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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)
Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.
TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3
There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.
Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.
Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.
There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.
Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.
There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.
“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)
But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.
But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.
But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…
There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…
Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.
— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?
Yes, he can hear you.
Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.
— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.
It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.
He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.
Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.
König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.
This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.
Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.
When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?
Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.
— Where do you want me to start, sir?
He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.
— The living room. If it’s not too much.
He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.
Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.
— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?
He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.
You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.
Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.
— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.
— Alright. Anything else?
He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.
He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.
This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.
And he only knew you for an hour tops.
König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.
He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?
He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.
He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.
His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.
König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.
Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.
He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.
Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.
So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.
It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.
— What is it, liebling?
Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.
You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.
— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.
He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.
He might not even let you go after.
— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…
He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.
— Alright. I will do it right away then.
You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.
He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.
— I will divide everything into categories, alright?
— Gut.
You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.
You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.
— Can I just put it back in boxes or…
You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.
It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.
He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.
Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.
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There’s never just one ant
So there's a great Thai restaurant in my neighborhood called Kiin. Yesterday, I searched for their website to order some takeout. Here's the Google result.
That top result (an ad)? It's fake. It goes to https://kiinthaila.com, which is NOT the website for Kiin.
The *third* result is real: https://kiinthaiburbank.com
Fake site:
Real site:
I got duped. I placed an order with the fake site. The fake site then placed the order - in my name! - with the real site, having marked up the prices by 15%. Kiin clearly knows they're doing this (presumably by the billing data on the credit card the fakesters use to place the order). They called me within minutes to tell me they'd cancelled the fakesters' order.
I could still come pick it up, but I'd have to pay them, and cancel the payment to the fakesters with Amex. Actually, as it turns out, I have to cancel TWO payments, because the fakesters DOUBLE-charged me.
Here's what that charge looks like on my Amex bill. See that phone number? (415) 639-9034 is the number for Wix, who provides the scammers' website.
How the actual FUCK did these obvious scammers get an Amex merchant account in the name of "KIINTHAILA" by after supplying the phone number for a website hosting company? What is Amex's KYC procedure? Do they even call the phone number?
And why the actual FUCK is Google Ads accepting these scam artists' ads for a business that they already have a knowledge box for?! Google KNOWS what the real KIIN restaurant is, and yet they are accepting payment to put a fake KIIN listing two slots ABOVE the real one.
To be fair to these scammer asshole ripoff creeps who are trying to steal from my local mom-and-pop, single location Thai eatery, they're just following in the shoes of Doordash and Uber Eats, who did the same thing to hundreds (thousands?) of restaurants during lockdown.
Doug Rushkoff says that the ethic of today's "entrepreneur" is to “Go Meta” - don't provide a product or a service, simply find a way to be a predatory squatter on a chokepoint between people who do useful things and people who use those things.
These parasites have turned themselves into landlords of someone else's home, collecting rent on a property they don't own and have no connection to.
There's NEVER just one ant. I guaran-fucking-tee you that these same creeps have 1,000 other fake Wix websites with 1,000 fake Amex merchant accounts for 1,000 REAL businesses, and that Google has sold them ads for every one of them. Amex and Google and Wix should be able to spot these creeps FROM ORBIT. Holy shit do we live in the worst of all possible timelines. We have these monopolist megacorps that spy on and control everything we do, wielding the most arbitrary and high-handed authority.
And yet they do NOT ONE FUCKING THING to prevent these petty scammers from using their infra as force-multipliers to let them steal from every hungry person patronizing every local restaurant.
I mean, what's the point of letting these robber-barons run the entire show if they're not even COMPETENT?
ETA: Dinner was delicious
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DARK SMS - DRAGON+
In today’s fast-paced digital landscape, maintaining privacy and security while communicating is more important than ever. Introducing DarkSMS, a cutting-edge virtual SMS platform designed to streamline your messaging experience without compromising your personal information. With our innovative virtual number service, users can receive SMS messages securely and anonymously, eliminating the risks associated with sharing private phone numbers. Whether you’re signing up for online services, verifying accounts, or simply looking to keep your communication confidential, DarkSMS has got you covered.
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Get SMS
Getting SMS messages through a virtual number service has become increasingly popular due to its convenience and versatility. Whether you need to receive texts for verification purposes or want to maintain privacy while communicating, virtual SMS provides a robust solution.
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How to Camp for Beginners
Hello! Tis I, your local boy scout/girl scout/avid gay camper, here to give some top notch Advice™️ about camping! The season is nearly upon us and the woods are a callin' so let's get out there and be safe kiddos!
Before you Go!
Make sure you find a campsite you like and that fits your comfort level! There's ZERO shame in picking a place with cabins, public restrooms, showers, heated pools, hot tubs- whatever your looking for!
Once you pick your campsite, make sure you know the area around it- especially if camping somewhere your unfamiliar with! Example questions to make sure you know: Where's the local hospital? Where's the closest grocery store? Gas station? Are there rangers at your campsite and how do you get in contact with them? Does your campsite provide anything at all as a courtesy?
Also make sure you know the wilderness around you and prep accordingly -- if your camping in a site with bears during their non hibernating months, make sure you bring bear safe trash recepitecals if your campsite doesny provide them
Bring people with you. People you know and trust. Seriously, the buddy system saves lives. Do NOT camp alone unless you are an EXPERT and know the area EXCRUCIATINGLY well. This is also not the place to go with your new romantic partner/friend/friend or partners family -- some people are very good at pretending to be safe and getting you alone in the woods is when they stop pretending.
Pack layers. Make sure you bring at least one set of sweatpants and hoodie, bonus points if their insulated. It gets very cold at night in most wilderness locations, even in the summer.!
Bring at least one set of waterproof clothes, including rain boots and a waterproof coat.
Pack however many sets of underwear and socks you think you need to bring, then pack more. Bring an overwhelming number of socks
Bring good sneakers that are broken in but not worn out
Flashlight with extra batteries and a portable battery cube, fully charged
Make sure you have sunscreen and bugspray, your skin will thank yoi
While packing food, make sure you bring things that will last the trip in an insulated bag or cooler. Don't buy your ice until your close to your camp. Some campsites will even offer bags of ice at the ranger station!
Bring PLENTY of water. My brother always packs ten nalgenes full of water, others bring a big pack of water bottles. Stay hydrated!
If you're bringing a furry friend, make sure they are fully up to date on their rabies and Lyme shots
Pack In!
Make sure you have a full tank of gas when you arrive at your campsite
I personally like to leave my phone in my car while I camp. Bring books/art supplies/journals or whatever you do for fun -- if that's your phone and you have service, great!
Having said that, if you ARE having a technology free camping trip, pick one person in your group with the best phone and declare them the emergency phone person
Best doesn't mean newest -- your friend who hates capitalism and has a Nokia that can survive nuclear fallout should be picked over your friend with the brand new super fragile iphone
Make sure the emergency phone remains fully charged and comes with you when you leave the campsite. Most emergency calls will work without cell service, but a dead phone can't make calls
Make sure you get the rangers number! Rangers are your friends, they want you to have a safe trip and are there for all your questions!
Also make sure to respect the rules of whatever campsite you're at -- if you're on boy scout property for example, you absolutely CANNOT bring alcohol. If you're having a fun adult camping trip, make sure you know the weed laws in that state before your puff and pass.
While setting up your campsite, try to find somewhere dry, that's not located near the bottom of a hill or next to a river.
Try to find places that don't have a ton of loose rocks or dirt, but where the ground is soft enough to nail in stakes for tents/canopies
Most campsites will have an assigned area with a fire pit, but if yours doesn't, make sure you collect enough rocks to build a fire circle before roasting any s'mores!
If your campsite doesn't let you bring cars past a certain point, make sure you know the fastest and safest route to the parking lot
I cannot stress how important it is to make sure you know the emergency numbers -- if theres a medical emergency, you may not be able to get someone to the car. Rangers will have ATVs and paramedics will have the skills to get people out of situations
Make sure your first aid kit is well packed with plenty of bandaids antiseptic and gauze- triangle bandages are also a versitle tool that can help with sprains splints and holding bandages in place. Preferably bring someone who knows at least basic first aid or CPR -- if you can't find a friend with that knowledge, make sure to be extra nice to the rangers
Bring an extra large bottle of your preferred over the counter painkillers -- dehydration and too much time in the sun can cause headaches! Also nifty for twisted ankles or sore backs from sleeping on the ground.
If you forgot your tent stakes, that's okay, put a spare cooler/bag/something heavy in the center of your tent to weigh it down in case of high winds.
If you forgot your rain canopy, a ripped trashbag will work in a pinch, but be warned: it's gonna get hot as HELL in that tent
During your Trip
Sunscreen and bugspray every day- even cloudy days have high UV rays, melanoma kills
Whether cooking on portable grill or campfire make sure your meat is fully cooked.
