#police officer teapot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wing-ed-thing · 2 years ago

Text

The Tea Party (Levi x Reader)

Synopsis: After exhausting days, you and Levi lock yourselves in your office for tea to wind down. But after Erwin's new beast of an assignment, people are starting to encroach on your exclusive club.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: Alcohol, No Reader Pronouns, Section Commander Reader, Non-Binary Hange, Brisket

Notes: The first 4k wrote so smoothly until it didn't

Levi closed the door to your office, leaning his back onto the solid wood behind him. His head tilted against it with a gentle thump as he heaved a deep and steady sigh. You were already halfway across the room, struggling to tear your jacket from your shoulders. By the time you managed to free your left arm, the right cuff had snagged itself on the rolled-up sleeve of your button-up. You whipped it to the floor in frustration, and only then were you released from your garment’s grip.

You made brief eye contact with Levi, his gaze as tired and exasperated as your own. He locked your office door without even having to look. A few footsteps echoed out in the hallway. You and Levi eyed each other carefully until you heard them fade into the stairwell. Wordlessly, you made your way around your desk, tugging impatiently at the bottom left drawer to take out your kettle. Something had told you that today would be tedious, so you had convenienced yourself by filling it beforehand.

Levi plucked your jacket off the ground with a single, lazy motion, folding it properly before tossing it onto the corner of your desk. He didn’t have the energy or motivation to scold you; however, given how the week had been going, he didn’t blame you for wanting to peel your uniform off. He might have done the same if another thing had gone awry on the way to your office.

He went straight to the side cart next to your desk as you worked on heating the water. A modestly ornate teapot sat on the little four-wheeled station with a small set of teacups sitting upside down on saucers. The shelf below stored a wide selection of teas and a half-filled sugar bowl, which Levi placed on the top of the cart with the cups. The lowest shelf, which Levi had seldom paid any attention to, held your secret stash of liquors. Levi took one of the glass containers in his hands as he knelt.

“Do you even know how to use a decanter?” he grumbled. You let out a hiss somewhere above on the other side of the desk, having somehow burned yourself.

“A what?” No wonder it was empty.

Levi snorted, placing it back in favor of a full bottle.

Your hand reached down to grip a container of black tea. It wasn’t Levi’s go-to, but a mutual favorite among the small hoard of teas that had been gifted from that Military Police officer you were seeing a few months back. Levi wasn’t one to pass up trying a flight of expensive teas— especially when they weren’t his own— and with your office significantly quieter than his, the arrangement at yours was the obvious choice. Even Captain Levi needed a break sometimes.

He read the label on the round, stout bottle. Steam wafted into the air as you poured the water into the teapot. The water turned darker immediately, even before you placed the lid.

“I didn’t know there was such a proof,” Levi muttered, popping the top open to give the alcohol a smell. He recoiled, swiftly recapping the bottle.

“Oh, you know those MPs. They love any excuse for a party.”

“S’that why it didn’t work out?”

You handed Levi a teacup and saucer, balancing your own in one hand and picking the teapot up by the handle with the other. You shook your head, too tired to be amused.

“Among other things.”

You slumped down at the table for two in front of your large office window, heaving out a deep sigh. While half of your view was obscured by dull brick— and uncomfortably, another window that peered into yours from a different hallway— the other half allowed you a modestly dreamy view of Trost. You took a sip of your tea. Levi sat across from you, placing the bottle of alcohol between you at the center of the table. With a flick of his wrist, the cap fell onto the wood below.

You raised your brow at him from over the rim of your cup.

“You want to drink?”

Levi only shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He gazed out the window over the lantern lights that littered Trost.

“You look like you need it.”

You slouched down farther in your chair until the back nestled against the bend of your neck. One side of your saucer balanced against the folds of the bunched-up fabric at the front of your button-up. You let out another sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

Levi leaned an elbow on the table, cheek in his palm as he continued to stare out the window. He crossed his boots, ankles stretching over the legs of the tripod base. He sipped his tea, eyes almost as glazed over as the glass he gazed through. A vein just above his left eye began to twitch. Levi placed his cup down, letting it clink against the delicate saucer. He rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm, letting his head bow as his fingers ran through his greasy hair.

You sat up, struggling as the legs of your chair tilted against the hardwood floor. The inch of liquid in your cup sloshed, almost spilling over the sides. It settled as you traded it for the open bottle of alcohol at the center of the table. Levi’s slender eyes studied you from behind his ruffled bangs.

“So you did need it.”

“Shut up.”

You took a swig straight from the bottle. Levi sat hunched over, arms crossed on the wooden surface below as he watched you read the label. The liquid splashed against the glass as you swirled it. You glanced at the amber liquid, then at your teacup, and with an amused dip of your lip, you filled it—the leftover tea mixed with the alcohol, producing a lighter color. Levi’s nose crinkled at the sight.

“You degenerate.” He scowled as you took a tentative sip. Your lips pursed, pleasantly surprised. You hummed, offering him the bottle. The corner of Levi’s mouth dipped into a deeper frown, the twitch of his eye almost syncing with the twitch of his lips.

He snatched the neck from your grip, turning his attention back to the window. Levi turned it in his hand so that the opening faced toward him. The weight of it settled on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. He took his sip from the reverse grip, a series of bubbles bursting at the bottom of the bottle. Levi returned it to the table with a flick of his wrist.

“Same time next week?”

You studied the dregs at the bottom of your teacup.

“You think we’ll last a week?” A single drop of brown liquid raced around the circumference of the teacup as you tilted it. Your eyebrow raised on your forehead. Levi let out a grunt as he stood. He muttered something in agreement as he capped your expensive alcohol.

You stood in suit, shrugging two of your leather straps off your shoulders as you plopped down in the chair behind your desk. Levi collected the cup you left behind on a tray as you scooted in to thumb through the files on your desk. He tilted the doorknob down with his elbow before disappearing into the dark hallway.

You stared at the paperwork in front of you, going so far as picking up a pen to fill out a few forms before Levi came back. You hardly heard him when he did, only noticing the quiet rattle of your newly cleaned tea set as he placed it back on your cart. The amount of paperwork that you managed to finish had already formed into a significant pile to your right.

He spoke your name, placing a hand firmly on your shoulder.

“That’s enough. It’ll be waiting for you in the morning.”

You didn’t try to fight him and retired your pen for the night without complaint. Levi held up your jacket, helping you put it on before you exited your office together.

***

You woke up before the sun even rose, unfortunately. After a night of shallow sleep, you barely even remembered falling asleep or if you had fallen asleep at all. The only evidence of the hours passed was the slowly ticking clock hanging on the wall near the ceiling. You laid in bed, watching the second hand make a few laps before you finally forced yourself out of bed.

You witnessed the rest of the sunrise passively from your office, noting how the shadows of the various items on your desk moved slowly throughout the day. With the paperwork from the night before long finished, you continued with other administrative work, knowing that the mountain of files would undoubtedly keep you up for another restless night if you didn’t finish them sooner rather than later.

The door to your office opened suddenly sometime in the early afternoon. Levi shut it swiftly and firmly behind him, letting out a deep huff as he locked it. His hand gripped a cotton handle cover tightly, turning red from the tension and the kettle that steamed below. You hardly looked up from your work, sparing only a single glimpse before clearing away a bit of the chaos in front of you.

“You come here to hide again? I thought you said we’d pick up next week.”

“If I hear ‘Captain Levi’ again, even once for the rest of the day, I’m going to lose it.” He stormed forward, making a beeline straight for your tea cart. You reached down into your desk drawers to pluck out a trivet, throwing it forward to the edge of your workspace for Levi to place his kettle. It smacked down with a metallic slam before he knelt to rifle through your tea selection. “I swear, those brats don’t understand the meaning of a closed door.”

You glanced from the top of his head to your own door.

“Clearly,” you mused with a roll of your eyes. Levi peered up at you with a deep grimace.

“Don’t you get smart with me.” He stood, a new tea in his palm, as he took to aggressively making a pot. “You don’t get bothered every minute of every goddamn day.”

“It just means the soldiers look up to you. You’re the one with the special unit, after all,” you noted, an almost mischievous glint in your eyes. Levi’s unspoken annoyance seeped into the atmosphere in waves. You eyed the new tin, tilting your head to read the label. “That’s a new one. I didn’t think you’d like the lavender.”

“Do you want some or not?” Levi frowned despite already pouring a cup for you. You set down your pen— it had already left a sizeable ink spot on your paper— to accept it from him. Levi took his cup to the table by the window, settling in the same seat from the previous night.

You let him huff to himself, happy to have a nice beverage to sip on while you finished your continued to work. He’d calm himself down, given the quietness.

At least, so you thought.

A blunt banging sounded somewhere down the hallway, a few muffled calls echoing through the door. You could hardly make out the words, although Levi seemed to have a better idea than you did.

“Tsk, you hear them down there?” His shoulders bopped with his scoff. He took another sip of his tea. “They come to me for everything.”

“What if it’s important?” you asked absentmindedly, adding an extra loop to your signature on a routine approval form. You played with a stray strand of hair at the back of your neck.

“It never is.”

Apparently, it was this time.

A heavy knock sounded at your door, your name resounding from the other side, the same as Levi’s had. Levi frowned, face otherwise unintelligible as you crossed the room to answer. You clicked the lock, opening the entrance only a partial way to face the cadet in the hallway.

“Very sorry to interrupt,” the cadet saluted, “These came from Commander Erwin. He said you’d know what they were.” She offered you a fat stack of bound papers from the crux of her left arm. You bid a quick thanks before sending the cadet on her way.

You pushed the door shut with your foot, turning slowly to where Levi sat. The five-inch stack of paper slumped limply between your two hands as you offered Levi a vast, blank stare.

“What are the chances that there’s one of these waiting for you in your mailbox right now?”

Levi’s shoulders visibly dropped along with his expression.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

***

If you had to give Erwin credit for one thing, it was his organizational skill.

The thick set of files gifted to you was separated into neat, hand-labeled sections. Hell, they were color-coded, making for clear goalposts for you to aim to finish. The entire thing was laid out like a workbook, sandwiching meeting minutes with verification forms, certificates, and other items that required signatures.

