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harryspet · 4 years

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good girl. bad habits. [1] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, spanking, teacher/student, physical abuse, misogyny, plot now/porn later

A/N: warnings should be explanation enough! this is probably going to have two parts :)

POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which you’re forced to attend a school for Omegas and you meet an Alpha that’s destined to shake up your world.

word count: 4.2k

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taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe

Wanda grabbed your hand, examining your nails with wide eyes, “Where did you get nail polish?” She whisper-shouted, trying not to draw attention to the two of you in the large auditorium. There were rows of girls surrounding you, all of them lacking any sort of individuality because of the stupid dress code.

“I traded for it,” Wanda raised an eyebrow and you sighed, “I’m doing her homework for Mr. Rogers for the next week. Worth it, right? Red looks good on me.”

Wanda gave you a disapproving look but you were quite used to it, “Trading?” Wanda scoffed, “You make it sound like we’re in prison.”

You only frowned, folding your hands in front of you, “That’s the only word I would use to describe it.”

Before Wanda could argue, the deafening sound of a microphone blasted through the auditorium, signalling that the assembly was about to begin. Mistress Romanoff stepped onto the platform, wearing her usual striking red hair and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. All the male teachers lusted for the Beta woman but you only felt jealousy. You wished your uniform skirt hugged your curves rather than dropping to your knees.

She carried the mic with her, clipboard in hand that held the contents of the meeting. It was the crack of dawn and you were running on little sleep but that wasn’t anything special for you. If you wanted anytime to yourself, you had to utilize the time after midnight which meant you often forgoed sleep.

“Good morning, ladies,” She addressed you all, her face lacking a smile or compassion, “You’ve already completed two months of the semester. A majority of you are passing your classes with flying colors. I hope you finish the semester just as strong as you started it ….”

That two months felt like a year to you. You’d spent the summer in a detention center and you were apparently “lucky” to be sitting here instead of there. In reality, you preferred the girls at the detention center over this school because they at least had spines. The girls here were mindless followers just hoping to please whatever men they had in their lives.

“As you all know, at the Stark School, our most popular event is the Halloween Ball. You know, a select few girls are chosen to attend based on merit as a reward for a job well done. This year, I have spectacular news concerning the event that I think all of you ladies will be glad to hear,” There were impatient, excited whispers that roamed over the crowd. You witnessed Wanda whispering something into the ear of the girl beside her. You only yawned, waiting for the assembly to be over, “This year, a select few males from the Asgard School for Alphas will be in attendance-”

Mistress Romanoff was interrupted by an overwhelming reaction from the crowd which consisted of loud squealing and gasps, “Ladies, please calm down. I know you’re all excited but don’t be too rash. There are still several weeks until the Ball. I would advise you all to be on your best behavior and to get your grades up if you want to be considered.”

You wanted to vomit in your mouth. The male teachers were worse enough. Being around young, Alpha males sounded like a complete nightmare. Wanda was freaking out beside you but you had tuned her out. With your current grades and disciplinary record, you’d end up at that Ball when hell freezes over.

You should’ve known that the Halloween Ball would consume everyone’s conversation for the rest of the day. It seemed you were the only one in the entire world that didn’t care. Except for Wanda, you didn’t really have any friends here and today was only adding to that isolation you always felt.

“Let’s go off script today and talk about our goals and aspirations. I often get a lot of questions from you all about advice on the plans for your future. This isn’t exactly Omega history but I figured we could use history in order to help guide us …”

As you sat in class, your eyes weren’t on the board in front of the class but out the window. The school consisted of long corridors, tall ceilings and tall windows. The ancient building sat in the middle of a forest in an area that you did not know. After the judge decided where you’d spend your senior year, they drugged you and brought you here.

You were only half listening to Mr. Rogers as he gave today’s lecture. The paint on your nails was far more interesting. Besides that, you hated how people only raised their hands to agree with him. Looking across the room at Wanda, you could see how in love she was with him.

“Throughout history, we see Omegas taking on a softer and more gentle role in our society, especially in females. Omega females are natural nurturers as well as natural followers. Can someone tell me why this is unlikely to change?”

You rolled your eyes as someone raised their hand, “It’s because it’s in our nature. It’s how the Goddess created us.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Rogers agreed with a smile, “There are leaders in our world and then there are followers. Both positions are equally as important. You can’t have one without the other,” You’d heard this type of lecture a million times and most of the girls at your school gobble it up, “There are a lot of options for omega females. After you meet your mates, the possibilities essentially become endless. There are many nurturing and low stress jobs. I know many Omegas who are secretaries, florists, and even preschool teachers. Most become homemakers and motherhood is the absolute most important job an Omega can have.”

You couldn’t hold in your scoff but, as soon as it left your lips, everyone’s head turned towards you, “What?” You asked no one in particular but to show that you didn’t want to be stared at.

“Miss Y/L/N, is there something you would like to add to the discussion?” Mr. Rogers asked and, although he was beginning to make your heart race, you only crossed your arms.

“No, thank you,” You spoke simply.

“I apologize if I’m boring you but this is a pretty important topic. Why don’t you tell the class your aspirations for the future,” You expected for him to move on but the Alpha seemed to focus in on you. You hated the feeling that crawled under your skin when you looked into his eyes. It was a force, a wall between the two of you to remind you that you were not equal.

“I’d like to be mate free, far away from this school, and on a beach somewhere rolling in cash,” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, eyes widened, and the tension grew thick, “Consider it a five year plan.”

“And you expect to make money how?” Mr. Rogers began to pace in front of his desk, an annoyance in his glare towards you.

“I don’t know but hopefully I’ll make more than a teacher,” You grinned.

Steve stiffened and you saw Wanda look over her shoulder to you. “Stop it,” She mouthed to you.

“I’ll just move somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t treat Omegas like second class citizens.”

The class erupted in gasps and, for a moment, you felt quite powerful, “Stand up, right now,” Mr. Rogers snarled. You did as he said, knowing you wouldn’t be able to disobey a command.

You reached down to grab your backpack, “I know, I know … to the Head Mistress’s office,” You rolled your eyes.

“No, leave your things,” That made you pause and you looked up to see a smirk on his face, “Come up to the front of the class, Miss Y/L/N.”

You let your bag drop to your side with a thud. Everyone around you was still whispering and staring. You felt that power drifting away as you made your way down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. Skirt too high on your thighs, nail polish on your hands, and an attitude on your face that you were struggling to maintain.

You stopped a few feet in front of your teacher before he said, “Hands on the desk,” He ordered you. You huffed out a sigh, every bone in your body telling you to obey. You walked past him, putting your hands down on his desk which left you slightly bent over with your backside exposed to the room of forty girls. “This, young ladies, is important for all of you to see. There will always be some who resist their true nature and who cause disruption.”

You heard the sound of him removing his belt from the waistband of his pants and your body cringed.

You’d heard that things like this happened often here. You heard the head mistress had a secret closet of tools she used on disobedient omegas. You’d never heard of a Professor disciplining a student in front of an entire class.

You wanted to scream and shout but decided that remaining stoic would save you the most embarrassment. Even as he lifted your skirt, you didn’t say a word, only shut your eyes tightly, “Whatever career path you choose, your mate will have to approve. This is not because you are second class citizens but because your mate will know what’s best for you. Ranks are ingrained within us and, no matter how much we fight it, we still end up in positions like you. If we only stayed in our lanes, others wouldn’t have to enforce their rank.”

The first slap of the belt burned badly. You couldn’t help but cry out as your knees buckled together and you tightly gripped the wood of the desk.

He kept going, forcing the class to count along as he completely bruised your bottom. He stopped at fifteen but, by that time, tears were already streaming and you were silently weeping.

The next few weeks passed in a blur with your usual routine of going through your classes like a zombie and listening to Wanda’s ramblings. Like a lot of girls, Wanda already had an Alpha with his eyes set on her. Bucky Barnes, an older man and well respected Alpha had already staked his claim. Wanda’s current mission was to have as much fun and attention that she could before being forced to settle down.

You started to notice how Wanda’s usual group of friends was dwindling as she continued to sit with you. Although she often disagreed with your mentality, she still stayed which was more than anyone had ever done for you.

“Are you really going to run? Escape?” She asked in a whisper as she discussed the forbidden topic.

“Why would I stay? No Alpha will want me. Not even a Beta would,” You only shrugged, stirring your spoon around your bowl of soup.

“That’s not true,” Wanda insisted, “You just …. you just have to adjust a little more. I think you could be happy eventually if you just played the part for a little while. An Alpha could offer you security.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like the cost. I think I’d rather scrub toilets for the rest of my life.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at your words, “I don’t think you would, Y/N. There’s got to be a part of you, deep down, that wants the stability.”

You didn’t answer the question and you didn’t allow the thought to stay on your mind, “Don’t worry about me, just enjoy your dance. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find another Alpha and you can watch them fight over you.”

Wanda smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes, “That does sound wonderful, doesn’t it?” Not long into your conversation, you felt a tapping on your shoulder and a woman telling you that you’re needed in the head mistress’s office, “What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” You said immediately, grabbing your things, “You can have my pudding cup. I’ll see you after last period.” Wanda only nodded, a look of worry on her face as you were escorted away.

The woman, who you assumed was some type of secretary, advised you to fix your appearance. The Stark School was like an old castle with vast hallways and tall ceilings of stained glass. Mr. Rogers told the class one time that it had been used as a fort in a war hundreds of years ago. People thought it was an interesting fact but the antiqueness of everything left you feeling creeped out most of the time.

You arrived at her office after climbing the winding stairs of the tallest tower. Mrs. Potts was waiting by the window when you entered. You kept your hands folded, hiding the nail polish on your fingers as you waited for her to address you. She stared out of the window, out to wear P.E. classes were being held, and your eyes wandered to the large wardrobe in the corner.

You gulped as you realized that was probably where she kept her weapons of discipline, “How are your studies going, dear?” You turned your head to find her staring intently at you, “Come, sit down.”

You moved forward, obeying the Alpha Females commands, and taking a seat in front of her desk, “Well, I’m not failing anything,” You spoke tersely.

“I heard,” She nodded, taking a seat behind her desk. She straightened the jacket of her black suit as she folded her hands over the desk, “That’s a big improvement, Y/N. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “To talk about my improvement?” You put the word “improvement” in quotes.

“Exactly, when you first arrived you started with at least one infraction a day. Now you’re down to one a week. I can tell you’re learning and that you’re adjusting well.”

“Are you letting me out of here earlier then?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

Pepper only chuckled, “Here’s what I’m offering you - a chance to go to the Halloween Ball.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked.

“When the school year is over, you won’t have many options. If you get back on suppressants, you’ll be caught and end up back in the Council’s bad graces. It’s my job to help you and I don’t want to see that happen,” You could tell that she was being sincere but there was still the ulterior motive of simply getting you out of her hair, “You’ll go to the ball, maybe you’ll meet someone willing to take you in and give you something better than what you can give yourself.”

You frowned, “I’m assuming you’re not giving me a choice.”

Pepper sighed, “You have over fifty infractions, Y/N. Any other student would have been kicked out by now. Just take this chance.”

It was quite amusing to you watching the group of boys and girls meet each other. They both seemed to be an inexperienced group of teenagers awkwardly trying to figure things out. The girls stood on one side and the boys stood on the other for the first ten minutes of the dance before a brave boy walked over to ask a girl to dance. Now, the dance was in full swing and you were sitting by the snack table, easing your anxiety with cookies.

Wanda loaned you a long white dress and allowed you to cut it into something off-shouldered with a slit down the side to expose your thigh. You watched Wanda who was dancing happily in a champagne pink, ruffled dress.

The Alphas that passed you only stared, probably wondering why you weren’t bashfully batting your eyelids at them. Another thing that added to your anxiety was the energy they gave off. You could handle class with Mr. Rogers but being in the ballroom was putting you on edge.

You sat through a few more loud pop songs before finally standing up and heading for the exit. As you made it to the door, you heard an out of breath Wanda calling for you. You turned to see her pulling a boy along with her, a look of lust in his eyes as he gazed at her. He wasn’t what made your breath hitch in your throat, it was who was behind him.

“Y/N, this is Brad,” She gestured to the boy whose hand was interlaced with hers, “And this is his friend Peter.”

Peter.

Something made you do a double take. You didn’t recognize him but you felt your world shift at the sight of him. You felt your heart rate increase as she felt something foreign … attraction. A kind face that didn’t match those brown eyes that screamed danger. In those few seconds where your eyes lingered on his, you questioned every feeling you’d ever had.

“I’m going … on a walk,” You told Wanda, not addressing them.

“Take us with you to get some fresh air,” She winked at you, knowing what you were hinting at.

Your shoulders slumped but you nodded, “You’re lucky there’s enough in my stash.”

You turned around and pushed open the gymnasium door and led the three of them into the hallway. The four of you did your best to avoid any chaperones, dipping into a custodian's closet when you heard the tapping of heels coming your way. Like you had planned it, you switched on the light and ran your eyes over the many shelves.

“How did you even get it?” Wanda whispered.

They did bed checks often and a lot of the administrators were fond of combing through your dorm room thoroughly.

“I’m cool with the janitor,” You answered simply, shrugging. As you found the empty container for disinfecting wipes, you reached in to find what you were looking for. You felt the young Alphas eyes burning into you as you presented it to the group.

A flask.

You tilted the silver container back, swallowing quickly in an attempt to not taste the vile liquid. Not meeting his eyes, you held the flask out to the side for him to take. The four of you were making your way to the lake. Wanda and Brad, stuck in their own world, had wandered ahead which left the two of you to awkwardly walk beside each other down the dirt path.

When he didn’t take it, you glanced at him, “I don’t think that’s going to get me drunk,” He said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone. You couldn’t help that your eyes lingered on the skin of his chest and he seemed to notice. He flashed you a curious look but you turned your head again.

“Suit yourself,” You took another sip, scowling as you pulled it from your lips.

The four of you arrived at the lake and it seemed Brad and Wanda couldn’t keep their hands off of each other any longer. After taking a big swig out of the flask, she told you that she and Brad were going to go “check out” the storage cabin where the school kept lake gear. She giggled as he pulled her away, leaving the two of you along on a picnic bench, staring out onto the eerie, dark water.

“What’s your last name?” He asked and a part of you was frustrated that he was trying to make small talk with you.

“You wouldn’t know my family,” You said simply.

“Try me,” He challenged you like the cocky Alpha you assumed he was.

“They’re dead, it’s not like it matters.”

“How?” He continued, “How did they die?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Do you always ask girls about traumatic topics when you first meet them?”

“You don’t seem like most girls I’ve met.”

“And I guess that’s an excuse?” You scoffed but his expression didn’t change. He seriously wanted to know, “They were rogues and they died like everyone else who defies the Council. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Was his curt response.

An Alpha apologizing? You never thought you’d see the day.

“What’s your last name?”

“Parker,” Your eyes widened as the name left his lips.

“You’re … you’re Tony Stark’s nephew?” He only nodded, “And you’re saying sorry when your uncle is on the council. When he’s the reason they’re dead. That’s rich.”

“I’m not my uncle,” He stated more firmly than you expected. It took you back for a moment and the two of you stared intensely for a long moment.

“I don’t care,” His eyebrows tightened and his lips pressed into a rectangle at your reaction, “Even if you don’t want to end up like him, you probably will. It’s a part of your nature,” You spoke, mocking the words you heard all day long in class.

“It’s not a part of my nature to kill those who disagree with me,” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words.

“How else will you assert your dominance, oh wise Alpha?”

He breathed deeply, sensing how you were toying with him, “A good alpha doesn’t need to kill or rely only on their strength. Alphas who lack the respect of their followers do.”

It deeply confused you that someone like him could think this way. You were quiet for a moment as you thought it over, “Are you saying Tony Stark lacks the respect of his people?”

“They only fear him,” Peter’s eyes seemed to darken even in the moonlight shining down on the two of you.

Pete watched as it clicked within your mind, “And you don’t want to be feared?” As he leaned in closer, you surprised yourself by not pulling away. You felt that same magnetism pulling you towards him, promising you pleasure, but frightening you at the same time.

His fingers brushed against yours and a shiver went down your spine, causing your lips to part and your eyes to widen, “Control feels much better when it’s instinct. When it’s wanted and desired. That’s real control,” His voice was warm, and surprisingly calm. It made you forget for a moment and drop the walls. Your eyes roamed over his every feature, ever line of his jaw, and ever curl of his hair.

His eyes wandered down to your lips and you suddenly snapped out of the spell. You stood up from the bench with a start, realizing how deeply you were just staring at him, “I don’t believe in those bullshit rankings,” You stated firmly and he stood up with you, trying to close the distance between the two of you, “They’re all fucking lies.”

You were about to turn away when he grabbed your upper arm. You gritted your teeth as he pulled you into him, “Believe this then. I want you, Y/N.”

“Let go of me,” Your voice was lower than you expected as you stared into those eyes. Why was your voice so weak? “You don't even know me.”

“It’s instinct,” He said, holding your firmly although his grip was tight, “And I can tell that you feel it too. Deep down, you’re searching for someone to take care of you. You want reassurance like they all do.” You tried to look away from him but you just couldn’t. “Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” You shook your head, tears starting to sting your eyes. “A girl like you needs someone gentle. Someone to ease you into submission rather than force it.”

You felt like you were melting into him and as his head dipped down to place his lips on yours, that voice in the back of your head was screaming to kiss him back. Your wrist pinned together between you, Peter stole your first kiss and it was a wonderfully terrifying feeling.

You felt warmth in your core and you tightened your legs together as he began to kiss along your jaw and then your neck, surely leaving marks on your skin, “Peter …”

“Tell me to stop,” He said against your skin.

The words were on your tongue but it was like your body had switched to autopilot. It wanted his touch and that’s all your body wanted to focus on. When he finally did pull his lips from your skin, your body was still craving that foreign touch.

Before his hands could roam over the rest of your body, a bright light blinded the two of you and footsteps approached. Peter let go of your skin but you still felt his touch, as Mr. Rogers appeared. You only crossed your arms, looking down at your feet as the two of you were caught.

“What are you doing out here, son?” Of course, Steve didn’t address you.

“We wanted to look at the Full Moon,” Peter lied, “My apologies, sir.”

“Where’s Maximoff?”

“We haven’t seen her,” Peter shrugged casually.

“I’d stay away from this one if I were you. There’s plenty of good girls worthy of your time,” Steve gestured to you but him disliking you was the least of your worries at the moment, “You can head back to the dance, Mr. Parker. I’ll be escorting this one back to the dorms.”

Peter stepped forward, walking past Steve, but he looked back to mouth something to you.

Clear as day, you could read his lips say, “You’re mine.”

