#if the other ones have been set when theyre way farther along than not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honestlyconkus · 6 years

Note

connor and markus having to deal with the media desperately trying to figure out if theyre a thing or not? love everything you write!

Conkus breaks the internet? HELL YEAH

Ring

On the 3rd ring Markus reached for his phone, groggy fingers grabbing the thin plastic device. His vision was still blurry from sleep. A digital clock glowed brightly and said 8:23am. It was a saturday.

“Hello?”

“MARKUS! OH MY GOD GET ON IRIS RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. MARKUS CAN YOU HEAR ME? MARKUS-“

At North’s screeching tones Markus pulled the phone a foot from his ear so she wouldn’t break his eardrums. She was still screaming at him from the speaker after a minute, her voice occasionally going static because she was speaking so loudly and quickly. When there was a break in her sentences that’s when he’d intercept.

North took a quick pause and Markus latched onto the silence. “Number 1, slow down. Number 2, why are you calling me so early again? Number 3, why do you want me online-”

“HAVE YOU BEEN READING THE NEWS YOU OLD FUCK, THEY’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT YOU! AND CONNOR.”

At Connor’s name his heart dropped, ice pooling at his chest. Shit. “Connor? What about him?”

“THEY SAID YOU GUYS ARE DATING. SO GET ON IRIS RIGHT NOW AND SET THIS ONE STRAIGHT WITH YOUR FRIENDS.”

“Uhm.”

“DON’T uhm ME YOU SLUT JUST FUCKING TALK TO US,” suddenly North gasped, her voice considerably dropping in pitch and in volume. “Unless Connor is sitting there right beside you, naked?!”

Actually, Connor was in his kitchen cooking him breakfast. He could smell the greasy scent of bacon and faintly hear Connor humming a tune. There were soft noises of kitchenware being moved around.

Markus figured Connor would take awhile, so he decided to go along with it. He’s also pretty sure North would have a heart attack if he didn’t answer at least one of her questions. “No no, he’s not here with me. Fine I’ll get on, just gimme a second.”

He hung up on North and walked to his desk, where it had a computer screen, a small LED bar meant for holograms, and a touchscreen surface for his keyboard. He logged in and clicked on IRIS, which was a video call service meant to talk to people over long distances. The camera took in a person’s image and turned them into 3D holograms, projected onto a patron’s LED. Markus gave them a call and watched as North, Simon and Josh manifested in holographic forms before him.

He could faintly see the walls and decorations of their bedroom. North’s hair was up in a towel, and she wore a fluffy white bathrobe. She seemed to be sitting in Simon’s lap, who was yawning quietly and resting his head against her chest, blond hair a messy bedhead. Josh was sitting from the bed, and Markus could barely see him wearing sweats and a tshirt, slightly smaller than the other 2. He was farther away.

“MARKUS!” Hologram North said, immediately pointing an accusatory finger at him. He moved back when the particles moved towards him, really feeling as if she were standing right in front of him.

“IS IT TRUE? ARE YOU AND CONNOR ANDERSON DATING? IF SO WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US.”

“And why aren’t you wearing a shirt,” Simon whined, eyeing Markus’ body up and down appreciatively. “You know it’s not fair to us, looking so hot all the time. You’re ruining my self esteem.”

Markus raised a hand, a small smile on his lips. “North, stop yelling. I’ll answer your questions when you stop giving me the Look. Also, where are these accusations even coming from? Simon, baby, you are quite literally a model. A Calvin Klein model at that, you don’t need to compare me to you to know that you’re just as hot, maybe even more so.”

Simon blushed and turned his face into North’s robe, who rolled her eyes but patted him on the back. “He’s right Simon stop saying dumb shit about yourself. And stop flirting with Markus, he has a boyfriend now, apparently.” She crossed her arms and glared at him through her webcam.

The likeness of her and her holographic form were uncanny.

“The rumours started when paps found a photo of you taken by someone, and they dropped a name,” Josh intervened, coming closer to view. He gently pushed North and Simon away and began sending him articles, links. “It began to escalate when people saw the articles and started tweeting them at you. I believe this all happened in a duration of 3 days. Did you really not know about this?”

Markus clicked on the messaging system and frowned when links upon links were sent to him. Mainly on blogs, articles, small funky websites. A lot of tweets too, entire threads about Markus and this mystery man. He’s surprised even news coverage was conducted.

Titles included, Who Is This Mystery Man?, Is Markus Manfred Single?, Markus Manfred: Dating?!, Mystery Man with Famous Detroit Painter, Markus Manfred! The list went on and on, each title only a slight variation to the other, and many sharing the same grainy photo; Markus and a man sitting together at a coffee shop, his face obscured by his baseball hat. The coverage was immense, certain sites trying to zoom in on the photo to try to decipher the mystery person. The name Connor Anderson repeatedly popped up, presumably the name the photographer fed sources.

He shook his head, sighing. “No. I was working on a painting the last few days. You know my rules when I paint; no social media until my main idea is done.”

Josh pushed the black wire-rimmed glasses up, his finger rubbing gently across his nose. “Well, it’s gotten big enough people are speculating what it possibly means, who this supposed “connor anderson” is, if he’s even the real connor, etc etc. People are even appearing on North and Simon’s lives and asking if we knew anything.”

“Which we didn’t,” North said, glaring angrily. If her eyes could light someone on fire Markus would be scorched. “Enlighten us, then.”

“Were you guys gonna tell us before the media found out or? Because honestly I feel like I’ve just been betrayed by my own mother. Which I have, by the way, when she ate my pint of strawberry ice cream back in 4th grade but that’s not the point. I mean, how could you do this to us, and more importantly to me?” She turned her nose up in the air and gestured to him, giving him an opening.

Markus opened his mouth then closed it, thinking about how to word the situation properly. He felt bad, he really did. His reasoning was because he didn’t want his friends involved and to end up being dragged along the wrong side of the screen; too many people have tried to do that to Markus already and he hated it.

His life was open to criticism, but he’d be damned if he let the people he loved get in the mix of it too.

“Okay, fine, Connor and I have been dating for quite some time now. Since… June 4th, I think?”

North let out a scream, which prompted Simon to scoot back so she could stand up and glare into the camera. Suddenly Connor entered the room, smiling wide and holding a tray of their breakfast. He set it down on a nearby table and walked closer.

“Good morning Markus- oh! Is that North? Hello North! It’s me Connor.”

From Jericho’s point of view, Connor’s holographic figure was small and dim due to the distance from the camera. When he came into view, hand wrapping around Markus’ neck and waving adorably at them, they all noticed 3 things.

Connor wearing one of Markus’ button downs- visibly buttoned wrong, wrinkled, and nothing else beneath

The small bruises, red and purple, peeking out of his white collar when he leaned forward.

Markus soft smile as Connor walked up to introduce himself, blue and green eyes looking absolutely smitten.

North continued screaming, standing up and walking out of the room for a moment. Connor watched as her little figure disappeared, concern knitted into his eyebrows. Her voice was merely an echo after a few seconds.

“Is she alright?”

The jericho boys nodded, Simon leaning forward, hand on his desk and chin on his hand, smiling. “She’ll be back, she just needs to let off some steam. But wow, congratulations you guys! I didn’t know you were dating.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry about that,” Connor said, taking his seat onto Markus’ lap. “We didn’t want it to become a big deal, and because he has the Manfred name putting this out public so early would’ve been a headache to him and the police department.”

“So we decided to give it a try secretly,” Markus continued. One hand reached beneath Connor’s shirt and gently drew circles with his fingers along the hips. His other hand rested against Connor’s thighs, also covered in marks. “See if we could, you know, make it work.”

“It looks like it did.” Josh winked, staring pointedly at the marks covering Connor’s body. Connor blushed and stood up, looking for a pair of joggers to present himself better. When he left North came back, towel gone and her hair brushed down. She was still wearing her robe, considerably less ruffled but still pissed.

“So what are we going to do?” North asked, sitting back onto Simon’s lap. Her voice was surprisingly clear despite screeching from the depths of her soul a minute ago. “The media is already trying to make this much more fucked up than it should be.”

Markus rolled his eyes. He’d heard the same things over and over again, always accusing him of plagiarism or thinking he’s up to a scandal, like his half brother Leo. They’re always trying to drag his name to the ground but he’d grown thick skin and it doesn’t bother him as much. “It’s fine. I don’t care what they think of me.”

“But what about Connor?” North pushed Josh to the side and began hunting for the harsher articles, the ones intent on tearing her best friend down.

“What about me?” Connor came back into view wearing Markus’ sweats and sat back down onto his boyfriend’s lap, sitting up straight and smiling curiously at North. She smiled back and blew his holographic figure a kiss.

“Hey baby. I’m still mad at you for not telling me anything, but I promise I won’t rip your fingers off when we meet next time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Anyway,” She went back on her hunt, ignoring the stunned looks on everyone’s faces between their exchange. “I think the media figured out Markus wouldn’t give 2 shits, so they’ve decided to target Connor instead. They’re accusing him of his integrity, thinking he’s being sold out to Markus so Markus could hide his supposed scandals, maybe Connor is sleeping his way through the department to get a promotion, etc etc.”

She sent over the links to the articles, watching as Markus’ face grew tighter and tighter. Blue and green eyes were lit with a raging fury as the media attempt to get under his skin by attacking the one he loved. They went so far in the reach they even tried to link the two’s relationship with Connor’s father, Hank. Asking if his slump a few years back had anything to do with Connor being “bought” to succession in the precinct. It almost worked, until Connor leaned back to press his weight against Markus’ chest, reminding him he’s here.

He turned and gave Markus a quick kiss to the jaw, waiting until the beating heart he could feel slowed.

Connor wanted to laugh at the titles. Is Markus Manfred Hiding A Scandal?, Markus Manfred, Paying Detective Hush Money!, Detective Anderson A Sell Out!, Scandal In The DPD!

“Where these really all they could come up with?” Connor asked, clicking through, unbothered. “You’d think they went to school for this.”

“You’re not upset?” Markus asked, looking down at his lover. “You’re not mad about how the people will perceive you?”

