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another-tom-riddle-simp · 3 years ago

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Call Me Yours

Read it here on Ao3.

“Potter, hurry up! We can’t be late again, or Granger will have my head,” Draco calls. Draco, black suit immaculate and hair styled arrogantly, is waiting by the front door for Harry, who’s misplaced his glasses. He’s also misplaced his belt, which doesn’t matter much, because only half his trousers are on: the other pant-leg is caught on his polished shoe, which he had laced up before realizing that he needed something to cover his bottom half.

“Your head? What about my head? ” Harry asks, voice muffled by his jacket, where he hasn’t quite managed to pull it over his head, and Draco can’t help but feel slightly impressed by how thoroughly entangled he’s become. The Savior of the Wizarding World, defeated by his attire.

“Sweetheart, you’re the Ronald in this relationship. Granger has very little expectations for you in situations such as these. However, she has a lot of expectations for me, and Granger can be… intimidating, occasionally,” Draco finishes, and Harry laughs.

“She’s terrifying, Draco, just admit it. You haven’t yet seen her teamed up with Molly; they’re a force to be reckoned with. And she hit you that one time, back in school.”

“Oh, shut it, Potter,” Draco huffs.

“Why do we have to go to this thing anyway? Didn’t we do one just last week?” Harry asks, and Draco watches in fascination as Harry finally appears at the top of the second-floor stairs. He’s half-blinded by the fabric and his lack of eyewear, and his leg movement is still severely impaired.

“We did, but they need more funding for the new research department,” Draco tells him. Harry grumbles something back, but Draco is now preoccupied with the chaos of Harry Potter. Draco wonders what would happen if he didn’t intervene. He debates in his head briefly, Harry’s comment didn’t help his chances, but the threat of Hermione’s reaction if they missed the Ministry fundraiser for something ‘as ridiculous as a broken neck’… he shudders at the thought.

He sighs and waves his wand at Harry, a few steps from excruciating pain and regret. “You’re a mess, honey. What would you do if you didn’t have me,” he tells Harry as his clothing animates and he floats safely down to the first floor. His dress shoes, and by extension, his legs, wiggle into his trousers, and his jacket buttons-up while his tie forms a clean knot. A final flick of Draco’s hand has his glasses landing on the bridge of his nose, and Harry grins cheekily.

“That’s exactly why I’m dating you, Draco, didn’t you know? So you can do my clothes up proper and save me from dying on the stairs.”

“Just that? Nothing else?” Draco says, eyeing Harry’s hair warily. He might be able to charm it neat, but Harry will probably ruffle it immediately.

“Nothing else,” Harry tells him. “Now come on, we’re late.”

---

The Ministry function goes as well as expected, with dolled-up Witch Weekly ‘reporters’ clamoring for gossip, and old men who’ve played the game for far too long making snide comments about Draco’s presence, nevermind their own contributions to either war.

Draco makes polite conversation with everyone who approaches them, making up for the silent death-glare Harry gives the offending conversation-initiators. Eventually, they need a break, and Draco snags another two glasses of champagne as they find a table in the corner of the room.

“Dearest, stop sulking. Imagine the damage you’re doing to our reputation right now, the headlines will have a field day. ‘Harry Potter seen at fundraiser, ‘distressed.’ Turn to page 4 to learn about how Draco Malfoy is actually the Dark Lord’s grandfather!’” Draco tells him dramatically, and it gets a laugh out of Harry.

Hermione finds them a couple of minutes later, and for once she doesn’t berate them about their lack of participation. Her neck has tinged a shade redder than normal, which is Harry’s only clue that she’s flustered as well.

“Where’s Ron? I haven’t seen him around tonight,” Harry asks her, and she smiles.

“He threw a fit the other night. Said he was sick of these things and if he had to go to one more he’d drop dead. I told him I’d tell Molly, but even that didn’t work. It doesn’t matter that much anyway, you two are the ones that they want to see.” The three of them take a moment, simply observing the intricate dance of people and politics.

“You two, stop sitting around and make a couple more rounds. The people want to see your beautiful faces. I’ll give my speech in a couple of minutes and then we’ll be done,” Hermionie tells them eventually, and they stand up as she walks off.

“Let’s go, sunshine, back into the fray.” Draco grabs Harry’s hand and subtlety drags him towards the mass of bodies.

They make a couple more rounds and consume a couple more glasses of wine. Harry tones down his death-glare at Draco’s request. Hermione gives her speech, makes all the old-money geezers feel good about themselves, and then Draco and Harry extract themselves and Floo home, where Harry promptly collapses on the couch, facedown. Draco follows in a slightly more dignified manner, shifting Harry till he’s lying on his back, head in Draco’s lap. They relax quietly for a couple of minutes, the only noise coming from the crackling of the fire.

“What’s up with the pet names?” Harry asks eventually, half-asleep and slurring his words.

“What do you mean?” Draco asks, making a futile attempt at untangling the pandemonium atop Harry’s head. It had been a minor distraction all evening, and halfway through the event, Draco had started to sorely regret his decision to leave it alone.

“Earlier, the pet names. ‘Sunshine, ‘sweetheart’, you know,” Harry tells him. “It’s new. I-- ouch, Draco, that hurts.”

Draco pulls his wand away from where he had been poking Harry’s hair, eyes narrowed as if it was about to attack him. He runs his fingers over Harry’s head, soothing, as he conjures a comb with his other hand.

“Do you not like it? I got bored of ‘Potter’ and ‘Scarhead’ and I thought I’d try something new.” Draco runs the comb through his hair, where it immediately gets caught. He sighs and vanishes the comb. Let it be known that he surrenders, officially, to Harry’s hair. It wins.

“Why, something specific you want me to use?” Draco asks, and Harry smiles.

“Just ‘yours,’” Harry tells him, and Draco nearly pushes him off in mock disgust.

“Darling, what do you think this is, a 1950’s romance novel? You sappy idiot, I’m going to tell Weasley you said that.”

“Don’t you dare, Draco, or I swear, I’ll put hair remover in all your posh shampoo.” Harry sits up with an indignant look, and Draco can’t suppress his amusement. His lips quirk up before he can help himself. Draco’s grooming efforts have made the problem worse, and Harry’s hair is now sticking outward in all directions. With his glasses knocked askew, Harry gives the impression of someone who’s just been electrocuted, but lightly.

Draco giggles. He might be drunker than he thought he was. Harry pauses at Draco’s delight and touches his hair lightly. He feels the spikes and pouts at Draco, who just laughs harder.

“You’re a mess, mon cœur. Let’s go to bed.”

#hdcandyheartsfest2022 #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic #fluff #ao3

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mcheang · 4 years ago

Note

The girl squad overhear Adrien and Marinette talking/arguing about Lila; they learn that Adrien knew Lila was lying and told Marinette to take the high road. When Adrien again says that the lies aren't hurting anyone, the girls confront him and explain just how the lies could hurt them. They also learn about Lila harassing Adrien and threatening Marinette. Bonus: Chloe redemption and having her care about Adrien as a friend.

Friends stand up for each other

Post Ikari Gozen. This is a draft.

While bonding with each other, Kagami and Marinette relate about their familial akumatizations. Marinette told about Weredad, Befana and Bakerix. Kagami talked about her mother and her own experiences.

Marinette: did I mention I’m sorry.

Kagami: do not be upset. You were nervous. Besides, you didn’t mean to, unlike that Lila girl.

Marinette: you know Lila?

Kagami: not exactly. I was busy practising one afternoon, then all of a sudden a random number sends me a picture of a stranger kissing Adrien.

Marinette startled. “Wait, if you never met Lila, how did she get your number?”

Kagami: Adrien thinks she must have copied off his contacts list.

Marinette: that is so wrong

Kagami: indeed

Marinette: lying is one thing, but this is downright harassment and invasion of privacy.

Kagami: lying?

Marinette: Lila likes to make herself sound grander than she really is. Apparently she’s Ladybug’s best friend.

Having met Ladybug, Kagami raised her brows skeptically. “With how Ladybug values her privacy, I’m surprised anyone believes that claim.”

Marinette sighed. “My friend Alya runs the Ladyblog. She gets very excited over any rumor about Ladybug.”

Kagami: like thinking Chloé was Ladybug despite being saved by her from Stoneheart?

Marinette: it is so nice to finally meet someone who does their research.

Kagami: I developed an interest after my own akumatization. But back to this liar, why haven’t you exposed her?

Marinette: I tried to. But she puts on this sweet front and people think I’m just jealous about Adrien.

Kagami: if they could see us now, they might change their minds.

Marinette: I doubt it. Things have gone too far. And the only other witness who believes me is Adrien, and he wants to take the high road and let Lila’s lies crumble on their own.

Kagami frowned. “He told me as much when I asked him what he was going to do about her.”

Marinette: be honest with me, do you wish we didn’t have to take the high road.

Kagami: the question is, would we be taking it if it didn’t involve Adrien.

Marinette snorted. “Alya would scramble to bring the truth to light asap. Rose would want to warn everyone so nobody gets their hopes crushed. And Alix already has her brother coming up with fantastical ideas, she doesn’t need someone else to do it in school too.”

Kagami: then we have our answer.

Marinette stopped. Kagami followed suit.

Marinette: we do, don’t we.

Kagami: It’s a shame that, based on what you’ve said, people would say we’re jealous.

Marinette: so how do we prove we’re not?

Kagami: I need a chance to improve my planning skills (especially since she ruined Ladybug’s first plan) and this is an excellent way to bond.

Marinette grinned.

The next day, the girls in class were astonished to see Marinette and Adrien arguing in the distance.

Lila hasn’t arrived yet. (Tikki may have locked her in her bedroom.)

Curious, Alya led the group to spy on their endgame. They were just around the corner, out of sight, but able to hear everything.

“...too long and her influence is only growing stronger.”

“She’s done nothing serious yet.”

“Are we supposed to wait until something bad really happens before Lila’s exposed?“ This again? The girls barely hid their groans. On a side note, how did Marinette convince Adrien to join her team?

“We’ll stop her before she goes too far,” Adrien assured Marinette.

“Really? Like how you stopped her from taking Kagami’s phone number? Lila’s already convinced Mylene to let her join in on her fundraiser. What if she steals the funds?”