Levi appeared back at your office within minutes of you receiving yours, and sure enough, he held an amount of papers double the size of the file you had received, the paper creasing in his punishing grip.

“So you got one too,” you sighed, arms coiled over your chest.

“I can’t say I was happy about the work, but this—” You scooped up his abandoned teacup just in time as he slammed half the paperwork against your little table. The papers fanned out, revealing scattered, upside-down documents. Levi gestured curtly, one hand shoved into his pocket as he shifted his weight. —“I want that brat cadet’s name because she left mine spilling out all over the floor. The thing didn’t even fit into my mailbox. Hange’s the same, though not as bad as mine.”

He slammed the second half— apparently Hange’s— onto his chair. An apparent quarter of the documents at the bottom had been visibly shuffled. Dividers stuck out among both piles, marking sections that used to have been painstakingly organized by Erwin.

Levi plucked a note from the middle of the pile.

“As discussed in our last meeting, please have these done by the end of next week,” Levi read aloud. “Thank you for all of your hard work. Signed, Commander Erwin Smith. Like we didn’t know… Pretentious bastard.”

You tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, allowing yourself to wallow for only a few seconds before you turned to grab your copy of the files from your desk. Levi grumbled about a few more things that you just about tuned out. Something about an encyclopedia. You returned with your copy, disregarding Levi’s presence completely as you strode past him to your chair on the opposite side of the table. Levi’s claimed chair still sat full of Hange’s paperwork.

You took a section of Levi’s files that appeared to have stayed together, taking note of the section and headings as you thumbed through the organized version on your lap. Levi stood over you, foot tapping against your area rug with crossed arms.

“So?” he prompted, neck craning. You glanced between the section in your hand and your version before turning a page on both.

“It looks like it’s all in the same order,” you pronounced, focusing more on the pages than talking. “A few documents that have my name on them, but they seem to be a different color. Mine are organized by section, but I’m sure we can figure out where they go if we collect all the ones that are specific to you and Hange.” You placed Levi’s portion back on the table, holding your own bound file up like a book.

“See—” You tapped the page where Erwin had taped the same note he left for Levi. —“Erwin even left a smiley face on mine.” Levi huffed, snatching it before crinkling it and disposing of it.

“Did you happen to see Miche?” You asked with a slight frown, but you decided to disregard Levi’s disposal of your smiley face. He shook his head.

“No, he didn’t have one in his box. Must’ve left as soon as he got it… I don’t blame him.” He took the scattered pile from the table into his hands, corralling them as best he could into an organized stack. He leveled them against the surface of the table.

“And Hange isn’t getting back for a few days,” you said. Levi hummed affirmatively as you flipped through your work, gauging the content. “You know… I feel like we can bang the whole thing out in a few nights if we take a couple of sections at a time.”

Levi blinked at you. His lip pursed as if he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet. He turned his attention to the window with a sigh and shake his head.

“I’m getting shit sleep anyway. Whatever.”

***

Miche left his bundle on his desk, hoping it would be less daunting in the morning. Instead, when he came into the office, he could have sworn that the pile of paperwork had grown. It stared at him from the corner of his desk for the better part of the morning before he gave in and began working on it just over an hour before lunch. And now, it was almost three hours past standard work time, and Miche had hardly made a dent.

He took the collection of finished documents in his hand, skimming through the front and back of each. The ensemble had felt like more when Miche was filling everything out. But now, as he took in the indentations of his pen and the thickness of the stack, he couldn’t help but heave a steady breath.

Miche glanced at his watch, debating whether he wanted to turn in and take a break from his administrative burnout, when he smelled a pleasant scent in the air. He looked around his office, staring off speculatively at the ceiling before rising out of his chair. The light from his desk lamp illuminated the space in front of his office as he ventured out into the hallway, and it only took him a few steps until he was at your door.

Miche wondered if you also happened to stay late, and if you did, he assumed you were struggling just as much with Erwin’s latest assignment. He took another inhale, now confident that this was where the smell was coming from. Muffled voices spoke on the other side, too quietly to hear. Light illuminated from underneath your office’s entrance. Miche knocked, and the room went silent for a moment before he heard,

“Come in.”

Miche saw Levi first as he sat, ankles crossed at a table across from you. Upon further inspection, the table appeared to have had two leaves added to it, elongating it awkwardly into the center of your office. You turned in your own chair, elbow resting against the chair’s back as you offered Miche a wave, seemingly surprised to see him. The extended table held a smattering of paperwork, a teapot, two teacups, and two plates of half-finished dinner sat adjacent to you and Levi, respectively. The rest of the delicious-smelling dinner that led Miche here sat in covered containers on the wide windowsill.

“You got it, too, huh?” Levi presumed. Miche nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. He eyed the papers, but they were too unorganized to gleam any meaningful information about your progress.

“How far are you?” Miche asked skeptically with a slight squint of his eyes. The inch-and-a-half-thick pile you held up nearly made him gawk. “You’re kidding.” You offered him a sympathetic expression, gesturing him in.

“You want to join us? We still have some dinner.”

Miche considered your offer, reaching up as he gripped the lip of the door. He swayed it between his fingers as he thought, his chin jerking downwards as he considered the question he was going to ask.

“We can work on it together?” he questioned, voice almost comically low and soft. Miche’s brows wrinkled, the slightest bit of tension on his forehead. Levi rolled his eyes as his teacup hovered halfway to his lips.

“What is this? A school?” he scoffed.

“Levi’s copy got all messed up, so we’ve been working on it together. Same with Hange. Well, they’re not back yet, but theirs got messed up too.” You yawned. “You can join us if you want, but no pressure. Levi makes a great cup of tea, though.”

“You’re volunteering me now, huh?”

Miche glanced back at the leftovers on the windowsill and inhaled the sweet aroma of your tea. He gave the door two quick taps, flicking his index finger before wordlessly turning on his heel.

“I’ll be right back.”

***

You decided to call it quits at some ungodly hour of the night. Miche pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the area around his inner eyes as he fought off exhaustion. Neither you nor Levi appeared remotely as tired as you buzzed around the office, putting back the various cups, pens, and other accouterments you used during your group work session. The two of you looked exhausted, Miche decided, but not tired— if there was such an appearance.

He stood, finally clearing the last of his papers off the table with a yawn.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked for yet another time. You shook your head.

“No, we’re almost wrapped up here. Thanks, Miche.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, bidding the two of you a good night as he entered the dark hall. Miche could still see the light of your office on by the time he exited Headquarters.

***

Miche was apparently a very talented home cook, and Hange had evidently returned a half day early. You learned both things in approximately the same moment, having just tasted your first spoonful of Miche’s homemade risotto when Hange burst through your door.

“You guys have food?” they cried before Levi sent them off to grab one of those shitty little plates from the floor kitchenette— his words.

Hange had apparently always been one to stick around Headquarters late, passing up the stairs and down the tiny hallway that faced directly into your office. And not one to be left out, Hange had seemingly forgotten all about their latest Titan-related project to practically knock down your door. Levi made a fourth cup of tea.

That was how Erwin, incidentally, found all of you together.

Almost a week had passed since he sent out the files to all the section commanders, and while Erwin intended on following up with all four of you before your next meeting, the task had inadvertently slipped his mind. Before he realized, it had already become the end of the day, with the joint gathering looming early on the next day’s schedule.

Already significantly past business hours, Erwin doubted that you would all still be in the office. At the very least, he could probably catch Hange, he decided as he made his way down the stairwell. The entire headquarters experienced a move a few months back, and while all the section commanders got their own offices adjacent to each other, Erwin’s had been moved two floors up.

He heard Hange’s voice before he even opened the door to the landing. It echoed throughout the empty hallway as Erwin walked past the locked doors of each section commander’s office before stopping at yours at the end of the block. Hange’s voice grew clearer. Erwin knocked firmly at your door, satisfied at the prospect of being able to check in on you and Hange at the same time. He heard an audible hum from the other side.

“Who could that be?” he heard Hange ask before you called for him to come in.

An immense, savory scent of cooking meat blasted him as he entered, and much to his surprise, all four of his section commanders were present in your office. At the very least, he had expected Levi and Miche to have already left.

He spotted Hange first, who sat with a cup of tea behind your desk among the pile of paperwork he assigned. Erwin recognized it, even as it was scattered into sections. However, the deconstructed pile didn’t hold his attention as much as the large crockpot at the edge of the desk did.

Miche held the lid with one hand. A pair of tongs was gripped in the other as a pulled meat of some sort steamed from between the claws. He held a bottle of scotch under one arm.

You and Levi sat at the table at the side of the room set for dinner and topped off with your delicate tea set.

Erwin glanced between the four of you, fighting off the goofy smile that threatened to form on his lips. He shook his head, clearing his throat as his arms coiled across his chest as he tapped his foot.

“So,” he started, unable to help the amusement that laced his voice, “What’s going on here?” Erwin watched as you turned to eye each other, hoping that one of you had an adequate response.

“Well, uh,” you began, glancing around the room. You gestured to Miche. “Miche made a brisket and potatoes.”

“And the champagne?” Erwin gestured with his thick brows to the ice bucket at the center of your coffee table. What used to be a sitting area for guests had been moved aside to accommodate your extended table. Three full stacks of papers sat neatly adjacent to your celebratory wine.

“We finally finished the beast you surprised us with— thanks for that, by the way. Well, expect Four-Eyes over there.” Levi spat in his usual charm, ushering plates to Miche to load with food and back to the table.

“I’m almost… done.” Hange stood, making a lazy attempt at snatching a filled plate from Levi’s hands. He pivoted, holding it out of their reach.

“No dinner until it’s finished.” He smacked their intruding hand, walking a few steps to the table to place the plate in front of you. You caught him by the sleeve, giving him a gentle tug.

“Hange deserves dinner, too.” You leaned forward, fully turning away from the door as you caught Hange’s eye. “You only have, like, another section, right?” They nodded, and Levi reluctantly gave Miche a fourth plate to fill with food.

“You finished already?” Erwin asked in surprise, already across your area rug to take in the three piles on your coffee table. He thumbed through them; sure enough, they were all filled out and accounted for.

“Yeah, with no help from that idiot you sent,” Levi said, finally settling down in his chair across from you. Miche shrugged, gathering the last portion of food in the crock pot.