Chopping your produce and meat and cooking them in two separate packets of tin foil makes delicious meals, plus it's easy to check how done it is
Speaking of fires, make sure you have fireproof gloves and tongs if cooking over a campfire
Zip tents if rain is predicted but believe me, tents are like fucking hot boxes, so try to get as much air movement as you can.
If your campsite doesn't have latrines/portapotties/bathrooms (and you didn't bring one) be a good friend and make sure your camp's designated potty site is down wind of your camp. Also, human droppings can attract animals, so make sure it's a good distance away
(seriously though consider bringing a porta potty they make ones for campers)
CHECK FOR TICKS!!!! CHECK FOR TICKS EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU CAN!!!
Ticks like warm, dark places, so make sure you check behind your knees, under your arms, the back of your neck, in your socks and your privates! Ladies- that includes under the boobies. Wearing long pants, high socks, or long sleeves can be a simple and efficient tick deterrent, especially in marshy areas or tall grass. Don't forget to check your pets if they came with you!
If you find a tick, get some tweezers, grasp as close to the skin as you can, and slowly but firmly pull down on the tick- remember, you want the head out. You can also use a credit card or any other dull edge to help push downward.
Wet feet cause blisters, so always wear socks and change them often. If you get a blister, DONT POP IT, cover it with a bandaid or surround it with moleskin
Hydrate hydrate hydrate hydrate, drunk water every fifteen minutes even if your not thirsty
Remember to respect the nature around you- don't go pulling leaves off trees or disturbing animal dens, stay away from pretty much any animal- yes, even deer, bucks can and will gore you If frightened enough, deer can tramble you and even the cutest little Birdy can carry rabies and other diseases.
Poison Ivy has three leaves, poison oak looks like a strangling vine, and poison sumac has berries. Make sure you know what grows in your camping area.
If you brought a pet, don't let them eat any plants!
Make sure to use the buddy system especially if someone starts feeling ill- a lot of really dangerous illnesses start out looking a lot like colds and flu
Make sure to have a bucket of water next to your campfire, and every night make sure to completely douse your fire before turning it. Splash water on instead of dumping and make sure every ember is out- remember, only you can prevent wildfires
If you brought a gas powered generator for your campsite, make sure it's as far away as possible from the fire pit. Also, they're quite loud, so maybe don't put it near your tent. Put it on the outskirts of the campsite and don't leave it running when you're not there
Pack out!
LEAVE NO TRACE!!! make sure you clean up ALL your litter, all of it, every single one. Check and triple check your entire camp site.
Make sure everyones tent poles and stakes end up with the correct tent- you'd be surprised how brand specific stuff like that is.
Especially don't leave any food items -- there's likely going to be another person filling that campsite soon, they don't need moldy food attracting critters!
If there's a sign out sheet, don't forget to sign out at the ranger station! If they had to evacuate the campsite for whatever reason, they'll need to know you're gone!
Do a final tick/other bug check- you don't need to be bringing bugs home with you! Also check that there are no critters are in your supplies -- this sounds obvious, but you'd be surprised where snakes and mice can end up.
Give your pets an extra good bath when you get home. You don't know what could've gotten stuck in their fur!
Tick/spider bites tend to look like bullseyes. If you develop bullseye shaped rashes after you get home, seek medical attention.
Most of all, have fun and be safe!!!
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Following up from this idea here!
⋆˙⟡♡
The last twelve months had been surprisingly productive for Simon. He'd been reticent at first, pushed back against the barrage of support provided for him by both the military and those who'd remained close to him outside of mere workplace obligation. That said, it hadn't taken him long to realise how big of a change a civilian lifestyle would be after twelve years of active service. Therapy had been an uphill battle, but Tina, the nice lady he saw twice weekly, who specialised in supporting veterans and those suffering with complex PTSD, was as patient as a saint, and had eventually helped him to open up.
He still, however, struggled to find a new sense of purpose. Life had become quiet, sluggish and static. When Tina had suggested he get a pet, he'd tentatively agreed.
"Hi there! How can I help you today?" Is the sweet voice that shakes him from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality only to realise he now stands at the front of the queue, before the desk of his local adoption centre.
"I'm looking to adopt..." He trails off, somewhat awkward and still a little unsure of whether there's some sort of protocol with these things. "A dog. I'm looking to adopt a dog."
After having quietly filled in the required forms, nervous under the warm gaze of the front desk attendant, he allows himself to be shown to the kennels in which the canine residents of the centre play, sleep and eat. With a nervous, almost shy gaze, Simon takes in the rowdy pack of dogs before him, before crouching to meet the crowd of wet noses coming to check him out.
"Have you got any preferences?" You pipe up from behind him, absently scratching behind the ears of a three legged Bernese Mountain dog, Lucky, who stands loyally at your heels.
"Just - um," Simon murmurs, looking between you, the dog at your feet, and a funny looking beagle, intent on sniffing at the contents of his pockets. "Just some company really. Therapist told me I needed a reason to get out, so..."
Taking his silence as an invitation to speak up, a pensive hum fills the room as you flick though the chart listing the animals currently up for adoption, and what their ideal situation would be. "You said you're quite physically active?" You probe, shooting him a glance.
"Yeah. I run and stuff. Like to try and stay fit."
Another hum of confirmation breaks the quiet as you rule out some of the less mobile options, and, having seen the way he grimaced at a slightly dishevelled Chihuahua, you take the incentive to rule out the smaller lap dogs too. You can't help but to note the way he looks between you and your own little canine friend, a look you've seen countless times on the faces of clients, the look that says that they're interested.
"I'd introduce the two of you, but she's already spoken for I'm afraid." You hum, a wry smile pulling at your lips when you note the expression on his face, surprised at your astute observation. "She's not exactly the most mobile, either."
"Oh, yeah. Right." He stammers back awkwardly, shooting you a bashful smile.
"I do, however, have someone that might take your fancy?"
Taking the laminated sheet from your offered hand, Simon is met with a grainy image of an earnest looking dog, big, marble eyes seemingly staring at him from off of the page.
"He only came in a couple days back. Golden shepherd mix from what we can tell. About four and really good natured. He's at the vet right now, but we could book you in to meet him when he's back?"
"I'd - yeah - That'd be great. Thanks." He nods, a pale blush colouring his cheeks.
Better still, when he leaves the adoption centre with a beginners pet care brochure, flipping through the pages on the walk back home, he's met with a hastily scrawled phone number, and a little smiley face below it.
⋆˙⟡♡
#cod mw2#tf 141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#Simon ghost Riley x f!reader#Simon ghost Riley x yn#Simon Riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#Simon Riley x yn#Simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x y/n#ghost mw2#simon riley x you#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty#cod#ghost
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Internet access is hanging on by a thread after most of Gaza’s telecommunication infrastructure was damaged or wiped out in Israeli airstrikes. The bombing campaign earlier this week destroyed two of the three main lines for mobile communication, leaving just one line working, but with disrupted service. Overall, connectivity in the Gaza Strip has fallen from about 95% in early October to around 60% as of Friday morning, according to data from NetBlocks, an internet outage monitoring firm based in London. The lone provider standing between Palestinians and a total blackout is Paltel, the Palestine Telecommunications Company. While all nine of Gaza’s local internet service providers have effectively stopped working, Paltel is the largest Palestinian provider, with connections in the Gaza Strip and throughout the region. While currently enough of its cable network that supports fixed broadband and phone services remains intact, the company said it anticipates a “total blackout” if any more of its lines to Egypt or Israel are damaged.
Harder for people to document Israeli war crimes if there's no internet.
