#selection Sunday already pissed me off & now I get this news
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Just got the news that I’m not in remission
#my numbers were looking good so we did a 3 week trial off my meds#& i went in for labs on Thur#& the first result that came through looked good#but I just checked bc I knew there was at least 3 more results waiting (and those ones take a couple days to process)#and they weren’t great#selection Sunday already pissed me off & now I get this news#don’t listen to me
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Welcome To The Family (6/???)
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / here
Yandere EraserMic household x reader
Fun fact- Tadao was a sudden decision I made up on the spot after chapter 3 and wasn’t expecting to really make him a character other than a mentioned person with a mold/fungus quirk. I did though, and already love him as an OC more than I should. Oops.
It might be a long while before the next chapter. I think I may have drained myself a bit from focusing on this story so much.
Warnings- swearing, slight coercion I think? Not really sure but better safe than sorry.
I promise the darker stuff is coming soon.
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I wake up to someone calling me. Hitoshi? Why is he calling me at… 9 in the morning? Come on dude, I want to sleep more for dinner tonight. My fault for hanging out with Tadao a bit later last night than usual. He’s started walking with me to our apartment for the past few days. I wonder why we haven’t hung out until now. Meanwhile, Ryo and I seemed to drift apart. They refuse to even look at me now when I saw them last night.
Ugh, might as well answer it. “Hey, Hitoshi. You need something?” I tiredly slur from just waking up.
“Sorry for waking you…” Apologized the familiar voice of Eri. Wait, Eri? Why does she have Hitoshi’s phone? The wonder why she has his phone wakes me up a bit more.
“Oh, hey, Eri. Is something wrong?” A slight panic enters me in the possibility something bad could have happened to one of the guys. “Wait, is everyone okay?”
“We’re good. Just wanted to talk a bit with you before tonight.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Hitoshi in the background.
Relief floods me. “That’s good. What about?”
“Our dads!” Eri cheerfully informs.
My eyes narrow in confusion. “What about them?”
“What do you think of them?” Hitoshi asks. Huh? Why does this need to be talked about now? Maybe because more likely than not the two adults are asleep, and won’t hear the conversation?
I’m too tired to be filtered right now, so whatever comes to mind is whatever is going to be said. “They’re… An interesting two, to say the least. Hizashi seems like someone I can rely on to cheer me up pretty easily if I’m ever down, and after that day Shouta was sick, I realize Shouta’s secretly a lot more caring than he lets on. Still wouldn’t want to pi- anger him.” Ugh, it’s too early. I nearly just swore with Eri there! Well, saying “piss him off” wouldn’t have been that bad, but she needs to keep that innocence at least for a while yet.
Hitoshi laughs, probably catching on with what I almost said. “Seen it first-hand with his class. Can’t say I recommend it either.”
“What about looks?” Eri suddenly asks, catching me off-guard. What do their looks have to do with anything? They’re also a married couple, so whatever I think is invalid anyways.
“Well, had this weird thought of wondering what Hizashi would look like with his hair fully down when we went to the festival, but that’s really not something that I need to tell him. It’s something I probably shouldn’t be wondering in the first place.”
“What’s the problem in wondering that? It’s just hair.”
“Says the one who always looks like he stuck his head out a car window and hair decided to stay that way.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
I go back onto the topic. “Otherwise, I’m not really sure what to talk about with them. It’s their choices of what they wear. Though it IS pretty funny imagining Hizashi forcing Shouta to wear something he normally wouldn’t.”
“It’s happened more than once before.”
I tiredly let out a laugh. “I believe it.”
“Daddy made him wear a dress!”
An almost inhuman sound comes out of me at the thought of Shouta deeply frowning with a strapless hot pink dress forced onto him, and the only reason he does it is Hizashi would probably keep pestering him otherwise.
“Maybe sometime we could get him to do it again with you here. It’s quite a thing to see.”
“Oh, really? How did he not kill you for laughing?”
“He almost did,” he replies jokingly.
“If he tries to attack me when I’m there, you’re taking the blow.” I joke back.
He goes silent for a moment. “He wouldn’t dare. If he did, he’d have an angry little girl scolding him.”
“Toooshiiii!”
“What? You know I’m right.”
“Hmph.”
“Anyway, want to tell them what you’ll wear?”
“No! It’s a surprise!”
“Right back at you two,” I inform the slightly bickering duo.
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We both hung up after a bit more of talking about tonight. I could swear there was someone talking in the background for a second, but I brushed it off as the T.V. Eri was probably watching something earlier and forgot to lower the volume.
After playing on my computer for a while since it’s close to my bed, I decided to just get up and get ready. There are not many fancy things I have, so it’s quite limited on what to wear. Hopefully, they don’t mind if it’s a bit more casual than fancy. There’s plenty of time to shop for something, but I’m honestly too lazy to go anywhere. Just something of my favorite color and slightly more fancy than my daily clothes should work.
I have to dig much deeper into my closet to find said clothing from not wearing it too often.
One of my favorite color is grabbed. Nope, that’s not it.
I move a few more. Wait, there it is! I move a few more pieces of clothing and grab it, pulling it out. Hopefully, it still fits. Welp, time to try. I take off my pajamas.
.
.
.
.
Like a glove. Perfect!
Just to make sure there are no new forgotten holes or something, I look at myself in my body mirror. Huh, I actually look pretty good in this! I might have to wear it more often. Something feels like it’s missing though. Maybe a ring or something would help?
I look over to the select few rings I have, including the forgotten one Ryo gave me. My heart slightly twinges at remembering they gave it as a best friends type of ring years ago. A ring with real blue topaz fitting my middle finger.
Might as well wear it. I slip it on and decide to leave my room, though they won’t be here for a while yet. Maybe Tadao will be around.
My body instinctively starts looking around for the familiar- oh, not again. Does he LIKE sleeping on the floor in the hall or something? I walk up to his sleeping form. I gently nudge him to move with my foot.
He groans, and curls his head deeper onto his arm, also bringing his legs up so he’s a ball. “Come on dude, I know your quirk is related to mold and all, but you’re not supposed to BECOME it.”
“I am one with the floor… I shall be the floor…” He mumbles, probably sleep talking.
I nudge him harder, making him open his eyes to look up at me. “Heyyy Y/N. What time is it?” He sluggishly asks.
I check my phone. “Already half-past noon.”
That got his attention. Both of his eyes snapped open as he shot to sit up. He grabs his rather cracked phone and looks at it. There are a few messages on the screen without him unlocking it. They’re impossible to read as he seems frantic after looking at them. “Already!? Man, I gotta get ready! I’ll be late for work!”
I don’t even get the chance to ask him anything since he gets to his feet and sprints off past my door, probably to his.
Glancing at Ryo’s door, the thought of checking on them arises. No, they’re deciding on acting out like this. Crawling to them could only continue this childish way again at some point. Ugh, what to do now though? It will be boring to just sit around for the next few hours. The park could be good for a few hours.
The villains around though? Nah. Welp, more computer time.
Familiar brown hair in the corner of my eye catches my attention before returning to my door. It’s the woman that glared at me with Hizashi at the studio. What’s she doing around here? Never saw her around before, and she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to like parties. Funny if she’s attracted to Hizashi like he told me.
She keeps her glare on me as she… Knocks on Ryo’s door? Oh hell no. There’s no way Ryo is hanging out with someone like that. I’m proven wrong though as Ryo opens the door and pulls them in without looking at me.
I- What? What’s going on lately?
Also, okay, what the ever-loving fuck Ryo!?
Calm down, give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the woman hasn’t told Ryo anything about my work, and maybe it can just be a sudden meeting they did at one point, and it’s an opposites attract type of friendship. After all, I haven’t really been around. They were bound to try to find someone else to hang out with I suppose. Should this be a concern to bring up with Hizashi and Shouta though?
I stand there still staring at Ryo’s door and blink confusedly. They couldn’t have found anyone better to hang out with? Even a villain would have been better than her in my opinion. Sure, more trouble from me being around two- basically three- heroes could arise, but I’d be willing to keep that kind of secret for them. But this? This gives me a bad feeling.
What if she’s the reason Ryo is acting so odd?
Next Sunday will be the day to get some answers from them. If they will talk to me, that is.
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Time seems to slip by while being on my computer. My phone notifies me of a text message. I look at it to see it’s from Hizashi.
“Hitoshi’s coming in to get ya! We’re waiting!” My eyes widen noticing it’s already past six at night.
I try to text him ASAP to not let Hitoshi come in. They won’t be happy with my living place. “That will be fine, call him off. I’ll be out shortly.”
“Too late! Sorry!”
I sigh. He doesn’t even know which one mine is! I put my computer away and quickly left. Looking left and right, there’s familiar purple hair far down on the right. Obviously, it’s Hitoshi. He is staring with great disgust at the peeling walls and ripped-up flooring. Oh boy, it’s probably a disaster with what is about to happen in the vehicle now.
The hallway is rather dimly lit now, making it slightly hard to see, but it’s easy to tell he’s wearing a suit matching his eye color. I’m feeling pretty underdressed now.
“Hey, Hitoshi. You could have waited outside. Uh… You probably should have no offense.”
He glares at a piece of wall that falls off onto the floor. “How do you live in this?”
I shrug. “Eh, you get used to it,” I noticed his frustrated expression. He’s about to ask me why I don’t move or something since I clearly could with my pay. “And before you say anything, I rather like it here. It’s where a lot of my closest friends are.”
His eyes narrow at me. “You could still visit instead of living here.”
Someone jumps upstairs, making the place shake, and a piece of the ceiling on this level chips off and falls next to the wall piece on the floor.
“That’s new,” I comment. It’s true, the ceiling has never fallen before. Makes me wonder when this whole building is going to collapse. Bit worried for my friends here now.
Hitoshi looks at me like I just told him the world is going to end tomorrow.
I start walking to the exit, having Hitoshi follow behind me too closely for my taste. Makes sense if he’s doing it for my protection, but he obviously doesn’t know these people as I do. He almost could be felt against my back. “You mind standing back a bit? You’re rather close.”
He does, but just barely.
It doesn't take long for us to get to the vehicle. Just like before, I get in the center and hug Eri. The slight light in the car makes it hard to see her dress, but I'm pretty sure it's a bright silverish blue. The light wasn't on long enough to notice the two up front.
They do seem to notice Hitoshi in a slightly on edge type of way. For the moment the light was on.
"What's wrong, little hypno-man?"
"Their apartment is not fitting to live in."
"What?" Hizashi's tone almost drastically changes. I'm glad I can't see them right now. I focus on the scenery past Hitoshi to try ignoring the growing unease of him whistleblowing to them.
"It's falling apart. A part of the wall fell to the floor. The inside is much worse than the outside."
"Why are you still living there? You can easily move with the money we give you." Shouta pipes up.
"Because I like living there. It's a walking distance from your place, and all my friends are there."
"You could visit them some other time if you moved. We'd pay a bus for you if needed."
"Exactly! Or I could drive ya to our place! It wouldn't be a problem, and it would give me a little somethin' to do while the grump wakes up in the morning!"
I don't feel comfortable at the thought of having to rely on them like that. They're already so busy themselves, it really wouldn't be fair to them despite what they say.
“Uh… no. Thanks for the offer, but my place is good for now.”
The air is rather tense, telling me that they want to push more on the subject, but decide not to for now.
I decided to bring up what happened earlier. “Remember that bad woman from before?”
“You mean Chiyo?” Shouta spits her name with such hate, someone would think he’d murder her if he could. Hizashi must have told him about our meeting in his studio. Wait, Isn’t that a first name?
As if reading my mind, Hizashi answers for Shouta. “She doesn’t deserve the respect of last name. What about her?”
“I discovered today she might be hanging out with one of my closest friends that doesn’t seem to be too happy with me lately. Isn’t it a bit of a concern she might tell them that I babysit for you guys?”
“That’s confidential information. Like it was said to you before you started, you can’t tell anyone our identities. They can get into serious trouble if they do, and they signed a contract accepting they wouldn’t.” Shouta replies.
“That’s good to know.” I say, sounding relieved. They could be told how Ryo thinks they’re bad parents for me babysitting so often, but that’s something that probably doesn’t need to be brought up. Especially if she can’t tell Ryo about it.
Hizashi pulls up and parks in front of the restaurant we must be dining in. wait- fuck, I’ve heard of this place. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants around here! We exit and enter the restaurant. The first thing I noticed was how well-dressed the two men were. Shouta was wearing a navy blue suit, white undershirt, and a light brown tie. Oddly, he’s also wearing glasses. When did he need glasses?
Hizashi was wearing a cream-colored suit with a dark grey undershirt and a tie matching his eye color. Looking at the four of them and the others around, I am… severely underdressed. Doesn’t feel much better with everyone that stares at me from their tables for a moment.
Wait- Hizashi’s. Hair. Is. Fully. Down. I whip my head towards Hitoshi and glare in betrayal.
He notices with a smirk, and puts his hands in front of himself in mock-defense. “Don’t look at me. He was there then, just didn’t speak.”
My eyes narrow. “So it really WASN’T the T.V.” Seriously though!? That’s so embarrassing! He must have heard everything!
Him and Hizashi chuckle at me, making me feel worse.
A woman comes up from the counter. “Please tell me the name of your reservation.”
“The Aizawa’s.” Um… I’m not exactly a part of this family? Well, it does make sense though I guess just to do a last name. Hizashi smirks at Shouta while he glares in return.
“Right this way please.” She starts to lead the five of us to a table farther in the back. The enormous chandeliers overhead from the really tall ceiling are slightly intimidating if I’m to be honest. Each crystal is taller than Hizashi from the top of his hair in his hero costume to his feet.
The white and gold walls of the place give a surprisingly calming type of effect. It’s rather cool in here as well. Probably to help combat the ones who wear layers of clothes to be more fancy or something.
“You couldn’t have chosen anything else?” Shouta hisses quietly enough for the woman not to hear, but I’m close enough that I can. I’m right between them from behind while Hitoshi and Eri are behind me. I can swear Hitoshi keeps trying to nudge me forward closer to them.
“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it babe! Besides, you and I both know you’re known much less than me! This way they won’t know us!” He leans even closer to Shouta. “And don’t deny it, you know you like the thought of me bein’ called an Aizawa~”
I can see red start to cover the side of Shouta’s face even though he tries his best to hide and prevent it. Ha! Now he’s the one to be embarrassed!
I let out a chuckle, making Hizashi turn and give me a toothy grin.
We get to a table with booth seats. The color of them is surprisingly similar to Eri’s dress.
I go to sit with Hitoshi and Eri, but like before, Hizashi grabs my wrist and has me sit between him and Shouta. Why do you keep doing this to me dude!? Shouta is on my right by the wall with Hizashi on my left by the opening.
Eri is sitting by the wall with Hitoshi by the opening in front of us. I didn’t notice before, but her dress has some candy apple red jewels the shape of diamonds, adorning the dress even more than it already was. Must be new since it’s never been seen by me before.
… I don’t like the closeness of the two men beside me again. Saying it is uncomfortable is an understatement. A difference than before is the heat of their thighs radiating through their pants onto mine.
The woman hands us menus. “Someone will be here to take your orders shortly.”
I try to brush them off while looking at the menu.
“Hey Y/N, are ya datin’ anyone?”
“Maybe.” They don’t need to know I’m not.
“That’s a yes or no question.” Shouta states with slight annoyance. He must have forgotten I told him I’m not the day he was sick.