“I finished yesterday.” By the time Erwin turned around, you, Levi, and Hange were already seated. Miche motioned with his tongs. “Did you… want any?” Hange held up the container of mashed potatoes victoriously, waving it in the air.

Another plate disappeared from the floor’s kitchenette.

***

“So much for quiet time,” Levi muttered, scrubbing at the last of the dishes in the kitchenette sink. You let out a light laugh, fatigue making you lost in the glass you were drying.

“I thought dinner was nice.”

“You know what I mean.”

You didn’t answer, listening to the sink run. A single light above you flickered dully above as you stood in silence. You sat on the counter behind him, staring off into the hallway window. You didn’t turn even as you heard Levi shut the water off. He tugged the hand towel out of your grip before hanging it on a nearby handle. The glass you were drying was taken too, and placed on the surface next to you.

“Don’t sit on the counter, it’s disgusting.” He offered his hand as he frowned up at you. You took it, sliding to the floor. Levi hit the light as you left the kitchenette together. “We’re going to have to find somewhere else soon.” You hummed in thought.

“With Erwin’s assignment done, I doubt the late nights will be a regular thing for everyone.” Levi scoffed, holding open the door to the stairwell. “My office should be fine sooner or later.”

“If we ever get that much all at once again—”

“I know you’ll give him an earful tomorrow.” Your voice reverberated in tandem with your footsteps. The moon shone clearly in the sky, illuminating your way as you traveled down. You saw it clearly when you finally made it into the outside courtyard. “We could always use your office.”

“Like hell.”

“Or—” You stopped, turning to face him. –“We can go somewhere that’s not Headquarters?” Levi glanced briefly over the cobblestone streets, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Somewhere that’s not Trost.”

You nodded, looping your arm through his, tugging him along as you continued to walk.

“Sounds good to me.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I always write the Survey Corps as doing a lot of paperwork, partially because I see them as needing to cut through bureaucratic BS and also because I like giving them mundane things to do. I'd like to think that half of the leadership duty in between kicking ass is just... administrative haha

184 notes · View notes

transgamerthoughts · 10 months ago

Text

a night at poe's masquerade

Last night I made a quick tweet about how I think Persona games (particular from Persona 3 onwards) tend to be fundamentally conservative games. In worlds filled with magic powers, shadow selves, and literal gods there's an understanding that many of the most villainous people you can know are folks in positions of social/political power who weaponize their status in order to prey on those beneath them. This is a particular focus of Persona 5 but it extends even back to back to a game like Persona 2 and characters like Tatsuzou Sudou. Although these games acknowledge the social structures that lead to particularly vicious kinds of abuse, there is tendency for our protagonist to then fold themselves into those power structures. In games that focus less on real-life political allegory, there's still pattern of protagonists eventually accepting the societal roles that they're initial chafing against. It's a very common occurrence in the series. clockwork!

Persona 4 is the chief culprit here. Yukiko struggles with the idea that her presumed inheritance of the Amagi Inn is an imposition on her life but makes peace with that fact and eventually prepares herself for that role. Chie confronts Adachi, shocked that anyone who chose to be a police officer would do so for selfish reasons or betray the ideal image she holds of that job. Though confronted with the ways in which the system enabled Adachi's murders, she ultimately decided that she wants to become a police officer. Just as some examples. there's more. it's a fraught game in many ways

(I'm not gonna talk about Naoto. That's a minefield. as a trans critic people ask what I think about Naoto quite often. my answer is I like Naoto quite a bit and while I appreciate the queer read I don't need her story to be actually about transness. my tongue in cheek deep position here is that I think she's the damn coolest thing in the Dancing All Night opening movie. absolute fire!)

Persona fans are totally reasonable human beings. by which I mean that they might be the most electric and fuckin' absurd fandom I've ever encountered. While some people agreed with my read of the series, many others swarmed in. Which is fine enough. That's just what happens when you're visible on Twitter. I don't really have an interest in outlining the series in gross detail although, contrary to many accusations, I have played all the mainline games. One thing that can never be hurled my way is a suggestion that I don't play videos games. This criticism doesn't arise out of nowhere though I admit I didn't exactly expect it to become a trending topic floating in the "For You" tab. I was tweeting before bed.

Lesson learned! this fandom is wild! So it goes!

I've been thinking about people's responses and I want to venture into fraught territory to talk about a particularly bad habit I see from many fans. Which I think can be extended to things like ongoing debates about localization as much as they can apply to this little tempest in a teapot. Which is that I've grown somewhat concerned with he ways in which RPG fans (intentionally or not) exoticize Japan as a means to defend their favorite games from critique. It's kinda bad!

and I'm gonna risk a ramble exploring the topic… and I wonder how tumblr in 2024 will compare in reaction to hellscape of twitter

Something you often encounter in these discussions is an implication (sometimes a direct suggestion) that it is impossible to really engage with Japanese media as a westerner. That there's too many layers of nuance and too many centuries of ingrained tradition for anyone who has not engaged in lengthy study on the topic to penetrate. Often, this is framed as a desire to simply put things in cultural contexts. respect it and give due seriousness! Which is fine. I absolutely think if you wanna talk about something like the portrayal of the Japanese justice system in Judgement, it probably helps to… y'know… know details about the Japanese justice system. If you want to talk about how a game approaches gender, an understanding of certain social mores is important. No one debates this; it's important to understand art as arising from specific material conditions and places.

This is not really the approach people take however. Instead there is an insistence that the cultural difference between Japan and western nations is essentially insurmountable. Which has some bad implications. I think people are well meaning when they're like "hey, you gotta watch this YouTuber talk about Shintoism and JRPG boss fights for over an hour" but it comes at the cost of painting the culture as something of a puzzle to solve. and make no mistake: I'm glad anyone is doing the work but there's a bit of strangeness at play when folks are like "well you're American" and then tell me to watch criticism also made by Americans. especially since I do have a educational background that includes the study of world religions. i've studied plenty of this! and it's not impossible for me to have grasped.

the world is beautiful and nuanced and specific and full of vibrancies. but these things are not so singular that we can't connect with them or come to know them. and those nuances and specifics and vibrances don't create a protective ward around works. if anything, they're invitations to explore something new. if I walk away from Persona with a position that you don't agree with I promise that it's not something that's happened in haste. It used to be my job to think about games. and I've thought about Persona a lot! it's not inaccesible.

When we start to paint a culture as being particularly foreign we inherently exoticize it. We drape a degree of mystery over it which implies there is no universal connections found in art. Of course the concept of "police" is different in Japan to some extent as is the expectations that go into inheriting a family business. yes, the social nuances of a classroom differ. But Japan is not so alien to the western critic that we can't look at popular fiction and spot patterns. I certain don't need a 17 anime consumer to write me an essay on honne and tatemae or whatever in order to understand what's going on in the Midnight Channel. It's an easily observable truth that Persona often identifies issues within Japan society while also (particularly in Persona 5's case) concluding that these problems are not a consequence of specific power structures but rather moral failings of certain bad individuals. That's the text. Even when it wants to suggest otherwise.

Here's a little snippet from Persona 5. On face value, it seems to contradict what I'm saying. "Harper, how can you say that it only cares about individuals when it outright says that society itself needs to be addressed!?" DO YOU EVEN PLAY THESE GAMES YOU BITCH?! The answer is that the game does not have a model or idea of what it means to change society except vaguely to inspire people to more individual action. be nicer. stand up for yourself, speak your truth, do things for your own reasons. which has a radical element to it in the context to be sure but we've spent a huge portion of the game seeing how the abuse of power, particularly power placed in certain positions and social strata

a change of mindset is good but… is that sufficient? I'm not entirely convinced. not if this game want to truly deliver on everything it has explored. (side note, a lot of folks were like "why are you focusing on p5 so much here?" and the answer is that it's recent, representative of the series' values from the last decade or so, and because I'm a tired adult in their 30s who has stuff to do and isn't obligated to make a 300 tweet long thread breaking down multiple scripts. if you want me to do that labor, you better pay me for my time. otherwise I don't care to appease fan who have no plans of truly entertaining what I'd do anyway. no breakdown I do could please them)

but you fight Yaldabaoth Harper! You kill the collective gestalt representative of the status quo!. okay sure but the metaphorical battle falters as the game ultimately imagines many of our heroes (for instance Makoto, who also decides to become a cop even after her sister leaves the profession to become a defense attorney) are content to slide into the power structures as they exist. they've simply become "good apples" in the same basket that held the bad ones What does it matter if you kill the metaphor when you don't carry through elsewhere? It's not simply some vague human desire to be exploited that created the various monstrous villains we face throughout the game. There's real material circumstances, systems and long-held powers that gave them the carte blanche that enabled their abuses! Be they financial, political, or even sexual.

We might layer nuances on top of this of course. Notions of reticence to change or valuing of tradition, attitudes towards elders. But when we do so it's important be careful. When fans imply impenetrabilities in the works by virtue of cultural difference, there's a risk of veering into a kind of Orientalism. One which mystifies the culture and turns it into a kind of "other." Distant, strange. This sometimes comes paired with a kind of infantilization of creators but that's a different though similarly fraught topic that I think is particularly best left in the hands of the creators themselves. I'm not the person to talk about that!

Nevertheless, a frustrating part of the response to my tweet today has been a rush to say "This work functions that makes it necessarily elide your ability to critique it."

I'll be an ass and generalize. It's mostly people with Persona avatars making this suggest. That Persona, as a Japanese work, is imbued with an ineffable quality that magically allows it to side-step what's ultimately a pretty timid conclusion. Many of these folks are younger players, self-identified as such in profiles, who clearly have a deep connection to the series. It means something to them. But I'd rather they simply say "hey, I found this thing particularly moving at an important moment in my life" rather than conjure an impassable ocean between myself (or really anyone) and the work in the event they find flaws.

Otherwise, you just get this:

Stories are not merely about what happens on the journey. The destination does matter. It means something when the king grabs his shining sword and fights off the orc invaders or whatever. A value system is suggested Similarly, it does means something when Chie becomes a cop. (This is just a shorthand example mind you! But you hopefully get the idea!)