No matter the cost, you decided then that you’d run. Run from this place and from the feeling Peter gave you that made you so weak in the knees.

part two

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pi-cat000 · 4 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 38)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6

Part 39: here

...

VIVI POV

Vivi’s never spent much time in hospital or medical clinics- the perks of having a doctor for a father-and now she’s had the opportunity she can confirm that she hates it. She hates the off white walls, the artificial light, and faint smell of bleach. Hates how claustrophobic and stuffy the corridors feel despite having so little in them. Hates the stupid cheap picture prints of supposedly uplifting scenes spaced along the walls. Mostly, she hates how the nurses and orderlies rush around, always busy, while she’s stuck with only her thoughts for company.

"I just wish you’d told me something was wrong…or that something bad was happening. I would have helped…”

No response. Arthur maintains his silence. With both her friends unconscious, she’s had plenty of time to ruminate on the past few days, trying to fit together a version of events that made sense. Vivi slumps forward, tapping her foot to let out excess energy, leaning towards Arthur. He’s a chalky white colour and his hair is limp, spread across the pillow framing his equally pale face, but his expression is peaceful so that’s something. It was better than seeing Arthur's face all twisted, grinning at Lewis like he wanted to rip his friend apart. It was better than seeing the panicked defeat on his face moments before he lost consciousness and she was left sitting in two growing puddles of blood.

No.

She can't think about that. All she could do now is try and understand. Upset, Vivi fiddles with her phone, flipping through applications, trying to distract herself from the silence and monotony. She deliberately ignores her growing collection of missed calls and texts from her family. The only two people she wants to hear from are in no position to contact her.

“Something was bothering you long before all this…”

She pauses in her tapping, reaching forward so her hand ends up hovering over Arthur’s, uncertain. Unfortunately, even when knowing about the body snatcher and Mystery’s kitsune form, she still doesn’t know why Arthur had started acting weird. All this crap and she’s still in the dark.

“Was that asshole Micky threatening you?”

Lewis had mentioned Arthur getting into an altercation with the guy. Was that Micky’s motivation or had the body snatcher already been targeting Arthur before that? Sure, the creature had said it wasn’t involved in Arthur’s initial behaviour change, but she wasn’t about to just trust it.

“When did you become such a convincing liar?” Silence follows her question and she switches her phone on and off, mind elsewhere.

‘Don’t you want to know why Arthur’s been acting so out of character?

Like someone’s flipped a switch on his personality

… not quite himself…’

The bastard parasite made it sound like Arthur had been possessed long before the it got involved. She physically shakes her head, trying to dislodge the taunt, resuming her restless tapping. Mystery had confirmed that Arthur was no longer possessed…and Arthur's eyes had been their usual golden colour right up until that night outside the diner. He couldn’t have been possessed before that. Mystery would have mentioned it…right?

“Maybe I’m just that gullible...”

Not like she has a great track record. That day, when the weird behaviour had started, Lewis had picked up on it almost immediately but she’d just dismissed it as a mood swing. Her parents and dog had lied to her all her life and she was only now just figuring it out after having the truth shoved in her face. It stung.

“I can’t even sniff out the truth when it’s right under my nose,” she mutters, glancing up at the clock hanging over a silent television set. It had been around this time yesterday that a nurse had come past, pressuring her to leave. The first thing she was doing when Arthur awoke was force him to sign her up as a medical proxy so she didn’t have to hang out in the 24/7 emergency waiting room until visiting hours recommenced.

Disheartened, Vivi stands, making her way out of the room, scooping up the small pile of disposable coffee cups and food wrappers to dump in the trash on her way out. Both Lewis’s parents and been by to check on Arthur several times, bringing her cups of tea and snacks so she wouldn’t accidentally stave.

She hesitates at the door, glancing back at Arthur.

“I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”

She supposes she should be grateful that Arthur has a room all to himself and she doesn’t have to worry about disturbing other patients with her muttering. Lewis is sharing his room with three other people. That fact that those three other people were unconscious and unlikely to wake up didn't make it comfortable. She slinks down the hall, leaving Arthur behind.

The door to Lewis’s room is dull grey like every other door in the place. It has been left open, allowing her to hover and peek into the room without being spotted by Lewis’s parents. Only his mom and sisters are present. They’re talking in lowered voices, impossible to make out against the general ambience of the hospital in the background. Gingerly, she backs up. He throat tightens. It doesn’t look like Lewis is awake and she didn’t want to bother the family. The small space around the bed was crowded enough.

“Vivi?”

She jumps at the second voice, twisting quickly and almost knocking two styrofoam cups of steaming liquid from Nicholas Pepper’s hands. Luckily, Lewis’s dad has the foresight to draw back a step.

She winces, pulling away from the door to cross her arms.

“Sorry…I’m a bit jumpy.”

Worry floods the older man’s face and she quickly moves to deflect the incoming question about her wellbeing.

“How’s Lewis?”

A long sigh.

“…Still comatose, but his brain activity is steadily increasing, which I’m told is a good sign, so there’s hope that he’ll wake up. We’re waiting for word on a proper recovery time-frame.”

“Oh.” She winces again, “That’s....”

What exactly is she supposed to say to that? She swallows, words suck.

“…better than yesterday…” Nicholas finishes her sentence for her with a reassuring smile.

She clears her throat, “Sorry I haven’t been by to see him sooner…it’s just…” Lewis had his whole family visiting in shifts and Arthur had no one. It definitely wasn't because seeing Lewis unconscious made her unbearably miserable.

“I’m sure Lewis would understand.”

Yeah, he would. Lewis was great like that. Vivi begins to retreat backwards. If she spends too much time thinking about Lewis she’ll get all teary again.

“We’ve decided temporarily rent an apartment not far from here. It’s small, and a bit crowded, especially with the girls, but there’s always room for one more.”

Vivi nods stiffly, continuing to shuffle backwards, moving around an unused monitor stand blocking part of the hallway. “Um, thanks but…I’ve got something to do…I need to check on Mystery…”

“I hope you’ve eaten more in the last 12 hours than that role I gave you at lunch.”

She grimaces. “I have…” There were vending machines right next to the emergency centre and a 24-hour coffee shop across the road. Nicholas gives her an evaluative stare, and Vivi is reminded that Lewis had have gotten his people skills from somewhere.

“We’ll probably be eating in about two hours, depending on how helpful the girls are feeling and what the general mood is,” A careful pause, “I hope you’ll drop by at least.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She turns in the opposite direction, hurrying away.

“I’ll text you the address…”

The hospital flashes by in a blur of pastel and she rushes past the ugly plastic chairs in the foyer near the reception desk. Outside the temperature is cooling but not uncomfortable. She quickly rubs her eyes, breathing in, focusing on the fresh unscented air. The heat is still radiating from the sun-soaked pavement means she barely needs Lewis’s oversized jacket to keep warm. A quick scan of the slowly emptying street has her spotting the recognisable shape of Mystery. The dog weaves around the scattered pedestrians, trotting in her direction. She stamps down her guilt, melancholy, and frustration to focus on the matter at hand.

/Vivi./ Mystery scans her and gives her a lopsided concerned squint. /You look…./

"Don't start..." She scowls, daring him to comment on her appearance.

/Hmmm…/ Mystery pauses, instead asking, /How are Arthur and Lewis?/

“No change…and Uncle Lance is still in the ICU in case you’re wondering,” she answers stiffly, trying to ignore the odd looks several pedestrians throw her way. Hastily, she starts walking towards her truck and out of sight, holding her phone up so she doesn’t look like a complete loony talking to Mystery.

Mystery follows behind without prompting. She had parked in almost the same spot as last time so she wouldn’t have to worry about spending a fortune on parking tickets while she waits uselessly for hours on end.

/I see…I suppose the fact that no one is worse off is good news./

“No,” she retorts, spinning to glare at Mystery. “Good news is everyone waking up. Good news is Lewis not in a coma or Lance being released. None of this is good.”

/I only meant it was good that death is no longer imminent./ Mystery adds. In her mind, his sentence sounds carefully worded. He is eyeing her with something akin to care or concern. A couple walking past in business attire give alarmed looks upon the outburst.

“What?” She snaps at them. The busybodies continue past, giving her a wide berth. She watches them go before breathing out in frustration. All that time spent sitting silently in the hospital has given her a lot of restless energy.

“Come on. We’ll talk in the truck.”

The rest on the short trip is spent in silence.

“What did you find out at the police station,” She asks once they're safely inside the truck cab, isolated from the general public. Mystery jumps in to sit beside her, eyeing her, one part concern one part thoughtful. Vivi leans across the seat to close the door and seal them inside.

/If you agree to rest and eat, I will tell you what I have found./

She scowls, frustration growing, “Are you trying to con me into a deal.”

/No. I am being completely transparent./ Mystery huffs, /As humans are unaffected by such dealings, this is purely a show of my goodwill./

“You’re doing this now?”

/Yes. You still harbour resentment towards me. Understandable. However, I would not form something as significant as an oath if I did not truly care about your wellbeing. Please./

Vivi glares some more but Mystery remains unmoved. Deals consisted of an offer, an amendment from the second party, then acceptance by the original offeror. It was a three-step process that humans weren’t supernaturally bound or required to follow, though it was poor form to break one. So...

“Fine…I’ll try and get a good night’s sleep and maybe eat. Happy?” She amends stubbornly, waiting to see if Mystery will accept the somewhat crappy revision. Mystery just snorts, amused and vaguely approving.

/Very well. I accept./

Mystery’s eyes flash ever so subtly and Vivi feels a tingle run up her arm. She exhales, rubbing her eyes. If there’s one thing she’s learnt over the past few days it’s that someone can both care and lie at the same time so she’ll take Mystery’s ‘goodwill’ with a grain of salt.

“So…What did you find out?” She repeats.

/As instructed, I spent the day, approximately nine hours, shadowing the human called Anderson around his place of work./

“And…”

/He appears busy, most of his time was spent sitting at a desk or in discussion with other humans, with topics ranging from various crimes in the city to social plans. The only mention of Arthur and Lance, referred to as the Kingsman casefile I believe, was a phone call confirming the existence of an abandoned vehicle removed from St Peter’s two-hour parking lot two nights ago. They plan to seize this vehicle as evidence for the case./ Mystery finishes his recount with a curious head tilt like he’s unsure whether the information is relevant. That makes two of them.

“What does that have to do with anything,” She mutters. It had been two full days since their confrontation with the body snatcher at the Pepper’s diner and Lance’s admittance to the hospital so the vehicle had been abandoned the same day.

“You don’t think it’s Arthur’s van do you…did they mention what sort of vehicle it was?”

/No, that was not mentioned./

“If it is the van, then how did Arthur get to the diner?”

/These parasitic creatures are often limited to the capabilities of their hosts. It would have had to have used a form of human transport./

She crosses her arms, tapping her foot against the break-peddle, trying to fit the mysterious vehicle into her mental timeline of events.

First, the body snatcher arrives in Tempo in possession of Micky who threatens Arthur for some unknown reason, causing Arthur’s odd behaviour. Two weeks later, her, Lewis and Arthur leave Tempo on their road trip and the body snatcher attacks and possesses Lance the same night. Next, Lance is moved to the hospital in an ambulance before contacting Arthur. Arthur leaves her and Lewis, rushing to his Uncle’s side where the body snatcher is waiting to possess him. Once Arthur is possessed, the body snatcher attacks his Uncle and leaves the hospital, heading to the diner. Finally, her and Lewis arrive at the hospital just in time to save Lance.

There are lots of discrepancies in her timeline like: Where had the body snatcher come from? Micky had mentioned the old mines up west, was that related? Why attack Arthur? Surely this wasn’t all because Arthur had insulted his motorcycle? At what point had Micky been possessed? She and Lewis had arrived at the hospital several hours behind Arthur but were still in time to save Lance?

These discrepances aside, she’s pretty confident that she has the barebones of a usable timeline. If the vehicle referetd to by the police is Arthur’s van, then she might have to rethink things though.

“There isn’t anything else?” She asks again just to be sure.

/As I said, this human was busy with many activities and most of his work was completed electronically./

“Figures.” Aggravated, she takes a breath and tries to think logically. “Where’s the vehicle now?”

/That was not mentioned./

Well, this place wasn’t huge, how many car impounds could there be near the hospital? She pulls out her phone, connecting to the internet. There are two new missed calls from her dad and one from her mom. She ignores them.

“I got it. There are only two impounds nearish to the town centre. We’ll check the closest one first,” She pulls on her seatbelt, twisting so she can reverse safely out of the park. She’s definitely getting better at handling the small flatbed truck. When compared to driving in pitch black, rain pouring down and tears messing up her vision, this city driving was laughably easy.

/…and then will you rest?/

“Yeah, sure, after this.” At least this is something to occupy her mind. After spending the whole day circling through the same facts and replaying every scenario, it’s good to have something new think about.

The first car compound is pretty small, with four of its six-car spots occupied and none containing Arthur’s van. A chain-link fence cordons it off from the footpath. It’s nothing special. There’s not even any barbed wire atop the fence. Vivi makes sure she doesn’t park close enough to appear on any of the visible security cameras near the entrance. The two-story office building adjacent to the yard appears closed and Vivi eyes the darkened windows as she exits the truck, shoving her hands into her jacket pocket. The temperature has dropped in the last hour.

“Hey Mystery, your illusions, they, like, bend light or something right?” In the dim twilight, she doesn’t have to worry as much about appearing crazy when talking to Mystery. Not that there are many people around this area to notice her.

/They act as an intangible layer between myself and others./

She pauses to stare at Mystery, mulling over the description, “Remind me to teach you some real sciencey terminology because you’re explanations are kind of vague.” Arthur would help with that too…when he woke up…if he woke up.

“Do you think they’ll work on cameras?”

/I believe so. I had no problems while spying today and I saw multiple recording devices about the building./

“Good enough for me I guess. Can you stop people from seeing me while I climb over this?”

/Yes, but I will need to be quiet close to you. My range in this form is only five feet./

She picks him up, trying not to feel too uncomfortable. She has made a deliberate effort to keep a physical distance from Mystery and resist any inclination to pat or hold him. It just feels wrong. Weird.

Awkwardly, she lets Mystery balance between her shoulder blades, freeing her arms to climb. “You’re not going to fall are you?” She’d never have trusted a dog to do this.

He shuffles about and she can feel his paws twitch as he adjusts his position in time with her movements.

/I will not fall./ He confirms. Once Mystery is secure, she heaves herself onto the fence and, when no one comes running out to stop her, scrambles the rest of the way up and over. Mystery hangs close to her legs as they walk across the lot and she has to concentrate so she doesn't accidentally trip over him.

None of the cars stand out, even upon closer inspection. She circles the small space and wonders what she is looking for. If Arthur were here, he’d probably know. Arthur actually paid attention to these sorts of details.

/This one has a familiar scent./ Mystery speaks as she carefully examines each vehicle in turn.

“You recognise the car? From where?” She re-examines it, but can’t find a match. It’s a pretty generic looking car, old, a bit run down. A standard vehicle for a town like Tempo so it could be anyone's.

/I am unsure. The scent is muddied with human chemicals./

If she had access to the police database she’d be able to search up its number plates. Exasperated, she walks forward to try the handle. The car is old enough not to have automated locks so it’s worth a shot. She hesitates briefly to cover her hand with a sleeve so she doesn’t leave any fingerprints, wondering if she’s being too paranoid.

It’s locked. What a shock. However, upon circling the car she finds one of the back windows half-open. Peering in, the interior is a mess with several old flannel shirts, take away containers and miscellaneous nik-nacks strewn about.

“Here.” She picks Mystery up from under the armpits, holding him out to the opening, “Can you smell anything else inside.”

The dog spends a moment breathing deeply, head moving around and positioning at different angles. Around them, wind rattles pits of discarded scrap metal, pushing around several empty plastic bags. The street lamps on the main road flicker on as the natural light dims.

/It is recognisable./ Mystery finally confirms, /I believe I may have come across this human at Arthur’s residence./

“…like a customer?”

/No. It is too distinct to be a customer. I would have had to have met this human several times to remember it./

“…But you don’t know who it is?”

/Unfortunately, I am not in the habit of cataloguing the smells of random humans./ Mystery responds, apologetic.

“This has to be the vehicle the police referred to…what are the odds of you recognising it if it isn’t?” Vivi mummers, glaring at the car again before retreating back over the fence. With the night quickly approaching there is not enough light to see any further details without pulling out her phone to use as its flashlight.

Back in the truck, she taps a finger on the dashboard, mulling over what she’s learnt. How many other people frequented Kingsman Mechanics that Mystery would have met more than once? Aside from her and Lewis’s families.

“Lance had those two mechanic guys help out when Arthur was away or busy. I think their names where…Derrick….no…Darrel and Oliver or something. They’re the only ones who regularly visit the workshop. You think the car belongs to one of them?”

Mystery shrugs.

They drive to the second car impound to do some more snooping. It’s the same as the first place, only this time Mystery doesn’t recognise any of the vehicles present. Stumped, Vivi finds herself back where she’d started, sitting and thinking, trying to come up within something that made sense.

It wasn’t impossible that one of Lance’s employees had accompanied and/or driven Lance to the hospital on the day of the body snatcher’s first attack. If only she had their phone numbers, but no, she’d rarely talked to either of them. If Lewis were here, he would have had the numbers saved for sure. Lewis had everyone’s phone number. Lewis wasn’t here though. He was in a coma. Arthur was still unconscious. It was just her and random bits and pieces of information.

This is the same problem she’d run into when chasing after Arthur. Not enough information. She doesn’t know what to do and she doesn’t even have Lewis to distract her. Vivi grips her head, tasselling her hair, trying to hold back a sudden wave of panic. What if she’s too late again. What if she can’t figure this out in time. She’ll be too late to do anything and both Lewis and Arthur would suffer for it.

Why is she always one step behind?

/Vivi?/ A light prodding draws her attention. /You really should rest...It will make this investigation easier./

Mystery had his paw on her arm, eyes shining with more concern and emotion then she’s ever seen the dog openly display.

“I’m fine…” She pulls away and rubs her eyes, leaning back to stare at the roof, trying to regain composure. “It’s just…I’m always a step behind…If I knew more, if people would just tell me things... I’d be able to figure this out….” before something went terribly wrong, she adds silently.

“If I’d known more to begin with, I could have helped from the start.” That’s what she’ll keep telling herself at least…

/The decision to withhold information would not have come from a place of malice…/ The soft-spoken reassurance only serves to reignite her resentment.

“So, just because they thought they were doing the right thing, it’s okay.” At this point, she’s not sure if she’s referring to her parents, Mystery or Arthur.