“They better not be a villain. We’d hate to have to do something to you and them. Better be honest, you’re not looking the best right now.” Hitoshi accuses.
What the heck Hitoshi!? You’re just going to turn on me like this!? Why I ought to come over there and smack the back of your head myself!
My saving grace as the waiter comes- Tadao!? This is where he works!? He comes up to our table with a notepad in front of him. "Hello, I’m Ito, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you started with?”
“Tadao, you work here?”
His head snaps up from the notepad, and looks at me. “Oh hey, Y/N!” His face becomes a smirk. “What happened to calling me glowstick?”
“Well, you’re not really glowing right now in this light, are you?”
“Ha, you got me there.”
The three men look between us with some look I don’t really understand.
“Ya know each other?”
“You could say we’re close.” Tadao informs. They grow rather deep frowns at the news.
He clears his throat and brings his notepad up. “What drinks could I start you guys with?” We each tell him our drinks and he writes them down. “All right, drinks coming right up!” He leaves to go get them.
“He’s one of the reasons I don’t move out of my apartment. Especially now. We’ve become really close recently.”
“You should stay away from him. He seems like bad news.” Hitoshi informs.
??? huh? “Why, do you know he has a villain record or something?”
“He could be using you. Stay away from him or we might have to make sure he doesn’t do anything.”
Okay, THAT pisses me off. “First of all, you guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with outside of babysitting hours. Second of all, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could be less judging of him, because he has never done anything even slightly villainous whenever we met.” My slightly edged tone makes them back off the topic. I wanted to add third of all being he walks with me at night to our apartment place, but that seems like a bad idea if their reaction is this so far.
It grows awkwardly silent between us all for a moment. Maybe I should have kept the others to myself too, but damn it, they need to have more respect for my decisions they were never a part of, and have no need to be a part of.
Tadao comes with our drinks. He places them down, and Hizashi immediately takes a big drink of his.
“Here you guys go, and one drink for one special person.” He jokingly winks at me.
I roll my eyes in response. “Sometimes I truly wonder if I hate you.” I tease.
He rolls his eyes in return. “Admit it, you know you love me.”
Hizashi chokes on his drink. I don’t help him from still being a bit upset. He should be fine anyways after a bit.
He does, and is able to manage keeping his quirk down as well.
“Do I?” I question teasingly.
The three men glare at him. Sheesh, what’s their problem?
He seems rather uncomfortable by it and leaves in a rush immediately after taking our orders. After I almost had a heart attack from the beyond insane prices, of course. Even the cheapest thing is over half the money I’m given a day for babysitting.
I’m getting pretty upset with these guys right now. Starting to wonder if they got hit with some odd quirk again or something.
That calms me down a bit since it would kind of make sense that’s why they’re acting odd. How long will it last though? Better not be long. I don’t know if I can handle them like this without losing my mind.
“Hey, Y/N. We have something for you,” Hitoshi pipes up, and nods towards Hizashi.
“Right!” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a… necklace? It has my favorite type of jewel in it, encased behind and around the edges with what looks like real gold. A different shine is on it, like something is covering the gold to prevent it from easily being destroyed by weather or wear. The shape is in a rather large teardrop. It looks custom-made as well. Never seen anything even close to what this looks like before.
“It’s a gift!” Eri cheerfully chimes in.
“That she helped us pick for you.” Shouta informs.
Please don’t tell me it’s authentic. It looks real though. I can’t even begin to imagine the price of what it must have cost to create it if it is real. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this! It feels too much like I’m just using you guys if I do!”
The three of them frown. Even Eri seems a bit disappointed.
Eri asking me my favorite jewel kind of makes sense now, but why would they want to give this to me?
“C’mon, let’s put it on ya!” He hands it over to Hitoshi and stands up, pulling me to stand up with him. Hitoshi stands as well.
“Did you guys not hear me? I- I can’t accept it!”
Hizashi shakes his head. “Don’t be so worried, dear little lovesong! We want you to have it! Ya can’t just say no, we spent too much for it to go to waste now!”
Hitoshi goes behind me with the necklace and is able to put it on while I’m still rather reluctant to accept such a gift.
Eri’s eyes almost seem to sparkle when the clasp gets shut on it. “You look amazing!”
I freeze in my tracks to notice everyone is staring at us yet again. This time with slightly different reactions. A couple of them seem to be with envy, making me want to shrivel up and hide in a hole, and others seem to be appreciative I have something more expensive than my clothes now or something.
At least Shouta seems to give me mercy by pulling me back down in the booth and glaring at them all in such a way that they all stop staring. I’m feeling a bit like a ragdoll at this point.
Hitoshi joins him, making sure they truly stop. The glare combined of those two could probably curdle the blood of All Might himself.
The restaurant seems to grow quiet between all of us.
I decide to escape by using the bathroom. Hizashi didn’t have time to sit back down before it was necessary. “Stay here, it won’t take me long.” They still seem reluctant to let me go alone.
Getting to the bathrooms, I didn’t have to go, just wanted to get out of the stares and whispers for a little bit. Despite the men’s glares, of course there was still going to be gossip of someone in here who looks so out of place.
“Hey, Y/N, be careful around them, alright? They’re pretty strange.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Tadao behind me.
I play dumb. He probably shouldn’t know I know they must have been hit with some kind of quirk. “How do you know? They could just be being cautious since their children are with.”
“I admit, I did watch you a bit at the festival. More so the men you were with when they came. Something about them isn’t... “ He seems to be struggling with figuring out how to explain it. “It’s wrong. I just can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Again, just be careful, alright?”
I just nod and enter the bathroom.
A bit after cooling off, I go back to the dinner table, them all still waiting and chatting about school. Well, Shouta being nearly silent as usual. Hizashi quickly stands up to let me sit between them again. Ugh, I really don’t want to.
Yet I do, just to be kind. The least I can do is sit through this since they went through the effort of such a gift, even though to me it seems highly unnecessary.
Tadao comes with our food not much later with a secret frown on his face. He’s smiling, but I’ve learned him well enough by now it’s worry he has instead of a cheerful personality. It slightly drops to reveal his true emotions when he notices the guys glaring at him yet again. He doesn’t say a word, just drops all of the food off and leaves.
This feels like a really ruined dinner, even though this food is incredibly good. The atmosphere has definitely become shit. I seem to be the only one to notice. Hizashi looks over towards me and gives me another grin, not giving much comfort. What’s worse is every time I stop for a moment and rest my hand on my lap, Shouta seems to try to grab it. It led me to just keeping the utensil for my dinner in my hand.
I’ll have to apologize to Tadao for their behavior tomorrow. Easier said than done since I still can’t exactly tell him who they are. Cursed contract.
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taglist-
@dabi-s-whore, @angelicblackwolf, @fuegy-fuegy
Double fun fact- Did you know slapping someone’s back if they’re choking is actually worse than letting them try to get it out themselves, especially if it’s food? The food can actually get lodged deeper in their throat at the impact. Huh, First Aid is quite interesting.
#Yandere EraserMic household#x reader#yanderes x reader#platonic yandere shinsou x reader#yandere erasermic x reader#yandere shouta aizawa#yandere hizashi yamada#yandere eraserhead#yandere present mic#welcome to the family#yandere poly x reader
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The Party
Index
A/N: After a few days of going MIA, I’m back with a piece taken from two similar requests. I hope you like it. If you requested something, please be a little patient. I’ve had some rough days and I’m going back to my working mood :)
Have a very nice weekend!
Details:
Draco x sister! Reader / George Weasley x Malfoy! Reader / Harry x Malfoy! Reader (platonic)
Word count: 3460
Summary: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy aren’t home, so reader convinces her brother, Draco, to throw the party of the century.
“Come on, Draco,” whined (Y/N), “it’s going to be fun!”
(Y/N) had been trying to convince her younger brother to throw a party. Their parents were in France on some distant relative’s funeral and wouldn’t be back for a whole other week. She figured that doing something fun with her brother would rekindle their relationship, which had been strained for years now.
Draco was two years younger than his sister. Before Hogwarts, they adored each other. Draco looked up to her and almost idolized her. Then, she was sent off to school. The sorting hat took a long time with her and ultimately placed her in Gryffindor, much to everyone’s dismay. (Y/N) could still remember, like it was yesterday, the fear that consumed her as she sent a letter to her parents. She was expecting a howler that would fill every corner of the castle with the news of her disownment. Their silence was deafening. For a week, she had nightmares with her father burning her face from the family tapestry.
Then, on the first Sunday after her arrival, Professor McGonagall guided her to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office. For a second, there was a glimmer of hope. Maybe it was all a mistake. Perhaps she could be sorted again and her parents would be proud. As she set foot on the headmaster’s quarters, though, her face fell. As she found herself face to face with her parents, she gulped. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore left them to talk, not without giving the first year encouraging smiles.
As (Y/N) and her parents stared at each other, she decided she’d show her courageous Gryffindor side. She had always been very rebellious. Even when she played the part of the perfect pureblood, deep down she knew it wasn’t something she wanted for the rest of her life. A lot of what her parents said also didn’t sit very well with her. And this was the decisive moment.
“Mother, Father…I’m sorry.” Regardless of how hard she tried, her voice cracked. Her vision became blurry a few seconds later.
“(Y/N), dear,” her mother said, engulfing the girl in her arms.
(Y/N) sobbed in her Narcissa’s shoulder. She thought she would never feel her mother’s embrace again, yet here she was, rubbing her back and all. The relief she felt was crushed by the fact that she still had to face her father. Narcissa wiped away her daughter’s tears and gave her a reassuring smile, like she had done so many times before. Lucius then came forward, his expression unreadable. He put his hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.
“This was…unexpected, to say the least. But there is nothing to be sorry about,” he said. (Y/N) still couldn’t decide if this was a good or a bad thing.
“Y-you won’t disown me?” she asked nervously.
“Of course not! Where did you get that idea from?” her father said.
Both Narcissa and (Y/N) shot him an “are you serious” look. Everyone around them was way too keen on having their children sorted in Slytherin. Disownments, banishments and the likes were concepts that adhered to a pureblood’s vocabulary even before they could spell their names.
“My child, I can only imagine how scared you have been in the last few days. I am very, very sorry. If the sorting hat placed you in Gryffindor it is because you will be a great fit in that house. And that is it. Right, Lucius?” Narcissa’s voice was equanimous, but she eyed her husband sternly.
“Right,” he mumbled.
“We won’t lose a child to some tradition. We love you too much to care,” she continued.
That day, (Y/N) learned about her mother’s aunt Walburga and her cousin Sirius. Narcissa vowed to never repeat that story. Even if her father winced when she mentioned that she had befriended the Weasley twins, she knew they had her back. She left Dumbledore’s office feeling like the luckiest girl alive.
The bliss, though, only lasted a few months. When she went back home for the Christmas break, she noticed how something had changed between her and her brother. As much as her parents reassured her, she swore he treated her differently. The adventures around the manor ended, as he claimed they were too old for that nonsense. Every time they were alone, she felt guilt and shame around him, as though he was always judging her. It made her sad. And she found refuge in the letters she received from the Weasley twins, especially George, who had become her best of friends.
Things turned for the worse when Draco arrived in Hogwarts, strutting with a posse of eleven-year-old entitled purebloods like he owned the place. Of course, he was sorted into Slytherin. He never looked her way after that. (Y/N) guessed that now he was bothered by everything she did, everyone she befriended and everything she stood for. She decided not to let that get the best of her and instead shared love and friendship to her newly found Gryffindor family. George and Fred’s little brother, Ron, had come to his first year as well and she took his little gang under her wing, especially Harry who had been brought up by some horrible muggles.
As the years went by, as much as Draco tormented the golden trio, she comforted them. When he bullied them, she apologized. When he said mean things, she always had a comeback. She even told on him with their mother when he was particularly mean, warranting weeks without her famous the care packages.
This year, though, (Y/N) had decided to declare truce. When they got back for the summer, Narcissa locked herself with her daughter in the piano room. They talked for hours about everything and nothing. Narcissa begged her daughter to reconcile with her brother. She told her how afraid she was of her son’s fate now that it was very clear that the Dark Lord had come back. She knew that, if the time were to come, (Y/N) wouldn’t choose Voldemort and she wished with all her heart she could take her brother with her.
(Y/N) took this conversation to heart. She was about to start her last year in Hogwarts and she didn’t want to finish her school having lost her brother completely. She thought a party would be the best place to start. They could have fun together, an occurrence unseen for many, many years. Also, after four years of sneaking around with the golden trio and Fred and George, she realized that there’s an especial kind of complicity between people who shared a secret. She wanted that kind partnership with her brother as well.
After much convincing, Draco agreed. He was expecting a gathering with their pureblood friends and acquaintances, perhaps a very selected group of people to talk and gossip for a while. Maybe if she saw him in his element he could show his sister that he was also worth her time. Draco was definitely not expecting the avalanche of people that flooded the manor. All of a sudden, he was surrounded by people from all houses and blood statuses. The seventh years brought fire whiskey and muggle booze. The music was raging. He looked in disbelief as Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint raced their brooms in their mother’s garden. He was disgusted by two seventh year Ravenclaws getting handsy by the staircase.
As he walked around, he encountered some of his friends. Pansy was sulking because Daphne had ditched her to dance. Blaise had already joined in the fun and Theo sat on a sofa between a cranky Ravenclaw and a very shy Hufflepuff. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be found.
“Are you having fun, Dray?” as he turned around, he saw her sister. One of the twins, who he didn’t bother to identify, had his arm draped around her shoulder.
He wanted to tell her that she was in big, big trouble. He hadn’t agreed to this. And how it was annoying and disrespectful and inappropriate and…then he saw the infamous golden trio behind her. They were talking to the remaining Weasley twin and eyeing his home in awe. If he had been pissed and annoyed at her sister, he now felt like he would combust in any second.
Draco shot his sister a murderous look.
“I thought you’d have some more respect for me and our home,” he said icily before storming off.
(Y/N) was very confused. Her friends eyed her worriedly. George held her closer to him.
“(Y/N/N), are you okay?” he whispered softly in her ear.
George and (Y/N) had a one of a kind relationship. They knew they liked each other. Back in fourth year, she had told him bluntly. He admitted his feelings as well. They had never made it official for reasons unknown even to them. They had shared a couple of kisses and sometimes they’d walk around with their arms wrapped around each other. They’d flirt a lot. And yet, if anyone asked them, they were both single.
Under different circumstances, she would’ve blushed a little because of how close he was. Maybe, she would’ve even flirted. Right now, her gaze was fixed on her brother’s retreating form.
“Should we leave?” asked Hermione sheepishly.
(Y/N) looked at her wide-eyed, realizing how rude her brother had been to them.
“Of course not,” she answered coolly, “I’m sorry Draco is so rude. Enjoy the party. I’ll go talk to him.”
The group scattered around. (Y/N) pecked George on the lips before she went to find her brother. She didn’t have to search too much; she knew exactly where Draco hid whenever he was upset. She walked up the stairs, were the party was just a distant rumour, and walked towards a godforsaken wing of the manor. After passing through a series of judgmental portraits, she pushed a heavy door that lead a spacious room. The only thing inside was a huge, empty wardrobe, which (Y/N) and Draco used as their own playground.
She smiled at herself, knowing that even if they had outgrown their playground days, that place remained a safe haven for both of them. She opened that door softly and found her brother huddled in a corner of the dresser, his face hidden in his arms. (Y/N) took a seat by his side.