“Relax. Lila’s not going to do anything that daring. She’ll probably just flake as usual.” Wow. Adrien really thinks bad of Lila now. What did Marinette say to him?

“Adrien, we’re talking about a girl who loves to get what she wants. Do you honestly think Lila will be satisfied with a simple no show. She’ll insist she handle the funds to make up for her absence.”

“We don’t have any proof she’s a thief. Ok, she’s a liar. But who doesn’t lie?”

“Adrien…I saw her steal your dad’s book.”

“What?!” Adrien’s outcry expressed what the girls were thinking.

“How do you think I know she’s a liar. I saw Ladybug confront her right after I saw her dump a book in the bin.“

Pause.

“Do you honestly think she won’t stoop so low as to steal Mylene’s funds if she didn’t even care that you were under house arrest?”

Silence before Adrien struggled to say, “She didn’t mean for me to get pulled out of school.”

“Oh come on!” This time the outburst came from Alix, one of the first to recover.

Adrien and Marinette turned around. Adrien paled. “Were you girls eavesdropping?”

Alya glared at him, “Why so upset? It’s not like we’re hurting anybody.”

Adrien cringed from the mocking tone.

Rose looked tearfully at Marinette. “All this time, you were trying to protect us, weren’t you? And we only accused you of being jealous.”

“You’ve finally seen the light. Hallelujah!”

Adrien: you girls aren’t going to tell anybody else, right?

They stared at him in disbelief. “Of course we are. Duh.”

“But then Lila won’t have any friends in our class!”

Alya scoffed. “Like I’m letting Nino listen to anymore of her garbage.”

Mylene nodded furiously. “Ivan and I trusted her!”

Alix: I have to tell Nathaniel. It’s what friends do. Oh, and Kim, too I suppose.

Rose: And Kim will tell Max, who will tell Markov.

Juleka: That leaves Chloe and Sabrina…but they don’t like anyone else but you, Adrien.

Adrien stammered. “It’s mean of you to do that.”

Alix laughed. “Oh, we’re mean? How about you? Did you care to tell Alya her blog credibility is being ruined?”

Mylene: Did you think to warn us that Lila might always be absent at our volunteer parties.

Marinette: Did you consider Kagami’s feelings when you told her you would do nothing to scold Lila for upsetting her.

Adrien looked down, unable to find an answer.

A sharp voice barked out. “Get back, you peasants!”

Chloe had arrived. “Need I remind you Adrikins is still new to having more than one friend. His only real teachers are cartoons with their happily ever afters. While I don’t really care if Lila steals and brags about falsehoods, I care if she does that to you, Adrikins. Dupain-Cheng told me about the photo and asked me to talk sense into you!”

Chloe was plan B. Marinette had asked Kagami to share the photo. Chloe was outraged. She saw that it was a forced kiss, and learned from Kagami how Lila was basically a snoop.

Adrien: Chloe, what do you mean exactly?

Chloe: I don’t care about exposing that liar…much…let’s wait for a slow day before we bring out the popcorn. What I care is that she’s sexually harassing you. i see her constantly moving into your personal space as you lean back. i saw her force that kiss on you so can have a souvenir you never agreed to. Now I hear she’s been snooping around your room, instead of actually studying. Adrikins, I love you, I know what our parents can be like, but that doesn’t mean you should let everybody walk all over you like that.

The girls pause as they take in what Chloe has been saying. Lila has been sexually harassing Adrien.

Adrien croaked out, “What should I do?” He wasn’t asking Chloe. He was asking everybody.

Marinette softened. “If you can’t say no yet, then ask for help. Tell Nino and the guys how Lila’s been bothering you. They’re your friends. If you can’t tell any of us your troubles, then who? Friends are here for each other, no matter what.”

Adrien nodded slowly. While he didn’t like being a tattletale, he also admitted he wanted Lila as far from him as possible. And if Lila was wrong, then he should tattle then? Right?

Alya: as for exposing Lila…

Chloe: we are not doing any exposing until we get a slow day.

Alix: When is a school day not a slow day?

Sabrina: When we learn to expect an akuma at least once a week.

Alya: There was an akuma 4 days ago.

Juleka: There should be one soon, then.

Mylene: How about 2 days after the next akuma attack? That gives us enough time to research, time for the akuma excitement to die down, and time before the next akuma shows up.

Chloe scowled: fine.

Alya: I’ll get right on it!

After that, Lila was irritated that whenever she tried to approach Adrien, someone would block her path, asking for help or stories or whatever. And Mylene had kicked her out of her charity after deciding that Lila was so busy, she didn’t want to interfere with her work with Ali. Ugh. Maybe Lila could convince Mylene to let her handle the cheques later. And the girls didn’t seem to want to hang out with her anymore. Before they always invited her out, but now they claim they’ve accepted her busy schedule. When Lila claimed to be free, someone asked her to help them with some chore.

After the debut of Monsieur Rat, Lila was called to the Principal’s Office. When she came back, she was accompanied by Mrs Rossi and Damocles.

Damocles: Class, I believe Miss Rossi here has something she would like to say.

Lila gritted her teeth as she forced out the words: “Ladybug is not my Best Friend. I don’t know Prince Ali. Jagged never had a kitten….”

The list went on, so many were her lies. While Ms Bustier gasped in betrayal, the girls were secretly munching on candy. Except for Chloe who was openly savouring her honeyed popcorn. Lila glared at her, suspicious of her involvement. Damocles coughed but said nothing. The boys were shocked and angry. It was one thing to unknowingly sexually harass Adrien, it was another to take advantage of their trust.

Mrs Rossi: As of now, my daughter will be heading to a convent school. The nuns there are known for being alert to their students’ activities, and are used to liars. It will also be far enough away that Hawkmoth can’t akumatize my daughter, who apparently thinks I would not be interested to know she has been akumatized who knows how many times!”

Lila: I told you it was only 2 times!

Mrs Rossi: akumas are newsworthy information! (Ok, how she missed out on the heroes defeating the villains is beyond me. For a diplomat, she is ridiculously oblivious about Paris.)

Alya: then who cast that illusion of Ladybug on Heroes Day? Lila was certainly around to be akumatized.

Lila gaped at Alya, who showed no surprise at her exposure. was she behind this?

Chloe gave a wave. “Bye bye, Lie-la”

After this, the girls were insistent Adrien learn to expose any wrongdoings or he is only enabling the bully. Chloé was more of the opinion he should learn to stand up to his father. Nino was on Chloé’s side for once.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #lila salt #adrien salt #ml salt fic #adrien redemption #adrien learns #marinette & kagami #chloe redemption #lila busted #lila gets exposed #lila is exposed #post ikari gozen #long post

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narksnrecreation · 2 years ago

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Saving The Bees

This, when taking into account the amount of hives that need to be saved and the amount of time we have to do it in, is very costly and very labor intensive. As we are creating this fundraiser campaign, there are already 12 hives (that we know of) where the landlords have decided to exterminate them, and the braai talk is abuzz with talks of yet more people looking to get rid of their bees.

Our goal is to get at least 10 empty beehives, to start off with, before the end of September (it's a real tight squeeze). Then we also have to get the necessary equipment with which to extract the bees and move them into their new hives. We were blessed enough to get two phenomenal mentors with over 16 years of bee-saving and beekeeping experience between them, and more and more beekeeping old hands are sharing their wisdom and knowledge as they hear about our cause. The only block in the road is the funding and the time.

Our start-up costs at a minimum runs as follows:

One starter beehive costs R1575.00 (now times that by 10)

One smoker costs R380.00

One suite is R1970.00 (times that by 2)

The gloves are R260.00 (we need 2 pairs)

Add the red-light headlamps needed for working at night R499.00 (again, 2 needed)

Plus the hive tool at R155.00 (times 2)

With all the other lesser costs included, the total runs up to R25 000.00.

* At Bakovensfontein, we strive to provide sustainable food sources with a strong focus on how our products can add to a cleaner, greener future.

Our Bee Project is one such initiative. Our main goal is to deliver top tier honey and beeswax products, and assisting local farmers with pollination, while saving the local bee population from extermination.

#beekeeping #i love bees #bees #save the bees #crowdfunding #climate action #nature #love #art

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

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starstruck (8)

Hellooooo... sorry I didn’t post this on Friday, I was super busy all day/night finishing up my summer college course + other stuff. I haven’t finished 9 yet so it should go up next week :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Tom Holland

Ship: Tom x reader

Setting: LA, Seoul

Word Count: 1964

Warnings: maybe some mild language idk

Rating: K+

__________________________________

Tom burst through the door of the hotel room being used as a lounge for his and his castmates’ teams while they did press.

He was late, and his management stood up as soon as they noticed him.

“Thomas! Where have you been? We’ve been calling all morning! This isn’t a good look,” his publicist started.

“Yeah we’ve been having to make excuses for over a half hour for you. Everyone else started interviews ten minutes ago. Let’s get you in there,” the manager continued.

“No,” Tom replied blankly.

“What?” they asked at the same time.

“I said no. I’m not doing things on your volition anymore. I’m tired of disappointing people and living a fake life just because you two have decided against the things I want to do. I’m sorry to do this right now, but you’re both fired.”

“You can’t be serious Tom. You know me! I’ve been with you for years!” his now ex-manager said.

“Yeah, come on. Who’s going to keep you relevant without me?” the former publicist asked.

“I think I’ll be able to manage just fine by myself, and if I want new help I’ll find someone better than both of you. You two have been jeopardizing my personal life for far too long in the name of fame and I can’t stand for it any longer. Harry will arrange for you two to get to your homes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go do my job.”

With that, Tom walked across the hall into the interview room, where he was met with a few cheers and the smiling faces of his costars.

__________________________________

“How are we gonna get her back to you?” Harrison asked late that night as everyone huddled around a table eating snacks. “I mean, I don’t think she’s going to come running back into your arms any time soon.”

The boys munched on chips and swigged Korean beer as they contemplated. Tom felt like a weight was off his shoulders now that he was free from his management.

“Doesn’t she have that friend? Maybe she could help us out.” Sam suggested.

“I don’t know, man. Y/n said she’s a huge fan. But they’re also best friends. Would she even be willing to let me near y/n? And if so, do you think she’d keep a secret that big?” Tom replied.

