#So if that's the case the buses were probably waiting for the trucks to be loaded up so they could leave at the same time

[theirloveisgross]

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#Stumbled upon some twitter drama about Louis going into the bus and not leaving #Apparently the buses were there at the venue well into the night #People saying that it's fishy because he didn't go say bye to the fans waiting or something #Videos of some of louis' security talking to the fans saying that he had left that they don't have to wait blah blah #He was really nice to them #So the facts are that he went into the bus around 1am without greeting some people #Then around 2am that guard came to talk to them saying they were gonna load up and leave #People on twitter thinking it's because H is there 😭 #I have a better theory #They have to take a boat from Sweden to Finland #Right? #So if that's the case the buses were probably waiting for the trucks to be loaded up so they could leave at the same time #And takes around 3-4 hours #Most times the buses leave well ahead onto their next destination and the trucks follow after #But no. Of course it's because H is there. Which it's in the realms of possibilities but also... No. #Learn to think outside of that sometimes idk #See all possible scenarios maybe?

[sophaeros]

arctic monkeys for clash magazine, april 2010

ON THE ROAD WITH… ARCTIC MONKEYS

Words by Simon Harper Photos by Jason Joyce

As Britain’s favourite band headed out on the European leg of their ‘Humbug’ tour, Clash discovered that Arctic Monkeys were less sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, and more cakes, ping-pong and Coco Pops…

The city of Offenbach, about twenty minutes south of Frankfurt, was once noted for its abundant leather industry, and is currently the base of the German weather service, but such claims don’t negate the fact that it’s basically a sterile, grey, typically German suburban borough. The arrival of a fleet of trucks and buses, carrying Arctic Monkeys, their crew and stage gear, heralded the notion that for one night only, Offenbach may just come alive with suitably bustling energy.

Offenbach’s Stadthalle is the smallest venue on the Monkeys’ three-week tour of Western Europe. The band have been through Portugal, Spain and France, and know how to kill time during the day while everyone works around them, building the stage for that night’s show. And so, when Clash finds them, upstairs in the Stadthalle’s back rooms, they’re in the middle of a fierce ping-pong match – the game scores being tallied up across the tour. The table, it transpires, is the band’s own, and follows them wherever they go. A set of football goals lie waiting for action, but the small white balls prove more enticing.

It’s a cold, February Tuesday, and these back rooms are where the band will spend the whole day.

Previous encounters with Arctic Monkeys have been somewhat tough – notoriously reticent and famously press-shy, there’s a tangible wall that surrounds them, which is seemingly hard to penetrate. Suspicious stares cut through you, while succinct answers frustrate you. Today, however, they couldn’t be more accommodating.

Clash sits with the quartet in the band-only room, where their personal equipment is kept in a vertical flight case of drawers, and a small fridge is at hand for cold beers. Nick O’Malley, Jamie Cook and Matt Helders sprawl on the leather couches, while Alex Turner perches on the table, often pacing the room, then escaping in search of a lighter. We’re here to talk about life on the road. What starts as an interview eventually descends into louche conversation; daft chat punctuated by much laughter. Perhaps they’re glad to see a friendly face; perhaps the monotony of touring makes them crave any respite; perhaps there’s nothing better to do in Offenbach.

Is being on tour like real life, or does it feel like you’re detached from what real life is?

Matt: It’s probably real life. It doesn’t seem like it’s too separate or miles away.

When you go home is that normality or is it just a continuation of what you do on the road?

Matt: I don’t find it hard to settle back and switch between the two.

Nick: You feel like you’re unemployed when you go home properly.

Like you’ve got nothing to do?

Nick: Yeah, or like if you’ve got a couple of weeks off.

Matt: Like school holidays.

Alex: Does that make this school then?

Matt: Yeah, but it’s like basketball camp or something you enjoy.

How do your friendships cope with life on the road? 

Matt: It’s fine.

Nick: Yeah. We know how to not annoy each other. We’ve never really had friction, because we’ve all got a similar outlook on how not to annoy people, I suppose, so there’s never really been any problems.

Alex: (Mock nastily) That’s what you think, mate.

Nick: (Laughs) I suppose if you see the same people every day, after a while you’re bound to get a bit annoyed, but as long as you keep in your mind that it’s just because of the situation and not because you don’t like the person, then you can kind of avoid outbursts that you might not mean. It’s never really been a problem so far.

Do you notice a huge cultural difference between touring Europe and America? 

Alex: Even between places in Europe. I mean, often, to be honest, certainly at this stage that we’re at, days like today aren’t uncommon, where you’re out of town and you don’t even really see where you are, as I’m sure you’re aware. But you can really tell the difference just in the show, from the crowd. We did Madrid and Barcelona over t’weekend, and last week Portugal, and they were really excitable and there was like a frenzy going on when we were playing. Whereas I think crowds elsewhere can be a bit more reserved, can’t they, depending on where it is. I reckon one of the best crowds on this tour was a gig we did last week in Porto. We’ve never played there before. There was this real appreciation or something just from the start. You can just sort of feel it, can’t you; ‘We’re all here to have a laugh’.

Alex lives in the States now. Have any of you considered moving to somewhere you’ve visited on tour?

Matt: Yeah. It’s good that you do get to see places that you might consider moving, like Berlin. I could imagine living there.

Does living apart make you appreciate each other more when you’re back together?

Jamie: [Long pause] Mmmm…yeah.

Gone are the days when you’re living round the corner from each other.

Alex: Yeah, I suppose that’s true. You’ve got to sort of organise to be in one place. I suppose that is a bit of an inconvenient drag.

Are there any essential items that you have to pack before you come out on tour?

Jamie: One of them rolly things that gets fluff of your coat. (All laugh)

Alex: I feel like you’re a lot better equipped than the rest of us with things like that.

Yeah, you’re looking very bobble-less.

Jamie: Ah, cheers. Yeah, I did it this morning actually. A quick roll.

Matt: A skipping rope – except I forgot it this time. I’ve lost mine.

Nick: DVDs, stuff like that.

A ping-pong table?

Jamie: A ping-pong table is essential actually. I don’t think we’d go on tour without that.

Alex: Some kind of series…

Matt: A box-set.

Alex: Kinda really discovered that this last year. It was summat I’d never really got into before.

Nick: Any HBO series.

Alex: (Laughs) Yeah. I’ve really learned to appreciate that sort of continuum, because you can follow a thread.

Matt: You know what you need to do the next day.

What have you been watching?

Alex: We’ve got into Deadwood a bit on the last tour. That’s what’s been missing, I think, for me on this tour, some sort of thing like that.

Have you done The Wire?

Alex: Yeah.  I went Wire mad on that tour. I just got so greedy. I get so greedy with them things.

Matt: I couldn’t catch up.

Jamie: Yeah, he ditched everyone. I got ditched on t’second series!

Matt: Six in t’morning, I could hear him.

Jamie: You’d get up and that [theme] song would be on. It’d just be crisps all over, a bottle of…

Nick: ‘Wire Beast’s been up all night again!’

Alex: ‘Where’d you get that dressing gown from?’

Jamie: Just laying there with crumbs all over him.

Have you ever had any scares at customs? 

Nick: I got searched yesterday actually.

Matt: It was your squeaky wheels, just as I’d said. I said, ‘Them wheels are gonna attract attention.’

Nick: In Germany. A very thorough search, but luckily no glove action.

Jamie: They probably wanted to mend your wheels for you.

Matt: ‘I’ve got summat for that, some GT85.’

Nick: They were really suspicious of me. They really took everything apart and didn’t put it back as neat as I’d put it in.

Alex: At this end, yesterday?

Nick: Yeah, when we arrived in ‘Munchen’.

Alex: They’re quite, like, strict, aren’t they, Bavarian authorities.

Nick: Yeah. They had a look at me belt, everything. All me case and bag. Took everything apart. Then he were like, ‘Where have you come from?’ I went, ‘Barcelona’. He were like, ‘Have you had any contact with drugs in Barcelona?’ I went, ‘No.’ He went, ‘What do you do?’ I said, ‘I’m in a band.’ And he went, ‘Ah’, and then, like, swabbed everything.

Alex: When I got in t’car yesterday, the fella were like, [German accent] ‘If you like to do drugs, do not try and do it in Bavaria.’

American customs scare me most. 

Matt: Yeah, it’s a load of questions.

Alex: ‘What are you doing here?’

Jamie: New Zealand were quite funny. We all got pulled…

Matt: We had to sit in them chairs for a bit…

Jamie: And this guy was asking us directly the last time we ever did drugs. Then someone came over who worked for us…and he soon disappeared rather fast. We were fine. (All laugh)

Alex: I’ve come to quite enjoy the American customs people. (All laugh)

Matt: They’ve always got weird names.

Alex: They’re like, [American accent] ‘So you’re in a band, huh?’ You go, ‘Yeah, yeah.’ ‘What do you do in the band?’ ‘Oh, I’m the singer.’ ‘Yeah? You don’t look like a singer to me.’

Nick: ‘Do you sound like Coldplay?’

Alex: Yeah, ‘What kind of music do you guys play?’

Jamie: ‘Do you sound like Staind?’ I went like, ‘Staind? I know them… Fuckin’ hell!’ It took me ages. ‘Yeah, yeah, we sound a bit like Staind.’ When he said it I were like, ‘Yeah, a bit.’

You’ve said before that you wanted to try and get an album out this year. Do you get any time on the road to do any work on that?

Alex: Not really. That’s a bit of a pain in the arse, not being able to rehearse and work stuff out. I don’t think I write very good songs on t’road. They’re all a bit wonky. You get back and you’re like, ‘Hmmm’.

Does it detach you from what we were talking about earlier, ‘real life’? Does it detach you from the things that you want to be writing about?

Alex: I dunno. You can still use your imagination, but I just think, yeah, in your surroundings there’s always about to be something that’s going to happen. You can’t think. I always write wherever I am, but I dunno if the things that come out when you’re touring around always have the shelf life that the other things do.

Have you got any songs earmarked for the next album?

Alex: Yeah. I mean, there’s some ideas, but we haven’t really had the chance to get out the fine toothed comb.

‘Humbug’ was a departure in sound from your previous albums – do you think you’ll continue in that direction, maybe bring Josh Homme in again?

Alex: Not sure, really. We would like to do something with Josh again – it was terrific for us to go on that adventure – but whether or not it’s this next thing, I’m not sure. And also, like, he’s busy! (Laughs) He’s got a schedule himself, doesn’t he?

You went to record over in his place, so do you think next time you’ll have him over to...

Alex: High Green? (Laughs) Homme in High Green? I quite fancy that.

Nick: He’d look like a superhero in High Green, all the bad genetics there are in High Green. He’d look amazing.

Matt: He’d be the biggest man there.

You’ve released a couple of singles exclusively through Oxfam. What made you decide to do that? 

Jamie: Laurence and Jonny at Domino came to us with that idea – a great idea for the charity reason, and then cos Woolworths and stuff had shut down, but there were always an Oxfam.

Alex: Like, in towns where there perhaps aren’t, like, an Our Price or something.

Do you have to think of more creative ways to get your records out there?

Jamie: Yeah, rather than just sat at home.

Matt: They should think about making the journey exciting – paint paths a nice colour to the record shops.

Alex: The yellow brick road.

Matt: Something that makes people want to walk to a record shop. Even if it’s just free parking. (All laugh)

Jamie: It’s just too easy to buy music now.

How do you feel as artists about the devaluing of music? Does it annoy you that you’re working hard to make something, but people can just pick it up from their friends?

Jamie: I suppose we were never in the industry when it were big money, when people used to sell twenty million albums. Has that ever happened since we’ve been around?

Probably someone like Dido has.

Jamie: Yeah, that were probably the last.

Matt: It’s like, we wouldn’t expect anything like that to happen to us, so…

Alex: I do think there is people that always will want to go and get records.

Matt: Yeah, it won’t change everybody.

Alex: I was reading a couple of months ago about there’s an idea where you won’t even have – you know like you pull songs off iTunes or whatever – but they were saying you subscribe to a database and pay to get ’em…

Jamie: Spotify, that’s what that was.

Alex: Yeah. But you can’t get them on…

It streams the music – you can’t download them.

Alex: But you can’t do that on your phone, can you?

Matt: Yeah, you can do Spotify on your phone if you pay about £10 a month. Nokia did that thing where you can just pay a monthly thing and you can have as many as you want…

Alex: The fella had a quote, he’s like, ‘There’s nothing sexy about an MP3 on your desktop’. (Laughs) He’s like, ‘There’s nothing sexy about having a subscription to a database’. (All laugh) But then you could just sort of buy a record and stand it up against your wall. Not that that’s particularly sexy, but, you know what I mean… I like things that you can stand up.

Jamie: Like you said the other day, everyone’s just gonna have an empty house.

Matt: Yeah, there’s gonna be nothing on t’shelves. Not even books now.

Jamie: No one’s got any photos anymore, no ones’s got any CDs or records…

Matt: You’ll just have a screen and a chair.

Jamie: You’ll just go, ‘Sound. This is sound.’

Matt: With nowt on your wall.

Jamie: You can just have everything [at your fingertips]; turn your fire on, open your curtains…

Alex: You’d get in it for your bath. (All laugh)

[Alex goes into the band’s equipment drawer, pulls out a giant figure of Freddie Mercury in full-on rock pose. “See, he said he likes things that stand up,” Matt says.]

Does being on an independent label give you the freedom to experiment with your marketing or promotions? 

Matt: Yeah. They [Domino] have as many ideas as us for stuff like that, like the Oxfam thing. They tend to think on a similar level, and, at the same time, if we have a suggestion, they’re open to it. It sometimes is a good thing to have a label like Domino, cos they’re experienced in doing weird stuff, and have obviously signed things that aren’t necessarily to make any money or anything, so we’ll listen to them if they have a suggestion, and vice versa. They’d put records out on tins of beans and all sorts. (All laugh)

Jamie: I wanted to do it on a conifer. I wanted to put an MP3 out on a conifer.

Matt: Or just seeds. Christmas tree seeds.

Alex: Yeah. What did they actually do?

Matt: There’s a Jewish guy, I forgot what his name is, and they did it on a kosher chicken noodle soup or something. You buy the soup and you get the code [for the MP3]. Which is good in a way, because he’s just poo-pooing the fact that there’s not much point. It’s an incentive, but it doesn’t get it in the chart, you see. It’s a give-away. So you can sell anything and just have an MP3 code on it. You can sell a car and you’d just get one song.

Jamie: But then it doesn’t count towards t’charts?

Matt: No. The Oxfam thing don’t either, does it. Only the download bit does. You’re not allowed to give away incentives like free stuff, because that’s obviously encouraging people. See, that’s the thing – people might buy the soup and not download the song. ‘I wonder if they make good soup?’

Jamie: When you see a good cover sometimes…

Matt: Yeah, you buy it for the cover.

Alex: Perhaps the epitome of that is you buying a Lady Gaga picture disc. (Laughs)

Matt: Yeah, I did. I’ve been a fool.

Alex: It’s great, cos she’s wearing like a fuckin’ box of Coco Pops or something. (Laughs)

Matt: You could buy that Freddie Mercury thing and get a Queen album, for instance. You don’t need to put it on or owt.

Jamie: You want to make it awkward.

Matt: Buy a chair. Buy a flat pack piece of furniture and you get a code for an album.

Jamie: You have to put your furniture up and send a picture to someone, then they send you the MP3.

Alex: That would make a good video: playing in a bowl of Coco Pops. (All laugh) Remember that kids programme where they used to have to go swimming in a bowl of cereal…

Jamie: Ah yeah. Didn’t they used to do something like that on The Big Breakfast?

Matt: They did, yeah.

Jamie: It were a massive cup of tea and you used to have to get the sugar lumps…

Matt: Yeah, yeah, that was it: One Lump Or Two.

Jamie: One Lump Or Two, yeah!

Alex: It would be great: kid comes down, he’s having his breakfast – Coco Pops – and then, like, Arctic Monkeys are in his cereal. (All laugh)

Jamie: Hot milk, though.

Matt: Hot milk in t’afternoon.

Alex: (Laughs) ‘Why not try Coco Pops after school?’

Jamie: (Laughs) I love that advert!

Alex: It’s the best!

Do your fans give you CDs of their bands?

Matt: They throw them on t’stage! Imagine if you got one of them in t’eye! Fuckin’ hell! Remember in America, a kid got on stage and he had a handful [of CDs] and someone had to grab him to get him off, but he threw them. So he were getting pulled away and he threw them.

Alex: I’ve been getting less CDs though…

Matt: Now they’re throwing download cards at you!

Alex: I got a pair of underpants…

Jamie: People are chucking downloads at you. You’re like, ‘What the fuck?’

Matt: People are throwing zeroes and ones at you – it’s like the credits of The Matrix!

Jamie: You can’t get any flick on a download.

Alex: They’re chucking Spotifys at me. Maybe that’s what them pants were – some sort of code.

I think it’d be a totally different sort of code! Do you listen to the music that fans give you?

Matt: I listened to one that someone gave me the other day. It just were at home though, he just gave it me.

Alex: No more than I’d wear that pair of pants! (Laughs)

Matt: It were just convenient – I were getting in me car and there’s a CD player there.

What’s the strangest thing a fan has given you?

Matt: Just in Japan – everything you get is weird! Like, a monkey hat – it left your own face in but it’s got ears and a tail.

Jamie: And sweets.

Matt: A lot of sweets.

Jamie: We once said, ‘Oh, we like these sweets’ in an interview…

Nick: There’s someone that makes baked goods.

Matt: You got a good one, where it were like a picture of you…

Alex: Yeah, I got like a diagram of myself…

Matt: A diagram, pointing at every bit, and then asking to fill in, like, what his favourite brand of jeans were.

Alex: Hand it back, and then she’d sort of kit me out.

Matt: She’d buy it all! So, like, ‘Favourite shoes? Trainers or boots?’ It would be like that. He’d fill it in and send it back and then she’d buy it. ‘Will this do?’

Alex: Back it came with this jumper that were perfect actually. She really knew me better than I knew meself.

Nick: With baked goods, I know it’s not [spiked], but you never know… It’s probably fine – it’s more than likely fine – but it is a gamble.

Matt: It’s innocent, but someone might have seen that opportunity.

Jamie: I don’t think I’m ever gonna eat a baked good that some stranger’s made. You learn about that. There is a story there…

What’s the first thing you do when you get home after the tour is finished? 

