Miles: I'm not sure I feel a responsibility to do so. I think it’s more of an outlet to life's frustrations and oddities. I think that with all of the world's current skullfuckery comes a certain amount of hopelessness and feeling powerless. I’ve tried writing love songs or more positive stuff but I'm not very good at it. I’m more interested in creating tension in music not good vibes. There are admittedly similarities and it's no secret I’m a huge fan of the Fall. I think I was initially drawn to MES because he was singing about stuff I was interested in, like history and taking the piss. I've been an avid reader of history books since I was a kid and have watched every bloody war film and doco out there and have always been a fan of taking the piss. I write about what I know over the top of odd sounding guitar music, which at times can be pretty Fall-esque.

Now, this question is one from a place of curiosity based on my observations, as opposed to criticism (as you know I am a big fan of The Shifters), but I have noticed that your sound and that of The Shifters has remained pretty consistent throughout your discography. Do you have any aspirations of taking the sound of The Shifters in a different direction whilst still maintaining the band's musical identity? Or have you considered taking part in the prevailing trend of Melbourne musos seemingly needing to play in a dozen bands at once? Are there other creative avenues that you think you could be expressing yourself through that are limited by The Shifters' already established sound? Again, I love the band's sound as it is, so if it never changes I think myself and fellow punters will cope.

Miles: Well I doubt we will be doing any classical rap/jazz or metal fusion records anytime soon. I think the next album will be weirder. All the new demos for it sound like they could be used in a sneaky spy film or something, which I’m diggin’. SPYTONES. It’s a hot new Melbourne genre. HA! I don’t feel the need to be in other bands really. The Shifters scratches my musical itch. We write a lot more music than what's on the records. I’m always recording music at home that only some friends and the band hear. I even did a Cher rendition a while ago! One day I might make a cassette or something of some it. Sometimes I like my home versions of songs more than when the band do them.

This is a bit of a cop out, but I remember that in our chat outside the Curtin you were saying something about the Melbourne music scene, and that it made more money for the city than the footy? Or was it all sports combined? Or have I made this up? If you remember what I'm talking about, please elaborate - 'cause while I can't really remember the conversation, I do recall it being very interesting.

Miles: I was reciting some stats to you that I read somewhere (I think it was the ABC) about the AFL grand final weekend and how live music for that weekend generated more money for Melbourne than the football did. I'm not totally sure how valid the source was though but it's pretty interesting if true.

Is the album title a reference to Tony Robinson's character in Blackadder?

Miles: It sure is. We were recording with Al Montford at his place discussing titles. We were enjoying throwing around ones similar to it like The Shifters are Bored Stiff, or The Shifters aren't Home as we just did that 7” called The Shifters Just Sat Down, then Al suggested Have a Cunning Plan, and I thought it was hilarious and we rolled with it. I LOVE Blackadder.

As I mentioned, there are quite a few songs in your live set that are yet to be released. Naturally, I must ask when will we receive the gift of new music from The Shifters?

Miles: We have a new 7” coming out in the new year. I don’t think I can say by who yet but it’s being announced really soon. There’s also a live in France cassette coming out at some stage and we are busy writing stuff for a new LP next year!

Also, please speak to whoever you gotta speak to about putting the 2018 demo tape on Spotify. It slaps!

Miles: Hahaha. Yes, will do. That’s another job on the to-do list. To put all the records on Spotify and generally try a bit harder in the admin department as I'm sure we are the laziest band in town when it comes to self-promotion and general organisation. We’ve a manager/minder type kind soul taking over all that side of things really soon as I'm hopeless at it all.

Cheers Miles and I look forward to whatever’s next for The Shifters.

Miles: Thanks for having me Anthony.

#theshifters #melbourne

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lu-undy · 3 years

Text

Chapter 90 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"We're out with Micky."

"Oh, alright, be safe out there, eh?" Mike answered from his sofa, while watching the television.

"Yeah, I'll be home later, he'll drop me."

"Fair enough, have fun and watch out for your Mum, Micky."

"Yeah, will do… Uh, see ya, Dad."

Mundy raised his eyes to his father from the door and sighed. This might be the last time he was allowed in his parents' house…

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Love ya."

Mundy couldn't see it, but Mike's eyebrows jumped.

"Love ya too, son." He unglued his eyes from the screen and turned to look at Mundy and Caroline at the door. "You be a good boy and take care of your mum, yeah?"

"Yeah, don't worry."

They exchanged a smile and Mundy stepped out of the house. He exhaled a breath he didn't know he had been holding, and his shoulders sank.

"You ok, Micky?" Caroline's higher pitched voice tickled his ears and made him land back to reality.

"Yeah… Let's get to the van."

Caroline followed Mundy and hopped in the van that was parked a few meters away. They both fastened their seatbelts and Mundy started the engine.

"Is your house far from here?" Caroline asked.

"Nah, it's a fifteen minute drive, something like that."

"Ah, alright."

Caroline paid attention through the whole journey and was surprised to see that Mundy stopped and parked in the city centre.

"You live around here?"

"Yeah, that black door, that's the place." Mundy pointed and Caroline followed the direction he showed.

"Oh…"

They hopped off and Caroline followed her son to the door. Mundy took his keys out and unlocked it. As soon as he pushed it open, a white cloud of fluff and her black companion meowed repeatedly and trotted to Caroline and him.

"Hey, babies… Mum, welcome home."

"Ooh…"

They both stepped in and while Mundy shut the door, Caroline's head was moving left and right, scanning the floor, the walls, the ceiling and the furniture.