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every day i see some random shit online and immediately go 'you could make a fanfic out of this', i saw a tiktok of a woman talking about how much money she made working at hooters and instantly i'm like:
au where dream works at his family's megacorp, he fucking hates his life and everyone around him especially when all the bro-ey upper management colleagues arrange an obligatory "team bonding" event (excuse to get drunk) at the local hooters-type restaurant. dream didn't want to go but he had no choice, and the whole time they're there he's like 'this is gross, objectifying and uncomfortable' and he intends to spend the whole experience just scowling down at the table and drowning himself in wine.
that is until their skimpily-dressed waiter arrives like 'hi i'm hob what can i get for ya? :D' and dream just fucking bluescreens. he's blushing. he's so flustered. he told himself he wasn't going to objectify the wait staff (even if that's kind of the whole schtick of the place) but he can't stop staring at hob's tits.
hob of course clocks it immediately (man knows exactly how to get tips) and pays a disproportionate amount of attention to him, flirts with him, winks at him after he takes his order. dream wants to disappear, he's so incredibly embarrassed, but he equally wants to beg for more of hob's attention. this is the worst day of his life. he orders something a lot stronger than wine.
his colleagues are losing their shit cuz they've never seen dream display even a tiny bit of emotion in the whole time they've had to work with him so they're all teasing him and talking about whether they should bribe hob to flirt with him more and so on. contrary to dream's general misanthropy they aren't actually complete assholes but they are having fun at his expense. dream wishes he were dead.
for hob at first it was just a way to get tips but later he finds himself going soft on this pretty, shy, flustered guy who's clearly having one of the weirdest days of his life, especially because customers often behave inappropriately with him but dream never does, he's actually very polite to hob, he's just blushing furiously the whole time. he's very cute, hob is getting kind of obsessed with how easy it is to make him blush, and he's pretty sure that if he let dream so much as touch his chest dream might actually combust and it would be quite lovely to watch.
at the end of the night dream leaves him an absolutely insane tip of like 300% of the total bill (which was already substantial) and hob chases him down at the door to make sure it wasn't a mistake (normally he's not that honorable about it but he can't risk there being a huge amount of trouble) and dream's like 'no mistake *blushing so badly* your service was impeccable, hob' and hob's like fuck it i'm gonna shoot my shot, 'i'm not sure it was quite at that level, anything else i can provide for you??'
3 days later destiny is reconciling company expenses and yells into dream's office WHY IS THERE A 10,000 POUND CHARGE FOR HOOTERS ON THE CORPORATE CREDIT CARD but dream still has a hickey on his neck and hob's number in his phone so he finds himself utterly remorseless.
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perhaps r works as a vet or with a wildlife protection agency etc and brings a horse to farrier!remus and he just falls for her bc he sees how much she cares about the horse and her gentle nature and it soothes him 😋
this has been stuck in my mind since my original post re: farrier!Remus so I finally took a stab at it! thanks for the prompt, I hope I did it justice! <3
A Horseshoe for Luck
Farrier!Remus Lupin x Veterinarian!reader who consults with Remus on a case [1.3k words]
CW: fem!reader, situation inspired by a horse who was lost for a few years and when found had severe overgrowth of his hooves (happy ending), don't look too closely at the plot if you're a Horse Girl (gn) thank you xx
Remus heaved in a sigh as he pulled down the long gravel driveway to his latest appointment.
He’d known there was a new vet in town, which came with a certain level of relief and a certain level of concern.
The rural coasts of Wales were no doubt hurting for Veterinarians (and service providers in general), but the communities were notoriously closed-knit and standoffish to ‘outsiders’ and were completely incapable of keeping newcomers around for any amount of time.
Every new vet that this village saw came from the city, and every new vet left after a measly year-or-two long stint max.
He couldn’t necessarily blame them; sometimes it took a local to manage the locals, but this left him with a certain level of distrust.
Too many times has Remus been called upon by the new city-sent vets just to be spoken down to or dismissed entirely because they believed that they knew better.
So, though he knew this vet would probably be much the same - some young, newly minted vet fresh out of school who had accepted the first available job they could find - he also knew that his area was in desperate need of a vet, and that he also had a job to do.
So he dutifully parked his truck and opened the cab to retrieve his tools when a frazzled looking tech approached him.
“You must be Mr. Lupin! I’m Hannah, I was the one who spoke to you on the phone.” She offered quickly.
“Just Remus s’fine. Was this a wild horse?” He asked, not interested in smalltalk as he followed her towards a large barn.
“No, not originally at least. The owners have been looking for him for two years and finally found him with a wild herd - managed to bring him back in.”
“Is he sound?”
“His hooves are in horrid condition - the doctor has done a preliminary check on the rest of him but would really like to get him some relief for his feet before she does anything more to him.”
“And who are they?” He asked as he passed a couple standing outside of the barn doors.
“The owners.” The tech - Hannah - offered quickly.
“Have they not seen their horse?” He asked, noticing that the tech hesitated before turning down the run where he could hear some activity.
“They have, but they were very anxious and excited to be reunited with him. The doctor felt that for an animal who has spent the last two years in a wild herd, it might be best to keep the area calm. I - erm, well, are you calm, Mr. Lup- erm, Remus?”
Remus let out a snort and nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m pretty calm.”
Hannah smiled in relief as she turned the corner which exposed a large brown and white paint horse secured in cross ties. Standing at his head where there should be a stuffy city vet in a crisp white lab coat barking orders at various techs and stablehands was simply a woman (a very beautiful woman, Remus had to admit, though didn’t feel it was entirely professional to recognise), wearing dirty activewear with her hair messily pulled back and a stethoscope thrown over her shoulders as she murmured quietly to the horse.
Remus almost felt bad for the horse when Hannah interrupted your conversation with it to introduce you to Remus.
You accepted Remus’ handshake quickly without the usual stuffy-city vet hesitation to check for clean fingernails (he worked with the likes of sodding barn animals for christ sake, give him a break) and a warm smile that actually met your eyes as you looked into Remus’ (and into his soul, he was sure).
“Thank you so much for coming, Remus. I’ve heard great things about you since I’ve arrived, I’m only sorry I haven’t had a chance to make your acquaintance until now.”
“I’ve been eager to meet you as well.” Liar, Remus scolded himself immediately; though, had he known the new vet had been the likes of you? Well, maybe he would have been more eager. “So, the poor lad’s got some major overgrowth?” He asked as he looked at the horses hooves instead of admiring your figure like he’d much prefer to be doing.
“I can’t tell if there’s lameness because of an injury or if it’s just his instability on these hooves of his so I figured a trim was our next best step, but what do you think? Is there something I’m overlooking?”
Remus managed to mask his surprise at your collaboration with a simple farrier (versus what would have usually been orders given in a bored tone before the vet fucked off further into the barn only to come out in the end to inspect his work) by doing a walkaround as he felt the horses legs.
The horse seemed somewhat tense at the attention he was receiving, but quickly calmed when you began massaging around his neck and murmuring to him in a low, dulcet tone.
Fuckin’ hell, Remus was jealous of a horse.
“No, I think you’re quite right. Let’s get him onto more balanced footing and then you can work your magic.” He offered after his inspection, earning him a beaming smile from you in the process.
“Are we shoeing him?”
You tilted your head as you looked over at the horse as if waiting for him to respond. “What do you think?” You asked Remus instead. “A horseshoe for luck?”
And though Remus knew that you knew the shoes would really just provide more strength and protection for the equines hooves, he was not one to deny himself a chance at luck, so he quickly agreed.
“Do you mind an audience, or would you prefer if I left?” You asked then as you backed away from the horse to allow Remus to set up.
He normally preferred solitude; he was in this business because he, admittedly, found the company of animals far more enjoyable than that of humans, but he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite ready to have you leave his company yet.
So you sat - on the dusty, straw strewn flooring - as you watched Remus work; polite conversation inching further and further away from business as the job progressed. What started out as him asking how long you’d been out of school, what made you want to study veterinary medicine, ended up with what brought you here of all places.
“Peace…solitude. I wanted a quieter pace of life and to live somewhere where I could know the people around me instead of just knowing that there were people around me; does that make sense?” You asked then, allowing your head to loll to the side as you considered him.
“I think so; don’t usually find people running here though…most are running away.”
“Looking for a quicker pace of life?”
“Something like that.” He agreed as he finished up one hoof and moved onto another.
“But not you?”
“Not me.” He agreed.
“Why’s that?”
Remus paused at that, chancing a look at you and finding that to be a horrid mistake because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to return to his work when you were smiling at him that sweetly.
“I wanted peace…solitude. A quiet pace of life where I could know the people around me, I suppose.”
Your smile grew subtly at his rephrasing of your previous words. “Fair enough.”
The trim seemed to do the trick; the horse no longer showing any lameness in his legs as Remus watched you lunge him around the dusty arena alongside the very happy owners.
“What do you think, Remus? Did he look good?” You called to him as you handed the lead to the owners.
“Looked perfect.” He responded simply.
The horse, you, the rural coast of Wales now that you were here.