I don't think games or any work of art need us to defend them. The trap of fandom is that you often turn to any possible means to justify what you love. For Persona, a series which does have the decency to explore cultural issues, that same cultural specificity is often weaponize by fans (largely western fans even!) to deflect certain problems. This process inadvertently portrays that culture as a mystery, a shrouded thing that we cannot ever criticize. It's one thing to dig into some of those contextual specifics but it's another all-together to imply these specifics provide a mean to abrogate certain analyses. and I think navigating the line between due deference and something deeper and stranger seems to be something many of the fans reacting to me... have not managed. I had a peer talk to me about this situation and their feeling was that the animated members of the fandom that were coming at me, many of whom are self-identified as young and western, were kinda treating Japan like it was a land of elves. which it's not! it is a place on Earth and yes we need to take strides to understand and respect certain specificities... but we can't mystify an entire people. especially if the purpose is to turn those people and their culture into a shield. a means to justify and validate the specialness you see in a franchise.

I call Persona conservative because it cannot imagine a world in any other shape that what we have right now. God dies but nothing actually changes. I don't think it's enough to say "well, they defeated the god! and they needed the collective strength of society to do it! people did change because without that change of heart, the heroes wouldn't have the magical juice to fight the Kabbalah monster!" to toss Makoto's words back at the series: victory against a single god is meaningless if the true enemy is society.

If you can't show me what that grand spiritual change means for society, then I think you've kinda failed. you've certainly failed if the conclusion is that the world after that change is functionally the same and it doesn't really matter to me if "they talk about this in Strikers or whatever" because you can't offload your thematic snarls to side games. if the main stories you tell can't resolve this tension, that's a problem. these are often very beautiful games. they certainly have amazing structure and systems. but I don't think it's controversial to say they often hedge their bets at the end. and there's no impenetrable cultural wall surrounding the games that leaves the criticism off the table.

that's just What Happens. and it's fine for us to acknowledge flaws in even in things that contain beauty or meant something to us

really. it's fine.

#persona #casual game crit #fandom

36 notes · View notes

sillyromance · 1 year ago

Note

All i want is Blades calming down a distressed reader. The rest? Surprise me.

Good day/night, dear brownhood69!

So, I have finally managed to finish the story!

Hope, you'll enjoy!..

🛩️Blades

A giant space monster.

- Oh, Y/N! I'm so excited! We are finally going on a date! Can you imagine that? I have never thought I could be that happy...Well I have, but...

Dani was turning around in front of a mirror; her dress's skirt plainly floated in the air, slightly waving; white fabric with bright red spots on it suited her perfectly, tightly wrapping around her slim strong body, thin belt beneficiary marking her beautiful tiny waist. She truly seemed to be on cloud nine...

You, however, couldn't share this delight with her.

That day wasn't so pleasant in your case, although it would be hard to say what exactly went wrong. It just grew from something small - perhaps, the coffee was too bitter in the morning, or it was too hot outside, or the chief acted too impatiently with you - it wasn't unnatural since five robberies happened in Griffinrock that month; poor police officer was boiling like water in a teapot. So, who knows? Anyways, everything seemed to be out of normal way of going, and the longer you were watching how Dani was preparing herself for the meeting with her boyfriend, the harder it was for you to keep yourself from bursting into tears. You tried to be nice and respond with congratulations and recommendations, but soon you gave up on this and just sat there with red eyes, lowered shoulders and weak smirk which were brilliantly unnoticed by the young woman before you.

At last, she turned back to where you were, shining like a star; a rope of pearls perfectly emphasized her elegant white neck. She was too far in her thoughts, so you didn't even hope she would recognise your state; in order to that, you continued playing along: hugged her, said some reassuring words and then looked, standing in front of the window, as she disappeared in a taxi. Well, at least now you could be alone with your grief...

You fell on the matras, wiping salty streams from your burning cheeks.

However, crying didn't bring you any relief. Squinting at the blinding-white sphere of the chandelier and listening to the monotonous, heavy ticking of clocks hanging above your head, you decided that lying on a bed in an empty room and starring at the dull grey seiling weren't good options for you too. You harshly got up, left the room and started pointlessly wandering around the station, hands in pockets.

The halls were cold, dark and lifeless. Evening light colored the walls into deep purple, wine red and smoky-blue; they ghostly, grumpily glowed at you as if the house got abandoned decades ago. The kitchen looked unfamiliar, messy. Or was it just your upset imagination creating an illusion of sadness and sorrow consuming the place while it was spoiling only your soul?.. Some questions was impossible to answer - and unnecessary either.

You didn't remember how but you came into the transformer's living room. It appeared the bots were somewhere else as well as their human partners...

Well, not everyone.

Blades was watching TV, the head on his fist, faceplate being unusually strict, almost angry. When you took a closer look, it wasn't hard to see his spirit was just as low as yours.

- Hey, Blades...

He flinched - and widened his optics in surprise as you approached him.

- Y/N! I thought you left with the rest...

You climbed on the couch and took a spot right beside him, his huge leg touching yours. The mech hesitated for a sec, but then his servo fondly embraced you.

- I wasn't even going to... And how about you? Why have you stayed at home? I thought Dani would like you to make her company on the way to the meeting...

He exhaled, slowly tapping on an armrest.

- Well, I thought I would be an extra one, you know... It's her date after all. Sometimes, we should understand when it's required to refuse doing something, so others can feel better.

You nodded, nestling deeper into his enormous palm.

- Sure.

Silence came once more. The TV was showing some meaningless old comedy with a lot of singing and dancing; it wasn't even funny. Anyways, neither Blades nor you was really interested in that, although none offered to cut it off. Something simply had to fill the air to keep ears occupied.

- You don't seem glad about your decision, don't you?

You rose the head to look at him; the helicopter tried to avoid your gaze, staring at his feet.

- It's rather... Confusing. When I stay on my own like this time, I can't help but think that something feels missing. That's all. Me and Dani rarely go separately. I mean... There was never anything standing between us. But nowadays, she has another life. Perhaps, in the future, when she marries him, she won't even do rescuing any more... And I will be lost...

He sighed once more even deeper, slamming a servo over his knee in frustration. You gave him a reassuring pat.

- It's OK, buddy. Don't think this way. He's her lover - and his importance is undiscussable. But you're her best friend and a work partner - and your role in her life, mayhaps, even greater because, ironically, many people are much more honest with friends than with husbands or wives... Believe me, Blades, he will never replace you - you two are not the same.

The words you said had their effect on the mech; after some minutes the transformer's back straightened up, he smiled at you kindly, tightening his grasp in attempt to imitate a human hug.

- Thanks, Y/N. I should be reminded of that more often...

- You're welcome, Blades. I'm happy to assist.

You got out of his hand and laid on the back of the sofa, folding your arms across the chest. You thought the bot would leave you alone now. And still, he didn't go. Instead, he gingerly picked you up and brought close to his face - you could see his orange eyes peering at you with concern.

- However, it seems you can't help yourself, are you?

This hit hard. He nailed it.

- Maybe, should we help each other?.. What would you say on some "hanging out" with me for a couple of hours?

His soft voice washed over you, weakening the shield you built in front of your heart. The thing he offered was familiar; everyone in the team tried it if not many times but once. However, you was the least experienced of all - especially, due to the fact that you didn't have a personal partner.

When you came, all bots had already had human co-workers, so you was bound to work with everyone, accidentally switching between the duos. It took time for you to get along with everybody enough to be seen as a functional part of a team; and still, you stayed a loaner.

But, meanwhile you were learning more about your alien combats, you found out that you had a soft spot for Blades. He wasn't redundantly sarcastic and hot-tempered like Heatwave, or obsessed with law and rules like Chase, or concentrated on his own thoughts like Boulder. The helicopter seemed to become the most "human" like of his comrades, moreover that he was highly interested in all kinds of Earth pop-colture and seeked to know as much of his small friends as he could. Meanwhile others complained about his childishness and cowardice (which, however, never seemed to be a problem when he was up to complete a new rescue), you accepted them as things that made him - him. And overall, this bot had a spark of gold - the reason which made you love him even more.

You answered on his worried tone with a reassuring smile.

- I think... I don't mind. But... I know so little about this stuff...

He giggled soundlessly, rubbing your head with his thumb.

- Don't be afraid - there is nothing too complicated. All that's needed is for you to stay still and for me - to do what comes naturally... I'll be careful. I promise.

After that, he winked at you playfully and opened his mouth slightly, putting your tiny body in its dark, warm cavern.

Although you knew it was safe, you couldn't help but winced when your skin touched his tongue. You looked over your shoulder; silhouettes of his dents loomed dangerously in the deem, feeble light coming through the narrow gap between his jaws. You could clearly see a piece of the room outside, and it sent shivers around all of your being. It was... strange to be here. Willingly.

Then Blades started closing the maw - in the beginning you seriously feared he could harm you... Only you to be proved that he was really aware of what he was doing: you didn't even get a scratch, though his "teeth" clinged right behind your feet. You felt his glossa begining to move; it was gently turning you on the back, and on the sides, pressing you to his cheeks and to the ribbed roof above... Frankly, it was pretty nice; the muscle was tender, saliva draining your clothes and hair appeared to be not as icky as you expected... Of course, when thinking about where you were, you felt an unpleasant, vertigos sensation coming...

And at the same time, you couldn't deny you enjoyed every moment. There was something unrealistic and fascinating in your state - you didn't have powers to defend yourself now, a much stronger being was holding you in its mouth, licking and rolling you around as if you were just a little candy... And regardless, that creature was so caring, so kind; it loved you...

All this together made you even more will-less and obedient.

Finally, Blades titled his helm back. Your body, richly covered in slime, slowly slipped along his glossa and came to the opened entrance of the throat, your feet now wiggling in his pharynx. But the mech waited - he didn't want to accidentally scare you, moreover that he could easily recognise tension occupied your body again at the minute you got close to the point of no return. He wordlessly asked for the permission to continue.

It was very thoughtful of the bot; you got a chance to look around his mouth once more. Then, you turned back, gazing into the depth of a weakly glowing, squishy tunnel craving for you to duck right in.

You could stop now.

Gooey slime sparkled with light orange on your skin and tender, smooth grey surface of the alien flesh.