“It’s been a while since we last played here,” she said.
“It’s a miracle you still remember,” he sniffled.
“How could I forget, starlight? It was our favourite hiding place,” she said fondly, calling him by a nickname she hadn’t used in a while.
Draco looked at her for a minute. She noticed his tearstained cheeks. “Well, now you’re so busy with Potter and your blood traitor friends, you hardly look my way anymore,” he countered bitterly.
Something clicked in her mind instantly. “Is that what this is all about?”
“You’re replacing me with Potter. Why wouldn’t you? He’s better than I am in absolutely everything. You send him presents, you cheer for him in quidditch, you’re always looking out for him. You’re like…like we used to be.”
Draco hid his face again in embarrassment. Once she heard his sobs, (Y/N)’s heart broke.
“I honestly hadn’t realized you thought that way until now. But I’d never replace you, starlight. You’re my brother. The things we’ve been through, the things we share, the memories we have together, those things have bonded us for life. It killed me every day to think that you hated me for not being the perfect pureblood sister. You’re the person I love the most and thinking that I wasn’t good enough for you…it made me so, so sad.”
Draco lunged forward and hugged (Y/N) tightly. “(Y/N), you’re my sister. Yes, you could be less boisterous, more proper…” (Y/N) raised her eyebrow. “But I wouldn’t change you for the world. I’ve missed you so much.”
(Y/N) rubbed Draco’s back, like their mother did. She remembered what she said when they first arrived for vacations.
“I’ll always be here for you, Dray. And Harry’s not better than you. You’re just two different people. I won’t lie: I really love and appreciate him and I do try my best to give him some sisterly love because Merlin knows he hasn’t had much of that.” Draco tried his best not to scoff. “But you are my real brother. I don’t prefer him over you! And I’m here to reassure you, coddle you and hide in a closet while the party of the century is happening downstairs.”
Draco chocked out a laugh and hugged his sister tighter. He didn’t feel like moving just yet. (Y/N) understood he needed the embrace and so she stayed still, combing her brother’s hair with her fingers until he calmed down. She enjoyed the moment and realized how much she had missed the role of Draco’s big sister. He was such a gentle soul and even when they were kids she knew she had to be careful.
“I think…I think we can go downstairs now,” he announced timidly.
(Y/N) chuckled and nodded, refraining from teasing him. Once they were downstairs, her eyes met George’s. He sat in a circle with a bunch of people. She identified the golden trio, as well as some of Draco’s friends. Angelina Johnson was also in the group and so was Alicia Spinnet. (Y/N) dragged her brother to the circle.
“Be nice,” she mouthed to him as she took her place by George’s side.
“We’re playing spin the bottle,” said Lee Jordan before giving the bottle a spin.
A few rounds in, everyone teased (Y/N) on how she hadn’t kissed anyone. So far, Draco had given Katie Bell a peck which left him blushing. Ron and Hermione shared a sweet kiss. Harry kissed a giggly Daphne Greengrass. Theo smooched Fred, who also brushed lips with Angelina. Pansy Parkinson stamped her lips on Vincent Crabbe’s on what must have been the most dispassionate kiss of the night.
After George and Alicia shared a quick kiss, it was finally (Y/N)’s turn. She had to kiss Blaise Zabini, on of Draco’s friends. She wasn’t very sure about kissing a younger boy at first. She asked him three or four times if it was fine with him, until he made the first move. The kiss started slow and shy and then Blaise grabbed her hair and pulled her to him. Her breath hitched and she kissed back passionately. How old was this boy and why did he have so much experience?
When they pulled apart, her head was spinning. Draco was looking at them, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Some people were cheering on them, particularly on Blaise. His friends were congratulating him on being a “ladies’ man”. Her friends were shocked. She still didn’t know what to make of the situation, until she realized George had left the circle. Fred couldn’t help to shoot daggers at her.
“Excuse me,” she said standing up.
At a distance, she heard Blaise boasting and Draco threatening him. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and walked through the sea of people in search of George. ‘Why do I keep chasing after people tonight?’ she groaned when she failed to find him within five minutes.
She went out to the gardens to try and think. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she recognized the familiar mop of red hair. George was pacing around. As soon as she saw his face of disappointment, she hated herself for accepting to that stupid game with that foolish boy. She should be dancing and having fun with her crush instead of having to mend broken hearts.
They stood in front of each other. George didn’t want to meet her gaze. For years, he thought that their arrangement was the best for them. The love and attraction were there and none of the drama. They could be partners in crime without the messy bits of a relationship. So far, things had worked in their favour. But seeing her smooching that Zabini git had made him change perspectives. For one, he was jealous. He hated every second of that awful feeling. And he realized he wanted to be (Y/N)’s boyfriend. He wanted everything, including the messy bits. He wanted dates in Hogsmeade. He wanted to take her home as more than just “the twins’ friend”. Now she had kissed that Slytherin and he felt like he didn’t stand a chance.
“I know Blaise Zabini could a better match than me,” he sighed.
(Y/N) eyed him quizzically. “What are you talking about?”
“We all saw how eager he was to kiss you. He might be a bit young now, but eventually he’ll probably try to date you and marry you and be the proper pureblood family you were meant to have,” he said his fists tightening with every word.
“Don’t be silly, Weasley,” she answered, moving towards him, “you know you’re the only one I want.”
She kissed him then. It was passionate and blissful. One of his hands travelled to her hair and his fingers tangled on her ringlets. The other hand squeezed her butt. (Y/N) moaned and bit George’s lip.
“Be my girlfriend,” he said against her lips before capturing them again.
“What are you doing to my daughter?!” roared Lucius Malfoy from behind.
Like a deer in the headlights, both teenagers turned around to face the Malfoys. Narcissa and Lucius looked at her, a mixture of rage and disconcertment in their faces.
“(Y/N) Narcissa Malfoy,” her mother’s voice was stern. She might be loved and spoiled by her parents, but the look they were giving her at the moment was one that assured a punishment to kingdom come.
(Y/N) noticed her little brother standing behind their parents, a smirk on his face. She guessed he washed his hands off the matter and was waiting to see her punished for their party.
“Bloody snake,” she muttered.
“Hey, don’t call me that! You got yourself in this missy,” he huffed in response, not even concealing the pleasure this was giving her.
“I thought we had magically rekindled our relationship?”
“We did. Does it mean I’ll magically take the blame for your mess?” he said smugly.
“Your friends are also here,” George retorted. He still had his hands on (Y/N), a fact the whole family was trying to ignore until he brought the attention to himself.
“What are you…what is…why are there…drunk people…my garden!” Narcissa was so taken aback she couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Lucius was eyeing here warily; the only other time she behaved like this he had been banished from their room.
Narcissa went back inside, were everything was eerily quiet. The teenagers who just a few minutes ago had been dancing and drinking stared at the Malfoy matriarch. The music had stopped, just as any bit of conversation. She walked to her precious mahogany table in the common room, where the students had set all of the alcohol, and took a bottle of firewhiskey that hadn’t been opened yet.
“Everybody who I did not create, get out of my house right now!” She didn’t even raise her voice, but it had such a sharp edge to it that everyone in the grounds heard and complied. A sea of Hogwarts students ran out of the door.
George made a move to leave as well, but Lucius stopped him.
“No, you stay,” he said bitterly, “if you’re man enough to touch my daughter’s arse then you’re man enough to stay and listen to what I’m about to say.”
Both (Y/N) and George blushed profusely. Draco faked gagging and Lucius was about to start a lecture when Narcissa came back. She took a swig of the firewhiskey straight from the bottle. Lucius was glaring at George; but even as intimidating as he tried to be, the three teenagers saw how afraid he was of his wife’s glare.
“You,” she said motioning to George, “out.”
“Mum…” (Y/N) tried to intervene.
“Don’t you dare, (Y/N). Don’t you dare,” her tone was almost murderous.
George kissed (Y/N)’s cheek and walked out, biting his lips to hold in his laughter.
“When I wake up tomorrow my house better be pristine or you are going to be in a lot of trouble. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, mum,” (Y/N) answered, not wanting to meet her gaze.
“You two,” Narcissa motioned her husband and son, “to your rooms. Now.”
“But mum, won’t you punish (Y/N/N)? Look what she did when you were gone!” Draco pressed on, behaving in absolute Draco fashion.
Narcissa drank from the bottle again and Draco’s eyes widened.
“Listen to me, Draco. I am going to say something to you and I’ll only say it once: stop being such a little bitch.”
As soon as she said that, (Y/N) burst out laughing.
“I love you, mum,” she said.
“Don’t push it, (Y/N).”
Tags: @cleopatera @okaydraco @naomi02hook @the-hufflefluffwriter @the--queen-of-hell @honeymarvel @blisfvll @icintliviinyiniilsiji @gloriousrebelrunaway @heistmaster69 @victorialynn7 @inkhearthes @wollymalfoy
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semi-hiatus/hiatus
i need to personally just take a step away from this blog due to things going on irl. it’s just too stressful to really be thinking about being here and writing. because of that, at the very least for 30 days, i’m likely not going to be on at all.
i am on discord if you’d like to keep in contact, but i don’t think i’ll be finding myself on here much. starry night 🌠#3003
an explanation is underneath if you feel curious to know.
i’ve been jobless for three months now, and all my savings has been wiped out due to rent and paying back a loan i pulled specifically for my mother. rent is 1.4k, i owe about 500 a month due to only working part-time when i was working. i owe about 200 a month for my loan on top of that, at my old job that would basically be my entire paycheck and i got paid biweekly.
on top of that, my medications are running out and i don’t have the means to see a doctor, find one, and my mom also cannot find one due to only having half a day of time off that she can afford. i said i was okay with going without them till the beginning of next year because it’s basically just a month because i have at least one more month of birth control and left that’ll be used starting sunday. my anxiety medication, i’m sure is the same, if not i have a little more. regardless, i’m still running out and it’s more of my anxiety medication that i’m concerned about over my birth control because i use it to regulate my periods.
just this morning we were given a notice to owe back about 4k to my old landlord and i am in on that debt despite i wasn’t part of the lease, and we have 30 days to pay it off. again, i am all wiped from my savings, i can’t afford to take from my credit card because i still owe on it, and i cannot take anymore from my bank without it costing me. i already have seen the list and about half of what he’s making us owe is bullshit, but i don’t know if we’d be able to fight with it, and even if we could, we could probably only cut it down half. that’s still 2000$ owed on top of rent and other bills that need to be paid. i don’t even want to deal with the drama that’s going to happen when my mother gets home, because i know she’s pissed, i know she’ll be screaming and mentally i can’t take anymore of the pressure of the environment i’m already living in.
writing just isn’t on my mind right now, talking is barely on my mind right now, but i know i’ll at least talk to people when i can. right now, with no one hiring me between the multiple jobs i’ve applied to and it getting to the holidays, i just feel like i’m slipping. i’m wanting to just stop, invasive thoughts are intruding and i need to stop them as much as i can.
right now, i’m burying myself in trying to create items for purchase, because if work’s not coming to me, i’m going to simply go to it. if anyone’s interested in purchasing some art, or even obtaining a new character to their selection, i have my art blog. i have commissions up and i have a few adopts up for sale. they all go directly to my paypal. i even have a ko-fi, if my prices are too high but you still want to support me. or, even if it’s just a penny at this point, my paypal is open for anything.
i don’t know how long i’ll be gone, but like i said, at the very least it’ll probably be a month. until then, be positive, know i love you.
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So far, this’s been a weird bad week.
On Sunday, I awoke to cinnamon rolls, strawberries, and bagels, which is unusual in our household. We usually have cereal, but I was fine with this change. I love cinnamon rolls. I thought this was gonna be the only oddity of that day, but I was wrong.
Skye said she was gonna stay home during the littles’ visit, so I got hopeful that I could have a heart-to-heart with Mom about the previous week in the car, but she ended up coming with because I was and she didn’t want to be home alone. And then, Kare was with us too, because she didn’t want to go, so we had her with us for two hours. But, oh! Not two hours, but one, because without Kare, Xan only wanted to spend one hour with their dad.
So, instead of maybe stopping at the store or something, and counting off all the reasons I’ve been upset with my mother, we took a drive for an hour with my sisters. For the first time ever, I turned the other way in the car, hoping Mom got the hint that something was up. After a while of silence, she asked Kare how she was doing, as she usually does when it’s been silent for a while, and then asked me the same thing a minute later. I gave a noncommittal hum, not wanting to talk in that moment with almost everyone in the car.
Before picking up Xan, she went through the Starbucks drive-through to get us each something, so I turned the right way to be able to drink my matcha pineapple drink, but I was still not very happy. Refreshers and fraps can’t fix the hole in my heart where love should go.
After getting Xan, we went to Ross for a new outfit or two each because it’s getting hot out here and Mom has stimulus money right now. I usually love shopping, but considering that I was already upset, Mom previously promised an individual “date” day with each of us for this, I didn’t have my glasses or phone that day, and I like to take my time, I wasn’t having a good time. I found cute items that were too small for me, and couldn’t take pics because I didn’t bring my phone, and I was the last one of the family to be perusing the racks. I HATE to be the one everyone’s waiting on.
And then to top it all off, Mom complained in the car that she “spent way too much money.” I already have a nagging guilt in my subconscious soul whenever I’ve been done shopping the last few times, even when spending my own money. I really didn’t need to hear that I’m actually being a burden on someone, either time-wise or financially.
Holy shit, I need to take a minute.
Anyway, we came home, and everyone went straight to trying everything on. Which makes me anxious, because we just got these clothes, and Mom usually wipes things down or washes them before we use them. Wondered for a few if I was being paranoid, before concluding that I’m not and Mom’s just slipping at this game.
Then Mom started talking about chores we need to get done, and that the garage is getting cleaned out today. Now, she’s said this a lot, so I never know when she’s actually gonna get serious, but apparently, she actually meant it.
I like to clean by myself, preferably when everyone’s asleep or gone, because I know damn well I take to long, and I don’t want the ridicule. Big problem with that is the fact that the anxiety from the possible judgement keeps me from actually starting, so I end up never starting and it never gets done. And Mom was is sick of my shit. Many of the boxes and bags of laundry in the garage are mine.
So, as I was sitting in the kitchen trying to enjoy the ice cream Mom said we could all have, I was trying not to panic when Skye was going through the garage for stuff to bring in and go through. Mom mentioned that she was gonna “force inspiration to clean” onto me, and I told her that’s not how that works.”
Luckily, she found a couple bags of toys to go through first, and I sat and watched, trying to relax so I’d stop feeling sick to my stomach. I’m trying not to feel sick as I type this all, but I gotta let my feelings out somewhere.
Eventually, she brought in a bag of my stuff. I looked at a couple items, and determined it was a bag I’d already gone through a few months ago. It was only in the garage again because I hadn’t washed and put it away yet. So far, so good. Another bag, and I was able to throw some things away without any second guessing. Eventually, I didn’t feel so sick anymore, and was in productive mode.
At some point, Skye asked if she should bring in something that wasn’t clothes, and I explained quietly that I’ve had enough mentally. “Please don’t make me switch tasks right now.” I’m so glad, that at age 20, I know I’m autistic, read up on it a ton, and now have the tools I need to communicate what’s going on in my head.
Skye understood, and brought in more clothes. I’m also so glad to have her as a sister. Mom would’ve seen it as making excuses, which is why I tried not to be loud enough for her to hear. I was in a zone, doing what she wanted (and I needed) for once, and I didn’t need her to break it by yelling.