He found himself suddenly very happy to have a new vet in town, and hoped to all hell that you outlasted the many vets that came before you.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#farrier#farrier au#farrier!Remus#farrier!Remus Lupin#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin fic#remus lupin ficlet#barn fic#veterinarian!reader#fem!reader#ellecdc fics
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now that we got confirmation that ofmd is free to be picked up, i think it's time we also direct our emailing/calling/social media efforts towards other streamers that would pick the show up instead of hbo since it seems they're not going to move forward with renewal (but don't stop bugging them. do this as well if you can!)
i'm heavily leaning towards apple tv for these two reasons:
they care about good shows with good stories and are willing to provide budget for them. their audience numbers are not always the most impressive or record breaking yet they still allow shows to tell their stories-- Foundation, Severance, For All Mankind to name a few
it's a service that is accessible both in the US and internationally. one of the biggest issues with hbo max was that a lot of international fans couldn't watch s2 of ofmd and had to wait for the show to stream on a local service and for some places ofmd never gets picked up
so here's what you can do to contact apple tv
i had to talk to three separate support reps before i got transferred over to apple tv's technical service and this is what he told me-- use the feedback link for best results as they definitely will review them and take them into consideration: https://www.apple.com/feedback/apple-tv-app/
right now it seems this is the best way for them to document what we want, i did ask for a phone number but the rep said that they'll offer numbers within the feedback form once the feedback has been submitted, so you have the option to call them to elaborate if you want!
here's a script you can use if you don't know what to say:
Hi! I'm planning on getting Apple TV because from the lineup of the shows on the service. I’ve noticed Apple TV values good, original storytelling and allow shows to finish their story without cancelling them, even ones that might be underperforming in terms of viewership. One of the biggest incentives that would make me subscribe immediately is if Apple TV picks up the show Our Flag Means Death, a critically acclaimed queer romantic comedy with a 94% rating on Rotten Tomatoes for their second season and incredible audience numbers. The show was unfortunately recently cancelled by HBO. I know Ted Lasso, a flagship show for Apple, recently ended, and I think the service would hugely benefit from another feel good, found family sort of comedy. Plus I would gladly subscribe to as would thousands of the Our Flag Means Death fanbase if we got the show on your service!
now let's get our show back!!! please reblog this post so more people can know about it 🥰
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How I would do a sugar daddy/sugar baby AU. (I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me *side eyes the omegaverse*)
I've seen this well done in this fandom, I'm not saying I haven't, but of the ones I've seen they tend to be omegaverse or mafia/shady sugar daddy.
And I want thirty year old rockstar!Eddie with twink Steve. I said what I said. I think we forget that for the most part Steve isn't beefy. When he's "bulked" up, it's his clothing (Eddie's vest) or its his thighs that are "thicc". But Steve (Joe Kerry in particular out of the role) is thin.
So we have rockstar!Eddie with Corroded Coffin touring the country and doing a couple of dive bars because that's where they got their start and hitting up The Hideout, because again that's where they got their start.
Steve, who recently got kicked out of his parents house because he came out with liking men (gay, pan, bi don't care) and lost his job because again with the liking men thing (small town homophobia for the loss!)
So with his last twenty dollars, he decides to hit up on the local bar and drink away his troubles and maybe even get laid for a warm place to sleep tonight.
He gets dressed in his sluttiest clothes. Crop top, cut off booty shorts, sparkly blue sneaks.
Only he shows up on the night that Corroded Coffin is playing. After paying what he thought was a stiff cover charge (was actually a ticket to see the show) he gets in. He has less money than he hoped but he can only hope that someone is willing to buy him drinks.
He settles in next to the bar and realizes his mistake. The rest of the patrons are dressed in metal gear. Leather, black denim, and lots of chains. Steve doesn't just stick out, he sticks out like a prep in a metal concert.
But he can't afford to go anywhere else, and hopes he doesn't get too harassed tonight. So he keeps he head down and hopes of the best.
Only what he doesn't know is that he has caught the eye of the frontman and lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie Munson. The fact that Steve stands out isn't a detriment, it's a perk.
He wants to find out everything about this boy who stumbled into his enclosure.
The rest of the band is rolling their eyes.
Eddie sends out one of the PAs to make sure that all of Steve's drinks go on Eddie's tab and spends the whole concert watching this guy.
After the concert Eddie sidles up to him and they get to talking. Immediately he picks up that Steve is not old enough to be there. So now he's worried he's under age.
They head out for a smoke and Steve admits that he's not twenty-five like the fake ID says, but nineteen. He shows Eddie his real ID as proof and Eddie is relieved.
They start making out and Eddie takes him to his hotel room to have sex.
In the morning, Eddie asks if he can take him home and Steve starts sobbing. He tells him about his shitty day with shitty parents and shitty boss.
And Eddie's bleeding heart immediately goes out to him and tells him to stay at the hotel for as long as he needs, order room service. Just no booze.
Steve pouts at that but agrees. That as long he stays at the hotel he won't buy booze on Eddie's dime.
Eddie gives Steve his phone number if he needs anything. He transfers the hotel room over to Steve's name, gives him a sultry kiss goodbye and leaves to finish his tour.
Steve doesn't have anywhere else to go and is not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he stays at the hotel. He gets to spend time in the luxurious bathroom with it's fancy shampoos and conditioners and hot tub like bath.
He finds that Eddie keeps sending him clothes and jewelry and suddenly the rich life style that he had with his parents pales in comparison to the extravagant lifestyle Eddie is providing for him.
Through all this Steve is still looking for a job as he doesn't want to overstay his welcome. But news hadn't gotten around town that he was gay and even people he thought he could trust are telling him that they can't hire him.
Eventually he gives up. He talks to Eddie all the time and whenever he feels discouraged Eddie will send him something pretty to cheer him up.
Finally Steve catches the fairy that had been leaving things in his hotel room when he's in the shower or out on the town.
Her name is Robin Buckley and she's a summer intern. Her uncle knew a guy who knew a guy that got her the job. She actually loves it, but she has one more year of high school and her parents won't let her drop out to be a PA for a rockstar.
They're concerned that he'll take advantage of her. Robin thinks it's funny because she's gay. Steve thinks it's funny because Eddie's gay and not into under eighteen year olds.
He tells her his story and over the summer they become best friends. Robin had heard that the Harrington boy had run off so imagine her surprise when Eddie's management had her deliver things to his hotel room. Staying in a hotel room in Hawkins is hardly running away.
Eddie comes back and just continues to throw money and gifts at Steve but doesn't ask for sex again. It's not until Steve tells him that he didn't fuck Eddie for his money or even for a warm bed at that point when he went back to the hotel with him, it was because Eddie cared. And god was that sexy as hell.
When Robin graduates Eddie hires her to be Steve's PA and the pair of them get to travel the world with the band as besties.
ETA: Story here.
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Maui Fires & How to Support Relief Efforts
(Posted on 8/10/23) Hi, I'm Jae and my family is from Lāhainā. I watched my hometown burn down this week. The fires caused immeasurable loss in my community so I'd like to spread awareness of the situation as well as provide links to support local organizations directly assisting survivors. I'm pretty sure most of my following is Not local so I'm writing with intent to inform people outside the situation, but if you're reading this and happen to have family in the affected area that isn't accounted for, message me and I can send you the links to the missing persons tracking docs + more localized info!! If you'd like to skip down to how to help and follow community organizations, scroll to the bottom of the post after the image.
Earlier this week, Hurricane Dora passed south of the Hawaiian Islands, bringing strong wind gusts that caused property damage across the islands. On Tuesday August 8, high winds caused sparks to fly in the middle of Lāhainā town, knocking out power lines and immediately igniting drought-ridden grasses. The fire spread quickly and destroyed the entire center of town, the harbor, and multiple neighborhoods including Hawaiian Homes (housing specifically for Native Hawaiians), parts of Lahainaluna, basically all of Front Street, and low-income housing units. There is only one public road in and out of town, and after a very hectic evacuation period that road has been mostly closed off except to emergency responders, thus it is extremely difficult for anyone to leave town to get help. The nearest hospital is 20 miles away in Wailuku, and most grocery stores in town have burnt down.
As of Thursday, August 10, over 1,000 acres have been burned and 271 structures (including homes, schools, and other community gathering places) have been destroyed. Cell service is still extremely spotty, many of the surrounding neighborhoods deemed safe for evacuees are still without utilities. There are currently confirmed 53 deaths but that number is expected to increase as search-and-rescue efforts continue. Countless families have been displaced and many have lost the homes they lived in for generations. Places of deep historical significance have been reduced to ash, including the gravesites of Hawaiian royalty, the old Lāhainā courthouse where items of cultural significance were stored, and Na ‘Aikane o Maui Cultural Center. To add further context: Lāhainā has a population of about 13,000 residents. EVERYONE I know has been impacted in some way--at best forced to evacuate, at worst their house was burnt to the foundation, they cannot find a loved one, etc. I'm still trying to track down family members and it's been over two days. My neighbors down the street had homes last week and now many don't have ANYTHING. The hotels are taking in residents (tourists are also being STRONGLY urged to leave so that locals can recover). Without open access to the rest of the island, Lāhainā residents are now dependent on whatever people had in their homes already as well as disaster relief efforts coming in, but it's been difficult to organize and mobilize due to the location + conditions. People who have made it out are in shelters where no blankets or medicine were provided. Friends and acquaintances from neighbor islands are preparing aid to send over. Community response has been incredible, but the toll on the town has been immeasurable. My parents were desperately walking through town yesterday, my mom sounded absolutely hollow talking about it on the phone with me. It's horrifying. Below is a satellite map with data from the NASA Fire Information for Resource Management System showing the impacted areas from the past week; all of the red blotches were on fire at some point in the last three days.
