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#then built an ID around being ace and then it was like Oh But I Cant. Im Ace etc etc etc
amishgirlies · 3 months
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self intro
This day i saw post talking about being gay and lonely is something that quite common especially when you are pushing 30 or more than that. your social circumstances changes a lot since it shown that you are disconnected much with your own community, while most of heteros start to having family.
They started introduce themself. talking about what what they do for living, what they like, whats their expectation on queer friends that they want to made. it is super cool considering they raised on different backgrounds and lore. they told what happened in their life at some post, and the other seemed to respond which one meet their match or just sending some pep talks.
thats make me think, like what i am gonna describe myself on tweets. they talk about their linking to go outside, start something new, embark on journey, and so on. they talk about their favorite activity like hitting the gym, drawing, running, or any physical activities.
i dont know, i hate to told you this but actually i just like on my own. like my presence in this 2x3 meters room that actually quite little but it fits for me. it is an oasis for me to daydream, sing, dance, or just round around.
it built with window so i could see sky change its colour based on its mood. i could see birds flying or just cloud chilling. even the moon also which i do like.
i have little air conditionier which made my room quite chilly so i have a reason on a blanket or at least curling up on my bed. it is comfy feelings that i dont likely to share with other, even the people i hooked up with.
i love it cuz at some point i have my own monologue talking about what happened in my life whether thats bad or good, nor just projection on hypotethical events.
in this space i felt safe from the world. i dont have to pretend or tolerate, i am full control and fully aware of whats happened.
loneliness was my enemy like i guess, 2-3 years ago. i dont like left alone i would definitely bombard my friends online that they left me behind. but it just maybe about my expectation that they would hang with me meanwhile people grow also. they have life, so maybe im the one who dont have much and cravings for others. i dont rely much on hookups cuz the people just, meh.
now on, i dont see being alone as a problem. it made me a space where i could reflect , project, or even elect anything that i want to do. it is a space for my own imagination. something that i love to do in good times.
i pretty admitting that i dont like meeting people much. theyre much boring or somehow annoying at particular point. i cant talk freely about silly things like bugs, internet, colours, or even just my ac being less chilly overtime ( i guess the freon slowly empty i need to contact my landlord )
i could discuss with myself about anything, i dont have to talk something political or such or i dont have to listen to other people story that somehow BORE ME TO DEATH ( istg it just run around story like idk whats on their mind it just lame ass story did you never reincarnate or something so you have better understanding about world ?)
i am slightly, i guess super delusional which that helps me cope with everything happen. and this space is just super comfy i could start hallucinate anytime. i could watching some tiktok edit and thinking i am Fern the magician ( i saw frieren anime its super good )
One thing couldnt understand is why people r just being " oh my god im so lonely". like it is actually concept that exist even before your grandpa born like its common things. you cant reject it cuz when its time you just being alone and thats it. you dont have to deal with annoying people, you dont have to hear them chitchat or you dont have to spare your energy talking with them. like i dont know how you people holding yourself talking to creature thats most likely to annoy you ? id be dead by second.
i love my friends tho. like i MISS THEM. i guess theyre one that im okay to be with in this scantuary ( gosh i said it like i wasnt the messiest place ever with no good things inside. thats not including how little the space )
i had a lot of writings guess im gonna do several parts of that
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bucephaly · 2 years
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Weird seeing posts that are like 'man you have [experience]? You might actually be [LGBT identity]!'
Like. Phrased in the same way we might say 'you might have adhd!' As if LGBT identities are like. Yea you were born agender!! Yay we figured it out!!
As if these aren't all just Words people might feel like describes their experiences
The identity doesn't come before the experience. The identity is just a way to sorta communicate experience to other people that's all it is
I just feel like people get so caught up in identities without letting themselves experience themselves without immediately trying to fit themselves into a box
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daisybeewrites · 3 years
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Academy Blues — Prologue
word count: 1.8k
warnings: not any for this chapter
ship: Dousy, background Fitzsimmons and Philinda
okay y’all.. here it is. the first installment of my first LONG TERM SERIES!!!!!! ahhhh i’m so excited. literally i cant wait to continue this and see where it takes me. i have an idea and a few different planning sheets, but honestly i have no idea where exactly this will end up. i love each and single one of you <3 thank you for reading!! this is also posted on Ao3, and linked in the masterlist.
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Daisy hated the sound of the bells at The Academy. Screeching, awful, way too loud, the bells were the bane of her existence. They all wore standard-issue watches from the lab that monitored vitals and gave them reminders, and also told the time, for god’s sake! Fitz had even modified hers so that she could play snake on the tiny watch face! There was no need for the bells to be so excruciatingly disruptive. Though, Daisy guessed, there were many things more tortuous than bells ringing every hour and fifteen minutes.
Daisy slowed to a jog, cutting her morning run short. The bright side to being a third-year was that you chose your schedule, for the most part, and that meant Daisy had a free first period for four out of five days of classes. She usually spent this free period getting an extra hour in at the gym, boxing or sparring with Mack or Bobbi, two fourth years that had reluctantly taken her under their wings, or sleeping in. She reserved sleeping in for especially rough nights where visions of ashes and earthquakes and lightning returned time and time again, no matter how many deep breaths she took or sheep she counted.
But this morning was not one of those mornings. She had been up before sunrise, a little before her usual alarm and silently headed out of her dorm for a run. It was humid this time of year on most Virginia mornings, but never so hot that it made Daisy feel as if she was being smothered. The cooler air chilled her sweaty skin, her chest rising and falling as she jogged up the three flights of steps to the second years’ dorms. Down one long hallway, and she arrived at her room.
Daisy had been given her own room at the start of last year, complete with poly-adaptic-proto-whatever panels, which she had painted a pastel shade of purple, to compliment the greens of her cacti and the dark purples and blacks of everything else in her room. Even May had agreed that the stark white was too ”psych wing” for a bedroom. Daisy was grateful for the space, but considering the panels and the private room were only necessary since...
She shuddered. Grabbing her shower caddy, Daisy set off to the bathroom at the opposite end of the hall, hoping no one else was spending a free first period at the dorms.
Her shoulder-length waves were wet from bouncing against her neck, and starting to become annoying now that the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. Picking the white tiled shower furthest away from the door, Daisy quickly turned the water on, checked the temperature, pulled her sports bra and shorts off and hopped into the shower. Shampoo, condition, soap body, rinse. Checking her watch, Daisy found that she had showered in record time, less than three minutes. After spending another five just enjoying the hot water, she hopped out and changed into her class clothes.
Dark purple leggings, Coulson’s grey vintage SHIELD tee and a pair of white running sneakers she had “borrowed” from Jemma completed her look. Passing the mirrors, Daisy tried not to glance at herself. If her hair was messy or her undereye bags a bit too dark, she didn’t want to know. Instead, she headed back to her room to pack her bag for the day.
SHIELD-issued laptop, extra hard drives and a charger, Advanced CS 3: Ethical Hacking: Theory and Application, Advanced CS 4: Secrets of The Coding Languages, Physics notebook, an essay that was three days late on some boring book about international laws, and her sparring gear were all thrown into the black bag. She gave a second glance at the Russian notebooks Bobbi had loaned to her, promising that she’d learn without taking the class. Oh well, she still had all of this term to start. Plus, would she ever really need more than the dirty words?
One look at the alarm clock that sat on her dark hardwood night table showed that she still had almost forty-five minutes before she had to be in the computer lab. Sitting down on her bed, Daisy ran a hand over the grey blanket May had given her.
Daisy’s relationship with May and Coulson had been something of a problem with other students when she first got here. Some had been okay with the obvious paternal love Coulson showed for Daisy, showing her around and checking up on her, scheduling lunch dates and reminding her of tests. May was more subtle, texting her links to tai chi videos when she noticed Daisy getting too stressed or letting Daisy do her own thing if she saw that she was overwhelmed. Of course, none of the other students knew her family history, what she had gone through just to realize that May and Coulson were more her parents than her biological father and mother could ever be. She would see them later today—May during field training and Coulson in between lectures in the canteen.
Daisy walked over to her window to open her blinds, staring out at the campus she had grown to love. The large brick buildings scattered around acres of the Virginia countryside; green fields meant for physical activities like sparring or obstacle courses, or simply basking in the weather to study or chat; the dorms—red brick and concrete melded together to upgrade and expand the charming style of previously-built homes.
Grabbing a protein bar, Daisy headed to the canteen to make a green smoothie (and maybe snatch a cup of joe before she had to listen to an hour-long lecture on the reason SHIELD must cooperate with the UN’s stupid rules at 7:30 in the morning). Smelling the pines and morning dew surrounding her, she smiled slightly. Maybe this term wouldn’t be so bad.
———————————————————————
Daniel Sousa was a man of honor. He was a man of great strength. Agent Daniel Sousa, previously Officer Daniel Sousa in the US Army, was a man who could fix his damn alarm clock on his own.
Just, not today. Or the day before.
So, Agent Daniel Sousa was now hurrying his way to class at The SHIELD Academy, books in hand and gym bag slung over his shoulders. Catching a glance at himself in the shiny glass doors of the bio-chem building, he groaned. He hadn’t even brushed his hair. And, looking down, he discovered he was wearing two different shoes.
This is the college experience everyone raves about, he thought bitterly. You see, Daniel Sousa had enlisted to the army straight out of high school, forgoing university. He climbed the ranks impressively quickly, earning his place as second-in-command and reconnaissance scout in the 28th Infantry Regiment. Unfortunately, after only four years in the army, Sousa was injured in the field, losing his leg and almost his life.
He came back to the US a war hero, and yet, he felt he wasn't finished. So, when a recruiter named Peggy Carter knocked on his door claiming to be from SHIELD (“Wow, you guys are still a thing?”), he leapt at the chance to continue fighti-...doing good. The Academy wasn’t exactly what he had bargained for, though. Trying to earn his B.A. and training to be an agent at the same time was grueling, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.
No, six different one hour and fifteen minute long classes plus mandatory physical therapy every day wasn’t going to break him. Learning how to be a communications agent and re-starting field training and catching up on general college education was no problem. Pressuring himself to be the best, to break the limits, to get past all his weaknesses was just another miniscule feather to add to the pile.
Unless his stupid alarm clock broke. Then yes, Agent Daniel Sousa would fail, buckle under the weight and be left on the floor to die.
Maybe he was being a bit dramatic.
One bunny-slippered right foot and a sneakered left leg carried him forward, propelled by a quickly chugged orange Celsius and his sheer will not to be late.
Daniel heard the late bell ring out, understanding that, on his first day of class, he would be counted late. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Especially when his first class was a refresher course on field tactics and covert strategy, something in which he was already aces.
He let out a sigh, slowing as he rounded the corner into the comms building. At the Academy, most buildings were grouped into categories: the cafeteria, gym and pool, and student resource building all to the south; the gun range, obstacle course, and specialized gym to the east; bio-chem labs, tech labs, and smaller rooms for lectures to the west; the computer labs and comms buildings right smack in the middle; and dorms to the north.
He swiped a key card with his driver’s license picture and student ID, unlocking the sliding doors that led to the computer labs. It was quicker to short cut through them than to walk around the building to the entrance closest to communications classrooms.
It wasn’t because he knew a certain broody brunette spent her mornings in the lab.
No, it wasn’t, because she wasn’t in her usual seat in the corner, typing away.
He slowly walked through the rows of computers, searching for a familiar black backpack. Nothing was there.
“Hey, Sousa,” an accented female voice called behind him. He whipped around to see who it was, feeling just a twinge of disappointment when Elena, or, as most people knew her, Yo-Yo, was leaning against the door frame. Yo-Yo, a fourth year operations trainee, who was very close with Daisy.
“Hey, Yo-Yo. Good morning,” he called, “I’m running a bit late.”
Elena checked her nails casually, “Way to state the obvious. You were running faster than I could trying to get here before the bell.”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “Yeah…”
“Daisy’s running late today, too.”
Daniel looked around, pretending that hearing Daisy’s name didn’t make him want to smile. “Oh, of course. She’s usually here early.”
Elena nodded, chuckling a little at his response. She couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or just a bad liar. It was charming, really. “Right. See ya ‘round, Sousa!”
“See ya,” He replied. He thought he heard a quiet ‘Lovable nerds’ coming from the direction she left, but he couldn’t be sure.
And so, with a last look around the computer lab, Daniel set off to arrive late to May’s lecture.
———————————————————————
okay okay,,, what do y’all think?? like/reblog and let me know! it’s the best way to support writers and it only takes a second! stay tuned for more chapters!!
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valla-chan · 3 years
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65 Questions You Aren't Used To answered by ME
1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?
    Sometimes, but it always goes away fairly quickly.
2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?
    3, im not actively afraid of the dark itself but it can exacerbate paranoias
3. The person you would never want to meet?
    The guy on reddit with like 100 different parasites he spreads to people around him
4. What is your favorite word?
    Catgirl or Ghost maybe idk
5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?
    Monterey Cypress
6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?
    Oh my god my hair is so fucked, i look dead in the face too
7. What shirt are you wearing?
    gray longesleev :)
8. What do you label yourself as?
    gray-ace trans girl who is probably actually nonbinary but ignores that for the sake of simplicity
9. Bright room or dark room?
    dark
10. What were you doing at midnight last night?
    in a voice call watching my friend stream hl2: lost coast
11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?
    19-20
12. Who told you they loved you last?
     gf :)
13. Your worst enemy?
    congress republicans
14. What is your current desktop picture?
    I have 3, and currently all of them are on images of hatsune miku
15. Do you like someone?
    mhm
16. The last song you listened to?
     No Children - The Mountain Goats
17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
    Mitch McConnell
18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
    Donald Trump
19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?
    A clone of myself, who i would make work on my portal mod lul
20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)
    My hair perhaps
21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?
    I dont know if this would make me male, female, or a trans man!
22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?
    Getting people to like me when i want them to, i guess? It sounds manipulative but if you dont use it to manipulate people, and you dont always do it (because sometimes you dont want the person to like you), then is it?
23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?
    I am afraid that my perception of other things is inaccurate and eventually i will realize that people around me regard me as someone who is very much detached from objective reality.
24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.
     Crab+lobster mix, avocado, cheese, caramelized onions, bacon, sourdough bread, basil+a bit of garlic, and probably other stuff i cant think of.... oh and sunchips stuffed inside that i could pull out and eat.
25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?
    Save it!!
26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?
    California!
28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
    1) If you die we eat you
29. What is your favorite expletive?
    simply saying the word KILL!
30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?
    My computer :( it would cause the most extreme impact to have it be destroyed. i would feel terrible about everything else though
31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
    I’d rather not say.
32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!
    sounds awful :(
33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?
    My kitty :(
34. What was your last dream about?
    I was playing a hidden level in Frogger: the Great Quest but then @ sleepysoul DM’d me to ask what my newest video was about cause she was weirded out by it, and i went to my youtube channel to find this bizarre video about crab-catching, which slowly descended into this video showing bizarre and cosmic horrors. For some reason i thought i uploaded it and tried to defend the video, but i could not explain it
35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?
    I am a good 3d modeler, texturer, game mapper, and other things that have to do with digital 3d artstuff
36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?
    no
37. Have you ever built a snowman?
    yes
38. What is the color of your socks?
    All of mine are tan or dark blue. super lame and boring
39. What type of music do you like?
    Most currently, it fluctuates between “weirdcore” type aesthetic playlists of music, and anything Vocaloid.
40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?
    Sunrises, because im usually not awake for them so they are extra special
41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?
    strawberry maybe
43. Do you have any scars?
    One on the side of my butt where i tore it open on the bathtub faucet, one on my elbow from a bike accident, and 
44. What do you want to be when you graduate?
    I dropped out :(
45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
    my cheekbones and eyebrow ridge stick out so weirdly, id make it not look like that
46. Are you reliable?
    on small things? yes. on big things? nope, not in the least.
47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?
    Have you finally gotten out of this rut and found happiness and success?
48. Do you hold grudges?
    i kinda do but try not to
49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?
    Catgirl
51. Are you a good liar?
    only when im not trying to.
52. How long could you go without talking?
    consecutively, maybe a fourth of a day
53. What has been you worst haircut/style?
    short.
54. Have you ever baked your own cake?
    I’ve helped, but never done it myself!