Mystery glances away, uncomfortable. Even now, she’s pretty sure Mystery’s holding back despite everything. She exhales again, trying to smother her emotions. She’d already run through this argument with Mystery and the whole thing is pointless. She can’t stop people lying to her. The only thing to do now was to be more aware of possible deception in the future.

“Say the car belonged to either Darrel or Oliver,” She pushes through her upset and back to the issue at hand. The more she thinks about the lies, the muddier her mind becomes, and the worse she feels. It’s better to just stay proactive and not obsess over everything people may or may not be keeping from her.

“Why just abandon it at the hospital? It can’t be a coincidence.”

She starts the engine, flipping on the heating to chase away the growing chill in the air.

/… where are we going?/

“Arthur’s van is still unaccounted for, meaning he probably drove it to the Pepper’s diner. If the cops haven’t found it then it’ll still be there somewhere.” She’s somewhat annoyed at herself for not thinking to look for the van sooner.

When Mystery shoots her a look of enquiry she elaborates, “Maybe there’ll be more of a clue regarding what happened in the van. If there is another person involved then that parasite-asshole might have killed or hurt them…It would explain the abandoned car and why the police care about it.”

It’s all speculation, but what else can she do at this point.

‘This is why leaving hosts alive backfires,’

The parasite bastard had said something like that right before getting Arthur shot …There were implications behind a statement like that. She hopes she’s wrong, the last thing she wants is for Arthur to get caught up in a murder investigation.

Mystery’s eyes darken and he lets off a low growl. /It is plausible…these creatures do take pride in spreading chaos. The one inhabiting Arthur was particularly…malicious./

She tightens her grip on the steering wheel.

Part 39: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #Vivi Yukino #Mystery the dog #angst #Vivi angst #coarse language #references to injury #timelines #time travel #hospitals

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melinaajamie · 3 years

Text

35 Questions for Fanfic Writers

Thanks @bachint for tagging me! I’ll try to provide you with the best answers I can come up with ^^

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!) Probably three stars, maybe four? Yeah, four. I know it seems arrogant but aside from the occasional “OMG EVERYTHING I WRITE IS CRAP!” that ever writer experiences from time to time, I usually like what I’m writing and especially how I write ^^

2. Why do you write fanfiction? Bc I love exploring the universes and characters I love further. Ehy accept the canon as it is? ;D

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works? Puuh, that’s a hard one? Maybe that I like to kill a bunch of characters? :D Naah, it’s probably the length of what I write. Once I get started I can’t seem to stop.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you? Since I study literature and read a bunch of books for it, absolutely. It can be any book from any author I read. But Arthur Conan Doyle inspires me a lot, Simon Beckett and Paulo Coelho.

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of? My Professor Layton fanfic “The Cogs of Time” ^^

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily? The start. I hear a lot of people say this is the hardest and in some ways I agree with them. But I usually just start writing and go with the flow. Or I immediately have the beginning of a story/chapter in my mind once I start thinking about it.

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most? Writing believable dialogue between parents and their kids. I’m fine as long as the kids are little (let’s say up to 8, maybe 10), but then I’m stumped.

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write? Like in general or specific characters? I can write any characters as long as they are not parents. Then I have a bit of a problem.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write? Ah. Okay. Tying in with (7) here, parents (:

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for? To write for? Hm... probably adventure, crime fiction/detective fiction and Young Adult? I don’t know, I like a quite realistic approach that can and will take a dark turn.

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most? About the world. About what’s wrong. About relationships that took a wrong turn, about things that are almost right, about figure skating (big fan!), about growing up, about changing.

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about. Currently, I’m absolutely excited about my Layton Brothers; Mystery Room fanfic “A Game of Murder”! I’m SO close to the ending and I can’t wait to solve the murder and finally reveal the killer! Everyone will hate me XD

13. First fandom you ever wrote for? Disney’s “Frozen”

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for? That changes according to my current obsession. At the moment, my favourite fandoms are Professor Layton and Pokemon.

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for? Weird in what way? I don’t believe in that concept, sorry :)

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)? Does murdering characters I and the audience love count? Then it’s that XD

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for. Probably more of a genre but romance. If romance is the main plot/trope I’m off. If it is a sub plot that’s interesting AND supports the story in some way, I will take a look.

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written? Probably also “Cogs of Time”. So much death in the end that no one expected, so much heartbreak. I admit, I indeed was a bit of an asshole with that last chapter XD

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between? I like giving the canon a little twist and AUs ^^

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff? Gen. If it’s shippy, then it’s usually just something short. Like I said, I’m not one for romance.

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!) That also depends on my current obsession. At the moment, that would be LayClaire and Lemmy (both romantic, both Professor Layton) and Lucifendi (platonic and romantic, Layton Brothers; Mystery Room). And any Pokemon couple for friendship ^^

22. Do you listen to anything while you write? MUSIC! Always!!

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas? independent ideas. But I often find myself including a line I’ve read as a prompt somewhere or making it the theme of a chapter.

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works? Multi-chapter works.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic?Tell us about them! I have dreamt about my fics being movies or TV series, but spin-offs? If I want a spin-off I write it :D

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try? So far, nope. As Margaret Atwood once said, “The paper basket is your friend. It was invented for you by God.”

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received? Someone saying I made their day with my writing :) I love to make people happy!”

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing? It does hurt but I know people want to help so I try to be open to it and look back into the part that was given critic.

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out? I always do that when I have to write interaction between parents and older children. I always feel like it’s very stiff but my friends say it’s okay. Well.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst? MERCILESS ANGST ALL THE WAY.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them! Yep! I once created a Professor Layton OC whom was the dead (well, we never really got to know if she was indeed dead, she has just vanished) daughter of a character. She was instead just kidnapped by the criminal organisation her father was fighting and trained to be one of their soldiers. I never write the fanfic but it never left my mind. Might do that one day :)

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less. “Let’s play my favourite game. A game of murder.”

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process? That I put as much effort in as I can to make it as good as possible fir you guys!! And that I usually do a lot of research and put the most effort into the tiniest things to make it realistic and add another layer to make it a shade darker ;D

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. I’m really proud of this but it’s not a fanfic. I hope that’s okay. I can’t really think of one thing that I’m proud of bc there are many. It’ from the book I’m currently writing.

He let go of him so suddenly that the cold hit him like a brick. Mikhail gasped for air, needed a few seconds until he could open his eyes again. The view was heaven-sent. Vasja was standing above him, the gaze of his icy blue eyes troubled yet so piercing and captivating that Mikhail found himself sitting up without another thought as if someone had turned him into a puppet. At times, he felt as if Vasja was the great puppet master who made Mikhail’s entire world dance as he liked. And he loved dancing for Vasja. The gaze of his icy blue eyes contrasted with his ruby red hair which surrounded his face like a bloody halo; it made his snow white skin glow even more. He remembered the feeling of Vasja’s hair between his fingers, as soft as velvet, as clouds, as a mild breeze o fair on one oft he first days of spring. He reached out for Vasja but he was quick to grab the boy’s hands and place them low on his stomach. A shudder ran down Mikhail’s spine when he felt Vasja’s finger travel across his arms until they cupped his face. He lifted it so Mikhail had to look at him. „You know the rules, right, Micky?“

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want! Like, it’s so amazing?? You get millions of words for FREE and the authors don’t get ANYTHING but STILL we have this amazing community who keeps writing and reading and commenting... It’s just AWESOME!! I’m so glad I discovered fanfiction bc the community is so awesome and I always wanted to give some canons a good twist or just think of new things with characters I love!!

#fanfiction #fanfic #The Cogs of Time #professor layton #layton brothers mystery room #ao3 #i got tagged #35 questions for fanfic writers #writing #my writing #writer

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lostinthelightss · 4 years

Text

literal chaos fire (ch.5)

amazing banner by @downn-in-flames / down-in-flames@FFT

find it elsewhere: fft | ao3 | ff.net | hpff learn more: chaos universe link to other chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 link to missing moments: 5.5, 7.5, 8.5, 15.5

pairing: Lily Luna Potter / OC genre: AU, Humor, Romance rating: mature audiences

summary:

Victoire Weasley is a masters student in infectious diseases handling a devastating break up with her girlfriend of two years. Lily Potter is a first year law student navigating a figurative minefield that is the star quarterback’s unrequited affection. Molly Weasley is pursuing her bachelors in engineering while pining over her best friend - who doesn’t seem to realize it.

Three women, three vastly different lives, all coming together with group chats, family dinners, and a whole lot of chaos.

chapter summary:

micky: ugh, where's my knight in shining armor

vicky: more like football player in a minivan

micky: im not picky

SEPTEMBER 25TH, 2021

‘the dopest house' (foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesanator, moollywoobbles, rose) 12:24am

rose: we found them rose: vic finally answered her phone rose: they were at a children's playground eating ice cream

foxyroxy: why?

rose: i dont know, these three are fucking chaotic when they're together around alcohol rose: yet somehow they managed to each buy a single tub of halo top and spoons???

foxyroxy: spoons?

rose: yeah, we're gonna have some new cutlery

foxyroxy: @jamesanator is doing a keg stand, but ill let him and fred know foxyroxy: will you be home soon?

rose: dropping vic off first since she was closest to the park, but after that we're coming straight there

foxyroxy: cool, because i just went upstairs and there are people in your room foxyroxy: and judging by the sounds they're making, they're not sleeping

rose: WHAT!??!

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(Scorpius Malfoy, William Flynn) 1:09am

Scorpius: hey, thanks so much for tonight Scorpius: i would say that they aren't usually like this but that would be a lie

1:28am

William: no worries man William: always happy to help a friend or three :)

Scorpius: sorry ur date didn't pan out

William: nah, it wasn't a date William: besides, i probably spent more time with her driving her home than if she'd stayed at the party

Scorpius: alright well rose is death staring at me so i gotta go Scorpius: thanks again Scorpius: and don't worry, she'll come around eventually

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‘literal chaos fire' (psychiclilz, mollydramatic, VickyBaby) 7:10am

mollydramatic: remind me to move out asap mollydramatic: rose is so annoying in the mornings mollydramatic: *rise and shine, we have to clean* mollydramatic: i feel like im gonna vom

8:34am

psychiclilz: urgh i did vom psychiclilz: and it was blue

mollydramatic: wtf why?

psychiclilz: i had blueberry ice cream last night psychiclilz: remember? psychiclilz: you were so upset you demanded ice cream and since james locked up ur fridge we had to go to the store psychiclilz: and then we got lost psychiclilz: and then rose found us

mollydramatic: oooof mollydramatic: how'd we get home?

psychiclilz: urgh x 2 psychiclilz: flynn psychiclilz: and now scorp won't stop messaging me telling me that i have to at least take him on a date to say thank you

mollydramatic: just my two cents, but that sounds like a fair trade

psychiclilz: not you too

10:52am

VickyBaby: i mean if you're gonna take him on a date at least let us pay for it

mollydramatic: hey, i am not a part of this

psychiclilz: fine, deal

mollydramatic: wow, it's that easy to get you to date this guy? mollydramatic: but just to be clear, why am i paying for any of this?

VickyBaby: because her date was ruined when you coerced us into getting ice cream VickyBaby: and flynn drove us all home instead of having a good time VickyBaby: although @psychiclilz you were real quick to answer that with a yes... VickyBaby: did something happen last night?

psychiclilz: no, i just need scorp off my back psychiclilz: and this way i dont even have to pay

mollydramatic: evil woman

psychiclilz: *lawyer

mollydramatic: *witch

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(micky, vicky) 11:04am

micky: are you buying any of this?

vicky: not a chance vicky: something happened last night, we just have to figure out what

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(Lily Potter, William Flynn) 12:39pm

Lily: hey, sorry about last night Lily: and thank you Lily: again

William: no worries :) William: glad to see ur still alive this morning

Lily: aha, yeah, thanks to you Lily: if you hadn't found us we probably never would've found our way back

William: again, no worries

Lily: i do want to say thank you though Lily: are you free thursday?

William: sorry, i've got practice 6am every weekday William: cant do weekday parties

Lily: oh, uh Lily: i was thinking more low key Lily: we could go to the Three Broomsticks, just hang out? Lily: but like if not i get it, ur busy

William: no, i would love that!

Lily: oh, cool! Lily: my class gets out at 5:20, i can meet you there at 6?

William: great! see u then!

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(Lily Potter, Scorpius Malfoy) 12:56pm

Lily: omg stop spamming me Lily: i asked him to dinner thursday, happy?

Scorpius: :)

Lily: ur a pain Lily: how does rose stand you?

Scorpius: i just asked Scorpius: "he's got a great tongue"

Lily: blech, wtf rose Lily: brb just gonna go bleach my eyeballs Lily: what is wrong with you two?

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(Scorpius Malfoy, William Flynn) 1:12pm

Scorpius: told u she'd come around

William: what?

Scorpius: ur date Scorpius: on thursday Scorpius: i told you she'd come around to the idea

William: thursday isn't a date William: we're just grabbing dinner

Scorpius: ... Scorpius: that's literally what a date is Scorpius: rose agrees - it's a date

William: unless she says that it's a date, im not going into it thinking its a date

Scorpius: where are you guys going?

William: the three broomsticks

Scorpius: its a date

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(micky, vicky) 6:37pm

micky: 1. i hate you for volunteering my money to send her on a date micky: 2. its gonna be so expensive because she's taking him to the three broomsticks micky: 3. omg shes taking him to the three broomsticks!!!! (scorp just told me)

vicky: something totally happened between them

micky: right?!?!?!? micky: ugh, where's my knight in shining armor

vicky: more like football player in a minivan

micky: im not picky

vicky: lol im aware vicky: also evan's pissed at me for ditching him last night vicky: apparently kayleigh ended things with him right before the party

micky: wow, not cool micky: but also, that means he's single right?

vicky: no, i am not setting you up with him vicky: that would be a disaster

micky: wow, rude

vicky: he just got out of a long term thing vicky: he's def not looking to settle down

micky: hey, ill be his rebound micky: hes so hot

vicky: no vicky: and anyways, dating family friends is not a good idea vicky: re: dom still talks to teddy and is trying to get me to unblock her from my phone

micky: dont you dare

vicky: im not going to, but it still sucks vicky: so no, ur not getting his number

micky: buzzkill... micky: rose and malfoy are making it work

vicky: rose and scorpius are also insanely perfect for each other

micky: valid micky: fine, but if he asks about me you cant say no

vicky: *rolls eyes*

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

crawling back to you (Branjie) - ohhthereuare

AN: Inspired by the night they both perform at Micky’s Vanessa gives a guy from the audience a lapdance during the Dreamgirls’ performance and Brooke disappears, and “Do I Wanna Know” by Arctic Monkeys

AO3

It’s funny how many things the reunion has changed. They’ve been dancing around each other for half a year, sometimes taking tentative steps around the edge and sometimes running full speed with their eyes closed only to drag their feet once they have to do the walk of shame to where they came from. Exchanging light jokes that mean nothing except they hold so much truth and real confessions they weight them down like boulders. Everything to avoid putting a label on whatever it is they still have going on. Not enough to stay but too much to let go. But ever since the reunion something has shifted. Maybe it was hearing the words out loud for the first time in a long time, feeling them hang in the air like a thick, dark fog that made Vanessa’s throat close up and Brooke’s eye water. Nothing is ever black or white and it was easier to say they weren’t together any more than to explain that weird emotional in-between state they found themselves in. They were both hurting for different reasons and dealing with it differently. Brooke just added it to the pile of emotional baggage that rested in the corner at the back of her mind.

Brooke’s body was vibrating with adrenaline after the performance and the unbelievable experience of the entire room chanting her name. She felt drunk on it and the two shots of tequila she had had were already making her pleasantly dizzy. She first heard rather than saw Silky and A’keria making their way to the back of the stage to start their number, Vanessa trailing behind them in a similar outfit to theirs, made out of the same fabric but each had their own silhouette that worked best with their bodies. She looked gorgeous with the exposed shoulder, and the strawberry blonde wig worked so nicely with her cinnamon-colored skin. The Dreamgirls took their places. Vanessa, as if she could physically feel someone looking at her, turned and their eyes met. She looked a little nervous, a little out of it, even given the fragile state they’ve been in for a while. Destiny’s Child started blasting through the speakers and Brooke watched as the queens began the performance. Suddenly she understood what she was about to witness. Seeing the three chairs in the middle of the stage made her stomach drop.

She turned on her heel, wanting to get away from that place as soon as possible. She knew she was not being fair, technically she had no right to be jealous. Wasn’t that what she wanted though? To be free to flirt with whoever she wanted. Vanessa had the same right. She could perform lap dances in front of every guy in the club and take home whoever she wanted and it was none of Brooke’s business. The rational side of her brain did nothing to stop the nauseating wave of anxiety sending cold chills down her spine. She called an Uber back to the hotel and waited in front of the club, the music and sounds of people whistling and yelling echoing through the night. She could only imagine what kind of a show was everyone cheering for at the moment and the hands of some faceless guy from the audience touching Vanessa, making use of the opportunity of the performance. She has never wished to have a pack of cigarettes on her more in her life.

The hotel all the queens were staying in was nice, even if it was just for one night. They were all down the hall from each other, the entire floor at their disposal. It was quiet now, with all the queens still at the club. Brooke felt almost mad at herself for not staying, knowing all of them were supposed to come out together at the end but she knew she wouldn’t have been able to look Vanessa in the eye, especially if there had been already another man on her arm. The sound of her heels got muted by the thick carpet and she didn’t even bother taking them off when she made her way to the bag resting under the table. The pack of cigarettes was already empty halfway through, even though she had promised herself to quit. She had bought it the day after the reunion, saying it was only for emergency situations. She lit the end of the cigarette and the tip flared up in the color of sunsets and their Orange Alert looks. She always loved taking the first drag, hearing the quiet sizzle and feeling the bitter taste settling on her tongue. After she was done she started getting out of drag. Her palms smelled like smoke and hotel soap when she was scrubbing her face clean from the makeup and it reminded her of all the nights they got to share in the past when she was doing the same thing, only with Vanessa sitting on the bed, already shirtless and soft between the sheets, complaining about Brooke’s smoking and tasting like ash but kissing her afterwards nevertheless.

When she finally got under the covers she knew she wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon. The clock on the bedside table read 2:36 am already and the silence was deafening, almost louder than Brooke’s own thoughts. She was wondering what Vanessa was doing at the moment and with whom. If she had been scanning the crowd the moment she had arrived at the club to choose who she wanted to pick for the lap dance before the performance even began. If the guy fell for it and was shamelessly flirting with her, buying her drinks and making sweet promises to get her to sleep with him. Or maybe he didn’t even need to, maybe she wanted to take him to the hotel room with her all along. If Brooke would hear them walking down the corridor, Vanessa’s voice nothing but a purr as she let his hands roam over her exposed legs and—

Quiet footsteps echoed down the hall, slow, tentative, barely there but Brooke already knew who they belonged to and that there was only one person walking. She jumped out of the bed before she could stop herself before she realized it was probably a very bad idea and she didn’t know what she even wanted to do. When she opened the door she didn’t expect Vanessa to already be standing there, holding her heels in her hands, the glittery trail of her dress pooling by her bare feet.