“Of course I’m mad.” Connor said, rolling his eyes and jostling him with his elbow. “I’m mad that they’re attacking me for illogical reasons, trying to start something they don’t properly understand. The fact that no media outlets have reached out to us is ridiculous and embarrassing on their part. I’m mad they can’t even do their research correctly. I’m mad that this will hinder my future investigations, because detectives at the DPD still don’t like me and will do whatever it takes to tear a rookie like me down.”

Markus’ guilt grew at each passing sentence, feeling more and more to blame at getting Connor caught up in this, until Connor’s voice grew strong and he gave Markus a pointed look.

“I’m especially mad that they think they can get away with attacking my lover like this. They will regret doing this.”

Markus smiled, leaning down for a kiss. The crowd before them held a mixture of boos, cheers, and groans. In order: North, Simon, and Josh. Connor reciprocated by kissing him back, a simple kiss because of the audience.

He grew more bold when there weren’t people looking.

“So what do you want to do?” Josh asked, staring at the couple. “The easiest way to dispel the rumours from escalating is clearing anything up as soon as possible. A statement should suffice.” He was tapping rapidly on his keyboard, already looking at analytics for their social media profiles.

“You need to make it public,” Simon added, nodding in agreement. He began to list off ways they could make it happen. “Markus has a platform; Connor can come to us if he wants to say anything to the internet.”

“Whatever happens, we’re here for you Markus.” North concluded, nodding resolutely at her best friend. The rest of them agreed.

Markus felt his heart swell with pride and fierce love for his friends, the people he’d begun to consider family almost a year ago. He looked down at his boyfriend, who was also staring back at him, waiting for a response.

“What do you think Connor?”

Connor shrugged, sitting back comfortably into his lover’s warmth. “It’s up to you Markus. You’re the one with the social media accounts; it’d also make more sense for the public to hear it from you first. Like I said, their words don’t bother me like you imagined they would, but I think going public with our relationship would be a good idea. It’ll create less headaches for the both of us in the future, and I don’t see anything going wrong in this scenario. We can clear up any confusion, confirm the relationship, and hope no one is still homophobic in the year 2040.”

“Are you sure you want this?” Markus asked, brushing a thumb across the back of Connor’s palm. He stared in thought as Connor flipped his hand over, playing with Markus’ fingers until he intertwined their hands together. “It won’t be the same afterwards.”

“Are you kidding me?” Connor craned his neck to the right, looking up. His eyebrows were scrunched in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting to tell the world you were my boyfriend for months. Of course I want this.”

Everyone laughed at Markus’ perplexed expression, Connor grinning mischievously. He reached up and pulled Markus down for another kiss, this one slow and deliberate, tongues out, making the crowd whistle and cat call at their raunchiness. North had to clear her throat when she saw Connor arch his back, which only meant Markus’ hands had gone to discreet places.

“Alright you whores, it’s settled.” She smiled, crossing her arms across her chest. The couple broke apart and sat up, attentive. “We’ll start our plan of attack against those journalist goons with Markus. Beginning with his Instagram. Once you confirm with a cute photo of the 2 of you (keep it PG), Simon and I will also confirm anything on our lives.”

“Josh will handle twitter; just tweet out whatever the people want to hear, maybe do a Q&A or something, thread here and there.”

“Could I use my snapchat?” Connor offered, waving his phone in the air. North’s eyebrows rose in surprise and she chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. They hadn’t even known Connor had social media.

“You know, Connor, sometimes you really surprise me.”

“We’ll keep doing this until someone wants to interview us, I presume?” Markus asked, glancing between Jericho and Connor. They all nod and he relaxed against the chair, pacified.

“Huh.” Everyone held their breath, expectant.

There was a flash of white as Markus unlocked his phone, scrolling through his gallery for photos.

“Let’s do it.”

am I starting another series? I’m starting another series ;)

conkus breaks the internet

asks still open!! I’m trying to get as many as I can so that when college starts I can just post those and stay active for yall lol

653 notes · View notes

justheretobreakthings · 6 years

Text

Remember Me - Chapter 14

(First Chapter) (Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Word Count: 5,504 (Total Word Count: 57,367) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

It was strange enough for the paladins of Voltron to have found another human this far from home, locked in a Galra prison. But it was stranger still when this human insisted that he knew them, and even that he was the former red paladin of Voltron.

That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? After all, if this Keith was actually a part of the Voltron team, then why does nobody remember him?

Chapter Preview:

“Keith,” Allura snapped. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Saving the stupid mission, what’s it look like I’m doing?” Keith shot back.

“You were supposed to stay on the bridge with Coran!”

“Whoops,” Keith said drily. “Guess I forgot. Lance, on your eleven.”

“On my - hey!” Lance yelped, veering Red away as Keith sped by mere inches from her port flank. “Watch where you’re flying!”

“How’re things looking, Pidge?”

“Well, the intel holds true. We’re definitely getting readings in line with the ones the rebels sent us.”

“And you’re sure it’s quintessence?”

“Either that or the most bizarre new form of static cling ever discovered.”

Allura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she frowned up at the screen where imaging from the Green Lion’s viewport was being projected back into the bridge, where the other paladins stood gathered, watching intently. “Pidge,” Allura said, “What have I told you about being sarcastic when reporting to base?”

“Hard to say, princess, I tend to tune you out when we get onto that topic.”

“Pidge,” Shiro said, tone scolding.

“Sorry. In any case, there’s definitely readings of quintessence on this ship, but it’s also definitely… different.”

“Different how?” Allura asked. “Different like the quintessence the Blade’s been trailing?”

“No, see here.” The view on the screen switched to Pidge’s helmet cam, and she pointed to a readout on her dashboard. “There’s no pattern to the energy surges. The quintessence that the Blade found in connection to Lotor had different energy readings than the ones we have on record from that druid lab we found way back when, but they were still regular. This stuff here, though, it’s like - it seems… unstable.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re moving around in Green,” Lance suggested. “Like, you know, you’re getting closer and farther to the ship, so the reading’s weird?”

“No, Lance,” Pidge sighed. “That’s not it.”

“Well, we can’t know that for sure until - ”

“Yes, we can. Distance doesn’t affect how Green picks up quintessential residue. She releases a signal toward a pre-calculated epicenter on the targeted area that remains completely static regardless of - ”

“Never mind,” Lance said. “I just decided you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, goody, I feel validated.”

“Could whatever’s creating the quintessence energy be being actively altered right now?” Shiro asked. “Perhaps there’s a working lab in that ship?”

“Doubtful,” Coran spoke up. “Not with that make of ship. It’s a cargo ship, for one thing, but beyond that, it looks to be modeled after the Galra’s old Lexell-N-13 ships. Wonderful stability in the engine room, but notoriously terrible at maintaining internal gravity levels. A dreadful place to be doing precision lab work.”

“So, what are we looking at, then?” Allura asked.

“Transporting supplies, no doubt,” Coran answered. “Whatever’s leaving the quintessence traces may be what’s being experimented upon.”

“Not sure if that really gives us the greatest well of answers as to what the druids have been up to,” Keith commented from the back of the group. “Not if we don’t get access to their process in action, I mean.” This was the first he had spoken since Allura had told them about the signal the rebel group had picked up. Amid their wormholing to the coordinates and sending Pidge out in her cloaked Green Lion to scout out the ship the rebels had come across, he had remained quiet, intently focused.

“Perhaps not the greatest,” Coran replied, “But still useful. We can certainly glean information from whatever is being transported, both the cargo itself and inventory logs, and if they’re keeping travel records, we could use those to find out where the ship is coming from and where it’s going - two other locations that would be immense resources to us.”

Shiro nodded. “All right. Princess, your call: are we looking at an infiltration mission here?”

“That would probably be the best course of action,” Allura answered.

Lance lifted his hand in question. “Should we go for hijacking the ship while we’re down there? I’m just thinking, if this stuff important to Witch Lady, probably would be helpful to keep it from getting to checkpoint B, right?”

“Not in this case, no,” said Allura. “If we’re able to get information about the ship’s docking points, we’re going to want to be able to go investigate them afterward. As long as we’re stealthy and don’t impede the ship’s route, they won’t know we’re coming. If we interfere with them though, or if they’re able to send off any communication that something’s gone wrong en route, they’ll have time to clear the evidence. And if that prison was anything to go by, it seems that’s something at which the druids are quite adept.”

“All right,” Shiro said with a brisk nod. “I could join Pidge, and we can go down in Green and try and make our way into the ship.”

“Sounds good,” Allura said. “Lance, be on standby in Red in case they need help making a quick exit. Hunk and I can ready Blue and Yellow in case any shots start firing, and we can regroup once you’re either finished, or if a battle situation erupts.”

“What should I do?” Keith asked as the others started toward their ziplines.

Allura paused mid-step. “What - what should you do?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah. Should I ride down with someone, or do we have any cruisers to spare, or…?”

“Right. Right.” Allura cleared her throat. “Well, actually, er, it - it would probably be very helpful to have an extra set of eyes here on the bridge to, say, keep an eye on - ”

“Uh-huh,” Keith cut her off, and Lance could practically see him physically deflating. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be helpful.”

Allura sighed. “Keith, this isn’t a matter of you not being helpful, it’s - ”

“I just figured, you know, this is sort of my mission too, isn’t it?” Keith asked. “I mean, we’re - we’re looking into this ship because it’s a lead on, um, my - my, uh, my whole… deal, with Haggar, and I thought - ”

“Keith - ”

“And like I’ve already told you, I’ve got experience with infiltration missions, so I know what I - ”

“Keith,” Shiro said. He had doubled back toward him from his path toward the zipline, and he set his hand on Keith’s shoulder, turning the smaller man slightly to look him in the face. “I promise you, this isn’t anything personal. I’m sure you’d do just fine on a mission. But right now, we just need to do this quickly and efficiently, and that’s going to be more difficult if there’s an unfamiliar element in the mix, you know? We’re, ah, used to the current Voltron dynamic, we know how to work off of it.”