"Here, gimme your jacket and go ahead, have a look."

"Thank you Micky."

"Meow…!"

"Pearl, baby, go take Soot and play with him, Grandma and I need to talk, yeah?" He crouched down to scratch their heads and the cats left their side.

"Very beautiful house you have…"

"That's all Lu'." Mundy started and came close to his mother to hold her hand and lead her to the living room. "When we got the house, it was practically empty. He did all the decoratin', he chose the furniture and stuff. He's good at it."

"You didn't take part in that?"

"He always asks me before buyin' something, but I just trust him. Also, uh, see that corridor with the stairs? It needed a new layer of paint and I did that. I do all the heavy stuff, he does the pretty stuff."

"Oh, I see…"

"And this here, it's the kitchen."

"Ooh! Very colourful!" She said.

"Yeah, again, it's all Lu', I just put a fresh layer of light blue on the walls and white on the ceiling. And then, he bought all the kitchenware."

"D'you have a garden?"

"Nah, we don't."

"Ah, makes sense, you're bang on in the centre…! I guess the rent is expensive, eh?" Caroline asked.

"Uh… Mum…?"

"Yeah?"

Mundy stopped walking and Caroline turned to him.

"What is it?"

"We… Uh… We're not payin' rent…"

"What? You don't have the money for it? How late are you?"

"No, no, Mum, it's not that… It's uh… W-we actually bought this house."

Caroline's eyebrows jumped behind her glasses.

"You… bought it?"

"Yeah, with Lu's money… Uh, y'know what? Let me make some tea and we can sit down and I explain everything, yeah?"

"Alright." Caroline frowned slightly. So she had been right, huh? Lucien did have heaps of money…

Mundy got busy in the kitchen.

"Let me help you, Micky…"

"Nah, you're the guest here, Mum."

"I'm your mum, Micky, I'm not a guest!"

"Fine…"

They put together a kettle and in no time a tray was ready with tea, milk and sugar.

"Here, try these biscuits." Mundy put a pack on the tray.

"What are they?" Caroline asked.

Mundy took the tray and headed for the living room, followed by his mother.

"They're called something-something, I can't remember the name in French but it means 'cat's tongue'."

"Oh, I guess Lucien showed them to you?"

They both sat on the sofa and Mundy put the tray on the coffee table.

"Yeah, he loves them with his coffee, but they work well with tea too." Mundy answered as he started to serve his mother and himself. "Here, milk but no sugar, yeah?"

"Yeah, thank you sweetie."

They exchanged a smile.

"So tell me about the house." Caroline asked.

"Right… Mum, you were right, Lu' is… uh… very well-off."

She nodded to herself proudly.

"We bought the house with some of his money because… Uh… To be honest, he surprised me with it."

Caroline frowned.

"One day, he brought me here and made me visit it. I didn't really know why. You should've seen it back then, there was nothing in it, absolutely nothing! But then he said that it could be ours if I liked it too."

"Ours?" Caroline repeated.

"Mum, there's heaps of things that we didn't tell you because… I didn't want to worry you or Dad and I wanted to just… y'know, get along well with you. And now that Dad sees that I've fixed my life, I don't want to tell him how or why."

Mundy paused and put his cup of tea back on the tray. He wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers.

"Tell me, Micky…"

"I'll try." He took a deep breath. "Here's the thing, uh… I don't know where to start… Hold on…"

Caroline put her cup back on the tray and put her hand on Mundy's.

"Start at the beginning." She said.

"Y-yeah but… You gotta promise."

"I swore I won't tell your dad a thing."

"N-no, you gotta promise to… to still talk to me… after I tell you the truth…" He lowered his head. "Mum, please…?"

"Why wouldn't I? You told us you killed a man, but you're still my baby, you're still the same baby Micky that I held in my arms many, many years ago." She put her hand on Mundy's cheek and gently brushed it.

"Please, Mum, promise."

"I promise." Caroline said, thinking that there wasn't much left to be worse than actually killing a man.

"Right." Mundy raised his head again. "Here's the true story of Lu' and me then." He cleared his throat. "Back when I was searching for Johnson's alligators, I had a lead that pointed to the Queen Victoria, y'know, the posh restaurant."

"Yeah, I know it."

"Well I went there and uh… Pff, it was ridiculous. I put on the only suit I had, the black one that I had for your funeral. I couldn't pay for food so I got their cheapest dessert, a chocolate cake. I sat there and was observing people, trying to find the bloke I was after, and uh…"

"And?"

"And that's where I saw Lu' again, but I didn't know it was him, I didn't realise."

"Wait, this was before you found the alligators, right?"

"Yeah. I saw Lu' on the stage there, singin' and playin' the piano…" Mundy had dreamy eyes and a smile on his lips. "He sang a song about solitude. It was in French but… I don't know, I kinda got the idea of the song even if I understood nothing of what he was blabberin' about."

Caroline nodded.

"I realised that I liked it there. It was posh and filled with filthy rich people, but I liked listenin' to him. So I came back a few times… Oh, hold on-!"

Mundy jumped out of the sofa and went to one of the shelves in front of them. He opened a book and retrieved a sheet of paper.

"I even wrote to him…" He showed his mother the letter he had addressed to Lucien back then. "And I learnt that letters like these, he was receivin' heaps of them. Sheilas were falling like flies for him, understandably so. He was singin' like he meant it, and he was dressed so nice… Looked like he was born wearin' suits, like his tie wasn't strangling him like mine was…"

Caroline smiled.