“It’s worth a shot, innit? Maybe she’d understand?” Harry thought aloud.

After some deliberation, the boys settled on sending b/f/n a dm through Harrison’s instagram to seem slightly less conspicuous in case you happened to notice her dms.

They didn’t expect an immediate reply. Midnight in Seoul was 8 am in LA, but luckily b/f/n had woken up early to work out since you were going to her house later that day.

The message asked her to help you and Tom reconnect and hopefully reconcile in person, and asked her to keep it a secret.

She was shocked to say the least, and unsure of whether to trust them after the hurt you’d experienced, but finally answered back after a few minutes.

Okay. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I know I can get her to this formal next Friday night if you can make it.

She sent a link to the page for the upcoming event. It was a fundraiser gala for people of all ages. The site said it was sold out, but Tom knew he could probably find a way in.

That’s perfect. All you need to do is get her there. And you absolutely cannot tell her any of this or the whole thing might be ruined

Oh believe me, I won’t. I honestly want this as much as you guys, she’s been super bummed still and I just want to see her happy again. I’ll try to get back to you with her dress color and stuff if you want to coordinate.

Perfect. We’ll be in touch.

The boys fistpumped and high fived as they planned out flights and scheduling and finding a way to get those tickets. Eventually, they retired to their respective hotel rooms, since Tom would have one last day of press before heading home.

__________________________________

Back in LA, b/f/n was now standing with you in her kitchen, watching you mix up some sauce for mac and cheese.

She leaned back against the counter as you stirred and added ingredients.

“Hey are you still going to the formal next Friday?” b/f/n asked.

“The what?” You didn’t look up.

“Remember? The big formal next week? All our friends are gonna be there.”

You thought about it for a second and then looked over at her as you turned off the stove burner.

“Oh my God. I totally forgot about that. I guess not since, 1: it’s probably sold out, and 2: I don’t have anything to wear.”

B/f/n smirked, turning to pick something up from behind her while you poured the sauce and pasta into a baking dish, topping it with breadcrumbs.

“Well I think I have the first thing covered…” she trailed, holding up two tickets.

“You didn’t,” you smiled, stepping away from the dish. “No way.”

“Yes, way. I figured you’d forgotten with everything going on and snagged one up, even though I was mad at you. Who else would I take as my date? It’s not like I have a boyfriend.”

You went up and hugged her.

“You are literally the best friend ever.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied proudly.

“But I still don’t have a dress. I don’t even know where to start,” you worried aloud as you put the pasta in the oven.

“Well… I kind of maybe looked up places at the mall that have dresses I know you’d like.”

“Oh my gosh. Is that why you want to go to the mall so bad? I can’t tell if I love or hate you for that.”

“You know you love me. Now how long is that mac and cheese gonna be? My stomach is growling.”

__________________________________

After your pasta lunch, b/f/n and you drove to the mall, where she took you to 3 different dress shops. You were relieved to find that no one had followed you, as it seemed interest in you had diminished after everything you’d said.

“I’m getting the feeling I’m not gonna find anything I like. Maybe we should just give up,” you suggested after almost two hours of trying things on.

“Come on. There’s one more place at this mall and I saved it for last because there’s a dress I think you’ll really like.”

She drug you through the building and up an escalator until you finally came upon the shop. There were some really pretty dresses in the window display, so you felt a little bit less nervous when you walked in.

An employee asked if you needed help upon entering. B/f/n showed her a screenshot on her phone, and the lady immediately led you towards the back of the store. She pulled a black bag from the rack and hung it on another one near the dressing rooms.

“I think this is the one you’re looking for. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, walking off.

“Okay, y/n. Close your eyes so I can unzip the bag. I want to surprise you.”

You did as told, putting a hand over your face for good measure. You heard the zipper and some rustling before b/f/n told you to look.

You opened your eyes to find a long, navy, satin dress staring right back at you.

“Whoa,” you whispered, going up to inspect it closely.

It was beautiful. It had a classic ball gown shape with a slit up the thigh and a beaded lace bodice. The neckline was in a deep V and the straps came up and over your shoulders. The back was low cut and a thin strip of silver beads circumvented the waistline.

“Sooo… what do you think?” b/f/n questioned.

“I- b/f/n. This is incredible.”

“Wanna try it on?”

You nodded enthusiastically and stepped into a dressing room with it. After a good minute of struggling through the inner tulle layers, you finally got it secure and was able to zip it yourself.

When you stepped out of the room and saw yourself in the mirror, you gasped.

“Y/n. You look amazing. What do you think?”

You didn’t answer her because you were too focused on how you looked to even process what she said.

“How are you ladies do- wow. That’s a gorgeous look on you,” the lady from before said as she came around the corner.

She helped adjust it a little, seeing whether it needed alterations or not.

“You’re in luck. This fits you like a glove. It does seem a bit long, but I’m assuming you’ll wear heels?”

You nodded, still speechless.

“So? This the one?” b/f/n asked.

“Yes. Absolutely yes,” you returned, beaming.

“I’ll go ring you up, then,” the employee said, leaving you to take off the dress and put your normal, boring clothes back on. You’d initially been saving up to buy a dress, and still had the funds since forgetting about it.

You and b/f/n hauled the dress bag around like your lives depended on it as you went on a search for matching shoes.

It took another half hour or so of walking around stores and trying on heels before you found a pair.

They were strappy and silver and the perfect height for your dress length. You couldn’t believe your luck.

__________________________________

Now that you’d finally gotten everything, you and b/f/n headed to your house so you could show your parents, who were by then off work.

Your dad was fixing himself a snack when you both came in the door, you wrangling the dress over your head and her carrying the shoe box.

“Woah, girls. Whatcha got there?” he asked.

“Just my dress for the fundraiser formal next Friday…”

“Oh yeah I forgot about that. I think your mom and I will be skipping out this year but I’m glad you’re getting to go.”

“I forgot too until b/f/n reminded me. I’ll go put it on here in a minute. Where’s mom?”

“She’s in the office. Why don’t you surprise her?” he suggested, so you did exactly that.

You quickly got the dress and shoes on (with b/f/n’s help) and tried to quietly come down the hall. It was difficult since your heels clacked, your dress swished, and you and b/f/n tried not to let out cackles.

You popped just your head in the office doorway.

“Hey mom. What are you up to?”

“Oh hey honey. I’m just filing some charts. I’m almost done. Why?” she replied, only looking up from the computer to initially address you.

“Well I just wanted you to see something. And by something, I mean this.”

You slid into full view, and your mother’s jaw dropped. B/f/n appeared in the doorway behind you.

“Sweetie, you look beautiful! Did you just get this today?” you nodded as she got up to look at the dress closer. “Is this for next week?”

“Yeah. B/f/n bought me tickets and then took me out to look at dresses today,” you slung an arm around her shoulder. “I basically have the best friend in the world.”

“Well I love it and I’m so excited to see you both dressed up together next week. I think this is the perfect symbol for new beginnings!”

With that you gave a “hear, hear!” in agreement.

__________________________________

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @dreamyvans, @lisannehus, @honeymoonpeter, @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven, @chenellearose, @photoshopart15, @parkeret, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @racewife2004

To be added, pls message me or send an ask. Also lmk if you’d like to be part of my permanent tag list!

#starstruck #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #Harry Holland #harrison osterfield #sam holland

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theseerasures · 4 years ago

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so you wanna revolution (but everyone’s being so mean)

this post is a response to a lot of little flare ups that have happened in the past few weeks, but most particularly this post, and responses like these. my usual approach whenever someone has an opinion in front of me in this septic tank of opinions is to just ignore them to death, but this line of rhetoric has been flying around a lot lately, and isn’t going away anytime soon. i don’t think banging my head against this particular pinata will finally break it wide open to reveal the sweet sweet candy of complete and total anti-racism, but as an ally in this fight i’d still rather it be MY head instead of, say, someone with even less time and mental energy to spare, and more cranial trauma.

you all want a civil, even-handed explanation for why you need to put aside your opinions and hurt feelings and just learn? why these activists aren’t giving you the patience and understanding you feel you deserve? then let’s unpack this shit.

for the sake of argument i’m gonna take it as a given that the allies who protest that they’d be better at helping/more people would help if everyone were nicer to them ARE coming from a place of sympathy and desire to help. i’m not here to question anyone’s motives: i’m sure you’re also heartbroken about senseless black death and have been shaking your metaphorical fist at the injustice. but i want to dig a little deeper to figure out why your sympathies manifest so frequently and comfortably in critiques of how people talk to you/other theoretical allies rather than actions or conversations that actually dismantle the systems you’re supposed to be against, and to do that, i’ve laid out a few things that motivate comments like the above.

1) Don’t I have a right to feel hurt when someone is mean to me?

this is already a very commonly discussed point. yes! you do. but get a god damn sense of perspective about it, people are dying. it is perfectly normal–particularly if you’re coming from a position of privilege–to feel shocked or hurt when someone brusquely corrects you for doing/saying something you thought was on the level. no one is asking you to get rid of these feelings (at least, not all at once); what we ARE asking is that you not make the whole thing about your hurt feelings, rather than trying to learn from the critique. derailing productive discussions about what you’re all ostensibly here to do (ie., antiracist activism) so you can bicker over Robert’s Rules does not a good ally make. when you do that, you are implicitly declaring that there is nothing in the world so important that it can’t be postponed in favor of how YOU feel. your feelings cannot be more important than black lives. if the implication is that you won’t help if people are mean to you, you are essentially trying to hold the movement hostage for the sake of your own feelings.

2) We’re all working together. Shouldn’t I get equal say in how we do things?

short answer: no. long answer: if you’ve just jumped onboard the antiracism train, it might help to think of it as a skill that you need to practice and develop like any other. activism requires training and work, and the people who have been doing it for longer generally tend to be better at it. you should try listening to them and thinking about what they say instead of going with your gut response, because your gut response at the moment of criticism is most likely guided by emotional defensiveness. this doesn’t mean that you don’t get ANY say; saying something wrong and being corrected is an essential and constructive part of the process, but Jesus CHRIST learn to read the room. if you’re with people who have been immersed in this work for years, try LEARNING from them instead of criticizing the way they say things. if you all can appreciate asshole artists, critics, and comedians in other aspects of culture, you can definitely learn from activists who don’t have the patience to hold your hand every time you make a mistake.