Here are ways you can help:
If you have the means to donate:
Here are three donation sites verified by Maui Rapid Response, which also lists FAQs for people who are wondering about next steps.
Hawaiʻi Community Foundation - Maui Strong Fund accepts international credit cards. Maui United Way
Maui Mutual Aid Non-monetary ways to support:
If you know anyone who is planning to travel to ANY Hawaiian island, not just Maui, tell them to cancel their trip. Resources are extremely limited as is. Advocate for climate change mitigation efforts locally, wherever that is for you. The fire was exacerbated by drought conditions that have worsened due to climate change.
Lastly, remember that these are people's HOMES that burned, and Native Hawaiian cultural artifacts that have been lost. Stop thinking of Hawaiʻi (or any "tourist destination" location, really) as an "escape" or a "paradise." If that's the only way you recognized my home... I'm glad I got your attention somehow, but I would ask that you challenge that perspective and prioritize local and native voices. For transparency, I don't currently live in Lāhainā, I've been following efforts from Honolulu. My parents and brother have been updating me and I've been following friends and family who are doing immediate response work. I'm doing my best to find reliable and current sources, but if I need to update something, please let me know. If you're going to try to convince me that tourism is necessary for our recovery, news flash ***IT'S NOT***!
Thanks for reading.
#please feel free to reblog! i don't know how tagging works here anymore!#maui fires#officially reported death count increased WHILE I WAS WRITING THE POST btw. this is bonkers.#if you want to start tourism discourse in my inbox you have to donate the cost of a plane ticket and send a screenshot to me#i have sources at the ready btw. i'd say don't try me but i mean my hometown could use a couple hundred bucks!!
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This post contains resources for leaving a domestic violence situation (in the United States). If you have additional domestic violence resources from other countries/places in the world, please leave them in comments.
This is a content warning: beneath the cut is a conversation about Simple Math, domestic violence, and my boundaries.
Hi.
I want to preface this conversation by telling you how much I love you all. I'm so grateful to the little community that we've built here, and I really feel like we've created a space where we can talk to one another comfortably. I adore interacting with you all and I've been pleasantly surprised at Simple Math's reception. I knew writing a fic with a character who had survived domestic violence would open a certain kind of conversation, and I'm okay with that, to an extent.
That being said:
For my own peace, I ask that you refrain from sending me GRAPHIC messages about your experience with domestic violence. If you are a victim/survivor/witness/etc, and you want to open a conversation with me reference your experiences and/or trauma, I am absolutely okay with that as long as it's done in an appropriate way. A lot of us can relate to Bun, and I don't have an issue sharing enthusiasm for the story in relation to your life. I am not okay with DMs or anonymous messages detailing graphic descriptions of abuse. You don't know me, my personal life, or the things I've experienced, and sending a detailed play by play of your past or current experiences (without even a warning) is not okay. I understand that you need someone to talk to, or maybe even someone to ask for advice, but I cannot read the graphic nature of these messages, and I encourage you to turn towards someone who knows you personally so you can receive help. Leaving the details of a current or ongoing domestic violence situation in my inbox, with no way for me to report what is happening or ability to get you any kind of help or resources, cannot happen. Domestic violence is a crime. In the case of physical abuse, it is a violent crime. Please do not detail violent crime to me in my inbox.
I consider myself to be a kind person. I try to help my community in real life and here as much as I can. I strive to make this a space where you feel comfortable and welcomed. I enjoy the way we interact and talk about these stories. It pains me to have to write something out like this, but I really don't know what else to do. It's very upsetting to read a message from someone who possibly is being harmed, and then feeling like I'm screaming into a fucking void because it's an anonymous message and I cannot help.
I've included some resources below if you're in the US and need somewhere to start in regard to getting out of a domestic violence situation.
US resources: Phone: 800-799-7233 Text: Text START to 88788
Create a safety plan. It’s important to plan how to stay safe while still living with an abusive partner and how you can safely leave the home or relationship. Record evidence of any abuse you experienced. This could include pictures of injuries you received or threatening messages. If possible, keep a journal of violent incidents, noting dates, events, and any threats made. Store your journal in a safe place. Establish where you can go to get help. If you’re comfortable doing so, tell someone trusted about what’s happening. They can help you with safety planning or finding resources that support survivors. Plan with your children and identify a safe place where they can go during moments of crisis, like a room with a lock or a friend’s house. Reassure them that their job is to stay safe, not to protect you. When preparing to go to a shelter, if you can, call ahead to see what the shelter’s policies are. They can give you information on how they can help and how to secure a space when it’s time to leave. Our advocates can also provide you with local resources. Try to set money aside or ask trusted friends or family members to hold money for you somewhere an abusive partner can’t reach it. Financial abuse is very common and creates many issues for someone preparing to leave. If relevant and feasible, pursue job skills or educational qualifications that expand your opportunities for independence. Talk with an advocate at The Hotline. Our advocates are highly trained in all aspects of domestic violence. They can help you create a safety plan, give information on preparing to leave, and can connect you to local domestic violence resources for further support. Create a safety plan. It’s important to plan how to stay safe while still living with an abusive partner and how you can safely leave the home or relationship. Record evidence of any abuse you experienced. This could include pictures of injuries you received or threatening messages. If possible, keep a journal of violent incidents, noting dates, events, and any threats made. Store your journal in a safe place. Establish where you can go to get help. If you’re comfortable doing so, tell someone trusted about what’s happening. They can help you with safety planning or finding resources that support survivors. Plan with your children and identify a safe place where they can go during moments of crisis, like a room with a lock or a friend’s house. Reassure them that their job is to stay safe, not to protect you. When preparing to go to a shelter, if you can, call ahead to see what the shelter’s policies are. They can give you information on how they can help and how to secure a space when it’s time to leave. Our advocates can also provide you with local resources. Try to set money aside or ask trusted friends or family members to hold money for you somewhere an abusive partner can’t reach it. Financial abuse is very common and creates many issues for someone preparing to leave. If relevant and feasible, pursue job skills or educational qualifications that expand your opportunities for independence. Talk with an advocate at The Hotline. Our advocates are highly trained in all aspects of domestic violence. They can help you create a safety plan, give information on preparing to leave, and can connect you to local domestic violence resources for further support.
You are loved, even if it doesn't feel like it. You have the ability to do things you never could have dreamed of, and that includes getting out.
#tw domestic violence#simple math#tw stalking#tw abuse#I will stop writing Simple Math if my boundaries are not respected
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“What do you mean you didn’t bring the fob?” The bubble of Wei Ying’s bright pink bubblegum pops as he speaks.
“I mean I didn’t bring the fob,” Nie Huaisang shrugs.
“So then how did we get back in?” It’s three o’clock in the morning and they’re standing in the foyer of Jiang Cheng’s fancy apartment building, in front of an elevator that cannot be operated without a security fob. Their arms are laden with snacks and Wei Ying is chewing five different flavours of bubblegum together. It’s an interesting combination.
“The door was open.”
Wei Ying turns back to look at the main entrance. It was open when they stepped out of the building to go hunt for the unhealthiest, ungodliest snacks the local 24-hour convenience store could provide, and had remained open this whole time, right until the two of them stepped back inside.
“We'll just have to use the stairs then.”
“Jiang Cheng lives on the fourteenth floor,” Nie Huaisang screeches in alarm.
“Exactly.” Wei Ying pops his gum again. “Easy peasy!” But when he tries the door that leads to the stairwell, the door does not open. So he tries again. And again. But the door refuses to budge. “Don’t tell me we need a fob to use the stairs too.”
Beside him Nie Huaisang taps on a sign with a well manicured fingernail and reads, “The stairs cannot be accessed without a fob.”
“Fuck.” Wei Ying squints at the empty security desk. “Jiang Cheng will have to come down to let us in.”
“He’s going to be so pissed off,” Nie Huaisang says, but takes out his phone to message Jiang Cheng anyway.
Several minutes pass as they wait for Jiang Cheng to respond. Wei Ying watches as Nie Huaisang taps irriatedly at his phone, his frown getting deeper and deeper. “What is it?”
“He hasn’t read any of my messages, but they’re all going through so I know his phone is on.”
“Maybe he’s in the shower or taking a shit, or something.” Although Wei Ying remembers Jiang Cheng complaining about the time of night and how much he wanted to sleep. “Try ringing him instead.”