55. Can you do any accents other than your own?
    Oh, believe me, no. But i do it anyway because its objectively hilarious
56. What do you like on your toast?
    Not beans.
57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?
    Miku :)  (it turned out so badly i scrapped it)
58. What would be you dream car?
   Golden Leopard Print Golf Cart
59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.
      I lie down as to not pass out (and cause warmn wotter....)
60. Do you believe in aliens?
    [redacted]
61. Do you often read your horoscope?
    never
62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?
    E? (it has a nice synesthetic color)
63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?
    Dinos
64. What do you think about babies?
    gremlins. strange beings. they are very strange and creepy-ish but can be cute but RARELY. keep away.
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fleckcmscott · 4 years
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Watch What Happens - Chapter 9
Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.
Chapter warning: Swearing, Angst
Words: 3,977
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"Ms. McPhee, thank you for the tea and cookies," Y/N said, putting her mug on the small coffee table between them. "They were delicious. But keep the box of tea cakes I brought, all right?"
In the dark green overstuffed chair across from her, Ms. McPhee gave her a warm look. "They were no problem. It's nice to have company." She hesitated before speaking again. "Do you think you'll be able to help?"
Y/N reached to pet the cat lying next to her on the worn, gray sofa, searching for an answer. Getting the woman’s hopes up would be unkind. But with all the hours Y/N was working, and what she believed she was finding, she was stubborn enough to try. "I don't know what the outcome will be," she started. A soft smile crossed her face in an attempt to encourage the older woman. "But I'll do everything I can. How long did you and your husband live her?"
Ms. McPhee crossed her ankles as she rocked her chair. "Let me see."
While Ms. McPhee pondered, Y/N's eyes surveyed the apartment. It was tiny, and the living room had an open, cream color kitchenette on the end. A mini-fridge was under the short counter. There was an old oven, but the stovetop must not have functioned, because a hot plate sat on it. Half the cabinets were missing knobs, and the drawers no longer fit in their slots correctly. There wasn't room for a table; a folded TV dinner tray was leaned against the wall. Y/N exhaled sharply. This woman had so little - and here she was, having to fight to keep it.
"We moved here in 1942," Ms. McPhee continued, breaking Y/N's train of thought. "After Phil got hurt at Ace."
"Ace Chemicals? What happened?"
"Industrial accident. He had burns on over seventy percent of his body." Ms. McPhee took another sip of tea. "There was no way for him to keep working. And social security didn’t exist yet. Back then it was harder for women to get a job. I was a secretary for a little while, then an operator. But we still struggled, especially with our daughter on the way." Gesturing towards the ceiling, she continued. "This place was a godsend. Most landlords didn't accept housing vouchers. We were lucky."
Y/N wasn’t sure that was the word she would have used. Luck would have been not having an industrial accident in the first place. Or at least having had to struggle less when misfortune had knocked them down. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but admire Ms. McPhee’s resilience.
“You’ve been through a lot.” Gently, Y/N asked, "When did he pass away?"
"Four years ago. Heart attack." Ms. McPhee's lips pursed. "We went through a lot together. I know it's not much, but I don't want to leave. It was difficult but we built a life here."
That Y/N understood. Her parents had lived in the same house for almost fifty years, and had, as they had continuously reminded her, "held onto it during the depression, so don't take it for granted." And, before he'd completely lost himself, the home's familiar walls, carpets, and furniture had soothed her father. If some faceless corporation had tried to push them out, he would have raised hell.
Blinking the memory away, Y/N grabbed another chocolate chip cookie. "You mentioned earlier that people had come by to talk to you. Did they give you any sort of card?"
 "They were so neatly dressed, I thought they were Mormons." They both laughed at that, Y/N coughing softly on a crumb. "But when I opened the door, they just had questions about my apartment," Ms. McPhee said. “I asked for ID, but they just gave me a Renew Corp. card. Then the letters started coming."
"And how long ago was that?"
"About eight months."
Digging into her canvas bag, Y/N found a pen and paper. She took the cap off her pen with her mouth and started writing as she spoke. "Eight months..." When she got back to the office tomorrow, she'd have to check the dates the Wayne Foundation started filing with the court. She felt Ms. McPhee's eyes on her. "Don't worry," Y/N said. "I'm not writing your name down."
Ms. McPhee chuckled. "I'm not worried, dear. I'm too old for that.” She leaned towards Y/N, then, as if she was spilling a secret. “I think those men wanted to scare me. But they just made me mad. Use my name however you want."
Y/N couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from turning up. "I admire your spunk, Ms. McPhee. You're a tough old bird. That's a compliment."
"Well, then, I'll take it as one."
Y/N stretched her arms and leaned forward. "Do you have anymore of those letters, like the one you gave me when we first spoke?"
Nodding, Ms. McPhee stood and left the room. Rising from the couch, Y/N perused the photos on the opposite wall, hanging over the small TV set. She recognized Ms. McPhee, with whom she assumed was her husband. Pictures of Thanksgivings and Christmases with undersized turkeys and tiny trees. Seeing the memories this one family had created in this undersized apartment, knowing how many more people were in this exact same situation, made her more determined to find out what the hell was going on and who was behind it.
Ms. McPhee came back, holding two shoe boxes. "Here. You can have them both."
Taking them from her, Y/N lifted the lid of one and carded through the red envelopes. There must have been close to fifty. "You got all these?" she asked, trying to hide her slight alarm.
"Some are from neighbors. You wouldn't know it, looking at me, but I can be persuasive."
Y/N snorted, remembering their first encounter. "These are very helpful. Thank you. I'll keep in touch, all right?"
Ms. McPhee nodded gratefully.
"Now," Y/N said, closing the box. "Can you tell me where Anderson Avenue is?" She pondered on to say next. Was Arthur her boyfriend? They hadn’t discussed it. But she thought it would seem odd not to know where her boyfriend lived. "I want to visit a friend before I head home."
"What's the address?"
"225a."
Ms. McPhee pointed as she gave directions. "It’s close. When you leave here, go right, then take another right at the corner."
"Thank you," Y/N said.
Passing her, Ms. McPhee opened a kitchen cabinet. "Let me get a bag. You can take some cookies with you."
~~~~~
Stretching her shoulders, Y/N hastened up the sidewalk. The shoe boxes were tucked safely in her bag, making it cumbersome to carry. It felt funny, knowing she'd have to keep evidence, at her apartment. But that was the only way she'd know it was secure. If Matt found the letters, she didn't think he'd kick her out on her ass. There was a good chance he'd shred them, though. That was too big of a risk. Tomorrow, she'd have to invite Patricia over to talk about the bullshit she'd found and, hopefully, enlist her help.
As she approached the courtyard of Arthur’s building, she ran her hand through her hair, then smoothed her pencil skirt with her palm. She wondered if he appreciated pop-ins. It was early Sunday evening and most places were closed, so it seemed unlikely he’d be out. Maybe she was being too impulsive. But it had been nearly two days since she'd seen him. It felt like two weeks. They'd had their nightly phone call, but it wasn’t enough.
After their dinner, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. For most of the evening, he’d seemed comfortable, needing reassurance only once or twice. The conversation had been enjoyable, even when it got heavy (though he still didn’t talk much about himself), and his company a warm presence. She loved how he'd tenderly held her as they'd danced, with her trying not to step on his feet. And the way his hesitancy had temporarily fallen away when he’d kissed her with what felt like his whole body.
If she was honest, she’d been forcing herself to see him less than she wanted to. Having him around her everyday would have been too much for her to think clearly. And clarity was what she needed. She didn’t want to rush into a fling that would flame out in a week. Their connection had become too important for that.
He’d worked his way into her heart so quickly, faster than she could have predicted. When she was at the office, a sarcastic remark or joke brought him to mind. She would recall the feel of his lips on hers at random. When shopping, she sometimes saw an item he might like, a sweater she thought would actually fit or a fancy lighter, and have to fight the impulse to buy it. She didn’t want to freak him out by showering him with gifts before they were a couple.
She took a deep breath to clear her head as she entered his building, then went to the mail area to find his apartment number. It didn't take long: "P. Fleck, 8J." When she went to the elevator, she paused. It looked rickety. But she had enough reading material if she was stuck for an hour or two. Stepping into it, she pushed the button for the eighth floor. The lift thought it over before closing and starting its slow ascent.
Once she arrived, she went the wrong way down the corridor and had to double back. She laughed at her mistake. At least the extra steps helped build her excitement. When in front of Arthur’s door, she bounced quickly between her toes and her heels, then pressed the buzzer.
"Coming!"
The sound of his soft, raspy voice, the anticipation of knowing he'd be with her in a few seconds... She smiled. As she heard the chain lock being slid over, she bounced again, once, feeling simultaneously ridiculous and perfect.
The door opened quickly and Arthur stood there, a dishtowel over his shoulder. Y/N didn't miss how his gray thermal shirt clung to his torso and arms, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He braced himself against the door, his eyebrows creasing in the middle. "Oh, hey. What are you doing here?"
She stared at him, his slicked-back hair from what she assumed was a recent shower, his eyes piercing hers. It took a moment for her to process his question, and she swallowed before answering. "I was working in the neighborhood and wanted to wish you luck before your show."
"On a Sunday?"
She gave a shrug. "It's unusual, but it happens."
"I thought you'd call," he said.
That wasn't what she'd expected. Ugh, he had been busy. She scrunched up her face. "Am I interrupting you? I wasn't sure if I should just show up. I can go if-"
"No." Arthur shook his head and looked down, sighing. "That's not what I meant."
She saw his shoulders tense as his hand moved to the doorknob, which made a jiggling sound when he fiddled with it. Y/N took a step towards him and leaned against the frame. "I've missed you since Friday."
A smile came across his face, slowly spreading from cheek to cheek. "Really?"
"Really." She dug into her bag, then, and held out the bag of cookies. "The client I was with gave me these. They’re for you and your mother."
Eyes flicking to hers, he took them. "That’s sweet." His hand was so close - he hadn't drawn it back completely.
Y/N pursed her lips, a tad frustrated. He wanted her to touch him - hell, he'd come right out and told her. And she hadn't missed the feel of his erection against her when she’d been in his arms. "May I kiss you?" she asked.
A breath of relief came out of him as he chuckled. "Yeah." The cookies were quickly put on the side table. He leaned into her a bit, his voice lowering. "You don't have to ask, Y/N."
"Good to know," she said, grinning at him. Her bag fell to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It only took a second for his right arm to pull her closer, his hand splaying on the small her back. “You don’t have to ask me, either.”
He tilted his head, nuzzling at her cheek before their lips met, his left hand going to her hip. The warmth of his lithe form against her went straight to her core. A low moan left her throat. The way his lips pulled at hers, a bit clumsy but eager, made her arch against him. She could tell he was holding back, causing heat to settle deep in her abdomen.
He tasted of nicotine and coffee, neither of which were particularly pleasant, but were definitely him. The artificial fragrance of the shampoo he'd used smelled like cheap musk, but was nice nonetheless. And she could have sworn he was wearing aftershave. She sighed happily as their lips parted. "Mm. You smell good."
"Thanks," he answered, backing away, his face flushed. He turned his body so she could look into the apartment. "Come in?"
"I'd love to." After stepping through the doorway, she put her bag down next to the side table and hung up her coat. "I can't stay long, though. If you peek in my bag, you'll see paperwork waiting."
He stepped to the kitchen sink. "I was just doing dishes," he said, indicating the dish rack with his hand.
She went to his side as he put his hands in the water, and took the dish towel from his shoulder. "Let me dry." As they worked in tandem, Y/N heard the radio on the windowsill was playing at a low volume. He had been listening to an oldies station. She wondered if he always had music on when doing housework.
Arthur’s expression was content. He looked her way every so often, his dimples showing when he did. "How's your job?” he asked.
"It's fine." She started drying the cutlery, and putting it on the opposite counter, unsure of where it should go. "My boss called yesterday. I have to go to some benefit on Thursday at Wayne Hall. I'm going to have to find something decent to wear."
His response came quicker than expected. "You always look nice."
She blushed. "Thank you." Grabbing a plate, she continued. "I wish I could bring you with me. I hate these things. Thank god there's an open bar.” She scooted a bit closer. “How about you? Have you had any clown gigs?"
His face remained steady. “It's slow this time of year.”
When Y/N put the plate on the counter, a row of prescription bottles caught her eye. They all had Arthur's name on them, and they were mostly empty. A couple of the drug names were familiar to her: Ahenelzine, Diazepam... Those were for depression and anxiety. She'd taken something for depression herself for a time when she was back home. Without that extra help, she wouldn't have been able to deal with being a caretaker.
She flushed, turning away before she could read the rest. Apart from what was on his laminated card and his terrible smoking habit, she'd simply assumed he was healthy, if a bit tired. Maybe he had a thyroid issue - that would help explain his figure, though she adored it. Or perhaps he just needed help dealing with his mother.
Guilt welled in her. His medicine and medical history were none of her business this early on. She wanted to give him that respect. Until there was a problem, if there was a problem, it wouldn't matter. Not unless he wanted to share that part of himself.
But there were quite a few bottles...
Y/N watched him as he washed a bowl, thinking of the isolation he'd described on their first date, his excitement at being able to show her around his city. The happiness she felt when she was around him, even if he constantly second-guessed himself and was often unsure of what to say. The way he’d tried to comfort her when she’d started crying on her couch. Her heart did a little flip.
He was the same Arthur as sixty seconds ago, before she’d spotted the prescriptions. The medication could wait.
"After the show, I was thinking we could get something to eat,” he said, putting a glass in the drying rack.
She sidled up next to him. "I'd love to. Pogo's is in Chinatown, right? Kao Wah is pretty good. It'll be my treat."
He let the water out of the sink, then took the towel from her and dried his hands. "But I'm asking you out.”
She leaned back on the counter, facing him. "Yeah, but it's your night. It can be a congratulatory dinner and a date."
He turned to look straight at her, his hip against the sink's edge. A small smirk was on his mouth as he shook his head. Y/N saw amusement and disbelief in his gaze. With his arms folded over his chest, he still held himself with reservation, even after taking her breath away at the front door.
She took his hand; it was still warm and damp. It opened as she brought it to the dip of her waist. His eyes dropped to her mouth before a bashful smile took over and he looked away from her. He was so hesitant, it felt like he was teasing her. She cleared her throat. "In case I hadn't made it clear earlier, you can touch me, Arthur. I want you t-."
His mouth was on her almost immediately, and groaned softly in this throat as she brought her palm to his chest. She felt his other hand grasp at her side and pull her close, while at the same time he turned to pin her gently against the counter. Giggles bubbled up in her throat as his kisses changed, surprising her when he pressed soft pecks on her cheeks and forehead. He hugged her close, then, and buried his face in her hair, sighing.
As she ran her fingers up and down his back, she closed her eyes. All right. That display had provided some clarity. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "How did I get so lucky to run into you at the store and the donut shop, hm?" she asked, squeezing him tighter. "And on the train?"
Grip loosening, he stepped away, frowning. "You're not the lucky one." He reached for his cigarettes and lighter, which were behind him on the breakfast bar. He rubbed his fingers together, then put a cigarette in his mouth. "I wish I-"
"Happy? Are you home?" a voice from the bedroom sounded.
Arthur plucked the smoke from his lips, putting it on the counter. "Hold on, mom."
Y/N winced. "She won't be upset I'm here, will she?"
Shaking his head, he turned towards the living room. "I just need to help her get up. Give me a couple minutes."
She watched his form until it disappeared into a hallway to the side of the apartment. Stepping further into the it, she checked out the living room. The place would have been something twenty-five years ago. Now it was run-down, but clean and well kept. The plaid wallpaper, stained from cigarette smoke, wasn't one she would have chosen. Her eyes roved over the furniture. A brown notebook was on the coffee table. And the pillow, bed sheet, and blanket on the couch made her brow furrow. Arthur didn't have a bed of his own? How long had he been sleeping on the sofa? At least she'd had a room in Boonville.
It occurred to her, looking around, that apart from an ashtray and some shirts hung haphazardly in the corner, nothing in the apartment said Arthur. Not the ugly cat candle on a nearby bureau, not the paintings on the wall behind the TV, not the wax fruit on the weirdest metal stand she'd ever seen. It was like he was an afterthought in his own home.