“What’re you doing?”

“What are you doing?”

“Going to my room, bitch.”

“And stopping outside of my room?”

“And you just had to open them doors right as I was passing them.”

“I heard someone. Didn’t know it was you.”

“Why d’ya leave so early? Didn’t even wait till the end of the show.”

“I wasn’t feeling great.” The second lie didn’t roll off her tongue as easily as the first one.

“You missed our performance.”

“Yeah sorry. And what a performance it was.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Nothing. I just hope you enjoyed it. I bet the guy you were grinding on did.”

“You didn’t even see shit so how d’ya know?”

“You’re right, I—”

“Is that why you left early? So you didn’t have to watch some other guy get it on with me in front of everybody since you didn’t want to?”

That struck a chord and Vanessa knew it but she seemed to have had it. There was a new fire burning in her eyes, fueled by hurt and betrayal, one she couldn’t contain anymore and Brooke hated that she was the one that put it there but she couldn’t tell her that. Couldn’t use the words that would explain everything she was truly feeling. Brooke felt so frustrated with herself for not being able to work through whatever was stopping her from enjoying this wonderful thing that they had had, for not being able to appreciate what Vanessa wanted to give her, for choosing to try to kill it herself to make it hurt less now instead of having to watch it possibly die in the future. She was also frustrated and mad at Vanessa for making it so hard to move on, for all the times she’d let Brooke kiss her since they called it off, for wanting something Brooke didn’t want to, couldn’t give her.

“Who said I didn’t want to?”

“You did, bitch. You did when you said we had to end this thing. You can’t eat the cookie and have the cookie, B, not this time. Being sneaky was cute when we was on the show but it’s different now and I can’t keep doing it like that, not when I still—”

“Why didn’t you invite the guy over?”

“You know why.”

“You could have. You can do whatever you want and I can’t stop you, you know that. You deserve someone better. You deserve the world. You deserve to move on.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to move on.”

Vanessa dropped her heels to the floor and huffed out in frustration. She looked so small, being a head shorter than Brooke. She took a step closer towards the other queen, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. The dim light from the hallway’s wall sconces caught on the dark sequins of her dress when she shuffled her feet.

“Do you want to move on?”

Brooke took that final step to close the distance between them, placed her hands on Vanessa’s jaw and pulled her in for a kiss. Vanessa tasted like tequila and Brooke still had the ashy aftertaste from the cigarettes on her tongue but neither cared. They stumbled back into Brooke’s room, their lips still on each other, hands already finding their familiar places on the other’s body. The kiss held the answer to the question still hanging in the air but asked way too many in return. They had the entire tour ahead of them to figure them out. For now, though, they had the night and each other. It was a good start.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #angst #fluff #ohhthereuare #submission #tour fic #canon compliant

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androcola · 5 years

Text

Papa nez' blues (pt 2 to that one thing)

Mike laid on the couch staring at the ceiling, hands crossed and resting on his stomach, the thought of playing guitar crossed his mind but he couldn't even stand to look at an instrument right now.. it only made him think of how he would never be able to achieve his dream of going to the top with his band..

He was alone, the pad was empty and all was quiet, except the occasional noise of a neighbor in the next apartment room.. he had tried to sleep but just had too much on his mind.. he really didn't want to lose the pad, he and his bandmates had far too many memories here.. but if they couldn't get a gig they'd be evicted for not being able to pay the rent.

With only one month of rent money left Mike was beyond stressed, he waited for the others to get back with any news at all, the sound of silence throughout the pad was becoming deafening and he didn't know why..

Mike sat up and hunched over, holding his face in his hands he sighed and just sat.. he didn't know what to do... More and more thoughts filled his head and he he tried not to give them even a second thought but he couldn't help it.. soon enough the sound of his own thoughts was overpowering the silence and they seemed to get louder and louder with every passing one.. he pulled his head up and stared blankly at the floor and then up to the large bay window at which they practice..

A drum set, a guitar leaning against the wall, a bass with a banjo laying beside it and a pair of maracas lie before the window.. almost mockingly....

He turned his attention to his guitar, his 12 string gretsch leaned against the wall gently.. he just stared... Maybe he should pick it up and play.. maybe it'll help him feel better..

After a few minutes of just staring at his guitar he decided against playing and laid back down, he just didn't have the energy... Suddenly the sound of a car doors closing caught his attention.. he waited...

Sure enough, the door opened up and in walked Davy, Micky and Peter.

"Well that was a bummer.." Micky said, disappointed.

"Don't worry! We can try again tomorrow!.." Davy reassured him.

Mike stood up and looked at Davy. "Well? How did it go? Did we get a gig?.."

Davy looked at Mike, he still looked very tired, there was no doubt in his mind that he hadn't slept today..

"Well.. not yet!.. but that's okay! Theres always tomorrow!.. we'll find a place soon!"

Mike sunk back onto the couch in disappointment and laid his head in his hands.. "Of course.." he said sadly..

Suddenly, Micky hops over the back of the couch and lands onto the cushion next to Mike and puts his arm around him.

"C'mon! Don't get upset yet! We've still got other places to go to! And if we can't find any places to go to I'm sure we can just call someone!"

Mike spoke, his voice muffled by his hands. "And get rejected over the phone, too?.."

Davy sat on the opposite end of the couch and patted Mikes leg.

"Come on, now, quit worrying.. we'll find a place sooner or later! We just have to keep going at it!.."

Mike lifted his head from his hands and spoke, this time in a more frustrated tone.

"I'd love to quit worryin', Davy, but with one month left of rent money I ain't got much else I can do but worry!... Our lives are on the line, here... Either we find a gig within the month or we're out and there's nothin' else to it!..." He laid his head back down in his hands..

"Well why don't you let us worry about that stuff for you? You've done enough already!.." Micky said, nudging mikes arm.

Mike lifted his head once again. "I don't want you to worry about somethin' that I'm supposed to be doin'.. as the band leader it's my job to deal with gigs.."

Peter spoke up. "Well.. if it makes you feel any better, I think you're really good at worrying."

Mike rested his chin in his hands. "Gee.... Thanks, Pete.." He knew Peter wanted him to be happy..

Davy put his hand on Mikes shoulder. "Well.. I know it's your job but can't it be ours for just a little while? You've done enough, you're going to run yourself into the ground before too long!.. Take a load off and put the load on us for a while!.."

Mike looked at Davy, only to meet his kind and sincere gaze.. thoughts crossed through his mind.. was this a good idea? would any of this work out in the end?..

"... Okay.." mike said quietly.. "I'll... Try to stop worryin' about it.." he knew he couldn't stop worrying but he'll try for Davy and the others..

Davy patted Mike on the back.. "Wonderful!.. now what do you say we watch some TV?.."

"Yea!!" Micky said enthusiastically.

Davy got up and turned the knobs on the TV to find a good channel and Peter came and sat on the couch with them..

Half way through watching TV mike was already falling asleep, he was exhausted and hadn't been sleeping good these past few days due to his concern with gigs and money.

That night his worries kept him awake yet again, but he figured that instead of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling all night again that he would get up and walk outside for some fresh air.

He put on his robe and a pair of house slippers and crept quietly out of his room and down the spiral staircase.

He turned the front door knob very carefully and closed the door behind him gently.

He descended down the step which lead up to the building and stepped on to the beach, living on the beach usually meant warm humid air during the night, but the sound of the water gently swaying was very calming. Mike sat down in an open folding chair and watched the moonlight sparkle on the water, he couldn't help but smile a little, it was quite beautiful and calming, lord knows he needed something to ease his mind..

He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and listened to the water, he knew that he'd have to go back in soon but for now he tried to relax like Davy had told him many times..

The sound of the swaying water was enough to put him out of his own mind for a second, but of course good things never last long.. he started thinking of how great it is to live on such a beautiful beach and that it may all be taken away soon..

He pulled his head back down and opened his eyes, realizing that he had zoned out.. that will probably be the most rest he'll get for now..

He walked back in and crept back to his room and laid down again for the night.. after a bit more tossing and turning he finally found sleep.. it was like 2 seconds had gone by when he woke up to the sound of cheering.. Cheering? At this time of night?

He sat up and rubbed his eyes and looked up, realizing it was day time he was quite disappointed.. he almost didn't want to get out of bed but he had to see what was going on down stairs. He got dressed and stopped by the bathroom to fix his hair and do other things and then walked downstairs.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes "What on earth is goin' on down here? Do y'all know what time it is?..." He looked up to see it was 3 in the afternoon... He had slept for quite a while.. did he sleep? He couldn't tell..

Suddenly, Davy ran up to him, he looked like an excited puppy.

"Mike! Mike! You won't believe this! We've done it! We've done it!.."

Mike scratched his head.. "Done what?..." He looked over to see Micky and Peter hugging eachother and jumping up and down.. was it somebodys birthday?..

Davy grabbed Mikes arms and smiled. "We've got a gig, Mike! We've got a gig!!.. a week long gig out of town, Mike!.. $200 a day!..."

Mike just stood and stared in disbelief.. this had to be a dream.. this is too good to be real... If it was a dream he never wanted to wake up..

"You're kiddin'.... Tell me this is a joke.. you're all messin' with me.."

Peter cocked his brow. "Wait... Is this a joke?.. is this real?... Is anything real?.."

Micky ran up to Mike and hugged him tightly and bounced up and down.

"We did it! We did it! This is it, baby! We're back baby! We're goin' to the top!!.."

Mike just couldn't believe what was happening.. they'll be able to pay the rent, they'll be able to stay at the pad.. he almost wanted to cry..

"I told you we could do it! You worried your green little hat off for nothing! Isn't that gr-" Davy was cut off when Mike hugged him, almost picking him up.

"Oh, Davy I could just kiss you!"

Davy chuckled. "Well you're not the only one!.... Well what do you say we start rehearsing? We've got a big show next week, after all!.."

"Yea! Let's start rehearsin', fellas!.." Mike said enthusiastically

Davy was beyond happy to see Mike back to his old self.. he looked down and then back at Mike...

"Well first you've got to put me down.."

Mike realized that he was still holding Davy and laughed.

"Right, right!.." He set Davy down and they all assumed their positions.

Micky sat at his drum set, Davy picked up his maracas, Peter grabbed his bass and Mike picked up his 12 string.

"Ready fellas?.. a-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four!.."

#the monkees #writing #watch this get no reblogs or any notes like the first part to this

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warmau · 6 years

Text

{Special} College!AU Dowoon

major: character animation

minor: film

clubs: frequents any club he finds interesting, but is never a permanent member. has done everything from surfing club to painting club to opera club

sports: did freshman soccer and then schoolwork took over his life LOL

dowoon is super chill - like he’s never ,,,, stressing out or getting super passionate about anything

he always has the same “life is good” expression on his handsome face and it makes people feel really comfortable around him

because he doesn’t seem like the judgmental or fake type

he doesn’t even have to try to make friends,,,,people gravitate toward him like he’s got some calm magnetic field

jae doesn’t get it - he thinks dowoon can be a real little shit sometimes (but jae thinks this about EVERYONE so,,,,)

while wonpil on the other hand flat out ADORES dowoon

nudges past youngk to sit next to dowoon when they’re eating lunch or running halfway across the quad just to say hi to him

wonpil just points at him like “my tall son”

and dowoon is like “im not your son, but do whatever makes you happy hyung”

the animation majors nicknamed dowoon the koala because he kind of does everything pretty leisurely, but at the same time look serene as hell

also whenever someone draws a koala they give it that calm look on its face,,,,,much like the always calm look on dowoons face

dowoon thinks its cute

but wonpil argues that dowoon is WAY more of a sloth than he is a koala

he choose character animation because he likes cartoons,,,,especially really silly cartoons

youngk or sungjin are always reading those dramatic webtoons or whatever but dowoon enjoys comic strips for quick, funny jokes

and he was always way more of a dreamer than a devoted student,,,doodling cute characters in the margins of his notes rather than jotting down his homework

traditional art like painting and sculpting were never in his interest either

quite honestly he’d snooze whenever his class had to take trips to museums or when he had to take the class on human anatomy sketching

thankfully people liked him enough to nudge him awake when the teacher was looking LOL

he added film as a minor only because he’s interested in story boarding - a lot of his homework is actually done by wonpil and youngk who have vast opinions on cinema

while dowoon is like “uhuh, mhmm, oh ok i should right that in my essay? oh,,,,wait,,,you want to write my essay for me? i mean,,,well only if you want to,,,,”

is the drummer of night6 and decorated the back of his kit with small drawings

everytime someone points them out dowoon is like “i dont know how they got there ^_^”

totally a college student who owns a mickie mouse sweatshirt

totally owns mickie mouse pajamas that he wore to seminar once

messy haired boy with an even messier backpack

“hey,,,prof,,,i left my sketchbook back at the dorm!”

“did you bring anything to class dowoon?”

“,,,,,,,, my sticks,,,,,for drumming?”

you see what i mean

but it’s like lovable he’s like messy, dorky, and loveable

because he might not get his work in on time,,,,but he sure as hell gets his work in

and the glints of passion you can see on dowoon are secluded in his dorm room when he’s drawing

or when he’s on stage drumming

got a love letter from a fan once at a concert and wonpil was like ooooo romance~ love~ whats it say~

and dowoon was like

“it says i remind them of a bean sprout because im getting skinny and i shouldnt lose so much weight”

wonpil: “THATS touchig they care about your hea-”

dowoon: “THERES A DISCOUNT TO A CHICKEN PLACE IN HERE WOOOOOOOOO”

you know the rest of his friends are all like,,,,thinking a little about romance and love - wonpil is literally bursting with it while jae acts like he doesn’t care but lowkey writes all their songs about being lonely

youngk and sungjin too,,,,

but dowoon seems to think of romance as the last thing he’d ever need in his life right now

when people ask about relationships he assumes they’re asking about his friendships

and whenever someone shows interest dowoon reciprocates with absolute obliviousness

he’s just a fun-loving dude who likes to doodle and take naps in the library,,,,,,

that’s all he needs

and those naps in the library are how you meet dowoon

you work in the library, mostly just re-shelving and helping students find textbooks on reserve

you envy the people who got desk jobs checking out books or helping with laptops,,,,,but at the same time you don’t mind the walking around

it helps clear your mind

and one afternoon,,,,you were stuck in the least visited section of the library

there were new books to shelve so you were trying to figure out where they belonged when your foot caught on something

and you almost ended up tumbling over whatever it was,,,,,,stopping yourself from face planting into the floor just in the nick of time

flipping over, you expected to see - a book,,,,a water bottle,,,someones backpack or something

but instead you saw a person

a boy,,,,,,with his legs stretched out and his head leaned back against the shelf

dead asleep

after a moment,,,you clear your throat and the boy jolts a bit

only to rub his sleepy eyes and give you a half smile

“is the library closing?”

he asks with a yawn

you deadpan “no, but you’re also not allowed to sleep in the bookshelf aisles.”

he doesn’t even seem to budge in response,,,,just stares at you with pool of dark brown

“oh”

oh????? is that all he has to say????

“and i just tripped over you, so you can see how it’d be a hazard-”

he slowly gets up, moving one limb at a time before he extends his hand to you

“sorry,,,,,,,,,ill help you up.”

you stare at his outstretched hand,,,but narrow your eyes and get up without his help

dusting off your shirt you give him a glare,,,,,to which he responds with the same dreamy half smile

“you can sleep in the student lounge on the second floor.”

with that you turn, taking your cart of books with you to continue your job

out of the corner of your eye you see the boy scratch the side of his head,,,,blink without thought at the things around him and then make his way out to of the aisle

you untense your shoulders,,,,,sighing

maybe you were too harsh or whatever,,,,but rules are rules and if anyone saw you letting him get away with it - it’d be your job on the line

although maybe you could have been less cold,,,,,

you shrug it off, not interested anymore in a student who you don’t even recognize as you continue working

you make your way over to the next aisle and just as you’re about to pluck a book of the cart you look down and

there’s the same boy

sleeping

you straighten up,,,,staring at the top of his messy dark hair

you clear your throat,,,,but he doesn’t wake up

so you squat down beside him and use your index finger to poke him awake

he does the same little jolt and then turns to you

“hey”

“what did i say about sleeping in the aisles?”

he shrugs, giving the same goofy look to you

“it’s a hazard?”

you resist the urge to go “no shit” and instead motion for him to get up

he does as told,,,,but gives you another half tired smile

“would it be cool if i went back to the aisle you finished shelving? i wont be a bother-”

“no”

he huffs, but the smile never leaves his face

he doesn’t seem fazed by your demands,,,,nor does he seem like he’s going to follow the rules

so you personally walk with him to the staircase and tell him again that the student lounge is free

he thanks you,,,,,,,,which makes you feel a little weird,,,,,and then disappears

you think about it for a bit,,,,,he looks like a slacker - or maybe he’s just the skipping class type

either way,,,,,,you hope you won’t find him in the next aisle

you dont,,,,,thankfully but when you arrive for your shift a couple of days later

you’re back in the same lonely part of the library

and just as you’re about to wheel your cart of books ,,,,, guess who you see

except this time,,,,he’s got a book over his face - as if he dropped it there right as he closed his eyes to sleep

you look at him,,,,crossing your arms

beside him is his open backpack,,,the contents threatening to spill out

his hair is a little messy and peaks out from the book on his face and his pull over hoodie is thrown over his lap like some tiny blanket

you think for a moment that he must have been napping here for a while when you finally decide to lean over and poke him awake again

the books slides off his face and into his lap with a thump

he blink, coming to and then looks over at you

“oh,,,,,,,hey.”

he grins, you take note of his deep voice still laced with sleepyness

“didn’t i tell you a couple of days ago-”

he picks up the book and waves it

“i wasn’t sleeping,,,,i just,,,,dozed off while reading. i can read in the aisles right? that’s not a hazard?”

he innocently asks as you narrow your eyes

“listen,,,,,,i know you were sleeping”

he shrugs his shoulders up and down

“why cant you find somewhere else to take naps-”

you stutter over your sentence,,,,not sure even what this guys name is

“im dowoon, character design major.”

he puts his hand out for you to shake it and you stare at it

“ok, dowoon. you need to find other nap spots.”

he shuffles his hand around his bag and pulls out a tattered looking notebook

“i wont nap, i promise. ill just do some work and then i can stay, right?”