Nie Huaisang nods and puts his phone to his ear. Wei Ying leans against the wall and waits.
And waits.
Eventually it becomes more than clear that Jiang Cheng is not going to pick up. “He’s probably fallen asleep,” Wei Ying groans and slides down the wall to slump onto the ground, nearly choking on his bubblegum. He spits the now discoloured lump out into a tissue with a grimace.
Nie Huaisang follows him down and buries his head in his knees. “What do we do now?”
“Break in?” Wei Ying suggests, and gets a disparaging look from Nie Huaisang in response. “What? I could totally break in! Remember when—”
“Yes, I remember,” Nie Huaisang cuts him off. “I know for certain that you’d be able to break in. But I’m really not in the mood to get arrested tonight, Wei Ying. Please.”
“Well, what else can we do?” He’s already eyeing the security system, thinking up ways he might be able to bypass it. A packet of gummies hits him square in the head. “Hey!” Wei Ying scowls at Nie Huaisang and tears into the packet. “If only Jiang Cheng had a girlfriend so we could call her to come let us in instead,” he says around a mouthful of gummy mush.
“Yeah, if only pigs could fly,” Nie Huaisang scoffs.
Wei Ying gasps, “I’m going to tell him you said that!”
“Right now I wouldn’t care if you told him I fucked his mom. As long as he wakes up and lets us in!”
“I’m going to tell her you said that,” Wei Ying tells him with a grimace, unable to stop images of Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng’s mom getting it on popping into his head.
“She’ll fuck us both up, and you know it.”
“That’s if we ever make it out of here alive. This whole building is a death trap!” Wei Ying gestures aggressively around the place. “What if there was a fire? Or the emergency services needed to get in? Or an axe murderer was chasing us? What would we do then?” He puts on an overly saccharine voice and bats his eyelashes, “Oh sorry, Mr Murderer. Please give me a moment while I go and fetch my fob.”
Nie Huaisang grabs the packet of gummies from him. “Rich people don’t give a fuck about safety regulations,” he shrugs. “The building has a gym, pool and a sauna.”
“A sauna?” Wei Ying perks up. “Why didn’t Jiang Cheng tell me?”
“Because he's a hater.”
“That he is.” Wei Ying fluffs up the large family pack of chips they’d bought and places it on the ground to use as a pillow. The marble floor is cold and hard beneath his outstretched body, but otherwise the building is mostly warm. He closes his eyes and settles in. He’s slept in much worse places than this.
“Are you really going to sleep here?” Nie Huaisang sounds appalled.
Wei Ying cracks one eye open. “You won’t let me break in, so what other choice do I have?”
After staring at him morosely for several long moments, Nie Huaisang sighs and balls his jacket up to make a pillow for himself. “Well, at least we’re not trapped in your apartment building. The rats would have eaten us alive.”
“They’d be better company than you,” Wei Ying huffs.
Instead of responding, Nie Huaisang sits back up and punches his balled up jacket several times. “This pillow is shit.”
Wei Ying’s own makeshift pillow crunches loudly under his head. “Should we sixty-nine instead?”
“What?!” Nie Huaisang shrieks, his face rapidly draining of all colour.
“As in, you sleep on my ass and I sleep on yours. Although I’m not quite sure how it’ll work.” He uses his hands to try and figure out the positions they would need to be in. “And my ass is way juicier—”
Nie Huaisang interrupts him with a gasp. “Brilliant idea!”
“What, sixty-nineing?”
“No.” He gives Wei Ying a disgusted look. “Using grindr.”
“What?!” Now it’s Wei Ying’s turn to shriek. “This is not the time nor the place for hookups!” He looks around at the confined space of the foyer in distress. “Are you planning to have sex in front of me?”
“No, you idiot,” Nie Huaisang says, pulling his phone out once again. “I’m gonna try and use it to find someone who lives in this building so that they can let us in.”
“That’s a great idea!” Wei Ying crawls over and makes grabby hands at him. “Huaisang, I could kiss you on the mouth!”
Nie Huaisang pushes him away. “You’re not my type, Wei Ying. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Wei Ying laughs, “Fuck off, I’m everyone’s type.” But his laughter quickly fizzles out when he sees the look on Nie Huaisang’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“My phone just died.” He flips it around to show Wei Ying his phone screen; completely dark and unresponsive.
Wei Ying takes Nie Huaisang’s jacket, wraps it around his own neck and says, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end it all right now.”
“Oh, don’t be overdramatic.” He waves a hand dismissively at Wei Ying. “We can just use your phone instead.”
The jacket falls limply out of Wei Ying’s hands. “But I’m not gay!”
“I’m not asking you to suck dick, just download the app.” When he makes no move to comply, Nie Huaisang snatches Wei Ying’s phone out of his hand and downloads the app for him. Wei Ying watches with terror as the unfamiliar black and yellow icon appears on his homescreen. It takes just a few clicks before he’s got a profile up and running for Wei Ying to use. “Here.”
Wei Ying takes his phone back from him with a visibly shaky hand. “What if they want sex?”
“Then you give them sex,” Nie Huaisang shrugs.
“What!”
“I’m just kidding.” He huddles close so that they can both go through the app together.
Wei Ying has no idea how grindr even works so he lets Nie Huaisang take the reins. But that doesn’t save him from having to see a throbbing hard penis in high definition right off the bat. He yells in fright and nearly tosses his phone into the wall.
“Don’t be a baby,” Nie Huaisang laughs. “It’s just a dick!”
“Yeah, well—” Wei Ying splutters. “Find someone less… aroused!”
Nie Huaisang snickers at him and then disparagingly narrates his way through a few profiles until he comes to a stop. “Oh, this guy looks normal. Message him.”
“Why should I—” he begins, but the rest of the words immediately die in his throat when he lays eyes on the profile. Fuck. The man on his phone screen is beautiful. Face of a movie star and built like an underwear model. Wei Ying can’t make himself look away from his golden eyes, or the terribly low-slung waistband of his sweatpants.
“Earth to Wei Ying!” Nie Huaisang punches him in the arm. “Message the guy. I’m pretty sure he lives somewhere in this building. He might be able to let us in.”
Wei Ying almost tells Nie Huaisang to message him himself and then realises that he doesn’t want that. For some strange, inexplicable reason, he wants to talk to the guy himself. Wei Ying swallows to wet his dry throat and croaks, “He’s too… He’s probably a catfish.”
“Who cares? It’s not like you’re looking to marry him,” Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes.
Wei Ying’s cheeks turn embarrassingly red. “What if he’s an axe murderer?” But he’s already typing out a message.
WY (03:55): Heyyy
“That’d be kinda hot, if you ask me,” Nie Huaisang says, biting his lip. Wei Ying gives him a disgusted look, but when he sees the guy’s picture again he can’t help but imagine him wielding an axe and covered in blood and woah. Wei Ying feels a bit dizzy.
Nie Huaisang reads the message he’s sent and nudges him. “Why are you messaging him like you do want dick after all? Tell him straight up that we’re trapped and need help.”
Wei Ying scowls at him but does as told.
WY (03:55): Do you live in lotus apartments?
WY (03:56): This might be a bit weird but my friend and I are trapped in the foyer on the ground floor cos we forgot to bring a fob
WY (03:56): Pls can u help us 🥺
Several long minutes pass but they don’t get a response from the guy, even though he’s definitely seen the messages. Wei Ying can’t help the pang of disappointment he feels.
“Maybe he thinks you’re lying to get into the building, or something. Just try someone else,” Nie Huaisang suggests.
But Wei Ying doesn’t want to do that, so instead he snaps a picture of himself looking pleadingly up into the camera, eyes wide and lips pouted, the same look that always convinces Jiang Yanli to give him an extra helping of dessert. Then he takes a quick picture of Nie Huaisang where he’s once again slumped across the floor with his jacket over his face, the foyer easily recognisable in the background.
WY (04:06): I promise I’m not lying look
WY (04:06): [2 images attached.]
WY (04:06): PLEASE 🥹
WY (04:07): We’ve literally been stuck here for over an hour
He’s still typing when a blue reply bubble pops up on screen.
LZ (04:07): Coming.
WY (04:07): What?
WY (04:07): To help me?
WY (04:08): TO HELP ME RIGHT????
Wei Ying’s momentary relief quickly turns into panic when he doesn’t get any further replies from the guy. He stands and starts to pace around, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s huffing. When the light above the elevator lights up, indicating that someone is on their way down, he knows he should feel relieved that the guy is coming to help him, and not anything else. But instead he feels jittery all over. He’s not sure what would be worse, if the guy really is a catfish and looks nothing at all like his pictures, or if he looks exactly like them. The elevator pings. Wei Ying wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and turns to face the metal doors as they slide open.