I set aside the things that weren’t mine to go through, and I got it done. Since I still had quite a lot, I decided to go through everything more selectively at another time, on my own time. We’ll see how that goes.
Had dinner, and I didn’t feel like eating as much as I usually do, and said this to Mom. Told her about how the day went nothing like how I’d planned, and she seemed to finally recognise some depression in me, and offered to have that talk I wanted that night or the next day. After dinner, I chilled for a while with the Gravity Falls tag (pretty sure y’all’ve noticed) in the bathroom, because it’s the one private room of the house and I wanted to be alone, and when I came out, everyone was sleeping and Mom was cleaning. She was spraying everything with Febreze, and then vacuumed after a few, and told me to check my slippers to see if they’re dirty before walking on the carpets. I find this a bit absurd, seeing as how Mom is the one who gets the floors dirty with her shoes (FR, she’s the only one of us that leaves visible shoe prints inside), and I wear slippers specifically so I don’t have to keep washing my feet all the damn time. But not wanting an argument, I complied, and took off my slippers to sit at the desk with the laptop.
The plan was to finally catch up on my school work, but after Mom got on me about the dog being neglected, I simply didn’t have the spoons, and looked up pics of Ford’s futuristic gun. Eventually started reading Gravity Falls: Lost Legends on the purple game phone. Not very productive, I know, but I knew I didn’t have actual class the next day, and I’m normally very responsible with the dog. I’ve only been neglecting her as a bit of a social experiment to see if anybody would notice that the one person who cares for her hasn’t been. Don’t worry, I gave her food and water after a while, but I left the red blanket covered in Kare’s piss over the crate, because if Mom thinks she knows best and wants to put a dirty-ass blanket over the crate, who am I to remove it?
Fucking bitch.
Anyway, after she went to sleep, the living room felt like the Twilight Zone. It had the vibe of being freshly steam-cleaned, despite not being cleaned at all, I felt like I couldn’t lay down anywhere because dirty laundry had touched my leg earlier and I didn’t feel like showering yet, and everyone was asleep but me. Two or three lights were on but I shut them off to help calm my mind a bit. Worked a bit, and I continued reading until the next morning. I heard Mom’s alarm for Xan’s school day start going off, and not wanting to interact with her, I laid down to sleep, letting fate decide if she gets up on time or not. Skye says she didn’t, and Xan ended up not going to school. Oh well. Not my problem.
Oy, she would think I’m such a selfish bitch if she read that, but I honestly don’t care. I half hope she stumbles across this blog just so she finally knows what I’m thinking all the damn time. Stars know that we never did have that talk. In fact, when I made a comment before she went to sleep on Sunday that I’m aweful at this whole “being a human thing,” she accused me of just trying to get sympathy, and “stop the whole ‘woe is me’ bullshit.”
Oy, so I’m amazing, I guess? What do you want me to say? Nothing?? I mean, I guess that’s correct. I would finally stop bugging her with my too-loud voice. I try to moderate my volume, I really do, but sometimes I forget, or I’m being louder than I think I am.
Yesterday, I slept a lot of the day, woke up to take an exam, and came out of my room to find all but one piece of the pineapple Mom got gone. Not only did everyone save me only a single cube, it was so sweet and good, and I’m not sure I did so well on my exam. Mom said the littles’ scarfed it all down in minutes, and that it wasn’t even that good because the enzymes burned their tongues, but I don’t feel bad for them. They wouldn’t have gotten burned so bad if they had saved some for Skye and I. She was still sleeping at the time. I also spotted the only pineapple juice in Kare’s Starbucks cup from the day before, but when I took a sip (because she often wastes food, she won’t miss it), I discovered it was watered down. Ugh.
That night, last night, as I stayed up late reading fan-made Gravity Falls comics, I tried to stay as silent as possible. My laughter is often loud, and I was finally having a good time. I didn’t need Mom waking up to scold me with the whole “I work graveyard, and I just got vaccinated! Why can’t I ever sleep?!”
I think I did a pretty great job of staying quiet for once, but at some point, she called my name, which startled me a bit. I went to her room to see what was up, but after I called back and got no response, I determined that she just called my name in her sleep. Whew.
And now, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, typing away, still being silent. I’ll have a good time with Skye when Mom’s not around. Mom doesn’t deserve to hear my laughter anymore if she doesn’t want it so bad. She was watching late-night comedy when I was typing the first part of this post, but at some point, she got up, and I quickly-but-casually switched tabs to the music I was listening to to read the comments until she left from behind me again. I do want to talk about all of this with her eventually, but I really don’t tonight, and she sometimes reads over my shoulder if it’s easy for her to do so.
I hope she’s getting ready for work right now, and she won’t be able to get an Early Out. I’d love for the anxiety of her randomly crashing my vibes to be gone. Maybe (but probably not) I’ll clean, maybe I’ll read some more in the dark. Don’t know yet.
#hopes and dreams crash and burn#you may hope there's a phoenix somewhere#but there's likely not#they're dead#Raine's daize#I wonder how many of y'all can relate to any of this#anxiety#autism
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Unbelievable
Pairing: Seth Levine x MC (Jessica Parker)
Book: Red Carpet Diaries (around Chapter 11 of Book 2)
Word Count: ~2900
Rating: PG-13 (language, innuendo)
Summary: Watching football for the first time with Jessica during the playoffs is an interesting experience for Seth
Author’s Note: As some of you may know, I don’t really self-insert with my MCs, but I usually share one or two traits with them. Well, Jessica Parker and I share a love of football passed down from our fathers. Since she comes from Iowa, and they don’t have a NFL team there, she had three real options for her team pulling from the surrounding area - the Green Bay Packers, the Chicago Bears, and the Minnesota Vikings. Naturally, I selected my own love, the Vikings, for her.
This is written for my Choices Big Game Blitz event. It doesn’t feature the Superbowl, but it does feature one of the more exciting playoff games in recent history.
Seth had known Jessica was a Minnesota Vikings fan, at least in theory. On Sundays this fall, he’d seen her in a Vikings t-shirt or an Adrian Peterson jersey. But he’d never watched a game with her, at least until today.
Truth be told, he never really cared about football. Maybe it was a side effect of growing up just outside of Cincinnati and therefore having to root for the Bengals, but Caleb was a pretty avid OSU fan, so there went that theory. At the end of the day, sports weren’t really Seth’s thing. With what he knew about Jessica, he’d assumed they weren’t really hers either.
But it turned out, football was very much Jessica’s thing. He had thought it was a little strange when she said she couldn’t go to the movies with him because of the playoffs. Seth had wanted to actually go out together, now that her faux-mance with Chadley was over and she wouldn’t get chewed out if they were spotted together too often. Jessica instead invited him over to her new penthouse to watch the game. Seth had figured the game would kind of be on in the background while they talked, or maybe even fooled around a bit. That theory went out the window when she didn’t even get off the couch to great him, just threw up a hand in a vague wave as she kept her eyes glued on her television.
“You missed kickoff. The Saints went three and out, but it’s still the Vike’s opening drive,” she said, barely acknowledging him when he kissed her on the cheek as he sat next to her on the couch. From that point on, Seth wasn’t even sure that she remembered he was there half the time. Basically anything she said was directed at the people on the TV, whether it be the coaches, the players, or the announcers, all of whom she referred to by name, like they were her close personal friends or her mortal enemies. It didn’t take long for Seth to learn that Mike Zimmer was a genius, Sean Payton was a smug asshole, and Joe Buck and Troy Aikmen were just the worst. It was only during the commercials that she would chat with him, but she mainly seemed to want to discuss the most recent plays, and as soon as the game was back on, her head snapped back to the TV, her attention completely focused on her favorite team.
Seth understood the basics of the game, run versus pass, how downs worked, turnovers, most of the penalties, that sort of thing, but after the first couple of drives, it was clear that he had almost nothing he could add to the conversation. Jessica was naming both offensive and defensive schemes, talking about things like “the slant” or a “double A gap” like those words were supposed to mean something to Seth. Meanwhile, the only player on the field he had heard of before today was Drew Brees, and he certainly wasn’t going to try to talk to her about the man she had just referred to as a “little punk ass ponzi scheme shill.” And that description was polite compared to the way she talked about the Saints coach, dropping more swear words in one description of him than he had heard her say the entire rest of the time he’d known her. So instead of saying something that would put him in the hot seat, he just watched along with her, going to grab them new beers or some more snacks from her kitchen every so often.
If was kind of fun, seeing this completely different side of her. She was loud, energized, and vibrant. Normally he was the one who would geek out about things, whether it be old-school B-movies, obscure video games, or TV shows with a niche cult following. But after the first quarter, it was clear that Jessica was a football nerd. The only thing he’d ever seen her close to this passionate about before was film, and that was her line of work. She was yelling at the Saints players whenever they committed penalties and dancing when the Vikings scored, and even Seth found himself cheering and exchanging high fives with her, her energy infectious. He quickly learned to keep his beer in his right hand, far away from Jessica, after she nearly knocked it to the ground when she went wild after one of the Vikings players picked off Brees.
She was in a great mood going into halftime. The Vikings were up 17 to 0 and their defense, which Jessica seemed to love way more than the offense, had two interceptions and a couple of sacks already. But after halftime, Seth felt the energy in the room start to shift. The Vikings offense stalled, the Saints scored a touchdown, and then Case Keenum, the Vikings’ quarterback threw a bad interception. Jessica’s good mood was quickly evaporating with the Viking’s lead. By the start of the fourth quarter, she was twisting her hands around each other in her lap and chewing on her lip.
“Damn it,” she muttered, when one of the Viking’s players got pulled for an injury evaluation in that goofy looking blue tent on the sideline. “Not Rhodes. Shit.” Seth was going to ask her why losing that particular player was such a bad thing, but then the Saints scored again, bringing the score to 14-17, and Jessica let off a string of curses, rubbing her hands over her face.
“Hey, they still have the lead,” said Seth, placing a hand on her back, trying to be reassuring, but Jessica just shook her head, rolling her shoulders slightly. She clearly didn’t want him touching her right now.
“You don’t understand. The Vikings always choke. Always. They are gonna piss this away. We have a chance at a home Superbowl, and we’re gonna choke away a three score lead at home.”
Jessica’s prediction turned out to be right. The Vikings added a field goal, but then the Saints blocked a punt, something Seth didn’t even know a team could do, and turned that good field position into another touchdown. The Saints had the lead by one, and he thought Jessica was going to lose her mind. Her hands kept clutching at her cheeks and temples between plays, fingers twining together during the action. All the fun and joy of the first half was gone, replaced by pure anxiety and frustration. It was uncomfortable even sitting next to her. Seth wanted to tell her that it was just a game, but he was pretty sure that would get him kicked out of her apartment, if not straight up dumped on the spot, so he kept his mouth shut, praying that the Vikings might still pull off the win. He didn’t know how bad Jessica would be after a loss, but he was pretty sure it would ruin their entire night.
Just when Seth thought it couldn’t get worse, the one announcer said, “I know Vikings fans don’t wanna see this, and they’ll blame me,” before showing a highlight package of Vikings missed field goal attempts from playoff games in years past.
“And those are just the kicks,” added the other announcer, “I mean, they’ve had some other devastating losses over the years in other ways.”
“Oh just rub it in, you fuckers. Fucking Joe Buck and Troy Aikmen,” she growled. Before Seth could think of anything to say to her that would have any chance of calming her down, one of the wide receivers for the Vikings, Seth thought it might be Adam Thielen, made an impressive catch, and Jessica swung from annoyed anger to pure joy in a nanosecond, jumping off the couch and letting out a massive cheer. She stayed on her feet for the rest of the drive, holding her breath as she watched the Vikings kicker make a pretty long field goal to take a two point lead.
Seth thought Jessica would be overjoyed that her team was back on top, but she seemed stressed as ever when she sat back down.
“Uhh, not to bother you, but shouldn’t you be happier that your team has the lead?” Seth asked during the commercial break.
Jessica shook her head, “There’s too much time left on the clock and all they have to do is get to the 35 yard line or so. A field goal wins it.”
“But the announcers keep talking about how the Vikings are the best defense in the league.”
“Not this half, they aren’t.”
All Seth could do was sit there and watch as Jessica became more and more agitated as her prediction proved eerily accurate. When the Saints kicker drilled a field goal through with 25 seconds left on the clock, he dropped his hand to her knee.
“I knew it, I just knew it,” she moaned, dropping her face into her hands. “It’s over. One and done again.”
Seth knew better than to point out there was still time left on the clock. Even he knew that 25 seconds was not a lot of time to score.
The drive was off to a bad start when the Vikings got a penalty right away, but then they picked up about 20 yards on one play. Before Seth could even mention that maybe her team had a chance, Jessica was talking.
“Fuck, over the center of the field. Damn it, now we don’t have a time out left for the field goal even if we can manage to get into range. The Saints are just gonna cover the damn sidelines.”
The next play was an incomplete pass that left 14 seconds on the clock. As the Saints called a timeout, Seth’s mind started racing, trying to come up with the right thing to say when that clock ticked down to zero.
“Offer to get drunk with her. Or curse out the Saints and call them cheaters, she seems to do that often. No, just hug her. Don’t say anything. There’s not going to be anything she wants to hear from you.”
“And now ten seconds remain,” called out the announcer after another incomplete pass, “in what could be a heartbreaking loss for the Vikings, and a thrilling come-from-behind win from the Saints. Winner goes to Philly.”
Seth could tell Jessica’s heart was racing. As much as she claimed this was over, he knew part of her was still hoping for a miracle. Hell, even he felt nervous, and prior to today, he didn’t think he’d ever even seen a Vikings game. As the Vikings lined up and snapped the ball, he braced himself for the next play or two which would inevitably seal this as a loss. Case Keenum launched the ball into the air.
“Keenum steps into it,” said the announcer, “pass is CAUGHT! DIGGS! SIDELINE! TOUCHDOWN! UNBELIEVABLE! VIKINGS WIN IT!”
Seth watched in awe as a Vikings player not only came down with the ball, but somehow wasn’t tackled by any Saints player. Instead, he sprinted down the sideline and into the endzone as the clock hit zero, throwing his helmet off and holding his arms out in celebration to the crowd. It’s how he would have written the ending in a sports movie, but it was happening in real life.
Jessica had somehow vaulted over her coffee table and was shrieking almost inhuman noises as she fell to her knees in front of her television. Seth, meanwhile felt glued to his spot on the couch, his jaw hung open in absolute shock as he watched the stadium turn to absolute pandemonium on the screen, fans going wild, players running all over the field, and the player who made that spectacular catch, Stefon Diggs, being completely mobbed in the endzone. He was pretty sure Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy was playing at the stadium, but it was hard to make out between the cheers from the television and the insane shrieks coming from Jessica.
A loud buzzing noise attracted Seth’s attention. He glanced down and saw Jessica’s phone, lit up with “Dad” glowing across the screen.
“Jessica?” he said, standing up and holding out her phone, “It’s your dad.”
Jessica climbed across her coffee table, knocking over a bowl a tortilla chips in the process, grabbing her phone with one hand and flinging herself at Seth with the other, nearly tackling him to the couch with her enthusiasm. She clung to him as she swiped to answer her phone, her hand visibly shaking.
“Ahh, Dad!” she screamed into her phone, nearly painful for Seth as she was dangerously close to his ear, “I know!... I KNOW!... I thought so, too!... YES!...Yeah, I know!...Skol!”
