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quaranmine · 1 year ago

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PEARL HAS APPEARED IN THE FIC!! Y’all, there were NOT supposed to be other characters than Scar and Grian (and briefly Mumbo) in this fic but she just snuck in. Also, my recommendation? Do not show up at anybody’s house uninvited for a vacation, it’s really rude to put that on someone else last minute. Like in some situations surprise visits are fun but I think a lot of the time…it’s just so stressful on the “host.” Pearl knows Grian well though, and she’s super worried about him, so her reasoning was that if she arranged it ahead of time he would have plenty of time to perfectly clean up his life and pretend nothing was wrong. Part of the reason she wanted to visit him was because she knew something was wrong. I think Grian’s friends and family, most of them in England but Pearl in Australia, have been worried for quite some time about how he’s doing, but living on a different continent is a great way to self-isolate.

Also I shouldn’t have to say this but don’t read anyone’s mail, even if it’s out. Pearl is allowed to be a little dysfunctional, as a treat…. hashtag god forbid women do anything. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for friends to ask for financial help from friends, or for friends to take it on themself to help out where possible and maybe slip you something. but girl there’s a time and place for it!!! LOL anyway you know that the woman who created a whole cleaning service in HC S9 would be happy to help Grian declutter in this situation too haha

As for architecture, there’s a bunch of different programs but the one I’ve been using as reference for this fic is a 5 year degree with around 2-3 years of apprenticeship/internship/field training. It is generally a pretty intense job to get. Grian did his whole degree in England plus part of the training, but finished the rest and got his license while in Colorado. He did not have his license very long at all in the beginning of the fic, which is partly why he was so resistant to taking off work to go with Mumbo–he was brand new and had to prove himself! Also, architecture work often includes compliance related things in addition to designs (from what I have read.) Grian got demoted after his stunt in the last chapter, so he mostly does things like “contact the electrical company to get power to this person’s house” or “call the county to get information about the local building codes” and so on. Mumbo is a mechanical engineer.

Did you know it actually didn’t snow til really late in the season in Denver in 1988? It’s an interesting juxtaposition for how early the snow was in Yellowstone that year. I’m not from Colorado but from what I googled most ski resorts have at least limited runs open by Thanksgiving so I think it’s reasonable for them to go together. Higher elevation places in the mountains likely did get snow by late November. Anyway, I like skiing. I went twice as a kid and it was a lot of fun but unfortunately now i'm cursed with knees that like to dislocate so i don’t dare go again and risk injury

Also yeah I’m not gonna list out specific numbers but the long distance (especially international) rates WERE atrocious then, and grian is just not getting paid as much as he used to on top of having to cover all the stuff Mumbo used to. It’s not sustainable in the long run, both financially and in that it’s far too easy for him to isolate from everyone who cares about him.

Finally, a lot of the little bits of day to day lookout information I have comes from the book Fire Season by Philip Connors, that I’ve been slowly reading while writing this fic. I think I’m around 160 pages into it? It’s a very interesting book, I recommend it. You will also get a lot of information about forest fire history and wildland firefighting in general. So much of my information about when fires are left to burn, when they’re suppressed, when they’re monitored, helicopters and smoke jumpers, Grian’s work schedules and days off, etc all comes from that book.

Oh, I finally mentioned Grian’s age in this. He’s 28, turning 29 in a few months.. That’s why he says he’s floundering on the cusp of his 30s. To be clear, I do not think there is anything terrible about being in your 30s. I do not think he is old. I do think, however, that he’s looking at a couple of fresh 21 year-olds doing a summer job in between semesters and thinking about how thoroughly he’s torched his own career and life (and how life has hurt him first) to end up where he is right now.

Cicadas! Yes, England does not have them (as far as I could tell through research.) This is shocking as a Texan, given they have been the staple summer background noise of my entire life. I would not know what to do without them doing their little calls nonstop. Also, I lied a bit in that second sentence–England DOES have a species of cicada, but it’s so endangered it hasn’t been seen for over a decade and only lives in a specific forest. RIP.

The Incandescence of a Dying Light (Chapter Six)

Someone’s worried about Grian, and the Forest Service comes to collect Mumbo’s bike.

Chapter Six: 8,724

<< Chapter Five | Masterpost | Chapter Seven >>

The other half of the fifth chapter! I hope you enjoy this 1988 sequence especially, I was looking forward to it a lot (and it single handedly made the chapter so long it had to be split in two!)

No real CWs this time. I personally think that if you have made it this far then I don’t really have to warn you about the themes of loss and grief anymore, but just in case: yep, still very present.

November 20, 1988

It’s about noon on a Sunday, and Grian is…not doing much, actually. He has a thousand things he needs to do, ranging from cleaning out the refrigerator to trying to change his car’s oil to looking into a part-time second job, but instead he’s lying on the couch trying to watch TV. Somewhere along the way he tuned out of the program and started staring at the ceiling instead, mentally tracing out the patterns in the spackle.

The man on the drones on and on in the background, until he’s just part of it. Grian can feel himself starting to drift to sleep.

Then the phone rings.

Grian startles awake and sits up, scowling at it in the kitchen. He hasn’t the faintest idea who is calling him, other than maybe a telemarketer, but do those people work on Sunday? Well, perhaps they do. Everyone is home then, afterall.

It rings twice more, so he gets up and answers the phone. “Hello?” he says.

“Griba!” shouts a voice on the other end of the line.

And–it’s a very familiar voice.

“Pearl?” Grian says, just the slightest bit baffled. “Is that you?”

“Hi!” she says. “How are you doing? Are you busy?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “How are you? What do you need?”

“Can’t I just call to say hi?” Pearl asks.

“Of course, but–”

“But the international rates?” Pearl says. Then she laughs. “Oh, shush, I know you were thinking about it.”

“Oh noooo,” Grian says. “I don’t care about that at all, we can talk as long as you like.”

It’s a lie. He was definitely thinking about the international rates, and then immediately feeling bad about it because Pearl is a friend. He puts friends before money, of course, it’s just…well, it was expensive. But worth it! Pearl is Pearl. But every minute on the phone eats into his checkbook, and it’s hard not to think about.

Pearl laughs again. “Well, I’m glad you don’t worry about that. Not that it matters anyway; this call is local.”

Local. Local?

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you were right Griba, I did need something when I called,” Pearl says. “Can you pick me up from the airport?”

Grian’s head is spinning. “You’re at the airport?” he says incredulously. “Like, in Colorado? In Denver? Right now?”

“Yep,” Pearl says. “And I need a ride. Well, I could go get a taxi somewhere. But I figured I’d ask my friend first. Are you busy?”

Yeah, busy falling asleep to daytime TV on the couch. “Um, no,” he says.

“Great! I’ll see you there!” Pearl says. “Wait, how long will it take? I don’t know where you live, actually. Ooh, this is exciting! I’ll finally get to see your place.”

“Um, give me like half an hour and I’ll be there,” Grian says slowly.

He and Pearl say their goodbyes for now, and after she hangs up he finds himself staring at the phone for several moments. What just happened? First of all, Pearl’s in Denver, apparently. Second of all, he did not know this was happening. Thirdly, his afternoon just got way more interesting.

He grabs his keys off the counter and makes his way downstairs.

»»———-　　———-««

When he arrives at the airport, in the long line of cars waiting to pick people up and drop them off at the terminal, he does not expect to see Pearl waiting outside for him. Yet he picks her out instantly, a familiar face in a crowd of strangers.

She’s bundled up in a black hoodie. The hood is up over her head, but he can see the long wavy tendrils of brown hair peeking out from behind it. Her hands are shoved in the hoodie’s pocket, and her nose is pink from the cold. When she exhales, he can see the faintest cloud of her breath.

He can hardly remember being so happy to see someone before. The second he sees her face, any doubt or mild annoyance at her unexpected stay just melts away.

He pulls his car up as close as he can to her, and throws it in park. She doesn’t know what car he’s driving, of course–she’s never visited him here. He leaps out and calls her name.

“Pearl!” he shouts.

She spins around and a grin breaks out on her face the moment she spots him. He races up to her on the curb and she throws her arms around him in a hug immediately. They cling to each other for a moment, before letting go.

“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Pearl says.

“Oh, yeah,” Grian says. “A few years, right? Not since I’ve been here.”

“Ah!” Pearl squeaks. “I can’t wait to see it. I should’ve come for a visit so much sooner.”

Grian breathes a sigh, not of any annoyance or tiredness, but perhaps–of relief? Relief from what, he doesn’t quite know, but he’s so happy to see Pearl it’s like he can hardly speak. His breath clouds in front of him.

“Let’s get you in the car,” he says. “It’s so cold out here, why weren’t you waiting inside?”

“Well, it might be cold out here,” Pearl says, attempting to pick up her bag. Grian steals it out from under her grasp before she can, though, so she just trails after him to the car. “But it certainly isn’t cold at home. It’s kind of nice, actually. Anyway, I wasn’t out here waiting the entire time, I just walked out a few minutes before you came.”

“Well, don’t freeze on me before you even get here,” Grian says. He loads her things in the car, and they hop in. He starts to navigate out of the airport traffic. “How long was that flight?” he asks. “I mean, I assume you flew in from Sydney.”

“Ugh, it was never ending!” Pearl says. “It was like 12 or 13 hours, and that only got me to Los Angeles. Then I had a connection here.” She glances at the clock on his dashboard. “Did you know it’s almost the same time I left?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. I left around noon on the 20th. Then I landed and now it’s around noon on the 20th again.”

“Wow.”

“It feels like I got put in a time vortex or something and they zapped a whole day from me. And then I woke up and I’m repeating the day again.”

Grian side eyes her in the passenger seat. “Are you, perhaps, a little tired?”

“Exhausted.”

He smiles just a little. “I bet you’re hungry too,” he says. “Let’s get lunch on our way back to my apartment.”

»»———-　　———-««

They get lunch, and it’s great. They talk about various, mostly mundane things about their lives over the past few years. They’ve kept in touch ever since graduating university together, even as their lives diverged on totally different paths on totally different continents. But that was mostly just letters and phone calls. It’s entirely different to be face to face again. It’s so much better to be face to face again.

Grian asks about her career in Australia. “So, have you designed the next Sydney Opera House yet?” he teases.

Pearl gasps in fake horror. “Of course not! There can’t be a ‘next’ Opera House, it’s iconic!”

“Eh,” Grian says. “I think you could come up with a cooler one.”

She rolls her eyes affectionately. “Alright, stop it.”

“I’m dead serious. I think you could make a better one.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Seriously though, I mostly just do office buildings.”

“Hm, well that’s boring,” Grian says and takes a sip of his water. “We for sure don’t need any more of those.”

“That’s what most of the work is,” she says. “Lots of new development to work on! So what have you been up to? Any interesting projects lately?”

Grian hesitates a bit in replying. The answer is no, of course. Pearl’s aware of his job from some of their previous communication in the past three years, but now that they’re sitting here face to face she clearly wants to hear all about it without the constraints of a phone call or letter.

He just, well, has nothing to say. He hasn't even really received projects lately.

He and Mumbo came to Colorado a little over two years ago after Mumbo was offered an engineering job in Denver. Grian had figured he might as well dust off his completely unused dual citizenship and follow him here–it’s not like it was even a difficult process for him. It was the perfect sort of adventure to follow up five years of intense schooling, and an interesting place to put his new skills to test.

It had been that which enticed him to go with Mumbo. That, and the way his stomach had twisted when he thought about saying goodbye. They’d been inseparable for over a decade and Grian refused to accept a reality where his best friend lived so far away. Truthfully, Mumbo was a little apprehensive about moving to an entirely new country alone, so this had worked out perfectly.