Dull pain inside your skull didn't let the brain think correctly.

Two more heavy seconds dropped and disappeared.

Whatever... What was done - it was done. You patted the glossa and forced yourself to relax, laying an aching head on your crossed hands.

And a gentle, but powerful tug dragged you down...

His throat readily caught you in a delicate, plushie hug, and then unobtrusively pushed further. The mech made long pauses between swallows, so you wouldn't get overwhelmed or hurt by the muscles contracting around. His spark pulsed steadily, loudly, but somehow soothingly beside you; his rhythmic ventilating brought peace and comfort. It was easy to focus on all these normal, beautiful sounds of a strong huge body living, breathing... Consuming.

A ridiculous, funny thought came to your mind: you were his meal now; and the deeper you was gliding - the more it seemed to be right. And you smiled, at the first time on that day.

Finally, you was released into a bigger room with yielding, bouncy walls. They eagerly embraced your tiny form with their wrinkles and waves, the fueltank growling quietly at your presence. It was like being in a huge bed of cushions and blankets piled up in a heap; but unlike cloth, everything you touched was a part to a living person. The flesh leaned to you, curiously examining your hands running over it; soft blue light flowed out of the walls from the thin tubes filled with energon which gurgled faintly, running to other organs; muscles massaged your body, exhausted by the recent stress. "Now I see why Dani likes when Blades devours her." - You smirked, submitting to the sensations you were drowning in.

- Hey, are you OK, Y/N?

The phrase came unawares. It could sound strange, but you didn't expect Blades to speak to you after everything took place. People don't usually talk with food they ate. However, it was a pleasant surprise - after all, you were a person too, and it was very nice of the bot to remember this fact.

On the other side - why shouldn't he?..

You shook your head. It appeared your bad mood was influencing your mind in a much worse way than you suspected.

- Sure, don't worry about me. - You responded, stroking the nearest plump bump pulsing on your side. - How are you?

The environment around you heated up a little. Was it... blushing?

- I'm fine, thank you. - He answered with a shy chuckle, starting to fondle his tightened middle - you could easily distinguish his digits rubbing you through the layers of flexible metal. - I hope the slime doesn't bother you too much. Dani said you don't like feeling dirty...

- It's nothing, Blades. I have already got used to it. - The warmth grew even stronger, successfully showing his embarrassed. This made your cheeks go red as well. - Actually, the whole process is very pleasant indeed. Thank you, friend, and I hope you liked that too.

The helicopter laughed quietly in response, making the fueltank quiver. He undoubtedly did.

- You know... - You pressed yourself against the spot where you could feel presence of his servo. - I couldn't get rid of my sadness all day but now it's slipping away... Although, there is still a needle poking into my soul, it's much, much better now...

Suddenly, as it usually happens with people when their mental state is unstable, you broke down. Your legs stumbled, making you crush on the soft floor; you knew that if you continued talking this way, you would obviously begin to sob and whimper.

- Could you tell me some of your tales, please? - You said with a shaky voice. - I don't want to concentrate on this any longer.

The fueltank churned gently, kneading and rubbing every inch of a tiny visitor. Blades pressed harder in attempt to reach you again - your anguished tone hurt his spark like a knife.

- Well, of course... What would you like to hear?

You nuzzled in the wet tenderness of his "stomach".

- Something that ends up with: "...And they were eaten by a giant space monster."

... You both had never laughed that hard in your entire life.

#extreme cuddling #safe vore #soft vore #transformers vore #transvoremers #willing pred #willing prey #comfort vore #tfrb vore #blades vore #hurt/comfort #requests

30 notes · View notes

leseigneurdufeu · 2 years ago

Note

I really appreciate the way you romanticise your life

Well we have to don't we?

Other pro-tips: grab a shawl, pull it around you and imagine the wind blowing through your hair as your waiting for you're loved one's return on a cliff.

Sort through fake jewellery you won at a lottery as a middle schooler or whatever, and imagine which of your OCs would wear it and what the backstory of how they found such jewellery (particularly if the OC is too poor to afford it or isn't the kind to have such things in their room/pocket/person)

Learn a short and easy piece of piano and go play it in public if there's a common piano not far from your house (there's one in my city's train station, I went to play the God Save the Queen once because there's nothing better than to play a tune that is opposed to current politics, even if there are no consequences to it. be a rebel!).

Don't make a cup of tea. Make a teapot. The movement of putting the tea from the pot into the cup is something so ancestral. Same with resting your laundry basket on your hip bone.

Invite a friend to grab a bite at your house and do small british sandwiches (egg/mayo, or cucumber sandwiches, i've got a recipe for those if you're interested) or another easy-to-make-yet-kinda-long-to-prepare recipe you're not used to eating nor cooking.

Throw your mandatory readings back to the pile and read a short novel or a play you've been wanting to read for a while. It will take you somewhere else and won't delay your reading schedule too much anyway.

Lie to someone that you can't help them do this thing you don't want to do (on short notice or at all or both) because you're already engaged somewhere else. Cocooning time and be a superb conman.

Every time you take the remote to zap on TV imagine you've got a friend on the phone who just told you "have you seen the news?" and you're expecting the next channel to be the one with the news from your ennemy's failure or something.

Go to the park and walk through the trees. Take the most difficult path through the bushes and imagine you're a ranger looking for their prey or a fugitive trying to escape the law.

If your handbag is the kind that passes over one shoulder and rests on the other hip, you're now a skilled healer accompagnying a party. Take care that your herbs don't spill. You might also be carrying some kind of priceless artefact the bad guys can't put a hand on.

Carry a cool notebook and a pen everywhere. You're a chronicler for a 1920's newspaper, or maybe the Black Prince's biograph accompagnying him in his battles, or maybe a police officer in a british series about to ask the suspects of the mansion murder if they saw something, or maybe you're a botanist looking for new and wonderous plants in the faelands.

#aesthetic starved

86 notes · View notes

tt0rmrk · 1 year ago

Text

You're All I Want

pair: boyd holbrook • pedro pascal

genre: lgbtq+, fluff

audience / rating: T

contains: soft and fluff, strong language, gay sex mention, narcos© mention, boyd being teasing, pedro being a male-wife, cute teasing platoromantic-queer-boys, rain makes things sadder but softer, cigarettes after sex mention, pedro being soft asf, boyd too, flashbacks.

word count: 1.5k

music is highly recommended to have a full experience of the fic. especially "you're all I want" by cigarettes after sex.

enjoy. ;)

The flashes of the streetlights turned on earlier than normal entered through the window that overlooked the living room of the actors' apartment. The rain was light, and the sky was too crowded and dark for it to be six in the afternoon. It used to get dark at eight.

The cold invaded the apartment abundantly, the heating was on but it was not a flame large and powerful enough to heat all the corners of the place. The rugs had already been taken out, the teapot and coffee pot had been taken out, the hot food was on the table, which was releasing steam indicating that it was probably delicious too.

Pascal cooked, for the first time in a long time. He was not a man who really liked to cook, nor was he a person who would like to do homemade things (it depended on the case), but in this case he motivated himself and made something to eat. But having his nose on the aroma of the food so much had turned off his appetite. Boyd didn't seem very hungry either.

They were both under a large purple blanket, it was made of good fabric and it had cost them an arm and a leg, they were semi-lying on their sofa bed, looking for something on Netflix, to see what they could find. They made an action-comedy movie, one of their favorite genres. Boyd was more of a comedy, Pedro was more of an action guy. They decided to see that one.

***

Half an hour had already passed, the movie was still going and everything was fine. The two ate the food that the Chilean had prepared, which was very typical Chilean food. They were fried pine empanadas. The dough was made with the basics; flour, eggs, milk, white wine. Pine consists of lean meat, onion, spices, etc.

The one with some gray hair had one filled with meat and chopped onion with cut olives, and Boyd had one with beef without olives. His mouth was watering with each bite, enjoying the intense flavor in his mouth with the crunchy dough (filled with spices and a little more white wine than normal, Pedrito's touch).

The oldest smiled as he ate and chewed, he was giving himself credit and rightly so, everything was too good. Holbrook let out a sigh of pleasure at how good he was, placing his food on the plate that was in his lap. The movie was still on, and the shots and screams from the TV sounded in the background among the conversation.

"God, Pedro, this is too good. You deserve a round of applause, I didn't know you cook so well." Boyd commented after swallowing his food, looking at him with a slight gleam in his eyes. Pedro felt his heart become even warmer, which pumped faster.

"I didn't even know I cooked so well. Thanks Boyd, I'm glad you like it." Pedro smiled without showing his teeth, taking another bite of his empanada with filling. He felt his cheeks warm from the praise, but the blush could not be seen on them.

Boyd was paying attention to the movie again, watching as they captured a man who was a bastard. The police officer spat at him and almost jumped on him to hit him, but the officer's partner grabbed him from behind and pushed him away.

Boyd had déjá vù.

"I remembered when we recorded in Narcos. I was very angry that day because of what happened with my wife and I let it out. I remember when Chris scolded me for spitting at Cataño. You stopped me and that wasn't in the script. I'm glad you did it." Boyd said without looking at Pedro, who was looking attentively at the gringo, smiling slightly at having that memory.

"If you still had the chance, you would hit him and apologize, I understand you. I'm glad I stopped you." The Chilean added, smiling with some euphoria at the memory.

Then, the action scene changed to a sex scene.

It showed what was happening on the other side, while they captured the psychopath they had attacked.

The eyes of both totally heterosexual adults widened, for some reason an uncomfortable feeling settled in their chest when it was nothing new, it was just two people having passionate sex and they were doing it too. Before.

Maybe it was because it was a gay sex scene?

Pedro got nervous for some reason, not knowing what to do. He took the controller at the same time as Boyd, who had his hand on top of his which he was squeezing lightly on the controller. In the end, due to nerves, Pedro ended up releasing the control and Holbrook advanced the scene. They both laughed awkwardly and nervously.

"Sorry, I didn't know what-"

"Don't worry, it's normal for these things to happen..."

"Yes, haha. Sorry."

"Don't worry." The one with glasses spoke for the last time.

For the rest of the movie they were completely silent, the only thing that could be heard was the television, the raindrops and the bites of food, but the voices stopped. The tension rose again.