Keith bit at his lower lip for a moment before dropping his gaze and nodding. “Right, sorry,” he mumbled. “I hadn’t thought of - I’ll, uh, stay here with Coran.” Shiro smiled and patted his shoulder before moving away.

“Oh, I’m honored to have the companionship!” Coran said, brightly and just a little too loudly to be perfectly natural, before throwing his arm around Keith’s shoulder and tugging him toward the mission control screens. “Don’t know how many of these instruments you’re familiar with, so let me give you a quick rundown!”

He began an enthusiastic tutorial of the various monitors and buttons, and the other paladins took the opportunity to start toward the ziplines again. Lance shuffled over to walk beside Shiro. “You know,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” Shiro asked.

“Like, give Keith a whole speech if he doesn’t like an order? I know you’ve never been big on pulling rank, but, I mean, you and Allura are in charge, right?”

Shiro shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt anything. ‘Specially when he’s still not in the greatest state mentally and all.”

“He’s a lot better on that mark lately. It just doesn’t seem - ”

“Gotta split up here, Lance,” Shiro said, gesturing toward the zipline entrances.

Lance huffed out a breath. “Right,” he grunted, parting ways with Shiro and moving toward his own zipline. He could let the matter drop. It wasn’t as if he actually cared about whether Shiro was coddling Keith too much. It just had seemed worth a mention.

That’s all.

He slid down the zipline and into Red’s waiting cockpit, and from there he flew out of the hangar to wait, and it was easy to put any concerns about how Shiro was handling Keith to the back of his mind. Red had a way of keeping him focused during a mission. Lance wasn’t sure if it was just the thrill that came with being in the pilot seat, or if the Red Lion’s own keenness and confidence were contagious. Probably the latter, if he were to be honest. And it was something he wouldn’t trade away for the world.

He waited for the others to get their places situated; Allura and Hunk were flanking Black on the way down so Shiro could move into Green for the infiltration itself, and keeping the lion covered until Shiro could return to the pilot’s seat. Once Shiro had made his move, he tailed Green along back toward the Galra ship, keeping his distance.

“Found what looks to be a good entry point over beneath this wing,” Pidge said into the comms. “I can keep Green’s cloaking on and dock her. Lance, keep an eye out on the exterior and be ready in case we need to use a different exit point.”

“Roger,” Lance said. He started Red on a wide swingaround to the other side of the Galra ship, keeping his eyes peeled all the while for any activity.

“You got any schematics you can send my way, Coran?”

“Got some for the old Lexell-N-13,” Coran answered. “Not sure it will be precisely the same as this ship, but should give you a good guideline.”

“Pass ‘em over,” Pidge said. “Long as an access point to their security network’s in roughly the same place, I’m good to go.”

Lance kept his position in the air, and the others were quiet over their comms as they waited before Shiro said softly, “Disembarking Green now.”

“Got you on my radar, Shiro,” Lance said, pulling up the thermal imaging scope on Red’s dashboard and focusing onto the entry site Pidge had pointed out earlier, where two bright blurs indicated Shiro and Pidge’s presence. “Think your coast is clear.”

“All right, I’ll make my way toward security,” Pidge said. “Assuming that these schematics are accurate?”

“I’m eighty percent sure that they are,” Coran said.

“Good enough. Okay, Shiro, quintessence reading’s mostly centered farther back along the cargo bay toward the aft fuselage. Start heading that way, I’ll monitor you?”

“Already on it,” Shiro said.

Lance watched as the two blurs from their heat signatures parted and took off, tracking them until they started overlapping with others on the ship in connecting hallways. At that point he minimized the thermal vision on his dashboard and brought Red around to monitor from behind the cover of one of the ship’s elevons.

“At the security bank,” Pidge said after a few doboshes, “How’s everyone holding up?”

“Hunk and I are holding steady out here, Pidge,” Allura replied.

“Same here,” Lance said.

“Think I’m gonna need a hand, actually,” Shiro said. “Door’s not responding to my arm.”

“Shit, hang on, I don’t see any alarm raised or anything, so what did - ”

“It didn’t light up red or sound an alarm, it was just unresponsive. Seems like it’s turned off.”

“All right, hang on, let me get that powered back up for you.” There was quiet for a few moments before Pidge said, “Uh, Shiro, what door are you trying to open?”

“The cargo bay entrance? Why?”

“Well, I’m looking, and I can’t find any entrance to the cargo bay.”

“What?”

“Like, there’s definitely a cargo hold here on the ship, got official schematics here in the security bank, but I can’t… figure out how to get there.”

“Could you send those schematics my way, Pidge?” Coran asked.

“Sure thing.”

“Pidge?” said Shiro. “If this isn’t the entrance to the cargo hold - ”

“Hold on, let me find you on the monitors… yeah, looks like you’re trying to access a liquid hydrogen tank.”

“Then how do I get to the cargo hold?”

“I’m looking…”

“Don’t forget, Pidge,” Coran said. “You’re also looking for access to transport records and inventory logs.” In the background, Lance could hear Keith’s voice softly ask, “Can I look at the schematics?”

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t forget,” Pidge said. “I’ve got two hands, Coran, I can only type so much at once.”

“So what should I - ” Shiro started.

“Lay low for sec,” Pidge answered. “Look, I’ll - I’ll keep an eye on the cameras while I work my way into their records, Coran can start trying to figure out a way into the cargo hold.”

“I don’t think there is one,” Keith said.

A pause, then, “Come again, Mullet?” Lance asked.

“Well, I mean, there is, technically, but it’s not - look, I recognize these schematics, we infiltrated a ship with this exact same layout once when I was with the Blades, must have been the same model of - ”

“Now, Keith,” Allura sighed, “We have been over this. You were never actually - ”

“No, okay, whatever, I wasn’t actually a Blade, but I swear, I know this ship! And you’re not gonna be able to get to the cargo hold, not from inside.”

“What are you talking about?” Pidge asked.

“It’s an added security measure to ensure that only select people have access to whatever’s being transported. You can’t get to the cargo hold from inside, not unless you go completely smashing through some walls. The only way to get to the cargo is through the exterior bay doors, and they locking mechanisms and key codes aren’t connected to the ship’s internal network, so Pidge won’t be able to hack them from where she is.”

“Aw, isn’t it so sweet how much the Galra all respect and trust each other,” Pidge muttered. “So what, we’re gonna have to go try to get into the cargo bay from the outside?”

“Nothing doing, short stuff,” Lance said. “I’ve got the exterior cargo bay doors in my view. Windows all around, right in the line of a laser turret just off the starboard wing, no place to dock Green… there’s no way in Hell you’d ever be able to get in there without being spotted.”

Keith let out a little grunt of frustration before saying, “Well, then, forget about the stealth, and you can just - ”

“Absolutely not,” Allura said. “Remember, if we give away our activity, we give them the opportunity to clear out evidence wherever the ship is intending to go.”

“But - ”

“Sorry, Keith, but Allura’s right,” Shiro said. “For now, we may just have to forego the cargo and focus on Pidge’s info download.”

“...Fine.”

“Well,” Pidge said. “The good news is, that shouldn’t take much longer. Think I’m just about into their primary drive, so if we - ” A sudden blare sounded into the comms, making Lance wince and put a hand over his ear. “Fuck!” Pidge spat.

“What happened?!” Shiro cried.

“Pidge, did you trigger an alarm?!” Hunk asked.

“No, no way, I - ”

Whatever she said next, Lance didn’t hear. His eyes widened as one of the turrets on the ship rotated toward him. A nudge from Red kept his surprise from freezing him in his tracks, and he had time to grab onto the steering and pull away before a laser blast came shooting his way.

“Crap!” Hunk yelped. “They’re shooting!”

“You don’t say?!” Lance grunted. “Sorry, Pidge, they spotted Red, think that’s what triggered the alarm!”

“Shit,” Pidge muttered. “Woulda been nice for you to wait a few minutes more before making your grand entrance, Lance!”

“Hey, Red is a gigantic robot lion in the sky, there’s only so much I can do to keep her from being noticed!”

“Paladins, please!” Allura said. “This is not the time! Pidge, Shiro, get back to Green! I’ll escort Black around so Shiro can make the transfer. Hunk, you’re on defense, get to Lance and stave off any attacks. Coran, prepare the castle for me to return and make a wormhole for us.”

A chorus of ‘right’s and ‘roger’s sounded through the comms as everyone hastened to comply with the orders. Lance dove out of the way of another blast from the ship before sending one of his own back through Red’s open mouth.

“Hey,” Keith said. “As long as your cover’s been blown - ”

“Not really a good time, Keith!” Lance shouted as he narrowly dodged another blast.

“But we can use whatever’s in the cargo hold!”

“Keith, we don’t have time,” Pidge said. “I don’t know how long it will take to figure out the locking mechanism on the bay doors, and we can’t - ”

“Then forget the locking mechanism, you can get through the doors by force!”

“If we wreck the doors or the cargo bay, we’ll no doubt also destroy the cargo,” said Shiro.

“If you’re careful about where you hit, there will be enough left intact to at least get something! Bring one of the Lions close enough, and - ”

“Even if that is the case, they’ve got weapons mounted right outside the cargo bay,” Lance pointed out. “You try to get into it, you’ll get shot down easy.”

“Not if you’re fast and you dodge!”

“Enough!” Allura said firmly. “We’re cutting our losses now, and that’s that. This is not up for debate.”

Keith let out a growl of frustration, and Lance heard a thump in the comms before Coran said, “Keith, where are you - ?” He paused, then, “Think he left to cool down.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Shiro said. “We’re at Green, boarding her now. Allura, ETA?”

“Within the dobosh,” she answered.

“On the bright side, least this wasn’t a total wash,” Pidge said. “Managed to get those transport records opened up before the alarm sounded, so I’ve got coordinates on hand now.”

“Those coordinates certainly would have been more helpful if we’d been able to maintain stealth, but I suppose they’re better than nothing,” Allura said. “We’ll have to - ” She stopped as a beeping sounded over the comms, followed by a thoughtful “Hm” from Coran. “Coran?” she asked. “What was that?”

“Erm, nothing, princess,” Coran answered.