As she began to recount the game with her dad, she unglued herself from Seth, sitting on the floor in front of her TV and watching the chaos and excitement unfold at the stadium. Seth couldn’t help it, the whole thing was so surreal that he just started laughing lightly. Things like this just didn’t happen outside of movies. Figuring that Jessica was going to be caught up in this excitement for a while, Seth grabbed the trash can from the kitchen and started cleaning up the mess of chips that Jessica had knocked everywhere.
He had just about cleaned up all the scattered chips when he heard Jessica say “Oh, wow,” before she went silent. Seth glanced up he saw Case Keenum, a hero of a quarterback now, leading the entire stadium in the Vikings’ “Skol” chant. He sank onto the couch, watching in awe as the camera pulled back. He got chills, and it wasn’t even his team.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll let you go, Dad.... Yeah, I love you, too.” Jessica said before setting down her phone and joining Seth on the couch, curling her legs up underneath her body. “Can you believe it?” she asked, shaking his shoulder lightly.
“No,” he replied with a chuckle, “Why did they have another play there?” he asked, gesturing to the TV. After the cheer, Keenum had lined up and taken one more snap before kneeling down. Seth would have thought the game was over with the insane touchdown.
“They still had to either attempt an extra point or and two-point conversion after the touchdown,” she explained, “Diggs scored at the end of regulation, so it wasn’t sudden death or anything.”
“Why didn’t they just kick the extra point? Why kneel it?”
“Don’t want to risk a blocked kick that the Saints could try and run back or any injuries.”
“Interesting,” he said, nodding slightly. It was a lot more enjoyable watching the game with someone who would actually explain the little details to him
“Thanks for cleaning up, by the way,” she said, gesturing to the coffee table.
“Of course, Iowa.”
“So, I’m gonna need you here next Sunday evening. You are clearly some sort of good luck charm.”
“Oh, I see how it is. All I am is some human prop your football team,” Seth said dramatically, flinging his head back against the top of her couch in mock indignation.
Jessica grinned down at him, “Why else would I want you around? Seriously, though. You should come over next week.”
“Sure, why not? I managed to survive this game with you; I can probably handle another.”
“Oh no,” said Jessica, drawing her hand to her mouth, “Was I really that bad?”
Seth laughed, “Come on, you have to know what you’re like when you watch football.”
“I don’t know, I always watched with my dad growing up. I didn’t think we were too crazy.”
He just continued to chuckle, watching Jessica clearly attempt to remember her actions over the past three hours, “Let’s just say that I’m pretty sure this afternoon was the equivalent of about 32 major life events. There was joy, despair, worry, frustration, anger, excitement-” he listed, holding up his fingers as he started counting off emotions in jest, but Jessica cut him off with a kiss.
“I’m sorry I was so nutty,” she said as she pulled away.
“Nah. It’s fine, Iowa. Like I said, it was like going through a bunch of life’s ups and downs all back to back. It’s kind of nice getting a little preview of what the hell I’m apparently getting myself into.”
Jessica swatted him playfully, swinging her leg over his lap and straddling him. “There was one emotion I notice you didn’t list,” she said into his ear, grinding down against him.
“Seriously? Football turns you on?”
“No, the Vikings winning turns me on,” she replied, working her lips across his jaw, “Come on, Seth. Don’t you want to celebrate with me?”
Groaning, Seth turned his head, capturing Jessica’s lips in a heated kiss, sliding his hands under her jersey and tugging it over her head. “I think I can definitely get on board with this whole football thing,” he said between kisses. Jessica laughed, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he stood up and made his way toward her bedroom, ready to start their own private victory celebration.
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Limp-wrist Section:
(Please read with a camp accent, stressing every second word)
New Musical Express
27 September 1975
Julie Webb
Forget those ‘Queen split’ stories - everything is just lovely. Elton is lovely as well. Freddie Mercury tells it like it is. By Julie Webb
It’s easy to understand how “Queen to split” rumours get under way. The band’s expected large summer gig never happened and the non-appearance of either an album or a single kept the silence at deafening point.
From America we heard that Brian May was offered a job with Sparks and in England there were stories to the effect that the band’s management situation was none too amicable. And throughout all this time the band remained stumm, giving no interviews and neither confirming or denying anything. Even a promised visit to see the band at Rockfield Studios was “put off” at the last moment. Is all well in Mercury’s trousers?
Still, all is now resolved. Queen now have a new manager, and their biggest headache in How The Hell Are They Going To Finish The New Album in time for November release. They are also planning a major British tour for late November and a single for October, so it’s time to zip up and get going.
It was three dishevelled members of Queen who were finally brought to bay at the studios in London. John Deacon was absent since they were adding vocals and I was informed he doesn’t participate overly on that side of things. Two members of Hustler - a quite different group - were sitting in the control room aghast at the meticulous way the band record.
If they sand “no no no” once, they sang it twenty times in the space of about ten minutes. And on each occasion someone would find fault. It must get exceedingly tedious.
The track in question is a Mercury composition “Bohemian Rhapsody” very much an operatic opus, taxing the vocal cords to the hilt. On playback it sounds truly magnificent, undeniably Queen yet with greater depth than on any previous efforts.
Mercury is bouncing about saying “Hello dear” to new arrivals. Brian May still looks fragile and Roger Taylor sits down rather wearily. They are scheduled to carry on recording till two a.m.
Mercury seems like he’s itching to talk and, yes, there’s plenty to ask. Like what happened with the old management, Freddie?
He takes a deep breath.
“As far as Queen are concerned they are deceased. They cease to exist in any capacity with us whatsoever. One leaves them behind like one leaves excretia. We feel so relieved.”
It appears to be an almost rehearsed answer. I plod on. How did the change of management come about - why change?
“We felt there came a time when we had got far too big for them to handle. We needed bigger handling. We needed a change. But I don’t want to delve into trivia…”
And on so to John Reid, new manager, also manager of Elton John.
“Actually we were approached by - and we ourselves approached - a series of top class managers to make sure we made the right choice. John Reid happened to be the choice because he flashed his eyes at me and I said ‘Why not’,” Mercury laughs.
“He’s great, actually, I thought he could do with another piano player so we could play duets all night. I said ‘What’s better than one piano player? - two piano players. In a way it’s just what we wanted and the combination is going to be startling. It’s the sort of combination we’ve wanted for years. The whole situation of record deals and his whole method of work, his whole approach is so right.
“He came in to negotiate the whole structure of recording, publishing and management.”
Mercury was present at the recent much-publicised John Reid birthday party last week (“we’re both Virgos you know”). This he pronounced “lovely”.
“I met his ‘other client’. He said ‘You must meet my other client, my other client wants to meet you.’ Elton John was wonderful - one of those people you can instantly get on with. He said he liked ‘Killer Queen’ and anyone who says that goes in my white book - my black book is bursting at the seams.”
The subject switched to the new album. Apart from the aforementioned “Bohemian Rhapsody” what other tracks are there?
“Well the album is called ‘A Night At The Opera’. We’ve finished all the backing tracks and it’s beginning to sound better than we expected.
“With ‘Rhapsody’ we’ve squeezed to our limitations for four octaves and not slowed down the tape! John Deacon had written a lovely little ditty called ‘You’re My Best Friend’ and Roger has written ‘I’m In Love With My Car’ including lines like ‘I’ve got a feel for my automobile’.
“Brian has an outrageous mammoth epic track ‘The Prophet’s Song’ which is one of our heaviest numbers to date. He’s got his guitar extravaganza on it. You see, Brian has acquired a new guitar specially built so he can almost make it speak. It will talk on this track.
“Then there’s ‘Good Company’ written by Brian, a George Formby track with saxophones, trombone and clarinet sounds from his guitar. We don’t believe in having any session men, we do everything ourselves, from the high falsetto to the low bassy farts it is all us.
“Another track is ‘’39’ a little spacey number by Brian, a skiffle style of number which we’ve never tried before and the albume ends with something totally unexpected, a little virtuoso track by Brian. There’s also ‘Sweet Lady’ a heavyish ditty in stupendous ¾.”
Apart from ‘Rhapsody’, Mercury himself has penned four tracks, “one is called ‘Death On Two Legs’ I’m not going to say anymore - just listen to the words carefully kiddies. A nasty little number which brings out my evil streak. The words came very easy to me.
“There’s also a lovely little ballad, my classical influence comes into it, Brian is going to attempt to use harp, real life-size harp. I’m going to force him to play till his fingers drop off. It’s called ‘Love Of My Life’.
“‘Seaside Rendezvous’ has a 1920’s feel to it and Roger does a tuba and clarinet on it vocally, if you see what I mean. I’m going to make him tap dance too, I’ll have to buy him some Ginger Rogers tap shoes.
“‘Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon’ (not the Kinks’ or the Small Faces’) is a short track, just one minute six seconds. A very perky spicey number dear. Brian likes that one.”
Summing up, Mercury says “There were a lot of things we wanted to do on ‘Queen II’ and ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ but there wasn’t space enough. This time there is. Guitarwise and on vocals we’ve done things we’ve never done before.”
In order to finish the album on time Mercury says they will “work till we are legless. I’ll sing until my throat is like a vulture’s crotch. We haven’t even reached the halfway stage yet but from the things I can hear we have surpassed anything we’ve done before musically.”
All right. Now to the other stuff.
Is it true about Brian being offered a gig with Sparks? Was there any serious thought of splitting up the band? Own up…
Mercury is contemptuous of the whole thing.
“About nine months ago Brian was approached by Sparks who said they would like him to join them as guitarist. But we all treat that sort of thing as everyday and mundane. We’re so involved in what we do - anyway we’ve all had offers to join other bands. We don’t give it a second thought.
“But while, say, Roger and I would tell them to piss off Brian takes his time about being nice to people so sometimes they get the wrong idea. Brian is really too much of a gentleman which I am not - I am an old tart - but not for one moment did he consider leaving us.
“But that was nine months ago, so long ago that that rumour went out with the Boer War. Still it’s very flattering to get offers.”
The November British tour, however should dispel any split rumours forever. Preparations are already being made for that.
“I’m thinking of being carried on stage by Nubian slaves and being fanned by them - in fact I’m auditioning for them now. I shall personally select the winners. But where to find a slave?
“I’m also looking for a masseur. The other one is no longer with us.
What happened to him? “His fingers dropped off.”
Trouble with Freddie, he’s always concerned with his health. Still there are reasons.
On the last American tour a couple of gigs were cancelled due to throat problems.
“My nodules are still with me. I have these uncouth callouses growing in my interior (throat). From time to time they harm my vocal dexterity. At the moment however” (he allows himself a smile) “I am winning/”
How can he ensure the problem won’t recur?
“I’m going to go easy on the red wine dear. And the tour will be planned around my nodules. Actually I came very near to having an operation but I didn’t like the look of the doctor and I was a bit perturbed about having strange instruments forced down my throat.”
After the British tour the band go once again to America and thence on to Japan. Japan hold fond memories for Mercury.
With a faraway look in his eye he say “I will be able to be reunited with my bodyguard. I must stress we all had one each - our own personal bodyguards that is. Mine was called Hitami and was the head of the Tokyo bodyguard patrol. His entire job was to pamper and cossett me throughout the tour and make sure no harm was to come to my person. He was very sweet, he gave me this lovely Japanese lantern which I treasure.”
Is there any likelihood Queen may do some American gigs with Elton John?
“Well funny you should say that. We had an offer to do two gigs in L.A. but we were far too busy so we couldn’t do them. But although we’re all the same family Reidy won’t put us out as a package. He knows the difference in the audiences we appeal to. He wants us to be a force of our own in America to maintain what we have, and to do everything bigger and better.”
Mercury is not quite sure if Seattle is on their American itinerary. He remembers a young lady from that part of the world quite vividly.
“A young American tart” he starts getting very angry at the memory of it all, “came in and pilfered my contents … my jewels, bracelets etc and she was just evacuating the room when I accosted her by the elevator.
“I pulled her by the hair, dragged her into the room, emptied the contents of her bag in the room and everything but the kitchen sink came out. I retrieved my things, and said ‘get out, you Seattle shagbag.’
Why hadn’t there been any recorded material from Queen for so long? (Yeah, I know that was an abrupt change of subject).
“Actually that was the way we planned it dear, but we should have a single taken from this album out in October. The album comes out in November when we start our world tour. We’re planning on a much broader scale than before dear.”
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meandering diary post, or the melancholic tale of my 24-hour completely onesided romance in the context of the human condition
[[MORE]]
i've been a member of a student organisation for queer people for about half a year now. this means that i hadn't attended an introductory period yet — once an academic year, at the start of it — but that i knew basically everyone who organised it.
after a few days of miscellaneous activities that were mostly 'okay' (minus a drunk fall of my bike at some point) i knew a couple more people. still, it was nothing like the summer camp at the end of it.
the first 90% of the journey was by train. i shared four seats facing each other with three other people, including a girl who was slightly taller and a bit older than me. she had brought a wine bottle and so it happened that the four of us already started drinking at about 15, not even at the camp yet.
we got along though— especially this girl and i. we talked a bunch about the kinds of exercise/sports we like. she was my second round that day in explaining the rules of roller derby, i can do it in about 20 seconds now with the help of the images from the 'basics' section of this article: http://mtlrollerderby.com/the-rules-of-roller-derby/?lang=en w
e also talked about gender a bit. it went all right. we had a later conversation in our bunk that day where we really bonded, about trauma too and all that stuff.
"we have a bond, i think."
that was later though, for now i was still on my way. at some point i turned inwards as i sometimes do and during one of the transfers while outside she pulled me away and asked me if i was all right. i explained that i just have a few issues and that sometimes they played up. she gave me the big scarf she was wearing and told me to put it over my head and narrow my field of vision that way, just kind of hide in it. that that's what she does when she's not well. that was nice of her.
we missed the train-bus connection because we went to the supermarket of the small remote village to buy more wine, but we got picked up by a second bus a bit later.
once at the place i changed into a sexier outfit and instantly felt more confident. this was immediately crushed once people started making (completely benign) jokes about std tests. i started thinking about my own test and the rape that happened before it and just went sit somewhere with a beer bottle to be sad. one of the people who i knew was an organiser but didn't personally know asked me if i was all right and i stood up and tried to ask if we could go outside for a bit, but didn't manage to speak because i was already crying. fortunately he understood the cue. i told him about that i got triggered and he made sure to make it clear to me that the committee would do its best to look after me if i allowed him to tell that sometimes i get like this, with them not having to know what exactly. i took him up on the offer, and it helped that subsequently an organiser would occasionally come to me when i lost my vibe, which was quite often.
but in that moment just knowing people actually take it seriously was enough, and i told him that the best thing now would probably just be to rejoin the party and chug my beer, and so we returned inside and so i did.
a while later i lost a good portion of my energy again. in a fateful moment, i decided to go back to my room which i shared with others. my new friend was talking about speed with another girl, who ended up giving it to us.
"i'm done with this crap. you can have it if you want to."
i don't have the required associations to procure anything like this myself, so i thought i'd not pass up on the opportunity.
the four of us went back downstairs.
first i was cold, tired, and dull. now i possessed immense warmth, energy, and clarity, almost immediately.
i asked my friend if this is about what i should be feeling. she told me it was, but also immediately switched to her more caring tone and that i should be careful.