The bad thing or the good thing, the good thing?, is that Pascal had been thinking about the friction, the electrifying squeeze they had had, the sex scene and everything. Throughout. His stomach churned with so many feelings accumulated, and his chest seemed to become concave for that very reason. He swallowed, now waiting for the movie to end so he could speak.

He even panicked very slightly for a few seconds (although he didn't show it, he knew how to act well) when he heard Boyd speak again, looking at him with open eyes.

"Do you prefer to see another movie? Or some series?" Boyd looked at him with his passive-active eyes, blue like the most beautiful sapphires Pedro had ever seen.

He swallowed, he felt his cheeks blush slightly, just a little. He bit the inside of his cheeks.

"And if better... Shall we listen to some music?"

Boyd smiled at that proposal, leaving his arm on the back of the couch.

"I think it seems like a good idea. Suggestions?" Meanwhile the gringo opened Spotify on his cell phone to connect it to the TV.

Pedro thought for a few seconds, so as to look outside the apartment, at the window and at the semi-starry sky that was covered by storm clouds, and how the raindrops spread across the window glass.

"A friend recommended a band to me. The truth is that I don't dislike it at all, it's not very my style but I like it because it relaxes, it relaxes a lot."

"Name?"

"You're All I Want", by Cigarettes After Sex." Maybe it was a hint, maybe not, who knows.

Boyd listened and connected his cell phone to the television, letting the song play. He got deeper into the blanket, a little closer to Pedro. The one with dimples did the same. He ended up resting his head on Boyd's shoulder, and Boyd rested his cheek on Pedro's head, watching the song's lyrics slide across the screen.

"You would use your songs to say the words you couldn't say

And every word you sang was about you and me

I loved everything you wrote

And when you would sing I felt that my heart was falling. "

" You're all I want

We fucked so hot it left me faded

For all you are

There is no other love, it's only yours

You're all I want, all I love. "

The American chuckled as he listened to the lyrics, still looking at the screen while he slowly caressed the older man's shoulder.

"Are you still in love with your wife as if you were children? God, you're like a fifteen year old teenager." The blonde commented.

The Chilean laughed a little redder on his cheeks, embarrassed by what he had said. It wasn't about his wife though.

"Stop teasing around, that's not it. I just like the song, nothing more." He said in a hoarse tone, he was beginning to feel a little tired in Boyd's arms.

The taller one was just smiling slightly, after the mini conversation he felt hands on his arms. He was now behind Pedro, hugging him while they were both covered by that warm blanket, and Pedro had left his hands on the arms that covered him. He ended up closing his eyes and falling asleep, then Boyd followed him.

The rain had stopped when they both fell asleep, and the melancholic group's songs were still playing in the background.

#cigarretes after sex #stavier #boyd holbrook #pedro pascal #narcos #lgbtqia #fanfic #boydxpedro #javier peña #steve murphy #boyd is soft with pedro omg

8 notes · View notes

youlooklikeabeeandilikebees · 2 years ago

Text

the many reasons why 3x01 Lia is my favorite being human episode

Nina flipping Mitchell off in the first minute of the episode

“our Hawaiian dReAM”

George and Nina’s failed sex scene

intro to Tom and McNair and the amusement park chase

Vincent’s chaotic drunken energy. Even the introduction to him in that dutch angle as he gets up in the van sets up his character perfectly.

Mitchell being shit at crosswords and George singing a Jewish prayer

Lia and her smugness, charm, flirting, humor, rambling. She’s so iconic they named the episode after her.

learning more about Mitchell’s past (specifically his past kills)

George and Tom’s first meeting just awkwardly staring at each others’ chickens

the show’s first dog fight! I love Vincent’s overly theatrical introductions to McNair and the human guy.

Nina’s interaction with the police officers while saving George - calling the receptionist a nine year old, scolding the officers, and pretending she’s not in horrific pain. I’m obsessed with the way she taps the desk with her fingernail and says “it’s contagious.” I have this whole interaction practically memorized.

George and Nine telling each other I love you before transforming, worried they might kill each other

The reveal of Lia’s identity is a great small plot twist. I love how she makes Mitchell confront each victim and says he keeps making excuses. Then he finally speaks the truth and wants to confront all his victims to get Annie back.

Lia’s prophecy

Nina’s first words to George in the morning being “Loving that arse”

Annie running down the hall and embracing Mitchell. It makes me tear up every time.

Mitchell’s fakeout that he didn’t get Annie back only to see George and Nina’s joy when she pours some tea

Them gifting Annie a teapot and all dancing in front of the big Hawaii wall (after Annie’s immediate look of disgust at how ugly it is)

“I told you my name because I want it to be the last thing you ever hear” followed by “Stake and chips anyone?”

#being human #being human bbc #being human uk

14 notes · View notes

veryrealimagination · 1 year ago

Text

Comfortember Day 16 - Coffee/Tea Break

Watts brought out the new tin he found at the little Chinese store he went to the previous day. It was a calm day in the Station House, and all of his paperwork was done. It was. He did it this time. No new cases, however, and he at least had to stay until early afternoon before heading home to a delightful book waiting for him. So, he decided on trying his new acquisition.

His little teapot, enough for two servings, was brought out and he made sure that he didn’t leave old tea leaves to molder. Good, he emptied it this time. He put in a decent amount of this type and went to the small stove to heat up water.

“What is your find this time?” a voice asked. He quickly peeked to see Murdoch coming up behind him. The man had been having the same problems with no cases and complete paperwork. Although his inventing had gone up with the break from police work. To the annoyance of Inspector Brackenreid.

“Tightly rolled green tea leaves. I watched them blossom the last time I received dim sum,” he said. “I enjoyed it even as it cooled. There’s a mixture that they also served, but the second herb irritated my throat.” The older man raised an eyebrow in interest. He opened the tin and showed the leaves. With the water boiled for the right amount of minutes, he allowed it to cool for five. Then, he poured it over them. The two enjoyed seeing the leaves expand in the heated water.

“What was served with this tea?” Murdoch inquired. Watts, from previous knowledge, knew that the man wanted to try a sip of the tea. He also was now more willing to try new foods and items if his wife or someone else he trusted gave him recommendations. The fact that Llewellyn was someone he trusted held a closely guarded wave of warmth within his heart.

He had heard about Eva Pierce. When he had poured out the wine for him to taste test, he had no idea that it had been a major step for Murdoch to trust him as such. Perhaps, as he had been also tasting things alongside him.

Watts tried to have no desire to overthink it.

Carefully carrying things, he sat across from Murdoch, pouring out the tea into two separate cups. “My savory selection was a smoked fish and vegetables mixed with cream cheese of all things placed in a dumpling before being pan-fried. My sweet was fruit mixed with cream cheese.”

That sounded different. “Cream cheese and fish?” Murdoch questioned, raising his cup, “How peculiar. Could you tell the type?” The first sip was a little too hot still, but he did taste a deepness that he normally connected to black teas.

He shook his head. “No distinct flavor. It did work incredibly well. The texture of the fish was wound into the cream cheese, and there was a bit of bite still left in the vegetables. The fruit was wonderfully sweet.” Watts took a larger drink, wincing as he forgot about the heat. Murdoch watched in slight amusement. “I don’t know the name of the type of filling, but it would be something I would enjoy again. Possibly with a light wine instead of the tea.”

The older man did not roll his eyes. “A larger selection of items and a larger pot of tea would be good as a dinner party,” he mentioned. Watts perked up. He did enjoy the Murdoch-Ogden parties. The two kept sipping at the tea. Watts eyed the new invention and was planning on poking it a fair bit, making Murdoch explain its function and how breakable it was.

Instead, George walked in, ready for action. “Oh, sirs, it’s perfect that the two of you are together.”

“What have you, George?” Murdoch inquired.

“A triple murder,” he informed, “In the middle of the political office of Samuel Danvers.”

The two men looked at each other. Both had reasoning to not want to deal with political problems at the current point in time. They both finished their tea and followed George out.

#murdoch mysteries #comfortember2023 #comfortember 2023 #william murdoch #llewellyn watts #coffee or tea break

6 notes · View notes

knigaworm-dot-com · 4 months ago

Text

Rambling Review: In a Violent Nature (2024)

Rambling Review, Large Edition

WARNING! All the spoilers ahead!

I'm not sure and I'm not gonna check, but this movie might have invented the concept of Horror ASMR. As in, the movie that masquerades as horror but is really not, in actuality is an ASMR video of a man walking through the forest for most of the runtime. Essentially, this is a 90-minute video of nature sounds, steps, and characters with the IQ of teapots talking really slowly and quietly, so it's perfect for those who have trouble falling asleep.

I wish I was joking but this is what the movie really is. The characters seriously talk like ASMR YouTubers and I can't believe that we're at a place in human history when that is an acceptable way to talk to people.

If I hadn't read the brief description of the movie, I wouldn't have known that the killer is a resurrected corpse of a boy who was thrown off a fire tower or something, I fell asleep when they were telling that story by the fire, and somehow a golden locket being removed from the tree branch where the corpse was buried had reanimated him, so he now must walk for what feels like eternity to retrieve the stupid locket. And I guess he's a real connoisseur of jewellery cause the first golden locket that he found in some guy's house wasn't what he was looking for.

Btw, if the reanimated corpse is the boy who was thrown off the roof, then why did he grow into a six-foot-five man while being buried in the ground? Someone said that this was like Friday the 13th and I'm just gonna take this explanation at face value cause I'm not well-versed in Friday the 13th lore.