Arthur's voice caught her attention. "Here you go."
The sight in front of her was well-known. He guided the older woman to an easy-chair, one arm under her shoulder, the other holding her hand. She looked at Ms. Fleck's face and faded red hair. It was obvious she'd been beautiful when she was younger. Arthur looked nothing like her, but Y/N thought he must have gotten whatever genes made him handsome from her.
Once settled, Ms. Fleck turned to her. "Who's that?"
"She's Y/N, mom. The woman I told you about." He flicked on the TV.
Y/N approached her and crouched down to be at eye-level. "Hi, Ms. Fleck. It's nice to meet you. Arthur's said such nice things about you." She stuck her hand out to the woman and flashed a smile at Arthur. He grinned.
Ms. Fleck didn't respond at first, almost looking through her. Then she lifted her hand and took the one proffered to her. "I never thought my Happy would find a girlfriend. Especially one so pretty." Her lips turned up. "He talked about you, but I don't know where his head is sometimes."
Y/N flinched. Gently, she let go of Ms. Fleck's hand, then rose to stand and look at Arthur.
He looked as if his mother had struck him, standing stock still in front of the TV with his eyes shut. Y/N had never seen him angry before, but his clenched jaw and the fists at his sides made it obvious.
Ms. Fleck spoke again. “Happy, did you check the mail?”
Arthur’s face fell. “There’s no mail on Sundays.” His answer came softly, voice low and trembling.
Y/N reached and took his hand, then guided him back to the kitchen, away from his mother. "Don't listen to her. It's her illness talking," she said. It was an assumption, but it felt right.
He braced himself against the archway as he lit a cigarette, staring at the floor.
Not wanting to cause him pain, but needing to know what was going on, she asked her next question carefully. "Why does she keep calling you 'Happy?'"
Smoke left his mouth and nose as he spoke. "She's always done that. She's always told me to smile and put on a happy face." His shoulders shook as soft laughter escaped him. "I don't want to be angry around you. I'm sorry." The hurt in his eyes betrayed the smile he wore.
"Arthur, stop, stop," she said, bringing her hands to his face. After kissing him firmly, she put her forehead to his cheek. "It's all right." She carded a hand through his now nearly dry hair. "I'm sorry she said that."
He didn't put his arms around her, instead standing stiffly against the wall. "You should go. I know you have work to do." He said it quietly, almost a whisper.
She worried her lip, wishing he would let her comfort him instead of shutting her out. "Do you want to come back with me? Have some space?"
"No," he said. "She hasn't eaten."
"Are you going to be all right?"
"Yeah. I'll give her dinner and she'll want to go back to bed. Murray Franklin isn't on tonight."
Reluctantly, she let go of him. "Okay." He followed her to the door and helped her with her coat. Her throat clenched - he was still being thoughtful, even through his upset. She grabbed her bag and gave him a quick peck. "I'll call you when I get home. I already can't wait to see you. Pogo's at eight?"
Opening the door, he nodded, his eyes darting to hers for only a moment. "Pogo's at eight."
Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @sweet-nothings04​
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twstarchives · 4 years
Text
11・A Place Free Of Clouds
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         ♡—Headmaster’s Office—♡
——The day of the Star Send-Off ritual
Grim: ...There’s a bunch of big whale-looking clouds in the distance, but things look pretty clear around here.
Trey: Yeah. It looks like we’ll be able to carry out the ritual. Right, Headmaster?
Crowley: I suppose so...
Deuce: Why do you sound so reluctant!?
We’ve been practising this whole time with nothing but faith that the weather would be clear today.
Crowley: Take a look out the window!
Grim was right in saying they’re a bit far from us now, but those rainclouds are definitely coming this way!
It’s only a matter of time before they reach the school. Under these circumstances, the ceremony will have to——
Riiing~♪
Crowley: Oh? My phone... There’s no caller ID.
Hello? ...Yes? Idia Shroud?
I don’t recall giving you this number. How are you calling me...? What? The ritual?
I was actually just talking to everyone about whether or not to cancel it...
Yes... Ye—What!?
Y-You can’t do that! Hold on! Idia Shroud!!
...He hung up.
Deuce: What did Shroud say?
Crowley: He made it very clear that he wants us to carry out the ritual, and that we shouldn’t worry about the weather. He said it’ll be alright.
It seems he also remotely hacked into my PC and emailed the reporters.
He told them, “The ritual will be held as planned. I’m looking forward to seeing your coverage on our school.”
I can’t believe him...
Now we don’t have a choice but to carry out the Star Send-Off!?
        ♡—Woods Behind Campus - Big Tree—♡
Cater: You think Trey and Deucey are doing okay~? They’re a little ways off from where we are, so I can’t tell.
Ace: Well, I think I’ve got a pretty clear idea of how Deuce is doing. Bet he’s all tense and nervous as hell.
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Deuce: I-It’s time... I-I-I don’t know if I’ll be able to dance all right.
Trey: Deuce, try not to be so tense. Relax a little.
We finally get to perform our ritual. But you won’t be able to dance like we’ve practised if you’re nervous like that.
Crowley: Listen to Clover.
The reporters have also arrived to begin covering the Star Send-Off.
Pull yourself together, alright?
Deuce: Y-Yessir!
Crowley: Now, where is our main star, Idia Shroud?
Trey: I guess he’s running late.
Crowley: Surely he’s not... planning not to come?
Deuce: I hope not... But knowing Shroud...
...No, we settled this with a deal between men. Of course he’s coming!
???: ...AHHHH...!
Running footsteps...
Deuce: Oh, there’s someone running towards us and screaming something!
Idia: I-I-I can’t believe I’m walking around outside in this... This is humiliating...!!
Hah... Hah...! Oh, s-sorry I’m late...
Deuce: Shroud! I’m glad you’re here.
Grim: Huh? Where’s Ortho? He’s not with you?
Idia: H-He is; he’s just coming later. He was having some trouble with his adjustments...
Grim: Adjustments?
Crowley: Well, I’m glad you could make it on time.
Let’s begin the ritual before this weather gets worse.
Idia: Got it. Sir Deuce, Sir Trey, you guys ready?
Deuce: ......
Idia: Wh-What?
Deuce: Nothing... It’s just, you seem a little different today, Shroud...
Trey: Yeah, it feels that way to me too.
I’m just surprised. I honestly thought you’d start saying you don’t want to play the drums at the last second.
Idia: Y-You guys had no faith in me at all, huh...? I mean, I guess I had it coming, true.
B-But that’s not important right now.
Instead of thinking about me, we should be thinking about making the ritual a success...
            (Thunderclap!)
Grim: GYAHH!!
Option 1: That was a loud noise...
Option 2: That was really bright...
Grim: H-How are you so calm about it!? That was terrifying!
Crowley: Even I felt a little frightened! Hearing a sudden clap of thunder took me by surprise.
However... We knew it would turn out like this. I suppose we’ll have to end things here.
Everyone, the ritual is canceled!
Deuce: No! It’s not raining yet—
Crowley: Didn’t you hear that lightning? We can’t proceed with anything.
Besides... See? Look up! The sky is covered with rainclouds.
Deuce: I-It really is...
Grim: I can’t see any stars ‘cause of those huge whale-clouds!
Crowley: Do you see now? It’s far too dangerous to have the Star Send-Off in this weather.
I will direct the students back to their dorms. All of you, please start taking everything down.
            (Crowley leaves)
Deuce: ...Is this really the end?
Trey: We have no choice, Deuce. We did everything we could.
The weather is out of our control.
Deuce: But we worked so hard for this day...
I’m still far from being an honor student, but I got into this school, and I was even lucky enough to be chosen to represent it...
I wanted so badly to make my mom happy by telling her I was a successful Stargazer...
And I’m supposed to just drop everything and move on!? Agh... Dammit!!
Idia: Yup, you know he’s a jock ‘cause he immediately loses his chill like that lol.
Deuce: Sh-Shroud...?
Idia: All that whining you did just now was really annoying to listen to.
But don’t you think it’s weird being upset that a weather forecast made by actual meteorologists turned out to be true?
Deuce: Aah? The hell did you just say!?
Idia: You’re so ignorant lol. I’m not like you.
I don’t get hyped up about childish school events like you do.
And I could never run around collecting 300 Wishing Stars...
Just to get some antisocial nerd to participate in a ritual.
But... Since you were such an idiot, I got to hear Ortho’s wish.
Deuce: Huh? What are you trying to say...?
Idia: If our wishes won’t reach the stars, then we’ll just send ‘em to the stars ourselves!
Whoosh...!
Ortho: Big Broooother!
Idia: You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you, Ortho!
Grim: Fnya!? T-The heck is that cool body Ortho’s got?
Trey: It kind of looks like the design on our Star Send-Off garments.
Ortho: This is an attachment Big Brother built! It’s designed for breaking through the atmosphere. It’s called the Stargazer Gear.
Deuce: Stargazer Gear...?
Er, wait a second... Did you say “breaking through the atmosphere”?
Ortho: Yeah!
Idia: If the clouds are in our way, then we just have to move the Wishing Stars to somewhere free of them.
Ortho will carry them up to space for us.
Everyone: WHAAT!?
Deuce: O-Ortho... Isn’t that dangerous?
Ortho: Don’t worry. We’ve run lots and lots of tests, and besides, this is equipment Big Brother designed.
Deuce: You two are seriously going to fly up into space?
Ortho: We are!
Deuce: That’s... THAT’S AMAZING!!
Idia: Wah! Huh? What!? Please don’t start yelling without warning us first...
Deuce: Shroud, you’re actually incredible!!
Idia: Huh? Wai—stop... You’re too close! This much physical contact is unsupported in this mode! Please!
I-I-I’m with you guys. I want it turn out this year. ...For Ortho.
Sir Deuce, Sir Trey. What are you guys going to do?
Trey: Man... I never would’ve expected Idia would whip out a flying device.
Things have come this far, so I guess we’ve got to do it.
Deuce: Of course!
I know Ortho will be able to send off the Wishing Stars.
Let’s not let him down; the three of us will have a perfect dance and drums performance!
Idia: Hehe, OK. Let’s get this started.
Ortho: I’ll move to the sports field, where the launchpad is. Big Brother... see you later!
Idia: Yeah!
Deuce: ...Ortho!
Ortho: Hm? What’s wrong, Deuce Spade?
Deuce: I remember you said that you’re not a student here, and that you and your brother are considered one person.
But there’s no doubt about it—you’re our fourth Stargazer.
Let’s show everyone the best Star Send-Off ever!
Ortho: ——Yeah!
             (Ortho leaves)
Crowley: W-Wait just one moment, all of you! What do you think you’re doing!?
Grim: Nyahaha! Break a leg, Stargazers! Take care of my Wishing Star for me!
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NEXT TIME: Episode 12
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senorshawn · 5 years
Text
Best Mistake- AU Part 3
Warnings: none
A/N: Did I mention this is going to be a slow burn fic? this is just kind of a filler part since i’ve been away FOREVER
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*not my gif*
The unusual warmth radiating on to your body enveloped you under the blankets persuading you to stay and curl up tighter to your pillow that was gently rising up and down in a rhythmic pattern. You scrunch your eyebrows as you slowly trickled out of your slumber, and began to register to the hum of a beat beneath your ear. Opening your eyes, you gazed down to find a bare, toned chest where your head was laying. You quickly grew confused but remained calm when you saw it was Shawn lying peacefully asleep underneath you. Could’ve done worse, you thought to yourself.
You blinked at him a few times as your mind began to race, trying to remember the events of last night, and how Shawn ended up in bed with you. Did I get naked with Shawn? Did we have sex? Did I make a fool of myself? You jumped out from the sheets, pulling them off of Shawn, startling him awake. Looking down to your attire, you were relieved when you found a pair of shorts and baggy shirt hanging on your frame. Shawn groan as he blindly grabbed for the sheets through squinted eyes,
“Get up!” you said to him, hands balled into fists by your sides.
 He simply ignored you and flipped around, hugging his torso to create some warmth. You stood there for a moment, his defined shoulders and back muscles making your train if thought hazy.
You stomped around the bed to face him, and stood waiting for him to acknowledge you. Growing tired of waiting, you fired the questions to him, “What happened last night, and why are you in my bed?” 
He sighed, accepting the fact that you weren’t going to let him get anymore sleep, and cracked open one eye, “Did you and I..?” You paused pointing a finger between the both of you.
Shawn didn’t register to what you were indicating at first, but then a sly smirk slid it’s way over his features that reflected his thoughts, “Oh yes,” he spoke mischievously. 
Your eyes widened and heart began to beat rapidly, “What?”
“Oh yes, we had a wild night. You were all over me, moaning my name. I thought the neighbors were going to come over and ask if you were alright,” 
Having no clear recollection of what really happened, you believed him automatically, “No we didn’t,” you whispered more to yourself than to Shawn.
His smirk then broke into a smile and laugh, “Did you really believe me?” he continued without waiting for your response, “You were drunk, there was no way I’d take advantage,” 
“Well thanks, I guess. What did happen then?”
“Feed me breakfast and I’ll tell you,”
                          _____________________________________
“Why did we leave when Brayden showed up?”
Shawn shrugged at your question, and avoided your eyes, “Dunno, it was your idea,” 
You gazed at him confused, as he shoved another piece of pancake in his mouth, “Did he say something to you? Or me?” you asked,
“No, it was your idea.”
You dropped the Brayden subject, and picked at your own food, “How’d you end up staying the night?”
The question made him chuckle and his eyes twinkled with recollection. You sat waiting for his answer that never came. So you grabbed his plate and brought it over to your side of the table. Shawn was startled for a moment, but then shook his head, looking straight in to your eyes, “You wanted me,” he said.
The air grew dense around you, while processing Shawn’s words, “Elaborate,” you stated, sliding his plate back his way. He kept eye contact, “It’s the truth. You were all over me sweets, beckoning me to come in, trying to take my shirt off, telling me t-” 
“Alright okay, finish your damn breakfast,” you interrupted him,
“Don’t feel so bad hun, every girl wants me,”
“Well sucks to be you, ‘cause you and I are not happening,”
You grabbed your plate and began marching in to the kitchen but not without barely hearing him whisper, “Does suck,” 
Choosing to not respond to that comment, you did choose to repeat it in your head. Waking up next to Shawn felt different, out of place almost, he was just your friend. But the thought of being with him, sexually, body against his, pressing your lips down his ripped torso, excited you. 
Shawn softly padded into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms directly behind you. You felt his gaze on your back, making it itch. So you spun around to face him, catching his intense gaze and holding on to it. 
He stood his ground, staring into your y/c/e orbs, in comfortable silence. His cocky demeanor influencing you, daring to return his intensity. 
The ringtone of your phone pierced the air and made you jump. Checking the caller ID to see it was Brayden. You huffed and let it ring, “It’s Brayden,” you said, answering Shawn’s unspoken question, “You gonna answer it?” he asked. 
You continued staring down at the screen, till it went to voice mail,
“You don’t need him,” Shawn said smoothly, meaning every syllable he pronounced,
Chuckling slightly, you turned back around, “Who said I even wanted him,” you replied crossing your arms. 
Shawn licked his lips, suddenly more intrigued by your words. He stood up straight from his spot against the counter, and took his sweet time making his way to you,
“What do you want then?” he asked,
“Something more exciting,”
“Something,” He whispered, not breaking eye contact as he slipped a finger under your chin pointing it further up, “like this?”
You closed your eyes, feeling his plump lips tenderly catch yours. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted this until now. He always had the desire to taste your kiss and feel your skin. Now that he is, it didn’t feel real, like it was too good to be true, something that he shouldn’t have.
You broke away from his lips, slowly fluttering your eyelashes open, “Woah,” you whispered. He smiled a lop sided smile, before placing his lips back on yours, hungrily. 
You tugged at his soft hair on the nape of his neck, and he lifted you onto the cold counter. Your legs natural wrapped around Shawn’s waist and pulled him closer,, 
“Hello!”
You broke apart in a panic, breathing heavily from the heated moment. You heard the front door close, “Who’s here?” Shawn whispered quietly to you,
“y/n!” they called again,
“It’s Jaimie!” you hissed, shoving Shawn away to climb down from the counter, “Get in the closet!”