“Coran - ”

“Allura, we’ve got visual on you and Black!” Shiro interrupted. “Moving in for transfer now.”

“Right, right,” Allura said.

“Feel free to hurry,” Lance said as Red sent another blast of flame toward the ship, “Sooner we get that wormhole opened, the better.”

“We’re all more than aware of that, Lance,” Allura said.

“Hey, guys? Looks like they have reinforcement coming in,” Hunk said.

“Quiznak, you’re kidding me!” Allura said. “What are we looking at here?”

“Just a small cruiser on my six o’clock, but I don’t know if more are intending to follow.”

“You and Lance hurry and take care of them.”

“On it,” Lance said, moving Red so that Yellow was blocking the ship from her before turning to face the new threat.

Just as he was preparing a beam, though, his comm crackled and Keith’s voice sounded into his ear. “Wait, wait, don’t shoot, that’s me!”

“Keith?!” Lance cried. “You’re their reinforcements?!”

“Wha - no! This is one of the castle’s cruisers!”

“Keith,” Allura snapped. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Saving the stupid mission, what’s it look like I’m doing?” Keith shot back.

“You were supposed to stay on the bridge with Coran!”

“Whoops,” Keith said drily. “Guess I forgot. Lance, on your eleven.”

“On my - hey!” Lance yelped, veering Red away as Keith sped by mere inches from her port flank. “Watch where you’re flying!”

“I know what I’m doing, Lance,” Keith growled.

“Like fuck you do,” Lance muttered as he turned to watch Keith speeding straight toward the ship. “Hey dumbass, you do realize that’s where the lasers are coming from, right?!”

“I’m aware,” Keith answered, dodging one even as they spoke, not letting up on his speed for a moment.

“I’m heading back toward the castle, wormhole to follow shortly,” Allura said. “What exactly are you - ?”

“I told you,” Keith said, “You wanna get into that cargo bay, you gotta use force.”

“Keith, you’re gonna get shot down before you get within a mile of that cargo!” Lance shouted.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you - oh, for the love of - ” He hastily turned Red to fire at the turret that had been aiming for Keith’s cruiser. “See?! That thing just almost took you out!”

“But it didn’t!”

“Yeah, and you got me to thank for that! Now would you just - ” A crash echoed over the comms, and Lance’s jaw dropped as Keith rammed diagonally right into the exterior cargo hold door, leaving a massive dent in its wake.

“Keith!” Shiro shouted. “Stop that, you’re going to wind up hurt!”

“I already said I know what I’m doing,” Keith said. He started making a wide turn away from the ship, getting back into position to start careening toward it again.

“I hope you’re aware that the castle’s healing pods aren’t quite as good at healing corpses,” Allura said.

“Noted,” Keith replied, right before another crash, louder still than the one before it, and this time Keith’s cruiser managed to get through the cargo bay door, the tail end of the ship left sticking out of the vaguely cruiser-shaped hole in the metal.

“... Keith?” Shiro said. “Keith, come in! Keith!”

“Oh my God, is Keith dead?!” Hunk squeaked out.

“I’m fine,” Keith groaned. “Just… just a little winded.”

“Keith, are you hurt?” Shiro asked.

“I’m disemarking for a moment.”

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

“Hang on, there’s - shit,” Keith spat. Blasts started coming through the comms, and when Lance squinted, he could see small flashes of light in the edges of the hole not currently blocked by the cruiser. “What the hell’s going on in there?” Lance asked.

“I don’t think the cargo hold likes visitors…” Keith said.

“Then get the fuck out of there!” Pidge shouted. “Guess the locking mechanism’s not the only security on that cargo.”

“I know, I’m going, I’m going,” Keith said, and a few ticks later, the cruiser moved, backing out of the cargo door. A couple of small laser blasts followed him out, narrowly missing the cockpit.

As the cruiser made it out of the ship and started moving away, Lance kept half an eye on it. The vehicle didn’t look to be in the same shape it had been before its crash - only natural, he supposed - and Keith was no longer flying nearly as smoothly as before. The cruiser kept slowing and speeding, and repeatedly lurched to the side before being pulled back onto its course.

“Keith, I don’t think you’re ship’s in a good state to be in battle right now,” Shiro said over the comms before Lance could say anything. Seems he wasn’t the only one who noticed the erratic flying.

“It’s nothing,” Keith replied. “Just some dents.”

“It looks like a hell of a lot more than some dents. If you can’t fly it - ”

“I can fly it just fine, it’s just a little - ” He broke off to let out a small cry as a shot from the Galra ship caught his starboard wing, leaving him spinning out for a few ticks before managing to find equilibrium again.

“Just some dents, huh?” Pidge asked.

Keith was silent for a moment before hesitantly replying, “I, uh… I might need some help.”

“I’ve got him,” Lance said, resisting the urge to tear his eyes away from the battle long enough to roll them. “Hunk, cover me.”

“Roger that,” Hunk said. Yellow made a wide turn to fly between Red and the Galra ship, and Lance sped to where Keith’s little cruiser floated to scoop him up into Red’s mouth.

“Thanks,” Keith grunted.

“Uh-huh,” said Lance. “Now, what have we learned today about crashing ourselves into bigger ships and expecting to fly off unscathed afterward?”

“That you’re too chickenshit to try it?” Keith asked, his tone gratingly innocent. Lance scowled and grabbed a joystick on the dash to make Red shake her head back and forth. “Hey!” Keith yelped. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, Red had an itch,” Lance said.

“The lions don’t get itches.”

“And you would know that how, exactly?”

Keith went quiet, and Lance had to grimace to himself a little. Admittedly, that remark had been a bit of a low blow. He opened his mouth with the intent to say as much, but lost his trail of thought when the castle’s wormhole opened up in the sky before him.

“All right team, moving out,” Shiro said, and Black led the way through the wormhole, Red and her catch bringing up the rear.

The universe around Lance went eerily quiet as it always did when they went through a wormhole, that sudden transition away from the noise of battle always leaving a ringing in his ears. The silence was soon relieved by a buzz of conversation on the comms, appraising what they’d gotten from that mission and asking what was to be done next.

“Keith, are you going to need a pod?” Shiro asked as Lance neared Red’s hangar.

“Uh, hard to say,” Keith replied. “Think my ship’s more banged up than me, to be honest.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to check just to make sure. Coran?”

“Right-oh, Number One,” Coran said. “I’ll meet you boys in the hangar!”

“Thanks,” Keith grunted right as Red touched down. Lance lowered Keith’s cruiser to the floor delicately, taking care not to jostle it as a silent apology for knocking him around earlier.

Keith was struggling out of the cruiser as Lance descended from Red’s jaw, and the latter let out a low whistle at the state of the smaller vehicle now that he could get a better look at it. A chunk of the starboard wing had been torn off from that blast it had taken, and the crash had left the forward bulkhead half caved in. “Damn,” Lance said, “If this is what you consider ‘dented’, I’d hate to see your idea of a wreck.”

“It’s… probably mostly cosmetic damage,” Keith said, and Lance turned to him. This was also first time getting a look at Keith, since their communication had been entirely over the comms rather than any video feed, and Lance raised his brow at the other’s appearance. Keith had at some point outfitted himself in a thick, boxy armor and helmet, silvery-white save for pale blue accents on the joints and above the visor, a color scheme Lance recognized as that belonging to the old Altean military uniforms in the castle’s storage. Keith finished exiting the ship fully, pale face grimacing as he planted himself on the metal floor of the hangar. His left arm was tucked into his abdomen, his right arm wrapped around it, and he tilted as he found his footing.

Lance frowned. “Your ability to assess your ship’s damage doesn’t give me much faith in your whole ‘I don’t need a pod’ thing.” Keith just sighed.

The door to Red’s hangar opened then with its electronic whir, and Coran marched in with an authoritative stride. “All right, let’s see what the damage - good gracious!” he said as he approached and got a look at the ship. “That looks like - ”

“Yeah, I know,” Keith said. “I’m sorry. It can be repaired though, right?”

“Nothing’s ever beyond repair,” Coran replied. “But it certainly won’t be a quick job.” He tutted as he stepped in to examine the ship more closely. “You’ve got Hunk and my work cut out for us, haven’t you.”

“Sorry,” Keith said again.

“Well, what’s done is done.” He shook his head before turning back to Keith. “Now, boy, this ship’s not the only thing that took a beating, correct?” He gestured toward Keith’s abdomen. “Come now, let the Coranic have a look.”

Keith slowly moved his arm away, and Lance winced when the left hand came away covered in a splattering of scarlet. Coran pounced immediately, tutting away as he moved Keith’s arms aside and examined the injury himself, so Lance had to step around and crane his neck to see the blood seeping through a seam in the plackart.

“Dear dear,” Coran said. “I assume this was from that little crash?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Keith said. “Kinda wound up thrown into some dented part of the ship’s dashboard. I, uh… there was a little, um, I felt a crack.”

“A rib may have broken through the skin,” Coran remarked. “Let’s see about getting this armor removed, yes?”

“Is everything all right?” a voice called. Lance looked up to see the others at the entrance to the hangar. Shiro was at the front of the group, making his way briskly toward them, and he hadn’t even so much as removed his helmet before coming to check the damage, just having rolled up the visor instead. “Keith, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Keith answered as Shiro stepped in to hover over him at Keith’s side. The others, as they joined, hung back, giving Keith some space.

“Okay, my ass,” Shiro said. “You’re bleeding.”

“Well, I’ve had worse,” Keith said. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve ever crashed a ship.” He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked a breath between his teeth as Shiro carefully peeled the chestplate from him. “And this one wasn’t even so bad. Yeah, I got thrown, but - but normally I hold up better than this, I swear.”

“Where did you get that armor?” Allura asked, frowning at the chestplate.

“Uh, in the armory?”

“Why did you select this armor?”

“It - it looked like it would fit? Why?”

“Because, this is infantry armor,” Allura answered. “It’s no wonder you got hurt. This armor’s not designed to hold against the sort of impact that would come from a full-bodied high-speed collision.” She lifted her gaze from the armor to Keith’s face, eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”

“Good,” Keith muttered. “‘Bout time I got some good luck.” He gasped as Shiro gently probed at the underarmor an inch above the spot where the skin had broken.