"if you ever want to try something, you can always do it at my place."
sounds like a fucked up bid to get me in a vulnerable situation, but given the context and her general conduct i am certain she really was just caring about me in a slightly dark way.
there were drinking games that we played in teams, in most of them chugging alcohol fast combined with skills of physical dexterity was determinant. in my current state, i was absurdly good at both on top of my usual degree of mastery and won us the tournament. it was nice to get cheered on lots— it was cool to be in a parallel dimension where suddenly the skills i had were brought up a number of times in the days after.
i had a great night. i hadn't been (that) happy in months. every moment my body was bursting with energy. i love dancing, and i especially love dancing when weird fellow mental cases who have taken it upon themselves for reasons i don't understand grasp both my hands, pull me in, and keep me very close to them. later we sat on a couch and i leaned against her and it was very nice. every time i asked her if she was uncomfortable she pet my head for a bit, so obviously i was instantly in love.
alcohol disables your mental safeguards and this can backfire. cigarettes just make you slow. speed simply solved every problem instantly.
we danced until 0400. after that we were offered a joint by someone and we passed that around in a circle so we could sleep better. it worked very well, but by the time we went to bed, it was simply almost time to get up, and they don't fuck around with schedule at student camps.
i woke up in agony because the day before i went on camp i had a really intense derby training, and when i dance, i really love to bring my hips into it. everything between my waist and knees was searing, burning, i had to stretch and massage until i took the edge off enough that i could convince myself that i wasn't injured. the night before i hadn't felt anything at all. obviously i was also more hungover than ever before, but like, whatever. because i value a varied diet and a rigorous exercise routine, i decided to take it easy from thereon, only start drinking in the evening, et cetera. i was already going to skip sunday training for this, and additionally there are a few resistance training goals that i want to meet in the near future.
these three felt otherwise. they would go on to drink all day. it was very difficult to talk to any of them, although they seemed to be having fun though. i was kind of bothered that i couldn't talk to this girl meaningfully at all anymore at some point, so during that day and the last day of camp i kind of stopped feeling something for her entirely, which was very odd, completely unlike how it usually goes for me.
we played some games, including a quiz. my team won the quiz, but not the other game.
that night most of my acquaintances were absent for the first part. the sweet autistic metalhead i met earlier had gone to her one-person bedroom to decompress, the three from the start were apparently on a walk that i couldn't safely participate in, the others were fuck knows where. i was in a really, really bad mood. i knew that speed would solve all my problems, allow me to join the dance party going on. instead i wasted away on a couch for a while.
then there was dinner, and then an awards show. two games won (the beer game counted) meant i was called in front twice and won a shot of hard liquor as a price, thus twice in a row. very convenient for my fealty to fitness, but at least nice.
afterwards, a number of friends were periodically back on the dance floor in shifts, and the shots were doing their job. the nice thing about shots is that they mean you don't constantly have to piss as with beer, so they made a nice base for the rest of my consumption that night.
i found my new favorite pop song dancing with the girl who i have a particular unbreakable fealty to— that resultant from me breaking down in her arms about a girl not liking me back earlier that year lol
that girl would eventually do some things to me that would present one of the main causes of me at times completely turning inwards and become unable to talk to people, simply looking on and knowing my humanity has been taken away from me by many people.
but right there, dancing, knowing i was surrounded by people who care about me even if i am nothing like then, i was doing just fine, despite having quietly had a mental breakdown on that couch where everything at once played up.
eventually the music selection turned to shit and i decided to do the smart thing and have six hours of sleep instead of two. some sweet angels made sure to coax me into drinking lots of water.
"you'll be grateful in the morning."
a decent night, minus the transmisogynist components of some sketch one of the members of the previous committee did. i'll talk to her about it soon and i'm confident she'll understand how it was hurtful— i had a drunk conversation with two other girls in the restroom about it and they were fully behind me and encouraged me to do this.
the next morning almost everyone was still drinking, despite the fact that most of the day we would just spend in a bus bringing us back from the middle of nowhere.
at some point i sat down on a couch and for the first time in days, took out my ear buds and listened to some music i like.
it was cathartic and i had a particular kind of realisation.
i had spent an entire alcohol getting fucked up to music i could only tolerate there and then, under bright lights and with accompanying alcohol. drinking the kind of alcohol i don't like drinking because it's what was available, hanging out mostly with people with whom i have very little in common. in general, kind of losing myself.
i knew what i needed to do, what i can do soon. all i need to do is get out of this house to a better place, get my painting station set up, keep being involved in the roller derby, and maybe somewhere along the lines i would figure stuff out for myself.
of course, there are certain social circumstances that need to happen to me too, but i certainly can't do that while inert.
i had skipped the derby's general member's meeting on friday. it was the only one of the year, and i really wanted to attend. they were discussing attendance policies, and i feel i could've really learned a lot about the members of the league from that. debates about derby as its own reward and assuming the inherent joy of cooperation versus a dedication to structured sustained development and competitivity, or any of the ways one could frame that.
i had missed a training, when i had immediate short-term goals that i could have fulfilled that training.
the other rookies like me, and so does the trainer. not because of my ability to chug alcohol really fast — although i intend to impress them at the party we apparently have soon — but because of my dedictation, fervor, and general attitude.
maybe there is a common source to the fact that i can dance better than i can talk and that i feel i'm more meaningfully together with people when i'm on wheels than when i'm not, generally speaking at least.
it feels like there's a rift between me and the rest of humanity, but a little less on the track than most other places.
but then speed also helps.
it helps everything. it makes me feel happy.
but i know i can't actually take this as often as i would need without fucking myself up. still, on our way back, alienated and exhausted, i was constantly craving it.
when we got out of the bus and a people hugged me goodbye, i did meditate for a bit on the fact that i did create many new bonds. maybe i'll get more out of them than i felt by the last day, but it's complicated.
and now i'm at friends who fed me and gave me weed to finally fucking calm down. it's all right.
i miss my friends in london who i feel separated from only by distance.
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like none is watching
summary: sunday mornings were chill, almost everyone waking up late in their rest day. A couple meet downstairs at the kitchen and, in between dancing and laughing, they remember what they used to be.
words: 3, 766
N/A: The fic take places around October, the morning of the day in which the doctor tells Delia she can’t have babies.
Cordelia and Raleigh are 33, the same age, so y’all keep it in mind!
I always like to talk about them in the after-Supreme/Apocalypse setting, but writing them as just their normal setting is my jam.
Also I made this gif just out of spite bc I didn’t find any of pre-Supreme!Cordelia and I’m pissed. Once I figure out how to gif properly is over for you.
And to end this long note, > here < is the song they listen to!
Autumn always made her feel at peace, Raleigh thought while setting the kettle in the stove, with its auburn colours and the light breeze and how everyone started to get ready for Halloween. She muffled a chuckle against her hand, finding funny how despite everything she still liked the festivity.
That was a good sign for her; a sign that she was getting used to be sober from her power.
None seem to be awake that early, not that she expected it since it was sunday and meant Cordelia let her few girls rest, and it made her feel better. She didn't want those girls to see her like that, to notice she was the weak link among them and let them see they could win the upper hand? No way.
Raleigh already had to live among bitches in her Academy days, she wasn't going back to that.
Since she came back to the Academy a couple of weeks ago, all she wanted to was make up for the time lost and recover fully. As days went by the hope of getting there was starting to grow slowly, her own hard work showing only for Cordelia to see.
Drawing her thumb over her mug, Raleigh thought her best achievement so far was making Cordelia smile again.
Not only the kettle made her stop wandering around her thoughts, but also someone walking in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” sleepy voice and all, Raleigh couldn’t help but smile softly at the sound of her best girl. “Are you getting coffee or tea?”
“Do you want me to be awake for another day?” Raleigh let out a chuckle and soon her friend was by her side, mug in hand. "Give it to me, sleepy head, I'll fill it for you."
Cordelia giggled sleepy at that, thanking softly when the mug full of warm tea was in her hands again. She waited for Raleigh to fill hers and took both to the kitchen's round table where both settled by each other side. It was like they were still young, sitting close while drinking tea in a comfortable silence. Raleigh felt how her bits of magic were pulling ever so softly at her friend's magic, having missed that sweet feeling for too long. Cordelia smiled in peace and put her free hand over Raleigh's, intertwining their fingers as if it was there where they belong.
"You're tickling me," seeing Cordelia's features that relaxed sent a wave of warmth all over her. "You always did that."
"You always were stressed," Raleigh concluded, bringing Cordelia's hand to her lips and kissing her knuckles. "And I loved to see you smile, what more could I do Deli?"
“Took me to the greenhouse in the wee hours, put on one of your mixtapes in miss Reverie’s old radio,” Cordelia’s thumb caressed Raleigh’s hand, leaning a bit as if she was going to tell the other woman a secret. “And dancing to it, until I ended up telling you what was worrying me.”
“Did I do that? I don’t remember it like that,” Raleigh chuckled when Cordelia moved her hand from on top of hers to hit her shoulder, which she responded by draping her arm over her shoulders and hug her like that. “Okay, okay, I was the troublemaker, you were the brick.”
They didn’t pull away from the position, having Cordelia bringing closer her chair so they could be more comfortable. It was easy to slip in their old selves, too easy, and it was a welcomed feeling. Resting her head over Raleigh’s shoulder, Cordelia received a kiss on top of her head almost automatically. They always had that little gesture, you laid your head in the other’s shoulder and you got a kiss; simple and sweet.
“God,” a soft whisper and then Raleigh felt a kiss on her shoulder, followed by Cordelia resting her chin there. “I wish you did that again.”
“Handyman would freak out if I go into your bedroom like that,” faking a gasp, as if she just said the most hideous thing, Raleigh took a big sip of her tea afterwards. “What if I caught him de-”
“His name is Hank,” the interruption came with Cordelia pulling away from the embrace, holding her mug with both hands.
“Well, don’t want to catch Frank and you on marital stuff,” she didn’t need to look at her friend to see her frown, Raleigh only needed to stretch her bits of magic and sense how Cordelia’s was pulling away.
“I have enough with my mother not liking him,” Raleigh only shrugged and looked at her tea. The guy was a prick and him was the only opinion she would ever have in common with the Supreme. It made her blood boil in anger. “Be nice, please.”
Never prone to awkward silences, that was one heck of an uncomfortable one. Nice was a big thing to say, she already gave him a little electric shock when they shook hands - because heck if he thought she was letting him kiss her cheek - when Cordelia introduce him to her. Tapping her fingers over the wood of the table Raleigh pushed a little bit harder her magic, trying to fight against the effects of the concoction. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry that was always what it meant, it was Raleigh’s way to apologize without having to say the words.
“So, Voodoo,” Cordelia muttered a soft ‘Queenie’ and cracked a little smile. She knew that both were talking more than she was talking with any of the other girls. “Yeah, well, she told me you asked her to help you put some of my music in a...thing. How’s that going?”
Cordelia was letting her again intertwine their magic flows. That was a good thing, at least she still was receptive.
“I’m trying to find one that’s friendly for you, not many features, just the basics,” she fumbled in the pocket of her robe, fishing her phone out of it.
“Oh shit,” Raleigh looked really surprised upon seeing Cordelia’s phone, leaning back in the chair while watching her scroll and touch the screen. “Hope the thing doesn’t look like that, that’s fucking terrifying.”
“It won’t, don’t worry,” a little laugh that made Raleigh move her hand to rest on top of Cordelia’s thigh, giving her a light squeeze. “I have already a list of everything I remember, but you’ll have to check if I forgot to put something,” Cordelia showed her the bright screen and took her other hand, putting the cellphone in it. Raleigh couldn’t read shit, but once she squinted her eyes and put the device a bit further from her face, it was all peachy. “Later I’ll worry about having your eyes checked, old lady, but now tell me, come on.”
Raleigh thanked to be such a hopeless soul with all these new tech, because she enjoyed every second of Cordelia touching her hand while showing her how to scroll down the list. The true bliss of the fools, she told herself while reading all the songs she recognized well from her youth. As far as she saw, Cordelia did a really cool selection of their favourites, warming her heart.
While trying to think of something to say, she saw that one song.
And, of course, Raleigh had to play it right away.
She left the cellphone over the table as the first notes started, standing up and being followed by Cordelia’s sweet brown eyes, full of curiosity. Once she was up, she held her hand out for Cordelia to take. She raised an eyebrow and Raleigh had to flicker her fingers a bit, moving her head to encourage her best friend to move. When their hands were together again, Raleigh started to swing them softly to the beat of the music.
“You’re such a dork,” Cordelia saw how Raleigh started lip syncing the song. “Why do I put up with you, Ocean.”
“A secret stack of Snickers, a Coke and like five bucks, that’s why you put up with me,” they chuckled at the memory, dancing along the song a bit more enthusiastically. “So you tell me, you bought my soul for that price.”
“I bought it because it was the only way to make you shut up and let miss Reverie talk,” Cordelia hit Raleigh playfully in the chest with her hand, nothing she couldn’t handle. “Didn’t think I would regret that in the future, twenty years without touching a Snicker bar after watching you eat them all in like thirty.”
“Is that so? C’mon love, now put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say,” Raleigh sang the part of the song at the right time, used to sing it skillfully, and she did pull Cordelia closer to her so she could circle her neck with her arms. “I think we’re alone now,”
“There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” Cordelia whispered, leaning in the touch and hugging her fully, hiding her face in the crook of her neck. The happy tone of the song didn’t match the chill morning, but it was okay. “I think we’re alone now…”
“The beating of our hearts as the only sound,” she could feel the soft vibrations of Raleigh’s voice against her cheek and that feeling was always the best.
Being like that, so close after being away for that long, feels like heaven. It wasn’t that the song was triggering a specific memory, but because it was their song back then. Cordelia couldn’t help but wonder, swinging to the song in Raleigh’s arms, if she was dreaming. But the Raleigh of her dreams didn’t look like the woman in front of her, she always looked as if she was still eighteen while she herself looked thirty three.
Seeing Raleigh, thirty three like her, breathing and sharing the same physical space as her after fifteen years of being missing still felt unreal.
“Do you remember when we sneaked out in Mardi Gras?” Raleigh’s voice brought Cordelia back to the kitchen, the song still playing. “Miss Snow was so fucking pissed off.”
“At you? Yeah,” another chuckle, another shot of light right into Raleigh’s heart. “Auntie Myrtle didn’t let you be near me for the next two weeks or so.”
“Totally worth it,” when she looked up at her tall friend, Cordelia could see a pleased half smile and Raleigh’s eyes closed. “It's a good thing you had a troublemaker girlfriend, if not we would had spent our two first weeks as such looking at each other from the other side of the lounge," it was Raleigh's time to shoot light into Cordelia's heart. "Nothing could had kept me away from my best girl."
But it did, something kept Raleigh away from Cordelia and now what they had didn't matter anymore. Only them being nostalgic over an old song could make them put their old feelings out there again. But any of them seemed to want to really talk about that at the moment.
Although they kept dancing, both started to drift away slightly in their own minds. Until Cordelia found the courage to ask what she had in mind for a few days now.
"I'm understaffed Ray," hazel tired eyes meeting brown worried eyes.
"That's what I see, honey, one would think you'd get rid off of old Spalding and get new butler and maids."
"Not only the service, but…I'm the only teacher," Cordelia bit her lip, she was really bad at letting her intentions be known. "And I have four young witches in my care…"
"...and you were wondering if I can give you a hand," Raleigh's eyes shone for a second. "With the teacher part I hope."