“What?” he asked baffled, as he stumbled backwards from your shoves against his chest, 
“Get in, and be quiet!” you said slamming the pantry door, “In here!”
Jaimie slugged around the corner, hood pulled over her head and large sunglasses sitting on the bridge of her nose with two ice coffees, each occupying a hand, “How are you not a zombie after last night?” she grumbled.
You caught your breathe and straightened out your shirt, trying to act as normal as possible, “I had- plenty of- water before bed,” you said fumbling over every word, 
“Speaking of beds, saw you leave with Shawn last night. Did he crawl in to yours after bringing you home?” she smirked.
This made you nervous. You’ve never been good at lying, and you weren’t ready to tell Jaimie about Shawn spending the night when you couldn’t even wrap your own head around it, “Uh, no he just dropped me off, said good night and left,” you fibbed, 
“I don’t believe that at all,”
A smug smirk bloomed on your face, as you remembered that Shawn was listening, and couldn’t contradict what you say next, “Okay, he drove me home, and stood on my doorstep like a lost puppy pleading to come in. I let him in and he tells me how jealous he is of Brayden hanging around me all the time,”
Shawn who has been anxiously waiting in the pantry, did not approve of your bullshit story and slipped out a quiet word of disbelief, “What?” he hissed,
“I knew it! I knew he hated that guy!” Jaimie exclaimed, throwing down her iced coffee,
“And he’s even been calling me non-stop all morning,”
A distinguishable thud was heard against the pantry door, by Shawn gently hitting his head off it, having enough of your story,
“What was that?” Jaimie asked,
“Probably, just the mouse. I’ve been meaning to set some traps,”
“Okay well I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at work, and I expect to hear the rest of this crazy night of yours,” Jaimie winked and headed back for the front door.  
Once it was shut, Shawn wasted no time in letting the pantry door creak open. He stood calmly and composed, with a raised eyebrow and wild eyes, “First, you tease me, then you make me look pathetic to our friend?” he pressed coolly, taking slow strides towards you. 
You sighed, thinking back to how his lips felt dangerously good on yours. You knew in the back of your mind that it wouldn’t lead to anything good if you let yourself do it again. You had to be smart and consider the worse case scenarios, “Don’t expect us making out to be a regular thing,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest,
“What? Why not?” he pushed, reaching for your waist.
You stopped his hands and took them in yours, giving them a squeeze, “I have to go to work,” you whispered.
Shawn stood puzzled and cocked his head to the side, letting you walk out of the room to get ready for work. 
You fanned your neck, glistening with a thin layer of sweat built up from waiting on tables, “When are they going to fix the AC in here?” you asked Jaimie as she set down dirty dishes from her last table,
“When are you going to see Shawn again?” she quipped quickly, as if she’s been waiting all evening to say it.
Your heart rate spiked from the mention of Shawn and you could almost feel his warm lips against yours again, “I’ll see him the next time we all hangout,” you played off, not making a big deal out of it,
“But he spent the night-”
“And nothing happened,” Part of you felt guilty that you may be leading Shawn on by inviting him in to your place last night, and blowing him off this morning after kissing him, but you just weren’t up for the risk of giving him your trust and seeing what he’ll do with it. He’s reckless, and carefree, which are two opposite things you look for in a partner of any kind,
“If that’s the truth, then it looks like he’s back for something more,” Jaimie stated while nodding her head in the direction if the booths before walking away. 
You turned, confused by what she was implying, until you locked eyes with the man occupying all yours thought. He sat placidly with his arm over the back rest of the booth, looking like he had all the time in the world and wanted to give it all to you. 
Begrudgingly, you made your way to him, holding eye contact that made your knees quiver, “Hey, you ready to order?” you asked Shawn, taking out your notepad from your apron once you made it to his table.
He didn’t answer and instead continued to sit silently, eyeing your features. You gave him a chance to speak before telling him, “If you’re not getting anything to eat than you can’t sit here much longer,”
Shawn smirked up at you, “What I want to eat, isn’t on the menu, sweets” he spoke in a gruff tone, running his tongue over his lips, and sending you a wink.
You felt heat trickling up your cheeks, looking around quickly to see if anyone else had heard his sentence, partially because you thought it was just your imagination, “Shawn, what are you doing here?” you shot at him,
“I just told you, I’m here for you. You can’t just kiss someone the way you did and not do anything about it after,”
“What do you mean? I kissed you, the end. You and I can go back to being friends,”
He laughed in disbelief. Ready to walk away from the conversation, you rocked on your heels, but nearly jumped two feet in the air when you felt a warm, rough hand gently brushed against your exposed thigh,
“No, no sweets,” Shawn began, “You started something I intend to finish, in a very memorable manor,” as he spoke, his hand slowly traced further up your leg.
You barely had the strength to move back, out of his reach, and immediately yearned for his touch to return, and continue the sweet feeling building up inside you,
“Ca-can we talk after my shift?” you stuttered,
“Anything you want, I’ll be waiting,”
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hysteriamodes · 4 years
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After watching “Gone Girl”.
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So, uh, I have an unpopular opinion. I’m no expert on criminal investigations, I listen to a bunch of true crime podcasts, one that has a co-host, a retired detective, Paul Holes. I’m also a survivor of CSA, so I know how it goes down once you file a case to police and talked to a detective. 
I can’t really say I like this movie completely -- don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, but... This is not how it works, lol.
It’s hard to really take a story seriously, knowing in real life that a criminal investigation into a disappearance would involve:
- Not just interviewing the spouse/significant other, interviewing those who have been previously romantically involved with someone. - Someone would have talked to Desi - Someone would have also looked into the stalking claims against Desi and if he was supposedly doing it electronically, there would have been a paper trail. Restraining orders are really hard to get. - If you buy a car and have to drive it, you need legitimate identification, have the title singed over, and register the car in your name, so the “getaway car” just seems so unfeasible to me. You can’t drive without plates, you’d get pulled over and sellers will take the plates from you. - Also, if you look on Craig’s List, it’s on your internet history. - They also would have had search warrants for electronic devices, including computers, and would have gone through that internet history. - You can pay cash for short-term rentals or hotels, but they still require ID. - Burner phones can be traced - “No body, no crime” -- the case built against Nick is completely circumstantial. Any rational prosecutor would have tossed it out and demanded more evidence, especially if no one’s double-checking for more suspects. The amount of blood they found at the crime scene is indicative of serious injury. Blunt-force injury like that as Amy claimed what happened would leave visible bruises, even for weeks, and would also have fractures. This lady rolls up (literally) to her husband  just covered in blood and has no sign of that other than sexual intercourse. -  CSI would have probed the convenient box cutter under the pillow, while she was supposedly tied up. I mean, seriously, what the hell? - Any investigator would be dubious of Amy’s responses during that interview. According to her, she was kidnapped and held for weeks, supposedly injured, and is so unusually cool.  - In the same vein, you would have a victim’s advocate to check in on you and they too would fin that unusual.  - They would bother to check Nick’s alibis, whereabouts, and where he was, so therefore, the credit card debt would look extremely dubious. Transaction IDs wouldn’t line up if Nick was out of the house, doing his thing, and Amy is buying stuff with his credit cards while he’s at work. Just saying. - Any smart investigator would have looked at the security footage of Desi and Amy calmly strolling up through the lake house, not of her being dragged in or at least sedated. Anyone sharp enough would have noticed that.  - Desi’s phone would also have been traceable, so they would find out where he went, the casino, and there would have been security footage of Amy and Desi meeting. - Who’s to say that the people that robbed Amy didn’t notice. That woman saw through her shitty disguise and said nothing.  There was a reward posted for finding Amy; that woman also could have called into the tip line and report her stay at this hotel or whatever. - The “clues”. A sensible person would have found them oh, so, convenient.  - The “best friend” would have been interviewed, they would also disclose how long their friendship has been. - The hormone that comes up during pregnancy, that’s been diluted in water, wouldn’t be so potent enough to test... I’m still wondering what Amy’s motives were, she didn’t show Nick. She only showed her “friend” and it’s still not clear to me if the investigators checked into this. 
I guess because I’m on the aro-ace spectrum, I probably don’t appreciate what this movie says about relationships and their roles and perceptions, but my thoughts were that Amy is clearly a sociopath, she has a troubled history, and that would have came up during investigations. Not to mention, Amy is just too Perfect, to the point she supposedly outwits the FBI. These are the same folks that work in more notorious disappearances, murders, and profiling outside of a self-absorbed couple. It just reminds me that law enforcement doesn’t take women criminals a seriously compared to men. Women are just as capable of absolute sociopathy as men, though there aren’t as many sociopathic women. Women that commit murder, schemes, and behave like this operate on a completely level compared to men.
The bottom line is, women that are criminals are underestimated and that’s what I saw in this movie. Sure, Nick is an absolute asshole, but he at least was knocked down a peg to see his own faults, even going as far as saying he won’t end the marriage for the sake of his unborn child (and... don’t get me started how Amy just conveniently came up with Nick’s sperm sample, after she said to him she didn’t want kids) upon discovering he’s going to be a father.
Amy could have ended this marriage in a divorce and bled him dry of his money. She could have ceased that bar, sold it, even take his sister to court because she was a co-owner, too. And given the “Amazing Amy” books, Nick still would have been publicly humiliated and even more humiliation would have came to him. A teacher, a well-known writer, having an affair with his students? I mean, come on. His friends would dump his ass, too.
Instead, Amy over-reacts, concocts this supposed disappearance and fabricated murder, in the 21st century, where even in the mid 2010s, you are completely traceable. Amy could have disposed of evidence all she wants, but the fact remains, people are nosy as fuck and would have noticed any of this shit. Amy, realistically, wouldn’t get away with this forever; she’d be sent to prison for life.  
Amy isn’t like Thomason or Dani, she is a selfish, manipulative, and petty person. Thomason and Dani were true victims of circumstance and were so horribly traumatized, so caught up in hysteria and apathy subjected to them by men. Amy isn’t a victim; she had every chance to walk out of this, take ownership. If I was around a guy like Nick? I would have left him a long time ago. And I know that this whole movie is based on perception, but someone who’s so clearly narcissistic and so devoid of personality that she molds herself into the ideal “cool girl” would wise up and find another way, but no.
Yes, there is an argument that “women are crazy here”, but I just... I can’t. 
I found myself more frustrated with this movie, so riddled with continuity errors and that it’s so unrealistic, with a narrator that may or may not be lying to the audience, who is also Completely Prefect and Untouchable that she’s practically a Mary Sue. 
I’m also mad because there is a perception that women can make fake rape allegations and are already portrayed as conniving and scheming, and I feel like this movie just completely fed into these stereotypes. I will concede that it was likely doing that on purpose, but still, it’s not helping!  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, everyone was really cool in it, and I’m sure the book is very different, but holy shit, this is like a bad episode of Law & Order: SVU.
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yyuryyubicuryy4me · 5 years
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two Mysteries of Asexuality
i don’t know who i’m writing to but idk where else to put my thoughts i’ve newly hidden this post under a readmore so that you don’t have to suffer scrolling thru it
1. the Mystery of Normalcy
while talking with people, i’ve realized that Asexual Tendencies (in the purely sexual sense of the word) come up MUCH more often than you’d think. i’m talking the full range of experiences under what we can call the Asexual Umbrella. when i was younger i tried to offer the matching labels to these people like “oh, then you’re probably [label]!” but my friends all thought it would be weird to use a label just for being Normal.
OBVIOUSLY there are a ton of people online who ID with ace community terms and have built communities around those same terms, because they feel very Abnormal. so what is “normalcy” with relationship to attraction? what gives some people the confidence to strut through life and not bat an eye about their asexuality, and how come other people feel so alienated? is it just your experiences with this stuff as you grow older? i know part of what made me so uncomfortable about myself when i started realizing i was different is that i grew up very, very lonely in really sexualized corners of the internet
2. the Mystery of Perception
the world can be divided into two realms: the realm that is fluent in the rhetoric of asexuality popularized through the Internet in the early 2000s, and the rest of the world. the concept of romantic orientation seems to have developed in Internet groups focused on asexuality, and the concept of dual romantic&sexual orientations has become standard Internet education. by this i mean i think that most people who haven’t heard of asexuality don’t see my asexuality as a lack of specifically sexual attraction, just a lack of attraction to people in general. and when i introduce myself as asexual, i mean just that: i don’t experience attraction. no further specifications. and i think it’s true that 99% of the time when someone uses a label like bisexual they mean “i’m attracted to people of multiple genders” with no further specifications.
HOWEVER when i say “i’m asexual” many people, without being prompted on the romantic/sexual orientation dichotomy, without knowing anything about Internet communities of asexual people, ask me “oh? so you just don’t like people in a sex way but you’re still into romance?” which i find bizarre, because that’s not how those people think about their own identites & labels... you, Mr. Straight, classify and experience all sexual and romantic feelings towards other people as simply “Attraction” and yet suddenly when you talk to me, in my specific case, it’s split up?
if you go to that very first blog post about being asexual, before any community had been formed, the author seems to define her asexuality has not experiencing Attraction. just no Attraction. like a holistic definition of asexual, what i usually use. and then people in the comments identify in the way that’s more popular today, saying “oh i’m so glad you wrote this! i’m straight and asexual and i’ve never heard anyone talk about it!” seeming to be using dual orientations. so What Is The Truth? what are we talking about when we talk about Attraction? what are other people talking about when they talk about Attraction? how do we make it clearer what exactly we’re talking about? what’s the most efficient and realistic way to express our relationships to Attraction?
3.
there aren’t straight answers (haha) to these questions and i don’t expect any. i’m just kind of thinking out loud. sorry guys for clogging your dashes up
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wrencatte · 5 years
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SO! FFXV/pacific rim au. okay okay....a lot of this will be under cut because I have so so so many things but not enough to write a fic. @yorimei this is for you!
there is no magic, obviously.
 the thing that makes Caelums special is that they can drift with literally anyone--some have stronger compatibility, yeah, but it’s always stable.
and Regis is the only known person to drift a jaeger alone
 Lucis and Niflheim aren’t at war (there’s a friendly rivalry, but their countries worked together to create the jaegers).
 There’s more cities (some places share in game names but are...bigger now. Like Crestholm Channels is now Crestholm City, a coast city in Leide) 
(which lemme tell you, this was before I played the game so I had no idea Crestholm was a dungeon...I think id be funny if the shatterdomes were named after dungeons...hmm)
and Lucis is a country that only takes up the Cavaugh continent, Insomnia it’s capital city and the largest city in the world. Leide, Duscae, and Cleigne are their own countries
over the course of x amount of years there are 23 jaegers. 5 Mark 1s. 7 Mark 2s. 4 Mark 3s. 4 Mark 4s. and 3 Mark 5s. (only three characters who pilot them don’t show up in the game: Cloud and Zack (because I couldn't resist, guess which jaeger they pilot) and Stella (who pilots with Pelna). 
Mk 1s are: Light Vitalise (piloted by Regis and Clarus, the first jaeger to be made, dropped down, and killed Iseultalon, the sixth kaiju and heading for Insomnia). Dragoon Drain. Omni Just (Weskham and Jared). Cross Specter. and Ace Rogue (Cor and Monica)
only 1 jaeger from the mark 1 generation is still going, it was one of the last ones made, has the most kaiju kills, and it generally a badass (take a guess who that is hahaha...I’m subtle)
when a jaeger goes down it’s usually scrapped to make a new one as that costs less than fixing it, the pilots either are dead or they go with it, but when a Caelum is involved, they go to a new drift.
Mk 2s are: Terra Fury (Ignis/Noctis they go down with 2 kills). Breaker Wave. Tacit Ruin (Cailgo and Loqi). Daemon Fierce. Striker Rampage. Divine Typhoon (Wedge and Biggs). Crow Intercept (Nyx and Libertus).
I honestly can’t remember the status of most of the Mk 2 jaegers when we get into the story timeline (which is around the mk 3/mk 4 area), but I know that Terra Fury (Ignis/Noct) get 2 kills in before it’s ripped apart and scrapped for a Mk 3 (also guess which one) and I know Crow Intercept and Striker Rampage are definitely still going.
Mk 3s are: Gaia Assassin (Ignis and Gladio). Tsunami Tango (Luna and Crow). Buster Recon. and Aster Prophet (Ardyn and Noct).