“Definitely going to need a pod,” Shiro said grimly. “Keith, honestly, you gave us all a scare with that stunt of yours. If you want to go on missions with the team, you can’t just - ”

“Hey, that stunt got us quintessence, didn’t it?” Keith snapped.

The others paused, all holding still and staring at Keith in silence. “Um… what?” Shiro said.

“The quintessence. Snatched some before whatever security was in the cargo hold started firing on me. It’s in the cockpit.”

Immediately Allura turned and climbed onto the ship, clambering into the cockpit and stretching past the caved-in parts only to soon slide back out. Her eyes were wide as she gazed at the two clear tubes in her hand, each filled nearly to the top with a glowing, pale-yellow liquid.

“Well,” Shiro said softly. “I’ll be damned.”

“You’re welcome,” Keith said flatly.

Allura sighed. “Keith, regardless of whether or not you managed to - ”

“So sorry to interrupt, princess,” Coran said. “I’m in total agreement that Keith’s in need of a nice long lecture, but perhaps it ought to be saved until after he’s had his time in the pod? Shouldn’t be more than a varga or two.”

“Fine,” Allura said. “Get healed up, then we can discuss your… conduct. I’ll take charge of these in the meantime.” She gestured with a tilt of her head toward the vials of quintessence in her arms.

Keith nodded to her as Shiro slid his arm around Keith’s shoulders in preparation to walk him to the med bay. “Coran and I will get that taken care of,” Shiro said. “You three, go ahead and wind down; we can debrief once Keith’s out of the pod.”

The others nodded, and the group made their way out of the hangar. Beyond the door, they separated, Allura off to the bridge, Shiro and Coran balancing Keith between them en route to the med bay, and the rest heading off to the living quarters.

“All right, I’m just gonna say it,” Lance said as soon as Keith was out of earshot. “Anyone else starting to think New Guy is kind of an asshole?”

“Maybe a little bit,” Pidge said with a shrug. “But even you have to admit, he was pretty badass out there today.”

“Badasshole,” Hunk commented, and, at the looks the other two sent him, added, “Sorry, continue.”

“I’m just saying,” Lance said. “Hey, you guys don’t think Allura and Shiro are actually going to let Keith start joining us on missions and stuff, do you? I mean, yeah, he’s all eager for it, and okay, sure, he can pilot, but after that crap he was pulling, can’t imagine he’s much when it comes to, say, following orders and, oh, not almost killing himself.”

“Hard to say,” Pidge replied. They turned the corner into the hallway housing their bedrooms. “Guess it’ll be their call. If nothing else, having him along for missions will definitely make them, um… exciting.”

Lance rolled his eyes as he made his way to his own bedroom. “And isn’t that just what Voltron needs,” he said drily as he opened the door. “More excitement.”

#vldgen #vld fic #voltron fic #keith #vld keith #my writing #fic: remember me

47 notes · View notes

l8rl0ser · 7 years

Text

Part ONE// Hate How You Made Me Feel/ Ashton Irwin

Requested : No, You’re the younger sister of Calum Hood, and don’t have a really good past with him only because of your small mutual crush with his older friend Ashton Irwin. After months without Calum or his friends, they return home for good, how will you adjust?

Word Count : 3k+

A/N : Okay this is my first part of my first story/series/ etc I know that the description has a lot of Calum but i swear this is an Ashton series.. I hope you all enjoy it ! And if you could reblog so more people could possibly enjoy. Thank you for reading loves, and if this first part gets some attention then I will continue with the story.

Parts : one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

I sit in front of my vanity brushing my longish dark brown hair, that matches my dark brown eyes that had hidden golden flecks within them, the two things I always acknowledge when I sit in front of this mirror always being reminded that i'm just a simple plain Jane. Whereas my parents only acknowledge that I'm still breathing and my grades are straight A’s.

I rise up from my seat in front of the mirror and I slowly walk over to my closet, I flip through my choices and settle on a black skirt that settles a little above my knees with a cream colored shirt and a burgundy cashmere scarf. I push my headband a little farther back, and grab my tan Ralph Lauren tote along with my french textbook.

Hurrying down the stairs so I can try and get at least five minutes of breakfast with my parents before they leave to work, Monday mornings I always look forward to because that's the only time I really see my parents.

“Y/n darling please don't run down the stairs in socks, Henry and I would hate to see you slip and fall under our care.” My maid, Leslie calls. She has been there for me since I was a kid, and she’s one of my best friends. Henry is my parents butler, but he mainly drives my friends and I around and makes sure I'm happy. I smile at Leslie and slow my pace earning a wide toothy grin from her. Once i reach the bottom of the steps she steps closer to me whispering in my ear, “Your father has to travel to Scotland and he won't be back till next month, and your mother will be accompanying him as well. Would you like me to call you in tardy so you won't get into trouble?” She asks, I frown at the news I had just received, my parents were always gone. Hell my father had just got back from London!

“Yes please, thank you Leslie.” I whisper before walking through the long hall that leads to the dining room. The first thing I see is my father at the end of the table, my mom with him. Theyre both reading the papers while having their morning cup of coffee. “Hi mum, dad.” I chirped while taking a seat in the mahogany chair across from my dad. Before I have the chance, Henry appears behind me to push in my chair. I smile at him as he returns the gesture.

“Oh, good morning Y/n dear, how are the grades?” My father questions without looking up from his stack of papers. Leslie rushes in and places a small cup of tea in front of me and slowly pours in the cream until I ask her to stop, she disappears behind the door that leads into the kitchen only to return with a piece of bread lightly toasted with apple butter jam, my favorite.

“Oh you know all A’s same old same old.” I sigh while picking up my mug taking a short sip of tea. My mum places down her stack of papers and folds her hands over them and turns her head my way. People say I look just like my mother when she was my age, but I just don't see it. Her face is very thin and her cheekbones are far more prominent than mine. Her hair is dark brown like mine but hers sweeps just above her shoulders whereas mine are a little past my shoulders. Her eyes are more almond shaped due to her asian roots and they are chocolatey brown , when I had received my father's big round eyes but my eye color was exactly like my mother's. My cheeks were big but not too big, just puffy?

“Y/n.” My mum said snapping me out of my thinking phase, i set down my cup and look at her a smile added to my face.

“Yes mum?”

“Your father and I will be going to Scotland for the remainder of the month and you will be here. We recharged your card and made sure that Henry will be driving you to and from school and cheer. Leslie will be caring for you and your math tutor will be coming every Wednesday from three to four, and your french tutor will be coming every Sunday from three to four as well.” She says, finishing with a smile almost like she is pleased with herself by setting up my schedule since she won't be here to remind me about it, not like she ever is. I force a smile at her trying not to cry at the table, she only takes a long sip of coffee in return.

“Won't you be late to second bell? Come on Y/n.” Henry calls from the hall.

“Have a good day y/n , we’ll see you in a month.” My father says as he walks over to place a kiss on my cheek before walking into the kitchen disappearing. I nod at his words walking slowly into the hall following Henry into the front yard only to climb into our matte grey Tesla model s. I climb into the back seat and buckle in, right after I pull my phone from my tote and text my friend Lacey.

“Parents back on business trip, in need for emergency sleepover with tons of ice cream.”

I wait for Lacey to reply, scrolling through my twitter and instagram liking and retweeting a few things until my phone buzzes in my small hand.

“Awe I'm sorry doll, maybe after practice Henry can take us out to buy snacks and movies yeah?” I smile at her reply, she never fails to let me down. I type a quick reply only to look up and see that I was at school.

“Alright miss I’ll see you at five today, with a smile on your face.” Henry saws looking at me using the mirror.

“Alright Henry, is it okay if Lacey comes over tonight and maybe we can get ice cream and movies?” I ask while stepping out of the car, I walk up to the front window as Henry rolls it down.

“That's fine. Have a good day.”

“You too.” I wave to Henry as he drives away and I turn back to my school. Nobody is in the front so I slowly make my way to the steps only for some jerk on a motorcycle comes right beside me causing me to panic and drop my text book and phone.

“Seriously?” I ask the person staring at me while I pick up my things, I quickly look over my phone sighing in relief that is has no cracks, and reach down to pick up my textbook only to bump hands with the rider.

“Sorry, I didn't think that you would freak out princess.” He says with an accent, Australian maybe, yet he's so familiar? Passing me my book then takes off his helmet. “I'm Luke.” He says while holding out a hand. I look at him, blonde messy hair that was a little below his ear, nice blue eyes, and a lip ring. Everything about him was just screaming out trouble to me yet he looked vaguely familiar. I quickly grab my book from him and begin to walk up the stairs to the gates of my school. “I never got your name princess!” He shouts behind my only for me to stop and turn back around.

“You can't park your bike there, and my name isn't princess.” I say quickly turning back around and walking through the gates so I can get to my second period.

“And he just called you princess? Like just out of the blue?” Lacey asks while taking a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into her mouth. Unlike me, Lacey's hair was rather long, she had red hair that just flows down her back, pale skin like no color whatsoever, full pouty lips, and dark brown eyes just like mine.

“Yup, and the weird thing is, I've never seen him around he’s probably like new or something.” I reply taking a spoonful of my mint chip ice cream into my mouth. Lacey nodded her head along with my statement agreeing with me. I continue to scoop my ice cream around the edges leaving a lump in the middle, causing Lacey to giggle at the act.

“Quit laughing at me.” I frown only causing the both of us to erupt into a fit of laughter.

“Y/n!” Leslie calls from downstairs, I can't make out if it's urgent or she's upset by something, Lacey and I scramble up from the bed and race down the stairs shoving each other as we go down each wooden step.

“Slow down girls.” Henry says as he's walking in with the mail in his hands. We giggle and look around for Leslie, she wasn't in the front room, the study, or the kitchen. “Outside.” Henry says as he looks upon our confused reactions, Lacey and I rush out to the front to see Leslie kneeling beside a bed of roses that she had been trying to grow for weeks now.