"It is true that he is good looking and he has very good clothing taste, elegant and all."

"Yeah, he does…" Mundy blinked and landed back on Earth. "But yeah, I took that habit of goin' there, spending my last bits of money on a chocolate cake that was very good, yeah, but I couldn't care less about it. And then…"

"Yeah?"

"Then… Then there was the alligators' thing where I met Lu', not knowing that he was the same person as that singer, and then we spent our time arguin' and fightin' over who would get Duchemin first…" Mundy sighed. "Until the masquerade ball."

"The what now?" Caroline asked, surprised.

"Duchemin organised a ball with costumes and he invited Lu', the singer. Lucien got me a costume and we went there dressed like rich people from two hundred years ago… It was ridiculous, Mum, but it got us closer to the man and I actually talked to him…!" Mundy opened wide eyes. "Actually, he talked to me, and I got so confused, I wanted to kill him then and there but I couldn't, the place was full of his goons…!"

"What did you do?"

"Me? Nothing… I couldn't do anything. I stayed there, like an idiot, paralysed. It would have all gone to shit if Lu' hadn't been there. He talked to the guy, like small talk and all, and when we got alone, he calmed me down."

Caroline smiled tenderly.

"Then, Duchemin asked Lu' to sing something, but I was convinced this Lu' wasn't the singer, so I panicked! If Duchemin learnt that we had tricked him, we were good as dead! But Lu' went anyway and sang something and that's when I got it… Him and the singer were one and the same…!"

"Hold on, you didn't see that it was him?"

"When he was singin', he was wearing nicer clothes. But when we were out there tryin' to get Duchemin, he was wearin' uh… What was he calling it…? Uh, bala-balala...thingy? It's a mask basically, so I never saw his face entirely when we were workin' together. But then he sang and I recognised the voice and the manners and everything… I wanted to beat him up for lying to me, but I couldn't make a scene."

"So what did you do?"

"We went back to town and in the middle of the desert, on the road, I asked him to stop his car and then I beat him up."

"Micky!"

"I did…"

"You… beat him up?!" Caroline exclaimed, astonished.

"Y-yeah. I beat him up and he didn't fight back. I beat him up but it wasn't even the first time. But that time, he let me knock him out completely. I carried him to the Doc' and stayed with him all night, couldn't sleep."

"Micky… Since when did you get so violent?"

"Since you and Dad were dead and nothin' made sense, everything was unfair." He frowned. "After that, I got a message from Maurice telling me that Lu' might have… gone."

"Gone? What d'you mean?"

"I didn't know what he meant either, so I ran to his hotel and when I got to his door, I heard Pearl cryin' on the other side of it. I broke in and -"

"You broke in?"

"Yeah, and I found Lu'..." Mundy got shivers and wiggled his shoulders to shake them away. "For a second I thought…"

Caroline hugged him and brushed his back.

"In your own time, sweetie…"

Mundy took a deep breath.

"He was in his bath, fully clothed… He had an empty bottle of wine in his hand and… His eyes were closed."

"Oh, dear…"

Mundy nodded.

"I got him out and dried him out before trying to put dry clothes on him. I slapped him on the face, Pearl curled up next to him to warm him up, his lips were blue… And finally he woke up."

"Whew…!" Caroline exhaled the breath she had been holding and put a hand on her chest.

"Yeah, he woke up but was hungover like hell. I brought him water and some sugar while he talked nonsense… I asked him if he wanted some food or somethin' and he said he was hungry. So I went to the kitchen and cooked whatever I could find while he put on some more clothes."

Caroline nodded to show she was following.

"A few minutes later, he popped in, in the kitchen, and he… uh… he was still weak so he, uh, c-clung to me, I mean, just cause he couldn't hold himself up, eh?" Mundy blushed and his mother smiled.

"We had dinner together and uh… I just made sure he could… Y'know… Go to bed safe and stuff…"

"Yeah, I get it."

"Then I went back to the van and drove away. After that, I tried to get Duchemin on my own. I went to his palace and hunted him down."

"Yeah, I remember you told us about that." Caroline nodded.

"But I didn't tell you that the only reason I survived this, is Lucien. He came after me, riskin' his skin as much as I was foolishly riskin' mine, and he got me out of there. He drove me to the Doc' and this time, he stayed with me all night."

"Why did you go on your own?"

"Cause he had Pearl to live for. I had nothin', no one." Mundy raised his hands before they landed on his lap again. "Who cared who I was, what I wanted, what I was? No one! You weren't there anymore and I had nothing left!"

Caroline softened and shook her head, the pinching she felt in her heart showed on her face. She put her hand on Mundy's again and brushed it slowly.

"When I woke up, I was determined to go back and try again."

"But you nearly got killed?"

"Who cared?!" He said, his lagoon, eager eyes riveted on his mother's hazel, soft ones.

"I…" Words failed her and Mundy sighed before a gentle smile appeared on his lips.

"He had Pearl and uh… There was a person… He-he fancied someone, I knew that much. And uh, I thought whoever that might be, they'd fancy him back, no doubt about that, right?"

"Oh."