Nick: See your friends and family that you’ve not seen.

Matt: I go and get my photos developed. That’s actually one of the first things I do.

Alex: I usually pick up me guitar. Honestly. It’s a deep breath.

Later that evening, Clash is back in the ping-pong room. The tour manager comes to break bad news to the band - the curtain at the front of the stage is broken. They won't be able to make their usual grand entrance. "Ah, we've got to do it," grins Alex. Do what? "We've been saying on this tour if ever the curtain doesn't work, we've got to go on to this song." Which song? "Black Eyed Peas’ ‘I Gotta Feelin’’," Alex beams. The band are giddily bouncing around, electrified by the prospect of taking the stage to the song that's soundtracked many a menopausal vodka-stained Saturday evening's preparatory gathering.

“But when do we go on?" Matt asks.

"The rap. We gotta wait for the rap," Alex asserts.

"We should wait until "Mazel tov”,” Jamie smirks.

Ten minutes later, Clash is amidst the Offenbach crowd when the lights go out and the song bursts from the PA. A wave of euphoria swells, the irony not lost, and right on cue, just as the Peas declare, "I know that we'll have a ball", the four Monkeys stride towards their instruments.

The nineteen-song set covers their three albums - with Nick Cave's 'Red Right Hand’ thrown in for good measure. The last song before their encore is 'Secret Door’ from 'Humbug’. Just as Matt cracks the snare drum that launches the song's long psychedelic outro, cannons on the roof blast out gold and silver confetti over the joyous crowd below, proving that the Monkeys aren't averse to a bit of showmanship every now and then.

The after party is a subdued affair (well, in Offenbach it's bound to be!), with just the band, some friends, crew, and Clash, diving into the beer and nibbles on offer. A fairly drunken chat with Alex about Johnny Cash, Billie Holiday and Gram Parsons rounds off our time with the band, as they retreat back to the confines of their bus, about to depart for Dusseldor and their next gig.

Such a welcome and warm atmosphere is often rare backstage, especially with a band as celebrated as this, but the Monkeys - ever changing and ever surprising - are beginning to make a habit of defying expectations. Growing up has never been such fun.

#arctic monkeys #alex turner #matt helders #nick o'malley #jamie cook #humbug era #clash magazine #interview #not my scan #bands #screenshots from vk #in another universe they wouldve started a four white men talking podcast #eye contact #my image id

[smokinholsters]

The Lucky Horseshoes - A Heartland Season 16 AU - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Lisa sat in the edge of Amy’s bed while she brushed out her hair and then changed her jeans and blouse.

“So we’ll pick up Lyndy, head over to Maggie’s for a snack and to grab Lou and then paint and furniture ?”

“That’s the plan for today, I don’t expect we’ll get to window treatments and area rugs until the final paint choices so we can get swatched. What did you think about the space ?”

Lisa nodded “Pleasantly surprised actually, I didn’t know what to expect, nice sized rooms, a guest room slash office, new kitchen, 2 bathrooms.”

“I was scared it wouldn’t be bright but the windows are nice and big and they face well.” Amy said brushing out her hair. She checked herself in the mirror and stood up. “Ok, I’m ready let’s head over to the school.”

“Lyndy was positively bursting this morning.”

“She was, she’s very excited, a whole new adventure and she loves hanging out with the center kids.”

“You over last night Amy ?” Lisa asked as they sat in the mud room putting on shoes and boots.

Amy pulled on her boot and sat up to look at her “nothing to get over Lisa, it’s done and the only thing I want is their good wishes. What about Heartland, seriously, as if Grandpa thought to ever once ask me about Heartland, and I’m just down the road Lisa, Lyndy doesn’t even have to change buses. Thank you all for stepping up by the way. I don’t know, between Finn and the horses I work with and this.”

Lisa reached over and put her hand on Amy’s arm “Hey he loves you, sometimes it just comes out this way, he worries about you.”

“And there’s Ty, I know, you don’t have to say it, I’ll always love Ty, but he has to let me move on.” She sighed and then smiled “Come on or we’ll be late, let’s go pick out some purple paint.”

They took Amy’s truck in case they had to transport anything. Amy and the center had more than enough help to paint so they decided to conserve money by buying the paint and what supplies they needed She’d take what they could today and pick up the rest during the week. The furniture would probably have to be ordered.

After picking Lyndy up they sat at Maggie’s sharing two slices of Saskatoon pie with coffee for the adults and milk for Lyndy.

Amy swallowed and turned to Lisa “Hear from Jessica today ?”

“A text while she was waiting for her meeting, she’ll text when she’s done.”

“I hope she gets the job whatever the job is.”

“Magazine ad for men’s soap.”

“Men’s soap ? What’s men’s soap ?”

Lisa laughed “I don’t know soap with a manly smell I guess.”

It was Amy’s turn to laugh now “All the me I know smell like livestock and manure most of the time.”

Lou laughed at that point “I don’t think that’s what they’re shooting for.”

They were done and Amy checked her daughter’s face “Lyndy, go get washed up and we’ll head over to look at paint and get samples.”

“What are samples momma ?”

“They’ll give us little can of the paints we like to try on the walls and when we decide they’ll make the colors we choose and we’ll paint the walls.”

“I want purple.”

“I know Lyndy but there’s going to be 20 or 30 different purples. You can pick three or four and we can paint little squares on the wall in your room and you can choose the one you like most.”

“Like a game !!”

Lisa smiled “just like a game sweetheart and then you can help with the other rooms.”

“Ok, now go wash up.”

It was Wednesday before they could head over to paint on the swatches and Amy had promised Lyndy that she could help so Lisa and Jessica met Amy and Lyndy at the center house soon to be Amy’s new home.

They had fun painting the squares and waiting for the paint to dry though they’d come back in the morning to make sure that the colors were true. Lyndy, true to her word chose four somewhat light purples for her room. Amy on the other hand chose several shades of greys. They were interesting and tinted with other colors, green for her room, rose for the bathrooms, hallway and kitchen, and blue for the guest bedroom. The house was old and restored rather than redone and one of the features they made sure to keep were the intricate crown moldings which would be painted white along with the window sashes and ceilings.

It was early and dinner would be a small group with the men attending a Foothills Cowboy Association meeting and Lou at some Mayoral event. As such Lisa had declared it a pizza night and everyone, especially Lyndy, was fine with it. They needed half an hour for the paint to dry completely and decided on a walk since Amy wanted to check on the kids, the horses and Mrs. Renata Corazon, the centers’ new ranch mother. 

“It’s really a nice space.” Jessica said as the came out of the house.

Amy’s response was cut short as a small gas engine kicked off and filled the air with sound. She stopped speaking rather than raise her voice and followed the sound around the corner of the house.

They found Mrs. Corazon and Clint leaning against the chicken wire covered fence post that surrounded what used to be the ranch’s vegetable garden watching three of the boys working alongside a fourth who was working a rather large tiller.

Amy smiled and stepped over to stand next to Mrs. Corazon who had turned and smiled at her when she noticed the younger now official facility director walking over.

“Renata, good to see you settling in.”

“It’s not a ranch without a garden Amy.”

Amy nodded “I agree 100 percent, we should get some chickens also. Where’d the tiller come from ?”

“Borrowed from the Potter’s next door, very nice people.”

“Little late to be planting.”

“For a lot but we can still plant late season greens and get a harvest.”

“And a good start for next year I guess.”

“Hello Renata.” 

The middle aged woman looked down between herself and Amy and then leaned over with open arms. A moment later she stood with Lyndy arms around her neck.

“How are you today Lyndy ?”

“Good, we’re waiting for the paint to dry and then we’re having pizza.”

“Pizza huh, that sounds good, I’m making tacos for dinner.”

“I like tacos.”

“Then I will make them for you when you have start sharing dinner with us.”

“And lasagna.”

Renata laughed “I remember the lasagna and burgers and the stew sweetheart.”

“And it’s not just Renata’s job to cook for us Lyndy but for everyone at the center.”

“I know.”

One of the perks to Amy, would be that she and Lyndy would eat dinner with the group, a family dinner around a very large oak table in the oversized dining room on the first floor of the center house. They’d have breakfast upstairs in the apartment and lunch would go either way. For most of the year that would mean Lyndy having lunch at school.

“Lyndy, how about you introduce Renata to your grandmothers ?”

Lyndy nodded and Renata turned and let her down onto the ground.

“This is Grandma Jessica and this is Grandma Lisa but she’s really Great Grandma. This is Renata.”

They both smiled and introduced themselves formally and with handshakes as Jessica Cook and Lisa Stillman as did Renata in return.

“So you’ll be taking care of our girls from now on I guess.”

“Soon enough, that’s my job but Amy’s being stubborn about it so I promise to do my best.”

Lisa laughed  “just make her chocolate chip cookies.”

“I like chocolate chip cookies.” Lyndy piped up.

Jessica leaned over to kiss her head “I can’t imagine why.”

“I don’t think it’s being stubborn to clean my own living space Renata.”

“It is when your job is 7 days a week and basically 24 hours a day.”

Amy’s answer was waylaid by her phone which she checked. Everyone saw her smile before her “excuse me”.

“Hey you, all done ?”

“And on the way, I’ll be in Hudson by 6 or so, think I can take you and Lyndy to dinner ?”

“Nope but you can pick up two pizzas and two dozen garlic knots and bring them to the house. Grandpa and dad are telling tall tales tonight.”

“So the coast is clear ?”

“This has nothing to do with you Finn.”

“And ?”

Amy laughed “the coast is clear.”

“Then I’ll text when I’m at the pizza shop.”

“Finn ?” Jessica asked when Amy turned back.

“On his way home and picking up our pizzas. How about you three look around, I should check in with Logan or Michelle and I’ll find you in 5 minutes.”

“You won’t find them Amy; Michelle, Logan and the girls are out exercising the horses. I’ll have one of them check in with you when they’re back.

Amy nodded “thank you Renata, I’ll talk to you after dinner. I guess we’ll check the paint and head back to Heartland. Clint you need me for something ?”

Clint smiled “for everything but tomorrow will do.”

Amy smiled back “Call if you need me and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Katie was waiting when they got back to Heartland and was happy to watch over Lyndy while Amy got some work done with the horses. Amy assumed Jack was out at the herd

and felt a little guilty that she felt relieved they wouldn’t have to talk about Finn again. She sighed when after an hour she glanced up from the round pen where she was working and saw him and her dad coming over the rise.

“How did everything go today Amy ?”

Amy stopped and turned “It went good dad, I’ll double check the colors in the morning and place the paint order so hopefully we’ll get that done over the weekend.”

“So what do you think, a month ?”

“I guess thereabouts, it really depends on the furniture and appliances for now.”

“Tim, can we get these horses settled so I can shower ?”

“Yes Jack, in a minute.”

“Amy, everything Ok ?”

Amy nodded “All good Grandpa.”

Tim turned towards Champ and then stopped again “let me know if you need help with anything Amy.”

“Thanks Dad.”

Guiltily she waited until her dad and grandfather were done with their horses before leading Farraj, the horse she had been working with into the barn to brush him down.

She watched her dad head upstairs to the loft and her grandfather walk to the entrance and stop.

“Count me in for the help too Amy.”

“You mean that Grandpa ?” Amy asked stopping a couple meters from him.

“Of course I do.”

“Well then thank you and I’ll let you know.”

“Need help now ?”

Amy smiled “I’m good Grandpa, you should go get ready or you’ll be late for the tall tales.”

Jack laughed “it’s not just tall tales Amy.”

“I know, there’s drinking, back slapping and food that’s definitely bad for you.”

“Ok, Ok.” Jack chuckled “I’ll see you inside.”

“I’ll be in soon.”

She spent longer in the barn than she had planned on deciding to check on the rest of the horses and take care of the worst of the stalls. It would make night check easier. That time translated into her walking back with Tim who was on his way to grab Jack for the meeting and waited for her.

“Excited about moving ?”

“And nervous, thanks for the other night by the way.”

“I think this might actually be best for you Amy. Jess is sure of it.”

“I have to try.” Amy answered softly.

“I’m sure you’ll do better than try.”

“Thanks dad.”

“When does Finn get back ?”

“Soon, he’s bringing the pizza.”

Tim smiled and held the door open for her.

Finn’s text came as Tim’s truck backed away. Lisa, Jessica, Amy and Lyndy were sitting on the porch. 

“Hey, where are you ?”

“Just pulling in, I assume there’s an order ready ?”

“Under Fleming, all paid for, 2 pies and garlic knots, add anything you want.”

“See you in uh 10 – 15 minutes ? And Amy could you put up a pot of coffee please ?”

“Right now, drive safe.”

When she saw the green truck pull up Amy went out to meet Finn and help him with the food. She grabbed the two bags he was carrying and left the pizza in his hands. She leaned up and kissed him.

“Good trip ?” She asked as they walked up the steps to where Lisa was holding open the door to the house.

“It was, you, the paint and furniture ?”

“It was good, I’d like you to look.”

“My only schedule tomorrow is working with the kids at the center in the afternoon so just let me know.”

The big surprise of the evening was Finn adding zeppoles to the mix. Lyndy had never had one and immediately fell in love with the small warm and crisp fried dough balls covered in confectioners sugar and was quickly covered in the white powder. She was allowed two and promised one for an after camp snack the next day.

Once done she was whisked off by Katie who volunteered to get her cleaned up and changed for bed. With dinner away they settled on the porch with coffee where Amy and Finn took the bench and where Lyndy joined them with a book for Amy to read to her. Her second yawn was the signal for bed and Amy excused herself to get her into bed after a round of hugs and a nose kiss from Katie.

Jessica sipped her coffee and savored the swallow “I guess we won’t be seeing you around much longer Finn.”

“I’ll be around Jessica.”

“Around the center though.”

“Well yeah I doubt I’ll be showing up with pizza if Amy’s living there.”

“Maybe just some zeppoles every now and again ?”

Finn laughed “Maybe Lisa, how are things going at Fairfield ?”

“Nothing much different except Platinum Bow relaxing rather than traveling. The stone bruise seems to be healing well.”

“That’s good, have them keep an eye on it though, they can be tricky.”

“What can be tricky ?” Amy asked coming out.

“Stone bruises, Amy could you take a look ?”

 “Platinum Bow ?”

Lisa nodded.

“I’ll talk to Scott and come by, of course.”

“And bring Finn ?” Lisa asked with a smile.

“That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I should get home, how about we meet at Fairfield in the morning and you can head to the center from there ?”

“9 Ok ?”

“9 is fine, I’ve gotta pay for the truck at 11 so we’re good.”

“I’ll walk you down.”

Finn said goodnight to Lisa, Jessica and Katie who was occupying her normal spot on the stairs and took Amy’s hand when they stepped to the ground. They stood behind the open door and he slipped his hands onto her waist.

“I missed you.”

Amy smiled “I missed you too, weird huh ?”

“It’s good to hear though, see ya in morning ?”

“You gonna kiss me in front of an audience of admirers Finn Cotter ?”

“We don’t want to disappoint them.”

Amy smiled and nodded no while mouthing “no we don’t” and leaned against him raising her lips to his as he pulled her gently closer. When their lips pulled apart she dropped her head to his chest and felt his hand move to the small of her back. She sighed when she felt him relax his hands back to her hips.

They had both heard Lou pulling up in her SUV and smiled when she called out “Ok, break it up you two.”

“Sleep well Amy Fleming.”

“See you in the morning Finn.”

Amy followed Lou up to the porch where Katie was actually waiting to say goodnight.

“Any coffee left ?” Lou asked after Katie made the goodnight rounds on the porch and headed up to her room.

“Should be a couple cups, I’ll split what’s left with you lou, come on, how was your meeting ?” Amy asked walking into the kitchen.

“Not as exciting as that kiss.” Lou said softy “Have you two ?”

“Lou !!” Amy hissed.

“What Amy, it’s just a question that I guess is a no or you’d be blushing.”

“It’s a no but it’s, I don’t know, fine for now, it hasn’t been an issue.”

“As long as you’re both fine with it, has he ?”

“We’re good Lou.”

“So when’s the big date, this Saturday right ?”

“Saturday night though we went to KO’s this past Saturday with Cass and Caleb. Want to see my outfit ?”

Lou smiled “Of course, let’s say good night on the porch first.”

“I’m not trying it on.”

Laugh smiled “Of course you’re trying it on, come on.”