The man that steps out of the elevator is the farthest thing from a catfish. Six-foot-something tall and bathed in the warm glow of the foyer lights, he’s somehow even more attractive in person than he was in his pictures.
Wei Ying feels his breath catch in his throat. “Wow. Fuck.” The words spill out of his lips unbidden and Wei Ying has to slap his hands over his mouth to keep it shut.
The man slowly looks him up and down, amused. “Likewise.” His voice is deep and gravelly.
Wei Ying’s whole body heats up. “I mean— You’re not a catfish. You’re…” Beautiful. Breathtaking. A dream. Every single word that comes to mind cannot be voiced out loud.
“Lan Zhan,” the man offers.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying repeats the name. It makes itself at home on his tongue. He licks his lips and sticks his hand out. “Wei Ying.”
Lan Zhan looks even more amused as he takes Wei Ying’s proffered hand. On anyone else the look might come across as cocky, over confident, but on him it just looks good. Instead of shaking Wei Ying’s hand he gives it a light squeeze, thumb stroking over the back of Wei Ying’s hand, and makes no move to let go. Wei Ying does not want him to.
“Ahem!” Nie Huaisang coughs loudly from behind.
Wei Ying reluctantly turns to look at him, still not letting go of Lan Zhan’s hand. Nie Huaisang has gathered all their snacks from the ground and is tapping his foot impatiently. He’s almost invisible behind all the junk food in his arms but he still manages to look irritated. Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “Thank you so much for coming to help us, Lan Zhan. We would’ve had to spend the whole night down here if it wasn’t for you.” His palm is so warm and large against Wei Ying’s. “You’re a saviour!”
“There is no need to thank me.” He tilts his head towards the elevator. “Which floor do you need?”
“Fourteen. My brother—” The word feels much lighter, easier than it used to, “—lives here. He’s probably fast asleep in his room right now with his phone on fucking silent. Me and Huaisang went out to get snacks and forgot to bring the spare fob with us.” He follows Lan Zhan into the elevator when the doors reopen, Nie Huaisang trailing along behind them. “What would we have done without you, Lan Zhan?” He bats his eyelashes. Just a little.
“Oh, I know you,” Nie Huaisang chimes.
Wei Ying doesn’t like the sound of that at all. Does he mean he’s come across Lan Zhan on grindr before and hooked up with him? He whips around to frown at Nie Huaisang and surreptitiously makes a very rude gesture to inquire whether the two of them have had relations before. A dick sucking gesture.
And then he looks up and realises that all four walls of the elevator have mirrors on them, and Lan Zhan has just seen him make that exact gesture. Wei Ying wants to die.
“No,” Nie Huaisang shakes his head. “We’ve just bumped into each other a couple of times when I’ve come to visit Jiang Cheng.”
“Oh.” Wei Ying turns back to face Lan Zhan with a sheepish smile, running his hand through his hair. “I see.”
Lan Zhan’s pretty eyes track the movement of his hand. “I have not seen you around before.”
“Yeah, um.” Wei Ying eyes the phone in Lan Zhan’s hand. He figures he has to explain himself now. “I’m not, I’m not really—” But the rest of his sentence feels stuck in his throat. It had been perfectly easy to yell, ‘I’m not gay!’ at Nie Huaisang but now Wei Ying struggles. “I’m not on grindr,” he says instead. “I only downloaded it to find someone who could let us into the building. I don’t—” and this bit feels important for some reason. “I don’t do hookups.”
“Mn.” The intensity of Lan Zhan’s gaze does not waver. “But I meant that I have not seen you around in the building before.”
“Oh!” Wei Ying wants to punch himself in the head. “Of course. Yes, I— My brother. Jiang Cheng. We’re good now, but we fell out a few years back. So this is my first time visiting his place.”
“That explains it,” Lan Zhan nods. “I would have remembered a face like yours.”
Wei Ying’s heart does something funny in his chest.
“Can someone please hit the button?” Nie Huaisang groans.
Wei Ying nearly jumps out of his skin. He’d forgotten there was someone else in the elevator with them. It’s impossible to look away from Lan Zhan, despite Nie Huaisang’s huffing and moaning. Like there’s a magnet beneath the surface of his skin, somewhere inside his ribcage, pulling him towards the man.
The elevator hardly even jolts as it begins its ascent upwards, but Wei Ying stumbles anyway, a step and a half closer to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan steadies him with a hand around his waist, warm through the thin, threadbare cotton of his two sizes too small t-shirt. Wei Ying looks up at him through his eyelashes, his own hand coming to rest on Lan Zhan’s chest, sturdy and firm under his tentative fingers.
“Which floor do you live on, Lan Zhan?” he asks. His voice comes out low, murmured in the air between them.
“Thirteen.” Lan Zhan’s hand slowly travels further along his waist, slipping just slightly underneath his shirt.
“Right below us!” Wei Ying gasps. The gasp is less to do with Lan Zhan’s words and more to do with the touch of his hand. “Lan Zhan…” he breathes, watching Lan Zhan watch him chew at his bottom lip. “Do you think it’s fate?”
“Maybe.” There is laughter in Lan Zhan’s eyes, but it doesn’t feel mocking. It feels indulgent, good enough to drown in.
“Yo, what the fuck…” Somewhere far away Nie Huaisang sounds like he’s drowning in disbelief. Wei Ying has never found it easier to ignore him.
The elevator pings as it comes to a stop, breaking Wei Ying out of his reverie. Lan Zhan follows them out onto Jiang Cheng’s floor to let them through the final set of doors with his fob. Nie Huaisang is quick to push past them and make his way into Jiang Cheng’s unlocked apartment, muttering something distinctly homophobic under his breath and slamming the door shut behind him.
Wei Ying on the other hand, loiters in the hallway, unwilling to part ways with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t know how to draw this out any further without saying anything, but for the first time in his whole life words are evading him entirely. When he looks up at Lan Zhan, he finds him already looking back at Wei Ying, still as indulgent, still as beautiful.
“It’s not my apartment or I would invite you inside…” he finally says, mustering up as much courage as he can. His intention could not be any clearer. He can feel as his face heats up with a vivid blush.
“It is late—”
“Of course.” Wei Ying’s heart sinks. ���Yes, of course. Sorry…” he laughs awkwardly. Lan Zhan had only come to help them and here was Wei Ying, practically throwing himself at the man. “Thank you so much for helping us, Lan Zhan. I won’t keep you any longer.” He thinks about getting Lan Zhan a box of chocolates or something of the sort tomorrow to thank him properly for his help. At least it’ll give him a reason to see him again. He really hopes it won’t come across as too desperate. “Thank—”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan interrupts his awkward rambling. “What I mean to say is that nothing will be open at this time of night. Will you let me take you out tomorrow?”
“Out?” Wei Ying’s mind screeches to a halt.
“For lunch,” Lan Zhan says. “Or dinner, if you’d prefer.”
“Oh. You…” Wei Ying blinks. Hope bubbles all through his body and pours out of his big, stupid mouth, “So you’re not going to just hit it and quit it?”
“No. Not unless that is what you’re looking for?” Lan Zhan quirks a brow up in question.
“No,” Wei Ying is quick to correct. “No, no. A date.” And it is with no small amount of astonishment that Wei Ying realises he is feeling shy. Something he has never, ever felt before. “A date, right?” he asks hesitantly.
“A date,” Lan Zhan confirms with a smile.
#wei wuxian#lan wangji#wangxian#mdzs#mdzs fic#mo dao zu shi#mdzs fanfic#mdzs fanfiction#wwx gets locked out of the building in the middle of the night and has to use grindr to get back inside#scribbles#3.5k
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Tenth Drink Free
Chapter 1/10: Heart 1721 words
Dewdrop is a barista in a college town. He’s sworn off romance for the time being- he doesn’t have time for it. He’s an adult with a job, he doesn’t have time for dating and inevitable heartbreak. Until a hot nursing student with an ass to rival the gods walks in. Oh fuck. And he’s got puppy eyes. Oh FUCK. A story told in the space of nine coffee shop purchases and a freebie.
Behold, the quinessential (no pun intended) coffee shop au that every fanfic author writes eventually. I need hot nursing student Aether and pathetic sopping wet barista Dew to have gay t4t sex.
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Read below or on AO3!
Dew cracks open his energy drink with his teeth as his other hand haphazardly pulls his apron over his head. The strap catches on the butterfly clip holding his hair back and yanks it out of place. Dew hisses in pain as it tugs on his hair and manages to catch it before it hits the floor.
“Hungover again?” Cirrus asks sympathetically as she passes with a tray of pastries. Dew grunts and shakes his head.