"Yeah, so I thought to myself, well, if someone has to go kill Duchemin and then die, let it be me cause uh… I-I…" The muscles of his mouth wanted to say it but his head hit a bug repeatedly, like a wall. "I was sure that the uh… the person that… I mean…" He closed his eyes and scratched his head and his cheek nervously. "I-I mean… The-the…"

"You were in love with someone too?" Caroline's eyes snapped wide and Mundy hid his face in his hands. "Micky…" She brushed his back. "I know we never talked about these things but… Don't be shy, eh? I'm your Mum, baby, I love you…"

"No, Mum, you don't get it…" His muffled voice answered as his hands still covered the shame of the truth. "I fancied someone but… I was sure they didn't like me back…"

"Oh, Micky… Look, it's a heartbreak, it happens, it hurts, yeah, but it’s fine… If it didn't work out, that means she wasn't the right one." Caroline tapped his back gently and leaned on his arm.

"Mum, I…" He sighed. "I can't bloody say it. I know the words, I wanna say them, but I can't."

"Why?"

"Because… I'm sorry, Mum!" Mundy burst into sobs. "I'm so sorry… I wish I wasn't like that, I wish I was born differently, I wish I-"

"Shhh… There, there, baby, I've got you." Caroline hugged him and he sobbed against her chest.

"You and Dad didn't raise me like that, you… I… I'm sorry…! I'm so bloody sorry…!"

"What are you talkin' about, Micky?"

Mundy's tears started to drench his mother's blouse.

"I swear, Mum, I swear I didn't do any harm to anyone, we're quiet and lead a good an honest life, Mum, I swear that we're good people, we don't look for trouble, we lead a calm life, we're just livin' normally, Mum…!"

"We? You mean Lucien and you? Yeah, I know that you're not hurtin' anyone, what do you mean?"

Mundy calmed his hitched breath and wiped his face with his sleeves. His hair was a mess and his eyes were red and slightly swollen.

"We… Lu' and me… W-we live together."

"Yeah, I know…?" Caroline failed to understand.

"No, no, you don't get it." Mundy sniffled and took a deep breath before he took both of his mother's hands in his. His palms were sweaty, his nerves were buzzing and hurting everywhere. "We live together…!"

"Yeah, Micky, I know, you already said. What is it? Why did you cry? Why apologise?"

"Mum! You… Ugh… C'mere…"

Mundy stood up and pulled his mother by the hand. They climbed up the stairs.

"Meow?" Perle and Soot peeked out of their room and Caroline stopped sharp.

"Oh, woah, hold on, Micky…" She pushed the door and her jaw dropped. "Is that your room…?"

"It's Soot and Pearl's room." He answered.

"Did you… build all that?"

He smiled as his mother looked at the shelves on the wall, the ropes and other installations that Mundy had built for his cats. They were all painted with different colours, which brought a vibrant atmosphere in the room.

"Oh, look at their bed…!" Caroline pointed at the little fluffy bed on which Soot was still asleep.

"Meow…" Perle trotted to her husband and lay next to him. She bathed him and the black cat opened his eyes before yawning.

"You really love them, eh?" She said.

"Mum, these cats are my babies. I raised them, I fed them, washed them…"

"I can see that, eh. They obey you like they understand your words… Anyway, what is it you wanted to show me?" She asked.

He took her hand and went through the corridor before he stopped in front of a door. Mundy turned to his mother and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Mum, before I open this door, you really swear that you're not gonna tell Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I swore and I swear again."

Perle and Soot trotted to them and brushed themselves on Mundy's legs while meowing repeatedly.

Mundy took a deep breath and turned to the door. He put his hand on the handle and pushed it down.

"What is it? Your room?"

Mundy pushed the door open and let his mother in.

"Oh, yeah, that's your room. Did Lucien decorate it too? I don't see you like the flower in a vase kind of man…" Caroline stepped in and her eyes directly caught the flower vase on the night tables. "And a big, double bed you have, eh?"

The cats jumped on the bed and lay on it, bathing each other.

Caroline's eyes went to the wooden suit valet stand.

"You wear suits now?" She went closer to it and looked at the brand. "And it's a Lemercier too…!"

"N-no, that's not mine." Mundy was at the door, incapable of stepping in his own room as if it was forbidden somehow. He fidgeted with his fingers while his knees were wobbling awkwardly beneath him.

"It's Lucien's? What is it doing in your room? Oh…" Caroline went to the night table and saw on each one, a framed picture was resting. She took one in her hand and adjusted her glasses before inspecting it. Mundy closed his eyes and hid his face in his hands.

"Micky…? You sure are very good friends with Lucien, eh…? You keep pictures of both of you next to your bed? And what's this one? Oh…"

It was a picture of Lucien and Mundy hugging each other, on the day that the house was officially made theirs.

"I didn't take you for the huggin' type, Micky…"

Mundy's whole body was boiling, bubbling on the inside and burning in an uncomfortable way. The clock was ticking and he knew that his mother would understand any second now.

"And the bed sheets… They're silk!"

"L-Lu' likes them…"

"So this is Lucien's room? Why did you take me here?"

"N-no." Mundy couldn't move. His heels were anchored in the floor and his legs were threatening to give up. "Go look… in the… cupboard."

Caroline put the framed picture back on the night table and looked at her son.

"You're shakin', Micky. Are you alright?"

He nodded as much as he could.

"Just… go, please."

Caroline frowned and did as she was told. She went to the wardrobe and opened it. Half of it was filled with suits neatly hanging and the other half was simple polo shirts and trousers.

"He wears very diverse stuff, eh?"

Mundy took the few steps that separated him from his mother and pointed at the suits.

"That's… his."

"Yeah?"

His index moved to the polo shirts.

"That's… mine."

"Why would you both put your clothes in the same wardrobe?" She raised a curious eyebrow.