“Yes Leslie?” I ask walking up to her, taking a spot to her right kneeling down beside her. Lacey following.

“A rose finally grew! Look how pretty.” Leslie points at the rose, it was quite tiny but if it made Leslie happy then I'm happy too.

“That's great Leslie, how about we all go inside and get something to drink?” I ask concerned now, Leslie always overworked herself and tried to make sure everyone was pleased. I've caught her before passed out in the garden when she was first beginning the hobby of gardening.

“I uh- why don't you help me tend to this rose?” Leslie stutters. I stand up confused on what was going on, Leslie rarely ever hid anything from me and last time I checked the worst news of today has already passed.

“Leslie what's going on?” I ask her, helping her up onto her feet.

“Nothing sweetheart, I just um, want to stay out here with you!” She finishes with the fakers smile I've ever seen, something was definitely up. I shot Lacey a quick glance and she nodded her head. We turned back to Leslie only to turn around and run inside the house.

“What is Leslie hiding Henry?!” I shouted kicking off my shoes as I kept running not looking at where I was going because once I managed to get one Van off I ran into something, well someone.

“I see you still run around recklessly.” An all too familiar voice says above my head. I roll my eyes and look up to see my older brother. He's not even that much older, he's in one grade above me as well as one year older. I groan at the sight of him, he was always leaving just like our parents and he'd come back for a bit, and once I'd get comfortable again he'd leave. We looked exactly alike only thing is he has blonde highlights all of a sudden.

“Mums going to kill you for doing that to your hair Calum.” I roll my eyes, walking around him to reach Lacey.

“Mums never home, and I don't get a hug or a hey?” He questions waving at Lacey in the process. I huff at the comment he had just made and ran up to my room Lacey following closely behind. I slammed my door shut and threw myself onto my bed face first and let out a long scream.

“A minute and fifteen seconds. New record.” Lacey giggles as I lift my head up. I roll my eyes and go to grab the probably melted mint ice cream from earlier. “Not to ruin your mood but Liam has a soccer ceremony and I have to be there for my baby brother. I'm sorry Y/n.” Lacey sighs pulling me into a tight hug.

I mumble a short ‘it's fine’ before she grabs her things and departs from my room, bumping into Calum in the process. Great, now I have to deal with my brother again until he leaves, and honestly I'm not too sure if I would like him to stay or leave.

“Knock knock.” Calum says pushing my door open slightly, seeing that I'm dressed he steps in and takes a seat on the edge of my bed as I angrily scoop and shove large spoonfuls of ice cream into my mouth.

“I didn't even say you could come in.” I mumble before eating another spoonful my gaze focused on the front of his hair, I'm not entirely sure if mum would be pissed when she sees it, but she definitely wouldn't let it go unnoticed.

“I didn't ask, and I came to comfort you with big brother hugs and good news.” He says with a tone laced with sarcasm, I close up the tub of icy goodness and focus on Calum as I suck on the spoon. I raise my eyebrows in an ‘well what is it?!’ look. Calum chuckles at the sight of me and drags himself closer to me.

“Well I heard about mum and dad and I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you. Good news is, I'm staying for good, I want to finish my junior year and have fun my junior and senior year.” I frown at his words, the boy, my brother was back. Was the bullying going to start again? I've been doing so good and set up a good reputation for myself only for it to possibly crash down.

“Are you happy now?”

“Definitely.” I rolled my eyes placing the spoon onto the tub of ice cream.

“Good, because I want to hear all about your sophomore year.” He smiles as he leans back.

“Well it's going good so far today was irri-” I was silenced mid sentence by Leslie at my door.

“Sorry to interrupt this sweet moment, but someone's at the door for Calum.” She says before walking back down the hall. I turn to Calum and raise an eyebrow.

“Great! You can see the guys again.” He says before pushing himself off my bed, then grabbing my forearm dragging me downstairs with him.

We rush into the front room to see three tall figures standing before us. One of them has crazy red hair, another has long honey blonde curls, and the last an all too familiar face has that blonde quiff from this morning. Then it hit me, Luke Hemmings, Ashton Irwin, and Michael Clifford. I could never forget them, the people who practically made elementary and middle school hell.

I gave more attention to Ashton, he's not a scrawny thirteen year old anymore that I had an innocent crush on. The one who kissed me on a dare, used to comfort me. He was my best friend but now I don't know who I'm staring at. His hair grew a lot since the first time I saw him, it was slightly covering his eyes. He's taller too, he could practically tower over me, he has a new sense of style. He's wearing a Pink Floyd shirt with black skinny jeans and a black bandana. He looks cute, but he's the same person from before.

“Y/n this is Michael, Ashton, and Luke. Guys this is y/n my baby sister remember her?” Calum beams pleased with himself as I snap out of my thinking process. I wave at them sheepishly before turning quickly on my heel to run into the kitchen. I hear heavy footsteps behind me most likely Calum, I turn and face my older brother the grin he had just worn moments ago has faded. I walk around him and stand on my tiptoes to reach a glass from the cupboard, only for Calum to grab me a glass.

“Two things, one get a longer skirt that one's too short, two what's wrong?” I roll my eyes at his statement and make a beeline to the fridge to grab the pitcher of water and filled my glass.

“Nothing is wrong, I've already reconnected with your blonde giraffe today, and before they came in ruining my talk with you, I was going to say that I met him and he scared me with his damn motorcycle and caused me to drop my things.” I sigh taking a long sip of water as the boy known as Ashton walked into the kitchen. I avert my eyes away from him and focus on the clock that my mum had bought in an antique shop last year, it's hideous.

“Sorry if I interrupted anything but I was wondering could I get some water or something please?” Ashton asked sweetly, I looked up at him and his eyes flickered to mine, feeling the heat rush up to my cheeks I quickly turned and bumped into the fridge in my attempt to grab the pitcher again for Ashton, but fails miserably and ended up spilling my water all over the front of my cream shirt.

“Well that's unfortunate.” I heard Ashton mumble only making me feel pathetic.

“Fucking shit.” I swore under my breath. I grabbed the pitcher like I originally planned and passed it to Ashton before running out of the kitchen.

“What about the water Y/n?!” I hear Calum yell, I was halfway up the stairs already.

“I dunno Calum. Your turn to clean after months of not being home!” I yelled back before running into my room and slamming the door behind me, this time not forgetting to lock it behind me.

I quickly strip out of my shirt and replace it with one of Calum's Greenday singlets that I stole years ago. After that I threw off my skirt and just walked around in the shirt since it reached my knees.

After what seemed like hours of going between apps and shopping online, I finally exit my room quietly and tiptoed downstairs to go into the kitchen for an apple or something to fill my empty stomach. There's Chinese food containers on top of the counter and I groan at the sight, even if mum and dad weren't here, and Leslie and Henry tend to us Leslie won't put up with his bullshit. I quickly pack up the leftover food and put it away and wipe down the counter. After I grab my container of pineapple spears from the fridge along with a fork I turn around to almost collide with the honey curly headed boy from earlier.

“Fucking shit! You can't do that what the hell?” I yelp in fear.

“Sorry Calum and I heard a noise and I came to see what it was.” He apologized, his accent was adorable to me but it doesn't cover up what I felt earlier.

"Well that's unfortunate that I startled you both. Goodnight." I say waiting for him to notice the significance of what I had just said. "Wha- oh." He replies biting his lip, his gaze going from my eyes to the floor only to come back up to my eyes, this time he wore a smirk. "What?" I ask , about ready to just walk back up to my room and leave him here alone in the kitchen. "I don't think Calum would appreciate you wearing just a shirt around the house y/n." He replied with a voice like silk. I felt my breath hitch as I noticed that I was only wearing a shirt in front of the tall, adorable yet rude boy. "Whatever." I mumble before walking back up to my room. I walk in and lock the door behind myself. All I know now is that, since Calum is back my world is going to be flipped upside down.

#CALUM HOOD #ashton irwin #5SOS #5sauce #ASHTON IRWIN CRUSH #CALUM HOOD SISTER #5SOS IMAGINE #michael clifford #luke hemmings

44 notes · View notes

theliberaltony · 6 years

Link

via FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): For the last several months, former President Barack Obama has been busy giving advice to 2020 Democratic contenders. He hasn’t endorsed anyone (and may never do so), but who do we think is best positioned to be the next “Obama candidate”? And, more importantly, do we think what worked for Obama in 2008 would work for a 2020 candidate?

julia_azari (Julia Azari, political science professor at Marquette University and FiveThirtyEight contributor): Obama ran in 2008 as (kind of) an outsider but not a populist. But the current crop of candidates isn’t very well-positioned to make outsider claims, as the FiveThirtyEight Politics podcast crew pointed out. Instead, they’re better poised to talk about economic populism.

So that’s a big difference that immediately jumped out to me.

sarahf: Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders are both pushing populist economic policies this cycle. But I’d argue that neither is really in the mold of Obama.

It’s also not clear to me, given that the economy is pretty good right now, how effective a rallying cry it’ll be for 2020. I think there’s an opening for someone like Cory Booker, who’s running on a message of love (which is reminiscent of Obama’s message of hope and change in 2008).

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): I tend to think Beto O’Rourke (if he decides to run) and Booker will end up running Obama-like campaigns, appealing to voters with personas as much as their policy agendas. I would put Kamala Harris in this group as well.

Granted, Booker is an insider, not an outsider, but I don’t know how much of an outsider Obama really was — he was a sitting senator in 2008. I do think Booker and Obama share broad themes of trying to unite the country.

O’Rourke also seems to have some of that Obama-like charisma — people are begging him to run for president, but I suspect they don’t know a lot about his record.

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): Not to interrupt but are we … underestimating how much Obama was about personality rather than policy in 2008? Not that he isn’t a substantive guy. But I’m old enough to remember the 2008 primaries. And there were not a hell of a lot of rigorous debates over policy.

julia_azari: That’s fair, Nate. But it’s complicated. Obama’s bid, especially against Hillary Clinton, was about personality. Not a ton of policy difference there.