Grian would go with him. They’d split an apartment and get settled in for a while and experience life in a new country. Grian would finish the rest of his architecture field training in Colorado and finally get his license. Mumbo would work on creating machines and learn about computers.

It was fine. It was fun. They had a good time–there were endless things to do, from skiing to hiking to rafting to biking.

Then Mumbo went missing, and Grian was just…still here, but missing everything that was worthwhile. He was struggling. Not showing up to work. Getting demoted.

“I haven’t really had anything interesting to work on,” he says finally. “There was this one house–way too massive, really, and the owner could never really decide what he wanted but he wasn’t so bad. But then I had to leave to…”

He trails off. Pearl glances at him and opens her mouth, but she rethinks it after a moment and shuts it again. She’s smart, and part of that intelligence is knowing when to not poke around.

“Mostly they just have me working on codes and compliance right now,” he finishes quietly.

It’s still an important part of the process, making sure that all of the projects are in alignment with local building codes. Sometimes it’s even frustrating, when he has to figure out things like getting a water line from whichever locality is closest for someone’s house perched high on a mountainside.

But he doesn’t have any of his own clients anymore. He does work for his coworker’s projects. He doesn’t do any drafting. He doesn’t touch any blueprints. He doesn’t design anything.

It’s not really the update that he wants to give Pearl. They met each other in university because they studied in the same architecture program. They spent long nights in the library together. He’s seen her rip up her papers in frustration when things weren’t working quite right, and she’s seen him start crying on the floor of her dorm room the night before a particularly major test. They graduated together.

It just doesn’t look good. Of course, he knows Pearl very well. She isn’t going to think anything less of him. It’s more, well, himself that he has to worry about.

Pearl purses her lips, and moves on. “Well,” she says, “that’s all very important. God knows we studied it enough. Don’t worry about projects, you’ll find some cool work soon.”

“As cool as office buildings?”

“With any luck, even better,” she says.

“How long are you staying?” he asks, realizing he still doesn’t know.

“Little over a week,” she responds. “I’m leaving next Monday.”

He frowns. “I probably have work, but maybe I can take off a morning to take you back to the airport–”

“I can survive in a taxi,” Pearl says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, you asked me to pick you up this time.”

“Mm, well, I wanted to see you,” she says, “and I had a feeling you weren’t going to be busy.”

He hates that she’s right, but only just a little. He’s sort of glad he wasn’t busy so that he could see her, since she’s apparently decided to drop this entire trip on him with no notice whatsoever. It does not miss him that she could have done this basically any weekend in the last several months and landed on a day where he wasn’t busy.

“What are your plans for this week?” he asks.

“I want to see everything!” Pearl says, and stretches her arms wide to accommodate the words. She has to pull her arm back in quick, since she nearly smacks a waitress walking by. They both descend into laughter.

“Pearl,” Grian hisses, “we’re in public!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she whispers. “I’m just so excited! I want to sightsee!”

Grian leans back in his chair and regards her with a critical eye. He’s smiling. “I don’t know if a week is enough to see everything,” he says.

“I am going to do my best,” she says, mock-serious.

It suddenly hits Grian. “Wait,” he groans. “I seriously have to work tomorrow. And Tuesday. I could ask off, but…” He winces as he trails off. “I kind of have a track record with my boss and I don’t think he really appreciates me calling out last minute.”

“That’s fine,” Pearl says. “What? I know I came here without telling you but it’s not like I wasn’t prepared to take care of myself. I’ll just see some things on my own.”

Grian nods. “I have a half-day on Wednesday,” he says, “but I think he’d be more amenable to letting me have that as a full day. Then Thursday’s off for Thanksgiving, and Friday too. Then of course the weekend.”

Pearl looks self-satisfied. “Good. I meant to plan it that way so you’d have a little time off.”

“So what do you want to do?” he asks. “One of them, I guess, since everything’s on the table.”

Pearl leans closer to him across the table. “Please,” she says. “I want to go skiing. I’ve never been skiing. Can we please go skiing? Please?”

Grian laughs again at the face she’s making. She’s so dead serious in her begging. “I’ll call around and see if any places are open. As you can see, we don’t have any snow around here right now. But further up into the actual mountains probably does.”

“Eee!” Pearl squeaks in excitement. “I’m so ready.”

“Oh?” Grian says. “I will literally bet you on how many times you fall.”

“I’ll take your money,” she says. “I’ll be the greatest first-time skier there ever was.”

“You will fall on your butt no less than a dozen times,” he shoots back.

They continue talking for a while, back and forth. Pearl tells him about various stories and adventures from Australia. She begs him to come visit–she came here, so now it’s his turn to come to her. Maybe next summer, when it’ll be cooler in Australia and hotter down here.

She’s obviously prepared for their trip and seeing him again, because she’s also brought photos to share with him. He looks through a few photos of what her house looks like, what a few buildings she’s worked on looks like, a picture of her by the ocean (she says he can keep that one, as long as she gets to go home with a photo of him), and even the two cats she has adopted.

They get the check–Grian pays for the whole thing without blinking–and head back to his apartment.

They’re discussing sleeping arrangements as they walk up Grian’s stairwell. He has his keys out already, and they clang a little step-by-step.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he declares. “End of story.”

“But,” she says, “I’ll feel so bad taking your bed from you.”

“You’re a guest!” he says. “I’m not letting you sleep for a week on the couch! You can take my bed.”

Neither of them mention that there’s a third option. Or really a fourth, because Pearl could always get a hotel room if it didn't work out, but she had asked to stay with him. She must have spent so much on flights already, it was the least he could do.

So there’s really only three options, and only two are being discussed. The apartment is a two bedroom. Mumbo’s room has sat empty for five months now, completely untouched. But that room isn’t up for grabs–it’s a time capsule, frozen from the moment he left it. Grian doesn’t mention it. Pearl is smart enough to not ask about it.

“Ugh, fine,” Pearl says, rolling her eyes. “I guess I’ll take your room. If you make me. I still feel like it’s weird though.”

Grian freezes on the top step, and Pearl nearly bumps into him. “Oh no,” he mumbles. “My apartment is–Pearl, listen, I didn’t know you were coming, so I didn’t really take a chance to clean up anything, so it’s definitely a little messy in here, and–”

She cuts him off, voice bright. “So what I’m hearing is the couch might be better than your room?”

“No, ugh, I’m just saying I’m sorry that this place looks so bad.” He sighs.

“I get it,” she says. “Don’t worry.”

“It’s not how I wanted it to be,” he says softly, and slots the key into the handle. “Just let me work on it, I’ll get it fixed up.”

They go into the apartment. Really, it isn’t that bad, but he’s embarrassed about it nonetheless. It isn’t filthy or grimy, it’s just cluttered. He’s always been a cluttered person. There’s stuff lying randomly about, like the somewhat muddy shoes by the door, the jackets shed across chairs, or the laundry basket of unfolded clothes sitting on a dining room chair. At least three random empty drinking glasses are sitting on the coffee table in the living room. And, well, he could have probably bothered to do the dishes from the last three days, but there’s only one of him and he doesn’t cook much, so really it isn’t very much even if it looks bad.

Everything in here would be so fast to clean up, but whenever he tries it feels like an insurmountable barrier. He does things a little at a time, so that it never gets too out of hand, but he can’t remember the last time it looked good. It’s just something that’s continually slipping further and further away. It feels like one day he’ll wake up and it will finally be completely out of control.

Pearl doesn’t say anything. She just walks in and drops her bags–which she had insisted on carrying since he insisted on paying for lunch–on the floor and puts her hands on her hips. “This is a cute place,” she says. “I like the lighting from the windows. And you’ve got a view of the mountains!”

“It’s cute when it’s clean,” he mutters. It’s like he knows how to be ashamed of how the place looks, but not how to do anything about it. He’s got the external motivation of another human being seeing it now though, and he’s itching to work and hide everything here.

Maybe it’s concerning that his main motivation after months on end is just so that he can hide. This thought does not cross his mind, because the sort of people who hide things from others are fantastic at hiding things from themselves, too.

“I saw your dorm room in university,” she reminds him. “You can’t seriously think I wasn’t prepared for your clutter.”

“This is worse,” Grian groans.

“Eh, not really,” Pearl says. “I think you’re doing well, all things considered.”

All things considered. Grian bites his lip. It’s nice that she thinks so. He isn’t sure where she got that impression, but if he can spend the rest of the week cultivating it then maybe she’ll stop worrying.

She walks over to the laundry basket on the chair. “Is this clean?” she asks.

“Yes, of course,” he responds, and he wants to add “I’m not that bad" to the end of the statement until he remembers the floor of his bedroom, which is exactly “that bad.”

“Great!” she says. And then she sits down. And starts folding it.

“What are you doing?” he asks, and snatches the basket away from her. “You’re a guest! You’re on vacation! Don’t be doing that?”

Pearl frowns. “Um,” she says. “Just helping?”

“I don’t need you to help,” he says, and it comes out a bit harsher than intended. “Just, like, go relax or something. Take a nap. I know you’re exhausted.”

A brief look of hurt flashes over her face, and vanishes almost as quickly as it arrives. “Grian?” she asks. “What do you think I’m here for?”

“To see me?” he says, confused.

“Yeah,” she says. “Of course it’s to see you, I missed you. But also to help.”

“I missed you too,” he says automatically, but when the rest of the sentence catches up to him he shakes his head. “I don’t need help.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t? Then why can nobody get a hold of you, Grian? Why does your apartment look like this? Why do you deflect phone calls and make excuses? We’re all worried about you, you know. We don’t know what’s going on.”

“We?” Grian says. “You’re talking about me behind my back? Who’s we?”

“Well, we wouldn’t be talking behind your back if you talked to us,” Pearl replies, matter-of-fact. “And the ‘we’ is your friends. Your family, Grian.”

“I’m fine,” he snaps. “I’m sorry to have you worried but you don’t need to be.”

“You don’t get to try that on me,” Pearl says firmly. “I know you too well.”

“Maybe that’s why I don’t talk to you,” he says.

Pearl looks back at him, for a long time. He doesn’t return her eye contact, and instead begins to pick up the glasses from the coffee to take them into the kitchen. He knows looking at her will just make him sad. He also knows that he really, really wants to look back at her.

He misses her so hard it hurts. Mumbo hasn’t come back, but she did. She was never really missing, though–just separated far, far, away by circumstance.

She takes a deep breath. “Well. Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you I was coming.”

He says nothing, and turns on the tap. It’ll take a moment for the water to heat up.

“You always try to hide,” she says. She picks up another item out of the basket and begins to fold it. “But you can’t hide if you didn’t expect me to come.”

She reads him like a book every time. It was a definite contributing factor to their friendship–they’d clicked fast and gotten very close in university. They understood each other well, and shared not only the same area of study but also the same ideas about pulling mischief on campus. There used to be a point in time where her reading him like a book served both of them well, but not today.

“I told you to stop folding that,” Grian says.

Pearl drops it with a huff. “No,” she says. “I’m not going to stop. You said I was the guest, right? Guests get to do what they want. And maybe I want to help you clean up.”

He finally turns to look at her. Her blue eyes are wide and just the slightest bit watery. He’s done that–he’s been the one to make her that worried. He turns back to the sink.

“Okay,” he says quietly, words almost lost in the water running into the sink. He says okay because he can’t imagine even trying to fight her on this. “We can work on it together.”

»»———-　　———-««

The cleaning goes well, up until it doesn’t.

“Grian, what is this?” Pearl says from the other room, loudly. She’s finished folding his things and has fortunately just left them all in the basket for him to put up himself, declining to go rifling through his dresser and closet. The next task she has taken upon herself has apparently been working through the clutter in the living room area, which is always a dangerous place.

Grian sticks his head around the corner from the kitchen. He’s finished doing the dishes, and is just drying them off now to put in the cabinet. “Let me see,” he says.