Aster Prophet goes down on it’s first intercept without ever engaging the kaiju (a Cat III codename Marilith). In fact it goes down without ever moving.
Ardyn is actually Uncle Ardyn Caelum. He’s....different.
(really he thought if he could study how the kaiju worked they could win against these monsters....he just went about it the wrong way and unfortunately it’s twisted him now)
(noct is really their best hope at a lot of things: he’s drift compatible with everyone, quick on his feet, able to adapt scary fast to any kaiju coming out of the ocean. And his dad was one of the first jaeger pilots, the first to kill a kaiju with Clarus. He’s got a lot on his shoulders)
Anyway! Aster Prophet goes down and goes down hard. When the rescue copters get to it Ardyn is gone and Noctis is comatose (I have no idea where Ardyn went honestly)
This hits a lot of people hard. 
Noct is like....a lot of people’s mascot? His dad is the Marshal of Marshal and he’s been to all the shatterdomes (which I’m sure I have a list of shatterdowns somewhere) and they were all use to Noct being there even if he complained all the time they loved him
because when it came down to it, he worked just as hard as the rest of them and had no problems getting dirty and lending a helping hand.
when Noct wakes up, he’s just not the same anymore and no one knows what to do 
and the kaiju just keep coming....and coming....and coming. so much more often now. 
And people are dying...
Mk 4s are: Judgement Bolt. Diamond Dust. Lady Fickle (Stella and Pelna) and Phoenix Quick (Aranea and Prompto).
Prompto! He is a normal kid born in Niflheim. His dad was killed in....Ueltham (where is that other than Niflheim, I don’t know, but I know it’s a city) by a bomb dropped to kill the third kaiju (which I’d originally named Snaga and now playing the game it might fit? Idk)
He doesn’t blame anyone for it but the kaiju but hitchhikes his way to the Insomnia Shatterdome to work as j-crew (mechanics on the jaegers)
him and aranea become fast friends as she waited to find someone she was compatible with since her last one (Crowe) was more compatible with someone else (Luna) before they even entered a real jaeger
(hint hint they’re compatible)
their launch in Phoenix Quick is officially one month after the Aster Prophet disaster, but they were launched unofficially for Marilith (but it didn’t matter because it never came close to them since they were in the Pelles Shatterdown with Nyx and Libertus in Crow Intercept)
At this moment I am now realizing I forgot about Ravus, but I think he might be a Marshal (his and Luna’s mom is a Marshal)
Okay now we’re getting into less detailed outlines of stuff
Mk 5s are: Obsidian Star. Holy Ultima. And Pyre Brave
This part is complicated since I didn’t fully flesh it out.
Phoenix Quick is decommissioned after 1 kill when the powers that be decided to scrap it and use it to make a mk 5. (They end up not using much of it)
Aranea moves to be a rotate pilot for Luna and Crowe
Prompto becomes even faster friends with a withdrawn Noctis.
Which, lemme tell you, literally everyone held their breath the first time Noct laughed after the Aster Prophet disaster.
And it was all because of prompto
A new jaeger is built Obsidian Star. but no pilots.
Holy Ultima is built, but no pilots
Then Pyre Brave comes out of fucking nowhere and starts ATTACKING other jaegers
Pyre Brave is piloted by Titus and Luche and was made by Ardyn and Verstael
….which doesn’t make any sense because Verstael helped make the jaeger program????
(hint: it’s Ardyn and the Precursors’ fault)
So Regis and Clarus give it one more try in Holy Ultima even though they dying from their first jaeger attempt (radiation is a bitch)
And they fail
and die
Noct doesn’t take this...well
He and Prompto hijack Obsidian Star from being tested by veterans and new recruits a like
and go after Pyre Brave with Gaia Assassin
(oh no I forgot about Iris and Talcott...or did I? I think I made them J crew or something)
and, honestly, that’s all I got for this jaeger/people/lot wise
all kaiju are named after daemons (and the zu)
The first one was Starscourge. It aimed for Crestholm City, Leide first. Destroyed it, travelled to Coernix in Duscae (I know this isn’t on the coast, I tweaked geography), and killed thousands of people before the LAF and the AN (Lucian Air Force and Accordian Navy) killed it.
The third Kaiju is Snaga. The sixth is Iseultalon. 
I’m sure I have a list of kaiju in order and who killed them, but I can���t find it right now
I honestly think that’s all I have for this
hope someone enjoys this!
thanks!
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starrypawz · 5 years
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(I’d rather not have this post rbed, this is vent and this has been building up on me for a bit, this post might get deleted) 
I know part of my problem here was ‘tumblr gonna tumblr’ and ‘I need to resist the urge to look at train wrecks’
But basically there’s a specific tumblr user who kind of gets up my nose atm  and I’m aware of them because of their previous involvement in the ‘ace discourse’ sphere of bullshit. 
And they claim to ‘not really care’ anymore about ace discourse and they’re also involved in the queer discourse side of things. Like they’ve been involved in some of the like really weird shitty twist the discourse seem to have taken from ‘I don’t personally use the term’ to ‘Let’s like mock people who id as queer and start using it as an insult’ 
And yet again they’ve said several times they ‘Don’t really care about this issue that much’ and implied they found it ‘funny to annoy people but like maybe I’ve gone a bit too far’ 
So like I’m just sitting here like ‘Ok so you apparently don’t care about this issue but are in it for the lols and you keep posting provocative stuff to piss people off and you’ve been downright mean to several people?’
Like just... don’t post? If you really do not care just don’t. Simple please just do us all a favour and 
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Also this person pulls a lot of ‘dish it out and can’t take it moves’,like they can mock other blogs but when it gets turned around on them they basically pull a 
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And they’re literally like ‘oh my god why are these weirdos obsessed with me’ when it’s like they’ve built their internet ‘fame’ off being an edgy exclusionary sort so like you know exactly what you’ve done.
This is some Mean Girl’s level nonsense seriously. 
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jaimistoryteller · 6 years
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OC/Author PrideFest Question Mess Part 2
Thanks for the tag @raevenlywrites! I am now up to all the people who liked my post with the link character list having received at least one (mostly more) questions from me.
Rules I am going with: answer the questions you know or are comfortable sharing, tag others, add a question if you feel like something is missing.
Note: I will be answering in three different posts, one per section, rather than all together because of how many questions there are.
Questions for you:
Introduce yourself! Tell us a little bit about you and what you write
Why do you write LGBT+ characters?
Have you always written LGBT+ characters? If no, what inspired you to start? Is it a deliberate representational choice?
Do you use modern labels in your work? Why or why not?
World builders: do you have any neat societal twists? (unique names for IDs, different marriage practices, etc.)
Do you write outside your own experiences? (cis writing trans, wlw writing mlm, etc.) If yes, how confident do you feel about it?
Tell us about a favorite book/character someone else wrote that inspired you (or just plain gave you a warm and fuzzy)
Any advice for someone else writing LGBT+ characters?
Would you like people to ask you more questions when this is over?
Free space! Wax poetic about something near and dear to your heart.
Questions for your Ocs (in character or out, dealer’s choice):
Going to answer these like I would a Q&A post, with the first three characters that comes to mind for each question. 
Say hi! Let us get to know you, you big beautiful person, you!
Sparks  *grins and waves* I definitely qualify as big at 6′9, sadly I lost some height due to my teenage activities. Sitara and Aither both think I look good, though really I don’t see it half the time. 
Lettie *snickers and gives a graceful bow* I always startle people with the fact I am not clumsy. Too many skinny and slender folks need to get the idea out of their head that big does not equal able. I enjoy having clothes altered for me and enjoying as people stare at how perfectly I carry myself. 
Lo *smiles and invites everyone in for tea or other beverage of choice* what would you like to discuss? There are plenty of things I know, both about the Network and the world in general. *they play with the many bracelets on their left arm*
How do you feel about the world your author has created for you?
Aither - it’s better than the world the author lives in. Seriously, the author needs a few people like myself and Jon to help deal with some problems in the government, and if our more diplomatic (aka hacking for those who don’t know) methods don’t know, well, we have access to bunch of assassins, not even counting our significant others. 
[Author: seriously Aither?]
Lo *listens to the question as they settle on their seat, adjusting their robe like outfit to fan out* there are times I wish it was a bit more accepting of people like myself. However, Aither is correct in saying it is much better than the one the author is from. 
[Author: this is going to be a thing.]
Tichina - I am a solidly built WOC in a position of power and respected. While there have been struggles in my life, there have been a lot of times that are better than expected. I am able to save my kids (the teenagers and young adults on my sports teams and in my neighborhood) from the gangs and lives of poverty through education and opportunity. That counts for a lot considering out parallel world is not nearly as forgiving from my understanding. 
[Author: *sighs dramatically* this is what I get for being honest with them.]
Are you out? To whom, why or why not, etc?
Jon - pretty much everyone who has ever met me realizes that I am not quite like  the majority of people. Particularly if they start talking about how hot or attractive someone is. 
Isaac - I came out to my family as genderfluid and was promptly kicked out, since then I don’t really talk about it, I just live it.
Nazreen - only to my soulmates am I out. To everyone else I tell them to mind their business.
Tell us a little about your journey. Have you always IDed the way you do now? Are there parts of you you’re still figuring out?
Vasilia - I spent my childhood perfectly content as a boy, it wasn’t until I started going through puberty that I started feeling off. At which point I started lashing out. 
At everyone. It was the guard, Isa, that actually helped me realize what was going on as I watched them move around with complete confidence in the fact that they are not a man or a woman. 
Uncle Akaal put in some huge libraries in the building when we first moved in that are always being added to. Actually, those might be from Uncle Isha and Luc, and Aunt Aither. Anyways, I was able to do some research in them. I went through several labels before realizing I am a transwoman. My siblings and cousins were supportive along the way, and Uncle Akaal made sure I had everything I needed or wanted to try. 
Isaak - I’m still figuring myself out. I’m pretty sure that I am uninterested in sex, not sure if it’s because I am demi, ace, or simply haven’t met anyone I find appealing enough because I am picky. Or maybe it’s because of how focused I am on my studies. I’m not sure. *shrugs* at least I know my family will be supportive no matter how it goes. 
Marie - the first thing I realized when I entered puberty is the fact I like women, not men. My parents trying to have the safe sex talk with me was a hoot, at least looking back on that talk it was. At the time I blushed up a storm. 
Do you feel settled in your ID, or do you think it might change as you and your author go on?
Isaak - it’ll probably change since it’s not firm at this point. Besides, I’m four when the author meets me, and in my late teens when I start babbling about what I want with my future, there is plenty of time for growth and discovery. I have an entire book, maybe more to grow in! (thank you @lady-redshield-writes @essagandana @raevenlywrites and @ratracechronicler for encouraging the author on that. I love the fact I get a moon base farm!!!)
[Author: *sighs*]
Ioanna - I don’t know who I am. I hope to find out at some point, right now I am simply hurt and confused most the time, so I hope it will change as we go!
Diego - I like growing and changing, and hopefully I will continue to do so. I also like surprising the author, because it’s fun! Beside, the very nature of science is change. 
[Author: does anyone else’s characters make a point of driving them up a wall?]
Did your author always know you were [blank], or did you have to tell them? If yes, oh please, please tell us how! :3
Nazreen - I had to inform the author of my nature and I took my time doing so because I don’t like to talk about myself or share private details. The author only figured it out because I am sex repulsed and have a male soulmate who is not. Though he has been very good to me, accepting my boundaries in a way my ex-husband never did. 
Aither - oh yeah, the author always knew I was pan, even before knowing the actual word for it. Back then omnis-nihil which is extremely choppy Latin for ‘all-any’. 
Arona - no, the author didn’t always know, that detail was figured out when I had a freak out over the fact that I’m intersex and that’s why I haven’t gone through puberty like my sisters. It also happened to be the day my first soulmark started to appear. 
Is being [blank] particularly hard in your world? How does your society treat you differently than ours might?
Lo *makes sure everyone has drinks as they consider the answer* for the most part I am left alone and to my own devices. From my understanding of the author’s world, I would have probably ended up leaving my home and becoming a traveler trying to find a safe haven. Although, I have a feeling I wouldn’t be able to unless I bought an island in the middle of nowhere since things seem to be getting worse in the author’s world, not better.
[Author: really Lo? You couldn’t have just left it at ‘my world’s better?]
No. 
Isaac - being genderfluid can be complicated. It’s not one of the socially accepted ‘norms’ so people can be idiots about it. In a lot of ways they are the same, I can’t think of anything major different. Maybe I wouldn’t have been able to get a job quite so easily? Dunno. 
Aaron - it’s considered perfectly normal, so it is ignored by most. In the author’s world I might have had to worry about bigots or conversion therapy. The fact I am markless is more tricky than my orientation. 
Tell us a little about your unique experiences with your ID. Do you experience dysphoria? Is it impossible to find a date? Just want to find that special someone for snuggles but everyone expects sex? Unload for a minute, it’s okay to struggle sometimes.
Jamie - while rare, there are times I have to deal with dysphoria, that happens more on days I have a sudden shift from masculine to feminine. Particularly if the shift involves feeling like my chest is suddenly too flat. 
Dates are generally easy for me. I’m good at getting people to take me to dinner, dancing, movies, whatever sort of activity I feel like doing that night. 
I enjoy sex but get tired of having to explain myself first, so it doesn’t happen often. I don’t really trust people, so finding someone to snuggle with gets complicated at times because of that little detail. 
I work off a lot of frustrations in my grifting. Particularly on jerks who like to cause problems for people like me. It’s actually how I met Aither actually.
Vasilia - my dysphoria was a large part of why I was lashing out, as soon as it was identified Uncle Akaal made sure I got what I needed to help with it. There was some trial and error as we figured it out, and boy did I feel awkward discussing it with my Uncle, so he talked to Uncle Isha who then put me in touch with some other transladies. 
I’m a teenager for most of the story, and working on figuring out who I like so those don’t really apply yet?
I have bad days where I wish I would have been born a lady without having to go through all the processes to become one. I sometimes wish that I could have children, even though I know it’s probably never going to have. I want to be the carrier mother, even if I can’t be. Those thoughts are more common as I get older and my soulmarks start to appear. A lot of times on those days I end up curled up with my sister. She holds me while I cry and mourn what I can’t have. 
[Author: none of the others feels like discussing it right now.]
What’s the best part about being [blank] in your world?
[Author: no one is answering...really? I got over 500 of you peeps and no one wants to answer? Fine. Moving on.]
Do you like getting fan-mail? Would you like people to ask you more questions when this is over?
Lo *beams as they check that everyone still has their refreshments* I would love fan-mail or to have people asking me questions!
Sparks - ask away, I’m sure I am the most boring one in the bunch, but I know a lot of things due to years of working for and dating Aither. 
Vara - I dare you to ask me things.
Grab that mic! Drop some truth on us, something you’ve just been dying to share! Shout out to your besties!
Mara {I didn’t like all the traveling with my handler but I love my human. My human needs me. My human often thinks he isn’t a good human but he is. His mates think he’s great and scent mark him often to reassure him of this. I don’t think he understands. He will in time. I’ll help him.}
[Author: apparently Iov’s service dog would like you to know she love’s her human.]
Sela - my twinlets are awesome! They could have been jerks about the fact I am technically two days younger, instead they declared the three of us have the same birthday. I hope they know how much I love them. 
Pyotr  *rubbing his neck nervously before straightening up to sign* I adore both my soulmates. Never sould I have guessed having a platonic soulmate, a non-romantic platonic soulmate would be in the cards for me, but it’s just right. We’re the best of friends, and I wouldn’t trade Marie for anyone else in the world.  
Questions for either you or your OCs:
What’s your orientation and gender? Wave that flag!!!
When did you realize you were LGBT+?
What makes your heart melt?
Do you have a favorite LGBT+ song? Movie? Book? Artist? (comic?)
Do you have a secret crush outside of your own work? Some wild crossover OTP?
Tell us about your LGTB+ headcannons (I’d really love to see someone’s character answer this)
What’s your favorite thing about being LGBT+?
Is there a cool place you like to hang out with your squad? Maybe an LGBT+ meet up?
What are some things you do to keep positive?
Do you have any advice for young LGBT+ people?