#heartland #heartland-fanfiction #fanfic #amy fleming #finn cotter #season 16

[the-firebird69]

We do get your ideas and we're telling people to sit tight no we're telling them we're evacuating we have a line on several cruise ships and we're not going to retrofit no we have to we're doing like you thought was a good idea to rancho fit them up there those steam down here fast it'll take only a few hours and we can attach everything while it's steaming down and we're going to do that and bring a lot of the hardware and we're going to pull everything out now and then load it up with everything and move out and get it all hooked up it's like three or four of them and they hold about 20 or 30,000 people each and that's a lot and it's what we needed we're looking for more but while we're doing that we're getting it ready and we got these four now five ships they were turning into ferries and that'll be done just a couple hours and we'll need more stuff to do and he said we could dredge up to fisherman's village or really it's probably a pier somewhere there is a pier and it's kind of small and it's not way out there you can't get to it fisherman's village would be nice but you can't get that far in but the further in the easier it is a floating wharf would be too far it's like 300 yards you can't drag it down anymore it gets harder so we're going to keep it where it is but we might hire some boats to ferry people some of them are ideal they are old tugboats and they didn't want to help and they'll probably leave the boat here anyways and he says that he if he doesn't evacuate and get stuck he could buy the boat from someone and call it Christian to some Christian Dom they do like it and we're getting ready it's a great idea it's to hire people and we only had a few bowls like three and boats and with those boats will probably do it in four or five trips everybody will get on safely and we'll start ferrying to the big ones it's moving out and we have the buses school buses but they do the buses down there they leave from fort Myers and they need the buses in Miami but we do have buses that we need the out in the middle and so I'm going to get those yeah we might be getting kicked out too

Trump I'm the top part Cherry cheeseman on the middle part in Mac Daddy on the bottom part and our friend here has had these ideas just to get going on it and he says there's a lot of trucks here if you're evacuating you should take essential vehicles to where you're evacuating to essential transport vehicles so you're not stranded but we have vehicles out there but we know what you're saying and take valuables with trucks and the worst comes to worse when you're doing that on their way back they can pick people up and we're going to do that now and we know what you're saying it's not really that great or legal but we do see what you're saying so I'm going to get all the buses we can right now and

mac daddy I'm in there too a little bit Trump and me too Terry cheesman and I'm kind of listening to it all and saying some things bja and we're all here us women and we do need it to be a little bit nicer Jenna more toilets would be good so he wants me to request it on the ferry the big ships the big ships have a lot of them so we're trying to get it locally but we want them to pull some out of the rooms they have general toilets and some of the rooms can be for planning and meetings and they're going to go ahead and do that and it's a good idea you had Chris anything we need some showers in there too in case they can do it on the ferry while they're waiting so let's get going on these things and thank you very much Chris and you're welcome Jenna it's good to have you here on the blog and I hope everything goes well and we appreciate it and you might have to be on there so let's make it civil so lly shall we

Jenna

I want to be civil too and I have ideas there to put portal parties in case of toilets are full a lot of people really have to go when it starts rocking and we need people to run the toilet to Honey wagon quite often and he says you can't just put a portal potty you have to put portable toilets and you have to have the equipment and it has to be like on deck and bolted down and he's just putting a steel angle iron over the edge and they don't have to do it they do it all the time and we're going to go ahead and do that it's potential for it to make a mess so we might try alternatives first bringing more restrooms the shifted these are small cruise ships and should have toilets and I didn't know that

Lily

They do have a toilets but not all of them are operating and and you can't run into each room so he says you need to designate on a couple floors on each floor a couple extra toilets or three with some showers in case people dirty themselves just for the ferry ride yeah so maybe and the room can be cleared and toiletries and other accessories can be put in there for people clean underwear and shorts or pants that one size fits all kind of thing and they're

Zues Hera

We have all the stuff under the big ships and we know how to get it here fast and I'm going to try and get that stuff but in the meantime everybody please donate and generously this is your ride and your trip and we're going to do the bathroom thing there's a ton of them on cruise ships but there's only a few that work on this one and you can make those room designated for a standing and waiting and there be like four or four decks and there's already two big bathrooms each deck and the men and women each one and so they're pleased you have to do the men women thing or the women get way backed up

Bja

Kind of makes us go fast and we can do it fast

Jenna and handy wipes everybody bring handy waves we need tons of it and VGA that we need the lot and he knows

[slowlycasualtraveler]

Don't Make This Silly Mistake With Your second hand cars in Goodwick

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You save precious time.

On your day-to-day travels, you might require to stop off for gas, food, rest, shower room breaks, visits, and so on. Occasionally, you may have to leave your trip mid-way due to organizing conflicts, unanticipated circumstances, or something else completely. If you determine to utilize public transportation, you'll more than likely face long lines. Additionally, the chances of experiencing a delay are significantly high since lots of people share the very same route. Nonetheless, what happens if you had an automobile? Your trip would be smooth cruising.

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If you do not desire anyone to recognize that you are seeing your friend's house or maybe going on a business journey, then why would you enable them to adhere to together with you or even see where you're going when you can employ a personal automobile? Privacy is important, specifically when it involves personal matters. It makes a lot of feeling to maintain your privacy. You are totally capable of driving safely and also firmly to any place you need to go. All that needs to be done is to obtain a sedan that supplies complete privacy. Do not allow individuals invade your space whenever they pick.

[furiouscrownllama]

How to Explain cars for sale in Gloucestershire to Your Grandparents

https://media-cldnry.s-nbcnews.com/image/upload/t_fit-760w

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You might be acquainted with the idea that there are several sorts of cars and trucks. This isn't only real however if we additionally explore this idea then it becomes extra clear to us concerning the different differences in cars as well as how they function and what all they do. These may look like very small details but they help a great deal when it involves driving. In case where you might require to drive throughout town or even further far from home, having a map or directions convenient helps out a whole lot. If any type of motorist has a vehicle then he would certainly a minimum of know his environments well. However, those who use public transportations know nothing regarding their surrounding that makes them prone to crashes. When it concerns renting a vehicle with an exclusive auto rental business, you get to pick the most effective choice on your own. As an example, if you want something extra unique or luxurious, you can go all out. Additionally; you wouldn't need to fret about just how risk-free the route is due to the fact that the whole procedure would be dealt with by the firm.

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You stay clear of obtaining lost.

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[deppsessed]

Good luck charm #2

Part one here

Pairing: Johnny Depp x reader

It’s taken me a few weeks to write and be happy with this part to post. I hope that you all enjoy it and that it was worth the wait. 

  A few days later, I swear I can still smell the musky scent of Sauvage, and the taste of cigarettes on my lips. It’s hard to comprehend any of the last seventy-two hours being real, and going by Alex’s (who I’m sitting opposite having coffee with) reaction and raised eyebrows at me retelling the whole story, she’s having a hard time with it too. And in all honesty, I don’t blame her, it’s a lot to process.

“So, he invited you to the concert after party?”

I nod my head and take a sip of my coffee. 

“Yep.”

“And he took you back to his hotel room? Where you-”

My lips curve into a smirk.

“He sure did.” 

“And you’re aware of the fact this all sounds like a badly written fanfiction?”

I have to burst out laughing. There’s no denying it because it really, really does. I couldn’t have made it up if I tried.

“Did I tell you about the part where he had to get his security to smuggle me out of the building unnoticed the next morning?”

For me, that had been the most amusing part of the story. Having breakfast with him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. After a few more spent kisses and I’d decided that it was time for us to part ways, he’d sent in his security in to make sure I got out of the building safely.

“But the real question is… Has he called or texted you?”

He hadn’t yet. The band had played a show last night, and would be travelling again for their next tomorrow. I wasn’t hanging on and waiting for him to reach out to me either. It would be pretty easy for me to pick up the phone and call him too, but I refused to be that desperate. 

I shake my head in reply to Alex’s question.

“No, but he gave me his number.”

“So, he’s waiting for you to call him then?” 

Realistically, the chances were that it was a one night thing. I wouldn’t hear from him again and we’d go our separate ways. I’d rather be hit with the reality of the situation than holding out on hope for a phone call and being disappointed when it didn’t happen. 

“I’m not going to. I don’t want him to think that I’m pining over him and completely desperate!” 

“You’re insane… You know, if he wasn’t in the slightest bit interested then he wouldn’t have given you his number to begin with.”

That was a true enough point to make, but I’m still not deluded enough to give into the fantasy. I’m ready to give her a reply when my phone, that’s been sitting on the table in front of me, starts to frantically vibrate. 

“Oh my god!” 

Alex spots the name on the screen before I’m able to take a glance. 

“He’s calling you! This really is a badly written fanfiction!” 

I shrug my shoulders and continue to let the phone ring out. If it’s important, he’ll leave a voicemail. 

“If you don’t answer that, I will!” 

I scowl at her and shake my head, it’s hard to believe that I’m the one that’s being responsible about handling all of this. Before she’s able to reach for the phone, I’m swiping it off the table and standing up. “I’m at least taking it outside.” I grumble under my breath.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi-” The voice on the other end is raspy and familiar. I can just about see him fidgeting around like he does in interviews when he’s nervous. “It’s Johnny.”

Silence.

 I’m confused. Does he want me to make the next move?

“Right… Your name rings a bell. There was this Johnny, that the other night I went to go and see his band and ended up spending the night in his hotel room-”

I don’t even mean for the words to sound as aggressive as they do .

“I feel like I owe you a little of an explanation -- I don’t usually do this. I, uh, I don’t usually invite girls - especially fans -  back to my hotel room, and not call for three days.” 

So it’s one of those phone calls, where he’s expecting to let me down gently and feels the need to explain everything that I already know to be the case. 

“There’s no need to make a fool of yourself… I get it.” 

“I don’t think that you do.” 

What isn’t there to get? 

“I get it. I mean this is probably the part where you offer me an obscene amount of money to not go to the press about it. You don’t need to worry--”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I freeze dead in my tracks, the thoughts of my overactive imagination and the words that I’m about to hit him with come to a close. Am I hearing things? Did he really just say…

“What?”

“It’s probably a really bad line. I don’t know if you heard me, I said….”

God, he’s insufferable. 

“No, I heard you… I just don’t get it.”

He has his choice of any girl in the world. Models, actresses, and here he is calling me.

“The other night was special for me-”

It’s a cliché, and just about the worst thing that he could come out with, but I’ll let him continue. 

“Listen, this probably sounds insane… but I want you here for the show tomorrow-”

He can’t be serious or that disconnected with reality. But then I remember the industry that he’s been working with the past thirty years, where he doesn’t have a nine to five job to cling onto, with a snap of his fingers he can pack his bags and travel somewhere else.

“I can fly you out, get you into the concert.”

That’s it. I can’t hold in my laughter, and I can just about see him pondering on the other end what’s so funny about his offer.

“I have a job-”

“So, call in sick?”

“It doesn’t work like that or that I don’t want to. It’s just, if I let you pay for the tickets and fly me out then that’s cheap, and I don’t want to be that person.”

There’s a long, drawn out sigh on the other end of the phone.

“Let me call you back.” I tell him, “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

---

A family emergency had been the most inventive thing that I’d been able to come up with, but it at least stopped any questions and pestering from work and friends about skipping town all of a sudden. The process of getting there had been planned to perfection, he was going to have one of the band’s security head on out to the airport and take me back to the concert venue - even if I had told him ten times how ridiculous it was and that I could get a cab, he had been insistent. 

The journey from the airport to the venue has me pondering the insanity of it all. Both in him actually wanting me here, and me going as far as to make it happen.  

The car pulls into the loading bay of the venue, where the tour buses and trucks with the band’s gear are on it. It’s when I get out of the car, that I notice him, like he’s just stepped off a photoshoot, puffing on a cigarette. I make the conscious decision to take him by surprise and sneak up on him.

“You know, those things are going to kill you one day-”

He startles, just about jumping out of his skin and choking on his cigarette in the process. 

“Too bad we’re all going to die anyway, so we might as well indulge in the bad things while we’re alive and kicking.”

“That’s a little of a morbid stance to have.”

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders, unphased, “Calling me out on my smoking and then calling me morbid might be the best ‘hello’ I’ve ever gotten.”

He flicks the cigarette to the floor before stubbing it out with his shoe. He stands there with outstretched arms, ready to welcome me, but in blind panic I go for a handshake rather than a hug.

“Hi.” 

His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I can almost see his thought process of just how he’s going to redeem himself and move on from the award pause.

“Hi,” There’s a long pause. “Was your flight okay? You got here safe?”

Thankfully, the flight had only been a couple of hours long - but that was more than enough time for me to spend on a plane. There was something about being in a constricted space, thousands of feet up in the air that made me nervous. Plus, without fail, I always felt disgusting afterwards.

“Guy beside me was snoring and drooling the whole time, I felt incriminated.” 

“Should’ve taken my offer to fly you out first class.” I snort and roll my eyes at him. We’d already been over this, I’d made myself clear, I wasn’t going to be his groupie.

“Actually, without being rude, is there a place I can go and shower first? Being frisked at security and sitting on a plane kind of makes me feel gross.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement, I can almost see the cheeky comment that he’s threatening to make on the tip of his tongue, but something stops him.  “Tour bus is free at the moment. I can give you the exclusive tour, too.” 

Showering on a tour bus. Great. Exactly what I had in mind. 

“Ladies first,” He gestures with his hand for me to move in front of him. It doesn’t take a scientist to work out that the giant black RV with the band logo across it is where we’re headed..

Much to my surprise, going inside, it’s more like a luxury hotel room on wheels. It feels a better standard than my apartment back home.

“This part is the kitchen…. We don’t use it much, aside from the mini bar.” 

It doesn’t even qualify to be called a kitchen. It’s a tiny little counter space with a microwave, a coffee machine, and a mini fridge. 

“And this is where we sit and relax, talk, play guitar...” He points towards the plush leather sofas adjacent to each other. “The cool part here is that the wall slides back if you need more space.”

“Impressive.”

“These are the bunks where we bring back the groupies.” 

I’m unsure whether they look claustrophobic, like I’ve heard many complaints about, or if they look quite cozy.

“There’s a proper bedroom through there too, but Alice and Joe usually fight it out for it. I don’t mind sleeping it rougher.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “Bathroom is through the back. Take as much time as you need. I’ll stand guard for you.” 

“Thank you.” I look up at him with a smile before brushing past to open the door on the back wall that extends out into the bathroom. Much to my surprise, the room isn’t all that smaller than the bathroom in my apartment back home. The shower, that I assumed was going to be a small, cramped space, is quite spacious. The only strange thing is stripping down and knowing who is standing guard by the door.

He’s in every way true to his word, too. As I turn the water off and grab a towel to wrap myself in, I can hear a disagreement going on outside between Johnny and Tommy about the bathroom being otherwise engaged.

“I’m telling you, dude, you’re just going to need to find somewhere else to go and pee… Bathroom is off limits!”

“But I can’t hold it in, man! I’m dying! You think I can use the kitchen sink?”

Johnny starts to laugh at him, “You can’t be serious!”

There’s a little more toilet talk back and forth and laughing still going on by the time I’m dressed and nudging the door open carefully.

“Um, hi, Tommy.” I greet nervously and fold my arms over my chest.

“Oh! Now I get it… You have a girl here!” 

I can feel a blush rise to my cheeks just thinking about what is no doubt going through his mind. Thankfully, Johnny comes to the rescue.

“It’s not -- it isn’t that, Tommy.” 

“Oh, I’m sure.” He gives a wink at the two of us. “I’ll leave you to it, J-man!” And just like that, Tommy is off the bus.

“I’m sorry about him.” Johnny sighs, “He says what he thinks, there’s no stopping him.” 

“It’s fine,” I brush off, acting as if I’m unbothered. But in reality, that one comment has gotten to me. I can’t help but have the niggling thought in the back of my mind, if that’s the way that Tommy is going to react, then what is the rest of the band going to be like? 

---

The concert was amazing, even better than what it had been a few nights ago. I’d watched the show from the side of the stage, and could safely say that this time, Johnny had been looking and smiling at me. 

I hadn’t wanted to face the confrontations of the band after the show, so after the encore, I had decided to hide away in Johnny’s dressing room to look at my phone for a moment of peace and quiet. If I was to exclude the fact that it was Johnny Depp’s dressing room that I was sitting in, it would have felt like the first normal moment of an otherwise bizarre day. 

The door flying open makes me look up from the screen, to see Johnny standing there, still hot and sweaty from being under the lights. 

“Everything okay?” He asks with a concerned expression, “You weren’t there when I came off stage. I was a little worried that I’d scared you off.”

I’m hardly going to tell him that I’m scared of running into the band when he’s the one that’s brought me out here to be with him. “I just didn’t want to get in the way, I thought you guys would be in a race to hit the showers.” I lie coolly. It seems to be good enough, since he goes to change the subject.

“What did you think?” He asks, a grin firmly in place on his lips. “Could you see and hear alright? The speakers weren’t too loud?” 

I grin and nod my head eagerly. “You sounded amazing! Heroes was phenomenal...” I probably sound like I’m trying to impress him, but it’s my favourite song that the band do.

“Ah, you see,” He pauses to take a drink from his water bottle. “I think I had a little bit of extra good luck, with being cheered on the side front.” 

I can feel that warm feeling of heat going up to my cheeks, and certainly not for the first time today. It makes me feel so powerless and awkward to just stand and say nothing.

“Um,” He scratches the back of his head, “You must be hungry?”

Starving, actually. I hadn’t had anything to eat since getting here and been too shy to pluck up the courage to ask about food since getting here. I’d accepted my fate and growling stomach a good few hours ago.  But regardless, I downplay it, “A little, I guess…”

“Do you want to go and grab something to eat? I need to get showered and changed first… 

I’m not certain what prospect makes me more nervous. Dinner with him. Or dinner uncomfortably sitting around all of the Hollywood Vampires eating. Both make my stomach flip. Especially since he isn’t going to specify.

#johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp fanfic

[some-dr-writings]

Nekomaru, Kazuichi and Gundham’s Tsundere S/O got into a fight

Nekomaru Nidai:

·       “Y/N!?” “Ah, it’s you. I’m surprised I didn’t hear you already. Surprised you weren’t talking as you always are.” You huffed, glancing away from your boyfriend, wiping blood off the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. You sat on the ground, leaning against the back wall of the building. Your face was covered in bruises, and your clothes were completely disheveled, scuffed, slightly torn, with smudges of dirt smeared across it. Nekomaru kneeled before you, gently yet firmly he held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, just barely tilting our head. “Sloppy, how did they get this kind of damage on you? Did you lose focus?” “Tch, you should see the other guy. I still got in a few hits. Good ones too.” “… Hmm, come. I’ll patch you up and we’ll strategize! I’ll even give you a special variation of ‘IT’!”

·       “It’s not like you to get into fights like this.” You simply watched; eyes unwavering from Nekomaru as he wrapped a small ice pack around one of your many bruises that littered your body. “Are you feeling ill? Even the smallest of bugs can affect an athletes’ judgement! Even sleeping in slightly later can be a sign! Though… I don’t see anything wrong with you.” Then his gaze met yours. “It’s mental.” You glanced away signaling to Nekomaru that he had hit the nail on the head. You were speaking a lot less than usual, just a few snarky comments. Before he could get a read on what it was you mumbled something. “What? If you’re going to say something, say it with conviction! No holding back!” He then roared, likely being heard for miles around as evidenced by your ringing ears and the sight of many flocks of birds suddenly taking flight, far beyond the window and even the walls that surrounded the school. “Those assholes were talking shit about you! Spewing insults and rumors they had no idea of!” “So, they took your temper to their advantage, no wonder you’re so beaten up.” “I’m not a fighter so it doesn’t fuckin’ matter anyway!”

·       Standing up Nekomaru smiled, placing the supplies back into the first-aid kit. You flinched, feeling the heat raising to your cheeks. “I-it wasn’t for your sake, dumb butt! As if I’d let some trash speak poorly on anything related to me. As if I’d date anyone less than perfection.” Then your cheeks completely flushed red as you froze for a moment before suddenly abruptly standing up. “A-any way! I’m… Going… somewhere! T-TO TOWN! TRAINING, PARKOUR! DON’T WAIT UP!” Before you could dash out the room you felt a hand place itself on your shoulder, his other hand cupping your cheek, turning you to face him. He then smirked, leaning his forehead against yours. “I love you too. But!” He then took a step back. “If you’re going out to sweat out your emotions, you’ll need your manager there, so I’m coming along too!” “O-okay, fine whatever, you can come along, I guess…”

·       Nekomaru couldn’t help but adore seeing that ever darkening blush, as you tried hiding your face, concealing that wobbly smile, even if you were absolutely failing to do so at this point. No matter what, he’s was going to be by your side, supporting you however he could, whether you wanted it or not! You were his partner, and he was determined for you to keep being amazing, to surpass him in every way!