But his presidency was a lot of reacting to big issues and problems — the economy, of course, but also the Arab Spring. And police violence against unarmed African-Americans became a major national issue.

So when we ask about Obama’s legacy, are we asking about his 2008 run or his presidency?

sarahf: That’s a good point, Julia. If we look at Obama’s presidency, I’d argue that parts of the Democratic Party don’t want someone who replicates Obama’s more consensus-based approach. Many, especially on the Left, wish he’d gone farther on issues, which is why we’re debating “Medicare-for-all” right now and not, say, how to save the Affordable Care Act.

perry: I think it’s clear that Sanders and Warren are not running in the Obama mold.

They can’t say that — because Obama is so popular among Democrats, and Sanders did not do well in 2016 with black voters, who both love Obama and are an important constituency in the party. But privately, the Sanders supporters I talk to think Obama was a fine but underwhelming president.

natesilver: Publicly, there are a VERY few vocal Bernie supporters who think Obama was a bad president. And it’s probably a minority of Sanders supporters who think that, but it’s still out there.

julia_azari: So I was thinking about this when I read Nate’s piece about the “five corners” of the Democratic primary. The piece is right that Obama won with black voters, Latino voters and young voters — and that the Left didn’t really have a candidate in 2008. But I am also not sure the Left was even a thing in 2008.

It really took Warren, Sanders and the Occupy movement, along with slow economic recovery and some activism around issues of racial marginalization (like Black Lives Matter), to shape the Left as we know it.

perry: Also, Dan Pfeiffer, a former Obama adviser, has been encouraging Beto O’Rourke to get into the race. David Axelrod, another former Obama advisers, has been praising Pete Buttigieg, who has also gotten praise from Obama himself. (How many mayors are getting shout-outs from Obama?) So that gives you some sense of how people who were deeply involved in Obama’s 2008 campaign see the 2020 race.

natesilver: Yeah, the Obama people themselves are quite pro-Beto. Especially the Obama people who didn’t move on to work for the Hillary Clinton campaign in some capacity.

perry: Obama got some credit from liberal activists in 2008 for being opposed to the Iraq War, but I don’t think the Left was as organized then.

And it didn’t have obvious champions who were strong candidates. Now, the Left has Warren, Sanders and other candidates who are taking fairly liberal positions (like Harris).

julia_azari: I’d call Beto and Buttigieg the closest we have to “outsiders” in the race. Well, them and Tulsi Gabbard.

natesilver: Gabbard and Obama both have the Hawaii thing going on. Is she the new Obama?

perry: I agree with the idea that Beto is something of an outsider. He was in Congress, but I feel like he barely registered there. I literally don’t think I have ever covered him doing anything important on Capitol Hill.

sarahf: It’s interesting that no one is connecting Obama and Amy Klobuchar. Is it because she’s too much of a Washington insider?

natesilver: Both Klobuchar and Obama are very Midwestern, I say as someone from the Midwest.

perry: She is not particularly charismatic or inspiring. Yes, we have a FiveThirtyEight measurement for that :)

julia_azari: Is being charismatic an important part of Obama’s legacy?

natesilver: With Klobuchar, the problem is that she goes too far in the direction of pragmatism, whereas Obama tried (and often succeeded) to have it both ways in terms of projecting both pragmatism and idealism.

perry: Agree.

Obama was maybe center-left on policy, but his message was never really, “We can’t do this” — which is what Klobuchar keeps saying about a lot of big Democratic initiatives. She is not exactly hope and change. She is pragmatism. She even uses the phrase “pragmatic progressive” to describe herself.

julia_azari: A great example of this is the comment she made at a CNN townhall this week about the idea of free college for everyone. After saying she was against it, Klobuchar said: “If I was a magic genie and could give that to everyone and we could afford it, I would.” That was on every podcast I listened to this morning.

Another thing I’ve been thinking about that I haven’t seen in any of the candidates is that Obama had this very strong sense of history when he talked, particularly about race. He talked a fair amount about founding ideals. Because the current moment feels so pressing and Trump gives Democratic hopefuls such an obvious foil, I don’t have the sense that this is happening as much this time around.

natesilver: 2007-08 was fairly pressing too, though. With the financial crisis unfolding.

perry: I think Warren and Sanders are trying to tell stories and narratives, but about the economy. I don’t know that Booker or Harris can tell the story about race in America through the lens of being a black person in a compelling way, because Obama has done that.

I think we are agreeing that being an Obama-like candidate is not necessarily linked to being black. I agree with that to some extent — maybe 85 percent — but I have also watched voters tell Booker, “I like you, you sound like Obama.” And that is certainly related to Booker being black.

natesilver: And that’s one area — the sense of history and how it affected him personally –on which Beto, in particular, falls flat relative to Obama. He’s coming from a fairly privileged upbringing, so his personal “journey” isn’t likely to be all that compelling.

julia_azari: Another question I have is whether those stories will be more important in a crowded field — where differentiation is at a premium — or less important as who the hell can remember anything about anyone?

perry: The narrative that Warren and Sanders are telling is distinct. The other candidates are saying that what is wrong in the U.S. is largely about Trump, but those two are setting themselves apart by saying the villain is the wealthy or the 1 percent. That will matter to voters on the Left.

But Harris, as she was about to start her formal campaign, spoke extensively about her mother. I wonder if that resonated much with voters, with so much else going on in the news. I doubt it.

natesilver: Maybe we’re not talking enough about Booker? His period as mayor of Newark feels a lot like Obama’s time as a community organizer, in terms of how he’s trying to shape his narrative.

One of the things that was relatively distinctive about Obama was that he embraced his urbanness, when presidents typically come from more rural or suburban areas.

Booker has been trying to do the same thing.

perry: I think Booker is obviously in the Obama mold. You could even argue that Obama was in the Booker mold. (Booker was famous first, to some extent.)

julia_azari: But it seems to me like the Booker-Obama comparison is vulnerable to ham-handed comparisons about them both being younger black men.

natesilver: Yeah — if people are looking at race, are they going to think that the Booker-Obama comparison is too on the nose? Like, you want to be Obama-ish or Obama-adjacent, but not too much like Obama.

julia_azari: I also wonder what it means for white men like O’Rourke or Buttigieg to be positioned as the inheritors of the Obama legacy. That seems to me to be a sign of a conscious effort to craft an Obama legacy that’s not about race or identity. (Though Buttigieg is gay, and I don’t want to downplay the significance of that.)

sarahf: So what would it mean then if Joe Biden were to enter the field? He was Obama’s vice president. Does proximity to Obama matter when it comes to being the “Obama candidate”?

perry: I don’t know. I tend to think that Biden’s waiting to make a decision about running is connected to the fact that he will likely not be a big favorite if he gets into the race. I think he assumes (like I do) that lots of people who voted for Obama aren’t going to vote for him.

natesilver: Also, the fact that Obama is meeting with all 73 other Democratic candidates seems like it’s not great news for Biden.

julia_azari: If Biden were to enter the race, it would focus questions on Obama’s legacy, because that would have to be part of Biden’s political story. It would definitely open him up for attack from the other candidates and make the idea of an “Obama candidate” more contested.

perry: I tend to think liberal Democrats in particular will find plenty of ways to attack Biden that will have nothing to do with Obama. Obama was young, something of an outsider and non-white, but Biden is none of those things. It will be easy for other candidates to suggest that they, not Biden, are the “Obama candidate” for 2020.

And I think the answer is intuitive when the question is: Who is more like the “Obama candidate,” Biden or Harris? (Harris.)

sarahf: But how much does it matter if a candidate is like Obama if the goal is to just select someone who can beat Trump?

perry: That’s a good question, but it may overlook how many different groups of people Obama won over. Obama managed to do somewhat well among white, non-college voters in the Midwest and get high turnout among African-Americans.

Is there anyone in this field who can do that?

natesilver: I mean …. maayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyybe Booker? I’m much more bullish on Harris’s chances overall, but Booker has a reputation as being a little bit better as a retail politician.

julia_azari: The question also matters as to Obama’s eventual legacy, which is something that will be of importance to a lot of people — some of whom aren’t even professional presidential scholars!

perry: In some ways, the question of who will be the next Obama is quite relevant to electability considerations.

sarahf: COALITION BUILDING TIME

julia_azari: Yeah, the ability to build a coalition like Obama is the more pressing concern.

And in 2008, Obama did two things in terms of the electoral map that I think are notable: (1) He had a strong showing in the Midwest (he won Wisconsin by 14 percentage points and (2) he made a dent in some Republican areas (North Carolina, Virginia and Indiana).

perry: A 2020 version of Obama’s 2008 victory might be: getting big turnout among Asian, black and Latino voters, flipping Arizona and Georgia blue, nearly winning Texas, and carrying Wisconsin and Michigan, because those states are swingy.

julia_azari: And that’s a continuation, in some ways, of a kind of ad hoc Electoral College strategy, rather than a fundamental change.

sarahf: Or an example of successful coalition-building as you all mentioned. Any last thoughts?

julia_azari: I just want to reiterate that this is an important question about the direction of one of the two major parties and about the legacy of the first African-American president.

(And since I’m writing about it, not at all self-serving!)

natesilver: I do think electability was a pretty big part of the Obama brand in 2008. There was a lot of subtle and not-so-subtle messaging to suggest that he could expand the map more than Hillary Clinton could.

And remember, Obama was very popular in 2008, at least at the start of the campaign, even among independents and some moderate Republicans.

perry: I kind of think the search for the next Obama will end up like the search for the next Bill Clinton (a Southern centrist) that happened from, say, 2001 to 2007 (John Edwards, Mark Warner, etc.). The next great Democratic candidate will be his or her own thing — a person who builds a multiracial coalition (because that’s who the Democrats are), but in a way that is distinct from what Obama did. O’Rourke, Harris and Klobuchar are all distinct from Obama — Warren and Sanders are even more so.

natesilver: It’s hard to win the Democratic primary — or to win the general election as a Democrat — without building a multiracial coalition. Which is why I wonder if Obama isn’t the new normal.