Mundy moved to the bed. He pointed at Lucien's side, where Perle was lying.

"His." And then at Soot's side. "Mine."

"I know Soot is yours and Pearl is his-"

"No!" He exclaimed and the cats moved out of the bed. He pointed again. "His side… Mine…" He turned tearful eyes to his mother. "The bed is… ours…"

Caroline's eyebrows arched high up and Mundy saw it. He saw the precise moment that she saw the truth. Her eyes went to Lucien's suit, then the framed pictures, the wardrobe and finally, the bed.

"Mum… We live together."

Her jaw dropped and silence fell.

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #SBT

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i-like-writting-sometimes · 5 years

Text

Yesterday (24th of June 2019), I went to bed and, as I sometimes do, I opened the YouTube app to listen to music before going to sleep – I don’t have any downloaded music in my phone because of lack of space so, yeah, I do that. As usual, I scrolled down to see if there was any video or music that interested me at the time, and I found a video named “50 Minutes to Save the World”.

Now, I’ve always been interested in Ambiental issues, and always had some conscience about pollution since I was a kid – the kindergarten I went to made/makes (it’s still running and still conscious of the global issue) sure every kid that went there was educated about global warming, pollution and ways to recycle and reuse stuff.

My grandmother even told me – and I have no memory of this, that’s how young I was at the time – that, once, me and my family were at a café and a man ordered a coffee. In Portugal, where I live, when you ask for a coffee, the waitresses give you a tiny paper bag with sugar so you can add it if you want. Now, my grandmother tells me that, right when I see the man throwing the paper bag to the floor after using it, I pointed to him and said really loud “You don’t do that!!”. With the man looking at me, my mother made me quiet down, afraid that he would get angry or something, but my grandmother noticed that he was very embarrassed instead and ended up picking the paper bag from the floor.

I grew up still worried and conscious about pollution. At the age of what? 7? 8? I remembered being with my dad, in the car, and telling him how idiot the human race could be, as it was killing itself by polluting, because that would increase the global warming and ended up affecting us too. At the age of 11/12 I joined the Ecology Club and, as long as I went to that school, I went to almost every meeting, even going to events with my colleagues (I had no notion of how bad ass that was at my time, actually. I wish the high-school I went to had more publicity for the many clubs it supposedly has).

I never stopped caring about the planet, even when all my colleagues would throw trash to the floor claiming they were “giving a job to the street cleaners”. Hell, I yelled at a friend for throwing trash to the floor and made him pick it up and put it to the plastic bin. Even when nobody around me seemed to care at least as much as I do, I never stopped caring.

Could I do more? Yes, absolutely, and I wish I could simply correct all the things that affect the world in a negative way just with a snap, with one radical change, but the truth is that I don’t have enough capital to do that. Plastic free stuff are still a bit expensive to my family, and seems a bit hard to find at a price that we can afford; and I can’t donate to big organizations because 1) I have trust issues with money, I barely trust myself, honestly; and 2) I usually prefer to have that money so I can help my family with some other things.

But that doesn’t stop me. It’s just like in the movie “The Princess and the Frog” – you gotta work for it to come true, the wish doesn’t come true for itself. And I’m taking baby steps – I bought my own bamboo toothbrush and straws, and I’m planning meals to eat more vegetables so my body will accept a vegetarian eating habit in a less radical and, (in my point of view), more healthy way, giving me time to learn about what I can eat, and how to manage the nutrients and stuff. And I’m getting more conscious about what I consume every day.

And, on top of all that, I’m finally surrounded with people who also care about these things! All my friends are conscious, and although some are more negative than me, we all are trying to take baby steps and change the world. My best friend just bought her metal straws, and another is going to buy her own bamboo toothbrush. We all have our own reusable water bottles and share information about products and ways to recycle and reuse stuff with each other – I’m really proud of them, as you can see, and also proud of me for surrounding myself with these people.

Yet, I know it’s not enough, there’s a lot of stuff I need to change as an individual, and, mostly, actions that need to be made by a collective group. It’s my wish that my actions, and mostly my ideas, will affect society and make the world a better place.

The thing is, I still have a lot of things to learn about this situation.

Even I, who has always cared about the future, the planet and the life in it, who does not want to go to Mars or any place out of this Earth to live, still am not educated enough to have practical ideas to propose to the government, nor do I understand how politics work (I feel like I’m a peasant from medieval times, basically). There’s still people and organizations’ work I need to investigate, crafts that I need to discover and share with my friends, local shops I need to go and consume, propositions and ideas to be written down and discussed and very little time.

So little time, it fucking scares me – I’m not ok, all this situation gives me stress on a daily basis. I was in a Drawing class, me and my friends discussing global warming, when one of them tells me that no matter how many trees we plant they won’t be enough to recover from the damage of the ozone layer. I physically froze, right there. I looked at him in the eyes and, just like I was a child again, I asked him “Really?”. And he confirmed it. I nearly cried in front of my friends because of how hopeless I felt in that moment, while they kept talking and eventually changed topic. I went home after that class completely devastated, depressed.

It took me a few hours to recompose myself and convince me that there were still other things that could be done. I thought that I could still do it in other ways, and still keep that hope with me, every single day.

After watching Amir Zakeri’s video, I felt it physically. My head started hurting, and all I could think was that there was still the possibility of the biggest fear of my 9 years old me coming true: world destruction/world’s ending – and I don’t want that to happen, neither does anybody.