    Kazuichi Soda:

·       “Hmm? Two thirteen!? Where did the time go!?” Kazuichi nervously ran a hand through his hair, seeing how early it was, meaning he had worked nonstop through the night. He quickly set about packing his tools and other supplies, fretting about upsetting you by messing up his sleep schedule… again. He especially felt guilty for how much effort you put into helping him live a little healthier and not spend so much of his time tinkering that he keels over from malnutrition or lack of sunlight.

·       Rushing to the house he tripped over himself when dashing out of his workshop, crashing into a wall in the process. It was… a rather chaotic crash, hearing a deep, resonating crack through his head. He winced feeling his nose in great pain, something cascade from his nostrils. He also noticed how he suddenly couldn’t smell anything; not the rain, or metal, not even motor oil though he had gone nose blind to it long ago. “Oh, shoot.” The guilt only piling on, now he was going to worry you senseless. This was just… fan-freaking-tastict.

·       The very least he could do was not wake you so early in the morning. Though trying to hide this would only worry you more so he’d tell you about what happened after you had woken up. As quietly as he could Kazuichi slinked through the house, tiptoeing into the master bathroom.

·       Suddenly a pair of ear splitting screams pierced through the air. “Kazu-baby!?” “Babe!? WHY ARE YOU BLOODY!?” “WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE YOUR FACE WAS RAN OVER BY A TRUCK!?” The last thing Kazuichi expected to see when turning on the bathroom light was you in the room when it was dark. You both were panicking, you holding Kazuichi’s face, examining his bloodied nose, as Kazuichi held your face noticing how strangely your nose matched his with that red gushing from it. You also had a lot of cuts and bruises riddled in your flesh to match it.

·       After fretting over one another, making sure any and all wounds were patched up, you and he sat side by side on the end of the bed. “What happened to you!?” “Well…” You sighed, your features seeming to grow heaver at the mere thought of whatever happened, sending a deep pain to shoot through your husband’s heart. “I was out for my nightly jog. On my way back home though I was mugged. I managed to escape but this person thought it was a good idea to just keep going after me, so I kept just jogging for a while, even after I thought I lost them, I… didn’t want to lead them home so I just kept going and going, and… I… had been through enough tonight and I didn’t want to deal with the police so I… I skipped going to the hospital. But I didn’t want to wake you up, so I decided to try patching myself up with the lights off.” “Y/N!” You hated seeing the worry in Kazuichi expression, so you immediately took his hands, squeezing them tightly, interlacing your fingers together. “B-but I’m okay! I swear! But what about you? I thought you’d be in bed by now.” “… Uh… I was working, realized how late it was and tripped into a wall when rushing back into the house-“ “Oh. My. Goodness. I’ve married an idiot!” “But what you went through was more important! How are you feeling? Are you sure you’re alright? Are you hurt anywhere else?” “No, no, I’m fine! But Kazu-baby, you need sleep if you smashed into a wall with enough force to break your nose! Come on, let’s just get to bed.”

·       Neither of you got to bed that night, too worried about the other to do so. “Hey, Babe… Want to just cuddle and watch a movie? I…” “… I could really use that tonight. And maybe we could just have a cat nap in the day.” “Heh, yeah. A day lazing around with you sounds fantastic.” So gently he kissed your temples, scared of hurting you, but needing to show you in even a small way how much he cared.

    Gundham Tanaka:

·       With a groan Gundham stirred from his rest, realizing his phone vibrated so much it had fallen off the bedside table, screen side up, lighting up the whole room to which Gundham hissed, shielding himself behind the quilt and sheets. Slowly he crept out, reaching his hand over the bed, patting the ground till his fingers felt that smooth device. Squinting his eyes, he saw he had gotten many messages from you, but the last one simply said ‘never mind. You better not wake up because of this.’ Well… too late for that. Almost every message was a variation of ‘please pick me up’, but then the last few realizing that because you were texting him to pick you up because the buses didn’t run this late, Gundham would probably be asleep by now. Stiffly he sat up, lightly stretching before going to the closet.

·       Walking into the rain, that soft pitter-patter that surrounding him caused him to wonder if by chance it was raining where you were… Just in case he brought a second umbrella, keeping it tucked under his arm… It was also rather chilly out so he brought an extra coat… He also wasn’t sure if you had brought any shoes suited for rain and puddles, so he brought a pair… And from the texts it seems you have been up for a while so perhaps you’d be hungry, so he also brought some leftovers in a small container with him… And maybe- Gundham abruptly shook his head at his own behavior. He needed to get going, not constantly going and in and out for something else… But maybe- “No! Enough of this!” With renewed conviction he strode down the sidewalk, not looking back.

·       It was a rather long walk to be sure, it’d take an hour by train or bus so Gundham jogged along, occasionally checking his phone to make sure he was heading the right way. The Devas huddled in the scarf, snuggled into Gundham, concealing themselves in that warmth, a few occasionally chattering. “I agree, this is entirely too strange, but that’s exactly why we must make haste.” The splashes of his feet against the puddles rippled and warped the reflection of those bight city lights that were drawing ever nearer as Gundham dashed past.

·       Once at the edge, where the streets and towering buildings met Gundham had looked down for but a moment, checking the apartment address when two of his Devas poked their heads out of the scarf, sniffing the air as one lightly nipped his neck. “Huh? My love is…” With a firm nod he began to follow their directions and dropped the phone into his pocket.

·       “Y/N…” You didn’t move, simply glancing at him for a moment. “I told you not to wake up.” Your voice was so horse, so quiet, that even the softest patter of the rain drowned your voice out, Gundham had only understood your words being your Soul’s mate, having been with you for so long he could have predicted it should he have tried too. There you laid, curled up into a ball, hugging your knees to your chest on a bench in the park, under the dead light of a lamp pole. Gundham kneeled before you, holding out the umbrella, himself getting out from under it’s protection in the process before opening the second one for the Devas and himself. You sighed, sitting up. “Since you’re here anyway, I suppose I’ll accept your company. Not that I needed it, I, I’m fine… Just… forgot the time is all.”

·       That little blush that dusted your cheeks suddenly flared up feeling the warmth of the coat that surrounded you and seeing the small container of chicken teriyaki held out before you. “T-the hell did you bring this for?” “Nourishment is a necessity for building up strength, and we have quite a ways to traverse before we’ll return to our domains.” With trembling hands you took the container. You took a bite, slowly chewing it, taking in all the flavors… You tried holding it back, but quickly those tears mixed in with the rain that dripped down your cheeks. “it’s not good cold…”

·       The tears that came pouring out, through hiccups and sobs you shoveled in bite after bite, all the while, Gundham taking off his coat and scarf, draping them over you. “Why, W-why do I even try anymore? I do everything they want, and they STILL blow up in my face! Why does mom always take their side!? I try to get along with her new partner, but they just never will try with me! AT LEAST I’M TRYING TO MAKE FATHER’S DEATH EASY ON HER, SO WHY DO THEY HAVE TO MAKE THINGS SO DIFFICULT!? WHY IS MOM WITH SUCH A JACK ASS!? WHY… why can’t I have my mom back? Why does she have to glom onto that fucking jerk!? Can’t she see they’re just taking advantage of her!? I… why? W-why.” Even as you hugged yourself, leaning forward, he didn’t dare move as you rested your head against his shoulder.

·       Not saying a word you sat up, only now noticing the rain boots that were placed before you. As you placed them on, Gundham closed one of the umbrellas. He stood closely beside you as the pair of you walked along. “… you didn’t have to come.” “I know.” “It must have been a real pain to get up so late.” “It was.” “And to walk all the way out here.” “Jog.” “That’s even worse.” “It certainly was.” “… thank you.” “…” A light pink dusted his cheeks as he took a step closer to you, now shoulder to shoulder. Though exhausted and feeling like you were on the edge of both blowing up and collapsing, the gesture pulled at the corner of your lips, drawing a soft smile from you.

#nekomaru nidai #kazuichi soda #gundham tanaka #nekomaru x reader #kazuichi x reader #gundham x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #danganronpa x reader

[claybefree]

Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again

September Third, Two Thousand and Nine

For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.

I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.

That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.

Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.

We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.

In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.

It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.

Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.

I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.

I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.

Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.

The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.

This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:

Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy

Wanna be the king of the universe

Let`s meet and have a baby now

In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.

The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.

[lumiolivierlithium]

The Good Old Days Chapter Four:  I Quit!

ICYMI:  Chapter Three:  Abuela’s Food Truck

A/N:  Hi, friends!  Here we are.  Another day.  Another week.  Another chapter.  And this one is 100% turning point.  And it’s beautiful.  So, as always...Feedback is appreciated.  A like...A reblog.  Just a little something, something so I know this isn’t a waste of time?  Please?  K, bye! x

Later that night, it was that time again.  Time to walk into the fire.  We could manage.  If all else fails, I’m sure there’s a cool guy willing to buy us drinks again.  But since there’s money in our bank accounts again, we could probably stand to buy our own.  Regardless, it was yet another night at the salt mines.  And a little positivity could go a long way.  If we go into this pissed off and bitter, people are going to pick up on that.  And I don’t need to bring that kind of energy.  I didn’t hate all of the staff.  Most of them weren’t exactly on my good side, but not all of them were terrible.  

 Then, I got to my first table of the night.  And they weren’t assholes.  I’ll take that as a win.  My next table?  Not miserable.  Ok. Things are starting to look up. But then…Toward the end of my shift. There they were.  Again.  They came back.  And they were in my section.  Fan…fucking…Tastic.  Still, I slapped on that fake ass smile they wanted to see.  Because god forbid I come off like I’m pissed off to see them.  Of course not.  Of course I’m happy to see you.  Because you coming in here means I get paid.  That correlation fucking sucked.

 “Oh…” she got one look at me and instantly turned her nose up.  Awesome, “It’s you.”

 “It’s me,” I confirmed, “Welcome back, ma’am.  How may I help you?”

 “Can you find me a new waiter?” she scoffed, “One that’s a little more competent than you?”

 “I am competent, ma’am,” I kept my cool.  Don’t let her piss me off.  Don’t let her piss me off.  Don’t let her piss me off.

 “If last night was any evidence of that,” she rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t say so.  If you were in one of my restaurants, I wouldn’t have hired you in the first place.”

 “I’m sorry.” That you ever crawled out of the primordial ooze, “Now, other than a new waiter, how may I…?”

 “I want a new waiter.”

 Santa Maria, Madre de Dios.  Ruega por nosotros pecadores.  Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerté.  Amén, “You were seated in my section, ma’am.  I’m sorry, but I can’t get you a new waiter.”

 “Then, we’re leaving.” Good fucking riddance.  She says she’s leaving, but she didn’t even move.  I wasn’t stopping her.  If that’s the case, then what the hell was she doing?  Other than terribly bluffing.

 Then, as if the night couldn’t have gone further downhill, my manager came over, “Is there a problem here?”

 “I want a new waiter,” the woman stood her ground, “I don’t care where I’m seated. I want a new waiter.”

 “Of course, ma’am.” Spineless prick, “Frankie, can I see you for a moment?”

 “Sure,” I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I followed him into the kitchen.  Oh, shit.  This can’t be good, “What’s up?”

 “This is the second night in a row I’ve gotten complaints about you.” Taking me over his knee in front of everyone would’ve been less demeaning, “And from the same person!”

 “She’s a prime example of the customer not always being right,” I bit the inside of my cheek in attempts to not blow right the fuck up about her.

 “That’s not part of our job, Frankie,” the manager scolded me, “Our job is to keep them happy and keep them coming back.”

 “It’s not part of our job to become their best friend,” I grumbled.  

 “If it was,” he went on, “I would’ve fired you by now.”

 “Look,” I swallowed my pride, “I need this job.  Don’t let this one customer be the deciding factor.”

 “You got one more chance, Frankie,” he sighed out, “If I hear one more peep out of that woman because of you, you’re on your ass.  I don’t care how bad you need this job.  I want you to buddy up to her like your life depends on it.  Because by the sounds of it, it does.”

 In that moment, I wasn’t sure what snapped in my brain, but when I opened my mouth again, what I intended to say was some sort of empty apology and to go back out there. However, that wasn’t the case, “I quit.”

 “What?”

 “I quit,” I spoke a little firmer.  That felt kind of good.  I untied my apron and dropped it in his hand, “I fucking quit.”

 “I thought you said you needed this job.”

 “I thought I did,” I beamed, “But I don’t.  It sounds like you need me more than I need you.  I fucking quit!  I don’t have to stay and deal with this bullshit anymore.  Fuck her.  Fuck you. Fuck everyone here I don’t share blood with.  Later, bitches!”

 And just like that, I walked out.  I was done. My last shift was over.  And I was done.  I had a feeling that if I were to come within a hundred feet of this place ever again, it’s going to be a police escort off the property.  I didn’t care anymore.  I was done.  I didn’t have to deal with the bullshit anymore.  I was free.  When I slipped into the alley to wait for César and Tony to finish up for the night, I put a quarter in the payphone outside and pulled out that business card.

 “Hello?”

 “You gave me your number, Old Man,” I couldn’t wipe the fucking smile off my face if I wanted to, “The least I could do is call, so you’re not waiting for the phone to ring.”

 “Frankie!” he chimed on the other end.  Oh, that just put a good feeling back in my heart.  The only thing that would make it any better would be if Abuela’s truck came by. But this would do, “How you doing, kid?”

 “I’m in,” I told him, “I’m so fucking in.”

 The other end was quiet for a minute.  Ok…Good feeling slowly going away.  Say something, Old Man.  You told me to call you when I was ready.  Just fucking say something, “And your brothers?”

 “Not sure about them yet,” I admitted, “But I know I’m in.  And…Uh…Before I’m completely in…”

 “What is it, Frankie?” he worried, “Everything alright?”

 “Everything’s fine,” I wasn’t sure how true that statement was.  I did just quit my job.  Out of pure anger and a snap decision.  But I also had this in my back pocket, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

 “Can’t say I am,” the Old Man told me, “Why?”

 “My…” This was going to sound so stupid.  But whatever it takes, “My mother wants to have you over for dinner.”

 “That’s not a problem,” he allowed, “What time should I be there?”

 Holy shit. I wasn’t expecting that to go over so well, “Uh…Eight o’clock?”

 “I can do eight o’clock,” the Old Man confirmed, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

 “Ok,” I nodded, “See you tomorrow night.”

 Slowly, but surely, I hung up the phone.  What the fuck just happened?  Hold on, Frankie.  Back track here.  One minute, you were dealing with the woman with the stick in her ass.  She wanted a new waiter and you weren’t having it. Mostly just to piss her off because you’re occasionally petty.  Then, your manager pissed you off even more.  You quit your job because of you being pissed off.  You called the Old Man.  And…Now, you’re having dinner with him and Mama tomorrow night.  My head hurts.  I needed painkillers.  And a lot of them.  We’ll start with aspirin and work our way up to morphine.

 “Hey, Frankie?” César came out first, “You alright, hermanito?  You seem like you’re about to kill someone.  Or like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 “A little bit of both actually,” I sat on the back steps, “Watch your asses in there. I just quit.”

 “Are you serious?” he gasped, “Frankie, why would you do that?”

 “I wasn’t dealing with it anymore,” I did all I could to keep myself from crying, “Fuck this place, César.  I’d love nothing more than to watch it burn to the ground, but I don’t have to deal with it anymore.  It was either I quit or I get fired because of the same woman that was trying to get me fired last night.  And I’ll be damned if I let her get the satisfaction.  I called the Old Man.  Everything should be fine.  He’s coming for dinner tomorrow night.”

 “So Mama can meet him,” César figured, “Did you tell him you’d take the job?”

 “I don’t have much of a choice now,” I shrugged, “It’s either unemployment or employment.  I don’t know about you, but I got a good feeling about taking the job with the Old Man.”

 “We’ll see what Mama has to say about him.”

 “The hell are you two doing out here?” Tony joined us, throwing on his jacket.

 “Waiting on your slow ass to get out here,” I jabbed.

 “Are you alright, Frankie?” he wondered, “I heard people say you were blowing up on the manager and that you walked out.”

 “I quit,” I filled him in, “I got something better lined up anyway.”

 “The Old Man?”

 “Hope so.”

 Just like any other night, the three of us hopped the subway and headed home.  I’m not going to miss this.  Not in the least bit.  If the Old Man lets me work in the Narrows, I’d be spitting distance from home. No more subways.  No more buses.  No more public transit.  I wonder if the Old Man would let me take his town car every now and then.  That’d be pretty cool, too.  Now, I just needed to tell Mama we were having company tomorrow night.  

 “Mama?” I went in first and did a quick look around, “We’re home.  And on time.”

 “Welcome home, mijos,” Mama greeted us from the living room, “Cómo te fué en el trabajo?”

 “Long,” Tony threw himself into the armchair.

 “Tiring,” César took the other end of the couch.

 “It’s funny you ask, Mama,” I bit the inside of my cheek, “Do you remember me telling you about the man from the restaurant?  The one we had drinks with last night that wanted to help us?”

 “Si.”

 “I talked to him tonight,” I went on, “Is it alright that he’s coming for dinner tomorrow night?”

 “That’s fine,” she allowed, “I’m glad you took my advice, Francisco.  I’m glad one of you listen to me.”

 “We listen to you, too, Mama!” Tony whined.

 “Antonio,” Mama hushed him, “I know you do.  But sometimes, tu hermanito listens a little better.  Isn’t that right, mijo?”

 “I do what I can,” I kissed her cheek, “I’m going to head to bed, ok, Mama?”

 “Ok,” her hand immediately went to my forehead, “You’re not getting sick, are you, Francisco?”

 “I’m alright,” I assured her.  I knew better than to tell her not to worry.  She’d beat me senseless for saying something so stupid.  But I digress, “Good night.”