“Please?”
Raleigh only sighed at it. If Cordelia asked her for the moon, she would bring it to her without asking; if Cordelia asked her to jump, she would only reply how high; if Cordelia asked her to help her, she would do it without hesitation.
"They are brats," the Headmistress looked up at her friend, with a big smile on her lips. "I hate bratty people."
"Nan and Zoe are the least bratty," Cordelia's fingers found Raleigh's nape and played with her hair.
"We don't have enough books," thinking about the only shelf in the house with books made her want to cry. "Did Fiona snort them?"
"I have yours in my closet, stored and safe," the blonde only shook her head softly and Raleigh felt a heavy weight lifted from her body. "We can use them till I figure out a way to get more."
"What about the Council," both knew they soon would had to talk to them about her return.
“Myrtle won’t be here till around Christmas, we have some time to come up with something,” Raleigh made Cordelia twirl at the right time with the music, pulling her closer again easily.
“Permission to not assist morning gathering,” Cordelia gasped and laugh at that, getting what it seemed a smug grin as the only response. “Pembroke didn’t attend shit for like six years.”
“Once a month, I pick the one you assist,” a groan and a giggle, the kitchen hadn’t seen that much sound in the last ten years.
“Fine, but I’m allowed to eat in my room.”
“No, you eat your Smacks in the table with the rest.”
“Aw but thank God, I was going to start a revolution if I had to eat that…awful but healthy cereal you like.”
“We know you wouldn’t, you love me too much.”
“Low punch, but true.”
The song kept playing and they kept their game of terms. That’s how they found out everything was real, that they were by each other side finally. Even when the song ended, they kept dancing in the kitchen for a few minutes more. Cordelia felt light and content, laughing at her friend’s antics and offerings, drowning in her magic and her presence gladly.
As if they didn’t age a single bit.
The comfortable silence settled by itself while Raleigh was hugging Cordelia as close as she could, having the latter's hands and head in her chest. They didn't need words to say what they were thinking or what they were feeling, but there was something that was escaping from Raleigh's knowledge for once. That something being that her friend, her sweet Deli, wasn't the one she last saw before her power made her flee.
She wasn't the girl that she kissed as if she held the her entire universe in her hands.
She wasn't Cordelia Goode, the girl that could talk for hours about potioncraft and astrology.
As a matter of fact, she wasn't even a girl anymore.
"I missed you so much, Ray," the woman in her arms was about to cry, that didn't change, when she managed to gather new words. "I-I thought you wouldn't ever come back."
Raleigh was trying not to fall in the sudden realization, in the way her crippling fear was trying to take her down. She was fine, she was with Cordelia, she was feeling her body and her warmth, she was controlling what she was doing.
"I'm here," the taller woman said that in a broken tone, a statement for both. "I came back."
"I'll keep improving the concoction," a promise, a kiss in the base of her neck and then Cordelia's arms were circling Raleigh to keep her closer as if she was going to run away right in that exact moment. "I won't let it happen again, I won't le-"
"It's perfect at it is Deli," the sweet nickname came out softly as Raleigh pressed her lips against the side of Cordelia's head. "It wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault at all honey."
"I had to stop you, I was- You were-"
Closing her eyes to not watch how her best friend melt in her arms. It wasn't our fault. It was Fiona's, and only hers. Pushing her magic again, to cover her friend, was the answer to not think about the uneasiness and the anxiety. Everything was going to be okay, eventually for sure, but okay. Raleigh was afraid of Cordelia's legs giving up so she held her better in her arms to walk toward their chairs again, almost lifting her ever so softly that she didn't have to take a step if she didn't want to.
It didn't bother Raleigh at all that Cordelia decided to sit in her lap instead of her chair.
With care, she pulled her sleeve with her fingers, using the fabric to wipe away Cordelia's tears with care. If those bitches, including her mother, knew their authority was in a low point…she would tear her apart. And she wasn't having it. Cordelia tried to chuckle between sobs at the gesture.
"I got worse at crying," another chuckle met by Cordelia's own fingers to wipe away a rebel tear. "I got worse at everything, I'm even bad at making babies."
Frowning upon that, Raleigh kissed her cheek to not think about the knot in her stomach. She had Cordelia's right arm resting in her shoulders but she took her left hand to draw her thumb along her wrist. A tattoo, look at you Goode. The touch seemed to relax her friend slightly.
"Babies? How could you possibly be bad at that…?" the comment made Cordelia's expression darkened and showed how she was about to start crying again. "Cordelia, you've never been bad at anything in your whole life, for Christ's sake," Raleigh made her look at her, putting a hand in her cheek, and then something made her stomach churn. "What's gotten into you?"
"Sweet talking to me?" not even like that Cordelia stopped from being the most beautiful.
"No, listen to me," it was hard at that point to control her own emotions, but she had to. For both. "I don't give a shit about whatever bullshit they made you believe. You are a very capable witch, a very capable woman," Raleigh brought Cordelia's hand to her lips, kissing her knuckles softly. "Stop with that."
"But you don't know ho-"
"Are you going to make me hide your potion's stuff till you stop beating yourself up?" Raising her eyebrows a bit comically, the gesture made Cordelia laugh at that and nuzzled Raleigh's neck with her nose, hugging her better and shaking her head a bit. "That's what I thought. Now calm down love, I'm here with you."
Raleigh wanted to do more than just cares Cordelia's back and rocking her softly in her arms, she wanted to provide as much as she could now that she was there. Her head was full of questions, full of things she wasn't able to see with her power, full of all that she missed.
When she thought the blonde woman was more calm, she kissed her temple before speaking again.
"Let's buy some ice-cream and do some chilling together, Brad is gone for the weekend right?" That time the misspelled name made her friend chuckle but something in her body language changed, how she stiffened enough for Raleigh to notice and her arms were starting to pull away. "Only us catching up, listening some music or watching a film? I don't know if we'll have to rent it or you have some VHS here? We can even talk about the super breathing fire babies you'll have, whatever you ne-"
"You are rambling sweetie," it was Cordelia's time to put her hand in Raleigh's cheek. The pet name was…strange for her, her Cordelia never called her that. She didn't like it, in fact. The tone, it was definitely the tone in her voice. "As much as I wanted to…throw a sleepover, I have things to do first."
No, of course this wasn't her Cordelia. Raleigh felt the cold starting to spread in her chest while the woman in her lap started to recover from the breakdown as if she was used to it. She didn't fight when Cordelia stood up, taking both mugs to let them in the sink, before walking back to Raleigh and kiss her forehead. No, no, that's was wrong.
"We'll catch up once I'm back," her smile was different now that she noticed. "I have to run some urgent errands downtown today."
The sudden change in everything, as if some cruel God sped the time, didn't do good to Raleigh's bottled up nerves. In other circumstances, Cordelia would had let her ramble before saying something. She always let her ramble and let everything in her mind flow. Why she was cutting her now?
"Let me tag along," she chirped, very unlikely of Raleigh, hiding her nervousness by standing up too. "I can d-"
"I want you to stay and rest," it was like the dance, the way they were comforting each other, never happened. "And keep an eye on the girls while I'm out, please?"
Cordelia wasn't like this. She obeyed, reassuring her that she would keep an eye on the brats. She is pushing you away. Not even when Raleigh tried to tickle Cordelia again with her magic made her react, only making her smile softly before squeezing her hands between hers. She only dove for a hot second in nostalgia, it didn't mean anything.
Raleigh was left alone in the kitchen again just like that after that last sweet gesture, with the sound of four girls approaching in the distance.
Paralyzed, numb, like a statue, dumbfounded.
What the hell just happened?
For a second she was looking right into the eyes of her old love, and then she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. The feeling of having something missing intensified and it was difficult for her to breath, everything crushing all messy in her head instead of falling in order as she wanted to. As much as she wanted to retake everything that was left as the way it was, it didn't mean the rest of the world didn't move, waiting for her. It was confusing, it was terrifying, it was nerve wracking.
Zoning out as she was doing, it took Zoe a few attempts to make her actually move.
"Are you okay?" the girl, barely eighteen, was looking at her with both worry and hesitation.
Oh dear Lord, she was definitely not.
However she couldn't lose control now. Registering quickly what was going around her, Raleigh faked a chuckle that seemed to soften Zoe's expression and she patted her shoulder, a bit awkwardly to hide her trembling hand.
"Of course, sweet pea, why wouldn't I be?"
#cordelia goode#cordelia goode x original character#raleigh ocean#original character#ahs imagines#american horror story#cordelia goode imagine#ahs coven
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Uncool. University AU, Queen fan fiction. (John Deacon x Tomboy!Reader)
For now, it can be read as a one-shot—as it was originally intended. If someone is interested in this to continue, please let me know! 😊😊
Warning: Cursing, fluff, a bit slow burn?
+ ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— -
It's a fantastic drowse in the afternoon Sunday. Nothing beats hanging out with your friends, smoking, eating pizzas, and tuning to some heavy metal and rocks on the college parking lot; especially, after your midterm exam. It’s not much of being glad the torturing is over, more of you know you nail the exam after studying hard, like the usual. Feels awesome still. But just hanging out isn’t the reason you all here. There’ll be more headbanging later tonight, one of the local metal band is coming to shake the building; whilst waiting, you and your gang are enjoying the quality and fun times together.
“Yo, y/n!”
One of your male classmates came, bringing more foods and forcing three people you don’t know to carry it when both his hands are free.
“How’s it, Dave?” You return the greetings with a handshake and hug. “Care to introduce your new mates?”
Dave points at a girl with long brown hair and purple streaks. She wears black leather spiked jacket atop of her purple tank, complementing her style with tight leather pants and black ankle boots. She also wears thick makeup that makes her face says "fuck you" to anyone it greets. You like her already.
“Jess Gun, call her G. Music student. Jess, this is y/n, our top dog. Mech like most of us.”
“Take a piss, Dave.” But you still take the compliment as you give G a warm handshake.
“How’s it, y/n.”
Then Dave points at a tall and large man. The man proudly showed off his brand new tan, covered in tonnes of tattoos by wearing only thin black sleeveless graphic metal band tee. The common theme of the night; leather pants and black ankle boots. But he’s much more complete with spiked armbands, bracelet, and chain necklace.
“This is Charles C. C stands for Colossal.”
Not surprising that C carried the most out of their raids, so you stopped him when he tries to pass it somewhere or to someone just so he can give you a handshake. Dave tap C’s shoulder, told him to move, uncovering the next new dog for the pack. Someone you didn’t quite expect to look for tonight’s occasion.
“This is John Deacon, Mr D. Ace of the electrics.”
“Just call me, John.” Say the man calmly with a much softer voice. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too…” You return, quite astounded by his symmetrical, handsome, princely features.
For some passerby, it might look like Dave bullies John and force him to carry around his things. And that might be correct, John stands out the most in your group; with his plaid brown shirt, light blue jeans, and a black tight vest. His kind, friendly downturned eyes don’t help either. Feels like looking down at a small puppy as a big black alpha. But lo and behold, he’s also into some deafening and blaring as his past time. Wait, is he?
“Big fan of the Devil’s Fork?” You ask him a bit later after the foods he’s carrying was savaged by your friends.
“Haven’t heard them yet, so I’m not sure. What do you think?”
What begins as your attempt to unfold a bit of mystery surrounding him and following your weird instinct to protect the poor puppy; ends with you blabbering about your obsession over the band—their unique harmonies, intense riffs, and sick styles. You even just noticed that despite his looks that perfectly fit how Dave describes him, he joins you as you power through your Marlboro, leaving nothing for the night. And that was your last pack too.
“Mind continuing whilst we walk to store?” You ask him as you check for your funds. Enough for another pack.
“Okay.”
Nope. The band black van that's showing off their logo on the sides—a small gremlin-like devil holding an oversized red flamming fork in exaggerated art style,—just parked right next to your pick-up truck.
“Well, that’s unlucky.”
“I will run and buy a pack before the gig starts if you’d like.” He says, somehow a bit guilty.
“Nah, mate, I will collect these peasants’ tax. Getting us more of a selection till morning.”
“It's okay. I’m good for today.” He smiles.
From behind him, Dave slaps his shoulder and practically shake the man; he yelped in a very high pitch voice, almost make you burst out laughing. You didn't blame him when he hit Dave's shoulder in return.
“D warmed up to ya’ quick, y/n. As expected.” Dave let out a hearty laugh. “Not many can do that to him. Or maybe that’s because you two are our top rank dweller? Can finally speak in your higher-intelligent language?”
You jokingly kick Dave away and he joins, pretending to be running away from his life, as John—and some that overhear Dave’s remark—laugh at your shenanigan. You hope John didn’t notice you staring at him; amidst the chaos that is Dave munching some arse-whooping from you. You savoured his shockingly cute laugh and face. No. You wish it was forever, so you can admire him to your heart content…
Well, crap.
You just met and you’re crushing hard on him already?
Wouldn't be the first time.
It won’t last long like the others. You assure yourself, tangling your arm on his shoulder as if you’re his old friend. Understanding boundaries and someone else personal space were not one of your strong suits; you get in a whole lot of problems that turn things awkward, but you’ll exploit that fact to get even closer to John.
“But, Dave’s right. You’re gonna have fun with us. And with me, mate.” You say, confidently.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
When you think it’s not possible for a man to be any more charming and stunning, he proved you wrong by just smiling a bit wider.
“I will personally guarantee it.”
***
“Fuck my life.” You sighed after Deacy left your home. You practically let your body fall on the couch as you put your palm on your chest. “What the fuck is going on with me…”
It has been several months since you have attended the best college gig. The same day Dave introduces you to John. You did promise to give John a good time—and it’s a hell of a good time for you and your friends as well. Even John tell you to call him Deacy—or Deaky? He never wrote it down,—the privilege that was only given to you. That might also the reason why your crush now develops into actual feelings.
“Absolutely. Not because he comes here almost every day. All studying together, rocking to music, the fact he makes cool riffs, shred his guitar, and even taught me how to play them…”
You talked to yourself in an attempt to calm down. It works. Partially. You scratch your head furiously and rolled about. Angry that you knew you catch the feelings, but mind goes on thinking it was not a big deal, that it’ll soon be gone. Only when you fall down the couch face first, your decision was made; you will be upfront about it, you will show him your interest. Then, when he returns them warmly, you will do a sneak attack, and ask him to be your boyfriend! Perfect! Maybe then you’ll figure out your feelings more?
“Fuck the tradition.” You exclaimed as you get up. “Says who I can’t woo and pamper my man?”
And so you did. At first, it was very subtle; longer physical contact, purposeful stare, spending more time with him, wearing things he likes, giving him gifts that he likes, listening to even the most curious of his nonsense when he’s drunk. Then it escalates slowly but surely, you have constructed a plan to ask him out to places he likes; arcades, music shop, buy him movies ticket, buy him tickets to concerts. You never fail the dates. And of course, you’re getting even bolder to the point that hugs that used to make your body numb, head empty, heart pounding, feels much too normal now. Occasional holding hands after college or hanging out. Cuddling when watching movies at your house, in front of your friends, even.
But what about him? How does he react? Is it warm enough yet for you to ask him out? You can’t tell. There might be a slight change, but you really can’t see it. It’s always you that initiate physical contacts, even for just a hug. He asks you out to hang, but never to his house, or even special places; just for shopping, to cafes, arcades, library, something very casual. Almost every dates now you try to kiss him, and every time too, somehow, he deflected it as if you purposely closing your eyes and get your face close to him with your award-winning kissy face was just an accident.