Anyway, apart from this lump of a killer we have a collection of cardboard cutouts of idiotic characters like:

1: Man who, upon seeing a scary monster in his house, runs away into the forest as opposed to anywhere else, screams for help to.. the birds, I guess, and proceeds to fall into his own bear trap that he had somehow forgotten about even though he was berated for the traps just five minutes ago by a police officer;

2: Man who gets half his face cut off for telling the most boring story ever, or at least that's how I interpret why he was killed;

3: Woman who goes swimming in the lake and gets cut up/drowned/dismembered/beheaded in the water - who can tell when nothing is shown and the movie is more interested in showing that the Killer Corpse can walk under water;

4: Woman who, upon seeing a scary monster approaching, tries to step back, sees that she is at the edge of a cliff, and proceeds to quietly accept her fate instead of trying to run away in literally any other direction;

5: Man who, upon hearing a car horn blaring, yells at no one so loudly that he can't hear the very loud footsteps behind him, however at least tries to fight the Killer Corpse, gets hit in the thigh with an axe and acts like he is now paralysed, as he proceeds to crawl on his elbows instead of trying to run while the Killer Corpse smashes his head with a boulder;

6: Man who shoots the Killer Corpse once and thinks that it's enough, doesn't bother to check if the Killer Corpse is breathing (which he very clearly is, but also why is he breathing? He is no longer human and he can't be killed, so why are his lungs pumping oxygen through his body?), and then gets an axe thrown at his head, fatally;

I can't continue to write about the kills anymore, suffice it to say the characters get progressively more ridiculously stupid as the movie goes on, and on, and on. Seriously, how is it only 90 minutes long but feels like 9 hours?!

Btw, we get treated to the visage of the Killer Corpse when for half of the movie his face was strategically hidden, and I suppose they thought it was going to be a pivotal scene in the film to fill the viewer with even more horror and dread, but all I could think about was, Hey look! It's the Mountain from Game of Thrones!

I was so bored that I took a break from this movie and now I can barely force myself to keep watching. I understand that people praise this "unique concept" - fine, maybe it's interesting to watch a horror movie entirely from the killer's perspective. But not when this killer is a reanimated corpse with one goal in mind - retrieve some stupid locket - and absolutely no charisma, personality, or in fact anything interesting about him to follow. And yes, there is blood and gore, and the yoga kill was semi-interesting but it's executed so poorly - the movie clearly didn't have the budget for realistic effects so it went with the Terrifier approach - that there is absolutely no impact whatsoever. And I'm not even a fan of Terrifier, but Art the Clown is at least a charismatic devil of a killer who's actually exciting to watch and even with the terrible dialogue in those movie, there are some memorable characters.

Oh no, the surviving Man just yelled "What are you waiting for?!?" to the Killer Corpse and he didn't even do it in an over the top, Jennifer Love Hewitt way. WTF?!?! And now we're hearing their idiotic dialogue at full blast, well full whisper-blast, but still. And... I refuse to write about this stupidity anymore, it's insulting at this point.

Oh look, the Final Girl got stabbed through the ankle with a tree branch (at least I think that's what happened - it was too dark to see clearly and also, I don't care), yet she is limping along on both her legs, unlike that previous moron who got lightly grazed in the thing with an axe and acted like he got paralysed. I guess they're hinting that she will make it, and she might as well cause the Killer Corpse is no longer the POV so I guess he will go back to ground now with him stupid locket intact. And now we must look at the girl walking because there hasn't been enough walking in this stupid effing movie. And now she's been picked up by some woman and she won't even say what happened, not even a hint? That's an interesting strategy. The girl was completely calm when the Killer Corpse kept pounding the ground where her boyfriend's head used to be, so maybe she's into this kind of stuff and she doesn't want to tell anyone about what happened cause she wants to go back and do some funny business with the corpses and maybe dig up Johnny the Corpse Boy? That would actually be interesting, so of course we're not gonna have that in this boring ass movie.

Btw, I still don't understand what this movie's tagline is even about - Nature is unforgiving. Like... huh? What the eff does that even mean? If anything, it should be - Nature doesn't give an F about you! Cause the final nature shots are pretty clear - no matter how many morons died in these woods last night, nature just keeps going like nothing ever happened. Like, tomorrow you ain't gonna be here, but nature sure will be.

#movies #reviews #rambling review #horror #knigaworm watches #in a violent nature

1 note · View note

the-haunted-office · 6 months ago

Note

"Oh its no problem!" Cube says calmly as he summons a teapot and some cups pouring tea into each one before levitating one cup over to Thursday for her to grab. "The ASF stands for Anon Special Forces. They act like a sort of unofficial dimensional police that researches dimensional grop and all that. Some of its professional but most of its just chaotic. You know Anons hahaha" Cube says chuckling with a slight strain in his tone. "But overall its a swell place to work and the pay isn't bad either"

Thursday grasps the floating teacup and blows on the surface of the tea a little before sipping at it, while listening to Cube explain what the ASF is.

"Oh yeah, I feel like any time the word 'dimensional' gets used, things just instantly become chaotic, ahahaha," Thursday jokes. "And especially when Anons come into play. Is that who make up the bulk of the ASF, then? Anons? It sounds really interesting! And you know the Office, there's certainly a lot 'dimensional grop' around here, haha. So what are you doing at the ASF, then? Like, what's your job there?"

#theblackcubeofdarkness

0 notes

if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year ago

Text

"SCOTT AND LAVER ADVISED TO MEET ON AUDIT SYSTEM," Toronto Globe. September 30, 1933. Page 11. ---- ''Lack of Control" Claimed for Welfare Office Tickets ---- "NOT ONE MISSING" ---- After a lengthy discussion, during which Mayor Sewart accused City Auditor Scott of "attempting to pin medals on himself," and Controller McBride replied that the City Auditor as truthful, and a man who could not be "whipped into line," the Board Control advised the City Auditor and the Commissioner of Public Welfare to get together on the auditing and accounting system used by the Department.

The discussion was occasioned by the presentation to the board of the report of the City Auditor, who stated he had sent a clerk to the department to conduct an audit, and, after discovering a shortage of bread and milk tickets which had not been used, the clerk had found the unused tickets in a cell in the Stewart Building behind a packing case. Commissioner Laver's defense was that the department had no vault in which to keep the tickets and was compelled to use the next- available spot-a police cell.

City Auditor Scott stated he was concerned with the "lack of control' of tickets, and pointed out that the tickets had been discovered, "neither parceled, tied nor labelled, behind some packing cases" in a cell.

Mayor Stewart asserted he had every confidence in Commissioner Laver. Controller McBride declared he had found the City Auditor truthful in every respect. Controller Simpson regarded the matter as trifling, and Controller Robbins cock the view that it was a tempest in a teapot.

Mr. Scott said that not a great many tickets were involved, but what his clerk had reported back to him that the department was not efficient. The City Auditor felt that a proper control system on bread and milk tickets should be built up.

"The first intimation I had that Mr. Scott was not getting what he wanted was when he sent his letter to the Board of Control," said Mr. Laver. "There is not a ticket missing. The cell is not the proper place to keep the tickets, but it is the only place we have. I have a statement from Mr. Ferguson that he handed the tickets to Mr. Bradley, the Auditor's clerk, as soon as they were asked for."

Mr. Scott did not think he should be bound to a head of a department, but should go to the Board of Control.

#toronto #board of control #relief officer #administration of relief #welfare fraud #bureaucratic incompetence #municipal politics #municipal government #unemployment relief #relief voucher #great depression in canada

0 notes

bu1410 · 11 months ago

Text

Good afternoon TUMBLR - March 20th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Abu Dhabi UAE June 1996 - Nov. 1997 -

‘’Tawheela Water Trasmission Scheme Project - Part 3

SHEIK ZAYED'S SECRETARY'S SITE VISIT Among the many reasons that contributed to Mr. Trovato's termination from the project, there was also the fact that he was present during Sheik Zayed's Sacretary's visit to site. The Secretary during the visit didn't hide he was very annoyed by Mr. Trovato's absance during his site visit, and told me he was going to report the fact to Client Works Management. One day, it was just after 11.00 in the morning, suddenly the Ajaban site was literally invaded by police and military SUVs: a great dust raised in the square in front of our offices. Quite frightened by what was happening, I was approached by a police officer who announced a surprise visit from the Sheik Zayed's Secretary!! A few minutes later a big white Mercedes with tinted windows arrives in the yard, from which a short, very slim guy came out - aquiline nose, mustache and goatee, he points at me with the usual white wand - I approached but I kept a safe distance (I was told that during a meeting Secretary whipped a Belgian guy in the face because he had contradicted him). With a ringing voice accompanied by the typical gesturing of his hands, he says to me:

WHERE IS Mr. TROVATO ahhh???

Well… (I said trying to take my time)… Sir.....as soon as I heard that you were coming… I called him… at the moment he is in Abu Dhabi… he said he will arrive immediately… (Abu Dhabi was 150 km away)

HE'S IN ABU DAHBI? YES OF COURSE …THIS MAN LIKE TOO MUCH TO ENJOY ABU DHABI!! Okay let's have a lunch here ……will see if he comes….

In reality I had called Trovato, warning him of the Secretary's visit, but he replied ''I don't a sh*****…'' In no time at all our offices were ''colonized'' by the Secretary's servants. Tables, computer shelves, were pushed aside and a large carpet was spread on the floor. Teapots, trays of kobs (round bread) dates, marzipan cakes appeared. And after a few minutes, two enormous trays carried on the shoulders of the servants entered: one of them was filled with a kind of yellow polenta, the other the traditional michoui' (a whole one) cooked on a spit. The two trays were placed on the ground and this was the signal: the Secretary, all his entourage and police officers (we included......) all sat down cross-legged and we began to eat. The procedure was simple: the index and middle fingers of the right hand were plunged into the michoui, while the guy sitting in front was doing the same, but pulling in the direction. Therefore a piece of meat was taken out - than thrown into the polenta, an attempt was made to make a meatball and then all is to be swallowed. Once we have '' familiarize'' with the guy sitting beside of each one us, the locals wanted to arrange the meatball for you!! Clearly no one had washed their hands before sitting on the floor….

Having consumed all the abundant libations, washed down with hectoliters of tea and coffee, thanked Allah for the food provided, we were ready for the visit to site. Which took place without too many problems, obtaining reasonable appreciation from the Secretary. Who let his Mercedes join him in the middle of the station, saluted with a Shoukran Ma'Salamaa and disappeared in a cloud of dust, followed by all those SUVs with cops. Only after this I understood the reason why the high-ranking officials of the Emirates police all had bellies: two events like this a week were enough, and weight, cholesterol and triglycerides certainly skyrocketed!