So, hopefully Amir Zakeri didn’t make a video form nothing and neither did I shared it and write all this for nothing! I hope that after reading this, you too will be more aware of what’s happening and starting take baby steps like me. There is a lot of things that can be done!

Starting now, you can share the video that I shared, or this text, or even other kinds of media that will educate you about this issue. Even if you can’t do everything that there is to be done, there are some other people who can, but maybe don’t know about it. So, by sharing information, the possibilities it will reach them, and they will help in ways that you understandably can’t, rise. The more people who know, the more people will start taking actions and choices to help make the world a better place, making easier that others will too!

Also, you should search for activists and organizations and try to support their work in any way possible! The video of Amir Zakeri makes many references about organisations that are working on restoring and protecting the coral reefs. Search them, follow them in your social media platforms and soon, thanks to an algorithm, more accounts of other similar organisations and information on the topic of coral reefs and ecology will start to appear on your explore page.

Learn from whatever you find and start acting! Life is about experiences and learning from that same experiences so you can be better! Start by trying to do small things and slowly you will grow to be affecting the world in a positive way. If many individuals around the world start to do small changes, if we gather all the work of these people it will make one big difference. We don’t need people to have a perfect zero-waste lifestyle, we need everyone, or at least a hell lot of people, to have an imperfect one.

So, start acting in any way you can, and never think that everybody already knows about this. People may have an idea, but it’s only the tip of the iceberg, there’s always more to learn. But also, don’t be mean to people who don’t know/understand this threat. Instead, teach them about it, and they may join you in this cause! I, myself still have a LOT to learn, a LOT of activists to search for (I barely know one or two), but I’m still trying to do the best I can.

#50 minutes to save the world #amir zakeri #trying to make the world a better place #ecology #recycling #global warming #pollution #coral reef #environmental activism #enviroment #learning #save marine life #save the bees #save the forests #im trying to act for once #im sorry i don't know what else to do

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scullyy · 5 years

Text

Days With You / Chapter Four

Title: Days With You / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 3091

Summary: As the Ericson gang try to readjust to the start of their university life, Louis and Clementine spend their time between classes together and this time he has a surprise in store.

A/N: Eek sorry for the wait, I've had a lot on my plate lately. Enjoy :))

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Clementine slammed her hand against the raging alarm clock beside her ear, a louder groan escaping her. The thin curtain did nothing to hide away the beaming sun, however, Clem didn't have the energy to appreciate the morning rays just yet.

"Remind me why I joined an early morning class," Violet mumbled from above, the top bunk creaked as she tossed and turned. "You think the professor will notice if I don't show up?" She threw a leg over the side of her bed, flinching at the chilly air.

"No, but you won't hear the end of it from Brody," Clementine pulled herself out of the warm bed, her feet tingling from the cold floor. She reached out for her favourite (and only) denim jacket and flung it over her shoulder. "You ready for the day?"

Violet hopped off her bunk and wandered to her side of the closet. "I never am and never will be," Her section was an absolute mess compared to Clem's, jackets and shirts were all piled together into a leaning tower of fabric. "And I have to sit with Brody for two hours hearing all about how much she wants to go to the beach. As if we have the time for that now."

"Says the girl who wants to go to the Grand Canyon."

Violet threw a sock at Clem. "We've never been to the Grand Canyon before! It might be fun if we had the money."

Clementine eagerly sculled down the rest of her water, her body jolting awake in response. "We all know Louis does." She bopped along to the tune playing over her radio as both girls dressed for the day. Clem adorned her signature hat as Violet placed her pin over her lilac sweater.

"Let's kick some ass." The blonde girl bumped fists with her best friend, if she could fake enough energy to get through class she could get through anything.

"Too tired to kick any more ass," Violet threw her to-go coffee cup in the bin, it wasn't enough to prepare her for the class she had to suffer through. Choosing a 9 am lecture was a terrible decision on her part. "Never listen to Brody ever again." She yawned, stretching her arms out to the sky. It wasn't so bad, Louis and Marlon were in the same boat and did make for some good company...sometimes. Violet caught Louis's eye as she wandered to their table in the courtyard. He waved at her with so much glee it almost made her sick. How could he be so chipper so early?

As she walked closer their mumbled conversation turned into actual words. "And they were roommates."

Louis gasped. "Oh my god, they were roommates."

"What are you two crumbs talking about?" Violet threw herself onto the spare chair beside Marlon, not bothered to hide her distaste at his hair. It somehow seemed worse today.

"Why isn't it my favourite 5′4″ chicken nugget. We're just super keen to start this fantastic school year," Louis clasped his hands together. "I cannot wait to wake up early again and sit in a two-hour lecture." His voice was drenched in sarcasm, despite being a morning person. The getting out of bed part was the most difficult task.

Violet scanned the courtyard, her eyes on the prowl for her classmate. "Is Brody here yet?"

Marlon's head perked up suddenly, ignoring the chuckle from Louis. "She texted me saying she was going into the library to print some stuff. I think it has to do with the extracurricular activities."

"Our sweet Brody, such a diligent worker." Louis sighed. Even in high school, Brody was one of the top students, always working hard and trying to get others involved in whatever fundraiser she had organised.

Violet scoffed, her chipped nails tapping the wooden table. "She said she'd meet me here before class." Her eyes scanned the courtyard, all the students seemed to have a grey cloud over their heads. She could relate. Violet's eyes landed on two familiar faces making their way over to the group, a devilish grin overcame her face. "Louis, don't look now but right behind you is somehow who has the power to destroy you." She chuckled, teasing her friends was the highlight of her day.