he flips it open to a random page where you can see multiple sketches and notes of different characters

technically,,,,students CAN study in the aisles of the library,,,,,there’s no rule against that

so you nod, going back to your cart of books

dowoon twirls a pencil between his fingers as if to send you off and then looks back down at his notebook

you go about your work,,,,but somewhere in the middle you get the nagging feeling to go check if dowoon really is working or did he rally go to sleep

so,,,,,,,you make your way down the shelves until you reach the one dowoon is in

and to your surprise he isn’t sleeping,,,,he’s actually drawing

and before you can make your quiet escape,,,,,he looks up and smiles

“wanna see what ive done so far?”

you feel a little embarrassed that you were caught,,,,but you nod and dowoon beckons you over

you sit down beside him and he shows you the new page of sketches he’s started

you stare down at one of them, it’s a bookshelf that seems to have come to life and beside it is a character

who looks familiar,,,,,

“that ones based on you,,,,,,i tend to be inspired by those around me.” dowoon says absentmindenly

and you look closer,,,,,shocked that even in such a small cartoonish drawing - there are details about it that do resemble you

you’ve only seen dowoon a couple of times but you’re shocked that he could remember just how you looked and compress it into such a cute drawing

you look up at him and he pushes the pencil behind his ear,,,seemingly content with what he’s gotten done

“well,,,,,as long as you’re not sleeping.”

dowoon nods, taking his book back “nope, plus i have class. see you around.”

he slips it into his bag before getting up and waving as he disappears out of the shelves

you sit there,,,,still thinking about the drawing,,,,,,and how maybe you had misconceptions about him afterall

dowoon does show up to the library again and again

but this time he doesn’t nap,,,,,he actually just spends time drawing

which you actually come to really enjoy

he’s got such a simple, but fun style and he’s always willing to show you new sketches

and instead of him being that student who might get you in trouble,,he becomes someone you really look forward to seeing on your job

and after a bit of time,,,,you think dowoon feels the same way

just from how excitable he gets when you ask to see something and the cute smile he gives you when you push the cart past the aisle he’s in

in one way or another - you feel connected to dowoon,,,,you guys up in this section of the library,,,,,,,just the two of you

plus,,,,,,,,when you catch him sleeping again you let it slide - maybe because you’re sorta friends now

but also because you notice just how handsome he is when he’s asleep, pretty long eyelashes resting on the skin of his cheeks and the slightly curled dark hair that falls a bit into his eyes when he tips his head forward

but then,,,,,,,you come to work one day and dowoon is sitting in the aisle,,,,,,with someone else

they’re flipping through his notebook, giggling and pressing their shoulder against dowoon’s

you don’t know why,,,,but it makes you feel a bit ,, out of place

dowoon looks up just as you try to escape and calls you over

“i drew some more stuff for my class final, that character you like is in-”

you give a curt nod,,,,,,,and dowoon seems to falter when you turn away and shove your cart out of the aisle

but,,,,,,,he doesn’t follow you or anything

and when you find yourself aggravated,,,re-shelving books with way too much force then intentional

you ask,,,,,,,,what are you so upset over?

it’s probably a classmate,,,or a friend,,,,,,or a significant other

the thought of dowoon being with someone isn’t that baffling when he’s got this odd, calming charm to him

with a great face as an addition

but yet when you go up there the next day and dowoon is alone,,,,even then you don’t feel the urge to talk to him

but,,,,cold-shouldering dowoon is hard

not because you feel bad but because,,,,,after you ignore him for a whole week he just,,,,doesn’t show up anymore

and you think well whatever, right? now he’s gone and it’s not like you two bonded deeply or anything

but instead of dowoon in the aisle,,,,you find,,,,,,,,,,,

“im wonpil, you must be the one we’ve been hearing about.”

you look at the guy in front of you,,,,he’s definitely shorter than dowoon and his eyes have a different passion about them

“um,,,,im not sure what you mean?”

wonpil throws his hands up in the air and goes “dowoon! he hasn’t stopped talking about how he made one of the librarians mad! he’s all mopey about it too!”

you hush wonpil, his voice getting louder and remind him that this is still a library

and if anything you aren’t mad at dowoon,,,,you just had to work - this is your job after all

but wonpil doesn’t falter

even in a whispering tone, you can tell he’s still strung up about this

“WELL dowoon thinks you are mad! and believe me, dowoon doesn’t much care about how people feel about it him so you must mean something special.”

you open your mouth to argue but wonpil shakes his head

“no no you don’t GET IT- sorry indoor voice right,,,,,but dowoon has never shown an inkling of interest in anyone before,,,,,you’re,,,,,,you’re the first person he’s ever based a character on too didn’t-”

you pull back a bit, surprised “but,,,he told me he’s inspired by those around him?”

wonpil shakes his head, “inspired sure - but he specifically said he created that little cartoon to see if you’d like it. dowoon draws for himself, i cant even BEG him to make a little doodle for me but for you he’s-”

wonpil is talking a mile a minute and tbh most of it is going over your head at this point

because you don’t understand,,,,,,,you thought you were just another person to dowoon

just that librarian who nagged him before for sleeping in the aisles - but,,,,but now all of a sudden this random friend of dowoons is telling you ,,,,you’re something more??

“please just assure me you’re not mad at him.”

“im not,,,,,” you clutch your books closer to your chest and wonpil sighs

“ok. good. ill tell him and hopefully this is the beginning of something beautiful. gosh i just want dowoon to be in LOVE ALREADY”

you hush him and wonpil quiets down as he pulls his phone out and exits the aisle

you stand there for a bit,,,,,,,,but then turn to ask what the heck wonpil means by ‘love’ but,,,he’s gone

and although the whole thing stays on your mind,,,,work takes all of your attention

and when your shift at the library ends, you’re walking back to the main building of the college to get some late night studying done

when you hear someone call your name

you turn to see dowoon

he looks like he’s just rolled out of bed,,,,wearing baggy overalls over a shirt you’re sure he’s owned for the better part of his life

he’s also got house slippers on which confuses you,,,,,,,did he like,,,,,run here in those?

“wonpil said he talked to you,,” dowoon starts

you nod slowly

“sorry he’s such a weirdo,,,he acts like my mom sometimes and i dont get it ,,,,”

you look down and wait for dowoon to get to the point - the point as to why he’s here after your shift in his damn pajamas for all you know

“he said you’re not mad at me,,,,so i hope i can ask you this and it’s ok,,,,,,,,,do you have time this weekend?”

“why?”

“the animation major is having a film festival thing and i wondered if you’d want to see mine,,,it’s really short like,,,,a minute and a half but y-you’re in it so,,,,”

the shock must be apparent on your face because dowoon is like oh but you don’t have to-

but you agree

you tell dowoon to tell you when and where and you’ll be there

but just as dowoon finishes giving you the details, he seems to want to ask something else

but you hurry off before he can

and the entire time you try to study you keep thinking about what dowoon means,,,,,,,you’re in his movie?

the film festival is really small, it fills up only one of the classrooms but it is filled to the brim

dowoon is surrounded by a group of fellow students, you recognize one of them as the person who was sitting with him in the book aisle

but you try to not let it bug you as you take one of the “free snacks” offered on a tiny table in the corner

dowoon only spots you when the films are about to start and he’s pulled away by a professor before he can come and say hi

you sit there, watching all the different cute films made by all the students

and they’re all amazing, you’ve never been much of an animation fan but the effort put into this works is amazing

and then,,,,,you see dowoon’s name flash across the screen

‘the magic of the library’ is the name of his piece

and it starts off with a character asleep in one of the aisles - until the walking bookshelf accompanied by the character who resembles you wakes him up

and taking his hand,,,,,,,,shows him the wonder of the library

dancing books, spinning desks, computers flashing with smiley faces

and you look at the characters - that are so obviously you and dowoon holding hands

and when it ends,,,,it is as short as he says,,,,,,you catch dowoon’s eye

he flusters when the clapping starts but you see that he’s got doubt on his face - an emotion you’ve never seen

and so,,,,without thinking

you make way through the students and up to dowoon

“did you like i-”

he starts, but you just lean up and press your lips to his cheek

the boys around him all gasp and dowoon turns to color of a lobster but goes

“i,,,im glad you liked it,,,,,,”

“and you! THEY LIKE YOU DOWOON!”

wonpil’s familiar voice comes from your right and everyone in the room goes “SHHH” as the next film starts

you take dowoon’s hand and he squeezes it as you two make your way out of the cramped room

and dowoon goes

“can you kiss me again, sorry i just want to know it happened.”

and you do it

but then dowoon chuckles and go, “sorry - again. i want to feel it again.”

and you’re like boy stop playing around

BUT it’s cute because now you and dowoon know your mutual feelings and,,,,,even though wonpil will probably not shuttup about it if you two go back in there

you’re content with that

but also wonpil’s like wanna ditch this festival and go on a date? and you’re like wont you get in trouble with your professor?

and dowoon shrugs like “it’s worth it”

dating dowoon is a lot of just,,,,,,doing normal things together

and wonpil absolutely LOSING IT over how cute you two are

like you’ll just be sharing a drink and wonpil has tears down his face like dowoon,,,,im so happy for you,,,,,,

it’s wild - but you get used to it

dowoon is a drifter - he likes trying new things but never gets attached to them for too long

like he’ll invite you to this club he found on campus about flower arrnging

and you’ll be like it was super fun! and dowoon is like mhmm, next week lets try rockclimbing

which you’re not really opposed to,,,,dowoon looks like the laze at home type but the reality is that he is super curious and likes to learn whatever he can

which you love about him

it’s always an adventure,,,,,,,,but that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to just cuddling on a rainy afternoon and ordering food online

but - with you it’s different for dowoon

he is in it for the long run and he values your interests a lot,,,,,,,

which is new for him, aside from night6, he’s not really close to anyone

but you are the center of his world,,,,,what you like - he’ll like too because he does wanna support you

and when he asked youngk for fashion advice for one of your dates youngk was so shocked he asked jae if dowoon had a twin brother or something like was this really happening

dowoon is still dreamy though

you guys will be walking somewhere from class and he’ll see one dog across campus and be like i gotta go pet it

even if he’s late for a class

and you have to be like no no no come here e have to go to class and dowoon is like but :( puppy :(

sometimes you’re the only thing keeping him on track to graduating LOL

you also really like watching dowoon practice the drums

he’ll always try to get you to play something and you’re like i cant and he’s like it’s easy to smack the drums

and you’re like thats not how it works babe

and he’s like that’s what ive been doing and it’s been working SO

dowoon doodles you in his notebook but is too embarrassed to show you

you are dowoon’s first real serious relationship and so sometimes he’s a little clutzy with romance but you don’t mind

especially when he gets shy about trying new things ,,,,,, physically

but it’s dowoon - with his big warm body and cute as hell face

in your head you’re like he could do anything to me and id be fine with it but ofc dont say that outloud because the one time you did dowoon almost had a heatstroke

you wear anything that shows skin. dowoon goes into a blushing frenzy

wonpil was convinced before you that dowoon didn’t have the capacity to be jealous

but one time when wonpil was leaning his head against your shoulder and being you know,,,,wonpil

and dowoon literally picked him up and dragged him away

you: oh so strong

dowoon: <3

wonpil: dowoon. dowoon put me down. dowOON

also you don’t really know it but dowoon thinks that a lot of the stuff you do is super adorable

like you once told him you love the library because you love the smell of new books

and he was like,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,you’re the cutest person ever

and you were like hmm and he was like nothing huh books right

dowoon is a sucker for you combing your fingers through his hair,,,,any chance at it he’s like head in your lap and you’re like ok ok i know what you want

for your first anniversary for 100 days he forgot to get flowers so he drew a photo of some flowers and was like,,,,,,is this ok

and you were like ,,,,, how are you so darn cute

still gets fan letters professing love to him and he’s like oh. now i get it they like me and jae is like yeah dude

but dowoon shrugs and is like too bad im taken

dowoon couple matching bracelets (which wonpil is jealous off and wont admit it)

dowoon is the type of love that seems simple and sweet but the reality is that dowoon has never had someone special

and having you has really changed his outlook on life,,,,,like it’s dramatic and sappy to say that

but he’s grown because of falling in love with you and tbh when you ask him

when was the moment he started liking you

he shyly admits that he thought you scolding him in the library for sleeping was super cute

and you’re like what how

and he’s like i like,,,,someone who tells me what to do

you, blushing : o-oh ,,,,,this is good information trjkdlsfj

dowoon lets you wear his hoodie and ur like u should wear one too its cold

and hes like babe,,,,if im being honest,,,,the one you’re wearing is the only clean one i have,,,,,right now,,,,,,,

date: you and dowoon at the school laundromat with him sketching to pass the time and you reading

but you look up every now and then to see if the machine is done and also to kiss when no one else is around ,,,,,,,,,,cute

he’s a soft boyfriend who thinks of a cute nickname for you but is too nervous and shy to say it outloud so he writes it down on a piece of paper and shows it to sungjin

and sungjin is like “you’re nervous to call your own significant other,,,,,,,honey?”

dowoon, ears red: “i dont want to come off corny like you sungjin”

#day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 au #dowoon scenarios #dowoon imagines #dowoon au #day6 dowoon #sfw #day6 #dowoon #im wonpil through this whole thing

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ghoulboyboos · 6 years

Note

fic prompt: magic shenanigans. do with that what you will. could be a crack-ish fic, if you so please!

Okay I wasn’t sure where to go with this but I havenever written a Hogwarts AU before so I hope it’s okay. (They’rethe same age here because otherwise you never interact in thisschool, it seems.)

Ryan stares at the page and tries to recall if he hadalready added the worms wart or not. A double dose would probablydestroy his cauldron and he just bought a new one.

Hesheepishly glances at his classmates. Potions classes weren’t tooterrible for Hufflepuffs, because thanks to Professor Sprout, theyknew at least half the ingredients they work with. Still, it doesn’thelp that his mind is somewhere else. He’s thinking about theupcoming Quidditch game and about the Christmas party and … well.Ryan looks up.

The boynext to him is frowning at his cauldron which has started to spit outorange and green bubbles. Ryan suppresses a snort. Shane has been hisbest friend since they met in first year in the Hogwarts Express andstarted chatting excitedly about what was waiting ahead. Ryan haddescribed himself “half-and-half”, meaning one of his parents wasa muggle and Shane had cheerily stated that the only other magicalperson in his family is his grandmother who had basically thanked allheavens because Shane’s siblings were muggles and she had thoughtshe would never have a grandchild that went to Hogwarts.

Eventhough they ended up in different houses, they spent a lot of timewith one another. After the second wizard war, the houses had sortof… melded together a bit. There was still some good naturedrivalry between them, but the hostility had faded under the terror ofwhat these splits could cause. Shane loved to hang out in theHufflepuff common room, mostly because he hated to take the stars allthe way up to the Ravenclaw tower. But one evening, when he had beenhalf asleep, he had whispered that the main reason why he liked tohang out there was, that it felt very much like Ryan’s home. And heloved to spend time with Ryan.

TheHufflepuff boy had tried not to think too much about it. Year six wastough, there was a lot to learn, a lot to prepare for and a lot ofnew subjects. He really tried to focus. And yet…

“Shane?”

Shanelooks up from his cauldron. He has poured the Unicorn milk in thereand the potion is a bit too thick compared to the goal, but at leastthe bubbles have stopped.

“Doyou remember if I put the worm wart in this?”

“Uh.I didn’t pay attention.”

“Shit,neither did I.”

Shanechuckles. Then, he pauses and his face lights up. Ryan can basicallysee an idea pop into his head.

“What?”

Shanewinks at him – which always makes Ryan kind of fluttery – andtake his hand. Ryan is about to protest when Shane brings up hisfingers and sniffs them. It’s so weird that Ryan is just…standing there, kind of frozen as he stares at Shane.

“Youdid.”

“Wh-how?”

“Wormwart stinks to high heaven. I never get that off of my fingers.”

“Oh.”

Ryanstares at his hand after Shane let it go.

“Thankyou.”

“Noproblem.”

Shanegrins and drops the elderberry in, mutters something – Ryanrealizes it’s not a spell, it’s just Shane saying “Please forthe love of Peeve’s stupid hat let this work.” - and spits in thebrew.

Thesmell of mint spreads around them and Shane punches both hands to theceiling in silent celebration. Ryan golf-claps, trying to hold hisbright smile back.

“HeyRyan?” Shane asks one evening over a match of wizard chess.

“Hm?”Ryan nudges his pawn to smash Shane’s knight into pieces. Shaneisn’t paying attention, clearly.

“Doyou want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Ryanglances up.

“Sure?What did you have in mind?”

Shanesmiles.

“It’sa surprise.”

Hogsmeadeis cold and snowed in but beautiful. Ryan is laughing as Shane shovesa long, way-too-colorful hat over his ears and lets the pompom on topbounce. He looks ridiculous and Ryan’s face feels oddly warm.

Theygrab a butterbeer each and wander around the village afterwards.Somewhere between the center and the outskirts, Shane has snuck hishis hand into Ryan’s and Ryan has pointedly ignored any chance tocomment on it.

Shanehasn’t yet let up what the surprise is and Ryan is getting a littlenervous. But Shane is humming a Christmas song and holding his hand,so he feels like he can “endure” the situation a little longer.

Finally,on top of a small hill, Shane stops.

Ryanlooks around. All he can spot is a field. Far away, almost near thehorizon he can see the outlines of the Shrieking Shack. He exhales asShane pulls his hand away, willing himself not to be toodisappointed. His breath billows out in a cloud in front of his mouthand Ryan can’t look over at Shane, because he’s afraid of what iscoming.

MaybeShane has figured out what Ryan is feeling and wants to let him downgently. Maybe he wants to tell Ryan that they can’t hang out overChristmas. With Ryan’s parents working in the USA, Ryan usuallyspends Christmas at Hogwarts. Shane alternates between spending it athome and at Hogwarts. When Ryan had asked why, Shane had shrugged andsaid he wanted to spend it with his friends sometimes. He hasn’tgone home last year. Maybe he is going to tell Ryan that he will gohome this year, instead.

“Ryan?You in there?”

Ryanblinks and looks over at Shane. His face is a little too close and hecan see the slight freckles around Shane’s nose. His Ravenclawscarf almost hides his mouth completely, but Ryan just sort of knowsthat he’s smiling.

“Yeah,sorry. I was thinking of the holidays.”

“It’sgonna be fun! I asked for a new wizard’s chess! We can play allthrough till New Years.”

Ryanlaughs.

“Allthat practice still won’t get you to beat me.”

Shanesticks out his tongue, but he’s grinning.

“So Istill got that surprise.”