3) You catch more flies with honey–that’s just how the world works.

sure, okay–i want you to take a moment to recognize the incredible gall and presumption to come freshly into a history and movement that has existed in some form for more than FOUR HUNDRED YEARS and speak to it as if it has no experience with “how the world works.” what you are just now realizing might be an actionable issue is a lived reality every day for black people. the fact that you immediately feel comfortable telling them how to secure their liberation and aren’t comfortable when they correct you is the height of white privilege. this is how knowledge and politics get colonized: colonizers come in under the guise of “helping,” adopt a position that they say is more “rational” or “worldly” compared to that of the colonized, and try to take it over for the colonized’s “own good.” if you are in fact trying to help marginalized people improve their situations, DO NO PRESUME to know how to address their problems better than they do. and if someone calls you out on it, learn to be better.

4) Shouldn’t we be on the side of reasonable discussions? People don’t learn from being namecalled a white supremacist, even when they get over themselves.

you know what? you’re right. education is a hugely important part of activism, and even beyond that, the cohesion and efficacy of activist movements do depend on its members treating each other with a certain generosity. black people have shown us a remarkable level of generosity by letting us–those who have been complicit in their oppression for centuries–into their movement, teaching us how to be most constructive and forgiving us when we make mistakes. so practice being generous to THEM instead of demanding more from them. recognize that it takes an immense amount labor to offer well-thought-out critiques to your shitty actions, and even more to have a long conversation with you. realize that attempting to communicate to you why you should care about their lives and livelihood is a deeply painful and traumatic experience. have some of the fucking empathy that you’re demanding from them! think about how terrible you’re feeling about all the 2020 tumult, and then think about how everything that’s happened this year has been orders of magnitude worse for the black community, and how terrible they must be feeling as a result. think about the fact that these moments of high activism DO NOT LAST FOREVER, so many activists are rightly prioritizing direct action and do not have time to guide you through your emerging wokeness. of course learning about why what you did was wrong is important, but the right way to do that is not to pester black people to educate you. the resources are out there. other, more experienced allies are out there. if you’re behind in a class, the solution isn’t to demand that the rest of the class stop to help you–the responsibility is on YOU to do the extra work to catch up.

5) But aren’t I being generous already? I’m offering to help these people even though I’ve never done anything wrong to them.

short answer: go fuck yourself! long answer: yeah, let’s go back to the “name calling” thing again. i fail to recognize why it’s so difficult–particularly for predominantly queer and/or feminist spaces–to recognize complicity and privilege in THIS arena compared to all others. we don’t say “not all white people” for the same reason we don’t say “not all men” or “not all straights” or “not all cis”–because white supremacy is baked into every aspect of our lives. it is inescapable. white supremacy cannot be restricted by the things other, cartoonishly racist people do. it is blood that is on ALL our hands, and we benefit from it daily. it IS uncomfortable to realize when you’re not the oppressed but an oppressor in a situation, but the way to resolve that is to sit in that discomfort, and learn to be better.

so the next time someone sharply corrects you, or tells you to check your privilege, and you’re upset about it, remind yourself that it is NOT ABOUT YOU. you are literally here because it’s unfair that so many things ARE about you. watch this video to remind yourself of what’s at stake! (it’s also in gif form!) revisit these slides about what you’re experiencing! (they were made by a high schooler, so you can really put yourself in that education mindset.) sit and process that feeling and learn why you were wrong without getting publicly defensive or asking a black person to coach you through it. donate to some MutualAid funds, legal defense funds, and personal fundraisers. badger some elected representatives about defunding the police. and realize that you’re still alive. you lived. you learned how to do better, and it didn’t kill you, and there’s still so much to do.

and if that still isn’t sitting well with you, you can also try eating an entire dick.

#helen gets political #hoo that tag is dusty

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citymaus · 4 years ago

Link

“The San Francisco Board of Supervisors voted unanimously on Tuesday, Feb. 9, to create a San Francisco Music and Entertainment Venue Recovery Fund to provide grants to venues affected by the pandemic.

The fund, which was proposed by Supervisor Matt Haney in December, gives priority to any venue that meets at least two of the following criteria: (1) It’s in “imminent danger” of closing; (2) it’s at least 15 years old; (3) it’s an official Legacy Business; (4) its maximum capacity is fewer than 1,000 patrons; (5) it’s important to a designated Cultural District.

madrone art bar before covid-19.

“The Office of Small Business will administer the fund, in partnership with the city controller, the Office of Economic and Workforce Development, and the Entertainment Commission. The fund builds on the momentum of $1.5 million allocated to entertainment and nightlife by the mayor’s office via the San Francisco Relief Grant program.

“The mayor announced the allocation of $1.5 million for venues following the introduction of our fund, our conversations, and the recommendations from both the Small Business Commission and the Entertainment Commission to provide $1.5 million specifically for the fund,” writes Honey Mahogany, legislative aide to Haney. But the mayor’s office chose another vehicle to provide the money, leaving the fund amount itself unclear.

Even so, many see its creation as a key first step.

“We do expect many of these venues will also have access to the federal money from the Save Our Stages stimulus,” Supervisor Haney told The Chronicle by phone after the fund’s passage. “But with these venues, because they’re so unique and so important, we don’t want to take any chances. We want to make sure there’s a dedicated fund to make sure that they don’t get left out.”

““It’s extremely, extremely wonderful,” said Lynn Schwarz, a part owner of Bottom of the Hill, where she’s also the head booker and a bartender. The Potrero Hill venue has some money to pay the bills, thanks to a grant from the Hellman Foundation (which oversees the annual Hardly Strictly Bluegrass outdoor music festival in Golden Gate Park) and other sources, but Schwarz estimates that those dollars will run out next month.

Mickey Darius, general manager at the Lost Church (another Hellman Foundation grantee), says the $1.5 million allocation from the mayor “shows that us being the squeaky wheel has worked, but it doesn’t ensure that the Lost Church will get any of that.”

Darius added that local venue associations of which he’s a part—a fundraising group called the Independent Venue Alliance and a lobbying group called the San Francisco Venue Coalition — have conducted internal surveys to get a closer estimate of how much the nightlife and entertainment industry actually needs. Using anonymously submitted data about profits and losses and number of employees, the groups calculate that they need $48 million to cover their losses.

“We’re not trying to ask for things like, ‘Ooh, if we’re asking, let’s just have them turn the tap all the way on,’ ” Darius said. “We’re trying to be realistic about what we’re asking for.”

To that end, Schwarz and Darius said venues are hoping to make up the difference with help from the private sector, and Haney supports that possibility.”

read more: sfchronicle, 09.02.2021 and 29.12.2020.

#san francisco #nightlife #music #coronavirus #Business #culture #sf

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years ago

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BADLANDS || 1

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Reader (1st POV)

Summary: You are keen on the Golden Boy, Park Jimin but nowhere getting his attention. A late night decision to win him over leads you straight to Jung Hoseok - opposite of gold and rival to Jimin. On your quest to land the prince, you learn that not everything that is gold, glitters.

Warning: Some social drinking and maybe decisions that are kinda wack lol.

A/N: Who knew Jimin would wiggle his way into this? Not me, nope, I certainly was the most surprised.

Everyone has crushes on someone at least once at a point in their lives. Sometimes, it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it is just an infatuation that passes in a week or month or so and sometimes it is squashed down till the person moves on.

And sometimes, there is a person who develops a crush on the most impossible person in their vicinity. Don’t misunderstand, a lot of the crushes can be formed on impossible people usually but me…I had hit the jackpot on being Impossible Crusher #1.

Like all crushing parties, I was staring; staring across a college ground which currently held the small fundraiser that would equip the fine arts department with some new musical instruments. I had enthusiastically and joyously written down my name for volunteering, eager to get my hands on a good composing system.

The fundraiser itself had been of a small musical competition, the money earned from the audience had proceeded towards the funding. In return for my contribution, I had been handed an invitation to attend the fundraiser party and now here I was, standing in one corner like a weirdo and staring like a creep.

I hoped the goods the money would buy were worth it, because the fine arts – especially music, in which I was a student – badly needed it. My friends had long since departed, sitting down at a picnic table while I continued to stare.

At one point I think I may have been poked, but everything else hopelessly faded away when he was in line of my sight.

The ‘he’ in question was Park Jimin, golden boy of Seoul Arts College, star of the fine arts department and an overall fantastic person. He was an all rounder that had taken our college by storm ever since he had stepped foot over in the institute.

I don’t remember the exact time that he had joined our fray but I did remember the moment when I had first started hoping that he would look at me and maybe see something more.

“Y/N, I want you to take these notes down to the dance department. These are our possible schedules and timings for practices and I want to know if they can fit their choreography practice in.” The head of your department; Shoji handed you a sheaf of paper that had scrawling all over it.

For the life of me, I did not understand how the dance captain was going to make heads or tails of it but I quietly obeyed, bundling the papers and taking the stairs down.

The dance department was spread completely onto one whole floor. All practice rooms were mirrored, glass walled and so bright you couldn’t miss a damn thing. It was used to show off the diligence and finesse of our dancers. Of course, very soon it would become cause to come and see Park Jimin in motion.

You knocked on the first dance room, the dance captain glancing up at you where he had been talking to two dancers. You had never had much time to talk to the heads of all the departments but it was mandatory to at least know them all by sight.

“Yes,” he called.

You held up the leaflets. “Shoji sent the timetables for the arts department. Can you take a look and let me know there are good?” I asked.

The captain nodded, holding out his hand. He didn’t take one step towards me. I rolled my eyes inwardly. For all the stamina in the world needed to be captain to the dance team of one of the finest institutes in the world, the captain sure was pretty lazy.

Nonetheless, I was the subordinate so I walked in, my own arms outstretched so the papers would reach him quicker. He gripped the bundle, rifling through them and passing a cursory gaze over it.

“They’re fine. I’m just going to add a few more time slots in so I can train up the new kid.” The captain nudged his chin towards the boy who was standing in front of him.

I looked at him just as he turned to give me a beam.

The force with which he hit me was unexpected and I nearly staggered back.