Of course, Louis turned around and was greeted by Aasim and Clementine locked in conversation. "I mean, Aasim is cute and all but Clem is the one I have my eyes on," He turned his body to Clem and opened his arms to her. "Oh my darlin-"

Clementine quickly slammed her hand over his mouth. "No," She whispered. "Not this early." There was a playful smirk on her lips though.

Louis pulled her in closer, their noses touching. "Alright, can I have my mouth back now?" His warm breath sent shivers down her arm.

"Sure," She retracted her hand slowly, knowing Louis he would still try and pull some stunt.

Violet made a loud and grotesque gag. "C'mon guys, I don't need this gross shit so early in the morning."

Louis poked his tongue out at her, a mighty retaliation. "What brings you here so early Clem? Your class isn't for another hour."

"I told Aasim I'd help him with the school newspaper," Clementine adjusted the strap of his satchel. "Your class starts in ten minutes doesn't it?"

Louis nodded. "It sure does, I just wanted to see you before I had to leave," He turned over to Marlon and poked his shoulder. "You ready to go or are you gonna keep looking around for Brody?"

Marlon threw a punch to his shoulder. "Yeah, we can go. For the record, I was not-"

Violet held her hand right up to his face. "I'll save you the energy, yes you were," She gave him a gentle push as the boys wandered off to their lecture hall. "Seriously what is taking Brody so long?"

Marlon threw an arm over the shoulder of his best mate. "Ready to face the music?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. You have any plans after class?"

Marlon smirked, flashing his pearly whites to the strangers that walked by. "Yup, I got so many places to be," It remained silent between the two as they entered their hall, with Louis raising his eyebrows at that comment. "What? Television counts as a place."

"I do not miss those chairs," Louis shoved his schoolbooks back into his satchel, only adding to the mess inside. "Who are you talking to Louis?" He asked himself. Marlon had zipped off the second class ended, the boy caught sight of Violet and more importantly Brody walking across the courtyard and felt the need to catch up with them. "So much for television."

Louis pushed his booted feet across the grass and pulled his phone out, seeing a few messages from Clementine.

I'll be in the library after class if you wanna meet me there :)

It's really boring here

Help

Don't worry Clem, I'll be there in a flash!

The library wasn't far from his lecture hall, the grand building hovered over the smaller classrooms, Louis wasn't so sure why it had to be so big. He pushed the door open slowly, trying to minimise the creaking sound that came with the old entrance, it always echoed throughout the dismal space.

Where have you parked m'lady?

Parked? You've watched that movie Clueless too many times, I'm by the horror section

Alas, there she was, hunched over her textbook. Her nose was slightly scrunched and the tip of her tongue was hanging from her mouth, after being her friend for so long Louis could immediately tell that she was in deep thought. Ethics was one of her main passions, being able to study it was a dream, albeit a difficult one to achieve

"You look cute when you're thinking," He leaned against the side of her chair, interrupting her reading. "Already studying I see." Clementine was that kid in high school who got good grades in all classes, she even bumped up Louis from a C+ to an A- in Geography.

"I'm just making a summary of today's lesson, thanks for meeting me here," She leaned up and pecked his cheek. "How was your lecture?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "Does a book full of little sketches count as hard work?" He didn't appreciate Clementine's stone-cold stare. "What? I just need a break."

"Already?" She slammed her textbook shut, as much as it annoyed her to admit, Louis was right. Having to understand ethics and moral values wasn't easy so early in the morning.

He extended his hand out to her. "Care to join me?" His voice was smooth like silk and Clementine felt herself giving in to his request almost too easily.

"Okay," She gripped her books beneath her arm and grabbed onto Louis's warm hand tightly. "So, where are we running off to this time?"

Louis ran his thumb over her hand, admiring how soft it was against his calloused ones. "I know we usually go to that small diner but I thought this time we could go somewhere new. Broaden our horizon!" He announced bravely.

Together they weaved their way through the hoard of students, Clementine's mind was running wild with all the possibilities of what was about to happen. Knowing Louis it would be nothing short of magical. He took her far past the school to a small park, a few young children scattered by.

Clementine stood unimpressed by the sight. "I hate to break it to you, but this swingset isn't new."

"Now now Clemmy, we're not there yet," He continued with the march, heading closer a long line of trees. The thick wall of leaves proved to be a challenge to squeeze through, Clementine flinched as stray twigs scratched her hands. "Sometimes you gotta continue past the danger to find what you're looking for."

Once through the cascading trees, the duo was happily greeted with a glimmering pond, with daisies and smaller fern trees lining the calm body of water. Sunlight peaked through the trees, bouncing along the pond as if it were made of diamonds.

"Louis," She whispered. "This is so..so.." Clementine was utterly speechless.

He tip-toed down to the water's edge and sat beside the quiet stream, patting the spot beside him. "I thought you'd like it. I've known about this place for a while, but now that you're my girlfriend I want to share it with you."

She eagerly sat next to him, rather closely, and admired the view all around her. "How did you find this place?" The park was a common hangout spot for her and Violet, the rusty swingset had heard many of their rants and laughs.

"I was looking after Rosie one day when she chased a cat through these trees," Louis dipped his index finger into the water, surprisingly it wasn't that cold. "She received extra belly rubs that day."

Clementine leaned her head against his shoulder, she always found peace by his side. "After that long ass class I just had, this is just what I need." She grabbed a pebble from her side and flicked it across the water, bringing out a bemused expression from Louis.