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
Tagging some peeps I am getting to know off the writer peeps spreadsheet so they can see my answers or do them as they feel fit.
@racqueljoneswritings  @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword @minor-writer @lexa-scribbles and @ally-thorne
Part 1 and Part 3
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Resource Management, pt27
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Word Count: 2507 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77
Author’s note: WELCOME TO CANADA!!
“Barbie Broughton? Are you fucking kidding me? Barbie? Really?” I looked at the ID. My face, and the horrible name. Colonel Rhodes had made me a captain though. That wasn’t too bad.
“It was the best I could do on short notice, Annie,” Tony rolled his eyes.
“You named me Barbie, Tony! I hope no one pulls me over,” I muttered. Colonel Rhodes leaned against the counter, watching me serve dinner.
“You’ll have to use it to check into hotels, sign credit card slips. Decide now how you want to be addressed.” He stole a wing from the plate.
“Ugh. I suppose Barbara will have to do,” I sighed.
“Think of this as an adventure, Annie.” Tony traded me a fresh beer for his dinner plate. We settled in for dinner. I steered the conversation away from everything wrong in the world, and instead we talked about the sights I was bound to be able to see on my drive. Despite having grown up in Canada, I’d never strayed too far from home before leaving to work for SHIELD. I was looking forward to seeing so much of country.
Pepper arrived and joined us for dinner. She had left a huge pile of shopping bags in the hallways. I soon learned everything there was intended for me. It was too much, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted my cover so thorough and complete that I wasn’t to touch my own things until I was settled in at Tony’s cabin. She went through each bag with me carefully. The woman had impeccable taste. She’d even bought me a Lulu Lemon sweatshirt, saying she saw a lot more of it when she was in Canada than she did elsewhere. I’d never been able to justify the extravagance of Lulu Lemon before, and pulled the sweatshirt on right away. I tucked the rest of the new clothes into the new bags she had purchased for me, and zipped them closed. Tony met me in the hallway and held out a messenger bag.
“What’s this?”
“You need to leave your laptop behind. This is a new one. I’ve left some notes and directions on it. For checking in with me, and the like. No porn, Annie. Here is your new shiny credit card. There’s $500 in cash in the front pocket of the bag. Have you got a gun?” He held out the credit card. I slipped it into the wallet that Pepper had bought me. Again, the woman had impeccable taste.
“I’m going to Canada, Tony, there’s laws about hand guns,” I argued.
“You need a gun. Don’t tell me you don’t have one.” His tone was sharp.
“Alright, yes. My super gave me his service revolver.” I dug into the shoulder bag and pulled it out.
“Ammo?” He asked. I dug out the two boxes of bullets that Bob had handed me. Tony opened them up to check and started laughing. He shook one of the boxes and a roll of bills slid out. It had to be at least a thousand dollars.
“Oh my god!” I gasped, “That man deserves to be sainted. He couldn’t afford to give me that! Tony, you have to make sure he gets it back.”
“Of course.” He nodded and put aside the one box. “You’re going to need extra ammo. I’ll get someone to meet us at the airport with it.”
“I suppose I need to get comfortable with this, don’t I?” I swallowed back my nerves.
“Time is wasting, Annie. Let’s get going.” He gestured toward the elevator and followed me down the hall, dragging my suitcase behind him.
When I was a kid, my dad had always called Toronto ‘The Big Smoke’. I don’t know where it came from, and I knew about 4 other cities that also boasted the nickname, but whenever anyone said it, I always thought of Toronto. My mum had always called it Hogtown, and I grew up calling it T.O., which, when I googled it as an adult, I learned was a generational thing. Any way you looked at it, Toronto was a big, sprawling metropolitan mess. It was bigger than Vancouver, not as pretty, but definitely more famous. From my view, out the wing window of the Stark Industries jet, it looked like another big city to get lost in. I hoped for a GPS in whatever vehicle Pepper had arranged for me.
“Okay, Annie, it’s showtime. Let’s get the suit on.” Tony gestured to the back of the cabin. I followed him to the open space before the galley. He put down what looked like a red and gold suitcase and tapped it with his toe. I assumed that I should starfish, and I was glad I did. The suit snapped onto me, battering me in the process. It was not built for a woman, let alone a woman with my bust. My chest felt tight, and I immediately had issues breathing.
“Tony, I don’t know if this is going to work. I can hardly breathe. It’s crushing my boobs,” I was a little breathless. He bit back a smirk and tapped at the tablet he was holding. The suit loosened just enough that I didn’t feel like I might collapse from lack of oxygen.
“Let me know where else is bothering you. Still sore from your roll down the freeway?” He watched the suit clicking into place with a critical eye, looking down every few seconds to tap something into the tablet. It always resulted in immediate relief from something pinching me.
“Am I still going to look like Iron Man in this? Because if you keep letting out seams to accommodate my lady parts, I’m going to look like Iron Vixen,” I commented when the chestplate loosened again. Pepper snorted into the back of her hand. Tony pursed his lips and squinted.
“If you jet off as quick as you can, no one will really notice.”
“This assumes I can figure out how to make your damn suit work,” I laughed.
“I’ve got J.A.R.V.I.S. set to autopilot you. You just need to put your hands at your sides, and everything will go to plan. There’s coordinates set for the Stark Industries plant, which is where we will meet you,” he explained.
“And you think the Stark Industries plant is safe?” I asked. I was worried it would be being watched.
“It’s a calculated risk, Annie. We have to hope we’re not being watched,” Pepper offered. The helmet and mask snapped onto my head and I had a moment of panic and claustrophobia before the heads-up display flashed on, and J.A.R.V.I.S. started talking to me. I saw Tony and Pepper sit back down for the landing, and tried to brace myself, thinking I might topple over. But the suit was pretty awesome and the pilot was exceptionally smooth. When the plane taxied to a stop, Pepper signaled to me to follow her to the door. When the door opened, she nodded and J.A.R.V.I.S. took over, flying me out of the airport’s airspace at a low altitude that wouldn’t interfere with the planes. J.A.R.V.I.S. informed me that the pilot had received clearance for us to fly away. The sensation of flying in the Iron Man suit was not what I was expecting at all. I think we all have that dream about the air rushing through your hair, and lightness and freedom. I felt like I was in a steel prison. The only way I knew I was moving was by watching the world pass by below me. It was surreal.
Tony had bought me a Jeep Cherokee. Correction. Tony had bought Barbie Broughton a Jeep Cherokee. Thankfully, it wasn’t a brand new one. It was stocked with a bunch of camping gear, and was in exactly the right condition for a road trip: just a little beat up on the exterior, but tuned impeccably in the engine.
“Annie, promise me you won’t take any stupid risks. I have enough to worry about with him,” Pepper placed a hand on my arm. “And think about dyeing your hair tonight. Just to be safe.”
“Cross my heart, Pepper. Thank you so much,” I threw my arms around her impulsively. She took a short step back before returning the hug. Tony put his arms around both of us and squeezed his way in between us somehow.
“Can you blame me for wanting to be the meat in the sandwich?” He asked when we pushed him away. I shook my head, and pulled him close.
“I can’t even put into words, Tony. I never thought in a million years you would be this good, decent and kind. Thank you so much.”
“Stop, I’ll cry,” he teased. “The GPS in the Jeep will get you where you are going. J.A.R.V.I.S. is linked to it and to your laptop. You have your own encrypted hotspot for internet. Don’t pick up hitchhikers, and don’t linger too long anywhere. You’re on leave after a tour in Iraq, so you aren’t going to waste time getting to your family’s cabin in BC to get away from the world. And Pepper’s right. Think about hair colour. I’m fond of red myself.”
“I got it, Dad.” I winked at Pepper. Tony put the keys in my hand and gave me one last look before sighing and turning back to the building. I climbed into the Jeep, plugged in the iPod he’d handed me with the keys and turned the engine over. AC/DC came blasting through the speakers and I smiled. It was going to be a long drive, but I was finally on my way.
Northern Ontario was the longest, dullest, most horrible stretch of road I’d ever had the bad luck of driving. There was nothing to see, except trees as far as the eye could see. I might have enjoyed it more, but I was trying to cover as much ground as I could before I stopped. In a perfect world, where I wasn’t worried about HYDRA and Garrett, I would have stopped at Sault Ste Marie, but it was just too close to the border. I wound up stopping in Sudbury for some supplies early in the drive, but then I drove until I couldn’t focus on the road anymore, and wound up in a tiny town called Marathon. I found a hotel and crashed for the night. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. In the morning, after checking in my email with Tony and sending him a photo of the giant nickel in Sudbury, I walked over to the hair salon.
“Good morning!” There was a single woman in the shop. She was probably in her late twenties, and she had a welcoming smile. It was reassuring. “What can I help you with?”
“If you have an appointment available, I’m looking for a new look,” I started.
“I can fit you in right now. What are you thinking?”
“I’d like to try a different colour, go shorter.” I took a deep breath. I was pretty attached to my two-inches-past-regulation hair.
“Bad break up?” She asked, giving me a sympathetic look.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well, honey, let’s start by washing that man out of your hair,” she pointed at the sink. I followed her over and let her go to work. I was worried that the only hair salon in a town of 3000 people on the Canadian Shield was a tragedy waiting to happen. She cut my hair shorter than I would have liked, but in the end, once I washed all the product out of it, I thought I would be quite happy with the cut. It would still go into a ponytail, and she’d given me flowy layers around my face that softened my cheekbones and jaw. I’d suggested a chestnut brown, and despite my best effort to stick to my guns, she eventually convinced me that going brunette would be too stark against my pale skin. I wound up a strawberry blonde that was eerily reminiscent of Pepper’s hair colour. I wasn’t going to tell Tony.
“I love it,” I admitted with complete honesty.
“A little less Barbie now, wouldn’t you say? You must get that all the time,” the hairdresser laughed.
“I do,” I admitted with a sigh, “maybe I should have gone red a long time ago.”
“Well, you’re red now, and no one is going to call you Barbie for a good long time.” I left a sizeable tip and found the coffee shop before hitting the road again.
It took me two days to drive out of Ontario. I stopped in Kenora overnight, and sent Tony a picture of the giant fish that was the highlight of Kenora’s roadside. I was completely astonished to blow through all of Manitoba the next day, landing for the night in Saskatchewan. It was so incredibly flat, I was reasonably sure I could already see the Rockies. I couldn’t, of course, but I felt like I could. The Timbits in Saskatchewan were significantly better than the ones I’d had in New York, and I felt like I wanted to tell someone, but I stopped myself from sharing with the old guys sitting beside me at the Tim Horton’s in Yorkton. They didn’t look like HYDRA, they looked like old dude farmers, but I didn’t want to risk it.
I sent a quick email to Tony updating him of my location, and let him know I expected to be on the road for another two days at least. If I were lucky, it would only be two more days. I’d had too many close calls to want to stop for longer than a quick stop for a toilet and cup of coffee. It was killing me to stay more than a few hours a night at a hotel, and I found that I was napping in rest stops quite a bit to compensate for my habit of leaving as the sun rose. It would be good to get to my destination. Double-checking the map was a double-edged sword. Tony’s cabin, which I was sure was not so much a cabin as a palace in the woods run on an ARC reactor, was less than two hours from my mother’s house. From my childhood home. In my hometown. That I had to drive through to get to his cabin.
I hadn’t been home in ten years, but my hometown wasn’t a vast sprawling city like Toronto or Vancouver. It was a small city that prided itself on small city culture. If I ran into one person who recognized me, the whole cloak and dagger routine would be blown, and HYDRA would know exactly where I was. With my current luck, there were probably already HYDRA thugs in town waiting for me.
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Text
Found: One Stray, No Tags (Chapter Three)
Summary: Alfredo wants very few things in his life after his last gang falls apart. He wants a quiet life with his plants and his games. To make some connections. But Los Santos is a grinder, it takes people like him and twists them, bends them to its will.
He makes a mistake. He crosses the wrong people and now he has to serve in the most feared crew in an effort to avoid a harsher punishment. But in a world where magic is in half the population and there’s a family in the crew who holds his leash, maybe he can find a something a little better than debts paid.
Rating: M
Tags: GTA AU, Magic, Crew as Family, Found Family
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
At ten to ten the next morning, just as the orderly was settling Alfredo's arm in a sling, there was a knock. "Come in." He called out and a there was a brief hesitance before it opened to reveal a runty looking kid in slacks and a polo.
"I'm your escort this morning, Mr. Diaz. Are you ready to go?" Alfredo looked towards his orderly who nodded.
"You're as good as you're going to be, dude. I've put the pain killers and antibiotics in your pack. Caleb will be by nightly for the next week for some spot healing." He turned towards the escort and handed him a manilla envelope. "These are his care instructions. They're to go straight to Mr. Ramsey or Ms. Pattillo, whichever you see first." The escort nodded, though Alfredo swore he saw his face crease in annoyance for a minute before it smoothed back out into a mask of professionalism.
"Of course. Now, right this way Mr. Diaz. The boss is expecting us by ten-thirty and there's a little backed up traffic on our route." Alfredo grabbed his little pack of medical supplies and medications and followed the escort out of the facility to a sleek black SUV. It took a little bit of doing, and the escort was no help, but eventually he made it into the SUV and settled himself in.
He was seldom on this side of the city, so he tried to enjoy the sights of it, even as nerves built in his gut. While he knew he wasn't being driven towards his death, he was still understandably nervous. He was restricted in his activities for the next week, Caleb had said as much, but as soon as his spot healing was done, who knew what kinds of things they'd make him do.
"We're here, Mr. Diaz. You'll go in the front and the building secretary will let you up. I need to get the car put away and find someone to hand these documents off to." Alfredo sighed and grabbed his pack, shimmying out of the vehicle carefully. He hissed as his chest twisted a little. God this was so annoying. He felt like a kid waiting for his first day at a new school. Except with a lot more guns and explosions.
The lobby of the building was all sleek glass and silver metal and he felt out of place in his scrubs and looking beat up. Luckily, the front desk was easy to find and the secretary was warm and welcoming. She compared his face against an image one of the bosses had given her and then handed him a paper badge. It would get him in the penthouse elevator today, until a more permanent solution was settled upon.
And at last he was on his way up, the glass elevator giving him a fairly spectacular view of the city. Ten floors, twenty, up and and up and up until it dinged on the 70th floor. The penthouse. He swiped the badge and the elevator slid open, revealing a hallway. A very nice hallway. Soft cream carpets and dark wood paneling and various plants lent it a very nice look, and one would never guess that it was the entryway to the home of one of the most feared crews in the states. Scattered about were pairs of shoes and jackets, little touches that made it look lived in.
"You must be Alfredo!" He would never admit the noise that left him as he startled at the new voice and his head whipped in the direction of the voice. The woman the voice belonged to was reasonably tall, curvy, with long red locks falling around her shoulders. It took his brain a minute to put a name to a face.
Jack Pattillo, second in command and ace pilot of the FAHC crew.
"No need to be scared." At Alfredo's incredulous look she chuckled a little. "Well, not so scared anyway. Geoff had to deal with a last minute problem, so I'll be handling introductions today. Come on in for now. I just put breakfast on the table and the others should be waking up shortly." She turned around and started in, obviously expecting Alfredo to follow.
So follow he did. He paused just long enough to toe off the sandals the hospital had given him and then padded in after her. The penthouse was just as neat and modern as the hallway, but definitely looked lived in. It was open and bright, the carpet underfoot sinfully soft. Scattered around were books and games and hoodies and other odds and ends. It was a home. Did they all live here?
"It's nice, isn't it? Took a while to get everything right but we make it work." He nodded and followed her into what he guessed was a dining room. The table was dark wood and practically groaning under the weight of all the food that was on it. Eggs, bacon, toast, waffles and more. At his surprised look Jack laughed, the sound echoing in the bright room like bells.
"Geoff invited B-Team over as well, so you can meet everyone in one swoop. Even without them though the lads eat enough for double the people and Ryan's no slouch either." She settled herself comfortably at a seat to the left of the head chair and gestured to the chair next to her. "Help yourself while it's fresh and the hoard hasn't gotten to it."