“Okay.”Ryan takes a deep breath, preparing. “What is it?”

Shanewinks at him and pulls his wand from his sleeve.

Ryanfrowns at Shane widens his stance and points the wand at the openfield. His eyes stay on Ryan for some reason and Ryan feels a littlenervous.

“Shane…?”

Shanelicks his lips for a moment and then grins at Ryan widely.

“ExpectoPatronum!”

Hethrusts his wand forward and despite the bright sunlight and thesnow, Ryan can see the silver thingburst out of the tip of the wand and rush out into the field. It’sa small creature and Ryan catches the sight of four legs and floppyears before it bounds off. He’s staring, open mouthed.

“You-You did it!”

Hisvoice jumps a bit as he turns to Shane with wide eyes and his armsthrown wide.

“Youcracked it! You created a patronus!”

Shaneis grinning widely. His cheeks are dusted pink and he turns to Ryanand before Ryan knows what’s happening, he is wrapped in a hug. Ohwell. He won’t complain.

Hesqueezes Shane back and they pull away again. Shane looks a littlesheepish.

“Iwanted to show you first because… well… You kind of, helped me.”

“Helpedyou?”

Shanelooks out on the field. His patronus finished the dash across thefield and is running back. Ryan glances at it…

Andnearly falls over.

Asmall, excited dachshund is bounding towards them. He is silver andsee-through, but there are still the hints of marks on its back andhead. Ryan is looking at the patronus-version of his family dog,Micki.

“Whatthe-”

Thedog stops in front of him, jumps once, twice against his leg and Ryanfeels the barest brush of air when it does. The dog yips and itsounds faint and echo-y and then it disperses.

Ryanlooks up.

Shane’seyes are trained on his face and his best friend looks apprehensiveand… almost scared.

“Shane...”Ryan starts carefully. “Why… Why is Micki your patronus?”

Shaneswallows visibly.

“Because...”He starts carefully. “Because thinking of you is my happiestpossible thought.”

“Oh.”Ryan says, understanding.

Hecan see Shane’s shoulders droop as his friend lowers his gaze tothe ground.

“Yeah.So… I guess, I wanted you to know.”

Ryanfeels his heart beat fast as he steps closer. He cups Shane’s facein his hands and tilts it up a little so he can look up into it.Shane is so stupidly tall, but right now, he doesn’t care.

“Thankyou.” He says, because he doesn’t know what else to say and thenhe kisses Shane.

Theystand together for a while, fresh snow falling around them. Ryanholds Shane’s hand, their fingers entangled and the other hand onthe back of Shane’s neck. His stomach feels like a whole collectionof Weasley Fireworks is going off inside and his feet are gettingcold and Ryan feels better than he has all year.

Fuck.Now he has to practice his patronus. Shane clearly won’t let uptill Micki has Dori to run around with. Oh well.

Thereare worse goals.

#shyan #skeptic believer #ask #anonymous #prompts #hogwarts au #Anonymous

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monkeesimagines · 6 years

Text

Monkee Mayor

It wasn’t that you didn’t support Mike in his campaign for mayor. But after all those letters and checks poured in, just two days before the election- well, you figured something was wrong. The whole time that Mike was campaigning, and the other three Monkees- especially Micky- were running the campaign, you had taken the liberty of polling the populace- and nobody was voting the Nesmith ticket.

After you told Mike the results of your polls, the two of you got into an argument, a bad one. He was determined to go through with all Micky’s planned craziness and advertising. And you told Mike just what you were thinking: that it was all Micky’s idea- which was true- and that Mike had let himself get talked into something he never wanted to do it in the first place- which was also true. But pointing out that he wasn’t thinking for himself was just about the worst thing you could do to him. You had practically accused him of not having a mind of his own. It turned out to be the easiest way to make him mad.

His face was red, his jaws clenched tightly. It was the only time he was ever angry enough at you to clench his fists. He didn’t raise them, but you half-expected a slap. Instead, he let his fiery brown eyes burn into yours for a moment before he spun on his heel and stormed out of your house, slamming the door behind him.

You figured he must have told the other Monkees what you’d said, because it was a couple of days before you heard from them. You spent most of that time at home, crying. When you finally got a call, it was Davy, explaining about Zeckinbush’s threats, confirming your worst fears about the contribution money. Mike had accepted and spent the money, and that meant the biggest crook in town now owned him, just like he owned Mayor Motley and the rest of the city. Cold terror gripped your heart. Mike was ruined, and the other Monkees, too- your best friends, and so early in their lives! You could see no way out of this mess. Now you had a new reason to cry.

Davy told you when and on which station to watch Mike’s campaign speech. With the Monkees out of the house, you decided to go to their pad (you didn’t have a TV) and watch the speech with the three neighbors that were living with the boys. Not knowing whether the Monkees or any of their friends might be angry at you, you sat off to the side, away from the neighbors, but still at a good enough angle to see the TV.

The TV cameras showed Honest Tex (one of your nicknames for him) staring at the table in front of him, chewing on his lip until it seemed he would make it bleed. He looked up sharply as someone off to the side directed his attention to the camera. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Hello, my name is Michael Nesmith, and as many of you know, I’ve been running for- as an independent candidate for mayor of this city.

"Politics is a very interesting game- but it’s a dirty one, too, as I found out, and I don’t guess that I’m tough enough to play that game.”

Your brow creased quizzically as you listened. Michael, what are you doing?

“You see,” Mike said, lowering his eyes, “in the beginning, when I started all this, I sorta wanted to do something for the community, because… uh… Well, Mrs. Filchok- Oh, you don’t know who Mrs. Filchok is.”

Mrs. Filchok, sitting in front of the Monkees’ TV set, gaped at the mention of her name. You realized that, until that moment, none of them had known that Mike had started all this for them.

Mike explained, “There are some people in this town who are the little people-” He frowned. “Well, no, they’re not the little people!” He slapped a hand down on the table in front of him.

You thought perhaps you understood the source of his frustration. He had been playing this politics game just long enough to start talking like a politician, like he was somehow better than everyone else. That was how he’d always been treated growing up, and now he saw himself doing it, and he hated it.

Mike stumbled on, “What I- what I mean to say is, there are some people in this town without power. They’re people like my next door neighbors. And what I wanted to do was go down to city hall and make their voices be heard, because I didn’t think it was right that because they didn’t have any power, that nobody would listen to them.”

You felt like crying. He was taking this whole thing personally. What he saw happening to his neighbors was the same thing he had seen happen to his own family when he was a child.

Mike looked down at his hands, clasped together on the tabletop. “Well, I suppose that was a noble enough motive, but somehow, in doing that, I got sucked up in the very forces I was trying to conquer.”

You inhaled sharply. He was going to come clean, right there on television for everyone to see and hear!

Needing something to look at besides the cold, unforgiving cameras, and something for his hands to do, Mike began gouging his left thumbnail into the lines of his right palm. “Well, the newspaper ads and the skywriting…” He drew his lower lip into his mouth, biting down hard, leaving marks, and shut his eyes briefly, as if experiencing some terrible, gut-wrenching pain. “…and this television show, much as I hate to say it, were all financed by funds that I got from an improper source.” He had to pause for a deep breath before he went on. “I didn’t know they were improper. I don’t suppose that’s any excuse.” He finally managed to look up at the camera. “But if I can be tricked like that, I don’t guess that I’m smart enough to be your mayor, so I’d like to take this opportunity to announce my withdrawal from the race-”

“Mr. Nesmith?”

You tensed as Mayor Motley appeared beside Mike. What could that mealy-mouthed windbag want, unless it was to torment Michael?

“You’re right,” the mayor said. “That’s usually how city hall is run, except when one man’s honesty throws sand in the machinery. I promise you- and all our citizens- that from now on, our city will be a cleaner and more personal place to live.”

Happy tears flowed freely from your eyes as you watched Motley grab Mike’s hand and start pumping. Mike grabbed onto his hat and stood up to keep from falling out of his chair. Then there was the sound of shouting and cheering as the other three Monkees ran in front of the camera to grab Motley’s hand themselves.

And you and Mrs. Filchok and the others were crying tears of joy as you cheered and hugged each other.

* * *

You could hear the Monkees as they came up to the door, singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” as they came in. Micky and Peter were deliberately singing off-key. Well, at least the guys knew better than to try to lift the proud Texan on their shoulders and spoil his dignity.

As soon as the guys walked in, their houseguests gathered around to join in the chorus. Mrs. Filchok had baked a cake, originally intended to celebrate Mike’s becoming mayor. The icing on the cake read, “To Mike, Our Hero.”

You hung back uncertainly, wondering whether Mike would forgive you.

The three neighbors thanked and congratulated Mike profusely for what he had tried to do. He thanked them for their praise, blushing slightly, but not smiling, tucked his hands in his pockets, country-boy style, and muttered, “Ah, well, I tried. Too bad it didn’t work out.”

“That’s all right,” Peter said reassuringly. “You’re not cut out for politics, anyway. You’re a leader of men!”

Everyone looked at him funny, the way they always did. There was logic in his statement somewhere, but no one felt like looking for it.

Except Davy. “He does have a point, you know,” the British lad said. “You’re not a politician.”

“Like I said before,” Micky said with a smug smile, “he’s too honest.”

Mike shot him a dirty look. The Texan had a quippy retort on his tongue, but before it came out, he noticed you standing by the stairs. You offered him a small smile and a slight wave of your fingers. Mike came over to you, his head down, ashamed to look you in the eye. “Hey, Y/N. Listen, um…”

“I’m sorry.”

The two of you chuckled, as both of you had spoken at the same time.

“No, I really am,” Mike said. “I- Hey, what do you have to be sorry about?”

“For accusing you of having no mind of your own,” you said. “Did you tell the others what I said?”

“No,” Mike said, with one of his emphatic head shakes. “They knew we weren’t talking, but I didn’t tell them why.”

You sighed with relief. “Good. At least I don’t have to apologize to Micky for the things I said about him.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t so far off,” Mike admitted. “I got in over my head when I didn’t even want to. I let myself get dragged into all this. It’s my own fault. Well, mine and-”

“Hey!” cried Micky, coming to you and Mike. The curly-headed Monkee grinned widely. “Hey, Y/N, did you catch the show? Man, I didn’t know how that was gonna play out, but it turned out all right in the end.”

“Sure did,” you agreed with a small smile.

Micky grinned at his friend. “See, Mike, I told you running for mayor would solve everything.”

Mike gave him a small, tight smile, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you did. Which reminds me…” He grabbed the back of Micky’s collar, yanking him up onto his tiptoes, and started him towards the other room. Micky squealed in fear.

“Mike,” you pleaded, “go easy on him. He was just trying to help.”

“I’m not gonna hurt him,” Mike said. “I just have some things to settle.”

Micky winced. “Uh, this is just a wild guess, but are you upset with me about something?”

“Yup,” the Texan answered, Gary Cooper-style.

“I was afraid of that,” the former campaign manager whimpered as the former candidate marched him into the next room for a stern discussion about the difference between free speech and loose tongues.

* * *

A couple of days later, you took another poll, asking people if they were happy about Mayor Motley’s re-election. Most of them were.

When you asked what they had thought of the independent candidate, most of them replied, “What independent candidate?”

“The Texan, Mike Nesmith,” you reminded them.

“Who?”

But of those who did remember Mike- and mostly what they remembered was his withdrawal speech- this is what they had to say:

“Oh, yeah, he was that southern boy with the hat that pulled out at the last minute. I wasn’t sure about him until his TV speech. Too bad he withdrew. After that speech, I just might have voted for him, after all. Sure, he messed up. But who doesn’t? At least he admitted it. Most politicians are such cowards, they try to hide their mistakes. And maybe he isn’t that smart when it comes to politics, but then again, most politicians don’t really seem to know what they’re doing, anyway. If I’ve gotta be under someone’s rule, I’d rather it be an honest human being than a smart politician.”

#mike nesmith #mike nesmith imagine #submission

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fearlessfics · 7 years

Text

It Girl

Summary: He inadvertently dragged her right into his war with the newly reformed Shield. Will it bring them closer together or will his ego push her away for good?

Notes: After my first little fic which was also a Miz one, I was asked nicely by @imaginelatenight for more of the Miz so I decided I was happy to oblige. I hope you guys like this one too.

The Miz TV set was destroyed. The miztourage were out cold. Ambrose and Rollins were brawling their way through the back with The Bar. That left Miz all alone scrambling to get out of dodge as one very angry Roman Reigns stalked him through the halls backstage. She was just stepping out of the hair and make up area ready for her first interview of the night. His hands grasped her hips as he slid behind her facing an approaching Roman. A gasp fell from her painted lips at the sudden intrusion. The Miz took a step back pulling her with him.

He smirked at the taller man in front of them. “Come on, Roman. Just go. I’m not even dressed to fight. Save it for the ring.”

“Miz, let the lovely lady go and stop acting like a scared little bitch. You’ve been running your big mouth about my boys and I yet when we step up, you run which I guess isn’t surprising since that’s your M.O.” Roman cracked taking a step closer to them.

The A Lister narrowed his blue eyes at the Samoan. “As long as I have her standing here, you won’t touch me. You can insult me all you want, Roman, but the fact of the matter is that you will never get my title. You are nowhere near worthy enough to be called the Intercontinental Champion.”

“You know what? You two can bicker back and forth all night for all I care. But unlike you two, I still have work tonight so please let me go. I have to be on camera in a few minutes.” Her tone was laced with annoyance as she struggled against the Miz.

He looked from Roman to her before shoving her lightly toward him and bolting down the hall. Stumbling, she sighed in relief when the enforcer of the Shield caught her. He glanced passed her down the hall at the A Lister’s retreating figure shaking his head before turning his attention back to the interviewer ensuring that she was unharmed.

She managed to avoid running into either the Shield or the Miz for the rest of the week. It was that next Monday when she heard the knock at her hotel room door. The brunette hadn’t expected any visitors as it was shortly before Raw anyway. Yet to her surprise it was the Miz standing there with one arm behind his back.

“Um, hi? What are you doing here?”

He pulled his arm out from behind his back revealing a small bouquet of daisies. “Actually, I just wanted to apologize for last week.”

“Daisies?” How’d you know?” She stood there surprised unable to hide the slight smile as she accepted the flowers raising them to her nose taking in the scent.

The Miz smirked at her happy that she seemed delighted by the flowers. “Oh I have my ways. So listen, I was thinking maybe we could ride to the arena together.”

“The flowers are lovely. Thank you.” The interviewer pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “But I’d rather not put myself in another position where you have to hide behind me again.”

Before he could say anything, she shut the door in his face. Of course as luck would have it, her first interview of the night was with The Bar and The Miz. His Intercontinental Title shined proudly upon his shoulder though his focus was solely on her while Sheamus and Cesaro droned on. She avoided him once the interview was over. It was later that night when she found herself in the middle of the ring interviewing the Shield.

“Listen baby girl, fact of the matter is that we’re not afraid of The Bar and we’re damn sure not afraid of the Miz. We made that point clear last week.” Roman smirked glancing out at the crowd.

“For a group known for making the numbers game work to their advantage, are you guys not concerned that they might outnumber you with the miztourage on their side?”

Dean chose that moment to pipe up before either of the other two could. “Oh please, we took on all five of them last week. Those bozos didn’t stand a chance against us. We’re not afraid of them outnumbering us.”

As if on cue, Seth was yanked out of the ring by the Bar while the miztourage jumped Dean and Roman. Miz’s music played as he stormed down to the ring. She backed up toward the ropes stepping through them quickly to get out of the way. The heel of her shoe snapped as she stepped on the apron knocking her off balance. She grabbed the top rope to keep herself upright just as Bo came barreling toward her direction. He collided into the interviewer knocking her off the apron right into the Miz’s arms. The A Lister glared up at Bo before carrying her quickly up the ramp.

“Miz, It’s okay. I’m alright, really.” She assured him from her perch on a crate in a deserted hallway backstage.

He shook his head still pacing a bit in front of her. “No, It’s not okay. They didn’t follow the plan. I specifically told them to make sure you got out of the ring safely first.”

“Bo wouldn’t have crashed into me if the heel on my shoe didn’t snap. Why are you so worked up about this? I’m fine.” A confused look appeared on her face as she watched him.

The A Lister looked at her and sighed. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

Instead of saying anything, The Miz cupped her face pulling her into a kiss. She was caught off guard not expecting that as a response at all and yet she couldn’t help melting into the kiss returning it eagerly. Familiar voices could be heard nearby calling out his name and he broke the kiss reluctantly with a sigh. She simply nodded her head wiping the traces of her lipstick from his lips with her thumb. He pressed a kiss to her forehead smiling warmly at her before walking away to deal with his teammates.

The feud between the Miz with the Bar and the Shield raged on as the days grew closer to the TLC pay per view. She had managed to stay relatively unscathed throughout it all and it was announced that on the last Raw before TLC, Roman was going to get another shot at the IC title. Of course Miz wasn’t thrilled with that turn of events and he did everything he could to ensure that the other man was going to suffer the same fate he did the last time. The Shield weren’t stupid though. They let him think he had their number, so to speak, when the truth was that they had him right where they wanted him. The trio knew that the A Lister had a thing for the pretty interviewer. Now they weren’t the type of guys to harm a woman intentionally. That didn’t mean they couldn’t flirt with her just to get under the Miz’s skin though.

He rolled his eyes as he took a seat in his locker room growing irritated while the replay of the Shield flirting with her played on the monitor. “Now that right there is why Roman is never going to be Intercontinental Champion. Losing focus instead of keeping his eye on the prize. Total waste of time.”

��Excuse me?” She raised her eyebrows at him clearly offended.

The Miz looked over at her and sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not a waste of time. I just worked so hard to get this title back to the prestige that it rightfully deserved. I’ve broken records. I’m one of the greatest Intercontinental Champions of all time. I’m not about to lose it to some horn dog who can’t even focus on this opportunity of a lifetime that’s ahead of him because a pretty girl crosses his path.”

“Oh my god, you are so full of yourself! Yes, it’s great that you’ve broken records and that you’re one of the greatest Intercontinental Champions of all time. But you are so damn full of yourself that you can’t see the bigger picture.”

He chuckled softly at her. “Sweetheart, I am the bigger picture.”

“Yeah well have fun cuddling your ego.” Standing up, she rolled her eyes walking out of the locker room.

When the dust cleared, It was Roman standing tall at the end of Raw holding the title high in the air victorious. Miz dragged himself backstage feeling defeated and utterly alone. The sound of her laugh caught his attention and he glanced up only to see her talking with Mickie. Her smile lit up the area surrounding them. He didn’t realize he was staring until her eyes locked with his and her smile started to fade. Sighing, he made his way to his locker room to shower and change.