 “Good night…”

 Today really did kick my ass.  And it went by in a blur.  I still had a hard time believing I quit the restaurant.  I didn’t realize it’d be that easy.  Fortunately, I had something else lined up.  As long as Mama liked the Old Man, I’d be golden.  If she didn’t…Well…What Mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?  And as long as he came through on our deal.  Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.  So, I shut my eyes and hoped for the best.

 The next morning, I got up bright and early.  I knew Mama would be up, too.  She didn’t have to work today, so we had all day to do as we pleased. Although, I knew I’d have to break the news that I don’t have a job anymore to her eventually today.  She’ll start to wonder why Tony and César are going to work, but I’m sticking around home.  There’s no way I took tonight off just because the Old Man was coming to dinner. She might kill me for it, but I’m sure the new job will be much better than the old one.

 I looked over at my brothers’ beds and sure enough, they were still sleeping like babies. Aww…Every part of me was wanting to wake their asses up, but they had a long shift to put in tonight without me. Instead, I covered them both up a little better and quietly closed the door on my way out.  And they seem to think I’m the one that needs to be looked after.  Sometimes, I do, but nine times out of ten, these two would both be dead without me. I seem to remember a time when I had to stop Tony from walking into oncoming traffic.  Regardless, I walked into the kitchen and found Mama already at the stove.  I love her.

 “Buenos dias, Mama,” I kissed her cheek and got the coffee pot going.  

 “Buenos dias,” she gasped, “You’re up early, Francisco.  I would’ve thought you’d sleep until at least noon.”

 “Guess I’m just up early,” I shrugged, peeking over her shoulder, “What do you have going on?”

 “You said we were expecting company tonight,” Mama reminded me, “I thought I’d get an early start.”

 “You wouldn’t want a little help, would you?” I offered.  It didn’t matter what age I was.  Cooking was one of those things that always came naturally to me. Why?  I don’t know.  But I didn’t care.  Because I could still cook like a dream.  That’s something that would never go away.  And Mama knew that.

 “I’d love a little help,” she allowed, “While you and your brothers were shopping yesterday, I should’ve had you get some rice.  We’re completely out.”

 “Really?” That never happened.  Ever.

 “Nothing,” Mama showed me the end of the big ass bag of rice.  With no rice in it.

 “I’ll go get you some, if you need it.”

 “No, no,” she stopped me, “I’ll go get.  You stay here and keep an eye on things.  Make sure nothing burns.”

 “Got it,” I let her go off to the store and stayed behind to watch all the pots boil. Oh, Mama…You overdid.  I mean, I understand you want to go all out with your cooking when we have people coming over, but you didn’t need to go this hard. Bless this woman.  May no misfortune ever befall her.

 By the looks of it, she’s got churro dough started.  Muy bien, Mama.  Muchas gracias.  I know what I’m having for breakfast.  All it needed was to be piped.  The oil was hot enough.  Why not? I scooped the dough into a piping bag and started squeezing the dough into the oil.  Sweet Jesus…There were few things as satisfying as the first churro in the oil.  And Mama’s churros rarely disappointed.  She had something secret in the dough and she’d take that secret to the grave with her. Even I didn’t know it and I knew all of Mama’s cooking tricks.  Her churro recipe, though?  Way too coveted.

 “Buenos dias, hermanito,” César stumbled into the kitchen, still half asleep and admiring the small accumulation of churros cooling off to the side, “Hell yeah, Mama made churros.”

 Just as he went to reach for one, I immediately slapped the back of his hand, “No.”

 “Ow!” he nursed his hand, “What the fuck, Frankie?  You still have a whole fucking bag of dough yet.”

 “You know damn well Mama knows exactly how many this dough is going to make,” I shoved my finger in his face, “If one goes missing, she’s going to be pissed.  Do you want to throw off Mama’s rhythm?”

 “God no…”

 “Alright then,” I went back to making churros, “Besides, those are still probably pretty hot.  They just came out of the oil a couple minutes ago.”

 “Speaking of Mama,” César sat down at the kitchen table, “Where is she?  There’s no way in hell she’s still in bed.”

 “She had to make a grocery store run,” I told him, “Apparently, we were out of rice and no one knew it, so she went to get some.”

 “Oh, I can’t wait to come home from work tonight,” César swooned, “The best part about us having company.  Mama cooks. And cooks more than what the four of us could possibly eat.  We eat like kings for the next week.”

 “Or your lazy ass learns to cook,” I teased him a bit.

 “Why would I do that,” he retaliated, “when you’d do all the cooking for me anyway?”

 “Because you wouldn’t do it right,” I rolled my eyes.  Both Mama and I had a thing when it came to the kitchen.  No one dares use it other than us, “I wouldn’t trust you ten feet in front of a microwave, let alone actually attempt cooking.”

 “Thanks, Frankie,” César made his coffee, “Love you, too.”

 “If I didn’t love you,” I argued, “Would I be doing this?  Would I have beaten you for the sake of you not burning yourself on churros?”

 “Valid point,” he gave me an appreciative nod.

 “Good morning…” And there’s the other one.  I was wondering how long it would take them to wake up once Mama started cooking.

 “Morning, Tony,” I grabbed a cup for him from the cabinet and handed it off.

 “Bless you.”

 “I do what I can,” I went back to the churros on the stove.  Mama always said to keep cooking them until they float.  Then, take them out of the oil.

 Oh, tonight was going to be a night.  I could feel it already.  My bones wouldn’t lie to me.

#The Good Old Days #fan fiction #fan fiction prequel #mafia au #switch #for the family #OC backstory

[dreaming-gamer]

Magic Touch – Nero X V Chapter 4

Firefighter Nero x Massage Therapist V

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story! 💜💜💜 I'm sorry this chapter took so long to finish, but it's longer than usual! I hope you enjoy! 😀😀😀

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Nero could admit he struggled to not gaze out his window, just to check the process of V’s move for the rest of the day. Whenever he realized his gaze had stuck on the moving truck, or just straight over to the other apartment, he tried to keep busy for a bit. Cleaning up his own apartment was an efficient way to get rid of some energy because hey, even though he hadn’t gotten V’s number this time either, at least they were actual neighbors! That was still something to be happy, not to mention feel hopeful about. When the apartment looked great, he sat down on the couch, trying to occupy his mind with checking the TV.

The distance between his and V’s new home was too far for Nero to really see what was going within the apartment but dammit if his curiosity didn’t make him try, even from the couch. But when sight didn’t help, he turned to imagination.

And when he had been imagining for long enough, at least until he realized that an episode of the current show Nico had ordered him to try watching, Once Upon a Time, had passed with him having no memories of what happened in it, he abruptly tried to stop. Not watching the show, that felt like something Kyrie would enjoy, rather than Nico that was usually so much more into sci-fi shows, but thinking about V.

Or at least trying to stop. The gears in his mind seemed determined to spin in only one direction, producing more thoughts about V.

Nero’s gaze went one more time toward the window and he groaned, stretching himself out further on the soft couch. With a jab at the remote, he paused the show and let his thoughts be heard. Maybe he could head over, just ask how the move was going? But V was probably too busy focusing on his new home to want to see Nero. Or maybe he’d be happy for the distraction? Maybe he wouldn’t mind Nero’s help?

But then again, V already had the help of the moving company to get his furniture in place… maybe Nero was just better off praying for them to meet in the door or something soon, but he had no clue how V’s schedule looked or anything and he still didn’t have that stupid number dammit—

A simple guitar riff, only a few notes, made him aware of a new message from none other than Nico. Stretching his arm toward the living room table, Nero grabbed his phone, unlocked it and swiped the screen once, revealing the message in its entirety. Not that the content made him any wiser.

“Alright, ya can thank me now.” That was all it said, together with a ton of emojis, including a satisfied devil emoji. Nico had cackled at him, through text, when he had revealed that V’s number had escaped him, yet again, but then she had gotten back to work. Rather than trying to figure out whatever crazy plot or invention she had come up with now, he found it easier to cut to the chase:

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Nero sent back, checking what time it was. 16:42, meaning work was almost over for her, of course that meant she’d start texting again. It took mere moments for him to get the next message.

“Your mysterious massage therapist friend called a while ago! He’s coming around to pick up the car tomorrow instead so I’m giving you a heads up!” More emojis before the message continued. “But that’s not even the best part!”

Nero waited, for about a minute or two for the continuation, but there was none. With quick thumbs, he tapped a reply. The heads up was certainly a ticket for him to once again try to get V’s number… but what else had she planned?

“Don’t leave me hanging! What’s the best part?”

“He asked if there was any way to rent a car trailer, says there’s something he needs to pick up. I asked what and he said bookshelves! Big ones!”

“How’s that the best part? Not following, Nico!”

“Duh! Ya don’t got work tomorrow, right? I told ‘im there’s one in the back that Dante’s not using. And that ya can help him out!”

Nero stared at the screen. Was she serious? His heart sped up from the feeling of hope.

“What did he say?!” Had V accepted the suggestion?

“I think ya might have a shot here Romeo, cuz he said yes, if yer fine with it. Took the liberty to say yeah for ya, so ya better holler yourself over here tomorrow at 4 in the afternoon, sharp!”

“Got it, will be there!” Nero hadn’t really asked for this favor but… it was nice of her to arrange it. “Thanks, I owe ya.”

“Music to ma ears!” Lots of emojis followed. “I’ll call in the favor when needed.” The mischievous emoji that followed made him think that she might have watched the show just a little too much recently.

“I took a break from watching. And I can get you an iced latte tomorrow.”

“That’s what I wanna hear! Make it extra strong and ask for some cream on top!”

Nero shook his head with a grin, Nico was the same as ever and while he wouldn’t admit it to her face, he loved her for it.

“Roger that.”

***

Nero felt like giving a shout of victory when the clock finally closed in on 4 ‘o clock. Anticipation had kept him checking the time way too often during the day, only to find that not as much time as he had hoped had passed, every check. But now, with half an hour to spare, he was ready, dressed in a chill hoodie with short sleeves and a new pair of shorts as he descended the steps. Maybe he should knock on V’s door and ask if he wanted to walk together to the garage, or he could simply walk ahead and meet V there…

Nero’s thoughts were cut short as V emerged from his new apartment building, wearing a cotton shirt, with only a few of the buttons buttoned over a black t-shirt with no print, and black trousers. The massage therapist seemed to notice him immediately, meeting him without a cane in his hands today.

“Good afternoon, Nero.” His voice was deep, smooth and accompanied by that smirk that made the butterflies in Nero’s stomach return full force.

“Hey.” Nero grinned back. “Heard from Nico you need some help. What was it, picking up bookshelves?”

V’s smirk remained and he gave a little nod.

“That is correct. She offered your assistance, with the words that you don’t have work today.”

“Well, she was right. Just promised her to get an iced latte before showing up at the garage, you fine with making that small detour?”

“No problem at all.” V claimed as they started to walk to their destination.

“So how’s it going, settling in and all?” Nero was looking forward to seeing a glimpse of how V’s apartment could look, even if it was probably a bit messy still.

“The furniture is all in place thankfully. I do admit that the unpacking of the boxes has not been as… swift as I would have liked. I had to leave for work, just after the moving company left yesterday.”

“Whoa, were you okay getting there without your car?” Nero wondered, there weren’t that many buses that passed by V’s working place, from what he knew.

“Let’s just say I arrived… a while before my assigned time, courtesy to the bus.” V smirked.

“Man, if I’d known, I’d have given you a ride again.” The words slipped out of Nero’s mouth before he even had time to think about them. “Didn’t have work yesterday.”

“I see. Thank you, for the offer.”

In his peripheral vision, Nero noticed that devilish smirk soften a bit. The butterflies in his stomach flew around with greater force.

“No need to thank me when the offer’s a bit too late!” He pointed out, one hand scratching the back of his head.

“Hm. I’d say that it’s the thought that counts.” V replied, just as they arrived at the café.

"You want anything?" Nero offered, he didn't need anything for himself, but it was a hot day.

"I'm fine, thank you." While Nero went inside, meeting the pleasant chill of an aircon, V waited outside on a bench in the shade. With V's sort of pale complexion, Nero had a feeling the sun could be an enemy. It didn’t take long for Nero to appear again, holding the iced latte, custom made after Nico's preferences.

Had Nero been the one waiting on that bench, he knew he would have had his focus on some silly mobile game or something. But V? His eyes seemed glued to the pages of a leatherbound book, with an emblazoned V on the cover.

"That's how you got your nick?" Nero joked with a nod to the book.

V chuckled.

"I admit it is my favorite… But that is not the case. It's the fifth edition." He replied, standing up. As V left the shade, Nero could see hints of dark bags under V’s eyes.

“Of what? Poetry?” Nero guessed, did novels even get published in five editions?

“Correct.” V smirked. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” Nero nodded, matching the massage therapist’s stride while holding back a comment to ask if V had been sleeping too little. There was a slight slouch to V’s shoulders too, Nero noted.

The last of the walk didn’t take them long, the iced latte in Nero’s hand still cold when they stepped into the garage, Nico greeting them with a grin.

“Hiya! Yer beauty is all ready, attached the car trailer for ya!” She proclaimed, handing the car keys to V.

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear it. I shall return it tomorrow.” V took the keys with a polite smile.

“Great! There’s just the little extra payment for renting that, so let’s get it outta the way huh?” Nico showed the way towards the office, grabbing the iced latte from Nero with a wink and a grin. V followed her, while Nero remained, glancing at V’s car. It did look better than it had when it had been standing by the road, dripping oil a few days ago. And now, they were neighbors. Actual neighbors. Nero sometimes felt like he needed to pinch himself to be sure this wasn’t a dream...

It didn’t take long for Nico and V to return, the massage therapist giving Nero a smile.

“Are we ready then?”

Nico grinned knowingly at Nero from behind V, giving him a knowing grin as if to say: “Oh, I think yer ready alright.”

Nero had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at her, because V wasn’t aware of what was happening behind his back.

“Yeah, ready when you are. Let’s go. See you around, Nico.”

“See ya!” The mechanic grinned at them and opened up the garage gate for them, while the guys got into the car. Inside, the car seemed very clean, mostly because there wasn’t a lot of things in it. Nero only spotted a pair of sunglasses, close to the gear lever. The seats were old, like the rest of the car, but clean and comfortable. Upon starting, the engine sounds were surprisingly pleasant, not really rumbling, but rather a soft purring.

Nero waved at Nico as they passed the garage gate, just as she pulled out a cigarette to smoke. V’s driving was calm and steady.

“I’m grateful you agreed to help me with this, Nero.” The massage therapist admitted softly.

“Hey, no worries. Are we heading for the furniture store?”

“Not exactly, I found an advertisement.” V replied. “As long as you pick the bookshelves up yourself, they are completely free. The lady that posted the offer is apparently moving to a much smaller space, and will have no room for them.”

“Sounds like a great deal to me.” Nero grinned, and honestly, with V’s arms so twiggy… he could imagine why he needed some help.

When they arrived and he got to see the size of the two bookshelves himself, he was definitely glad he’d accompanied V. The bookshelves looked nice, he could admit, but they were two meters tall and made of rather heavy wood. With his regular training as a firefighter, Nero wasn’t worried for himself, but could V take it..?

He got his answer pretty quickly, since they had to cooperate to get the bookshelves onto the car trailer and Nero’s uncertainty must have shown, because V sent him a smirk when they grabbed a hold of a side each.

“I am not so frail Nero, remember?”

“Right, sorry.” The tips of Nero’s ears burned, he remembered very well how V had proved the strength, or perhaps rather technique he had, despite his lean frame. Both of them giving a nod, they started to carry the first shelf between them. It was heavy, but Nero’s grip was firm and he walked slowly to make sure V could keep up. With just one verbal confirmation that everything was going alright on both sides, they soon loaded the first shelf onto the car trailer and their cooperation went just as seamlessly with the second one.

“Well, that went great!” Nero grinned, tightening the last strap around the furniture before they could go and he was delighted to see V smirk back at him.

“Indeed. Let us hope it will go as smoothly, transporting them up three floors.”

Nero couldn’t lie, it sounded heavy. But it also meant he’d see a glimpse of V’s new apartment.

“Don’t worry, we got this.” His grin widened at the amused grin in V’s eyes.

***

“You… have been a great help.” Nero turned to find V smiling at him.

The apartment was still rather chaotic, consisting of two rooms. Taped boxes were still stacked here and there but from the furniture, most of it in wooden, natural colors, that was already in place, the apartment seemed nice. The smaller room contained the bed and now, the two bookshelves against the opposite wall.

“Told you we got this. No need to thank me.” Nero grinned.

Nero wondered how many bookshelves one person could need, because he counted four big ones, so far, compared to the single one in his own home. And he had lost count of how many of the boxes had “books” written on them.

“I would still like to. Would you like to stay for dinner? If you do not mind takeout? My treat.” V suggested.

Nero’s heart did a small, happy jump in his chest.

“Sounds great, I’m craving some good Chinese.”

V chuckled.

“Then perhaps you have a good recommendation?” He asked, tilting his head ever so slightly, with that charming little smirk on his lips.

“You bet I do.”

***

“I am honestly surprised you could eat that.” V looked at him curiously, when Nero finished his takeout dish of hot noodles, the sauce spicy and a bit sweet due to the touch of peanut. V’s vegetable wok looked really tasty too, but he was eating much slower than Nero.

“It’s not that spicy, just a pleasant tingle on my lips.”

“I would most likely find that too much. I do not eat spicy dishes very often.” V admitted, putting down his finished box on the round living room table before leaning back into the couch.

After all the unpacking, there seemed to be a slight slouch to V’s shoulders, even though he was sitting down to relax. It had been a nice experience, eating takeout by someone else’s living room table for once. Since Nero broke up with Kyrie, it hadn’t really been a common occurence to eat with someone else.

“You know, I could massage you?” The words stumbled out of Nero’s mouth before he had time to think about them.

V’s eyes widened.

“Pardon?”

“You look like your shoulders could need it. Come on, I can at least try, right?” Nero pressed, hoping the grin on his face looked as innocent as he wanted it to be.

V’s lips curled into a small smile.

“Very well.” With long fingers, he started to unbutton the soft cotton shirt, as he turned his back to Nero. The intricate patterns of the tattoos on his arms came into view, as he was now wearing only a black t-shirt on his upper body.

“I will tell you if you need to use more… force.” V’s tone was teasing.

Nero snorted, but the sound came out more as a chuckle.