He looked between the sunken pebble and Clem rapidly. "I've never been able to figure out how to do that."

"You just gotta swish and flick," Lee had taught her how to do it on a camping trip when she was eleven, it was one of her best memories. "Is there a reason you dragged me out here? Besides the view."

Louis bounced up and down like an excited baby. "Yes! I figured now that uni has started again and we might not get a chance to go on a date for a while, I thought we could-dammit!" His attempt at sliding his boots off in one swift motion failed as the lace had been tied up too tightly. Soon enough he resorted to yanking them off his feet. Louis quickly composed himself, so much for trying to look cool. "Have one now. Care to join me for a swim?"

Clementine sat up straight and tried not to oggle at Louis as he lifted his shirt up. "It's winter Lou, we'll freeze our asses off."

He set his shoes and shirt beside a patch of daisies. "I've done this before, it's totally fine. Tell you what, I promise we'll keep it short and sweet so we can get back to our classes," Louis climbed atop a nearby rock and dived into the water, splashing Clem's feet. "See?" He couldn't let on that the tips of his toes were beginning to feel cold, not when he could see the temptation to jump in her eyes.

"Well there is nothing wrong with short and sweet," She couldn't stop herself from winking at him. "But close your eyes!"

Louis turned his back to her to provide extra security, if his mother taught him anything it was how to respect a girl. He could hear the thump of shoes being thrown onto the soil, followed by the scuffle of her denim jacket.

Clementine rolled her jeans up to her knees, thankful that she decided to leave a singlet top on beneath her shirt. "You can look now," She called out. Her big toe made contact with the water first and her body immediately recoiled. "You said it wasn't cold!"

"It's not that bad, you'll get used to it," Louis trudged over to her and gently took her hand, guiding her until the water hit her shoulders. "Feeling better?" Once she gained confidence he let her go, smiling at how she bobbed around in the water. She was luckily tall enough to balance on her tiptoes.

Clementine tied her hair up into a petite bun. "It's alright, except I can't feel my toes," She gazed up at him, her smile falling at how distracted he was by her hair. "Louis?"

He couldn't help it, she never usually tied her hair up this way. Little pigtails had become her signature style, it was fun to flick them and watch the little curls bounce around lightly-

"Louis!"

Oops, busted. "Yes, my darling Clementine?" He feigned an innocent smile, acting as if he hadn't been staring at her for the past ten seconds, fangirling over her hair.

She crossed her arms tightly, an expression that could match the face of Death adorned her. "Are you even listening to me?" Clementine already knew the answer to that question, he had a glazed look in his eyes.

"I am, it's just..." How could he explain to her how beautiful she was? What words in the English language could perfectly describe the way her eyes crease when she smirks? What could possibly begin to fathom her little giggle? Or the way her smile could light up an entire city? "You're cute."

It seemed to be enough, the giggle that erupted from her sent his heart into a spiral. "You have got to be kidding me." Clementine pushed him away but he grabbed ahold of her hand and pulled her in close, their lips barely touching.

"What? I'm just speaking the god's honest," He whispered in her ear, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing to attention. She wasn't sure if it was because of how cold she was getting or if it was the sublime power of Louis's voice.

Possibly both.

He could see the small goosebumps forming along her arms. "You getting cold?" His answer came in the form of a shiver and the chattering of teeth. "Alrighty, I told you I'd make this quick. Let's head out."

Clementine trudged back to the shore, her arms wrapped around her body. Louis quickly wrapped his thick coat around her. "You need it more than I do." She eagerly snuggled into the fuzzy lining.

Louis placed her hat rightfully atop her head, completing the outfit. "Did you have fun?"

She jumped up to his cheek and pecked it softly once again. "I did, thanks for showing me this place." Clementine didn't want to say goodbye to this slice of paradise, but the real world beckons. They made their way through the army of trees and ignored the glares from some of the nearby parents as they emerged. Even some of the students stared once they made it back to their campus.

"We probably should have made a better effort to dry off." Clementine held onto the jacket with an iron grip, she could feel specks of water dripping down her back slowly.

Louis whistled at Marlon, who had his headphones yanked off by Mitch. He raised an eyebrow at the state Clem and Louis were in. "Where have you two been?"

Violet pointed at the obvious water droplets falling from their hair. "Why are you two soaking?" This was a new sight. She reached for her phone carefully, a photo opportunity like this doesn't come around very often. "Say cheese lovebirds!"

The flash caught them both off guard. It took Clementine a couple seconds to realise what had just happened. "Are you fucking serious Vi?" She stood her ground yet Violet seemed more focus on showing everyone else the photo.

Louis rubbed his eyes, all he could see were a bunch of spots. "Hey, remember when I had corneas?"

Mitch wiggled his eyebrows. "Dude seriously, where have you been?" His phone buzzed in his hand as Violet sent him her copy of the photo, a repressed snort escaped him.

"Drop it, Mitch. We just went for a quick swim." Clem snapped. She secured her hat and marched past her friends, ignoring their whistles and giggles. They all turned their heads to Louis in unison, awaiting a more exciting answer.

Louis tried to decipher what his strange friends were doing. "What? She's being honest."

"Did you sneak into the school's pool?" Aasim crossed his arms, the swim room was always kept under lock in key. If Louis had snuck in somehow that would be too much power for the man to have.

"No, I took her somewhere...secret." Louis headed back to his dorm room, his lips turned into a tight smile as he checked the text bubble on his phone. Even if Clementine didn't think so, that surprise photo had become one of his favourites.

Thanks Vi

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