The knock on her hotel room door later that night caught her by surprise. Against her better judgment, she let him inside the room and shut the door.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you lost.”

Miz nodded his head and sighed running his fingers through his slightly damp locks. “Thanks. Listen, you were right. I wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. The Shield figured it out. They know you’re as important to me if not more important to me than that title. Those jerks were using that to get under my skin. Trying to throw me off my game.”

“So It’s my fault that you lost?” She grew upset taking a step back.

He immediately reached out pulling her closer to him. “No, no, not at all. It was my fault. I let my stupid ego get in the way. The title’s not even important right now. I’ll get that back when I have my rematch.”

“You’ve been doing this ever since that night we kissed. You act sweet and then you go right back to your egotistical jerky ways. I just.. I don’t get it. What the hell do you want?”

The A Lister held her close looking straight into her brown eyes. “I want you. I just want you. Look, you’re right. I’m a huge egotistical jerk. I’m just asking you to give me a chance to show you that there’s more to me than that. I promise you that I will tone down that side of me toward you. Miz the egotistical jerk won’t even exist when it comes to you.”

“Now that’s a mighty big promise. Fine. I’ll give you one more chance, but there’s one condition.” She sighed smiling at him softly.

Miz perked up considerably and smiled wrapping his arms around her waist. “Anything. I’ll do anything. Just name it.”

“Get your title back. It always did look better on you anyway.” She grinned softly at him.

He chuckled softly pressing a kiss to her lips happily. “Yes ma’am.”

#the miz imagine #the miz imagines #wwe imagines #wwe imagine

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chicagotinyhouse · 5 years

Text

Please help people in need

Micki Denis prepares the bed in the car she lives in at Lake Washington United Methodist Church’s parking lot in Kirkland, Wash., on Sunday, Oct. 13, 2019. Lindsey Wasson, for the Deseret News SALT LAKE CITY — When Micki Denis first moved to Seattle, she tried to find a studio apartment she could afford — nothing fancy, just a warm room for sleeping and a small kitchen so she could have her son over for dinner. Instead, the mother of five and grandmother of 14 is sleeping in her car, a 2007 Toyota FJ Cruiser. She is not alone. Each night, Denis shares a parking lot outside a Methodist church with as many as 50 cars, vans and trucks, some housing entire families. In the morning, kids spill out and go into the church to get ready for school. But Denis — the 64-year-old cousin of U.S. Senator Marco Rubio and sister of a Nevada state senator — wakes up each day in disbelief that this is her life now. She lived in nice homes for decades, until her divorce in 2003. From 2005-07, she served a mission in Florida and El Salvador for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Just last summer, she traveled around Europe. Coming from Utah, where despite rising rental costs Denis could live on a variety of part-time jobs — like being an interpreter for a school district and a cafeteria cashier at her church’s Salt Lake Temple — she was shocked by the Seattle-area housing market. She found a part-time job to supplement a pension and Social Security, but it’s not enough. “I thought I could get something for about $700, a nice studio, but I can’t. I don’t know what’s going on here,” Denis said. What’s going on is that low- to moderate-income Americans who don’t own their own homes are being hammered by skyrocketing rents, stagnant wages and a shortage of affordable housing. Applicants for subsidized housing face years on a waiting list. Those in need of emergency shelter find beds are often full while people sleep in the streets. No state has an adequate supply of affordable rental housing, according to the National Low Income Housing Coalition, which recently released a report that examined the increasing gap between wages and rent. The coalition found that rental costs are rising faster than wages, and that, on average, a worker earning the federal minimum wage would have to work 103 hours a week to afford a one-bedroom apartment. In some communities, it’s worse than that. In King County, where Denis now lives, a worker needs an income of more than $62,000 to afford a one-bedroom apartment, compared to $46,548 for all of Washington state, the report said. This has driven Denis and thousands of other Americans to live in their vehicles, many of them from vulnerable groups like children and seniors. This solves one problem but creates others — like where to park at night and how to maintain hygiene. Cities and municipalities where they stay face unsavory choices. Should they accommodate the “vehicular homeless” with relaxed laws and safe parking lots, or try to legislate them away? California is considering legislation that would require its largest cities to provide parking for people living in their vehicles. But in the meantime, faith groups and nonprofits are stepping up to help, even when neighbors say “not on my street.” ‘Completely un-affordable’ As darkness envelops the parking lot at Lake Washington United Methodist Church in Kirkland, Washington, a suburb of Seattle, Denis prepares for another cold evening near Crissy Norton, a mother of three who has two vehicles in which to house her family. Norton, who is 26, is here at the church’s “safe lot” with her common-law husband, Matt, and their girls, who are 6, 3 and 1. They sleep in two vehicles: a Honda they own and a Ford F-150 truck they borrowed from a friend. They also have a Volkswagen Jetta that doesn’t run, but is good for storing clothes, blankets and toys. The family’s troubles began when Matt lost his job just before Christmas in 2017. “We struggled for a year to pay rent with odd jobs, but finding him one was tough. Last Christmas, we finally couldn’t do it and got evicted. We stayed with some friends in the winter, but come summer, we had to leave, and since then, it has been truck living,” Crissy Norton said. The family’s struggles, however, have been a little easier thanks to a ministry of Lake Washington United Methodist Church, a 200-member congregation that decided in 2011 to put its often-empty parking lot to good use. The church established a “Safe Parking” zone where people can sleep in their vehicles without fear of being harassed, interrogated or ordered to move. Volunteers come to the church early in the morning so school-aged children can come inside and get ready for school, and again in the evening, so “guests” can use bathroom facilities and the church’s kitchen and phone. The guests also have access to a refrigerator and Wi-Fi. They are welcome to join church activities but don’t have to do so. Karina O’Malley, a church member and volunteer who oversees the program, said the church started small, with six parking spaces, but as the program has grown, they’ve had up to 50 vehicles parked overnight. The demand exists, she says, because rent prices in the county are “completely unaffordable.” Moreover, the gap between wages and rent is expected to worsen in the coming years, according to the National Low Income Housing Coalition. “The median-wage worker in eight of the nation’s 10 largest occupations, including retail salespersons, fast food workers, personal care aides, customer service representatives, and office clerks, do not earn enough to afford a modest one-bedroom rental home,” the coalition’s report says, adding, “The number of low-wage jobs is expected to grow significantly in the next 10 years.” This means that many people like Denis, despite having a steady income and a job, either can’t afford to rent a place, or if they could, would have nothing left over for utilities and food. And sleeping in a car is more appealing to some people than going to a homeless shelter. Some are uncomfortable with the stigma; others don’t want to abide by a shelter’s schedule or prefer the privacy of their car. Moreover, deciding to live in a car provides people with few options a sense of autonomy. “There’s a tiny minority who say I’m choosing to live in my car because that’s the only solution that works for me at this point. But most of these folks are desperately trying to get back into housing,” O’Malley, at Lake Washington UMC, said. “Folks don’t have a lot of great options, but there’s a sense of dignity that comes with saying what you’re doing is your choice.” A painful secret Denis, a native of Cuba who came to the U.S. with her parents when she was 5, had no experience renting for most of her life. From age 18 through 50, she had always lived in homes that she owned. Her five children, ages 33 to 45, are well off enough to help, but Denis doesn’t want to impose, which is why she hasn’t told them where she’s living been living since the middle of July. She said she figures she’ll need help when she is in her 70s or older and doesn’t want to tap that reservoir of goodwill while she’s still healthy and able to work. “I haven’t asked my children for help. I haven’t told a soul,” she said, adding that even her brother, a Nevada state senator and former LDS bishop, doesn’t know. “I want to fix this problem on my own,” she said, her voice breaking. Denis traveled Europe cheaply between April and October of last year, staying in hostels and LDS temple housing, and so when she returned to the U.S. for a grandchild’s baptism, she thought she could live equally well here while maintaining her mobility. But that hasn’t been the case, at least not in the Pacific Northwest. “Even if I pay $1,100 (in rent), that leaves me with hardly anything for gas, for food, for insurance. And the housing that I could afford is in places that aren’t nice. I can’t do that. I’m safer here,” she said. Denis is working as a cashier, so she has a place to go during the day. She has a membership at the YMCA, where she goes to swim, do yoga and shower, and she also spends time at the local library. At night, she stretches out on a foam mattress in the back of her Toyota and covers herself with a down comforter. Since she’s a half-inch shy of 5 feet tall, sleeping in the car isn’t so bad, Denis said, except for when she needs to go to the bathroom at night. The church provides port-a-potties, but she doesn’t like to leave her car at night, especially now that it’s cold. (When it’s 32 degrees or colder, the church lets people sleep inside, but it hasn’t gotten that cold yet this fall.) That said, she knows she has it better than some of her parking-lot neighbors. “There are women here who never leave their car,” she said. What cities can do At the other end of the spectrum is Bob Wells, founder of the Cheap RV Living website and its corresponding YouTube channel, which has 339,000 subscribers. Wells, the author of “How to Live in a Car, Van or RV,” promotes what he calls “nomadic tribalism in a car, van or RV,” and his followers include people trying to get out of debt and those who embrace a minimalist lifestyle. Because Wells is so well-known, he’s been approached by some government officials about how cities and towns can best address the challenges presented by vehicle dwellers, the most pressing of which is where they can park and where they can dispose of waste. He urges cities to build a cooperative relationship with vehicle dwellers, provide parking and portable restroom facilities, and even a place where people can go to get temporary work. Such things would produce big results for a little money. “They’re going to have happier residents, and they’re not going to be dumping their tanks or sleeping outside people’s homes.” But some cities are doubling down on enforcement to try to get the car dwellers to go elsewhere. In July, police in Fort Collins, Colorado, issued tow notices and tickets to more than two dozen people camping in their cars, the Coloradoan reported. And San Diego has enacted a new “vehicle habitation ordinance” that prohibits people from sleeping in their cars near residences and schools. At the same time, however, the city has expanded a Safe Parking Program that it operates in conjunction with Jewish Family Service of San Diego. Pamela C. Twiss, a professor at California University of Pennsylvania and co-author of “The Homelessness Industry, a Critique of U.S. Social Policy,” said she applauds cities and faith groups that are expanding safe parking. “A car is obviously not a suitable home, but using a car for sheer survival shouldn’t be criminalized,” Twiss said. “People have to have ways to survive, and we don’t have enough shelter spaces for those who need emergency shelter.” She also noted that there is a multiyear waiting list for subsidized housing in much of the the U.S. “We’re only serving about one-quarter of those who are eligible on an income-basis,” which means that three-quarters of people who qualify for government assistance won’t get it, Twiss said. And there aren’t enough emergency shelters, either. The National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty estimates that there are 286,203 emergency shelter beds available for the 553,000 people who need them. ‘Not a solution’ Teresa Smith, founder and CEO of a San Diego nonprofit that helps the homeless, said groups that offer safe parking often are approached by people who are living in their cars happily but need a place to park for a few days. “I can’t tell you how many calls we get from people who want to urban camp,” she said. Smith’s organization, Dreams for Change, runs two safe-parking lots with a capacity of 30 to 35 vehicles, but they’re always full, and there’s a waiting list, so they can only accept people with the most urgent need, she said. Also, Dreams for Change only accepts people who are actively looking for housing. “This is not a lifestyle for them; it’s a transition, and their goal is to move back into housing.” Conversely, at Lake Washington United Methodist, the safe-parking lot is open to people to anyone living in a vehicle, whether or not they’re looking for housing. Crissy Norton, the mother of three, has been actively searching and just found out last week that she and her husband have qualified for traditional shelter. She hopes to be in apartment with her children within a few weeks. Denis, however, remains uncertain of her plans. Unwilling to ask her family for help and reluctant to move from Seattle, she believes her car is her only option right now. Hers is a situation that an increasing number of seniors are facing, said Smith at Dreams for Change. Smith said that 15-20% of the people living in their cars on Dreams for Change lots are 58 and older, and 20% are families with kids. And while most safe parking programs are on the West Coast, she said she has been contacted by people in North Carolina, Tennessee, Pennsylvania and Colorado about how they can start similar programs there. “It’s clearly not just a California issue. The problem is growing, very much so,” Smith said, adding that safe-parking lots are “not a solution, by any means.” “But they’re at least something that helps.” And Denis and Norton said it’s been good to be surrounded by other people in the same situation, and they’ve made friends there. In fact, for other people contemplating turning their car into a residence, Norton says it’s critically important to have a community of support. “Don’t do it alone,” she said. “Make friends. Never, ever let yourself be alone.” Over and over I keep hearing discouraging stories like this throughout our state and others. Chicago Tiny House needs your help to provide housing to those that need it. We are desperately looking for help from those that want to make a difference. If you would like to make a difference please let us know, we are looking for individuals to organize a winter welfare check unit as well as people to help with fundraising and direction of our organization. Make a difference in someone's life today and join Chicago Tiny House's mission to help people in need. Read the full article

#@chicagotinyhouse #fundraiser #textdonation #tinyhouse

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antiques-for-geeks · 5 years

Text

Firebird: more of the whole sordid collection for the Vic 20…

Gauntlet still thrown down, Meat continues to plough through the world of Firebird on the Vic 20. Catch up with part one here.

When the Vic 20s started arriving en-masse in the summer of 2018, a red-faced Tim admitted that he’d made an utter arse of his eBay bidding strategy. He only wanted one machine, plus a 1541 disk drive and his spectacular misjudgment drew, well mockery, from the rest of us. Sifting through the pile of software on his desk that had come with his purchases, I’d picked up a Firebird tape and decided that I’d work my way through their back catalogue for the machine. I was going to do the whole sordid collection of Vic 20 games.

After all.

How hard can it be?

S-h-o-pp-i-n-g

While Snake Bite was included in the mountain of games that Tim had the misfortune to end up owning, I had to go to eBay for the next title I needed. I scoured the listings and found amongst a bunch of cassettes marked as untested, the next game in the Firebird collection for the Vic 20. Mickey the Bricky. I took a chance and bought the lot.

Is it just me, or is Bricky spelt wrong?

Once the game had arrived, I quickly stuffed the tape into the Datasette and… nothing. The game did not load. I tried a different machine and Datasette combination from Vic mountain just behind Tim, but it just confirmed the worst.

The cassette was no good. My gamble had not paid off.

More frustratingly, I could not find the title on any retro sites to buy or download. Fortunately, not everyone is blessed with perfect spelling and it turned out that there are a good number of ways to (mis)spell Mickey the Bricky. A few strategically aimed Google searches and Micky the Brickey yielded a hit from an ancient site that had an eclectic mix of Vic software to download. As I’d gone to the trouble of buying the title, I figured I was in the clear legally.

Mickey the Bricky

I’d always been surprised that people were still developing and releasing games for the Vic as late as 1985. The low-end replacement for the machine, the Commodore 16, was already out and had sold reasonably in Europe at least. The market for the older machine wasn’t exactly buoyant, but games did trickle out of publishers now and then.

The bonus counter drops quickly; the only thing dropping faster these days are the collective jaws of Love Island viewers when the blonde one with the flouro bikini that said she didn’t like the muscled shaved headed bloke, gets off with him in the jacuzzi only TEN MINUTES after he’d snogged the brunette one (not the one from Doncaster, the other one, you know from Dartford that no-one likes) and told her that she was the one, but she’d only just dumped... [have you even watched Love Island, Meat? Tim]

Late titles for the Vic generally struggle, trying to compete with features found on more powerful machines with varying success. Mickey the Bricky is an example of pushing the envelope done better, if not right. I’m not about to make out it is the greatest game on the machine, but what developer Dave Tong achieved is really rather nifty.

You play as Mickey who has to go around the building site, picking up the tools that he’s left lying about. This is made much, much more difficult by the barrels rolling about the place that you need to jump over. The game owes a lot to Donkey Kong. Mickey looks rather like everyone’s favourite Italian-American plumber, even if he is only yellow and black. Put it this way, it’s more convincing as Mario than Bob Hoskins. He hated the role by the way, which makes me wonder why he took it in the first place.

Bob Hoskins, not enjoying his role, yesterday. Hold on, oh sod it, he’s got a ‘tache and a hat, close enough.

Unusually for an unexpanded Vic 20 title, it has a short piece of in-game music. It’s not up to the standard of a Rob Hubbard epic, but it makes a nice diversion and the game does not suffer for its inclusion. Spot sound effects are rather basic; a whoosh as a barrel smashes into you, a beep when you pick up a tool and a descending set of beeps when you fall off a platform. Not exactly amazing, but there.

The game is fiendishly difficult from the outset. Controlling Mickey is not hard, but it is not the easiest either. Collision detection, such as it is with a game that has to work in the confines of redefining a character set to provide graphics, is not very forgiving. Timing your jumps to get over the barrels flying at you takes practice and effort. It can be infuriating at first, especially as the screen resets and you’re back to square one. Within a few attempts though, it starts to become easier and of course, plays better with a joystick.

Jumping that gap ain’t going to be easy. Honestly.

Even with learning the game, playing through is amazingly tough. With only three screens I guess it was a way of making sure you get your money’s worth. Strangely, here it works rather than being a weakness. Instead of switching the machine off in a huff, I found that I couldn’t let it lie.

Some will say that it has not aged that well and it would be unfair to judge it too harshly. This was not a masterpiece when it was released. Mickey the Bricky was a good budget game for a limited platform in 1985 and still is now.

Score card

Presentation 5/10

Neat and tidy - exactly what you expect from early Firebird.

Originality 5/10

Yeah, it’s Donkey Kong with a dubious back-story and missing the graphic of a massive ape hurling barrels at you like an angry country pub landlord who’s found out that you’ve been trying to pull his daughter.

Graphics 6/10

Neat and tidy. Probably as good as you could expect of the Vic, with it’s tiny memory footprint and lack of bitmap display.

Hookability 8/10

Hard as old nails, but this adds to the appeal.

Sound 5/10

Being generous here, but how many other games give you an in-game tune that does not make you want to kill yourself in just 3k?

Lastability 8/10

For some reason, you want to keep coming back to it, even though it’s only got three screens.

Value for Money 7/10

Seriously good value if you had a Vic 20 in 1985. There were full-price titles that had been churned out that were far worse. Even some titles on the Commodore 16 weren’t as good as this in 1985.

Overall 6/10

Just higher than Snake Bite, but this is the better game overall. One of those rare occasions that where for all of its flaws, it’s still enjoyable. Had I had a Vic 20 in 1985, Mickey the Bricky would have a title that I’d have been pleased to have owned.

Thank you, next

Firebird at this stage were mostly curating their collection well; unlike some labels *cough* Mastertronic *cough*, rubbish was not being shovelled out to the public, although there is a special place in hell for Exodus on the Spectrum. That ruined Christmas Day evening in 1985 for the Meat household. No, Firebird were doing a good job overall and I looked forward to the next title for the Vic in their repertoire.