The boy was stunning – like honest to god, no lie, stunning.

Smooth blond hair mopped on top of his head, crescent eyes turned into a smile that was so endearing I was sure he could make anyone do anything for him just to be rewarded with that smile.

Safe to say, I was enchanted and I remained so – till this day.

“He is Park Jimin,” The captain introduced, paying no mind as he jotted down timings to the upheaval that was just caused to my social systems.

By the time I got home that evening, it was late, much later than I had anticipated. The fact that I had managed to find a roommate and a small apartment close to the university was a boon during times like these.

When I entered, sliding the key through the lock, the place was dark. My roommate was probably still at work or had gone out as well. I sighed, slipping out of the tight new shoes I had squeezed into. I made a note to loosen them a bit and placed them neatly on the shoe shelf, trudging in.

I flipped onto the couch, covering my eyes with my arms. I had to be up in about five hours to go back to classes and at this point, the age old debate whether my education was worth the sleep deprivation started again.

I groaned and precisely at that point, my roommate decided to stride in.

Kang Mina, on first sight was alarming. With a name that sounded deceptively sweet, she was the complete opposite of it.

I remembered the first time I’d seen her, the front door to our now shared apartment opening to see a girl my age with a shock of bubblegum hair, a thickly lined eye and chapped lips. She’d looked me up and down before letting me in and despite wondering if I should, I had obliged.

Mina had given me a brief run of the house and it all had seemed nice enough; Hot water, electricity, maintenance but easy access to campus and a safe neighborhood – even if it was small. It had struck a chord and with the way Mina talked, I didn’t think she was going to be too much of a problem.

We had been roommates for two college years and even though we weren’t the best of friends, at least she didn’t hate me.

“What’s wrong with you?” Those were the first words she spoke as she started shrugging off her heavy coat.

I removed my arms from my face, peering blearily at her.

Mina’s pink hair was long gone, now replaced with her natural black – almost too black – hair. She put it up in a bun, still watching me for an answer.

“Life,” I grumbled, turning on to my stomach.

Mina grunted; sounds of her quietly moving about before starting the TV echoing in the apartment. “How was the party?”

“As if you care; how was work? What time it is?” I rubbed my eyes.

“As if you care,” she shot right back. “It’s late, nearly one.” She looked at you. “Don’t you have class in the morning?”

“As do you, what’s your point?”

“I’m used to staying up all night. You’re not. That’s my point.” She didn’t look at me again, flicking through channels. It was silent for a bit, both of us watching the reruns of Tom and Jerry.

“Is this about that guy you like, Jimin?” She asked again.

I shrugged.

Mina gave me her raised eyebrows. “Look I don’t know much about crushes but from what I’ve gathered, moping about because of them isn’t considered healthy.” She said.

I groaned again.

“You’d be right. I stared at him all through the night and he never once even glanced in my direction. Aren’t people supposed to feel when they’re being stared at? He does not seem to have that thing going. No, he kept drinking and laughing about with his boys and then stupid Hyerin began to make eyes at him. All my friends left me, you know.”

I could feel waves of judgment rolling off of Mina now.

“So, you spent three hours at a party which you worked hard to contribute for, only to creepily watch a guy ignore you and got left alone by your own friends? Honey, you need a hobby…and may be new friends.” She firmly turned to face the TV.

“You’d leave me behind.” I pointed out.

“If you were embarrassing yourself; I wouldn’t just drop you because you were staring at some guy.” She muttered and I had to agree. No matter what Mina’s idiosyncrasies were, she was a very good friend.

“Right, I’m going to go crash now. Hopefully, I’ll wake up to go to my classes; I can’t afford to miss them.” You got to your feet, stretching as you made your way towards the hallway when she spoke again, stopping you in your steps.

“You need to get a boyfriend.”

I whirled around, looking at her in horror. “What?”

Mina didn’t look at you. “Get a boyfriend; it’s the easiest thing in the world and it is also a surefire way of making Park turn his head to you. Flaunt your man in front of him to show him what he’s missing.”

I gaped at her, finally making her turn to me. “What?” She asked, defiantly.

“Who are you, and what have you done to Kang Mina?” I teased. “How many of those rom-com movies have you watched?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not a lot, but that’s always the gist isn’t it? The girl wants a guy, guy doesn’t want her, she gets a new guy and guy miraculously wants her and all ends well. Maybe, not for the second guy,” she shrugged.

“Mina,” I returned to sit next to her. “I can’t just get a boyfriend. What will I do with him? I’m not…I can’t flaunt anything that I have no experience with.” I turned my head down.

There was a pause. “I can’t believe I’m saying this…and I’m very sure I’m going to get murdered for this but…I might have the guy for you.” She said slowly.

I raised my eyebrows. “You do?”

Mina nodded. “Yeah, he’s my friend. He’s in the dance department with Jimin as well. He’s also an underground rapper. It’s a real mix, I can tell you. But the dude is okay and I can vouch that he would love to make Park Jimin jealous.”

I bit my lip worriedly. “I don’t know Mina. Sounds far-fetched and…”

I looked down when my twitter notification went off, obviously from Jimin’s account.

It was a group photo; Seokjin, Taehyung and Jungkook sitting around Jimin…with Hyerin on his lap. I cursed.

“Can I talk to him first?”

Mina didn’t look much thrilled by the notion but shrugged anyway. “We can go see him tomorrow.”

Mina’s idea of ‘going to see her friend’ was to take me through to a narrow street with barely any space for two people to walk side by side. I followed her meekly as she led us to a more open space, a door being guarded by a heavyset man.

“Hey Anton,” she greeted, pushing back her hood then jerking her thumb back towards me. “I brought a newbie.”

Anton gave me a once over, grimacing a little at my plain grey shirt, jacket and jeans. Next to Mina’s glittering silver hoodie, and purple pants, I probably looked homeless, but I didn’t let it get to me too much. No matter his personal aversion to my style, however, Anton moved aside, swinging the door inwards.

“Thanks, Ant, have a good one.” Mina patted the broad man’s shoulder, barely touching the top of his arm and I ducked in beside her.

“Where are we?” I asked.

The inside was an explosion of dark lights. Red, white and black was strewn everywhere, flashing lights making it difficult to see anything at all and I very nearly grabbed Mina’s hand like a child to keep from getting lost.

“It’s an underground club. It’s where performance pieces are tried out on an audience.” Mina explained.

“Oh,” I mumbled.

Mina and I walked past the bodies occupying the center space, heading for the bar. My roommate seemed to be looking for someone, weaving through the crowds till she reached a particular man, wearing a huge jacket as he poured over a messy notebook.

The man looked up at our approach, shooting a smile at Mina immediately. “Hey,” they greeted each other with a hug while I hung behind.

The man had thick glasses on, sandy blond hair ruffled under his hood when he took it off. “Joon, this is Y/N, my roommate. This is Kim Namjoon, Y/N. He’s one of the best rappers here and he also goes to our campus.” Mina introduced.

Namjoon gave me a dimpled smile, putting out a hand for me to shake. I took it, looking back and forth between Mina and Namjoon, confused. “I haven’t ever seen him in our classes.” I said.

Namjoon chuckled, answering, “I’m rarely there actually. I go because I need the degree but I spend most of my time composing here.”

I nodded at his explanation. Mina glanced about. “Where’s the J-Hope?” She asked.

“He’s backstage already, it’s his set next.” Namjoon told her, binding his notebook.

“What’s a J-Hope?” I asked.

Mina gave me a sly smile. “He’s the one we’re here to see.” She said.

“His name is J-Hope?” I asked, incredulously. What was I supposed to do with that?

“No, it’s his stage name. It’s kind of an inner joke he has. Don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waved at the bartender. “If you guys are going to stay, you’ll need drinks.” Mina enthusiastically joined at that, leaving me to linger behind a bit.

Was I making the right choice here? What would happen if I did meet this J-Hope, whose real name I hadn’t still found out and he turned out to be some wacko? Namjoon seemed fine enough and Mina was alright, but was everyone in this place all over okay?

I didn’t hear Mina ask for my order when the next minute, lights fell, thrusting the room into near black with one spotlight aimed at the stage where the announcer stood.

“Next up…! You know who he is…yes, put your hands together for J-Hope!”

Cheers and applause broke out, screams ranging from farther back reaching my ears and I politely clapped as the lights came on again, much more flashier and erratic than before.

Beats started from somewhere, low but quickly picking pace. It was catchy, I had to admit with a beat drop I felt in my stomach and then the rapper emerged, his words already midway.

“That’s J-Hope, Jung Hoseok.” I started a little, feeling Mina appear at my elbow, drink in hand and eyes calmly examining the rapper’s performance.

“He composed the song?” I asked, feeling Mina nod.

I had to say, he was impressive. The song was distinctly understated, the beat not really flamboyant but the words and his enunciation made up for it. Small quirks of his voice broke out mid song and the slight slur he had only made the song’s effect lasting. That combined with the distressed baggy jeans, tight army jacket and a bucket hat pulled low over his eyes – he looked like a professional.

“He’s really good. I loved it.” I said, when Hoseok finished, taking a curt bow and flashing a sudden smirk, half face still hidden before he vanished behind the curtain.

On the other side of me, Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not the only one.” He said, indicating the still screaming girls. I cringed at a few who were blatantly shouting about what they wanted him to do to them.

I was going to ask this man – this overwhelmingly popular man – to act as my fake boyfriend till Jimin took notice. What had I just walked into?

“Mina, I need to go backstage. Do you and Y/N want to come with?” Namjoon asked, slipping his glasses off and replacing them with black shades.

“Yeah, I need to make a few introductions.” Mina muttered, putting her cup down and grabbing my arm. “Let’s go.”

The backstage to the club was quieter. The screaming that previously deafened me had dimmed by now, eagerly awaiting the next artist to scream for and the lull was bliss to my poor ears and more than likely to the performers also.

Mina and I walked with Namjoon, through the small section where I spied the announcer taking a drink and some boys chatting up fans obviously.

“I’ll be going on now. Make sure you don’t leave without saying goodbye.” Namjoon called, nudging Mina a little with his shoulder before pointing over her head. “There’s Hobi and Yoongi. Go wait with them.”

I watched Namjoon depart, with a small wave in my direction that I smiled at before Mina was leading me over to where two men were deep in conversation.