“I apologized, didn’t I? Maybe you should tell me when I need to use less.” Nero set his hands on V’s slim shoulders and started to knead. Careful touches wasn’t his strong suit, but Nero did try to not put too much force into his palms or fingers. V’s skin was so pale under the tattoos, looked like it could bruise from so little, but he didn’t seem to complain yet. Until Nero found a rather big knot and V’s entire being stiffened.

“Sorry, too much?” Nero was about to take his hands off him, but V’s voice made him pause.

“No, if you do not mind… continue. It would help a great deal… to get rid of it.” V sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth.

“You sure?” Nero was doing this to help him relax, not make him stiff with pain!

“It will be worth it. And a knot like this is quite hard to get rid of, on your own.” The massage therapist replied firmly. Nero didn’t find it within himself to refuse, because V looked like he honestly could need it. Especially after the bookshelves they had worked together to carry up the stairs.

“Alright, if you say so…” Nero slowly put his hands more firmly on V’s shoulders, closing in on the knot and started to knead at it a bit more gently. He shifted between using his fingers and his palms, took note of when V seemed to be pained, or when he was fine. V gave him some pointers that made it easier to focus. Heat engulfed Nero’s fingers, not just from the massage he was giving, but also from how V’s pale skin was flushing so red that Nero could feel the heat through the t-shirt.

When Nero felt the knot dissolve a few minutes later, he swore he could both see and feel V’s back sag, a light sigh escaping the therapist’s lips. It wasn’t hard to feel that there were a few more minor knots here and there, but for now, maybe this would have to do. Nero used his fingers and knuckles for some gentle strokes over V’s skin. The massage therapist said nothing, his head sagging a little bit, as if he was collecting himself.

“Hey, lean back a bit.” Nero suggested, before he gently pulled on V’s shoulders, keeping his grip steady and V didn’t protest, letting himself be guided backwards. He blinked as his head ended up in Nero’s lap, but his eyes remained half-lidded.

“Blood rush to your brain?” Nero guessed with a smile, wow, V’s black hair looked silky, this close.

“Yes, a minor one.” V replied quietly, remaining where he was. Nero noted the dark bags under those beautiful green eyes again and the realization ached in his chest.

“You’re taking care of people for a living, but who’s taking care of you?” The words slipped out without Nero meaning to say them. The move, his work… V seemed to be working himself too hard.

V’s eyes widened, just a tiny bit, as if he clearly was not expecting those words. He opened those plump lips, paused before letting them form a fond smile.

“You need not worry, it is just a stressful period. Once I am more properly settled in, I am sure it will be better.”

“You’re not doing anything relaxing each week, are you?” Nero tried to keep his voice light and casual, but he found himself unwilling to let the subject go, just yet.

V chuckled, a light hint of tiredness in the sound.

“Are you using the words of my profession against me?”

“It seems like I need to.” Nero pointed out, then he puckered his lips in a rather humorous manner.

“One relaxing activity per week, like a bath… or a swim. Or if you find it relaxing, a massage.” He made sure to make his voice sound deliberate and deep, but in a completely over the top way.

Another chuckle left V, sounding close to a laugh.

“I do not sound like that. Nor do I look like that.”

“You do.” Nero grinned, still using his makeshift voice.

V stilled his next chuckle and locked eyes with him.

“Then, are you offering?” The smirk that grew on his face gave Nero’s good shivers down his back. Until he realized his mind had ground to a halt. Had he heard that right? V just watched him and Nero wasn’t sure what was on offer here.

“Huh?”

“To remind me, once per week. We will be living… close to each other now so perhaps… we can remind each other? Once per week, to do something relaxing.” V explained smoothly, observing his confusion, while Nero was still processing what he had heard. It sounded like he was dreaming.

Something forlorn came over V’s green eyes and he averted his gaze, but the smirk remained. “Pardon if my suggestion does not sit well with you, never mind it--”

“Sure.” The word stumbled out of Nero’s mouth, but he had never felt more sure about anything before. Whatever those moments would include just a massage or two, or a small talk or maybe… maybe a date, he didn’t know but either way, he was all for reminding V to relax, at least once a week. “Definitely, I’m in. It’s a good plan.” He quickly added, almost rambling. His heart skipped a beat when V’s smirk softened into a smile, his green eyes lighting up with mirth.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He replied softly, slowly straightening up from Nero’s lap, the slouch to his shoulders less noticeable.

Nero was watching him and V was observing him in turn. The living room was still filled with a few boxes, the smell of Chinese food in the air. Nero couldn’t help it, his eyes went to those plump, attractive lips.

V seemed to notice, as he chuckled. The flushed skin on his neck and shoulders wa returning to its original color. Tattoos peeked out under his t-shirt, just a few lines on his throat and Nero wondered again, how much they must have hurt to make.

Nero felt a shiver down his spine as V’s long, slightly cool fingers cupped his warm cheek.

This was happening. His heart beat like crazy as he leaned in, feeling V’s warm exhale on his lips…

And V’s phone rang.

He didn’t miss the flash of defeat in V’s eyes. Nero’s hand reached for V’s cheek, about to silently ask him to ignore it, just for now.

“Pardon me.” V said quietly, pulling away as he stood up, moved to collect his phone on the kitchen counter. Nero lowered his hand, along with the stone forming in his stomach.

“Yes?”

What followed was conversation that Nero barely caught, because he sank into the couch with a huge sigh. His heart still beat hard, like a drum at a festival. It had been so close! And V seemed occupied with whatever the call was about, in the kitchen.

Was the moment stolen? Gone? Would they continue when V returned? Nero felt himself gripping one of the soft cushions V had placed on the couch earlier, he really didn’t know what to do with his hands, or himself.

“I beg your pardon, I am a bit preoccupied at this… yes, yes… Is there truly no one else that can…?” A pause, a soft inhale of breath. “Very well, I understand. I will arrive shortly.” Nero didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but his stomach dropped at the words. It felt like V’s chance for relaxation tonight was slipping out of his fingers.

The apologetic look on V’s face as he returned, confirmed his suspicions.

“I apologize, but I appear to be urgently needed elsewhere.”

Nero gave a small nod, holding in the disappointment that created a small twinge in his chest. V looked bothered, so Nero pushed it down, for now.

“Everything alright?”

“I am part of a… association for literature lovers, I suppose you could call it. We are but a group of individuals that sometime gather for discussions about various pieces of literature. We sometimes attempt to arrange various activities, such as book fairs.” V explained, seemingly checking his schedule in a leather bound calendar. There was no sound of a sigh on his lips, but it could be seen in how his shoulders seemed to tense, again.

“We are meant to host a public poetry reading, pretty soon. I have been asked to help arrange it, as well as participating. Now, we have encountered some unforeseen difficulties and my presence has been requested to solve it.” V looked up again, lips slightly parted. The mirth in his eyes from earlier seemed replaced by determined calculation.

Nero felt his heart sink, for two reasons. The moment was completely gone with the wind, or rather the tones of a cellphone signal. And V was probably not going to relax anymore tonight.

“I truly apologize, Nero.” V said, his tone quiet. “I’m afraid I must be going.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nero assured quickly. Sure, he was disappointed that this was cut short, but it seemed to be for something really important for V. Poetry seemed to be so close to his heart. Nero didn’t want to stand in the way for that, he rose from the couch easily. “It’s fine, really. We can just do this… some other time?” There was a small hope in his voice, he couldn’t help it.

V smiled, his gaze softening a bit.

“Yes, I would like that. Let’s remind each other, once per week.”

“Once a week.” Nero agreed, as V followed him to the door of the apartment where half of the things still needed to be put in order. “You taking the car?”

“No, it is within walking distance.” Nero opened his mouth, about to offer to walk with him, but slowly closed it again. Perhaps V needed time to think, he didn’t want to act stubborn. Silence drifted between them, broken only by their steps down the stairs.

“Oh, and Nero?” V said as they stepped outside his apartment building, about to separate. “Thank you for the wonderful massage.”

Nero felt his cheeks, as well as the tips of his ears blush red at the compliment, especially since that smirk was in place again. V chuckled as he held his cane in a sure grip.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, later!” The heat in Nero’s cheeks didn’t lessen as he watched V go. A massage therapist, a poet. A man with a determined gaze and a new apartment, suddenly living right across the street from Nero’s.

He walked into his own apartment, touching his lips lightly, feeling those damn butterflies flutter around in his stomach again. It had been so close and yet so far. But they had made a promise now, there was hope. And Nero had a plan, he’d just go get some paper from his apartment…

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Tagging: @la-vita and @thedyingmoon 💜💜💜

#devil may cry fanfiction #devil may cry #nero #v #nero x v #magic touch #chapter 4 #au #my fic #my writing #dmc5 nero #dmc5 v

[justlookfrightened]

Second Zimbits bingo post #3

Read from the beginning 

“Let me make it up to you”

Jack heard the bell on the door jingle, then Shitty’s voice boom “Lardo!”

He tried to focus on his orders instead of listening to hear if Eric had come back. By the relative silence, he kind of thought Eric was there. With the shop in its mid-morning lull and no one to disturb, Shitty would usually be far louder.

And when he called, he said his plan was to bring Eric with him.

“He made you a pie, man,” Shitty had said in a stage whisper. “Who is this guy? He just showed up and started baking. Good shit, too.”

“Baking?” Jack said. “I looked in on him before I left and he was sound asleep. There didn’t seem to be any reason to wake him. He looked spent last night.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Not like that, Shits,” Jack said. “He was cold and wet and tired, and he didn’t have a place to stay.”

“So he batted his big brown eyes at you and said, ‘Take me home, Mr. Zimmermann?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Jack said. “I just couldn’t send him back out in the snow, okay?”

“Well, lucky for you he doesn’t seem to be an ax murderer,” Shitty said. “He made muffins for breakfast in addition to the pie. Ransom and Holster might be in love. I’ll bring him with me when I come.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jack said, suddenly flustered. He hadn’t expected to see Eric any more. “Just take him to the train. That’s where he wanted to go.”

“No can do, Jackaroo,” Shitty said. “He made you a pie. He should bring it to you. Besides, I want to see Lardo before I head to Cambridge.”

But Eric might have handed the pie to Shitty and made his own way to the train. There was no reason he had to come back to Jack’s shop. 

On balance, it would be better if he didn’t. Eric said last night he wanted to be on his way this morning. He didn’t seem to know anyone or have anything to do in Samwell; if Shitty brought, would he end up just sitting in the shop all day, making faces at the food?

Not that Jack didn’t  want Eric to come back. He’d been polite and appreciative last night, despite his obvious misgivings about the scone, and he must have more than paid for his keep with cleaning alone if he made breakfast in the Haus kitchen.

And after seeing the muffins delivered from the catering bakery this morning, well, Jack couldn’t blame Eric if he made a face.

Jack closed his laptop and went to peer through the door. Yes, Eric was there, talking to Lardo. He seemed to be standing a little far away from Shitty, though.

Jack pushed the door open to see what was going on.

“Nice to meet you.” Lardo was saying. “Jack mentioned you this morning, but I don’t  think he expected to see you again.”

“I couldn’t leave without thanking him properly,” Bitty said, nodding at the still-warm pie in his hands.

“Dude, that smells awesome,” Lardo said. “Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee? We got a delivery of muffins, but …”

Eric’s expression clearly said he didn’t think much of them.

“Yeah,” Lardo said. “That pie is almost definitely better.”

“I guarantee it,” Shitty said. “You should have tasted the muffins he made at the Haus this morning.”

“You cooked in that grody kitchen?” Lardo said. ‘Props, man.”

“It’s, uh, not as gross anymore?” Eric said. “I did clean first.”

“Bittle.”

Jack stepped out of the back, stopping behind the counter. 

“I didn’t think you’d still be around. DIdn’t you have a train to catch? Or something?”

Eric shrugged. “Doesn’t matter which train,” he said. “I made this to thank you for your hospitality.”

“You didn’t have to,” Jack said. “It’s not like I went out of my way for you.”

“Still, I wanted to,” Eric said. “So, here. Enjoy. I’ll be on my way.”

That was exactly what Jack wanted. So why did he find himself saying, “Wait. Stay for a cup of coffee at least. I can’t believe you got anything good from the old coffeemaker at the Haus.”

“Well, it is sort of decrepit,” Eric said. “Needs more than a good cleaning, and I don’t think the water ever got hot enough …”

“What’ll it be?” Lardo said. “Cappuccino? Latte? Caffe mocha?”

Eric paused to check out the chalk menu board behind the counter. Today’s offerings were a Rwandan light roast, a Guatemalan dark roast and a Blue Mountain medium roast, plus espresso and cappuccino and all the offerings they could make from those. There was also green tea, chai and black tea, but Bittle probably wouldn’t want those.

“Wow,” Bitty said. “Um. just a regular coffee? I don’t have much money.”

Lardo glanced at Jack before she said, “On the house. You did just bring in a pie.”

“To thank Jack for the coffee last night,” Eric said. “And the room.”

“C’mon, Bitty,” Shitty said. “It’ll give Lardo an opportunity to practice her foam art.”

Shitty turned appealing eyes at Jack.

“Really,” Jack said. “Have some coffee. Sit a while.”

So took the stool nearest the register, the better to chat with Lardo, and Jack found himself finding tasks that kept him mostly in the front.

Jack brought Shitty to the back to help carry plates, and took the opportunity to ask, “What’s his problem with you?”

“I may have ridden him a little hard about being small,: Shitty said. “I wanted to get him to tell me how old he was.”

“How old is he?” Jack asked.

“Twenty, or so he says.” Shitty said. “Went to a couple years of college while he lived at home in Georgia.”

When they brought  the plates, Eric sliced and served the pie.

With Lardo’s quiet questions, Eric told them about leaving Georgia weeks ago, after it became clear that he didn’t belong there. Taking trains and buses from town to town, even an occasional ride in someone’s car or truck if he decided they wouldn’t hurt him.

“That’s risky,” Shitty said.

Eric shrugged and said it had been fine so far. He hadn’t found a place like home yet, but he’d seen some pretty countryside and impressive cities and no one had shoved him into a locker and shut the door laughing about putting people like him where they belonged.

Well, that explained some things.

The shop was still quiet; Jack and Lardo had served a couple of customers while Bitty told his story, but for now it was just  the four of them, and it was silent.

“People like what?” Lardo finally said.

“They thought I was … gay,” Eric  finally said. “Always did, since I was a little boy, what with the baking, and I figure skated before I played hockey, so I must be gay.”

“That sucks,” Lardo said. “People making assumptions like that.”

Eric took a deep breath in and released it, then looked around to see if anyone else would hear.

“It’s not like they were wrong,” he said. “About me, I mean, not the stereotypes. And when I told that to Mama and Coach, well .... Coach said he thought maybe I was all right when I started playing hockey. Guess the joke was on him.”

Jack snorted.

“Not like you have to be straight to play hockey,” he said.

“DId you play, too?” Eric asked.

Jack nodded. “With Shitty, and Ransom and Holster. And I know for a fact that there are queer players in college, in juniors, even in the NHL.”

“Thanks for trusting us with this moment,” Shitty said solemnly, like it was part of a ceremony. The door dinged as someone new walked in. It was Chad, the sales rep for the catering bakery. He wanted his order for the next month. Before inviting him back to the office, Jack asked, “Where do you plan to go?” You said it didn’t matter which train.”

“I’m counting on fate to take me where I should be, y’know?” Eric said. “I always thought I could make a living baking, but it’s kinda hard to do when you’re always on the move and don’t have access to a kitchen.”

Eric looked at the sad muffins in the display case and shook his head.

“People shouldn’t have to eat things like that,” he said sadly. “It’s just wrong. I thought the scone last night wasn’t right because it was stale and microwaved, but it probably didn’t start out any better than those. And I am grateful, Jack, because I was hungry, and something is better than nothing, but your shop would do better if you had better food.”

“Better food?”  Chad chimed in.

“Yes, wouldn’t you like it if you get something fresh baked?” Eric said. “A muffin that’s moist and tender, or a flaky pastry turnover with fresh fruit?”

“What’s wrong with what’s here?” Chad said. “It’s fine, and the price is right.”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, if you don’t care about flavor or texture,” Eric said. “There’s some pie left. Have a slice. Tell me that isn’t better than those muffins.”

“Uh, Bitty?” Lardo said. “Maybe stop talking.”

“Who is this guy?” Chad asked.

“Just a guest,” Jack said. “Eric, this is Chad. He supplies our baked goods.”

Eric’s face heated.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “To be saying that to you.”

The man shrugged.

“I can’t say I care that much for your opinion,” he said. “As long as Jack here pays for them. I’ll put you down for an extra batch of scones next week, shall I? You can pay in advance.”

‘Fine,” Jack said. “Come around to the office.”

“I can’t believe I did that,” Eric was saying.

“Sorry about  that,” Jack said. “He’s a houseguest who bakes.”

“Well, you know how home bakers are,” Chad said. “No idea of the economics of baking to scale.”

“I don’t really know that many home bakers,” Jack said. “But he does know his food.”

“And you know no one around here can supply you at a better price,” Chad said, “You’re not taking him seriously?”

“Maybe,” Jack said. 

“But you’re keeping your order the same?”

“For now,” Jack said. “Not adding to it.”

He ushered Chad out, then turned to Shitty, who was putting his coat on.

“Listen, I’ve got to get going,” Shitty said. “I have class in a while. Bitty, want me to drop you at the train?”

“Uh, I want to talk to Jack a little more,” Eric said. “You know, apologize, make things right. I can walk. I did it last night in the storm.”

“Suit yourself,” Shitty said. “Lards, see you tonight?”

“Sure thing.”

Once he was gone, Eric turned to Lardo. 

“I thought you guys had all graduated,” he said. 

“He did,” Lardo said. “He’s in law school. Ransom and Holster got jobs, and I’m trying to make it as an artist, while Jack pays me for doing this.”

“So Jack, you bought this place right out of school?”

Jack nodded. “My parents helped,” he said. “But I figured I could help out some friends like Lardo, and supplying caffeine to college students didn’t seem like a bad business.

Eric looked at the empty tables.

“We do okay,” Jack said. “Especially in the afternoons.”

“So are you two — or you and Shitty?” Eric said to Lardo, then shookhis head. “Sorry, not my business.”

“Me and Jack? Never,” Lardo said. 

Eric looked a little pink, but he turned to Jack and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you like that.”

“You didn’t know,” Jack said

“But I shouldn’t have been talking down the food you serve, even —”

“Even if it’s true?” Lardo said.