Sadly though, it was not to be; I scoured eBay and only ever found the same two titles. Then I did something that I should have done in the first place. Some searching turned up The Bird Sanctuary, a website set up to venerate Telecomsoft. From here, I learned a lot; including the sad news that there were only ever two Vic 20 titles from Firebird. Kind of makes sense though, the label launched late in the machine’s timeline.

So to answer the question how hard card it be? Well, as it turned out, not very hard at all. But collecting all of the titles for another platform? Now that might just be a bit more of a challenge...

#vic20 #afg #antiquesforgeeks #retrogaming #retrocomputing #videogames #firebird #retrochallenge

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philanddanxreader · 7 years

Text

Dorms.

Hello, love bugs!

Dan x reader.

Warnings ⚠️, smutish.

Meeting Dan at university and talking to him about leaving university to become a full-time YouTuber. Side note what do you guys call a Micky of liquor? I’m Canadian and I grew up only knowing to call it that.

Tonight was going to be a much-needed break. You and this boy named Dan had been hanging out a lot lately. You had met him from being just down the hall from his dorm. It seemed like the two of you were always bumping into each other every day while going to class. This was the start of a friendship that was blossoming into something more. You had a feeling that tonight wasn’t just going to be a quiet night. But all of this was beyond the point. What was important right now was that It was your turn to supply the booze for your r&r night. You had a bottle of wine and a Micky ( for my non-Canadians it’s the size of a flask.)of vodka to help unwind. You reach Dan’s door knocking to let him know you were there with libations. You can hear him get up and stumble over to the door. You feel a small smile creep to your face. He was so dorky and cute.

“Hey!” Dan’s says leaning against the door frame trying to look cool.

“Hey, you.” You say eyeing him up. “I brought gifts!” holding out the wine in one hand and vodka in the other. Dan smile turned even larger.

“Well welcome to my humble abode,”Dan instantly took the wine from your hand then grabbing said hand to bring you into his dorm. It was small but cosy. After these last few months of hanging out with him, the dorm started to feel like home. The two of you had study dates all of the time. To be honest the studying was sometimes put on the back burner for other things. You and Dan had suddenly started to become friends with some benefits. It started by accident with a little too much alcohol. A friendly kiss goodbye here and a cuddle there didn’t seem like much. You happen to both be just physical people. It didn’t seem to be just friendly anymore, however. The chemistry now started to spark on its own. It probably came so easily to the two of you from having similar childhoods and teenage years. It felt like the two of you were long lost friends who lived the same lives apart. The biggest thing you bonded over was your past relationships. The both of you had ended long term relationships before coming to uni. This created a bond of understanding where the other person was coming from. You enjoyed staying up late cuddling in his bed just talking for hours after a party. It was nice to make such a good friend at university who shared so many of the same interests and values.

“I didn’t bring glasses but I supplied the liquor.” Smiling you take back your hand before jumping onto his bed. “Pour me a glass of wine butler.” You had been in a particularly sassy mood so you made sure to add a hand wave and a smirk. Dan gave you a dirty look but continued to find his two finest mugs for your drinks. After he filled the glasses he sat beside you on the small twin bed handing you the stress relieving cup. You give him a quick thank you before taking a sip of the sweet nectar. Damn Daniel getting you into enjoying wine instead of straight liquor. He is right though that it’s a lot classier to drink wine or rather get wine drunk, and not blasted from only vodka.

“Why does it feel like I haven’t seen you in a couple days?” You missed him more than you would like to admit. You missed everything about him. Especially physical contact so you decided to link your arm with his to pull him closer to you.

“I’ve just been busy I guess,” Dan says taking a sip from his mug. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. The question is whether or not you were going to push the topic.

“Oh ok.” You say. You didn’t want to pick a battle with him. Hopefully, after some liquid courage in his system, he would say what’s been bothering him.Attempting to change the subject you decided to ask him about something that had been bugging you a bit.

“I actually came yesterday to see if you wanted to study, but you didn’t answer. Figured you must have been having som private time.” You raise your eyebrows before laughing a little Dan gave a half-hearted laugh to your joke.

“Oh ya, I was hanging at Phil’s most of the day yesterday, ” You hadn't even noticed but Dan was playing with your fingers on your hand that is attached to the arm that is linked in his. He was definitely not being himself. Dan is definitely not one for being vague. You set down your mug then turn to Dan to look into his eyes.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help fix it when you don’t tell me.” You couldn't help the concern that was crossing your expression. Before you can even wait for an answer Dan’s lips were crashing into yours. Most of the time Dan was fairly gentle when you kissed. This kiss, however, was the complete opposite. You could feel the passion and angst in this kiss. You could even have a faint taste of the wine you and Dan were drinking moments ago. Just as fast as the kiss started it ended. Dan pulled away taking a deep breath before turning away to put his drink on the nightstand before returning to your lips. This time the kiss feels more familiar. You crawl into Dan’s lap to get closer to him, slipping your hands behind his neck to play with the back of his hair. Dan's hands, however, were not so innocent. His were roaming your body until they hit the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head in one swift motion. You and Dan had gotten close to each other but never this fast. Before you could think too much more into his actions his lips were on your neck making love marks to claim you as his. His hands had now found what they were searching for as he played with your breast in his right hand while his left was attempting to undo your bra.

“Dan, what’s gotten into you.” You say breathlessly. As you start to feel his pants getting somehow even tighter under you.

“I just need to forget right now. You're like a drug of choice to me.” He says re-capturing your lips to his again as he muddles a swear or two about how your bra won’t cooperate.

“Dan I can’t believe I’m saying this but we need to pause for a second.” You had to hold his face between your two hands just to keep him focused. “Tell me what’s going on. Don’t get me wrong I’m totally enjoying this. I can’t let this be a way to get your mind of something. What’s wrong?” Dan’s eyes swell up with little tears at the corners. You wipe away the little tears with your thumb while kissing his forehead. This took a complete turn.

Dan releases a shaky breath before starting. “As you know my YouTube is starting to take off. I’m really considering saying fuck it to all of this Uni stuff and try to go full time with it.” This was a lot to process in a short amount of time. He had obviously been thinking about this for a while. You knew he loved his YouTube, you had to admit that his stuff was pretty good. He was always using his time to edit videos rather than doing homework. As you process the new information Dan searches your face practically begging for you to say something. “You think it’s stupid, Dan couldn't hide the frown that found its way to his slightly swollen lips.

“I never said that!” Feeling terrible you start rubbing little circles on his cheeks with your thumbs. “I just don’t know what to exactly say right now. I know you haven’t been that happy at Uni. I also know that you have been putting off homework to edit and shoot videos.” You say looking at him with a small smile on your face. A terrible thought comes to mind, unfortunately, you feel the question leave your lips before you can stop yourself. “What if you fail?” Your voice is small as you can't face Dan so you decided to look down. You didn’t want to be the one to crush his dreams. You knew that Phil was a big influence in Dan’s life when it came to YouTube. Phil was doing ok for himself on his YouTube money. He wasn’t by any means rich. He was, however, able to live on his own in an apartment.

“What if is the thing that scares me.” He says pushing a piece of hair out of your face. Was he comforting you when he was the one talking about dropping out of university? “I feel like I need to do this. Like it’s meant to be.” Dan tilted your chin to look up at him so he could continue searching your face for an answer.

“I think you already know your answer, Dan.” You say with a small smile. “Give it a go. If it doesn’t work out just come back to university to try again. I’ve known you haven’t been happy for a while. I just want you to be happy and do something you love.“Maybe you had been lying to yourself about the just friends with benefits thing. Even considering that Dan wouldn’t be around next year broke your heart. "Listen I think we should just call it a night and maybe watch a movie and cuddle.” You say snuggling your face into his neck.

“I agree,” Dan says rubbing your back with his strong hands. Later that night you enjoyed a terrible movie with a great friend, cuddling and talking This was definitely not how either of you thought this was how the night was going to end. You both had a lot to think about but that was for another time. Tonight was about relaxation.

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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David Peabody saves the day. [HM]

For the last several days David Peabody(Currently portraying Santa Clause so that he may make rent.)has been looking at the smiling and happy faces of countless families and it was beginning to make him physically ill. Not from any ill will directed at the happy families mind you, no it was all directed inward. A lifetime of missed opportunities and wasted time. Each new group looked more joyous and happy than the last and in their eyes David saw the things he wished he had. A life shared in the love of a family, the house on the hill with the white picket fence, a blowjob on a golden throne as he surveys his Kingdom.

Forty five minutes after that particular thought David was walking through the cities' ice covered streets. It created jagged reinterpretations of light and shadow as the neon blasted through the ice coating each sign. His destination lay one hundred yards before him, just past the tweaker that always shouts obscenities at him.

Good Time Convenience Market is what the sign said but it may as well have simply read "HEAVEN" in big bold blue neon. They were always open, twenty four seven, three sixty five. From what David could guess is that the total staff was two, and these brave men provided a great service to the everyman. Anything you could want to buy was on display, and it was at time accessible to those who keep odd hours. After all, a lot of stores close after midnight. Gourmet catfood with genuine chicken! That Kevin james movie from three years ago priced at an affordable 3.99$! Coffee in cups as big as your god damned head, it was all here for David. The beer isle is the first stop of the night. First he reaches for his old staple, a low tier beer that sports a blue ribbon. (They had awarded it themselves.) Then reaches for something a shelf higher and slightly to the left. He tucks it triumphantly under his left elbow and walks to the next destination. The TV dinner isle. David has already decided that it is going to be a special night(he was going to stay up until one thirty and watch a few Seinfeld re-runs. He grabs a frozen meal and reads excitedly that the box proclaims 25% more, more what it does not specify.

A disruption to zen like state comes in the form of a five year old yelling for a candy bar. Suddenly a days worth of drinking coffee by the gallon and eating hamburgers for lunch catches up with David as it does on more nights than he'd care to admit. He heads towards the bathroom and soon has the door shut and safely locked. David lets relief wash over him. The flickering fluorescent bulb casting odd shadows.

One minute later in the convenience store every head had turned to face the figure that had kicked in the door and stormed in. It was a woman in her late forties dressed in what was clearly a child's mickey mouse costume. The mask had mismatched pupils and gave the scene a certain level of absurdity, the rest of it fit the woman like an odd parody of Micky Mouse filtered through strange porn. The gun she held outstretched in her right hand was very real and very big. The clerk tries to stammer. He wets himself instead of speaking. The mother grips her child's hand almost too hard and is trying to figure out why she has seen the badly aged rose tattoo before. "Beth Petty?!"

Bethany panics and squeezes the trigger on the gun. her Micky Mouse ears flopping up and down. The bullet bounces harmlessly off of a metal shelf and then fatally into the neck of the brave clerk. Streamers of blood explode outward as he falls backwards and tries to cover the wound with his hand. His legs knock over the crate of expired bananas that he had meant to send back today.

"What the fuck did you do that for Beth!?"

Bethany whips around and points the gun at the mother. "Stop saying my name!" The mother notices Bethany looking past her right shoulder. The mother turns and sees the security camera with the tiny red light on.

"You know those things don't have microphones don't you?"

Bethany cocks the gun. David explodes out of the bathroom rushing at Bethany with the plunger held like a broadsword.Bethany notices with astounding disgust that the plunger was freshly used.

Bethany is startled and her nerves are fried from the low grade amphetamines she gets from the gas station just down the road. Her body moves involuntarily and she throws the gun skyward. The plunger is inches from her face, so close she can see the corn. David is shaking.. The pair lock eyes and in that instant both realize that neither has any idea what they are doing. The mom had tried to cover the child when the gun was thrown. She knocked herself out on the counter slamming her head into it. The child walks up to the gun and picks it up. Bethany and David struggle to find their words. Bethany takes a step forward and reaches for the gun. The trigger is pulled as the child grasps parts randomly and shoots Bethany straight through the heart, you could almost see through her. The arterial spray shoots all the way to the dessert section at the opposite end of the store, covering the limited edition Oreos in vibrant red blood.

David slowly pulls his beard up and hat out of his pocket. The child watches as David makes his transformation into Santa Clause. "HO HO HO, you know who I am, right?" David asks in his Santa voice. The child picks his nose. He nods with certainty as he pulls out a strand of green mucus. David takes a step further. "What would you like for christmas? You've been so good that you deserve your present early." David takes another step. "Candy bar." The child drools in anticipation after saying the words.

David takes the gun. He exhales deeply and stands placing the gun on the counter, reaches for the phone and dials 911. In fifteen seconds the cops are on their way. He had forgotten to mention the mother being unconscious and for a moment tries to remember if you're supposed to wake up people who are unconscious or not. In the end he cannot remember. David reaches up and gets the candy bar the child had been reaching for. The wrapper is opened and the child has found peace. David watches for the police through the front door and reflects on what a hero he was.

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torentialtribute · 5 years

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Mark Wilson is England’s new sensation who is on course for a Six Nations record

Mark Wilson has duties the Guinness Six Nations by storm in England's back- to-back victories.

The 29-year-old is on course to shatter the championship tackling record. Sportsmail hears from the star and those who know him on his rise to the top …

England flanker Mark Wilson (center right) is set to shatter the Six Nations tackling record

Mark Wilson (on the start of his club career)

I remember when I first rocked up at Newcastle. My PE teacher brought me over and there's a one-way system when you get to the club. Jonny Wilkinson was driving out in his Golf and somehow we ended up blocking him in. I thought, 'Oh no! Great start.

Rob Andrew was in charge of the first team. My mom came from one of the sessions in the summer when he had his little shorts on and had a bit of a moment when he walked in!

The club sent me to play for Blaydon during my second year at uni . Amy (now his wife) was working in the bar. We met at the Christmas party. I was living in a flat with a couple of doormen and it was a rank student flat!

Amy's mum is a proper motherly figure so, instead of going back to the flat for Super Noodles on a Tuesday night, I 'd go back to Amy's moms. She'd have dinner on the table, a bath run, do your washing – happy days! Chicken dinners at Amy's moms. I used to have a special plate that was like a serving dish. Proper Geordie family who do anything for you. It was nice.

He's a long way from the schoolboy that first rocked up at Newcastle with his PE teacher

Jim Huxley – Blaydon secretary

He came over as a teenager for two or three years. We just started in the national leagues. Everytime he played, everybody talked about Mark Wilson. Someone would always buy him a pint after the match! He was never someone to shirk and still talk about him that way today. He really bought into the club – just married our stewardesses' daughter, Amy.

He did the right things. He was not one who you heard tales about. His parents are awfully nice people as well. They came to watch his games at Blaydon. Our average gate is probably 200 or 300. If it's Tynedale in the derby then maybe it's 1,500.

We had a reputation for being a 'fendy' club, we would always look after ourselves. It's a Geordie saying. Mark is a fendy bloke. He was always there early, helping out with the coaches, cleaning the changing rooms. You'd never hear anyone say, 'Mark's a lazy bugger'.

Wilson has been described as a 'fendy bloke' by Blaydon secretary Jim Huxley

Tom Rock – former Blaydon coach

Mark was not long out of school. There was no doubt about his talent but what stood out was his work ethic. He was a hard-working, humble, good bloke. That's how he is on the pitch.

A lot of the northern clubs had funding disparities, so we needed to be a tight-knit group. Mark really added to that. He had one of the Blaydon youth players running out with him as a mascot the other day and that was Mark through and through.

He was 19-years old but he was very realistic in terms of where he was at . The lads would earn enough for a good night out on the Saturday. Probably £ 50 a match. He would probably have played for nothing, to be fair to the lad. We were a proper rugby club. We had some long journeys to matches down south.

Blaydon Races was the club song but we were never sober enough by the end of the bus trip to sing it coherently!

The forward's work-ethic, a trait he still possesses, made him stand out at 19 at Blaydon

Micky Ward – Newcastle forwards coach

The big thing with Mark is, he's a driven bloke and he's got high standards. Now he's been on tours and he's in camps with England, they've seen what he's like on a daily basis – how driven he is, how diligent he is and how hard he's worked.

He sets standards If they are not pulling their weight or doing what they are supposed to do, Mark will kick their backside and say, 'That's not acceptable'. He makes sure people are not messing about. If he sees anyone drifting, he's straight on it, saying: 'Sort it out. Get it done '.

He's always been like that. He's never the biggest guy in the world and he's never the fittest, but he had a goal, he knew what he wanted and he worked his backside off to get there.

He's a genuinely good bloke. That's why everyone is so pleased for him. He always got time for the lads. He'll sit around and have the craic. He's not shy but he's not the loud one in the group, or the joker. He's just him. "

The 29-year-old has been described as 'driven' by Newcastle forwards coach Micky Ward

Will Welch – Newcastle captain and back-row team-mate

Wils is modest, down-to-earth and works his socks off. All the lads at the club have known how good he is. We all thought that once he got that opportunity, he'd probably stay in there, because of how hard he works and how good a player he is. It was just a matter of time until the opportunity came along and he took it.

He's a clean grave. He's good about the ball, that's one of his big strengths. He'll make 15 or 20 tackles every game and try as much as possible. He runs some nice lines when he gets the opportunity.

You know if you're alongside him, he'll empty the tank. Whoever you're up against, he'll go full bore and he's a tough bloke as well. He'll put his head where some people will not and he'll tackle anything that comes at him.

There's not really a secret recipe to him. He does not do X-factor stuff, he's just a clean, hard-working lad who gets stuck in.

He's not loud and brash – he's quite quiet. But he's got a good sense of humor and he does not take himself too seriously. When it comes to the business side of things, he'll get his head on and be serious, but in between he'll have a laugh.

Wilson is averaging 25 tackles a game so far through England's two Six Nations matches

Neal Hatley – England coach

Ever since we took on Wils to Argentina (in 1945) 2017), he's unbelievably passionate and proud to play for England. He's become a lot more vocal in training and he's going to be a leader in the back row.

When we took him on that tour, Amy was expecting the birth of their first child, and it was almost a toss-up about which was more important to him. He is just proud to play for him every week, because he's that proud and passionate about it.

The guys were talking about the Ireland game and, after about 25 minutes, they came in together in a group and he wandered in and just said, 'How good is this?' He's that sort or bloke.

You want to work with him and the players because he has every single day.

He works his backside off in training and you see that in Test matches as well.

He has played across the back, at six, seven and eight, and he has done well in all three positions.

I think he's become a more genuine threat as a ball carrier. You saw him playing off the base at No 8 in the autumn and against Australia, he has been carried as well as anyone in our forward pack.

Defensively, he's always very good and he has his head over the ball. He's a poach threat.

The Cambrian will hope to continue his form at the Principality Stadium on Saturday

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