“Boys,” Mina threw her arms over their necks in lieu of a greeting. The smaller boy jumped a little, immediately retaliating with a smack. “Bitch, I didn’t see you during my performance.”

“I work for a living, Min. Plus, I came, didn’t I? I also brought a friend.” She turned to me, gesturing me to come forward. I took a small step forward.

Two heads turned to me in surprise, eyes boggling a bit. “You have friends?” The taller one, Hoseok obviously, asked. This time it was him getting smacked before Mina snorted. “Only this one, actually; this is my precious, sweet roommate, Y/N. Y/N, this goof here is Yoongi, and that jackass,” she paused, heavy with implication, “is Jung Hoseok.”

My eyes helplessly fixed on Hoseok, who was looking right back at me. His hat was gone, hair falling to the front in a sweaty mass. His head was thrown back, cheekbones high and flushed. His eyes were a little narrowed in thought and he glimmered in perspiration but somehow managed to not look gross.

He was actually surprisingly good looking – hot even. I could understand the screaming girls now. If he looked like this, and his rap sounded like that…well, he probably deserved more screaming fans.

“Looks like your girl has a crush, Mina, she didn’t even look at me.” Yoongi cut in suddenly.

I shook my head immediately, turning to him with a smiling apology. “No sorry; I’m just a little overwhelmed. I’ve never been to an underground rap thing before.” I explained.

“Ah, you’re a little newbie.” Yoongi smirked, teasing with small teeth full on display. Eh, it was cute. Were all Mina’s friends so surprisingly adorable under their intimidating personas?

“What’s the matter, Min? You jealous a chick is eyeing me instead of you?” Hoseok shot at his friend, who grimaced.

“Dude, I don’t need to be jealous of you and your chicks. I distinctly remember a few of yours having STDs the last time. I have enough to handle. Besides, what if she’s already dibbed by Namjoon?”

“Then a duel can happen,” Mina cut in quickly. “Now, are you going to get us drinks or what?”

The drinks happened once Namjoon had joined us. Mina had already given me a silent signal and while I was quickly loosing nerve, I knew I had to take at least one shot. If he refused, well…I could just die in shame, never try crossing paths with him, maybe move out of the shared apartment and oh, die alone. Maybe I could get a nice cat – a Persian.

The three rappers took me and Mina to a booth, sliding in and letting out groans of comfort.

“It’s always better once everyone leaves and we can just chill.” Namjoon explained to me. I hummed, sipping gingerly at my coffee. My eyes drifted, watching where some of the workers had started sweeping out balloons, confetti and glitter. Some were polishing equipment and glasses and even Anton was at a table, nursing a drink. I saw the bartender by the front, counting bills.

“Do you earn from this?” I asked.

“Why, thinking of trying to give us some competition?” Hoseok leaned forward, straight across from me, a haughty grin spread across his face.

I blinked, taken aback. “You don’t seem to have much confidence in your skills, if you think I can give you competition.”

The comment was out before I could even think of stopping it. It bubbled out and I smacked my mouth shut, eyes widening.

Oh fuck, I did not just say that.

There was a stunned silence, a look of genuine surprise passing over Hoseok’s face as he gaped at me. Mina was smirking proudly while Namjoon and Yoongi guffawed openly.

“Nice, blatant insulting mixed with a little self depreciation. You’ll fit right in, Y/N.” Namjoon laughed.

Yoongi chose to answer my question. “We do earn some. You have to start a novice, of course. That’s a no pay show until you create a fan base and you know, actually have people screaming for you. Management gives you…a promotion then. The club hosts us, promotes us, and gives us special shows, even solos. The ones who buy tickets to watch us are what make us special. The money is divided between us and the club.”

“That’s really wonderful. You must all work hard.” I said.

“Yeah, which is why we spend all our time here; composing and writing verses. College is great and all, but we’re artists. Exposure is everything at this stage.” Namjoon added.

I caught Hoseok giving Mina a look and blushed. He was probably going to rant about how I was a loud mouthed idiot. There go all my chances.

“Well guys, this has been great but Y/N has classes tomorrow and I got to get to work. I’ll see you guys very soon.” Min got to her feet, her eyes on me. I took my cue, standing up as well.

Yoongi and Namjoon griped, Hoseok lounging back almost as if he was expecting something. At Mina’s pointedly raised eyebrows, I tossed caution to the winds. “Um, Hoseok, can I have a word?”

There was a pause in which Hoseok turned calm, cool eyes on me, his face blank. Then, slowly, fluidly, he got to his feet, looking at me expectantly.

I turned, keeping my head down to hide my furious blush. Namjoon wolf whistled behind us. “Stop it, Joon, she just wants to apologize.” Mina quickly cut him off.

Hoseok followed me out through towards the exit, taking a turn in one of the smaller hallways.

“This way,�� He said curtly, a jerk of his head indicating me to follow him while he led us out, hands deep in his jacket pockets. “It’ll be quieter here.”

I meekly obeyed, taking smaller steps compared to his long legged strides. We reached a double door, Hoseok pushing down the bar lock so we could slip out.

It was probably the back alley of the bar, lined with dumpsters, wooden and metal crates and various odds and ends expected of an underground club, I supposed. It was cooler here, breath rising up in visible white puffs from our mouths.

Hoseok walked to the farther back, leaning against it with one foot propped on the exposed, chipped bricks. “So, what did you want to talk about?” He asked. “I doubt it’s an apology for what you said.”

I frowned a little at that. Mina had said that to hide my ulterior motives, something I was grateful to her for but that did not mean I was going to actually do it.

“I can if you think it’ll help you.” I said, letting just a hint of acid creep into my voice.

Hoseok managed a laugh. “No, Y/N, I don’t need you to appease my bruised ego. Just get on with it.” He said.

I nodded, taking one deep breath. “I have something of a proposition for you.” I said.

The boy in front of me tilted his head to one side. “What kind of proposition?”

I fought hard to not close my eyes, to not let the intimidating Hoseok render me speechless. All I had to do was spit it out. What was the worst that could happen? He could refute the proposal, the least humiliating. He could laugh and call me delusional or a conniving bitch. That, well, that I’d just have to handle without trying to let the fact bother me that I did not come off as pleasant in this situation either way.

The worst of it was probably that I knew it, and yet I was going through with it.

So, without missing another beat, I let her rip. I told him about Jimin, my desire for him and what I wanted him to do. I tried to say it without sounding ridiculous but with the plan out – yes, I could hear the dumbness of it.

I was asking Jung Hoseok – popular, famed, sexy Jung Hoseok, on whom girls and maybe boys threw their bodies with wild abandon – to act as my boyfriend, till Park Jimin took notice, felt miraculously jealous and asked me out. What was the logic? Why would Jimin, hopefully more sensible than me, ask me out when he thought I was with Hoseok?

Even as I finished, Hoseok had lounged further, now looking a little bored.

“Yeah, I know; Mina already told me.”

I stuttered to a stop.

“Mina…she told you what now?” I asked a little weakly.

“All of that which you just said. I already knew that.” He waved a finger in the air to show ‘all that’.

“Hang on…if you knew already; why would you ask me to say it all again?” Irritation had flared up in my throat, fighting the rising embarrassment.

Hoseok shrugged. “Call it an experiment. Mina said you and she discussed this late at night. Weird decisions are made late at night. You showing up here were surprising. So I wanted to see if you could say what you wanted.”

I lolled back on the balls of my feet, staring at him. “So, what’s the conclusion?”

He didn’t answer the question. “I need you to know this. I don’t get along with Park Jimin a lot. I don’t have a problem annoying the shit out of him. I just need to know if you’re up for this.” He lowered his head to pin me with a gaze that was of warning and stern grievance at once.

I paused, weighing options that might mean a whole of an eventful year. Then came; the crinkled, wide smile that Jimin beamed, his golden skin gleaming in the sunlight.

I looked up to give Hoseok a steeled look. “Yes, I’m in.” I said firmly.

Hoseok’s blank stern face melted into a wicked smirk, eyes shining with mocking intent. “We’ll see about that. I hope you’re ready for a fun ride,” He paused heavily, “baby girl.”

#btsbookclub #jhope fanfic #jhope smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #jhope #jung hosoek #jhope x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jimin #badlands

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 4 years ago

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Hey guys,

This is the local dog rescue charity that we were carers for, for several years. May do it again in future, but after Debbie (who was rescued by Precious Paws), it feels like we need a break.

We have had three foster fails, but two puppers came through our home, learned to feel safe and loved, and went on to a perfectly matched new family.

There is always a demand for carers, so if you think you can, have a look at their Carer Info. Or look into the FB page, to keep your eyes open.

The best way to find new carers for animals is having a network of people sharing the Urgent statuses, which flags the attention of new groups of people. No dog will ever be LEFT on death row. They look for carers until the last second, but will absofuckinglutely take the dog anyway and put them in a boarding kennel short-term whilst a carer is located.

No doggo left behind.

It can be a bit confronting, though, so I understand if you cannot. The majority of the dogs have been surrendered to the pound, for various reasons, and the rescues in the region put their hands up for the ones slated for being put down each week. This list constantly refills, so there is always a need.

Some other dogs, like Debbie, are rescued directly from the disgusting human slime of the world who have caused them pain, injury, or attempted to kill them.

Carers open their homes to as many as they can, but there will always be more needed. A dog can be with you for a few months, to a few years, depending on their needs.

Little Willow was so scared of everything when we got her, it took 5 months to get her to trust men near her due to where she came from. But after nearly a year, she was ready for adoption and went to a new mother; happy, healthy, and confident. She was fast, smart and a very delightful little doggo. I do miss her, sometimes, but her new mother sent us photos of Willow on her first and second adoption anniversaries.

And little Gemini’s face, when her new family sent a photo from her first meeting with her human brother, was SO BIG!

It is hard to say goodbye, because they are with you for a long time, and you have to work hard with them, so they are an integral part of your life. But it helps to know that their future family is out there, not yet aware that there’s a dog shaped hole waiting to be filled.

As my parental unit says, “In reality, if they were not with us, they’d be dead. Someone without any heart dropped these animals off to be killed, and because of all these rescues, all these dogs and cats get another chance at life.”