He placed his bag under the chair and grabbed the plate. He was still on soft solids, would be for another week thanks to the combination of injuries and medications, but in this case he wasn't limited overmuch in his options. A piece of the lighter toasted bread with butter, a scoop of eggs and a smaller waffle drenched in syrup were placed onto his plate. He deliberated over a few other things before deciding against them. No sense in eating himself sick.
"You don't want anymore?" Alfredo shook his head. Even without his restricted choices, his appetite had always been weird when he was on anything stronger than tylenol. Instead of pushing it, as he feared she would, Jack merely smiled at him gently and dished her own plate. They ate in surprisingly comfortable silence, and while it didn't completely do away with his apprehension, it was nice.
Slowly, people began to filter in through the door. Most only spared him a glance before descending on the food and some not even that. By the time the table was full, lacking only Geoff and Trevor, Alfredo had been coaxed into a cup of tea by Jack and was watching as everyone slowly came alive. Conversation flickered to life around the table, never breaking a quiet murmur but there was a feeling of burgeoning chaos in the room, like they were just waiting for the thing that would set them off.
Finally, as most people were finishing eating, Jack sat forward in her chair. Instantly everyone's attention was on her and, by default, him as well. "So, as everyone knows, we've procured ourselves someone for the crew." That was...a nice way for putting it. "Everyone, this is Alfredo. Once he's healed up, he'll be driving and sniping for us, as well as some day to day errands." The table murmured greetings and Alfredo nodded, trying to look more confident than he felt.
"Alfredo, going around the table starting next you is Matt, Lindsay, Mica, Andy, Larry, Michael, Gavin, Jeremy and Ryan. You've met Geoff, Trevor and Caleb already. Matt, Mica, Andy and Larry are B-Team. Lindsay runs B-Team and they handle the minions, security and minor deals." He waved with his good arm and got assorted waves and grins back.
"Jeremy, Michael and Gavin do their own thing outside of heists, and they handle a lot of the mid-teir and high-end deals, especially with our subordinate crews. Ryan handles information and day-to-day enforcement." Alfredo figured he also handled gathering that information, using whatever means required but he wasn't stupid enough to do more than think that.
"Ryan's requested your help starting next week. You'll be helping me in the meantime, and we'll use that time to get you an ID for the building and get you geared up." As Jack was talking the others were leaving. Michael, Gavin and Jeremy hovered for a bit before Jack sent them a sharp look and they scuttled, all without saying anything. Ryan leveled him with a blue gaze, black hair cascading around his shoulders.
And then he smiled.
Alfredo startled again in his chair and Ryan's gaze turned amused and warm. This was the Vagabond. Why was he smiling at him?! Ryan rose from the table and started gathering up the dishes. "I'll handle this. You look exhausted. You should rest while you can. The Lads are...excited you're here and they won't be so easily cowed this afternoon." The man set about his work with a contented easiness and Jack seemed to agree with his sentiment because she grabbed his bag and began to usher him out of the dining hall.
"Caleb warned us you'll be easily tired for the first week, so this week is gonna be nice and easy. And he's right. I love those boys but they're not gonna be content until they've cornered you for a while, so the more rested you are the better." Cornered him? Oh he didn't like the sound of that really, but he doubted there was much he could do.
The hall split off in a couple directions. "Down the left and right halls are the bedrooms. You'll be on the same sides as the Lads, since it's the larger one. Down the center hall is the office, the planning room and a small armory. We own this entire building. On the floor below us is the gym and the entertainment area. Your pass will get you there as well, so feel free to come and go in your free time."
Her hand was gentle but firm on his back. They passed three doors, two across from each other and one by itself. Each had a sign painted on it, an emblem. There was the bear on one door and across from that the door was painted with a golden eagle. Down the hall a pretty decent way, almost startlingly so, was a door painted with a monster truck. The door across from the monster truck was blank but there they stopped.
"You'll need to pick an emblem eventually, but this is your room. There's some clothes in the en suite if you need them. Someone will wake you when they want you." Here she smiled, and it filled him with a lot of warmth as she handed him his pack. "I know there were some...concerns about your apartment, but I think you'll like this." She patted his shoulder and wandered off out of sight.
Alfredo didn't move at first, almost afraid to. What was he going to find behind the door? There was really only one way to find out, and he could already feel tiredness dragging at his body. He just wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep it off. He was due another dose of medication as well. Steeling himself, he opened the door and stepped in.
He stopped in surprise. The room was...nicer than he expected? He had been expecting something spartan, a place they would have him close at hand for when they needed him, but he hadn't expected them to do much beyond provide him a place.
The floor had that same sinfully soft carpet as the hallways in a soft slate gray and there were touches of seafoam and grass green and white in the bedding and the couch. It was bright and warm and he felt...not safe, because he didn't think he could ever feel safe this deep in enemy territory but, settled maybe? Less like he was under the gun and more like he was protected enough for the moment to wind down.
He looked around a little more, trying to get the lay of the land. His plants were here! Settled around the room his lovingly cultivated ivies and ferns were vibrant splashes of color, his little cactus sat on the bedside table and his succulents were in pride of place next to a sturdy looking desk where sat his laptop and the unmistakable shapes of his sketchbooks. There was a reasonably sized TV across from the couch and his game collection was neatly shelved.
It was all his stuff. Everything that had made his apartment home was here. Had they done this? Why? To make him feel welcome? Or to lure him into a false sense of security? Were they playing a long con here? Make him feel welcome, like he was part of the crew, one of them? What would happen then? Would Geoff call his debt paid and he'd find himself out on his own again, bereft of the people he had to come to-what? Protect? Call his own? Love? The trinket on his wrist tinkled as he tugged at his hair angrily. He pulled his arm down to look at his wrist and disgust, hot and suffocating, pooled in his chest. Collared. Like a fucking dog. This had to be a mockery of their tattoos, letting everyone know who owned him now, but making it obvious it was only temporary.
He groaned aloud and fished into his pack for his medicine and a bottle of water, with a handy flip cap for one-handed use, and he took his dose and growled softly to himself. He was so tired, and his chest was beginning to throb in time with his heartbeat. The bed looked amazing, huge and soft, with plenty of pillows. It was obviously going for welcoming, but all it did was cause Alfredo's head to churn with distrust. He stood there for a minute, oscillating between heading for the bed or the couch or even the floor but eventually exhaustion and pain and medication won out and he trudged towards the bed. He peeled back the covers and slid underneath, an involuntary happy sigh leaving him as he was cradled by plush blankets
He'd done this before, in the time before he clawed his way up the ranks of IGN. Been at the mercy of someone stronger than him, in a higher position of power than him. It was simple, when it boiled down to it. Keep his responses to "yes sir" and "no sir", eyes down, prepared to roll over and show his belly if it made his life easier, kept him out of danger. Back then it had been a matter of getting fed, of keeping himself out of the basement or the ring when the other kids couldn't or wouldn't cooperate. Now it was a matter of keeping himself alive, but the principal was the same. He could do this, just had to find that frame of mind again.
It took some doing to get comfortable, to get the disgusting amount of pillows present to cradle his injuries comfortably but soon, he was drifting off to sleep, his mind still a jumble and his gut still churning, but medicine and exhaustion won out in the end.
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dropswisdom · 4 years
Text
Probox2 EX+ and Remote+
Introduction
Hello everyone!
Here is the first in a new series of reviews about Kodi TV Boxes.
What are Kodi/TV Boxes?
TV Boxes are small computers running Google Android OS, Linux or even Microsoft Windows (on x86 CPU variants), mostly based on ARM processors – from different and varied manufacturers, such as AMLogic, RockChip, Intel, and others. Most of these are identical or quite similar to those found in modern Smartphones and tablets.
That’s no coincidence. Modern smartphones are powerful computers that can run many tasks that required room size industrial computers only a few decades ago. And the task which TV Boxes take on is not a small one.
Modern TV Boxes aim to replace the need for cable or satellite TV subscription, with content from the World Wide Web. This is what streaming is all about.
However, these days, it’s not just about displaying the content from sources such as YouTube, Netflix, Hulu and others, but doing so smoothly and being able to handle multiple audio and video formats and codecs.
These days, the evolution of mobile hardware is much faster than that of the personal computer. Because of that, the newer chipsets can handle these heavy duty codecs and decode them in hardware.
From Black & White, low-res digital reproductions of old films and TV programs, to this year’s 4K highly compressed, 3D feature films – these boxes can do it all – whether it’s video or audio. All you need is a fast (preferably fiber) internet connection and a good TV with an available HDMI input. After an hour or less of fiddling, you’ll enjoy the world of (mostly) free unlimited content off the World Wide Web.
And this time, I am proud to present: The Probox2 EX+ Extreme Media Player!
This review unit was sent to me courtesy of the good people at Probox2, so thank you all, and especially Will, for the swift and great communication.
What’s in the Box?
youtube
PROBOX2 EX+ is a new iteration on the previous generation from PROBOX2, which was simply named EX. The main difference between the two is the hardware. The new EX+ is based on the newer AMLogic S812 chipset while its predecessor was based on the older AMLogic S802-H.
Both boxes are running Google Android, but the new EX+ comes with the new Android 5.1.1 Lollipop out of the box as well as a fast 1000M (Gigabit) LAN wired connection, while the EX comes with the older Android 4.4 Kitkat version and a slower 10M/100M LAN wired connection.
So what do we get? the player – PROBOX2 EX+, Power Adapter, Infrared Remote, Dual-Band Antenna, AV Cable, HDMI v1.4b Cable, USB Cable, User Manual. Oh, and the PROBOX2 Remote+, which is a Air mouse bonus that will be discussed more at the end of the post.
Why is better hardware important? Simply put: more powerful hardware equals better performance – and especially when it comes to the new HEVC/H.265 video codec. However, a newer OS version doesn’t only come with a slicker look, but also with its own growing pains.
Looks
The EX+ is a slick looking small black box with a matte finish on top and bottom, and reflective coating on all four sides. It’s light at around 200 grams, and can be easily mounted on the back of a TV or other HDMI capable digital screen, using two sided tape. (Better to check first and make sure the remote controls the box when mounted that way)
[easy-image-collage id=886]
This design is similar to most TV Boxes, but I would like to mention, that the top indented On/Off button is great idea as it makes it easier to find over those which include it on the side of the box which is more inconspicuous, especially at night. This On/off button also gets a little illumination from the Active incorporated led light.
Specifications
CPU Amlogic S812 Quad Core Cortex A9 CPU, up to 2Ghz GPU Octo Core Mali-450 GPU, up to 600Mhz Memory / Storage 2GB DDR3 / 16GB* eMMC LAN RJ-45 Ethernet jack (10/100/1000Mbps) Wireless Built-in 802.11 b/g/n/ac Dual Band (2.4Ghz / 5.8Ghz) WIFI Bluetooth Built-in Bluetooth v4.0 OS Android 5.1 Lollipop Video Output HDMI 1.4b, up to 4K** @ 30fps, Support HDMI-CEC Audio Output Via HDMI 1.4b, optical SPDIF Power DC 5V 2A adapter (CE, FCC, CCC Certified) Peripheral Interface USB 2.0 Port x 2, OTG Port, TF Card Reader, AV Port, IR Sensor (Remote included) Packing Included PROBOX2 EX+, PROBOX2 Remote+, Power Adapter, Backup IR Remote, Dual-Band Antenna, AV Cable, HDMI v1.4b Cable, USB Cable, User Manual
Benchmarks and Testing
All benchmarks have been repeated 3 times and results have been averaged to give a more accurate reading:
Antutu Benchmark
Average Antutu Benchmark
The Antutu benchmark tests single core performance over multi-core as it is a better indication of the performance of one device over others in most situations. Here it shows a distinct advantage to the AMLogic S812 chipset over the other two.
GPU Mark Benchmark
GPU Mark tests 3d gaming performance and also provides a normalized score according to the used screen resolution (for a more accurate result). The test is quite short and should be taken as a supporting result to that of the more serious 3D Mark benchmark.
A1 SD Benchmark
  A1 SD Benchmark tests RAM and flash memory speeds. As can be seen in the provided graphs, RAM is much faster (by a factor of about 40) than flash memory – that is why it’s in smaller amount and is also volatile (does not keep its contents after a reboot). The RAM performance is similar between the Minix and the Probox2, as both are using a similar chipset. But in both Internal and External SD card tests, the Probox2 seems to take a backseat to the Minix, probably due to a better implementation of a memory reader/controller.
* PC Mark Benchmark
PC Mark Scores check video, web browsing, writing and photo editing performance
* The PC Mark benchmark tests are lacking, because out of the three boxes tested, only the Minix X8-H was able to complete the video test portion of the test fully. It seems that both the EX+ and the Gecko require the use of specialized codecs in order to play some encoded video files. However, video testing with the included Kodi media center seems to produce great results, and the other parts of the benchmark show an obvious lead.
3D Mark Benchmark
3D Mark is a labor intensive 3D animation and gaming Benchmark
Video Playback testing (Using KODI)
Resolution Video Format Local Playback Network (Wi-Fi/LAN) Playback 720p (1280*720) AVC ([email protected]) Playing correctly Playing correctly 1080P (1920*1080) AVC (High@L4) Playing correctly Playing correctly  2160P (3840*2160) HEVC (H.265) – 10Bit Playing correctly Buffering  and stutter 4K (4096*2304) AVC ([email protected]) Playing correctly Buffering  and stutter 4K TS HEVC files HEVC (H.265) Does not play / play with artifacts and stutter Does not play / play with artifacts and stutter
Two things: playback testing was done in both 2.4GHz and 5Ghz wireless connections (802AC), and my LAN connection is using power-line AV500 adapters to reach the router. That may skew the results somewhat, but not by much.
As can be witnessed, the playback suffers when not using local storage (Micro-SD card, or attached USB drive). This is not good news as it may affect streaming generally. Always make sure you are connecting your box to the router in the shortest and optimal route possible.
The benchmarks and video tests stand witness to show that the EX+ is a powerful machine. It can play (almost) any current video file you’ll throw at it, and does it well.
It will also handle itself quite well with most android games and/or applications.
I do have reservations regarding the included (basic) remote and its loud clicking sounds. But Probox2 made up for it by including the (much better) Remote+ air mouse.
The box I received came fully updated with the latest firmware, but a System OTA (Over the air) application is included to allow for future updates. I did experience some video sync issues with my TV at first as the box started with a higher refresh rate than my TV supports. However, disconnecting and reconnecting the HDMI cable, and changing the settings in the display options to match my display set it right.
For the time being, no android app (that I could find) is available to allow remote control of the EX+ from your phone or tablet. That is regrettable, even though most actions are quite easy with the Air mouse. Probox2 did promise that they are working on a remote app that will accommodate the newer EX+. Android TV remote (or as previously known, Google TV remote) which works well with Minix boxes is currently not supported on the EX+.
The EX+ comes pre-rooted from the manufacturer. That is an important point to make, as most TV Boxes either do not formally support rooting, or even block the option all together. Probox2 made a bold move, and from my point of view, a great one. Rooting allows more freedom, and as a result a better advanced user experience. It also means that (unlike) other boxes, there won’t be a need to re-root the box after each and every firmware update, and that the warranty will not be affected by rooting.
Gaming performance
 Frames Per Second Minix Neo X8-H (Amlogic S802) Probox2 EX+ (Amlogic S812) OpenHour Gecko (HiSilicon 3798M) Asphalt 8 Airborne 23 33 N/A Angry Birds 2 30 31 N/A Walking War Robots 25 29 N/A
 Resource Usage Minix Neo X8-H (Amlogic S802) Probox2 EX+ (Amlogic S812) OpenHour Gecko (HiSilicon 3798M) Asphalt 8 Airborne 8%, 169MB 12%, 326MB N/A Angry Birds 2 9%, 201MB 13%, 315MB N/A Walking War Robots 10%, 99MB 13%, 275MB N/A
The Gecko could not run Gamebench app, and was also having trouble running some of the games.
I have tested the EX+ with three games, using GameBench app which allowed me to measure frame rate, as well as resources used in each of these games:
Asphalt 8 Airborne – a 3d graphic intensive racing game
  Angry Birds 2 – a popular 2d action game
  Walking War Robots – an online robot warfare game that requires a game-pad
[easy-image-collage id=937]
Ex+ held its own quite nicely. It performed well, and as you can see did not consume too many resources…
However, I can say that the box sadly runs quite hot when put under the strain of heavy gaming tasks. Even though CPU temperature monitoring apps show a steady and cool 30 Celsius, the unit feels much warmer to the touch, and the overheating causes freezes that forced me to pull out the power plug in order to restart the EX+.