She turns around and Grian’s heart sinks immediately. She’s standing by his desk, the nice one by the window that he always liked to sit and draft at. She’s holding a few pieces of paper that Grian really didn’t mean to leave out. Because he definitely did leave them out–Pearl is nosy, and she’ll fly all the way across the world to drop in uninvited, but she isn’t the kind of person who goes through drawers.

But he did just say she was nosy. Nosy enough to read something he left out.

He drops the dish towel. “Give me those,” he says, and crosses the living room to the corner she’s in. He tries to snatch it out of her hand.

“Nope, not so fast,” she says, and holds them higher, squinting at them so she can read. Grian is, at this moment, extremely annoyed that she is so much taller than he is. He can’t quite grab them out of her hand.

“Pearl,” he whines.

“Shh, I’m reading.” Her eyes widen, and she looks back at Grian. He feels the slightest bit locked in her gaze’s intensity. It’s equal parts scrutinizing and empathetic. Like she feels bad for him, but is also a little disappointed. “Are these late notices?”

She files through them one by one. Grian cringes. He’d rather melt into the floor than be here. “Most of them are already paid,” he says feebly.

“Most of them?” she looks back at him. Her brows are knit up, and it creases her forehead.

“I, uh, get paid this week,” he says. This is another lie. He gets paid at the end of the month, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She doesn’t seem fully convinced, but she hands them back to him and he takes them from her so sharply he almost tears the paper. He puts them in the drawer and slams it shut. It rattles the whole desk.

“The top one was about your credit card payment,” she says slowly, as if she’s halfway between deciding whether to say something and not, but was already saying it before she could finish the debate.

Grian fixes her with a glare and she wilts under it, immediately looking away. He shoves his hands behind his back, because suddenly they seem shaky. His chest is tight, and his jaw is set, and–he’s angry. He’s so, so angry, and it feels like it’s burning him up, white-hot.

“Why did you read those?” he demands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to find it, it was just laying on the desk–”

“You could have ignored it.”

Pearl crosses her arms. He’s activated her fight mode, and he rarely does well against her when she tries to be stubborn.

“I’m just worried about you,” she says.

Grian shakes his head. “I can’t with you right now,” he says. His tone is icy even while his whole body feels hot. “They were laying on the desk because I didn’t expect to have any guests.”

He turns away from her and walks partway across the living room floor toward the kitchen, and then whirls around again. “You’re just..showing up uninvited, messing with my stuff, reading my mail? Is that where we are now?” his voice cracks a little on the last time. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you in three years and this is where we’re at now?”

Pearl takes a breath. “I just wanted to help,” she says. It falls flat.

“It isn’t your business.”

“You never said you needed money.”

“Because it isn’t your business.” He enunciates every syllable clearly.

She runs a hand through her hair in a nervous, agitated gesture. “None of know what’s going on with you, Grian,” she says. “We didn’t know about this, so what else don’t we know about?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Okay, fine,” she says desperately. “This wasn’t my business. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have looked at it. But I meant what I said, okay? We don’t know anything about what’s going on with you!”

“There’s the ‘we’ again,” he says.

She shakes her head, incredulous. “Do I have to literally spell it out for you? Did you forget our names when you moved to America? It’s Jimmy, and Joel, and Martyn, and Netty, and Lizzie. It’s your mom. It’s Mumbo’s parents.” She pauses for just a moment, taking in a short, if slightly hysterical, breath. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t want to hear their names again. He misses them enough already.

“I’ve talked to them,” he says instead. Simple.

Pearl throws her arms in the air. “For hardly more than five minutes!”

“Well,” he says, with a bitter laugh, “you certainly know I don’t have the money for long-distance calls.”

“I guess I walked into that one,” she says. She stops, but there’s a funny look on her face that keeps Grian quiet. He’s still standing a few feet away from her after he walked off earlier. Her face scrunches up, like she’s trying not to cry, and after another moment she speaks softly: “Mumbo was my friend too, you know.”

It’s soft, but it still hits Grian like a ton of bricks.

She continues, and doesn’t look him in the eye. “I know he was your friend first, but I cared about him too. We all did.” Suddenly she’s crossing the floor toward him again, closing the distance he had put between them. “But it almost hurts just as bad to know you’re still out here alone. And that you aren’t okay.”

Grian swallows back against the lump that is rapidly forming in his throat. “I’m fine,” he whispers.

“I don’t believe you,” she says.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

“You need to go home to visit,” Pearl says. “Even just for the holidays. Please. Everybody’s worried about you.” She huffs a small little laugh. “They’re all worried and then they’re calling me because they think I know what’s going on. Because I always used to know what was going on with you. And then I have to tell them I don’t know either.”

Grian doesn’t respond.

“They’d be so happy, you know,” Pearl says. “To see you.”

“I’d never come back,” Grian mumbles. “If I went.”

“What?”

“They wouldn’t let me leave,” he says, stronger. “If I went home they wouldn’t let go.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Pearl asks.

Grian shakes his head like he’s breaking free of her request. “I have to stay here, because Mumbo is here.”

Pearl blinks, and then sighs. “Okay. I still think you should visit, though.”

Her eyes drift away from his face and over to the hallway behind him, the one all the bedrooms and bathrooms break off of. She speaks again sharply. “The money problem, it’s because of Mumbo isn’t it? You used to split all of the rent and stuff because he was your roommate. But now it’s all on you.”

“Something like that,” Grian admits, and it feels like he’s speaking around a block sitting in his mouth.

Their apartment is nice. Not luxurious by any means, but still a decent place to live. His neighbor down the hall yells at him sometimes if he comes back home too late and their door used to slam unpredictably until the landlord finally fixed it months later, but isn’t that all just everyday woes of having an apartment?

The apartment is nice, but it was never meant to be paid for by one person. Well, maybe a well-paid person. It’s not like his landlord wouldn’t have rented it out to a single person if they could pay. But Grian had never planned to pay for it by himself. And while architecture could be a well-paying job, he was very much still at the entry level. He’d only barely gotten his license after years of schooling and on-site training.

And then he’d gotten demoted for not showing up. The demotion wasn’t in job duties only, as he’d discovered on his very next paycheck.

So now he does what he can. He pays the major, important things first. Sometimes they’re a little late, depending on if his check has hit his bank account yet, but it gets done. He starts to depend more and more on his credit card for other things. He pays his minimum payment every month but he doesn’t feel good about watching it accrue.

“I can help you pay it off-” Pearl starts to say.

“No,” Grian says. “You aren’t doing that.”

“I can help you pay it off,” Pearl repeats stubbornly. “But Griba, if you can’t afford this place by yourself, you need to just move to someplace else. Smaller. Cheaper.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he says.

She tilts her head, expression gentle in a way that makes him instinctively recoil. “You can’t keep living here if you can’t pay. This is bad.”

“It’s okay,” he says distantly. “It’s only temporary.”

Pearl pauses. She has a horrible look on her face, so Grian looks away from her instead. “Temporary?” she asks. The word is tentative.

“Until Mumbo gets back,” he says. He grabs her hand, and pulls it closer to him, feeling suddenly like it’s very important that she hears him and understands this. “I can’t leave,” he says earnestly. “All of his stuff his here. It’s his home too.”

Pearl’s eyes are wide. “I can help you pack it,” she says. “You don’t even have to mess with it, or look at it, I can do that for you.”

He drops her hand. “No,” he says, baffled. “I’m not moving anything of his out of here. When they find him, he deserves to actually come home. He can’t come back to a strange place!”

Pearl squeezes her eyes shut. “Griba, please,” she says. He notices all at once that she’s brought his nickname out these past few times, which is a fact that should be comforting but instead starts to set off alarm bells in his head.

“I’m not moving, and that’s final,” he says. “I’m not going to abandon him.”

“You’re not abandoning him, you’re just…”

“Just what?”

“Being smart.”

It hurts Grian. “He deserves to come home,” he bites. “I don’t care if it isn’t the smart thing to do, it’s the right thing to do.”

Pearl backs up. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath and exhales long and slow. “You’ll stay. I’ll just help you then, yeah? Bills, cleaning, everything else…”

She turns away from him, and starts picking up various items once more to organize them. “I’ll just help,” she repeats.

She wanders around the room. She’s not getting much done, but she looks busy, inspecting everything around her for one more easy thing to do. Grian just stands in the middle of the room stock still, and both says and does nothing.

Pearl continues to busy herself for a few minutes before grinding to a halt again. “Griba?” she asks, and Grian turns to her again as an answer. “You do have other people to talk to, right? People who live here?”

It’s a valid question. It’s a hard question.

“Of course,” he says.

“Stop lying to me,” she pleads. “I already told you I know you too well.”

He swallows hard. “I have people,” he defends. “Had people.”

It’s just that–it was difficult, after Mumbo disappeared. The new friends that Grian and Mumbo had made, they had mostly made as a pair. They each knew a few people from work, but nobody to really hang out with. So most of the friends they met were people they met while doing an activity together some weekend or evening after work.

So the new friends missed Mumbo too, when they heard about what happened. But they didn’t know Grian the way Mumbo did, or the way Jimmy or Joel or Martyn or Netty or Lizzie or Pearl did. They knew Grian as one half of a pair who was missing his other half. And Grian didn’t know how to interact with them alone. He didn’t know how to go to them for help when they’d barely been in his life for a few months or a year or two.

There’s layers to friendships, everybody knows that. None of the people Grian had met in Colorado had made it to the layer where he could talk to him. They were nice people. They wanted to help. Grian didn’t know how to let them.

So he withdrew.

“You had people. But not anymore?” Pearl asks.

“I didn’t know them very well,” is all he says.

Her expression breaks again. Grian has to stop doing that. “But you know us and you still don’t talk to us.”

“I just want to be alone,” Grian says. “Please, it isn’t personal. I just want to be alone.”

“I guess you’ll have to suck it up,” Pearl says. “Because I’m staying here for a week. And I will drag you outside to go skiing with me. I’m going to make you leave this house and we’re going to have fun together. Because I think you need that. And so do I.”

He turns and stalks back into the kitchen. He’s flipping between so many emotions that he doesn’t know which to settle on, so he seeks out something to busy his hands with instead: the dishes on the counter that still have to be dried.

If he stays in the living room, he might start arguing with her more. He might say something that will make her not want to visit again.

He’s angry at Pearl. Furious, even. Offended. He could look past her coming unannounced to visit, but the whole thing seems like a plot now. She’s got ulterior motives. She’s purposefully trying to catch him unaware and sneak past all his guard walls. She’s snooping through his things–his mail. It makes his spine crawl to think about. She’s literally trying to get him to move, even though she’s barely been in the state of Colorado for three hours, and even though it means Grian would have to disturb Mumbo’s belongings.

And still there’s another part of him that just really, really wants to go skiing with her.

Because–he misses her. He cares about her. And he misses even the simplest things, like getting out of the house to go do something with a friend. It’s just the littlest piece of normalcy.

So he dries the dishes, and she finishes up in the living room. Then he goes to his bedroom and starts working there–without her, because he doesn’t want her in the room until he’s made it look nice. Safe, even. Clear of any items that could incriminate him in anything at all. The sheer irritation of the afternoon fuels him harder than anything in months, and he finishes the task even quicker than expected, his movements stiff and jerky with anger.

On one of his trips back and forth to put things back where they need to go, he spots her sitting at his desk. She looks a little sad, staring at the pattern of the wood grain instead of the pretty view outside. He ignores her and goes back to work.

They exist like this in silence, for a little over an hour.

Then Grian walks back into the living room, picks up the phone book from the shelf, and sits down at the table by the kitchen where the phone is.