“Anyway, Jack, let me make it up to you. If I can go back to the Haus, I can make you some pastries to sell tomorrow,” he said. 

“To make up for the bad ones?” Jack asked. “Are they really that awful? I guess I don’t really eat sweets, so I didn’t worry much about them.”

“To make up for what I said,” Eric said. “I think I can find my way — I’ll leave them there and you can bring them in tomorrow morning.”

“They’ll never be there when Jack gets home,” Lardo said. “Not if Ransom and Holster get there first.”

“Stay here a while,” Jack said. “I was going to get some food for Lardo and me for lunch, and I’ll get something for you, too. You need to eat more protein.”

“I couldn’t —”

“Yes you could,” Jack said. “Then if you want to look around town, walk around the campus at Samwell a little bit, I’ll run you home before dinner, and you can bake then. I can come back and close. Sound like a plan?”

“It sounds like I’m putting you out, but sure,” Eric said. “If that’s what you want.”

Read the last part

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits bingo #my fic

[slowlycasualtraveler]

7 Trends You May Have Missed About cars Pwllheli

https://media-cldnry.s-nbcnews.com/image/upload/t_fit-760w

Benefits Of Selecting A Private Vehicle Rental Company

Personal Automobile Rental Companies

There are several wonderful advantages related to hiring a rental car from an exclusive car rental business instead of making use of public transport approaches for moving around. Here are some of the reasons you should utilize this alternative over various other ways:

You can have overall control over the automobile

You could be aware of the idea that there are various kinds of autos. This isn't only real yet if we even more discover this principle after that it comes to be a lot more clear to us regarding the numerous distinctions in automobiles and also just how they work as well as what all they do. These might seem like really small details yet they help a whole lot when it involves driving. In the case where you could need to drive across town and even further away from house, having a map or instructions useful helps out a lot. If any type of motorist has an automobile then he would certainly at least know his surroundings well. Nonetheless, those that utilize public transportations know nothing concerning their surrounding which makes them vulnerable to crashes. When it comes to renting out a lorry via a private cars and truck rental company, you reach select the best option for yourself. For example, if you desire something extra unique or glamorous, you can go for it. Furthermore; you would not have to worry about just how secure the course is because the whole process would be dealt with by the company.

You avoid the long lines of buses as well as trains

When it pertains to traveling, the first thing that comes to mind is most likely going to be getting involved in a bus or train station to take a trip back home. Now, visualize going through miles of buses waiting your turn as well as listening to countless announcements informing every person just how much time they have actually left before boarding and also how much money you need to pay. Not to mention, when you ultimately make it inside, you probably won't locate a seat. This is just a normal scenario that everybody faces daily. Envision if you had a private automobile and you were not required to wait in line! What fun that would certainly be right?! We can ensure you that renting a lorry isn't as pricey as it seems to be.

You can save time

Time monitoring abilities aren't our strong suit. So when we consider time management, it generally consists of taking advantage of readily available spare time to make sure that we don't spend way too much time doing worthless things. Leasing an automobile is an excellent instance of being able to take full advantage of time By merely calling a company as well as picking a car, you can save hours of wasting time sitting in a bus or train. An additional benefit of leasing a car is that there are no rules or limitations. Regardless of the length of time the journey is, we can start driving as quickly as we prepare.

You prevent getting lost.

When you plan on traveling somewhere, there are specific things you should bear in mind. For example, you must figure out where you must park, how much time it will certainly require to reach your location, whether it's secure to traverse throughout areas, etc. This action alone is important since you never ever want to risk obtaining stuck somewhere where you don't belong. That said, many people have a tendency to obtain lost when they get out of their familiar surroundings. They typically try to rely upon maps only to Visit this link find that they've gotten themselves right into a bad circumstance. An auto enables its passengers to conveniently navigate with unfamiliar terrain. Rather than losing time seeking signs pointing towards where you require to go.

You save precious time.

On your daily trips, you could need to stop off for fuel, food, remainder, washroom breaks, appointments, and so on. Sometimes, you might need to leave your trip mid-way due to scheduling disputes, unexpected scenarios, or something else completely. If you choose to utilize public transportation, you'll greater than most likely face long lines. Moreover, the chances of experiencing a hold-up are significantly high because many people share the same course. Nonetheless, suppose you had a vehicle? Your trip would be smooth sailing.

Your personal privacy is maintained.

If you do not want anybody to recognize that you are seeing your good friend's residence or maybe going on a business trip, after that why would certainly you enable them to adhere to along with you and even see where you're going when you can hire a personal automobile? Privacy is essential, specifically when it involves individual matters. It makes a lot of feeling to preserve your personal privacy. You are completely capable of driving safely as well as safely to any place you require to go. All that requires to be done is to get a car that provides full privacy. Don't let people attack your area whenever they pick.

[ducklooney]

Problems along the way

Here, I apologize for some of the delays around my fanfiction story because I had issues earlier, and I couldn't even write earlier, but here's to moving on. For those who don't know, this is my fanfiction story related to the Quack Pack and comics related to the world of Donald Duck, which will soon be one crossover that you will just find out if not now, definitely already next week (Unless something bad happens to me, God forbid!). Here are the previous two chapters I wrote for those who are interested (lest I repeat myself like a parrot): https://ducklooney.tumblr.com/post/188288119589/my-first-fanfiction-quack-pack-fanfiction

https://ducklooney.tumblr.com/post/188319084194/problems-at-work

And now the sequel to the story that begins with Donald and Daisy leaving Duckburg for an interesting journey:

Chapter Three

Soon, Donald and Daisy get out of the elevator and in a hurry, as they have to take the road, in quick steps, or running or rushing to their van, which they usually use for their travels around the world when they need someone or some people to interview or shoot animals or people around the world and their trends or customs and not to be listed. Yes, their van remained despite having belonged to Kent Powers earlier and Kent lost that van in one court case earlier, in which Donald took the win, that is, a lawsuit. And so in a hurry they go to the garage, where their van is, however before entering the garage, where there are usually lots of cars, buses, trucks and vans, by chance Donald and Daisy run into two people and they all crash on the floor. After a moment, all four of them stand up and apologize to each other and someone grunted at this: "Please, buddy, be careful where you go and always run into me," said cameraman Stefan Vladuck, who was also a partner in the Donald business, who understood Donald's situation quite well, and both of them did not endure Angus Fangus, with Stefan once on good terms with him. In addition, he is originally from Romania, from Southeast Europe, one can say from the Balkans. "Sorry Stefan, I didn't notice you. I'm in a hurry with Daisy on an important journey," Donald said, feeling he was wrong. "It's okay, buddy," Stefan said. "I understand that you are on the important path and that is why you are in a hurry, but don't worry, I wish you a happy journey, though maybe you shouldn't, given that men do not like when women get some happy greetings, probably because men are superstitious and they think it's an accident, "said Lyla Lay, a beautiful young lady and reporter, partly a TV presenter, who is actually an android from the future, or a robot programmed to be able to feel like any human or duck. Yes, she is also a partner to Donald and Daisy in various media matters. "Thanks Lyla, don't worry, your congratulations and your wishes have not wronged anyone and neither will us, so it's okay," Daisy said kindly. Daisy works a lot with Lyla and hangs out with her and they get along really well, except for some things, which is why Daisy is jealous of her, especially when Lyla is near Donald. "Thank you Daisy and thank you for your understanding," said Lyla, who said this shortly, turning to Donald, "Donald, your Hawaiian shirt looks great. It always looks good to you." "Thanks Lyla," Donald said shyly but with a smile on his face, "There are rarely people who praise what I wear. They always make me wear navy clothes, whether blue or black, with or without a bow." "I understand you. They probably make you because they know you so much about you, the different clothes you wear for them are very foreign and foreign to you. No matter what clothes you wear, it works great for you," Lyla said with a small smile on her face. "Thanks Lyla," Donald said. "Well, let me just say ..." "Donald, say it a second time. Sorry Lyla, we're in a hurry, we have to go. We'll talk a second time. Let's go Donald!", said Daisy seriously first, then a little annoyed at Donald, since she doesn't like when Donald starts talking to Lyla Lay. "Goodbye and I wish you a happy journey!" Lyla said and they moved on. Donald just remained silent as Daisy pushed him to the entrance to the underground garage. When they reached the entrance, they saw that it was full of vehicles there, and Daisy asked Donald: "Do you know where you left our van last time?" "Uh, uh ... I don't know, maybe here." said Donald, pointing his finger toward the end of the garage. "Donald, can you please remember some things when we agreed something and we agreed yesterday? Or if not, better write it down as a reminder. Is that right?" Daisy asked him gravely. "Ah, phooey! Reminders are for the weak, I can remember and show you," Donald said, leading Daisy to find their van together. Since Donald was once forgetful, they searched the van for 20 minutes and were able to find it, and the van was at the exit of the garage. "Uh, ... Donald," Daisy frowned, and Donald just smiled and said, "You know, well, we found her. Now we'll come in, just to find the keys," Donald said, looking for the key in his Hawaiian clothes. but fails to find it. "Where are your keys? They must be somewhere." "They're here with me," Daisy said, holding them in her right hand, "You gave me the keys last week because you thought I'd better keep those keys." "I almost forgot," Donald said, smiling again. "Sorry Daisy. And thank you. Let's get going." "No Donald. I'll do it better," Daisy said, unlocking one of those van keys. They get in the van together, fasten their seat belts, Donald sits behind the wheel, starts the engine and they start traveling together. However, as soon as Donald walks in and out of the garage (the van was at the exit of that garage), he accidentally breaks a ramp, exits the van outside the garage and the building, and before Donald turns into a car accidentally driven by a single crocodile (anthro-crocodile) and who said, "Watch where you're going, you idiot!" "Excuse me," Donald said shyly and took the manual to go back, but when he did, he ran into the car, luckily a little damaged by the other car in which a rhino (anthro-rhino) was riding and who just showed his teeth furiously while Donald watched him through the rearview mirror and Donald watched him totally frightened of sweating. He pushed the van forward slightly and waited for the crowd to pass. When there was room, Donald turned and went on his way. As Donald drove, Daisy sitting next to him said, "Sorry, Donald, for my misbehavior, but I had to, since previous trips, we always start bad because of your unwillingness." "My unwillingness. You mean my bad luck ?!" Donald said. "I don't think your bad luck is in that, because you have good luck, but when something has to be done, you start to make it difficult and do it the wrong way, or you just don't do it and don't listen." but in a quiet voice said Daisy who had taken a map of where she needed to see which way to go to St. Canard. But then, Daisy sighs and changes her feelings toward seriousness and worry, "Don't worry Donald, sorry again, I just want you to listen to her properly." Donald though a little angry, when he noticed Daisy looking at him with her blue eyes, Donald was a little sad and said, "Okay, Daisy, I'll listen to you in the future." "You say that every time. But no matter how much you don't listen to me, I certainly still love you. But to get back to the subject, I spoke to Mr. Ducklair yesterday, and also in the morning today about the road, and Mr. Ducklair said this was urgent task sorry if I had to hurry you up, "Daisy replies. "Daisy, you don't have to apologize to me. And this is how it works for me, away from my boring and hard-working bosses. Only Daisy, to go back to my house and talk to Dickie about babysitting my boys," Donald said, and continued his journey toward to your home. At that moment, Daisy suddenly yells, "Ahhhhhh! Wait, Donald, I remembered it yesterday. Mrs. Beakly called me yesterday to guard her granddaughter Webby in the coming days, since Mrs. Beakly would not be able to guard her because she was going with Scrooge to Scotland on an important journey, and Webby can't go with him, "Daisy said. "And then I should, I have to watch, right ?!" Donald got a little angry. "You don't have to, I'll guard her, and I don't have to. We can leave her with the boys. Besides, she's certainly a little older girl that she doesn't need a nanny, can we?" "No Daisy, it's not. I'm dealing with boys enough that I should now take care of Scrooge's adopted niece, whom Scrooge devotes more to her than to me and my boys. Tell me, should I care for your nieces too?" " "Not Donald. My girls are with my sister, so it's not necessary, and again I can't disappoint Mrs. Beakly and her granddaughter." "Good Daisy, but I don't want her to get in the way of me much. Okay?" "All right, Donny. I'll take care of her." "Just to stop by my house, here's a shortcut," Donald said, and went down a winding road that was quite trucky, and they were jumping in their seats nonstop because of that trucky road. But they managed to get off that truck road and came to a familiar street leading to his house. "Here we are. Daisy, please wait to make sure my boys are guarded and then back on track. OK?" "Okay, Donald," Daisy replies. Donald goes to his house, opens the door (the door was unlocked, since his nephews have his key to his house), enters the hall and calls the phone (he uses a cellphone, but not so successfully, often has trouble using new ones) mobile phone version) to get Dickie Duck, Goldie's granddaughter. Soon she answered him by phone: "Hi, Uncle Donald," Dickie laughed, "it's nice to hear you again. What's new with you?" "Nothing, except I'm on an important path now. Can you keep my boys safe these days since I'm away, please?" Donald asks Dickie with concern. "I'm very sorry, Uncle Donald," Dickie says sadly, otherwise Dickie calls Donald an uncle, even though she's not an uncle, but she loves to be beaten by that name and Dickie continues, "I'd love to, but I can't, I have a lot of work to do. and I need to finish my studies and my master's work soon. I know this time is not appropriate, but I have to finish this as soon as possible. Sorry, uncle Donald, but on the second occasion I'll make it up to you. Don't worry, I'm sure they can do it themselves to take care. Hello and hello to Huey, Dewey and Louie from me. " "I will, Dickie, and say hello to your grandmother for me. Goodbye and good luck with your graduation." "Thank you Uncle Donald, and I will. I convey my greetings to my grandmother. Goodbye and to you, and good luck," said Dickie, and when they finished talking, they both hung up. Donald, as soon as he finishes talking, yells, "Come on, boys. Let's go on a trip!" Donald had no choice, so he had to call them and take them on a trip. "Uncle Donald is calling us! Come on, let's go," Louie said, taking his comics behind. "Now we will too, just to finish the round in the game," replies Dewey, who plays with Huey via a playstation device (video game console) in some games where they both compete every day as to which one is better and in which game. Of course, sometimes Louie competes there, but sometimes he gets bored because he doesn't like to compete for the sake of who's better, and he doesn't like quarreling among his brothers. Louie came downstairs and said to her uncle, "My brothers are up there still competing." Donald understood this as Huey and Dewey wasn't about to go down and decided to go upstairs to pick up the two. He came to their room and watched them play, realized he had to pre-empt them, and sneaked behind them and walked past them, without Huey and Dewey noticing their uncle, Donald went to the socket and turned it off. Suddenly the screen image disappears. "Hey!  I just thought I would beat you to my brother in the car race," Huey said angrily. "You think I beat you," said Dewey. "No more car races on your console for today. Get in the van fast, I have no time for your quarrel!" Donald yells angrily and takes Huey and Dewey behind them, leading them to their van, where Daisy and Louie were already. He locked Donald's door, got into the van where everyone was, and continued on his way, picking up Webby along the way, and then on his winding paths, Donald reached the highway and turned to the direction he was heading toward St. Canard, where one famous hero stood out.

#my fanfiction #fanfiction #quack pack #ducktales #disney duck comics #disney comics #donald duck #daisy duck #stefan vladuck #lyla lay #duck avenger #paperinik #pk #duckburg #dickie duck #huey dewey and louie #dickie #disney ducks #disney duckverse #travel #job #problems along the way #fanfiction story #my fanfiction story #story #donald duck's universe #disney afternoon #disney toons #toon disney

[roswellroamer]

Day 12. February 10, 2020. Te Anau day ride. 155km.

Woke to low 40's and gray which made me question the Carrot and Weather Channel apps which had shown 72° and sunny. But closer inspection revealed a marine type layer probably due to the massive lake's shores which was projected to burn off by 11. The kitchen came stocked with farm fresh eggs, bowl of assorted fruit, milk, butter, juice, yogurts, cereals. We set about making some eggs and toast and then of course after finishing off yesterday's blog we grabbed the two frisbees and the "golf course diagram" and headed out. A half life sized chess board on the sprawling manicured lawn provided the tee for the first hole. All the bikes were truck tires with the hole number painted on the rubber. Got to explore their grounds and have some fun tossing the 'bee. We then got into our GoreTex gear and headed towards Milford Sound after a CalTex has stop in town. Knowing we couldn't get to Milford due to road closures/flooding we were aiming for a swing bridge made of three cables. One for your feet and one for each of your hands that spanned the west branch of the Eglinton River. It was featured in one of the NZ touring books I had bought last summer. We saw that the trail sign to identify the turn off was the Earl Mountain turnoff and headed that way. We wound a bit away from the water and gained some elevation and then came to a construction zone. Not being sure if this was related to the recent flooding we got in mine behind a few cars and waited. Maybe less than ten minutes and the opposing truck, bus and camper passed us then we were allowed to proceed. Usually the 120km up to Milford takes over two hours due to the heavy traffic. Top tourist destination in NZ, one road in and out. Lots of buses and cars jockeying to get parking at the roadside attractions. One huge benefit of having the road closed about 75km ahead was that there was hardly any traffic! Great road and scenery as jagged Teton-esque peaks wound into view between the nearly sheer yet forested canyons as we gained elevation. After passing through a few more, wait, take a wild guess... sheep farms 🐑 we came to a diversion. Funneled into a lane off the road to what appeared to be a toll booth, explained to the gal we were in search of a cable bridge off the Earl Mtn. Trail before the closed section. She allowed us to pass. So far so good.