“Nah. Couldn’t sleep.” It’s only semi-true, he’d in fact been having a marathon of 80s horror movies. He’d awoken to Rain slinking out of his room at 11 to make coffee, leaving only thirty minutes to throw on clean clothes before he had to be at work. Luckily the little cafe tucked between a furniture store and a Mediterranean restaurant was only a fifteen minute walk from his apartment. The benefits of living in a college town, he supposes.
“I can let you off early so you can go home for a nap,” Cirrus offers. “Tuesdays are slow in the afternoons anyway.”
“That would be amazing, thanks Cir.” Dew sighs and takes a sip of his energy drink. He bends the tab of the can up, clamps it between his teeth, and pulls his hair back. Wrapping it into a loose bun, he secures it with the butterfly clip and retrieves his can from its precarious position.
“You’re gonna chip a tooth like that,” Swiss provides unhelpfully from his place at the sink. “And god knows if the dental insurance here will cover that.��
“I’ll be fine.” Dew rolls his eyes. “Focus on those muffin pans, dish boy.”
Swiss flips him a soapy middle finger, but Dew has turned and walked out of the kitchen by then. He downs about half of his red bull, stifles a burp behind his hand, and taps Aurora out at the register.
“Ohhh, thank god.” Rory sighs, dropping her customer service face. “There were two Karens half an hour ago. One right after the other. Fuckin’ exhausting.” Her bright pink lipstick is slightly smeared, evidence of her bad habit of chewing on her lips. “I need a drink…”
“It’s noon. Go steal a croissant from the kitchen instead. Thanks for putting me in the line of fire, by the way.” Dew rolls his eyes playfully. “Go smack Swiss’s ass for me.”
“Yessir!” Rory gives a two-finger salute before scurrying off into the kitchen. Dew sighs and resigns himself to the following hours of tedious interaction. A moment later, there’s a squawk from the kitchen followed by a squeal from Aurora.
A chai latte, a caramel macchiato, two vanilla lattes, two drip coffees, an Italian soda, and a needlessly complicated order that Dew can’t even begin to remember later, he’s only a quarter of the way through his shift. At least it’s a quiet day. The regulars from the local college usually come in before classes or on weekends to study.
Dew props his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his hand, letting his mind wander. He’s been saving up for a cool guitar pedal and managed to find it on Ebay for half the price, but he is in a bidding war for it. He’d sneak a peek at the listing on his phone while the cafe was relatively quiet but he’d left it in his bag. Shit.
He straightens up, cracks his back, and begins reorganizing the supplies behind the bar. His fingers are getting twitchy from the caffeine kicking in. He curses his health insurance for not covering ADHD medication so he can actually function as a person. Or mood stabilizers. Or even therapy.
The door swings open again as Dew is cleaning the steam wand on the espresso machine. He sets the wet rag on the counter and turns to see- oh wow. His grumpy mood is instantly forgotten.
An absolute Greek god of a man stands near the doorway, scanning the drinks menu. He’s tall, built like a brick wall with just the right amount of chub, and- from what Dew can see- an ass to die for. If he were a slightly weaker man, he would vault over the counter, drop to his knees, and choke himself unconscious on that man’s dick.
He shifts his weight and bites his tongue in annoyance. Stupid fucking high libido. He doesn’t have time to be creaming his pants at work. He’s not above using his break to jerk off in the bathroom, though…
Someone clears their throat. Big Sexy (as he’s decided to call the man) stands before him, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Oh, are you ready to order?” Dew asks, hoping to any higher powers above and/or below that he hadn’t been staring.
“Yeah. Can I get a… actually, what do you recommend?” Big Sexy asks, cocking his head adorably. Dew feels hypnotized by his dark blue eyes. “This is my first time here, I’ve been meaning to check it out for a while but kept forgetting.” He shrugs apologetically.
“Oh- yeah,” Dew stammers a bit. “I, uh, my go-to is a cold brew with hazelnut syrup and about half of one of those creamer cups.” He points at the side counter where a small shelf holds straws, sugar packets, and other extras. “You could add more cream if you want, I just like it a little bitter.”
I wonder what his cream tastes like, his horny brain supplies helpfully. Dew gives that part of his brain a mental smack and turns his attention back to Big Sexy.
“Alright, I’ll have that. Medium, please.” Big Sexy reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Dew enters the order into the register, glad to pull his eyes away from Big Sexy’s.
“That’s $4.25.” Dew grabs a clear cup from a stack and jots down the order as Big Sexy swipes his card. “And can I get a name for the order?”
“Oh- Aether. A-E-T-H-E-R.” Big Sexy- Aether replies, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Aether…” Dew mumbles to himself as he scribbles down the name. “Sick name. Your parents must’ve been cool.”
“Actually, I uh- I named myself. Had a weird phase when I was 15 and it kind of… stuck.” Aether seems a little embarrassed by this, rubbing the back of his neck.
Dew pauses for a moment to consider this information. Aether could just be a nickname, or… well, Dew had renamed himself at 13. There could be a possibility that Aether was trans, just like him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Instead he turns to begin making the drink.
“I’ll have it for you in a minute,” he tells Aether, physically restraining himself from sneaking another glance at those pretty blue eyes. That would have been weird, and he really doesn’t want to scare this guy off.
Dew finishes making the coffee almost on autopilot. He wants to ask questions- was he a student at the local college? If yes, what did he study? Did he have a private dorm room? Would he be willing to fuck Dew until-
Good lord, get your shit together. Dew thinks, giving his head a shake. Your break’s in half an hour. You can fantasize then.
He slides the finished drink across the counter with a little creamer cup on top. “Aether? Here ya go.” He didn’t really need to call out the order name since there wasn’t anyone else waiting, but he liked saying it. Aether. Ay-ther. It was a cool name.
“Thanks, uh…” Aether’s eyes dart down to Dew’s nametag. “Dew. That’s, ah- that’s a cool name too.”
“Thanks. Picked it out myself.” Dew rarely genuinely smiles at customers, but the grin he gives Aether is 100% real. “You’ll never guess what it’s short for.”
“Hmm… Dewey? Dwight?” Aether cocks his head again, not unlike a puppy. Dew shakes his head.
“Nope.” Dew turns back to the machines, picking up his discarded cleaning rag. “You can keep trying, I doubt you’ll get it.”
“Guess I’ll have to keep coming back.” Aether chuckles. “Do you guys have a punch card by any chance?”
Dew sputters, left reeling by the comment. God, he’s pathetic. The mere suggestion that Aether might be coming back makes his heart flutter like a teen with their first crush. Oh fuck, was this a crush? He’s too old to be having those.
“Um- yeah, let me get one for you.” Dew turns back to the register to hopefully hide any blush he had and retrieves a punch card from the drawer under the counter. He remembers to grab the hole puncher too and clicks a hole in the first space on the card. It was a heart today, of all shapes. “Here.”
“Thanks so much.” Aether gives Dew a smile and poor Dew can do nothing but stare at his stupid, gorgeous puppy eyes. “I’ll make sure to come back.”
“Y-yeah, see you soon then.” Dew manages to say with a nod. He watches Aether leave- Good lord, that ass is a sight to behold- and decides to take his break early. He taps Swiss in and makes for the back door of the kitchen.
Leaning against the wall next to the dumpster, he lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag. His head tips back against the brick wall as he exhales the smoke. God… pull it together. You are twenty-four. You have a job and hobbies. You absolutely CANNOT be having a puppy crush on a CUSTOMER. Especially one you’ve only interacted with for five minutes. This is pathetic. Finish your cig and go do your job so you can get paid and be a functioning adult.
Dew does just that- smokes his cigarette down to the filter, stubs it out on the wall, tosses the butt into the dumpster, pops a mint in his mouth, and re-enters the kitchen.
The rest of his shift goes… fine, he guesses. He downs another red bull, banters with Swiss, gets scolded by Cumulus for “using kitchen equipment unsafely” (closing an oven with his hip), and manages to interact with customers without accumulating an HR report.
On his walk home, the darkening autumn sky is remarkably close to a certain shade of blue. Dew grits his teeth and turns his gaze to the sidewalk.
kudos and comments on ao3 would make my day!
#nameless ghouls#the band ghost#dewdrop ghoul#aether ghoul#dewther#dewdrop/aether#aether/dewdrop#trans dewdrop#trans aether#trans ghouls#wham writes#Dewther TDF
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Oof.
I've been fixing and building computers since I was 12.
I consider myself to be a technologist.
I have repaired hundreds of technological gadgets in my lifetime.
One of my jobs was providing phone support for a local dial-up internet service.
If there is one thing I know, it is "turn it off and on again."
It's a meme for a reason.
So when I just called technical support for my glucose monitor app and the guy asked me if I had turned my phone off and on again, I felt pretty stupid.
Because I hadn't done that.
And it fixed my problem.
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