Pearl whirls around and he can feel her watching him with intense eyes. “Griba, I…” she trails off. “I wanted to say I’m sorry again. I shouldn’t have pressed you like that. I shouldn’t have looked at your bills. And I shouldn’t have come here without telling you.”

Grian just nods slightly. “Yeah.” He flips through some more pages. He doesn’t say anything else to her, just continues on his search.

She cocks her head slightly. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“Trying to find a ski resort to call,” he says with a weak smile. “Because I still really want you to drag me out skiing with you.”

»»———-　　———-««

June 1989

It’s two days later when a pair of rangers come to collect Mumbo’s bike.

They ask him if he has everything he needs, or if he has any requests for supplies that they can pass on to the main office. So Grian takes the first opportunity to ask them about the Cloud Lake Trail, and if it was really closed last season.

It’s then that he realizes that these two probably aren’t actually rangers at all. They may be dressed in uniform, but they’re just a couple kids several years younger than Grian is. They want to be helpful so earnestly, and their disappointment is clear when they can’t answer his question.

They inform him that it’s their first season working here, so they’re not exactly sure about what the Cloud Lake Trail was like last year, but that it’s open right now if he’s interested in it! Grian realizes that they’re a couple of seasonal workers just like he is, except they’re on summer break from college and Grian’s floundering on the cusp of his 30s.

They’re friendly. Grian tries his best to match the energy, for the sake of politeness.

He asks them what the plan is about Mumbo’s case, and doesn’t really expect much. Apparently, there’s a bit of gossip about the case around the ranger’s office, so they do know a little. The plan seems to be to conduct a few aerial searches of the area the bike was found in with a helicopter. They also told him he could expect a more detailed phone call soon from the main office.

That’s a little amusing to Grian, given his tower does not have a phone line.

He bids them farewell at midday and watches them disappear into the woods. Then, he decides it’s about time for lunch. He takes an hour, locks up the cabin behind him, and heads to a rocky outcropping he knows nearby to the tower.

It’s a beautiful spot to sit and stay a while, and a good vantage point into a little valley. Grian sits on a boulder and finishes his lunch, and tries to think about things that aren’t so negative for once.

He’s so used to looking. Looking for fires, looking for helicopters, looking for storms, looking for lightning, looking for Mumbo. It’s what he’s good at, so he tries to challenge himself to look at something else for once.

A few feet from him, there’s a small stand of light purple flowers with narrow, silvery green leaves growing. They’re snagging their spot in the ground amidst the surrounding rock. One of the features of his tower is a somewhat excessive amount of posters left there from years past, most of which were fire, forest, rock, or plant related. Grian thinks he’s seen this little plant several times before. He’s watched it spread from just a few sprouts in May to coating the meadows in a wash of purple the past few weeks.

It’s a lupine. Growing alone, but steadily.

He looks more into the mini valley below. It’s not so much a vast sweeping valley as it is a wide little canyon for the stream that flows at the bottom. It’s fascinating to look at though. To think how long it might have taken for that little body of water to have carved it down like this. There’s some small rocky cliffs along the edges in some places, and he can see the darker parts of the rocks where the water pours off during a storm.

It’s as quiet as the forest can be. Which, in the summertime, isn’t very quiet at all. There’s cicadas buzzing all around him right now. That was something new for Grian ever since he moved–they didn’t have cicadas in England. But as loud as they are, it’s a pleasant background noise he’s become adjusted to.

He leans back on the rock and stares into the sky for a bit, watching the handful of clouds that there are today drift along. There’s a hawk or an eagle or something flying high up there too, gliding effortlessly along the air currents. He watches it for a while.

When Grian’s hour is up, he gathers his things, and walks back to the tower.

Scar calls him on the way.

“Are you there, G-man?” he asks.

Grian pulls out his radio from his pocket.

“Yeah,” he says. “I am. Some kids came and took Mumbo’s bike away earlier.”

“Yeah?” Scar says. “How was that? What did they say?”

“They didn’t know much,” Grian says. “A couple of seasonal workers. But it’s fine, I guess. I know the main office will be looking into this again. They told me there might be some aerial searches in the future. I just wish it was higher on the priority list, I guess.”

“Well, they have their priorities and we have ours,” Scar declares. “But I think I can shed a little light on it, maybe. I spent most of the morning on the phone.”

It’s kind, what Scar is doing for him. That Scar is helping him like this at all, not even accounting for spending time scouring his notes from the prior season or spending all morning on the phone. Grian needs to thank him, or convey his appreciation somehow, or apologize for snapping at him so much, but instead all he says is: “What did you find?”

“I wish I had better news,” Scar says.

Grian locks away the part of him that is always stabbed with instant anxiety over statements like that. He takes it, locks it away, and smooths it over. He’s walking on the trail back to the lookout right now, one foot in front of the other. He can handle just another conversation.

“Well, I seem to always be lacking in good news,” Grian jokes lightly. “So just give me what you got.”

“I talked to a friend in the main office, she’s really sweet. She went to pull the records for me.”

“They’re still on file? Good.”

“Everything’s on file, Grian,” Scar says. “The government will keep an old shoe for a decade if they think it’s a record, let alone anything that relates to an open case.”

Grian grimaces a little. “Well, go on then.”

“She found his backcountry permit information from last year. And…” Scar trails off for a bit. “He’s permitted for Cloud Lake Trail. He even had designated camping spots, she even told me which ones.”

“So the trail was open?” Grian says.

“Not exactly,” Scar says. “The trail was closed.”

“What?” Grian says. “They permitted him for a closed trail?”

“Apparently?” Scar says. “That’s what I got.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew.”

“What else did she say? Who issued the permit?”

“She didn’t say anything else, so I don’t know. I’ve never worked in the main office. I don’t think she was even supposed to tell me that, honestly, but we’ve always got along pretty good since she started working here.”

“Right,” Grian says. “You’re not an information wizard…”

“I have no more information to give, unfortunately,” Scar says. “I am a wizard, though.”

“You are not a wizard.”

“I’m many things, Grian. You’re just a nonbeliever.”

Grian just shakes his head at that, leaving that thread of the conversation behind. There’s just so many questions that keep coming up.

“So we can agree he was on Cloud Lake,” Grian says. “Right? Regardless of all that, we can assume this right? He told me he was going there, his car was there, he was permitted for it, and someone said they saw him there. So he was there, right? We searched there, and he was there.”

But…

“It seems likely,” Scar says. “At one point, at least.”

“But then someone found his bike over on Pinnacles. How did it get there? Did he go there for some reason?”

“There isn’t an official trail that connects Cloud Lake and Pinnacles. It’s not a loop or a network or anything. Maybe he could have found a way between them or went on an unofficial side trail. There’s a lot of things that look like they could be a trail that aren’t really trails.”

“No,” Grian says. “He knows better than to take an unmarked trail. He said he was getting maps at the office when he got his permit too, so he would have known where the trails were. He wouldn’t have done that.”

“Grian.”

Just his name, the weight it holds, and nothing else.

Grian’s face crumples a bit. He doesn’t want to admit it. It hurts to admit it. “Okay, fine!” he cries. “Maybe he did go off-trail, maybe he did make a mistake, whatever. But it’s not his fault if something bad happened, okay? It isn’t.”

There’s another option to all of this that Grian hasn’t said out loud yet. He’s been thinking it off and on though for a long time, as he tries to fit these pieces into the larger puzzle. Nobody had any reason to think about foul play but him. There’s no evidence. But what other evidence do they have?

He went camping. He went missing. The search failed. Some of his belongings were found in the wrong place.

And that is, essentially, it.

“Do you think what happened to him…” he trails off. “Do you think it could have been someone else?”

Maybe Mumbo never did make a mistake. Maybe he was exactly where he was supposed to be, sans closed trail, and there was just something else that got in the way.

“Someone else?” Scar says, tentatively.

“Do you think someone out there might have taken him? Hurt him?” Grian is back at the base of his tower now, and he looks up at its spiraling staircase. He begins to take the steps one by one, watching as the horizon slowly inches into view as he climbs above the trees. “Did someone steal his bike? Is that why it’s somewhere else?”

“I…” Scar trails off. “I guess we don’t know if something like that happened. G, there’s a lot of ways someone can get in trouble back here.”

“And one of them could have been someone else,” Grian says. “Doesn’t this connect some of the dots, Scar? So much of this doesn’t make sense, but if someone else was involved, couldn’t that answer some of these questions?”

But the words hang heavier in the air now that he’s spoken to them.

If Mumbo had just gotten lost, or injured, or something else while alone in the woods, Grian has some hope of saving him. Mumbo is blindingly smart, with an engineer’s eye for designing devices and contraptions. He could be okay. He’s a little lost, but Grian can find him.

But if Mumbo’s incident was linked to another person, the odds in Grian’s mind plummet. If Mumbo ran into someone bad at some point during his trip, would he have escaped that confrontation? If someone had decided to hurt him, or take him, or rob him, or whatever–then Mumbo’s continued absence just looms more and more ominously.

Would he make it out of something like that? Would he survive it?

Grian reaches the top of his tower. If he looks straight through the windows of his cabin and out the other side, he can see Scar’s little cabin far in the distance.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I don’t think I want to talk about this anymore. Thank you for the new information though.”

He turns his radio off and goes inside. He spends the rest of his work day in silence, watching the smoke twist in the air.

<< Chapter Five | Masterpost | Chapter Seven >>

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footygirl114 · 3 years ago

Text

Mujer policia (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Yet another idea I could not get out of my head, after watching too many police dramas. Hope y’all enjoy it, I definitely can feel at least another part maybe 2 more depending on how angsty I wanna get with it though. Let me know what we think.

You had just moved to Barcelona from England, you had moved to Barcelona for a job in the police force. Your mother was Spanish but married an Englishman which is why you grew up there. You were pretty decent in understanding Spanish which made the move much easier. Starting fresh in a new country and a new city was exactly what you needed after a rough last year.

On your last night off before you officially started at your new precinct the next morning you ventured into a local bar near to your apartment. Sitting alone at the bar was the perfect opportunity to people watch and get some interaction after unpacking a quiet apartment all by yours self for the last few day, what you did not expect was for a beautiful blonde Spaniard to approach you.

“Hola! Debes ser nuevo aquí, ya que recordaría a alguien tan hermoso como tú.” She said to you.

You starred on very confused because you did not think that anyone would actually come up and talk to you, but also because you just couldn’t understand what she was saying as it was spoken so fast.

“Lo siento, you must not speak Spanish, let me try again in English. Hello Beautiful, you must be new around here” The gorgeous girl said to you in english.

Again you could not believe that she approached you let alone, was trying to flirt!

“Im sorry, I shouldn’t have approached you and made you uncomfortable” the girl said as she turned away bright red.

You reached out and put a hand on her arm and said “no, you did not make me uncomfortable, I just couldn’t believe you approached me at all”

A smile spread across her face as she said “I do not believe that, you are gorgeous. I’m Alexia”

“Y/N” as you shook hands and your hands lingered in a loose hand hold.

“So are you here on vacation?” she asked

“No, i just moved here actually” You responded to her question. The next hour was spent at the bar with Alexia, things were very light and flirty and when she asked if you wanted to get out of there you did not hesitate to say yes.

*****

When you woke the next morning, you realised three things; the first being that thank goodness you had the foresight to set an alarm on your watch, the second being that you were not in your apartment, third the naked body spooned into your back felt amazing. Slowly turning over you remembered how beautiful that girl was, you also saw the clock on the bedside table and knew you had to leave if you didn’t want to be late for your first shift.

You slowly extracted your self from her hold, gathered your clothes and purse from the bedroom floor and snuck out of the room. After you were dressed you debated on leaving a note or going back in and waking her up, but your alarm went off again and you knew you had to leave.