You can tell when you enter Fiordland NP. Sure, there's a sign off to the left (but placed behind a farmer's field/fence so inaccessible for a reasonable picture). But immediately farmland disappears and you are envelopes in the eery dense tunnel of what seems to be darned close to tropical forest. With the 21 feet of annual rainfall being lush shouldn't be a surprise but the immediate drop off in brightness is dramatic as well. Almost like going in a cave. There are some open "flats" but much of the area along the one road there is heavy forest. The other concern for vehicles but especially bikes involves the encroaching algae/moss on the roads. Two tire tracks are largely clear of it but the center of the lanes and the road as well are mostly a bit greenish with the slippery stuff. Lots of "slippery when wet" signage and it wasn't for the Bon Jovi album. I imagined it could be taxing to stay in the worn and clear tire tracks on one of the 250 rainy days. With clear blue sky and dry along with no traffic, the 55,65 and 75kph turns were superb sweepers and we had a ball carving up that road. One of the stops was at Mirror Lakes. Aptly names and even though a couple of fish had disturbed the surface, the pics are keepers. We rode up into Fiordland a ways and then there was the Earl Mtn. sign. We pulled in to the parking area and saw the line of yellow tape across the entrance to the trail. Also no other vehicles were there. The sign said it was closed and also had a few poison signs around the lot. They described the poison that was dangerous to animals and people to attempt (as is often done here) eradication of a non-native predator. In this case it seemed to be some sort of weasel that was endangering a bird that lived on the ground. We had discussed this cable swing bridge and yellow tape and warnings weren't gonna stop us! We worked around the tape and stepped into a dense forest trail. The first 10 minutes took us along an occasionally muddy trail. Tons of tree roots. Most of the deep mud had sticks or small logs tossed in to provide steps but a few ill advised steps resulted in 6" plunges and lovely boot pulling sucking noises to dislodge my Alpinestar SMX-6 from the muck. Then found my way down a thirty foot hill by treading solely on exposed tree roots from one tree! (Pic above) After that, following the well marked red triangular plastic blazes into the heart of Frodo land, the forest was a magic pliant spongy floor. It took a while to figure out that about 6-8" of moss has somehow grown over a network of interconnected tree roots. When I stepped, the entire ground in a five foot radius would give in and move a bit. It was weird and beautiful. After another 10' we heard the Eglinton River and were blocked by some fallen trees and yellow tape. A work around brought me to the river just above the cable swing bridge. A very large tree had fallen on the bridge from our side and collapsed it. Instead of a V shape, the 3 cables were mostly flat but still spanning the river. Ugh. No go. Managed to work our way with some difficulty through the dense brush to get close enough for a pic on the first rung of the bridge which was also the last possible one to reach due to the tree and damage. Pic above. There was a cute little bird on the ground by the bridge remnants. He seemed happy to see us. Wasn't afraid of people evidently as he strutted about watching us, walking under the branch I was balancing on without flying away. He seemed to enjoy company. Said goodbye to my new friend 🐦 and found the blazes trail which included a half dozen improvised detours to avoid deep muck. Scaled up the root ladder which must have been connected to Eywa as the whole forest seemed a bit magical. 🌳 One couple was following our lead to enter the forbidden enchanted forest as we exited. They were disappointed to hear the wire bridge was out. The entire trail from there is about a three hour hike.

I must comment that tons of serious hikers (trampers in local speak) come here and cover long distances. Temps are good. Views and scenery fantastic. None of those deadly spiders and snakes one may encounter across the Tasman Sea in Oz. I get it, just don't love hiking that much to spend days or weeks doing it. This area shows why Peter Jackson used it for LOTR. Nearly pristine and just overwhelmingly stunning. With boots and Klim pants properly mud coated, we were now sweating quite a bit. In fact while holding my Latitude jacket I believe I finally lost my first set of reading glasses on this ride. I have a couple spares but oh well. Think they fell out as I was scaling some of the hill or tree root sections. 👓 I opened up all the vents on my jacket and pants and started the bike to stand and let the 65° breeze do its job. Turned around a couple kilometers further at Lower Holyford Rd. as the heavy machinery was at work. Estimated repair on the sign said that the road would reopen on Friday, four days from now. We stopped a few times on the way back for scenic spots that were too good to pass by. One of the files above is the .gif of some chopper footage. Stopped to watch him load and fly away with a few tanks of what may have been fuel? Most likely bound for Milford Sound which was still isolated from the rest of the country's road system. On one of the last stops Ted must've not closed his bag since when we pulled into Te Anau town center his right saddlebag/pannier was open! Ba quick inventory revealed his polartec jacket and a plastic bag with a wipe were missing. The chain lube that Kiwi gave us as well as a helmet lock were still in the pannier. Those darned side opening clamshell designs! I said I'd get a table at the Ranch outside and wait for him to hopefully retrieve his stuff. I showed him how to flip up on the iPhone to reveal exactly where that last pic was taken. He was just putting on his helmet when a white car pulls up. A guy walks out and hands him his stuff! So lucky. They are bikers and saw his stuff and followed us into town. Nice. After some thank you a they drove away and the day got even brighter. The Ranch delivered me a couple Cokes and an interesting prawn twist dish. 8 shrimp individually wrapped in a long thin dough sheet and fried so the whole 8" long finger is edible and 3 sauces to dip accompanied the serving. Then a calamari salad. 😊 Back to the homestead for some blogging (so I won't fall asleep tonight trying to get this down) and rest before we scored a reservation at the top place in town. The Redcliff cafe. Ted was here last year and unable to get in! We rode to town and were walking down the street when Ted recognized the Aussies who returned his stuff at lunchtime. We turned around and flagged them down. They were perfectly willing to join us for a thank you beer and had a nice time talking with them. They were riders but here to scatter ashes of a friend up north and had received money and were encouraged to make a great trip out of it. They had been to Burt Munro as well. Our appointed hour arrived and we were seated on the back porch of the Redcliff cafe. A few tables of Americans nearby and some conversation with a California couple by us and an excellent meal. I had a salmon tartare dish followed by venison which was amazing and a date and ice cream dessert which were each remarkable. Redcliff did not disappoint. Probably the biggest culinary splurge of the trip. Even with a couple drinks my total ended up being just over $50 and it would've been 50% more for that same meal at home. Had a great evening and got back to the homestead in dusk around 10. Ready to roll northward tomorrow. 😴

#teanau #newzealand #motoadventure #advrider #fiordland

[twitchesandstitches]

Many years ago, the galaxy of the day had been a slightly different place.

For one thing, it was full of much more murder. Up until about the point that the fleet had arrived and rammed into the local splinters of the Imperial Commonwealth with the same effect as a jet plane dropping into a toy truck, with many more cries along the lines of ‘SCREEEEW YOU’.

Grimlock stood in the midst of a large street, his huge and powerfully built exoskeleton venting steam as he contemplated it all in grave thought. About him, all the buildings were variously on fire, hollowed out, or crumbling to pieces. He had not done that, nor had the fleet. It had been like that before they got there, to end the killing.

The Commonwealth was responsible for the bodies piled up and burned. Small signs indicated the crimes. He’d paid little attention to them; the dead were what mattered, not the reasons the Commonwealth decided they deserved to die. Most of them were human.

They were butchering their own people. For ideological bullshit. It reminded him too much of being young, and the sounds of screaming beneath shiny streets, and perhaps that was one reason why he did what he did that day.

He turned towards the street, against the Imperial Commonwealth armies still fulfilling their commands - riding on their jet chariots and their servants desperately powering it with their very lives, disembodied stone faces flying at him and firing off telekinetic blasts to rend the air, and the infantry to die in their droves, and he thought himself that he would be taking no heads today. Trophy taking was for things he wanted to remember.

Little honor here, on this day.

And so he fought, and then where the street had been full of smoke, it was then full of blood and fire instead.

It was over, it seemed, in seconds. His claws rained bits of meat and blood, his feet came down like the wrath of Primus, and as he transformed into his true war-form, assuming the shape of a robotic Tyrannosaurus Rex, his belly blazed with all the sullen anger and hate, the sheer bloody pointlessness of all this death-

A new sun dawned in the street. And there was no more army there.

Grimlock panted and mostly for effect at that, his heavy armor dented and nicked by the wounds they had managed to inflict, and took note of one more notable enemy: one of those grotesque war idols. A forty foot tall simulacrum of the human body in fleshy marble and veins of gold, every bulge of muscle so realistic it would turn the stomach, a lurching thing testament to why realism wasn’t always a good idea in sculpture.

Instantly, he transformed into robot mode again, rolling underneath its strike, and when he rose up, a heated blade was in his hand, and he was already striking. It took another step before falling apart and shit, even its insides were photorealistic, WHY.

He growled and started to walk off, and then a voice caught his attention:

“Filthy toaster.”

He froze in mid-step.

by this point, back up had arrived. From the corner of one of his rows of eyes, he saw Bismuth stomping forwards, the tiny shape of li’l Hal on her shoulder, and a small army of many other beings from the fleet; krogan and asari, viera and beastmen.

He didn’t see them, he just saw the soldier half-dead beneath the rubble of the war idol. Hard to make out anything beneath the blood and white remnants around her, but he took note of an imperial uniform (fairly high ranked, from the size of the fallen hat nearby), and it was ludicrously, obnoxiously ornate. Gilt-y, he thought.

He didn’t know that her name was Josie Beller. Then again, she hadn’t known or cared about the aliens she had murdered. Turnabout's fair play.

“‘Ey, big guy!” Bismuth waved a heavy hand almost literally designed for reshaping the land. “Looks like you already gotten it taken care of for us! ...Uh, Grimlock? You okay there?”

He glanced back at her, and then returned staring at the fallen human.

All this death, and now… that. His claws flexed on their own, and he longed to feel them tear. Blood run down his claws, hear a scream that needed to happen…

She coughed, spitting up a small amount of blood. She glared at them through one good eye. “Animals,” she croaked. “You… you murdering xenos abominations. Aliens and machines…” she gasped in a painful breath. “Someone, answer me… someone, kill them…!”

“...Whatever.” He tried to force down the extremely strong urge to just bite her head off and call it a day, and began to stomp away. “We’re done here. Gotta move on. Bulk of their army is somewhere else.”

Bismuth glanced around, staring at the burning bodies mounted by the soldiers they had come to stop, and at the human commander in the rubble. She may not have ordered it, but then again, she might have. And she was a commonwealth commander. This meant she was a murderer of some variety, whether endorsing the genocide of all that wasn’t human or actively taking part in such campaigns. “Get to it, then.”

Grimlock nodded at her, looking past her impressively massive bust size to meet her burning eyes, and began to move on.

“Get back here,” cried the human on the street. “Come back here and finish it, you monsters!”

He froze, every servo in his body tensing like an engine about to blow and instantly ready to explode into terminal violence.

And every single fleetmate there with even a passing knowledge of old Cybertronian social dynamics freezed up as well. Tension cranked up, and they knew this probably would not end without bloodshed. Well, more of it, anyway.

Grimlock heard, distantly, old things echoing in the scarred parts of his processors, into the scars where they tried to burn out the part of him that could say ‘I am’ and ‘no’. Old things, stinging as deeply as acid poured onto a living brain, seemed very loud indeed:

You’re not a person at all. People turn into useful things. Not an animal.

Not even a real Transformer at all. Just a beast, pretending to be alive.

You are not built for war. Tanks are warriors. Helicopters are warriors. Even trucks can fight, in a pinch. But teeth and jaws are meant only for killing.

An abomination. Another abortion of the demon Onyx.

He’s from Simfur. The land where beasts talk and pretend that they’re people.

An animal; disgusting, depraved, playing at thinking his spark really burns. Just a filthy beast!

You’re not a fighter. You’re designed for killing, Simfurite.

You’re not a Transformer, you’re an animal

You’re a beast

And in the pit of his soul, the thing that echoed louder than the way they always said animal, the sound of ‘beast’ becoming a slur to his morph-kind, was the word ‘monster’.

“What,” he snarled, head whipping around like a bird sighting prey. “Did you call me…?”

“Grimlock, hang on!” A viera canooner said form Bismuth’s shoulder, her massive cannon bouncing and banging up against her barrel-sized breasts. “She’s already going to die. Don’t waste yourself on this-”

“Alien scum!” the human in the dirt railed. “Abominations! Freaks! Machines!” Li’l Hal bristled at the way she said that last word like a curse. “I can still fight! I’ll kill you all!”

“Tough talk,” Grimlock rumbled, a dangerous air to his voice. “From a piece of meat lying on the ground.” He indicated the city. “You butchered your own kind.” He slowly reached down. “You don’t deserve to die with them.”

His claws punched through the rubble and plucked her up, out of the ground, and there he carried her a short distance away. Bismuth and the others followed. Bismuth cooly, waiting to see what would happen, the others with trepidation. Only Li’l Hal seemed intrigued at what would come.

They came to burned grounds, where there had been a forest before the Commonwealth had come. She railed and screamed terrible things; that their people had stolen land that belonged to humanity, that they would all die screaming, they were impure, weak, empty things, soulless monsters and machines… it was not pleasant permitting her to continue living.

“Grims, if you don’t kill that hominid right now, I’m going to do it for you,” Li’l HAl said thinly, an optic notably blinking in and out in anger.

“Won’t take long.” Grimlock leaned down and deposited her in the soot. She tried to crawl, reaching for her weapons in a last ditch attempt to hurt something-

And at this point, Grimlock’s foot, approximately the size of several city buses chained together and wrapped in big spiky claws, came down on her arm like a vise.

She screamed, and his burning gaze was pitiless.

“Shut up!” He lifted his foot up again, she tried to roll away, her arm a useless length of ruin, and his foot came down on her other arm. “You don’t get to scream! Not after what you did!”

His foot came up.

“Not after what your people have done!”

It came down again on her legs.

“You don’t get to just walk away from this. So…” his foot pressed in, further, to the sound of sickening crunches. “Making damn sure you won’t.”

Bismuth watched. Cold, and approvingly. Li’l Hal crossed his arms and seemed to smile, with a vicious edge. The others withheld their own opinions, and occasional nausea. That was just a problem when you fought alongside Grimlock.

“Not killing you today,” Grimlock hissed, his eyes slowly shifting shade from pale yellow to a deep and terrible orange. They glowed like fire, and at that, Bismuth did look up in alarm. Her hands began to extend into restraining hooks, just in case. Grimlock ignored this, and to be fair, would have wanted her to do so regardless. He trusted few, least of all himself. “You don’t deserve the honor of a good death. You get to live.”

He raised his foot up once more. This was a bad thing he was doing, he knew-

Josie Beller stared up, her gaze filled with even more hate than Grimlock could manage on his meanest day. “You are a machine,” she snarled, genuine and horrific malevolence twisting her face into something far more inhuman than anything she lived in mortal fear of. “Machines break. Someone will break you, xenos.”

-But on the other hand, sometimes it just felt so damn good to be a bastard to someone that really had it coming.

“Then let’s check what sound your bones make when I pop them, and we’ll see who else breaks around here,” Grimlock said, and he stepped down.

Hard.

As it transpired, human bones break just as much as metal does. More easily, too.

But he made sure she wouldn’t suffer organ failure… somehow. Nor did he break anything above the next.

With medical treatment, perhaps she might still die. But it was on her society to be semi-decent to their soldiers, he thought, leaving her to bleed in the ash.

She wasn’t his problem, he thought, vindictiveness rising like magma out a vent.

He continued to think this, until many years later, and it came to pass that he was enjoying some beryllium baloney aboard a ship cafeterium. In the vast space, countless other people in the fleet were having meals (many of them drinking dairy products derived from the productive bosoms of the mothers of the fleet, and some of them skipping the middleman entirely in open view, a common arrangement in the shameless sub-culture of the fleet), and big screens above showed various entertainment shows the fleet had tapped into, and important news the quartermasters thought was relevant to people.

“...And then i says to him,” Grimlock said to Pearl, a bit miffed that her breasts were so heavy and over-stuffed that they were making the table lean her way, which she was probably doing on purpose to annoy him. “I says, ‘Reading’s overrated, ya nerd!’. And then he punched me in the face. Mind you, he was barely bigger than a human back then, so I was kinda impressed.”

“And that’s how you met the mighty Optimus Prime, leader of your people and the chosen prophet of Primus?” PEarl said dubiously.

“To be fair, he takes readin’ real, real seriously.”

“Yes, well, he’s not entirely wrong- oh!” PEarl leaned up, her breasts buoying her upwards like a carry-on superbed. ABove her, the screens flickered, and various mugshots were visible, along with a list of crimes, personality traits, weaknesses and last known location: everything an aspiring bounty hunter needed. “Ah! The new bounties are up!” She looked pleased. “Perhaps we can bring some more wealth into the fleet. And I was feeling a tad rusty.”

“Yeah, sounds like fun. Ya wanna team up on this one or… or….” he stopped, staring at one particular bounty.

“I am fine partnering with you, unless you have an alternative.” She waited for the usual playful jibe, but not came. He just continued staring. Pearl blinked, glancing down at the, to her perspective, small but much broader Dinobot, who was still gaping at the monitor, his helm-like beak-mouth splitting into several shocked mandible sections. “...Grimlock? IS something wrong?”

He jabbed a claw at one bounty. “That can’t be. What the hell, I know I put her down!”

Pearl looked. “Hmm?” It was a human woman; blonde a frizzy halo, presumably north European from her features and skin tone, and with the coldest, cruellest expression of pure maliciousness Pearl had ever seen. From the next down, she appeared to be wearing a complicated harness of electromagnetic batteries hooked into crude power armor that was nonetheless quite revealing.

“Circuit Breaker,” Pearl said aloud, eyes widening. “Oh… oh my.” She read the crime sheet, and shuddered in disgust. “That is… a lot of murders of sapient robots. And many codes of attempted genocide, and actual… oh. Yes, we should definitely attend to that.”

There were several quotes from her, to giving hunters an idea of the kind of person they would be dealing with, and all her quotes were not things that needed to be heard. They were mostly along the lines of the fundamental soullessness of all robots, the need to kill any machine that believed it was a person, and enough concentrated poison to make all but the most enthusiastic xenophobe recoil.

It made for unpleasant reading. Pearl noted that by this point, Grimlock would have eagerly announced his intention to punch them into a sun or something, but he was eerily quiet.

“I fought that woman,” he said again. “She didn’t have the suit then, but… I fought her. I beat her! How is she still active!? What is she doing here!?”

Pearl understood at once. Grimlock had a certain reputation, and that amounted to ‘for the love of God, if he is mad at you, run and never stop running’. Actually surviving him when he took offense to your evil was an impressive feat. And she regarded the bounty again.

She hadn’t seen eyes full of so much hate since the Decepticons had come to Homeworld and laid it to waste.

Her hand unconsciously tensed, as if feeling for a spear. “I would like to help you finish the job you started, if you are willing,” she said firmly.

Grimlock nodded curtly. For once, no more jokes, no more jibes, none of their playful rivalry. This was serious.

‘Next time I take out a xenophobic dumbass,’ he privately vowed. ‘I’m just gonna kill ‘em then and there. Not wasting any of this poetic justice garbage.’

#/ #// #/// #//// #///// #my writing #crossthicc AU #grimlock #pearl #circuit beaker #transformers #fics #queued