Harvey, who we have now, was 9mths (Willow too) when they came to us. BABIES who just were too energetic or too big, so they had to be sent away. It takes a while to rebuild that trust in them.

Not to mention the absolute FUCKS who take their little old dogs, who have known and loved them their WHOLE LIVES to the pound and walk out with a new puppy (or kitten). FUCKS. Those little doggos are never forgotten, PPARs and the other rescues make sure they have somewhere to go as well! I know of a 16yo bulldog called rosie, who was snappy when she first came and very depressed, who blossomed with her carers into a happy old girl. She was adopted recently!!!

It is important to be aware that these animals are often traumatised and have behaviours that some can consider ‘naughty’. You have to be understanding. Like traumatised kids, the worst thing you can do is yell or hit or whatever, even if they piss on your favourite rug or chew a beloved pair of shoes.

They may snap and snarl. Might shy away from men, or women, or teenagers. Might cower away, or show subservience constantly. Might hide for a few weeks. Might wet themselves or run to hide if something makes a loud noise or there is a specific trigger. They might rip up the couch twice, or hump your pillows. Try to escape the yard (need strong fences). A trigger? One of our kids was terrified of men, the noise of a powertool, and anyone having the hood of their car open. Would sit, shaking, panting in fear if these things were present. Still a bit much for her, but she knows to go to a human, who will keep her safe. Or sit with her sister doggo, who will protect her.

Willow was scared of men, shouting, and would be immediately wet-herself-afraid and show her belly in subservience. My giant bearded mountain of a sibling would lay on the floor with her, and talk gently, let her come over to sniff him. Eventually, she would lay next to him, and finally he could pat her, and it progressed from there. This took months of consistency and care.

I know of another carer couple who had this tiny little dog who was SO SCARED of everything she spent absolute months hiding under their bed or sofa. Too scared to be touched. They fed her and never made a fuss if she had a little accident indoors. And one day, she popped her head out while the male carer was pretending to be occupied... and licked his arm. That was it, went straight back under the bed. But it was a huge step. She can now be held and cuddled, and loves her little life. But it took the time, understanding and patience of these carers to get her there. It’s important to note that carers dont normally have the whole backstory for each dog, but after a while, you tend to get good at figuring it out based on behaviours. Harvey’s behaviours were extremely frantic for attention, he didn’t know how to sit or be still, he was desperate for attention; his behaviours increased when on a lead (which had to be used for the first few weeks and outside time, as this was a New Household Member time). It was clear that given his age, when we got him, and his behaviours that he’d been an xmas gift puppy that had gotten WAAAAAAY bigger than anticipated. When he was small he’d been the fuss of what we suspect was at least 2 children. After getting too big, he was put on a leash in the yard, and had no real interaction.

Harvey would go BALLISTIC if given even a glance from a human. He NEEDED attention, and it took months of careful work with him to teach sit, stay, look, settle, back back, etc. He’s still a bit ridiculous, sometimes, but he can sleep on a bed with a human and only half drown them in spit (ugh) lmao.

So consider if you could be a carer. Or, if that isn’t realistic for you right now... donate.

--------

Donate, if you can.

If you’re in Brisbane, you might see them doing sausage sizzles at Bunnings on the weekends to raise needed funds!

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COVID-19 hit all the rescue charities hard. Their normal fundraising was crippled by the lockdowns, but animals are always in need of new homes and protection.

If you can help out your local shelters, they’d appreciate it!

There’s food and supplies that need to be paid for; PPAWs specifically help out pensioners who take on an animal, by providing the food and toys, collar, bedding, etc. There’s desexing, microchipping and all vaccinations to be paid for. Some animals have extreme medical issues that need to be fixed (such as a dog surrendered with a broken hip, or dogs like Debbie, who were starved almost to death. Who need intensive and long-term things; with Debbie, my family put money forwards for her insulin and eye surgeries, etc. bc we could budget for it. Not everyone can, though.

There’s also little emergencies here and there that they jump in for, to assist. [E.g early on when the caninculin levels were being sorted, Debbie had a random fit, so I rushed her in and they discovered her BSL had hit 1 - very dangerous. PPAWs got on the phone and said, “Any tests, any medication, any fluids, anything that needs to happen for that little girl, you DO IT” and they stabilised her. PPAWs also helped fund the full-day glucose testing and blood panel the next day and an overnight with the vet, that was pretty expensive. To be clear, it is expected that her starvation and new diabetes was likely to experience highs and lows, so we had bought a glucometer, and had squeezy-top bottles of honey all over the house as an emergency-response kit. When Debbie went funny, we filled her mouth full of honey and transported; which was the protocol, as was taking her medication chart (she’d been waaaay high for BSL that morning so this dip was SCARY). It took another incident before the vet decided to use an interstitial fluid monitor, and the results backed up our concerns that Debbie was having completely random highs/lows and spikes with no real pattern. She had the vet recommended food and no treats outside of the ones she was allowed, and at times suggested by the vet. Except on her last day when the vet said she could absolutely have a wholw happy meal, and little Debbie was DELIGHTED. I have the funniest photo of her with it all in her mouth looking excited but not sure where to go from there, but it still makes me cry to look at it because we lost her just three weeks ago. (We did rip it into little mouthfuls for her, though. Just to clarify.) She was placed on a higher dose, after that, and was completely stable from there. It was the testing that initially identified a flaw, though, and we are forever grateful that PPAWs stepped in on that day.

And the point of my rambling speech... is that shit happens. Especially with these dogs, cats, horses, and all the other animals they rescue. Emergencies are often the most expensive to cover for charities.

On the upside! Donations also help with a) transporting animals to carers around the region, and b) on the occasion that an animal’s new furever family is interstate, they can be flown to them!

Lots of stuff.

Think about the mess of words, and consider donating - to PPAWs, or find out the name of your local charity and see if they need help!

#sorry for interjecting all the personal things #ppaws

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cake-writes · 5 years ago

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Little Lies (Part Ten)

Pairings: Steve x Reader // Bucky x Reader // Slight Natasha x Reader // Slight OC x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, WLW & Bisexuality, Dubious Consent, 18+

Summary: You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. He’d be rough with you because he understood your self-loathing, and he’d leave bruises on your hips that wouldn’t go away for a week. You loved it. He didn’t.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. You went to him because he liked to whisper sweet, sweet things into your ear as he made love to you. He’d tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. Your little lies always slipped right through the cracks - until one night, they didn’t.

Part Nine / Master List

The party continued on without a hitch. You didn’t miss a thing during your brief absence, just too-expensive champagne and tedious conversation. Another glass of bubbly went down like water, but it did nothing to ease your nerves, even with Tony and Steve bickering about something stupid over comms. You weren’t really paying attention, instead focusing on the large room in front of you. You’d just made your way back downstairs, finally ready to play ball with a couple hundred cartel attendees.

Then a sultry female voice caught your attention, and you froze in place.

“My, my,” she purred, her Spanish sounding sweet as honey to your ears. “What a surprise.”

You swallowed thickly and slowly turned around to face her.

Your target.

She was dressed to the nines, wearing a flowing black gown that accentuated her curves. Draped over her shoulders was a matching shawl, sparkling with diamonds, just like the four-inch designer heels on her feet. She was still absolutely gorgeous despite the darkness you knew she kept locked deep within.

Her pretty red lips curled up into a smile that made your heart race and your stomach turn all at once. Everything you’d ever done for the cartel wasn’t for your father. It was for her.

“Marisol,” you greeted evenly, and the bickering in your ear quieted immediately. Your teammates must have heard you say her name.

“And here I thought you were too good for us,” she told you, this time in perfect, albeit slightly accented English. “With all of your, ah… Avenging. Please give Miss Romanoff my regards.”

She then proceeded to raise her champagne glass just slightly, almost in a toast over toward the blackjack table on the other side of the room.

That was where you’d last seen Natasha chatting up some millionaires just a couple of minutes prior. When Natasha swore something colourful under her breath, you grit your teeth. She was compromised.

“What do you want?” you hissed, dropping all pretense.

“Why, you, of course,” Marisol responded airily, trailing her perfectly manicured finger down the side of your face. When her thumb traced your lower lip like she’d done it a hundred times before, you shivered because she had. Her touch was entirely too familiar, and you hated that it sparked something within you even now, five years later. “I’ve missed you, kitten.”

Even with her taunting, you kept your head held high. “I haven’t missed you.”

Your remark made her frown at you, before she pulled her hand away, only to rest it on her hip. “Oh? You wound me, Princesa. Does your father know what you’re really up to?”

There it was. Blackmail. Her nasty inner self was starting to show.

You didn’t falter. Instead, you smiled sweetly at her despite how shaken you felt. “And what would that be? This is a fundraiser. I’m raising funds. Aren’t you?”

In Marisol’s warm brown eyes twinkled amusement, but you didn’t miss the danger that flashed within them – nor did you miss it in her tone when she spoke again, “You’re going to come with me, mi amor, or I’ll expose you right here. You must know how suspicious your sudden change of heart has been. Shall we prove it?”

Shit.

It was true that the rest of your father’s lieutenants had been suspicious since your return, and now, there wasn’t anything you could do to prove otherwise. If Marisol knew about Natasha, then she must have had evidence against you, too. You knew her well enough. She was too thorough to make a move without insurance.

You were armed, but there were way too many cartel members in here to risk fighting your way out of this. You were outnumbered, and not only that, but you had Natasha to consider, too. If she was compromised, then she very likely had a target on her back.

As if on cue, a little red glowing dot appeared in the middle of your chest, too, and you didn’t bother trying to locate its source. Instead, you ground out, “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

Protests from your teammates immediately filled your ear, so loud that you very nearly ripped the device from your ear. Steve and Bucky and Tony were shouting things to you all at once, their voices overlapping each other, but the gist was the same: don’t you dare go, don’t be an idiot, we can handle this, damn it, we just got you back—

You ignored them. The five of you had planned for a potential exposure, but not like this and not by her. Marisol wouldn’t hesitate to use Natasha for target practice. She might hesitate with you, but only long enough to torment you for a moment or two first. Then she’d have someone else pull the trigger. The glowing dot at the top of your cleavage was proof of that.

“I knew you’d see things my way.”