I do believe that adding a active (a fan, or a laptop cooler) cooling solution to the passive cooling of the EX+ would make a difference. But without it, I would not recommend risking any heavy duty gaming on the EX+ for more than 10-15 minutes at a time.
Price comparison
 * Price for Minix was taken from Geekbuying website, Price for Probox2 was taken from W2Comp website, and Open Hour Gecko price was taken from product website.  Prices are as found, without any current discounts.
Conclusions
The Probox2 EX+ TV Box is a powerful machine. It holds its own, even though I could not test it against another S812 based box, I am sure its performance would stand.
Video and gaming performance are quite good, and unlike the previous chipset (S802), it can handle HEVC (H.265) encoded video up to and including 4K/2160p content.
There are issues with TS HEVC encoded files, but Probox2 promised me they will address them in a future update.
Network performance with heavy bandwidth video files was not encouraging. Since I tested it both with high speed wireless and wired connections, I think there are improvements to be made with a software and/or hardware update.
I also encountered a few freezes that forced me to power off the EX+ and restart it. I suspect it may have to do with overheating, as the device was quite hot to the touch.
Pros
Cons
Can play almost anything you’ll throw at it Noisy clicking standard remote Slick look thanks to Android 5.1.1 Lacking basic launcher Kodi 15.2 (RC1) Pre-installed Issues playing 4K TS files Future-proof thanks to hardware HEVC 4K decoding Lags in 4K AVC content playback over network 1GBit LAN Freezes occur (infrequently) Good Air Mouse included Starts set to high refresh rate out of the box (may cause flickering on some TVs)
In conclusion, I would recommend buying this box. It has a few issues, but it’s a solid performer and I believe those problems are more teething pains than serious malfunctions.
I give it…  3/5 Stars – Good, but can get better with time and updates.
The Probox2 Remote+ Air mouse
When you buy the Ex+, you get as a part of the package, a great Air Mouse called “Remote+”.
Why is it so great? In a nutshell, it has four work modes: Remote control mode, Air mouse mode, Vertical gaming mode, and Horizontal gaming mode. There is a dedicated button for switching between the different modes.
On top of that, it incorporates a microphone which allows you to use google voice search functions without having to connect a microphone or Bluetooth set to your TV box.
It is compatible with Android, Windows, Mac OS X, and Linux.
It takes 2 standard (or rechargeable) AAA batteries.
However, the gaming and power buttons are only compatible with Probox2 series devices.
I have tried and used it with two other android TV boxes, and all it took was plugging the USB receiver in, and the air mouse and remote was working.
Accuracy is great, but it does lag a little bit at times with accepting a click, or moving around. It does not happen often, but it does.
When I compare it to another air mouse I have (the Minix Neo M1), it wins on all fronts.
I used the game-pad function to play Asphalt 8 Airborne on the EX+, and the experience is much better than fiddling with a standard remote. In fact, I would say that the inclusion of the Remote+ in the package upgrades the whole experience.
The built-in microphone works well with Google search, but the recording quality is not the best. Microphone gain should be used, and the quality is comparable to FM radio.
Since the EX+ does not offer a virtual keyboard/mouse app for your phone or tablet, the Remote+ provides an interim solution to typing and moving around the screen.
Did I like it? Yes.
Would I recommend it? Yes, but more so for Probox2 device owners. It works great as a air mouse on other devices, but the great game-pad functionality only comes into play with Probox2.
I give it…  4/5 Stars – Good, but increased functionality is reserved for the Probox2 line.
So you like the EX+ and Remote+ and want to buy them? For online purchase, there is only one place to go for this slick combo: W2Comp (click on the name to get to the product page)
And as a bonus, I got you a 5% discount code, and it is: DropsOfWisdom
“Where to buy” – http://probox2.com/become-a-distributor/
Israeli distributor: “Benda Magnetic Ltd”: (no discount code)
http://www.benda.co.il/catalog/companies.aspx?cid=46
I hope you like the review, and you can expect more to come soon!
Join shareasale.com, Earn Cash!
Review | Probox2 EX+ TV Box and Probox2 Remote+ Introduction Hello everyone! Here is the first in a new series of reviews about Kodi TV Boxes.
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avecorviidae · 5 years
Text
Fic: falling out of feeling
Fandom: Gorillaz Rating: T Relationship(s): Murdoc Niccals/Stuart “2D” Pot Word Count: 2246
Ao3 Link
It’s an unbearable number of minutes before 2D finally stops pretending to drink the shite canteen coffee and looks him in the eyes.
“How’s the place treating you, then?”
A neutral question, as far as things go. Or, it would be, if Murdoc were anywhere other than here.
“How do you think, faceache?” he spits, but it comes out weaker than he would’ve liked, bitterness giving way to exhaustion. 2D flinches back nonetheless, wincing as his eyes trace the steady line of reddish bruises up Murdoc’s jaw and into his hairline. Murdoc sneers, juts his jaw out, puts on a big old show of refusing to be ashamed. They’re being watched, after all, by the officers and the huge fuckoff sods who roughed him up, and their nice wives and mumsies come to see them, all of them gawking at the black-eyed bright blue poofter in the fucking patterned floral shirt who’s come to see Murdoc Niccals. Beyond that, though, beyond his cred, his inside rep, he’s putting it on for 2D, like he always does, the fuckoff-I-don’t-need-you strop he always throws before he crawls back every single time.
Trust 2D to toss it right back at him.
“Listen, Muds,” he starts abruptly, and Murdoc’s eyes snap up to him, already put on-edge by the tone. He’d thought 2D’s discomfort was about the locale, the sterile, grey visitation centre of Wormwood Scrubs pressing down around him, but Murdoc knows that tone, and a we need to talk by any other name still tastes as fucking sour.
“Muds,” he starts again, learning forward over the low plastic table, “my head’s not on straight right now, yeah?”
Murdoc bites back a when is it ever?, in favour of scowling in petulant silence.
2D’s voice takes on a desperate edge. “My head’s not on straight, and, look, Noodle’s got this mate, right? A bloke named Ace, and he’s a bit of a bassist I guess, has this nice place in L.A., and he’s invited me and Noods and Russ to maybe hang out and jam with him for a bit. And, Muds, I think I might take him up on it.”
Well.
At least he has the decency to look guilty about it.
“So that’s how it fucking is, then.”
“No, Murdoc,” 2D says, pleading, but Murdoc’s already pushing his chair back, ready to get the fuck out of here. His cell, the rec yard, even the communal fucking showers would be a welcome reprieve from this.
2D stands as well, leans over and grabs Murdoc’s wrist before he can react. “Look, I know you’re angry and you probably won’t cool down for a while, but I’m leaving you my phone number, yeah? And just, call me Muds, okay? Whenever. And if I don’t answer, I’ll call you back, quick as anything, okay?”
Murdoc blinks once, then tugs his hand away sharply, out of 2D’s grip. “And why the fuck would I ever want to call you?”
2D sighs, all the fight going out of him. The way he’s built, he looks like a marionette cut from its strings, all jutting bones and awkward angles. “At least take this,” he says, voice resigned. He rummages in his jean pockets, and after a moment, produces a crumpled tenner, dropping it on the table between them. He must’ve brought it for the canteen, Murdoc supposes.
He sneers. “What, and get hep A from the fucking beans on toast? I’ll pass, thanks.” Still, he pockets the cash, knows it could do him some good.
“Call me,” 2D repeats dully.
Murdoc leaves.
-
HMP WORMWOOD SCRUBS
INMATE PHONE CALL TRANSCRIPT OUTGOING: INMATE ID: #24602     INMATE NAME: MURDOC NICCALS
RECEIVING: STUART POT (LOS ANGELES, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA)
-
STUART POT: You called! Are you… Uh, are you alright, Muds? Not dying or anything, yeah?
MURDOC NICCALS: Me? I’m great, just fucking dandy, Dents, I’m just in fucking prison.
SP: Oi, don’t get snippy mate, you called me!
MN: Well. Had to make sure you were still kicking, didn’t I? Make sure this Ace bugger didn’t turn out to be some evil fucking serial killer out to murder my whole band, eh?
SP: [LAUGHS] He’s not evil, Muds. Just a bit, er. Thick.
MN: I’m sorry, are you fucking joking? You’re calling someone else thick? This bloke must be a fucking vegetable!
SP: Oh, sod off. He’s just, you know, a bit odd, innit? We were doing some shoots for a music video on Venice Beach, and we wanted a shot of him playing basketball with the locals, because he’s a bit of a local, right? Being American, and that. But one of these kids throws him the ball, and he catches it, and takes out a flipping flick knife and pops the bloody thing!
MN: [LAUGHS]
SP: It ain’t funny, Muds, they were right angry!
MN: Well that’s what you get, isn’t it? Filming a music video on Venice flaming Beach, for chrissakes. What’s it even about?
SP: Not about much, I guess. It’s a, a happy song I guess, so I just roller skated around for a bit, and we got some shots of all the folk milling about, and it was pretty good up until Ace pulled that shit. And Russel tripped me up, but I don’t know that he meant to.
MN: Rollerskating? 2D, what the fuck are you doing to my band?
SP: Just messing about, Muds. I think it’s turning out alright, so far, we’re cleaning up the audio for the rest of the album, and Jaime’s said he might wanna do these uh, things, these, visualizers for some of the songs, yeah? And it’s–
MN: Are you enjoying this? Getting to fucking gloat about replacing me in my own band, writing your hippie dippie alt-pop shit with some fucking Californian bassist, putting out a whole fucking album without me in my fucking band–
SP: But it’s my album! It’s your band, Muds, of course it’s your band, but I’ve got to do this, right, and you can’t take it like that, like we don’t want you back, ‘cos it’s not the same doing this without you. Ace is thick, Muds, seriously, musically thick, he just plays whatever me and Noodle tell him to, never adds anything himself. Which is alright for this I guess, ‘cos it’s my songs and I know what they’re supposed to sound like, but I keep hearing you in my head going, “And that’s where the synth oughta stop, you always want your stupid little midi solos, Dents–”
MN: [LAUGHS]
SP: Sod off, stop laughing! You sound just like that, you do, you always fucking barge in and say every song ought to go exactly your way, and we’d stay up half the night tweaking one chord progression over and over ‘cos we knew it didn’t sound right and I can’t do that without you, Muds, so quit saying I want rid of you, alright? I can’t keep doing this without you.
MN: Then don’t. Just fucking wait until I find a way out of here–
SP: I can’t, Murdoc. Not with these, yeah? I’m sorry.
[CALL END]
-
SP: Do you ever miss Kong?
MN: No.
SP: Go on. Not even a little bit?
MN: No! Why would I miss that infested, stinking pit of garbage?
SP: Sorry, are we talking about Kong or Plastic Beach?
MN: Bugger off. At least Plastic Beach wasn’t in fucking Essex.
SP: [Singing] The only way is–
MN: Stop. Stop! I could’ve gone the rest of my sad, miserable life without being reminded of fucking TOWIE. You really are a poof.
SP: Guilty. I miss Kong, though. Really, I do. I mean, not the smell, or that portal-thing you kept downstairs, or the bathrooms, or really anything about it, but… It was alright, the stuff we did in there, weren’t it?
MN: Alright? D, it wasn’t just alright, it was fucking revolutionary! Changed the international music scene forever–
SP: I miss when we’d order pizza in, and the Domino's delivery bloke always got lost on the way up, and ended up calling us all curled up in a ball crying ‘cause he saw a ghost or summink, and we had to go out and collect him.
MN: Ah, yeah. Think they blacklisted us eventually.
SP: And Noodle tearing through the place. Skateboarding up and down the hallways at midnight–
MN: –Screaming like a banshee in Japanese because we hadn’t been watching how much sugar she’d had, yeah. God, she were a great little sprogget, weren’t she?
SP: You know she’s seeing someone?
MN: What?
SP: Yeah! Some bird named Buttercup, lives round here apparently.
MN: She’s too young to be dating! You’ve told her she’s not allowed to be dating, Dents, fucking tell her!
SP: She’s twenty-summink, Muds, I don’t think we’re allowed to tell her what to do anymore. If we ever were, really.
MN: Still! What if she gets hurt! What if this Buttercup bird breaks her heart! I don’t trust anyone named fucking Buttercup, D.
SP: Me neither, really. I wanted to, you know, stand on the porch with a shotgun and be all, you have my daughter back by midnight young lady or there’ll be hell to pay, like in the movies, right? ‘Cept the place we’re in don’t have a porch, and Noods never brings her round anyways. The only reason I even know she exists is ‘cos Ace kept running his mouth when he weren’t supposed to. She were right angry at him for that.
MN: [LAUGHS] Good for her.
SP: I do… I miss the people we were when we were doing music at Kong.
MN: We were terrible people, D.
SP: Still are. But at least it was fun. Least it was just us up on a hill and half the fucking world weren’t watching us and writing articles every time we got high on something.
MN: D…
SP: I think I hate L.A., Muds. Really, I do. I know I was the one who wanted to come here, but I think, once this album’s done, I need a break. Middle of nowhere, you know? Not like Plastic Beach, but, us, like…
MN: Jamaica.
SP: Yeah. Yeah.
[CALL END]
-
HMP WORMWOOD SCRUBS
FORM BP-S383.058: INMATE PERSONAL PROPERTY RECORD NAME: MURDOC NICCALS ID: 24602 TYPE OF PROPERTY: COMPACT DISC QUANTITY: 1 DESCRIPTION:
JEWEL CASE CONTAINING: -ONE COMPACT DISC (C-D) OF ALBUM TITLED “THE NOW NOW” BY “GORILLAZ”
-
He looks tired. Probably not quite as haggard as Murdoc, one eye still bandaged over, half his face an inflamed, angry red, but still, he looks a bit like he walked off the plane high and half asleep and stumbled straight into the visitor centre. Hell, he might’ve.
He’s not making any pretenses about drinking the coffee, this time, but he’s got his skinny fingers wrapped around it, leeching warmth from the Styrofoam cup.
Murdoc blinks, winces, glances away. Doesn’t know how to start.
“I mean, do you get it now?” 2D asks, abrupt as ever. “Why I had to do it without you. I couldn’t just… I couldn’t let you play those songs, not like, not when they were for…” He trails off, scowls down into his cup.
“I know,” Murdoc murmurs. “S’why…”
He shakes his head, forces himself to spit it out. 2D gave him this, the least he can fucking do is stop being a coward and finally return the favour.
“S’why I couldn’t let you sing Plastic Beach alone.” 2D looks up at him sharply, eyes wide and disarming. “What?”
“I brought in so many collaborators so you’d make a story with them. Not think about me, or the lyrics I wrote, or why. Couldn’t listen to you singing my words back at me all alone.”
All at once, 2D’s face goes slack and soft with understanding. Murdoc finds himself unable to look away, skin crawling with shame and fear and a thousand other things, but still staring right back at 2D. He’d always found his eyes a bit unnerving, glassy and blank, like squid ink. Opaque and reflective, and Murdoc’s always seen more of himself that he wants to, when 2D looks at him like that, like there’s not another thing in the world that could possibly keep his focus.
2D hums, low and crooning, “I’ll wait to be forgiven, maybe I never will–”
“Don’t,” Murdoc says softly, “Stu, stop.”
Because of course he’d know, pick out the one that Murdoc can barely stand to think about. He was a showman, was 2D, and way back when they’d actually gotten Little Dragon to perform live with them, he’d sung to her full-throated, down on his knees pleading and bright and shining with sweat, had looked at her like nothing else existed–
Like he was looking at Murdoc now.
“We’re not good people,” Murdoc says, like he’s realizing it for the first time. He might be, in a way, because he can’t quite wrap his head around the kind of poetry they’ve been writing each other, like they’re the kind of people who pine, who love like that, who get to have that.
“That’s alright,” 2D says serenely. “I still try, sometimes. And I guess it’s never too late for you to start.”
“Cheeky shit,” Murdoc says, but he’s smiling, almost. “You’ll– Will you be there? When I get out of here?”
“‘Course, Muds.”
“Then I’ll start trying.”
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