#IFTTT #FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

0 notes

globlenet-blog · 8 years

Text

To Make Golf Fun, Just Add a Nightclub

https://clearwatergolfclub.com/to-make-golf-fun-just-add-a-nightclub/

To Make Golf Fun, Just Add a Nightclub

Its a Friday night at the end of September, when tourism begins to get following the heat of summer time in Scottsdale, Ariz. Several eight twentysomething guys are experiencing the warm evening with an open-air deck, reclining on low couches arranged around a table packed with aluminum bottles of Coors Light. This Is The Way We All Do It throbs from loudspeakers above. A couple of hundred yards away, the sunshine display in the Speaking Stick Resort shimmers in pastel hues of blue, eco-friendly, pink, and crimson. Among the guys grabs a golf club, approaches the patch of artificial turf in which a ball sits awaiting him, and swings, launching it on the low parabola toward Speaking Sticks casino.

He and the buddies are in Topgolf, the driving-range-meets-sports-bar-meets-nightclub thats among the fastest-growing recreational entertainment chains within the U.S. Scenes such as this are happening at 25 areas across the nation tonightpeople eating, watching sports, nodding along to pop songs, and hitting baseballs, all without moving greater than a couple of paces using their beers. The 3-level Scottsdale location comes complete by 8&nbspp.m. waiting for for just one of their 102&nbsphitting bays, because both versions seats eight, is 30 minutes. This, a hostess informs me, is comparatively shortthe previous night, she states, waiting for was as lengthy as three hrs. You will find youngsters with parents, couples on dates, and a minimum of one bachelorette party. Individuals waiting bide time inside a full-service sports bar, consuming margaritas and eating flatbread pizza.

Topgolf awards points in line with the distance and precision of the shot. Landing a ball within the center ring from the farthest hole,185 yards in the hitting bays, nets you 10 points. You get one within the outer ring from the nearest hole, 25 yards away, scores youthree.

Professional photographer: Nathanael Turner for Bloomberg Businessweek

As well as be obvious right now, anybody searching for any good walk spoiled may wish to skip Topgolf. Golf is only the vehicle through which they deliver fun, states Jim Koppenhaver, president of industry consultant Pellucid. It requires away the majority of the barriers to fun from the traditional game. Since 2005 the amount of golfers in the usa has fallen 20&nbsppercent, from 30&nbspmillion to 24&nbspmillion, based on the National Golf Foundation. At Topgolf theres you don’t need to buy clubs, pay dues, or put aside an mid-day to experience a complete 18&nbspholes. Rather, theres the bare pleasure of whacking a ball having a clubplus beer, burgers, and flatscreens set to sports. The approach is less hushed reverence, more Dave &amp Busters with 9-irons.

The very first Topgolf opened up in 2000 in Watford, England, a commuter town northwest based in london. It had been the creation of Dave and Steve Jolliffe, golf-loving twins who embedded radio-frequency identification chips in balls to trace them. They invented a game title to choose the balls, putting holes within the turf, each about 50 ft wide having a flag within the center, for targets. The very best in Topgolf was for target oriented practice.

The organization has since dropped the acronym, however the fundamental game the Jolliffes invented continues to be performed at each Topgolf. In Scottsdale the hostess leads us to some bay around the second deckIve introduced along my father, who, much like me, hasnt been in a course in a long time. The tee faces 215&nbspyards of turf bounded with a internet greater than 150&nbspfeet high. Its pay-by-the-hour$45 during peak occasions only at that venuefor a bay about how big a living room. Each player will get a Topgolf membership card, that the hostess swipes in a touchscreen to begin our time. She explains the fundamental rules: No running to the tee hitting, Happy Gilmore-style. (We’d people doing that, she states.) Just one person at any given time beyond the red line separating the couches in the tee. With no targeting the carts that circle the outfield sweeping up balls. The Ten&nbspholes, varying from 25&nbspyards to 185&nbspyards away, seem like meteor craters. Theres additionally a trench target across the far internet.

Topgolfs rules are generous by design. Any ball that rolls or drops into any hole scores. (You may choose more demanding scoring formats.) The farther away the opening and also the closer the ball involves the flag, the greater points you receive. Each player will get 20&nbspballs per round. After each shot, a screen reports in which the ball arrived, the yardage, and also the points scored. Once we play, a waiter comes by to consider our order of lagers, chips and guacamole, Zoysia wings, then one known as bacon mac n cheese spring rolls. A Television shows late-season baseball.

Among the hitting bays, having a bar waiting area without anyone’s knowledge.

Professional photographer: Nathanael Turner for Bloomberg Businessweek

The initial Watford venue, and 2 more that opened up in England after it, didn’t have flatscreen TVs with no music. There is beer, pub food, along with a high-tech method to practice golf. Erik Anderson, founding father of private equity finance fund WestRiver Group and ceo of Topgolf Entertainment Group, made the decision to create the concept stateside in 2005. He compensated a licensing fee to Topgolfs British proprietors and opened up the very first U.S. venue, in Alexandria, Veterans administration., in August of this year locations in Dallas and suburban Chicago adopted in 2007. These were still relatively modest: tees on two levels having a bucket of balls along with a couple of deck chairs each and every. Regardless of the recession and golfs speeding up decline, people came and spent. Through the finish of 2008 the organization had almost 700&nbspvisitors each day at its U.S. venues.

In ’09, Anderson and several U.S. investors bought Topgolfs technology to have an undisclosed fee and made the decision to overhaul the ground arrange for future locations. They added another level, tripling how big each venue to 65,000&nbspsquare&nbspfeet replaced the buckets with motion-sensing ball dispensers and, inside a key change, put TVs and loungeseffectively, the whole sports bar experienceat each bay. We recognized this really was a built-in entertainment and sports experience, Anderson states.

The very first new-generation venue opened up in Allen, Texas, north of Dallas, this year. Within days there have been waits to obtain a bay on the Saturday night. Whenever a Houston location opened up the year after, there have been waits from the first day. Previously 5 years, Topgolf has opened up 23&nbspvenues, over fifty percent of these forever of 2015. A flagship in Vegas, featuring two pools, a concert hall, and views from the Strip, opened up in May. In September the organization arranged $275&nbspmillion in financing to construct seven to ten locations annually. (Each costs $20&nbspmillion to $25&nbspmillion to spread out.) We believe theres room for 100 approximately within the U.S. as well as an equal amount globally, Anderson states, though apart from the initial locations, the organization hasnt yet opened up any outdoors the U.S. Revenue this past year involved $300&nbspmillion this season it will likely be in regards to a half-billion dollars. Topgolfs success has inspired competitors. FlyingTee opened up in Tulsa captured, supplying a similar mixture of food, drink, and golf-as-arcade-game.

Each new Topgolf employs about 450&nbsppeople, about 30&nbsppercent of these full-time. To locate individuals who can promote its party vibe, Topgolf has produced a custom interview format. In the Dallas venue, where I sitting in on the recruiting event in September, hopefuls are welcomed by a number of employees, known as the Tee-Up Crew, dolled up in oversize shades and leis and waving balloons and foam fingers. Like a DJ works through hip-hop hits Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae), Turn Lower for which, and Cupid Shuffle, one older applicant, a guy in khakis along with a white-colored golf shirt, hovers around the fringe of the circle gamely attempting to dance combined with the others.

The 60 approximately people looking for work, mostly twentysomethings and teenagers, seem like San Antonioa mixture of white-colored, black, and Latino. The typical chronilogical age of a Topgolf worker is all about 27, states Amber Weiss, the companys mind of talent acquisition and compensation. The awkward dance-along belongs to a carefully staged procedure that includes group brainstorming as well as an X-factor audition: 90&nbspseconds for that applicant to complete or say whatever he wants before a panel of three. Were together for 3 hrs, Weiss states. Were searching for behaviors throughout that point. How can they treat one another? Exactly what do they are doing once they dont think theyre being viewed? She states they divide applicants into three groups: rock stars, zombies (applicants who just feel the motions), and skunks (individuals who won’t engage).

In Scottsdale, the night time is simply getting began. Because the DJ plays Worthwhile, a guy in a bay to the left steps over the tee line to face behind his date which help her together with her formits from the rules, however the staff appears unconcerned. On the right would be the bachelorettes. One lady lines up four balls, smacks them one to another, and shouts, Enter there! Alongside them may be the table of youthful dudes, certainly one of whom looks like it’s too drunk for connecting together with his swings. Strike one! shouts a buddy. He whiffs again. Strike two! To prevent a strikeout, he will get lower on his stomach and uses the club just like a pool cue to poke the ball from the tee.

Good Walks Spoiled: Five Courses That Tee Off on Tradition* *Based on the National Course Proprietors Association

Illustrator: Jay Daniel Wright

Bluejack National Club &amp Community Montgomery, Texas, bluejacknational.com Youll will never need to influence the children arrive at the course. The club includes a bowling alley, cinema, archery range, ropes course, and hamburger joint.

Deerfield Newark, Del., deerfieldgolfclub.com Garrisons Lake Club Smyrna, Del., garrisonslakegolf.com Youve got an hour or so to kill. Not lots of time to play, right? Wrong! At Forewinds Hospitalitys two courses, you are able to book the letter time depending on how lengthy you need to play.&nbsp

Illustrator: Jay Daniel Wright

Turning Stone Resort &amp Casino Verona, N.Y., turningstone.com Keep hitting well into winter inside this 330-feet-lengthy, 240-feet-wide, 75-feet-high golf dome, that has 40&nbspbays, an exercise bunker and eco-friendly, and 2 simulators. While its still warm out, try the resorts recently redesigned nine-hole course, ideal for a fast&nbspround.&nbsp

Blue Sky Club Jacksonville, Fla., golfbluesky.com Go right out the parking area towards the links (family and friends are outfitted with iPads, so that you can bypass the clubhouse). After playing 3, 6, 9, or 18 holes, mind towards the club restaurant for Ultimate Scratch nachos ($8).

Find out more: http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-10-26/to-make-golf-fun-just-add-a-nightclub

#Bloomberg Businessweek #Businessweek #Entertainment #Etc #Golf #Sports

0 notes