On your walk back home you wished you could go back, but you knew that you stood no chance with a girl like that and it was better to leave it as it is and dive into your new job and life.

****

Over the next month you spent most of your time at work on patrol with your new partner, or at the local gym as you had started to slack off in your fitness routines with the move. Most nights you barley managed to feed your self before passing out. You did have many dreams about the gorgeous girl you met but all you knew was her first name and that she was a local and grew up in Catalonia and that she loved football.

Walking into work the next morning your station chief approached you and asked “Y/N! You have been doing very well on patrols, I wanted to see if you were up for a change in roles this Saturday?”

“Thank you sir! What would you like me to do?” You asked him

He responded with “We need a few officers to be present at the Stadium Johan Cruyff for the first home game of the Barcelona Femeni team on Saturday. Mainly you would just be a presence on the sidelines in case any situations happen. You would also have one of the best views of the game though and you would be able to watch as well.”

You couldn’t believe it, coming from England you were a big footy fan and you used to attend any games you could. Although you hadn’t been to one in the last year. “Of course sir! I would be happy to do that, thank you for the opportunity!”

“You’ll need to be there in uniform on Saturday at noon, you can come in here and the other officers will all head in together.”

*****

On Saturday, walking into the stadium was a dream. You had never actually been on the field side of the barriers, but you knew that you wanted to be here any chance you had. You never really followed any teams outside of England, so it was crazy how the women’s team here had such support and a fan base.

“Y/N! You will be on the opposite end of the Home team bench. There is a seat set up for you to hang out on, keep an eye on the players and the fans behind them as they can get very pushy for selfies and autographs. Most fans will wait till after the game but keep an eye out before!” Your superior officer told you as he was handing out assignments.

Not realising that this team was very successful, and had just come off a Champions League winning season, you couldn’t believe that fans would actually get the crazy. At the look on your face your boss told you “Yes, this team is insanely good and they have the best player in the world on the pitch, fans will do anything to get a picture with her”

“Well what number is she so I can keep my eyes out for her then” you ask him as players start to come out of the tunnel for warm ups.

“Number 11, but that’s her coming out of the tunnel right now” he points her out to you.

At that moment you lock eyes with the gorgeous girl who you left alone in her bed a month ago, and who has been on your mind ever since. She stops dead in her tracks as she makes eye contact with you, causing her teammates to run into her back.

“Alexia! Watch out!” a player yells at her but she just cant seem to start moving after noticing you.

You now know why things never got more personal with her when you were talking. She’s the best football player in the world of course she wasn’t going to tell you that. You knew you were probably just a distraction from the famous life she lives. You break eye contact with her and wander over to your spot on the sidelines.

Alexia regains her bearings and heads on onto the field as well, all well thinking about the blue-eyed beauty she thought she would never see again. All she has done over the last month was think about you, and any free evening she had around trainings and sponsorship things she was at the bar hoping that you would show up. Now she knew she had over 90 minutes to impress you and hope it was enough for you to stick around after the game and talk to you.

****

You couldn’t take your eyes off her the whole match, she was beautiful and amazing and you understood why she was the best payer in the world. It didn’t help that every time she scored, which she scored three times this game, she would look over to you and make eye contact that would send shivers down your spine. You were glad that no fans got crazy because you are not sure if you would even notice.

It was nearing the end of the injury time and you knew you had to make a decision and decide if you were going to stay and speak to her post game or try to avoid her. When the final whistle blows and you were getting ready to speak to her, your boss comes over and lets you know that you are needed on crowd control at the players entrance as the fans were already starting to gather and try to pictures and autographs.

You end up outside the back door ensuring that no fans were able to get into restricted areas, it was over an hour later when the crowds cleared up as almost all players had left, you knew though that you hadn’t seen her yet, but thought maybe she would go another way to avoid the crowds.

After you are dismissed from your work you head back inside to gather your stuff before heading back to the station, as your walking down the hall an arm reaches out and yanks you into a closet.

You react as you are trained to do and have the attacker subdued with their hands behind there back pressed up against the door within seconds, its only when you hear “Y/N its me Alexia” does your mind stop and realise she’s not a threat.

“Im sorry, you scared the crap out of me, You definitely cannot sneak up on me like that” You tell her.

“Lo siento, I just needed to see you alone, and I wasn’t sure if you would come willingly or not” she tells you.

At this point she has turned around and you notice that she has changed out of her uniform and is freshly showered and standing inches in front of you. “Hi, i was planning on seeing you after the game but duty calls” as you gesture to your uniform.

She takes a long slow drag of your uniform when she says “Yes, you were very distracting today in that uniform, but I hope you enjoyed the three goals I scored for you”

You feel it then too, the air becomes charged and you cant help it but to lean in closer and whisper in her ear “I was expecting more goals from the best player in the world, the ballon d’or winner, la reina as all your fans have been calling you today”

At this she grabs you and presses her lips against yours, you sigh and melt into her hold and kiss.

When the need to breath becomes apparent you both pull back and she says “I wish you didn’t sneak out, or at least have left me your number. I have not been able to stop thinking about you. I have gone back to the bar so many times hoping you would be there”

You're shocked at this admission, but cant help but feel a tiny seed of hope bloom in your chest. “Alexia I-“ your radio that you had completely forgot was attached to you uniform goes off “Y/N? Do we need to send a search party, we have been waiting for 10 mins! Vamos! Vamos!”

You take one more look at her at this, and say “Im sorry I have to go, but I will be at the bar tonight, if you want to finish our chat then meet me there?” You press your lips to hers one more time before you exit the closet.

You just hoped that the seed of hope in your chest will still be there tomorrow.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso #alexia putellas #espwnt x reader

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ellesliterarycorner · 4 years ago

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Writing Royals Part 2

The last part was all tips about how to write royal characters. Writing royalty is probably one of my favorite things, and I love developing the royal court that surrounds my royal characters. Royal courts are honestly one of my favorite parts of history. All the different people crowding around the monarchs, maybe secretly vying for the throne. Every country with a monarchy or any similar system is gonna have a royal court around them. These people included advisors, favorites, ambassadors, and servants. Getting the dynamic of your royal court perfect often depends on how you write these characters, so Here are some basic questions that I asked myself when I was writing my royal court for my current, wip!

How big is the total court?- And when I mean court, I don’t just mean the nobles, I mean like everyone, the cooks, gardeners, everyone. I know I’m using Tudor England a lot as my example, but y’all know the Tudors and Henry Cavill own my heart. Henry the 8th’s official household could have up to 800 people at one time, and anyone of his various Queens could have another 200 people at their disposal. That’s a lot of people.

What factions exist within the court?- In the words of James Madison, factions forming is pretty much inevitable. Inevitably, people are gonna have similar interests and agendas, and those people will often band together to bring down other people who have the opposite agendas as them. Royal factions are some of the best ways to add some intrigue and spicy conflict to your story.

Where does the court meet?- All royal courts center around the Monarch, but where does the monarch live? Does the Monarch move around throughout the year? In my wip, all the Sovereigns live in their own territories during the summer months, but during the winter months, they all live together at Brookshire. The location of your court can play a big role in how power is consolidated in your world.

Who all is in the court at any given time?- This questions is probably one of the most important questions when you’re building your royal court. The people close to the monarch who protect them, love them, or spy on them. These people, in some scenarios, might have more control over the country than the monarch themselves. They might scheme to control the monarch, marry them, or kill them.

For your convenience, here is a list of people that might be at a royal court at any given time sourced from: https://ryanlanz.com

The monarch(s) – Regardless of what titles you give them, this person or duo is the center of a royal court; she defines the rest of the court. If the monarch consists of two people they are most likely either married or siblings, sometimes both depending on the culture and age.

The monarch’s family – people related to the monarch by blood, adoption or marriage fall into this category, and these people might or might not have their own titles and additional positions, though not necessarily always officially. Consider how younger royal siblings might be sent places to be married off, and be expected to function as ambassadors without the pay, or the many hats that a dowager queen might wear in her “retirement.”

Ambassadors – these men and women come from other kingdoms but they’re vital to functioning on a wider scale. They communicate their lady’s desires, intents and goals, as well as bring her insider news from the courts where they are appointed. When things are going well, they command a lot of respect and power, but if their two countries are on the outs, their lives are almost certainly in danger. Keep in mind too that ambassadors are likely to have their own households, and there might be a junior ambassador in play as well.

Nobles – At any given time, a royal court is bound to be packed with the country’s gentry, there to doing things such as discuss business, introduce a child for courting, serve the crown for their appointed time or because they are so active in politics because they make their home wherever the Queen does. Unlike ambassadors who are primarily going to be focused on inter-country negotiations, noblemen and women will have their own agendas to further their families, and while you’d like to think that they’re all loyal to the crown and their country, sometimes their own ambitions might get in the way.

Court Fool/Jester – We like to think of the court fool as someone who is, genuinely, a fool, but that’s often not the case. The Fool is a useful tool for the monarch because he distracts the court, and more often than not acts as a spy, passing along tidbits of overheard information or sightings–after all, who pays attention to the simpletons?

Courtiers – Courtiers are different from nobles in that they are people whose talents or ambition have brought them to court seeking the next rung on their ladder, rather than people whose daily business has brought them to the Queen’s presence. They are here to make a name for themselves, and can almost always be counted on to act in their own best interests, unless motivated by an exceptional force. These types are often at court on their own dime.

Resident military commanders – Military commanders are not likely to be regular fixtures at court, as they’re needed with their forces. But the highest ranking among them are going to be in nearly constant contact with the monarch (or the monarch’s representative, as is sometimes the case) and that will often necessitate being physically present at court.

Guests – Whether from outside of the country, rich or poor, landed or not, the royal court is ALWAYS going to have guests, and a well-established court is going to have provisions for housing and caring for a large number of them. A person’s station and/or possible value to the crown might determine wherein a castle they are housed and how they are treated, but if you write in a few guests consider that their perspective could be useful in defining the court as a whole.

Semi-permanent guests – These guests are people who don’t necessarily belong at court, and while their stay might be lengthy, it is well established that it will not be permanent. Examples of these kinds of people might be businessmen appointed to oversee some long term prospects, or the children of foreign nobles who have been sent to another country to be educated.

The monarch’s favorites – These could be really good characters for you to develop in depth. They’re essentially wild cards, and as they are favorites of the Queen, they have the potential to be outlandish or scandalous, hated or misunderstood, but the love and blind eye from the Queen keeps them nearby… tethered.

Royal lords and ladies – It will be rare for any ruler to find themselves alone; their personal attendants live to see to their needs and are never going to be far from hand. These politically powerful positions are likely to be jostled over a great deal, especially if the monarch is young, and might overlap somewhat with the royal favorites. Sometimes these people are lifelong companions and sometimes they are placed strategically close to the monarch for certain goals but regardless of how they came to be there, they are likely to share in the fine things, wealth, power and danger that surrounds a royal.

Sponsored artists – Sponsored artists could easily be labeled courtiers, except that it wasn’t usually their idea to come to court, and they’re not there for their own ambition. If the wealthy of your world are at all inclined to supporting the arts – drawing, painting, writing, performance, design, etc – they’re likely going to want to show off their investments, so in this regard these artists are usually nothing more than accessories. Though being a court is always a good way to increase one’s sales.

Guards – Any court is likely to have several levels of protective personnel, all the way from those hired by the royal household to keep the general peace and take care of grunt work to personal, more elite bodyguards. This is another varied group that can include any number of peoples, skill level, objectives and professional capacity, but everybody who’s anybody is going to have one or two. Eunuchs might also fall into this category–those maimed men who have been conscripted in guarding typically women whose virtue is deemed vitally important.