There wasn’t a single thing you could do except go with her. The knowing smirk that came across Marisol’s face made you want to slap her.

As you followed her and her bodyguards outside, you found Bucky standing at the top of the stairs, watching you – and when you met his eyes, steel blue and full of resolve, you made a point to discreetly remove your comms device from your ear. You knew he noticed it when his lips moved just slightly, likely reporting to the rest of your team what you’d just done. You could only imagine the filthy swears he must have received in response.

The evening breeze was cool and refreshing on your face, but you didn’t care. All you could feel was a deep, dark sense of dread, especially when one of Marisol’s bodyguards opened the door to her shiny black limousine for you like the perfect gentleman.

Your fingers embedded in the fabric of your gown to hike it up just enough to get inside the limo, but they quickly balled into white-knuckled fists, wrinkling the delicate fabric when you caught a glimpse of Steve in the woods surrounding the mansion. The look on his face – pure, unadulterated betrayal – made the breath hitch in your throat. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen that look from him, but it hurt just as much.

In response, you did what you always did. You brushed him off.

With practiced flair, you dipped your head and slid inside. You didn’t notice you’d broken into a nervous sweat until your skin made contact with the plush leather seats; your hands were clammy, and where your gown was hiked up, your exposed legs stuck unpleasantly to the leather.

Tony would very likely tail the limo, but the five of you were still outnumbered. Natasha was probably trapped at the blackjack table with a little red dot in the middle of her chest, and she’d be like that for quite awhile, knowing Marisol. Your father’s favourite, albeit reclusive lieutenant had back-up plans for her back-up plans. She was too smart, too thorough.

This entire night had been a farce. You’d just been too stupid to see it until now.

She’d won.

The ride was quiet. Marisol didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need to. She knew she’d won. You were her spoils.

Regardless, she offered you more champagne which you readily accepted. If nothing else, she’d always been a good hostess, just like you.

You didn’t want to be sober. You didn’t want to remember the things she’d made you do, let alone what you’d done for her of your own free will. You’d given her every part of yourself, and she’d broken you, shattered you into so many pieces that you’d never be the same.

When she brushed away a few stray strands of hair from your face, you flinched just a little. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. Instead, her hand slid under your gown and slowly made its way up from your knee to your thigh. She didn’t bring it any higher, but your body reacted the same way it always did with her: with goosebumps and hypersensitivity that you’d once found pleasant.

Even now, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. That was what you hated the most.

“Five years is a very long time,” she whispered, before she reverted to her native Spanish, “but your body still remembers me.”

Her breath was hot against the shell of your ear. She was hard to resist, and even harder to ignore.

Somehow, you managed to turn your face away. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want her.

Her lips were soft and gentle on your neck, a stark contrast to her otherwise bristly demeanour.

You wanted Bucky. You wanted Steve. You wanted Natasha.

When her hand finally slid higher, you started to dissociate.

You wanted to forget all over again, but you couldn’t. Not this time.

She wouldn’t let you forget.

She never let you forget.

Part Eleven

#steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #little lies

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hms-chill · 4 years ago

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A Channel of Your Peace

Summary: Following Henry being outed, the election, and the end of the book, Henry and Philip slowly start to fix their relationship. There’s blood that can’t be unshed, but there’s also a chance that things could get better.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Where There is Darkness, Let Me Bring Light

Chapter 7: Where There Is Sadness, Let Me Bring Joy

They're all back together again for the first time in ages, Nora and Pez joining the sets of siblings at Kensington. Nora's going to be running a final game in their series of D&D stream fundraisers, and she's promised a truly chaotic game that Henry can't wait for. But, about thirty minutes before it starts, he runs into Philip in a foyer. Philip looks upset.

"Pip? Everything alright?"

"I just had a talk with Gran. She... she doesn't think it'll work. The charity I was considering, I mean; she says it'll be too much to do, and I'm scared she's right. She has more of a sense of how things work on a structural level than I do; I only really know what it's like on the ground. And on the ground, you see all these people who miss their families, or who are going through hard things, but maybe... maybe there isn't anything we can do about it. Maybe she's right."

"Pip. With all due respect, which is very little, Gran doesn't know what she's talking about. She's old as shit." Philip lets out a bark of laughter at that, sounding more surprised than anything. "You know what she said when she found out we'd be playing D&D and sending out dice and having fun to raise money for the youth shelters? She called me, personally, to tell me it was undignified and bound to be a failure. She said that kids couldn't handle the responsibility of ordering royalty around, and that I was besmirching the honor of the crown by playing a satanic game with children for all the world to see."

"Didn't... those went well, didn't they?"

"They've been one of our most successful charity campaigns. So popular, we're playing another tonight, raising money for the shelters and for Bea's work. Whichever of us gets more donations has to eat a spoonful of the infamous Diaz family double spicy salsa live on camera. If we get enough, we both have to do it."

"The game sounds like a great idea, and I'm sure people will want to see you both deal with something that spicy. You'll have a great time."

Henry takes a minute, then says, "if you want, I bet you could join us. You could announce your charity and make it an early fundraiser if you want to risk the salsa, or you could just play with us for fun."

"I... you're sure you'd all want me to play?"

"I think so. I could ask everyone, but I don't really see a reason why not."

"If you think it would be okay, I'd like that. And maybe... I don't want to take anything away from you or Bea, but if you think it would be okay, maybe I could sort of... generally explain the plan for my charity and see about raising some support? I don't want the official opening or announcement to be on a D&D game, especially since it's so last minute, but maybe do a sort of soft opening."

"I think that makes sense. Let me text Nora and the others to make sure they're okay with you playing, then I'll teach you the basics and we'll get you a bear."

Half an hour later, they're sitting down in front of a camera, Philip armed with a rudimentary knowledge of how the game works and an unhinged polar bear whose role in their heist will be to be the face of the operation. Nora makes them roll for hats to wear, and Philip rolls a cowboy hat, so he becomes a cute unhinged polar bear in a cowboy hat. He explains his charity wearing said cowboy hat, and Bea explains hers in a trilby and Henry explains his in both a fez and a top hat, so they are obviously ready to be taken entirely seriously by the British public. It is especially obvious how serious this whole thing is when Alex, wearing a top hat of his own, protests that the salsa isn't even that bad, and Nora threatens that it might burn the taste buds off royals used to plain toast. When the announcements of charities and prizes are over and the Diaz Double Spicy Salsa has been placed ominously behind them, Nora gets down to business, explaining their mission to steal not only the world's best honey, but also the beehive of legendary American president Abraham Lincoln, thought to be haunted by the ghost of Lincoln himself, from a convention being held in the middle of a bustling city.

Alex, a polar bear officially labeled "incompetent", is the brains behind the operation, so it's off to a great start, especially when they find out that Bea also rolled to be the brains of the operation, and her rookie honey badger isn't much better at it. June is the muscle of their group, a slick sun bear ready to sense honey and not let anything stand in her way, and she takes initiative to pull doors off buildings and break down walls while getaway driver Pez (an equally incompetent polar bear) drives through them and Philip is left trying to explain away the rubble they leave behind them. Henry, a retired sun bear tasked with hacking into systems, has just gotten a safe open to reveal not the honey they're after, but a note from a rival team of bears who got there first. As he's reading it, the doors slam closed, and the room begins to fill with poison gas. At the last minute, June moves as many stats as she safely can to bear, and rolls to tear down the door. It flies off its hinges, and Pez bursts through as Henry hacks into the other bears' GPS while Philip, on Alex's orders, impersonates a human for the news and asks for any calls about bear criminals to be directed to him. It's a whirlwind of chaos and laughter that culminates in a nearly impossible getaway, with Pez almost giving up all his bear instincts and June nearly being picked up by animal control as they make a final escape back to the woods.

Nora closes them down in a final scene so moving it deserves an Oscar, and the players cheer, Philip joining them in their laughter. Nora pulls up their donation results and grins.

"What are the numbers, Nora?" Henry asks.

"Good news for all of you, we blew our goal out of the water. Which means, it's three big spoons of double spicy, coming right up." She passes the spoons out, and Alex grabs the salsa. He grins as he passes it down, and Pez dips an experimental chip into it before passing it on to Henry. He tries it, then laughs.

"Ooh, this is going to hurt."

Henry looks at his siblings, each of them with a spoonful of salsa, Philip looking like he might have a regret or two. Alex counts them down, and they all put it in their mouths at the same time.

Philip's whole face goes red almost immediately. Henry feels himself start sweating, and he reaches for the milk greedily as Alex pours it. He glances past Philip to Bea, expecting to see her struggling like he and Philip are, but she looks absolutely normal. He manages a "how?" in between gulps of milk, and she shrugs.

"It's good. Hot, but good. I like it. Pez, pass the chips."

Pez is laughing as they cut the cameras. Henry emerges from his glass of milk to see Alex leaning forward to kiss him, and rather than the nice kiss he was expecting, he's met with a heat that could rival dragon breath, leaving him reaching for more milk as Nora laughs. Philip is laughing, too.

Later, they'll find out just how much they raised for Philip's charity even before it's officially off the ground. Philip will open his instagram or twitter and find out just how willing supporters of Bea and Henry are to rally behind him, and even more importantly, he'll realize just how many members of the military, current and former and from all levels, support his ideas and his work. He'll find DMs full of stories and love, and fan art of them as bears, wearing ridiculous hats and stealing honey from a high rise. But for now, he makes eye contact with a sputtering Henry, and they smile, and something unspoken passes between them.

It feels like one of the promises they would have made each other when they were little, barely able to understand what a promise was. Like they're promising to fight dragons and cross oceans and go to space for each other, and to be best friends forever and ever and never fight or say bad things ever. And maybe they'll never be best friends again, and there will probably be times where they'll say bad things or lash out, but in that moment, Philip knows: he'd fight a dragon for Henry. He'd fight a dragon, and parliament, and their Gran, and anyone else Henry needed him to fight. And he knows that Henry would do the same for him.

On AO3

Notes:

The game they're playing is called Honey Heist, and I rolled for all their roles/hats, so it really is as chaotic as it seems. It's great, played almost entirely with d6s, and a super easy intro to D&D! You can find it here.

Want to support the Hannah-Makes-Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

#rwrb #my fic: rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #philip fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue

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