HIGH VOLTAGE POWER LINE The Ajaban pumping station was not equipped with generators, so it was necessary, as planned, to bring a 33,000 Volt line to the transformer building. The nearest substation was about 30 kilometers away, and the work was contracted to an Indian company, specialized in this type of activity. Once the excavations for the first pylon had been carried out, the Indians wanted to proceed as per tradition and organized a small ceremony: I had to kneel down in front of the holes in the foundations, break the coconuts on a particular stone, trying to send the coconut water inside the foundation holes. Then, with my back to the holes, I had to throw various mixtures of confetti and rice, all getting smoked by the incense sticks. After having had to eat sweets and various junk, once the ceremony was over, we proceeded with the concrete casting of the foundations of the pylons. In the meantime, the crane tried to bring an already assembled pylon closer, to be able to install it in the still fresh concrete. Unfortunately - perhaps due to a gust of wind - the pylon bent and crumpled like a twig, and this signal was seen as a bad omen by the Indians present. The canonical 7 days passed, after which the external laboratory proceeded to break the concrete cubes, prepared during the casting of the foundations of the pylons - and here the ominous omens were confirmed: the test results were lower than the minimum values. All 6 foundations had to be re-excavated and the work done all over again. This fact had a singular interpretation on the part of the Indians: according to them there was a ''negative element'' (which was identified in our Geologist…………) that had influenced the results. In my humble opinion, as a pragmatic Westerner, the reasons for the failure of the foundations were to be found in the poor quality and quantity of the cement used, and the failure to control the quantity of water used in the casting.

JEBEL HAFEET

Al Ain (eye, spring, fountain in Arabic) is a city designated by the Abu Dhabi authorities to be a place of treatment and rehabilitation for various chronic and non-chronic diseases. There are numerous clinics and hospitals in Al Ain. Approaching from the North, you are struck by the mass of Jebel Hafeet, a mountain of rock without vegetation that suddenly rises alone in the desert plain. It is the last offshoot of the Ḥajar mountain range, mountains belonging to Oman. At the foot of Jebal Hafeet is the "Green Mubazarrah", which is an important tourist attraction: several hot water springs flow into small streams and form a lake, while swimming pools and hot tubs are spread throughout the area. The only mountain in the Emirate of Abu Dhabi, and one of the highest mountains in the country, gave its name to a period in the history of the United Arab Emirates, the Hafit period of the Bronze Age (3200-2600 BC) due of the discovery of a group of important Bronze Age beehive graves at its foot. As of 2017, the mountain is recognized as part of a national park and was incorporated into the Sheikh Zayed protected area network in 2018. The road to the top of Jabel Hafeet is 11.7 km long with 21 hairpin bends and a height difference of 1290 meters (average gradient of 8% built in 1980 with three lanes (of which two for the climb) and its construction cost more than 300 million dollars. At the top there is only one building: the large villa of the Emir of Al Ain. It is a popular route among motorists and cyclists coming from the Arabian Peninsula. In January it hosts the Jebel Hafeet Mercure Challenge trophy, while in 2015 it was the arrival site of the third stage of the inaugural edition of the Abu Dhabi Tour, a cycling race organized by RCS Sport, won by the Colombian Esteban Chaves.

MUSTAFA MAHMUD - Egyption inspector of Client Works Management As already mentioned, the great heat forced us to work at night. On one of the nights I spent on site, I had the company of Mustafa Mahmud, a young Inspector of the Client's Works Management. Now also because the SAIPEM protocol expressly prohibited it, I have always tried not to discuss topics relating to religion, not only in Muslim countries, but everywhere in the world.

Mustafa, however, was a guy and that night I gave in to his insistence, when he asked me to account for my beliefs regarding faith etc. Naturally he was a convinced Muslim, but his young age and probably his proximity to Westerners had somewhat undermined his principles. In short, he asked many questions, rather than giving answers, and therefore strengthening his own beliefs. In any case, we discussed various topics - Mustafa was very knowledgeable - in which he desperately tried to convince me of the ''rightness and truth'' of the Islamic belief. I tried to counter as best I could, focusing above all on what for Muslims are ''the truths to be accepted without discussion'' (the famous 5 pillars of Islam) and which for me are obviously not. To try to put an end to a discussion that seemed to have no way out, I went to the office blackboard and drew a ball (the Earth) and a dot at the top (God):

You see Mustafa – I said – the great unbridgeable difference between you and me is this: you believe that God created the Earth, the Universe and everything that is inside it (and I drew a line from an imaginary God to the Earth)

I, however, believe that the human being, looking at the sky and seeing the sun, the stars and the planets, has never been able to give himself an explanation for all this, and therefore humans concluded ''there must be a Superior Entity that created all this, and called it ''God''. This last outing left Mustafa dumbfounded! Since his childhood child, his was teached on God existance and the possibility that God could be a human's invention had never arisen on him. During following days Mustafa avoided returning to talk about religious topics with me, but his attitude towards myself showed respect and that the flea I had in him ear would hardly have been raised in the years to come.

PREFABRICATED MANHOLES We needed to build several manholes, some of them enormous, given the diameter of the pipes carrying the water. It was decided to give the prefabrication task to Al Jabar, the largest Civil Contractor in all the Emirates. Al Jabar prefabrication yard was located in Musaffah, the place in Abu Dhabi where industrial plants, shipyards and dealerships of large American companies are concentrated. I used to visit the prefabrication yard a couple of times a week, and believe me Al Jabar prefabrication yard is the closest thing to a circle of Hell my eyes have ever seen. Machines, overhead and mobile cranes, trucks, bulldozers, tanks for prefabrication and drying of prefabricated elements: everything is huge, dirty, smoking, smelly. In the area the noise is deafening, none of the ''zombies'' who roam there speak to each other, simply because they can't hear each other. A sign language has developed over time, which everyone seems to use and understand with the utmost naturalness. Naturally, with those who, like me, come from outside, there were many misunderstandings. Al Jabar is so powerful, to the point that a legend says that for two months, during a cash crisis of Abu Dhabi Government - at the urging of the Emir Sheik Zayed, Al Jabar himself paid the salaries of all Emirates employees. In the end Al Jabar respected the delivery deadlines for the manholes we had commissioned, and the products were of good quality.

WEEK ENDS - AL BURAIMI - OMAN Al Buraimi is a city in Oman that borders Al Ain: the border essentially cuts the cities in two, as happens in other parts of the world, Ciudad Juarez - El Paso for example. We were therefore allowed to cross the border without formalities, and this was what we used to during weekend to enjoy the Buraimi Hotel entertainement. There was an excellent buffet, enlivened by the music of a Filipino band. One of Italian Company Ansaldo's vendors who worked on our construction site – a Neapolitan named Russo – had made friends with the Filipinos, to the point that he performed with them, sometimes playing the pianola, and then singing his signature piece – perhaps the Italian song that most detested – namely ''Italiano Vero'' by Toto Cotugno.

INTERCONTINENTAL HOTEL - AL AIN

Some Thursday evenings we used to go to Al AinIntercontinental bar for a beer and live music. Given the numerous hospitals and clinics, there was a strong presence of expatriate medical and nursing staff – and of all nationalities. There were Cuban, New Zealand doctors, English and Philippine nurses. I remember an Australian Doctor we came into contact with.

We chat a little, where are you from, ahh…Italians…how interesting…I would like to visit Italy one day…and all the usual amenities – then she asked my friend Franco:

And what are you doing here in the Emirates?

Well – replied Franco – we comb the desert dunes…

What does it mean ''comb the dunes''? Replied the girl with that typical expression we see in American comedy films, when the girl remains with her mouth totally open for a few seconds, trying to show all her surprise.

Well – Franco continued – you will certainly have seen the desert dunes since you came here – well anyone is enchanted by them, but unfortunately the dunes – in their natural state – are not like that.

The girl was more and more surprised…And…what are they like?

First of all they are very dirty: stones, papers, plastic bags… and then the shape is not like that of postcards, they have strange, not pleasant shapes - so Emir Zayed - may Allah guard him for 100 more years - has decided to launch a project to beautify the dunes, and make them as they are in the collective imagination - and we, with our equipment, are doing it! The girl was ecstatic: but all this is………is wonderful ! You are here to make people's dreams come true!! Great! I love Italians!! Let's have another beer….

MY (FIRST) FAREWELL TO UAE For a few months - given the chronic delay of the Project - we had been ordered to work every day including Fridays. My contract was clear: there was a limit of 240 hours per month, with one day off compatibly with the needs of the construction. A couple of weeks before leaving the Emirates for good, I sent an email to Mr. Trovato the to Branch HR Head, highlighting the contractual terms and attaching the relevant time sheets. As per SAIPEM habit, I got no answers. The day before my departure came, and I was informed that, although the flight was scheduled for 11.45 PM, I would have to leave for Abu Dhabi early in the morning, to go to the Branch. The next day I arrived in Abu Dhabi at 9.00 am, Management was not yet arrived at office. They arrived calmly around 10.30 am and after exchanging some jokes and a short briefing, I was told to wait for a decision on the possible payment for the extra days worked. At that time Abu Dhabi Company Branch was a modest office, with plasterboard and glass partition walls, so the speeches being made in the adjacent rooms could be heard very well. The discussion on whether or not to pay for my services went on for hours (I was wondering: don't these people have anything else to do?). I went for lunch, then returned to the offices, starting to worry because the take-off time was getting closer. I clearly heard HR Manager saying: ''It's better to pay him in cash otherwise this will be like others cases: as soon as they arrived in Italy they filing a complain, and then not only they're winning the cas, but from the Head Office they'll blame us because we didn't solve locally the issue!!. Other voices were spiking against this solution, and I honestly began to have enough of the pantomime, and was tempted to get up and leave. Finally around 6.30 pm I was called by the accountant, and I was given 2,600 USD in cash. All this ''cinema'' for just a few doillars, from a Company that invoice millions per year! Of course I had to sign a bunchof papers, with the usual clauses ''that nothing is owed to you and you waive any etc etc…''.

I left the Branch in the evening, the driver took me to the airport, a double sense of sadness weighed on me, partly because I was leaving Abu Dhabi and returning to the uncertainty of the future, and then in consideration of the smallness of the so-called 'Top Management '' who had deliberately waited until the last hour of the last day of my stay to make a decision that they could have taken weeks before.

1 note · View note