Servants – Another highly varied group, but no less vital to the functioning of a royal castle and court. Servants might hold roles such as cooks, head cooks, librarians, messengers, laundresses, seamstresses, housekeeping, tasters, children’s nurses, ushers, grooms, heralds, and gardeners. If you world isn’t very progressive, some of these roles might also be filled with slaves or bonded servants.

Harem members – This again will depend largely on your story itself, but if the King or Queen is going to be flitting from bed to bed, there’s likely to be a group of bedmates hanging around for royal pleasure. Whether or not this group is well respected or received (or even publically visible) is up to you.

#writing royalty #writing royals #writing reference #writing references #writers #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #writersofinstagram #writing advice #writing tips #writing tip #writersofig #writers of tumblr #writers of instagram

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daisybeewrites · 3 years ago

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Request: Phil and Melinda have been in a relationship since they were in the academy and Daisy is just finding out now?!

ASHAKDAFS YES

okay so i’m in the middle of writing the penultimate chapter of my academy au series so heres this lil baby blurb :) i hope this is okay!!! thx for requesting (read: i love u) x

ps gif is mine xP

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The base was quiet. It was a rare luxury to relax in the common room, humming to the soft sounds of Coulson’ record player in the corner. Daisy was stretched along the couch, computer open and one earbud in, falling into a rabbit hole of cute animal videos on Tumblr.

What could she say? She was a sucker for baby otters.

With no one else around, Daisy didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. She could feel the base around her, usually buzzing like a beehive, now calm and collected, yet strangely comforting. In a week, the Playground would once again be overrun with agents. Her team was scattered over the world; Jemma visiting her Mum in England, Fitz taking a short vacation to Brazil to see the monkeys, Mack and Elena in Italy, and Bobbi and Hunter somewhere ‘hot, tropical, and away from the other.’

The only ones who stayed behind were Coulson, out of necessity as director, herself, because where exactly was she going to go on vacation?, and May, who gave the excuse of having the gym all to herself.

Not a bad sentiment, Daisy thought, slowly sitting up. Maybe training would be a good day to end a day of self-indulgent lounging.

Daisy was already in athletic clothes, so she headed straight to the gym, leaving her laptop locked in the living room. She heard a thunk and a laugh. Coulson and May must have been sparring.

Daisy was not prepared for what May and Coulson were actually doing in the training room.

"’Sup, AC—ahhHH!" Daisy quickly covered her eyes, turning around. She was an adult. They were adults. But her mother figure and father figure laid out on the sparring mats, not-so-innocently making out was a shocking sight.

"Daisy, we’re both fully clothed. You don’t need to cover your eyes."

Daisy peeked between her fingers. May was helping Coulson up.

"Since when is this—you two—you were? I’m not even—? What did I miss? How long have you been keeping this a secret? Does the team know?" Daisy fired off questions. "Were you two going to—?"

"No! Daisy, chill pill," Coulson chuckled. "We were not. And to answer your other questions — Nothing, not a secret, most of them."

Daisy paled. "Am I the only one who didn’t know?"

May snorted, smiling softly, "Yes, I think so."

Daisy frowned. "So you’re telling me my parents got together and didn’t even tell me?"

"To be fair, Daisy," Coulson started, glancing at May with what Daisy now recognized as heart eyes sappier than any rom-com, "You were probably like two when we got together."

Her jaw dropped.

"This entire time?!"

"What are we yelling about?" Mack asked, arms loaded with bags as he called from the hallway, back from Italy already.

"May and Coulson were kissing in the training room!" Daisy shouted back. Coulson laughed.

"Okay? And? They do that everywhere. It’s not anything new," He responded, voice quieting as he left.

"Does Jemma know?" Daisy asked suddenly. Coulson blushed and looked down. May smirked knowingly.

"Oh. My. God!" Daisy cried. "How did she manage to keep this big of a secret from her own girlfriend?!"

Coulson shrugged.

"So are y’all married, too? Any other kids I should know about? Do I have secret siblings?" Daisy joked, finally past the shock. She ran out, dialing Jemma, before they could answer.

"We will never hear the end of this, will we?" Coulson asked May. May shook her head, kissing his shoulder then leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"No way, not ever."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sooooo…,, when’s the wedding tho?

ahhhhh thank you again for this request it made me so happy :D

want to request a fic? consult my (sorta kinda) reliable ask box!

#philinda #philindaisy #daisy johnson #phillip j coulson #phil coulson #melinda may #coulson x may #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos blurb #daisy johnson blurb #daisy johnson x jemma simmons #ash writes

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cutie--q · 2 years ago

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here we go, y’all, the part 2 that no one asked for!!! :D

AND WHEN YOU LOOK AT THE SEGMENT DESCRIPTIONS, you could make out a timeline of how pinky and the brain’s relationship progresses throughout the season.

(before i get into the next part, i feel the need to emphasize that is speculation, plain and simple. from my pov, i look like a nut but am having a lot of lighthearted fun! so if you read this crack theory, PLEASE be cautious and don’t hope too hard for this to be real in the chances that brinky doesn’t become canon, cause disappointment when it comes to 100% believing speculation sucks to all hell.)

so taking the last pinky and the brain segment of season 2 into account, the gang (pinky and the brain) are starting to feel sparks of something new for their relationship. brain is shocked by his own openness regarding his actions. he’s aware that he doesn’t know how to be “emotionally open” enough, so why was it so easy then to be out of all times? 🤔

WHATEVER!!! it was a weird, confusing moment! all that matters is that he and pinky are friends again.

…only for the first pinky and the brain segment of season 3 to be about them having friendship conflicts.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

like i said before on this blog, the crew seems to be setting the stage for an intimate focus on the mice’s relationship (and subsequently, what they mean to each other) with this being the first season 3 segment.

the next segment is “royal flush,” where, quote, “Brain plans to rig a high stakes poker game to become the new king of England,” end quote. nothing peculiar about this premise. however…

it appears from the leaked thumbnail of the segment that pinky and the brain are posing as a couple. so there could be some shippy moments?? i am Reaching here lmao

for the next few segments, i can’t see anything out of the ordinary there, so i have no choice but to assume they’re just typical pinky and the brain segments.

and THEN we get to season 3 episodes 5-6, which contains both parts of “groundmouse day.” refer to the theory above.

so does it really seem like a coincidence that after whatever tf happens in the two parter of “groundmouse day,” that brain suddenly creates a virtual reality machine, specifying that pinky cannot use it? that struck me as a bit odd!! to be fair, brain does that sometimes so pinky can’t mess up the machinery, but usually whatever invention brain creates is made with the intention that they’re both gonna use it. they’re a two for one type of deal.

and then we see in the leaked thumbnail that brain’s dating a fake julia in this virtual reality, so it’s like “ohhhhhh, okay, i see why brain forbid pinky from it, now” shkshdksjsjajs

off topic, but do you know when you’re questioning if you’re queer, and you can NOT stop thinking about it, and nearly every second of everyday keep retesting yourself because you really want to know this part of your identity, so you put yourself through made up scenarios and see how you feel about being seen as queer? because some part of me feels like this is EXACTLY what brain is doing here, but in a more visual way. (i am Projecting)

i’m guessing pinky becomes angry at something about brain’s virtual world (most likely having to do with brain excluding him from these fake scenarios, not even making a virtual pinky to be alongside him). overall, this segment will certainly be a brain character development episode.

noticeably, there’s no pinky and the brain segment next episode. maybe this is to represent that the mice are processing the events of the last segment?…

and then BLAM! the pinky and the brain christmas special: the squeakquel.

like. huh. what the FUCK is this!!!!!!!!!!! /positive

i’m gonna be real with y’all, it looks like they just pulled away from a kiss. 🥺🥺🥺

it would makes sense for them to confess their feelings for one another in a christmas special, considering that christmas holds a lot of significance for the two. and shit has been (at least in this crack ass theory) building UP recently. it would make sense for that to result in a kiss!!! (a mistletoe kiss, mayhaps?? 👀👀👀)

and the final segment of the season is “international mouse of mystery.” the description for this segment reads, “Pinky and Brain are the stars of a secret agent movie franchise.”

i will level with you and confess that i watched the austin powers movies because i thought that was gonna be the parody here, but it turns out that nope! it’s a parody of the original source material, not the parody that is austin powers. 🥲

but idfk, the main characters of most secret agent movies probably are a male and female spy, so insert that accordingly with how pinky is open to dressing gnc and… oh! they might be placed in a romantic role together! neat >:]c

(imagine in between takes they make out backstage dhskdhkshdkajs /joking)

but yeah! that was the end of my off the walls, 99% chance isn’t gonna happen brinky crack theory! i hope you guys had as much fun thinking about this as i did :D

ALRIGHT i only got three hours of sleep before my body decided that that was Enough, so it’s time to spew my confusing joke/crack theories (they are all ship related because i can understand and throw together stuff related to that vs the complexities of character dynamics)

#long post #animaniacs spoilers #liz rambles #you guys are finally seeing WHY i picked my talking tag as my talking tag ahahaha

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lariskapargitay · 2 years ago

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Headcanons/Deleted Scenes for Waiting To Get Rid of a Miracle

Dolores & César were originally gonna move to New York for a (non soccer) job he was taking bc I’m American and I know my country better than England … but I also know my countries history better as well…. And I thought about it for a second… and a Black girl intentionally moving to the US in 1950 (where her marriage wouldn’t even be legal in most states and Pepa & Felix sure as shit wouldn’t ever come visit for the same reasons) is not a good idea. So yeah, that’s why they went to London so he could play soccer instead.

The bath scene between Pepa and Diego was gonna be a lot different. She originally was going to close her eyes, imagine Félix and get it over with when he wanted sex, starting to cry midway through and he just doesn’t care or notice. And that would have been the sexual assault moment instead of the drunken more typical sexual assault scene.

Diego was gonna be inappropriate with Dolores. Like not explicit or obvious or obnoxious, but JUST enough that Dolores is uncomfortable and he’s just talking to her and touching her and just treating her in no way like how a step father shouldn’t do to their step daughter, but then that would have been a ‘fuck that, don’t care, get tf out’ moment for Pepa. Her kids being scared or upset bc of what’s happening to her is one thing but one of her kids being hurt and someone being inappropriate with her daughter directly? 1000% nogo.

Félix was gonna take Pepa to the ballet when Diego bails on her after he has to go to work. He also got a ticket, she was going to just go by herself, they meet up. It would have been sweet and genuine and sweet and led to the scene of Félix and Pepa when she takes the trash out.

Bruno was originally going to somehow but not really but somewhat know that Pepa wasn’t part of that world. But me and my beta both decided that it would be better if he was just like ‘oh you’re from an alternate universe where everyone has magic powers and wanna get back there? Cool.’

Pepa was originally gonna go with Diego after the big fight but I thought y’all deserved one chapter of just good things

Pepa originally wasn’t going to have any physical marks or scars left over from Diego’s abuse in the ‘real world’. But I liked the idea of her being bruised and then not disappearing a LOT and Félix having even more proof that SOMETHING happened to her.

Félix wasn’t originally gonna die, but I had to have SOMETHING big enough to trigger her going ‘I’m sorry, Pedro, I can’t do this’. Bc that’s what she essentially did, trade Pedro’s life for her old one. Then for a bit it was going to be Camilo who died but Félix dying didn’t necessarily hit harder, but all the aftermath would have been a lot different bc, obviously , she wouldn’t have been able to reunite with Camilo the way she would have with Félix and I liked the husband/wife aspect more than the mother/son

Up until basicslly I posted it, she was supposed to immediately go back after she slept at the River. For the LONGEST time, up until the chapter was posted, Pedro was going to meet her at the river and talk to her there. But I couldn’t figure out how to get him there without it sounding convoluted so that’s why they had their final talk in the bedroom where he basically gives her ‘permission’ to kill him off and why the River didn’t work, she had to have that final talk with Pedro.

Pedro would have known SOMETHING was going to happen at the river with Pepa, bc you can’t go to the place of your death and you’re a few minutes away from not existing anymore and not feel SOMETHING. But either way he’s perfectly 100% okay with it, bc he knows somehow, this is going to make his family okay again, this is going to protect his child, and that was all he wanted

Ricarda married a super sweet amazing fantastic guy in the Encanto who helps her heal from Diego’s abuse. She and her son son are happy and Tomas is Antonio’s bestie.

Ceśar eventually gets together with a leggy dance studio owning milf, Aurora gets a hot young soccer stud and they move to England together (although Aurora would be lying if she didn’t think that man with the strange red headed wife was fucking HOT, and he was on her mind for a while).

Sofía was made co-owner of the new salon that Dona Lopez opens, which became one of the best in Bogata. They name it ‘Pepa’s’ after the mysterious benefactor who gave them the start up

Diego never married again. People literally flinch and can’t stand to look at his scars that he doesn’t even really take care of so they grow even fouler and pus riddled for a while from the infection. He still has nightmares about the red headed woman who the police never found. He cannot forget what he did to her. Several miserable years of being alone later he gets super drunk one night, stumbles out of the bar where he’s just known as the old angry drunk with no friends and no job, gets hit by a bus and dies.

Pepa still has nightmares too. Sometimes she’ll wake up in the dark thinking he’s standing over her, and she’ll start crying and shaking. Or she’ll imagine she’s holding Felix’s dead body in her arms. Félix holds her tight until she’s okay again, before he, without a word, goes and turns on the shower for her, occasionally getting in with her not for sexitiems, but just to hold her and let her know she’s safe, that their world is real, that Diego can’t ever touch her again. Félix knows not to kiss or touch her face on those days. She never tells anyone else what happened to her and her family respects her enough not to ask. She’s terrified that Diego will somehow find the Encanto, even knowing it would be nearly impossible. One day, as if by magic, there’s a newspaper clipping that appears one day out of the blue. It’s a small little article about a drunken man who wondered in front of a car and died coming out of the bar along with a mugshot of a heavily scarred disheveled Diego

She rolls her eyes at something Félix says that night and doesn’t feel fear for the first time in years.

#encanto #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #encanto pepa #encanto fanfic #encanto fic #encanto thoughts #camilo madrigal #wtgroam #the last few ones are subjective depending on if I ever own a sequel

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland request #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

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pushpinsheep · 3 years ago

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Hopefully this puts things in greater perspective because some tourists just don’t get it and need to hear this. For those who are curious and looking to travel in the future I hope you find this is informative! :) We could all use more perspective on linguistics and traveling imho. I have made some of these mistakes in the past too. We can all learn to be better guests/tourists. This mindset people have that not only is it okay for tourists to exploit and mistreat local populations, but it’s something that should be encouraged is wrong. You’re not entitled to anything special as a tourist just because you have enough money to play around somewhere “exotic” for a few weeks. Regardless of where people travel to. As a guest in someone else’s home you should put more effort into not being a total asshat. You will have a better time and you might learn something cool along the way. I will mostly be using France as an example since I live here and have more insight, but everything I say applies outside of France as well. Note: This information only applies to tourists. Immigrants and refugees are a unique situation and thus face different challenges and have different needs. A tourist chooses where to go and has time (and money) to plan for their trip, which is often only a few weeks or days. Immigrants and refugees often don’t have that same luxury and remain in the country for far longer. (in many cases permanently) Moving to a country places a greater linguistic and cultural demand on an individual. Remember to check your privilege. tourism =/= immigration/asylum. A) English is not the only language in existence. It might be a widely spoken language, but it’s not the most widely spoken language (that honor goes to Chinese) nor is it the only lingua franca. Chinese, Hindu, Spanish, French, and Arabic are all widely spoken across multiple borders and where you are on the planet will obviously dictate which one of these people go with. If you expect that to be English because your sphere of the internet happens to put you in that bubble of “my language or bust” ignorance then like... that’s on you pal. Get with the times and stop assuming everyone should just speak English. English speakers are not the only tourists and English, though widely used, is not the only other language a person might need. I have a friend from Laos who speaks absolutely no English. He doesn’t need it and never has. (even now) He speaks Lao (the regional dialects can be as different as Thai is from Laotian btw), Chinese, a bit of Thai, and French because they still use a lot of French for business dealings there. (something I didn’t know ngl) Assuming he should just speak English because “everyone else does” is ignorant. It’s rude. It puts no thought into his situation. It’s entitled. He’s traveled to visit friends in England and he has an English phrase book. He doesn’t need a lot of English so like... the phrase book is absolutely perfect. Most of what he does in England is sight see and speak Chinese with his friends. Be more like my friend from Laos. B) Official languages may not be the only language a country speaks within its borders. Regional and native languages exist and expecting the locals to speak a 3rd language on top of all that is unbelievably entitled. France has a number of them. There are people who are born and raised in France who don’t speak French in their day to day life. (or at all) Basque, Breton, Occitan, Alsatian, Yiddish, Ladino, Arabic and a number of others are all spoken within French borders. Many are at risk of being permanently lost (that’s why our new regional language law is important btw) and as a result a greater emphasis is placed on preserving them as opposed to learning something new. Most people have to learn the official language as it’s the only language a lot of countries will accept for paperwork, but anything else is up to the individual and you can suck an egg if you don’t like that. (this also applies to immigrants and refugees btw) Heck there are places in the US where people don’t even speak English day to day! Some places actually speak French or Spanish. I heard more Spanish in my day to day life than I did English where I grew up in NC! (moved to Florida and Spanish exploded. loved it!) C) Borders are a thing. People working and living across borders exist and English is often not the language they chose to go with as a result. France borders Germany, Spain, Italy, Belgium, England, and Switzerland. People who share these borders often choose to go with these languages. English is in there, but please note it’s not the only one. D) Culturally speaking a country may not like [insert common language here] and as a result may refuse to speak it. That’s entirely their choice. If you don’t like that then don’t visit the country. It’s really that easy. Colonialism is often a major factor at play in these situations. Respect that choice. You do not get a say in how people reclaim their identity. As for France? This might come as a shock to some people, but France doesn’t like England. I’m 100% certain these two places exist solely to punch each other in the nuts. (ball tap. an international past time) As a result getting English people to speak French or French people to speak English is about as easy as pulling your own teeth. I’ve been spit on for speaking English because people here just assume I’m from England or they hate “annoying Americans” and after seeing how y’all responded to the last post I made... yeah I totally get it now. Granted, that’s no excuse for someone being hostile, but it is something to keep in mind when you visit and applies to more than just France too. E) Retail workers and small shop owners don’t owe you shit. You have absolutely no right waltzing into a shop and demanding the staff speak your language (I don’t care how common it is) for the two weeks you’ve decided to play around in their home. Always ask them first. If they can’t or choose not to then tough luck. This is why a phrase book is important!

Retail workers and small shop owners get treated like shit enough. Some of y’all have never worked retail a day in your life and WOW does it show. Please respect retail workers and small shop owners. You don’t know what their day or life has been like. If they’re tired and don’t want to speak to you in a foreign language then that’s their right. I have had no issues using my phone or a phrase book to help communicate concepts when there is a language barrier. (and I fucking live in France. I’m not even visiting) Emergencies also happen and a phrase book or medical card in the native and/or official language is absolutely essential! Even if you just have an allergy to something! This is a great way to stay safe! When you visit another country being aware of and researching cultural differences includes linguistic differences. Tourists are guests. You don’t live here, you don’t get a say. Remember, learning a second language (esp if you don’t use it often) is really hard. If you’re visiting a country do not expect them to just use whatever language you speak. Mind you a phrase book is also important because people within a country may not have a strong grasp on English even if they do speak it. You can very easily get lost or injured without a phrase book to help you. These things allow you to better experience a country and communicate without actually having to learn the entire language... or any of it. And, once again, they exist for free online! You do not need to learn an entire language to visit somewhere, but you need to be prepared for there to be a barrier. People assuming I mean you need to learn a whole language are uh... really something else. Like do you guys think half the people bending over backwards to communicate with you know the full language? Go ahead. Fuck around and find out. ;) Obviously I’m not saying you should be treated poorly when visiting if you don’t know the language. Unfortunately no matter how much effort you put in there will always be someone who’s a jerk and I’m sorry for that. All I’m saying is as a tourist you owe it to yourself and others to be better prepared. Trust me. You’ll have a better time in the end. (and if you did the research you’d find that Paris is not the best first place to visit... even if you’re french lol) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GS64ZT4eWUA Please watch this guy’s video. It is hilarious and touches on a lot of the same points I just made. Thank you for your time. :) ---------------- Cultural tidbit for those who are curious about where I live in France: I live in Alsace currently! (moved from Lyon, but my spouse is from here) In Alsace you might meet people who speak English, but it’s also entirely likely you won’t! Alsace is also a very tourist heavy area because it looks like a German fairy tale and has a lot of tiny villages with cool stuff to do! I highly recommend visiting here over Paris! We have so many storks! (clackclackclack)

Our logo is a pretzel!

That being said, Alsace has its own regional language!

It’s not uncommon to see bilingual signage or to pass someone on the street and hear them speaking Alsatian. You’ll usually hear it from older people, children, or those from rural areas. It’s really fun to listen to and absolutely wild to see written on museum signs! Kids here will start school learning French, regardless of what they speak at home, which has resulted in a downswing of Alsatian speakers in recent years. That’s why the new regional language law I mentioned waaaaaay above is so important. It’ll allow schools to teach most of the day in Alsatian instead of French with the goal being fully bilingual adults! :) As of right now, most kids here choose German or English (depending on the school) as their second language. Some kids pick Alsatian and honestly? Good for them! I’m glad!

#sheep.txt #long text post #very long #txt #traveling #france #alsace #europe #tourism #language #languages

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jessmalia · 3 years ago

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Pevensie siblings sexuality headcanons

I know I’ve shared my headcanons about the Pevensies sexualities many times before, but I thought I’d actually write them down and go through why I headcanon them as I do, plus how I imagine their relationship with their sexuality is like. I’d also love to hear what you have to say about this! So don’t be shy to reply, wether you agree with me or not. All interpretations are valid.

Also disclaimer, this isn’t very professionally written lol. It’s just the ramblings of a person who thinks way too much about fictional characters.

Peter Pevensie – Pansexual

A lot of people say that Peter is really straight, which... like I get the line of thinking behind that but, no. Y’all should already know how much I ship him with Caspian. Just because he’s a classic, perfect hero, knight in shining armour type doesn’t mean he’s straight. I don’t even think he’s “the pinnacle of masculinity” like some people say he is. Sure, he inhabits a lot of traditionally masculine traits like strong will, leadership, protectiveness and so on but I think his soft feminine side gets overlooked. Like, he’s pretty in touch with his emotions and he doesn’t show any shame, forced stoic-ness or any other signs of toxic masculinity (unlike Edmund lol).

Therefor, I also don’t think he would have any problem accepting his sexuality. Ignoring the standards of 1940s England for a second, I think he’s just always known he feels attraction regardless of gender and has never felt any shame over it.

Susan Pevensie – Grayromantic

This one’s definitely the most underdog one, cause I haven’t seen anyone with the same headcanon, so I really wanna explain my line of thinking.

For those of you who don’t know, grayromantic is when you’re on the aromantic spectrum but not fully aro. So a grayromantic person may experience romantic attraction but more rarely (how much depending on the person) or only very specific traits/people do it for them. Graysexual is the same but with sexual attraction.

Firstly, I wrote grayromantic as a title just because I had to choose one pride flag for the picture, but I also think she’s graysexual, and when she does experience attraction I think it can be to any gender.

Susan being grayromantic really is just the vibe I got from her in the Prince Caspian movie. The scene with that boy in the beginning doesn’t just feel like she’s not interested, but has a distinct “you’re barking up the wrong tree, bro” vibe to it, which I think is a reason so many people headcanon her as a lesbian, which totally works too, but I see it more in an asexual/aromantic way.

And then later with her romance with Caspian, I very much got the impression that she’s very surprised that she likes him so much. Like she did not expect to feel so attracted to him because she’s never been to anyone before. It’s strange and foreign too her but she welcomes it. It’s the same vibe I think a lot of people who interpret the Susan/Caspian romance as recognition the other is queer mistaken for attraction and/or queer platonic pick up on, because it really feels like you’re watching two lesbians fall in love for the first time lol. I think that is a perfectly valid interpretation, but I fully believe that Susan didn’t think she was capable of feeling romantic and sexual attraction, then when she liked Caspian she was confused at first because it was so new, but then when she realised what it was she welcomed it like “oh, I guess I do experience attraction sometimes”. And in a modern au I definitely see her liking the aspec label.

Edmund Pevensie – Bisexual

This one’s not that complicated. Edmund is my favourite, and I relate and project onto him a lot have talked about it before and I could go even more in depth about it forever but I don’t think anyone wants to hear that. Basically, I’m bisexual, therefor he is bisexual.

Plus, a lot of people also have this headcanon, so there’s definitely something more there than projection I think. I mean, we ARE very similar and since I’m bi, why wouldn’t he have the same vibes?

Edmund’s really the only one I think would have a problem accepting his sexuality at first again ignoring the standards of 1940s England. Like I hinted at in the Peter section, I think Edmund very much struggles with toxic masculinity when he’s young, specifically the LWW period. I think even back then he knew this about himself but wasn’t ready to accept it. I imagine that in Narnian culture they value softness and vulnerability way more, so they wouldn’t have the same dumb norms about masculinity, plus they definitely embrace same sex relationships. That coupled with how much he changed during the events of LWW I think made him totally ready to accept it. And of course his siblings would show nothing but love and support since they’re all queer too lol.

Lucy Pevensie – Lesbian

I don’t even know how to describe it — she’s a lesbian what more do you want? It’s so obvious! Just look at the outfit she’s wearing in this picture! That’s a lesbian if I’ve ever seen one. It’s literally just the vibes, man. Picturing her with a guy feels so weird to me.

It’s also literally canon: “But as for Lucy, she was always gay and golden-haired” I know he meant gay as in happy but come on.

As for her relationship with her sexuality, nothing describes it better than that she just loves being gay! She loves it! Wouldn’t trade it for the world! Modern AU Lucy definitely calls herself femme, and she makes gay jokes all the time. She’s definitely the sibling that talks about their sexuality most often.

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hetalia-reacts · 3 years ago

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PLATONIC HEADCANINS !! PLATONIC HEADCANONS !! HOW ABOUT- a doting touchy-feely PLATONC reader with the allies?? Friendship headcanons :3 (do Axis if u can but PLEASE don't do that if you are tired or busy PLEASE don't ♡♡:))

America

I feel Alfred is also a bit of a touchy-feely kind of friend too

Especially with best friends and whatnot

Is either always at your house or telling you to come to his

He just wants to watch movies or play video games with you

Heck he just wants to exist in the same room with his bestie

Will Alfred wake you up at 3am to do something with him?

Yes

Y’all will either be doing mundane things like going on a store run or literally committing a crime

There is N O in between

Since the both of you are both touchy-feely and likely clinging to each other you bet you’ve gotten the same question 1000x

“Are you two dating?”

You both either go for the ewww hell no or a straight faced but sarcastic yes we totally are

But it’s 50/50 if you both actually go for the same response

It’s a game at this point to see if you guys can read each other’s minds

You guys usually make an awkward situation for the person that asked because one will say yes and the other says eww and neither of you will back down and explain that you guys are just sarcastic and teasing jerks lmao

England

Arthur isn’t the most touchy person so having a friend that is can be tough sometimes

He does appreciate the hugs and physical comfort/support but he just gets kinda awkward

Well at first anyways

When you are certified besties he’s used to it and one can often find him gravitating towards you to just be close

Will never admit he likes it though sorry he’s a hard head

No one dares ask either of y’all that dreaded question though because they don’t want to deal with his sarcasm and the lecture that’s sure to follow

Arthur is a chill bestie though

Often invites you over to just be together

He doesn’t care if it’s just to talk, do something, or simply enjoy the presence of someone else

Help him cook maybe?

Even if you suck at cooking he enjoys attempting to cook with someone else

And that also means having fun in the kitchen and being complete dorks the whole time

And also having to order food or eat a sandwich because unless you can cook it’s going to be inedible

Will make you watch and read Sherlock, even if he has to be there or read it to you it’s happening

France

Francis is very touchy as a friend unless he knows someone dislikes it

So having a bestie that is like him is perfect

People probably think y’all are glued together at this point

No one would ever think y’all are dating either because Francis acts completely different with his bestie than a love interest

He’s kind of a mean ass ngl

He likes to jokingly bicker and fight with you

And definitely likes to cling and be dramatic with you to the point it’s annoying to others

Francis drags you with him everywhere

His house, the gym, the store, England’s house, etc

He cant just go alone anymore it would feel wrong like he’s forgetting something

If you’re bad at dressing or have no style he’s got your back

Literally shops for you but also constantly says things like you’ll never look as good as him

You are also one fo the few that will ever see Francis get serious or down in the dumps

It’s just something he doesn’t wear on his sleeve and reserves for those closest to him

Canada

Matthew is not used to having people cling to him

He’s not really used to having people notice him so having a someone that’s his bestie, that notices him the most, and always clings and talks to him is a strange and wild concept

Doesn’t mind the touchiness and honestly rather prefers it

He’s kinda touch starved :/

Matthew is likely always at your house with Kumajirou

Movie marathon and cuddles yo

Also as his closest friend you come to see his ‘secret’ side of being sarcastic and a complete savage

This boy does not hold back with you either

Maybe at first he did but when he realized y’all are in this friend stuff for life he won’t censor or sugar coat things if it’s not necessary

Makes you play and watch hockey with him

Will teach you everything if you know nothing

Matthew is the type of friend to invite you to his families holidays/vacations and come to yours

He knows and is cool with basically all of your family

I mean who could hate or dislike this polite boy?

Russia

Ivan is not used to friendship either as people usually tremble in fear before him

so having a friend that is touchy on top of having a close friend can be a bit much at times

But he’s happy!

He loves the hugs! Loves the contact! Loves having a friend!

Loves cuddles most of all he won’t lie, Ivan loves the feeling of comfort and support when you cuddle him

People do often assume you two are dating because most people assume someone would only put up with him if they were in love with him

Neither of you mind the rumors since y’all know the truth

Ivan is the sweetest friend

He shows up unannounced with food or groceries all the time

Always helping you out without being asked

Like oh your washing machine broke I fixed it/bought you a new one already or oh you suck at this let me explain it and teach it to you

Does this completely unprompted

He’s always over at yours or always inviting you over to his

Wants to do classic friend things?

Like things he sees in movies and shows that friends do a lot or things he’s overheard from others

Late night store runs, hanging out at parks, showing up unannounced to crash at your place, those kind of things

You’re the only person he confides in, you know all his secrets, his sadness, everything

Honestly, Ivan is the person who needs a touchy-feely friend the most out of everyone

China

Yao is happy about having a touchy friend but will always play like he hates it

Not in like a tsundere “I totally d-don’t need friends baka” kind of way but a really dramatic “omg I can’t believe you’re so obsessed with me haha loser” kind of way

He’s only joking of course and apologizes if you get hurt by his teasing or he crosses a line

Only a brave few would try and ask if y’all are more than friends

They have to listen to a lecture with an angry Yao explaining that people can be close and not want to date and how immature and inappropriate they’re being

Totally the type of friend that mothers you

Constantly says you look skinnier than last time and forces you to eat because he’s worried for you

Will not sugar coat anything for you

If you ask for his advice then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get it even if it makes you cry or get mad

Yao wants you over at his constantly

He’s lonely man ㅠㅠ

And he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of his house

Expect a lot of his gifts for your birthday/holiday to be cute plushies he found

Germany

Ludwig act differently depending on when y’all become besties

Like before Italy, he’s nervous, confused, and slightly annoyed by all the touching and notion of being besties

If it’s after Italy he’s used to all the touchiness and has figured out how to show his friendship to you in other ways

Like making you things! Or simply inviting you to hang out!

Ludwigs is always gonna be a bit awkward though

Always shy about hanging out and inviting you over

Many people assume you two to be dating because of his awkwardness but he is the first to start defending your friendship and it’s pure nature

He develops a sixth sense and now answers people’s questions about the two of you without even looking at them

He can just feel the nasty vibes

Asks you to do mundane things with him

Like shopping or even chores

Asks you to come bake with him a lot

It was embarrassing at first since not many people know his love of making sweets but he’s over that now

I know I say this a lot, but please work out with him _(:3 」∠)_

My guy just wants a work out buddy, a spotter, a n y t h i n g just please pick up the smallest dumbbell and pretend you want to work out

If you ask for advice expect him to be straight to the point about it but comfort you afterwards

Italy

Feliciano is a god tier bestie if your touchy-feely

Doesn’t matter if that touchy-feely emotionally and/or physically he’s down for both

Like please hold his hand, hug him, give him head pats, cheek kisses or any form affection really

No one even thinks anything of it, it’s just Feliciano being himself

If anyone did ask if you were dating he might get self-conscious of his actions, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like he was trying to be something more with you

He’s easy to calm down though

Feliciano invites you out all the time

Restaurants, wine tastings, farmers markets, gondola rides, just about anything he can think of that he thinks you would like to do

Always at your house

He eats all of your food too, but he makes you some in return so it’s okay

Gives really good advice

Like for his bestie he’ll get super serious and thoughtful about your issues, even spending days thinking of solutions

Tries not to sugar coat things for you but ends up doing just that

He doesn’t want to make his friend cry or even more anxious

Will comfort you though if you are upset about anything he’s said and apologizes profusely for it too

Japan

Kiku is overall one of the ones who needs a touchy bestie but is the most challenging with receiving or giving the touchiness back

He’s a man who enjoys personal space and alone time, so he’s honestly surprised anyone considers him a true best friend

He knows he can get a bit feisty and shut himself away when he gets uncomfortable and that makes it hard to truly befriend him

But he’s really happy you stick around and deal with his awkwardness and rejection of your affection

Tries his hardest to at least accept your friendly affection

No one would dare ask if you two are flirting or together because my god it’s taking so much of his effort to just sit less than 2 feet away from you at the start so they don’t want to ruin his progress by making it awkward

Kiku definitely asks for your opinion on anime and manga

Gets into heated debates with you over certain ones

Is shy but asks you to come over a lot

Likes to have tea and snacks with you while you guys talk

Y’all can talk for literally a whole day

You sleepover a lot, he insists and even got you your own futon with a cool custom cover

Gifts you a kotatsu at some point because he loves them and he thinks you should enjoy them all the time too

When he gets over a lot of shyness he loves when you do simple forms of affection with him

Like ruffling his hair or holding onto his arm or even just leaning against him

He enjoys those the most since they aren’t too physical and mentally taxing on him and it still let you physically express your friendship with him like you love to do

If you ask for advice either get prepared for a harsh wake up call or a stumbling mess of words

It’s 50/50 if Kiku gives you the stone cold truth or tries to spare your feelings

As your friend he thinks you deserve the truth but he doesn’t want his harsh advice to ruin your mood or make you hate him

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