“That happens by the end of every date!” You mutter to yourself, burying your face in your palms. “What the hell did I do wrong? Don’t make it clear enough? What do you think, G?”
G stares at you whilst chewing on her gum and smoke at the same time. Now it’s almost on every date too that you drag G and told her your tales of woe. Although you’re paying for her foods, you can clearly see that it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s fed up and well-fed—apparently, she gained a lot of weight because of you.
“Fucking tell him you love him.” Her words came out like venom. “Ask him to be your boyfriend. Stop being a fucking pussy about it. Don’t come to me again if you didn’t do what I said when he’s dating someone else.”
She’s right, you think. Either Deacy is extremely stupid—unlikely for an honour student that beats the crap out of you score wise, or you were never one of the options he wants and simply think your shameless boldness was because you are in fact have zero sense of personal space, and getting used to it fast. Or maybe you're the one that's a wee bit dumber than you thought about not being able to read the atmosphere well most of the times? No other choice but to find out which answer it is.
You’re trying hard to gather your courage, but now you’re still stuck, trying to solve other mysteries instead. As he stares at you, sitting on the other side of the table, eating a giant pile of expensive ice cream quite seriously. Waiting.
You asked him out to an ice cream cafe a week after your date with G, and G said when someone is happy, they tend to give more positive feedbacks, reactions, whatever; because you use that trick and charm her to fatten herself up. It most likely works on him too. Of course, it will be like normal hangout after class, you never miss a day when taking him to places, even if they might be just a small store. It’ll be a hundred per cent chance that he thought today will be normal like thousandth days before. The surprise factor might contribute.
Excellent.
But you’re running out of time; Deacy is powering through the ice cream like it was nothing. If you keep on failing, he might end up like G. Not that it'll affect your feelings towards him.
You took a deep breath.
“Deacy.”
“Yes?”
And there it goes all the courage you have collected for the past ten minutes. Shattered completely as he stopped the scooping mid-way to his mouth.
“See. That’s what happens when you let cats get into your mind. When your guard is lowered, thinking they’re just small creatures that can do you no harm; they took the chance and get your tongue.” He says, then continues eating.
“I am sorry, good sir. But I am willingly and consciously serve my tongue for their enjoyment. Speaks nothing but praise. And they’re very pleased, so they return it.”
He gave out a very monotone gasp.
“They’ve got my best friend under their control. I must go on a journey to find the materials so I can create the machine to reverse the effect of their alien-like ability.”
“She’s your best friend? How sweet, oh, puny mortal. But there’ll be a legion of our army that’ll stop you. By the time your machine is done, she’ll forever be gone. Nothing and no one can save her.”
"A hero will never give up. With the power of friendship, love, and bravery, I will not let anything stops me."
Usually, the odd banter lasts longer and gets weirder by the minutes, to the point that both of you forgot of what you two are previously doing or talking. But this time it doesn't work. What you expected was that you'll just magically drop the L-bomb in between the exchange. Instead, that thought makes you aware of the possibility and suddenly words were lost.
"Y/n? You okay?"
"Yeah. Things get progressively harder to overcome."
"Our made up stories, exam, or something else?"
"Something else."
"What is it?"
You're extremely frustrated by how easy it is to continue talking when it’s just jokes or normal trivial conversations. But when it comes to serious business, you suddenly have no power to speak...
Then you get an idea.
"I got a joke. Knock knock."
"Okay? Who's there?"
"Will you."
"Will you who?"
"Will you be my boyf—."
"There you are! Always leaving us with the dust! Not this time, mate!"
After the initial shock that quite visibly makes you—and Deacy—jumped, you immediately throw your spoons at Dave and his friends that suddenly came. Pouting and fidgeting in your seat in silent anger as they approach you.
“How’s it, mate?”
“Shove those spoons right up your arse!”
It makes you even angrier that no one seems to care about why you’re very angry being disturbed. Not even Deacy himself, as he joins the others and laughs at you and Dave’s yet another antic when you keep hitting him as he tries to sit next to you. You ended up sitting next to Deacy after kicking the other boys that previously sat there.
“That’s his fucking food. I paid it specifically only for him. Shoo!” You yell again at some of the boys that try to put their spoon in Deacy’s ice cream. Slapping them like flies. “The waitress is coming back, buy your own!”
“It’s okay. Do you want some too, y/n? You did pay for it.”
It’s pretty clear that Dave can’t stop staring at the both of you when Deacy keeps on feeding you ice cream before you can even say yes or no. There’s something in the metalhead's eyes that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. Though you did feel a little bad, he’s used to be the one that receives your attention the most, now you can’t even remember the last time both of you hang in a college gig.
“How long have you two been dating?” Dave asked, almost makes you jump in a surprise.
Deacy answered in lightning. “No no no. We’re not dating. I’m not sure we fit each other. I think I only pair with shy girls...”
There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you hear that. You stare at Deacy that’s not even giving you a side-glance after hearing such question. Does he even think about your relationship at all? It’s not even one year, wouldn’t that makes him question why you seem to not only clingy and protective of him, but also very forward? Or does he thinks that’s just how you really are?
“Not the first time you’re rejected like that huh.” Dave jokes.
“Go fuck yourself, David.”
You try your best to repress people’s laugh when they still think this is just the usual friend-insulting-friend jeer. But when you didn't join, the sounds quickly dies down, replaced with conversation and the sound of clanking. You want to change seat so bad; being too close with Deacy right now is very uncomfortable, after he straight up rejecting—well, softly saying he’s not into you. Eventually, you let the pang of pain in your heart submerged by the busy sounds of people talking, spoons clinking, and bustling streets as you play with your freshly ordered strawberry cheesecake. Never really a fan of sweet stuff, you think.
But I need it. Hell of a rejection.
One spoonful almost makes you cringe, but you chew them anyway, enjoying the sweetness in the now duller ambience. Has it always been this orange-ish brown in this cafe? Huh, this is the first time you noticed how warm this place feels. Maybe that’s why both you and Deacy always the frequent here. Whenever you are here with him, it’s always fun. Would it stay the same once your feeling is gone?
This one will go away too. Not the first time.
You hope it’ll be fast this time. Just another heartbreak. Not a big deal. You’ll move on, and Deacy will be like Dave, one of the lads that reject you from being a tad too tomboyish for their taste. You wonder will the next love ended up the same? You hope not.
***
“You look like shit.”
“No shit, mate.”
The gal just cut her hair short and now fully coloured it purple, as per your suggestion, and she looks great. C also think so and accepted G’s confession. You’re happy for them. Very happy. And wish that it’s just happy, and not incredibly envious feelings about her moving on fast from being rejected by Dave. Because of your misery from last rejection, that’s far before G is forcing you to start hooking her up with Dave. And right now G is about to celebrate her four months relationship with C.
That’s also why you are here. To cover G’s shift in the electronic shop G hook you in. As thanks for helping you get a job when you quit the car repair shop right after you see John flirts with one of the regular customer’s daughter. Cute girl, a wee bit younger, long blonde hair and blue eyes, always wear a bright coloured dress. Well, you have to admit, she’s very gorgeous. And one more thing; she does look like a perfect fit for Deacy. But that’s not what makes you immediately call the manager and formed your magnificent bullshit reason to quit. It was when she calls him Deacy.
“Hello?” G snapped her fingers again in front of you.
“What?”
“I’m going? But now I’m not sure that I should, with you like that taking care of the shop. You’re already on your second warning, y/n. Are you really okay if I leave?”
“Go on ahead, mate. C’s waiting.” You push her out the door. “I will be fine, it was just a couple hours. Worse case I will be zapped dead repairing Mrs Carla’s TV. Have fun!”
You purposely laugh out loud to make sure she buys your bullshit and didn’t stop until she’s out of the shop’s front. You slumped down a chair near the cashier and starts flipping the magazine you just bought; hopefully, it can kill the bore and the sadness. Alas, you bought a guitar magazine, and all you can think is now John. He invades your mind like he owns the place, jumped on the couch and start ordering you to listen on how important he is to your heart and soul. How you’re a queen that sits on a throne of liar for denying the truth that you missed him so much. This is the first time this happens. It was never like this, even with Dave—and you meet the dude almost everyday afterwards,—you moved on from him quick as lightning. But why? Why with Deacy—John?
What the fuck is going on with me?
It’s the same question you asked when you first realised how deep you have fallen for him. And then he rejected you softly, you try to drift a bit apart from him so you can move on and swoon on someone else. A cooler dude, perhaps, that’s just as cute, and as awesome as John when he shreds his guitar. But that never happened. You keep on staring at John and only John. His laugh always makes your heart warmer. A simple gesture like when he asks you out and helps you carry your project to the cafe. It’s not only the good, but the bad part also happens; you’re now very much aware when John uses his softer tone whilst talking to another girl, or how kind he is with them. He might just be friends with them, but it pains you so much to see it. Then you start making more distance, hanging more with your old pack. But then the arsehole Dave says that he saw John hang with this one particularly pretty redhead from another college.
“She’s all shy and cute. They look like a real couple, you know. But when you and D’s hang, you look like you’re bullying him.”
“Piss off, Dave.”
And that might be true. You always force yourself on him. Drags him places. What if all this time he’s saying yes not because he likes spending time with you? That he just doesn’t want to hurt you if he says no? You did say you are bad at reading people and knowing what the hell is going on sometimes. It is almost a year you slowly stopped hanging with John, and not once did John approach you, nor did many—which is a lot—of your mutuals mention John’s looking for you. Even worse, the one time they mention John, it’ll always be about him having a new girl holding hands with him. Maybe all this time you are just delusional?
Even so, you have tried your darndest to forget about him since his rejection. You tell your friends about your sadness—G, mostly, poor her—it doesn’t work. You try to pour it in form of letters and later burn them. As the fire is ablaze, so is your love towards him, so that also doesn’t work. C suggest you to make it into a poem, he said it helps him, he even sang them in gigs and people loves it. And you do it—not the sing in front of people part, just the poem. It’s still a fruitless effort. And your score took the brunt of it. You have been nothing but stressed, even more so knowing the final exam is near. You haven’t been studying.
“Good work today.” Say your coworker. “You know, if you’re sick, you should just tell Gun you can’t cover her shift.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been on autopilot.” Yet another bullshit excuse. “Exam, you know. But I will manage. Thanks for worrying about me.”
“I don’t. But getting you fired when we have many stuff still needs fixing is like shooting oneself in the foot.”
“Aw, geez, May, I’m fine! Don’t kill yourself worried like that!” You slap the lanky man’s shoulder. Damn, he’s tall. “If you keep it up like that, I might fall for you, and that might be a problem.”
“How so?” He challenges.
“One man making me miserable is enough. I can’t have you rejecting me as well. This lady only has one heart after all.”
He fell silent. Whoops, your jokes might go too far, or he simply couldn’t care less. But as you grab your jacket and get ready to be sorrowful again on your way home, May joins you.
“Going to the store?” He asks awkwardly. “You know, all that smokes will kill you someday.”
“It can’t come any sooner.” You joke again as you puff one. “I mean, sure, if you meant by the store is my house as well, you’re very much welcome, mate. Need some witness for my pity party.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, y/l/n. Don’t just give up on love just because of several guys happens to see less agressi—more composed girls.”
“Hah. At least you admit they're not up for the adventure. You’re right, they’re missing out big time; when I am committed to someone, I will love them with the entirety of it. But well, maybe that’s why I’m so bloody depressed right now.”
He looked at you softly. His hands are twitching, but then he put it in his pockets.
“You’ll find there are many men in your life that’s close to you, and the right one for you might just be around the corner.”
“He can’t come any sooner.”
The walk is a bit uneventful from that onwards, just a bit of conversation. You thought he was just bitter and hates fun—the way G describes him, but he’s cool. He knows a couple of good rock and metal bands, attended some, in fact, which makes you a bit curious whether you have met him before or not. Although you thank Brian May for making you forget about John even just for a bit by promising to buy him tea one day and in the end he tells you good luck on your exam. And, hmm, he's a bit cute? And you particularly like his kinky hair.
But as you arrive home, in an instant, your head and heart instantly switches back on thinking and feeling your love for John. The room is cold and empty. How you wish, somehow, John was here, waiting for you as he makes you both teas. Last year, today will be a horror movie night. You’ll play the guitar together, or some scribble, or heck, you’re close with final exam, both of you would most likely studying right now. You will bring home cheesecake from keeping him waiting.
And I did.
It is just a an empty wish for him will be here as impossible it is. But you still bought home two cheesecakes when you can’t even finish one. It was one of his favourite food. It’s too sweet for you, but you will gladly eat one with him. Now what should you do with two cheesecake? Call Dave to come? He used to be in John’s place after all, but it was a very long time ago. May? Even for someone as shamelessly bold as you, you know that’s a bad idea. Or maybe not?
But why? Why can’t I just be alone?
Because you know why, yet you dare not admit how much you miss John. How much you love him. Tears start welling up on your eyes. You know why you can’t forget about him; all the smallest hints that reminded you of him is everywhere. Cheesecakes, cafes, electronics, your house, horror movies, studying... And the acoustic guitar that you bought specifically so he can teach you how to play it, the more excuse for you to invite him to your house. Without you even realised, you grab the guitar and you sit on the terrace. Then you sing. Sing to your heart content. You don’t care how ear wrenching it is to listen to your own voice that breaks everywhere, and not to mention false. But you keep on singing and strumming the guitar with the only notes you’ve learnt. You wish to scream to your heart content.
I have suffered, but the love stays. If I can’t forget, then please, please, allow me to cherish my dreams. For without it I might die. For without it, for without him; I have no more reason to live.
“Please... I still love him... I missed him... I—.”
You are wide-eyed when you see a dark figure standing on the street, facing you. Maybe it’s just someone a bit disturbed and/or petrified by your awful symphony. But, no. It has to be him. Just as wide-eyed as you. Perhaps he has been that way? Or maybe you both spooked each other? Has he been there the whole time? Watching your dramatic blue moment; the snots and tears, voice cracks, and shit guitar skill?
Fantastic. He’s head over heels from the sight.
You wiped your tears with your t-shirt as you put down the guitar. The man is still there, and so you approach him, pretended nothing happened. You always know how to deflect with jokes, so you’re confident.
“O-oh, hi, John. What you got there?”
Not so confident... As you get closer, you can see his appearance clearer; even more handsome than the one in your mind. He wears that particular worn out button up shirt that you bought him as his birthday present long ago, the same dark blue jeans he wore the night you two met, and his school bag. But what caused you to ask is the same carton bag you get when you bought the two cheesecakes just now.
“How’s it?” You ask again, find it a bit rude not asking it after a long time no see. But you say it as you reach the carton bag. He pulled it away slightly from your hand.
“I’m... Good. How are you? Are you alright?”
“Where have you been, D? Don’t get a final exam in your college? Lucky.”
“Ah, every engineering students’ wet dream.” He joins. “It wouldn’t be counted as lucky. My college is on the planet Mercury.”
“Shame. I could not wish more than for your college to give you lots of exams once you get back. But, surely you have seen me. Undoubtedly, a human like me can’t resist the fiery passion, just like everyone else, when it comes to the final exam.”
“I don’t think it’ll be much of a blazing flame for the two of us.” He says as he hides the carton bag behind his back, forcing you to face him.
“Oh, absolutely not! Who ugly cries and screamed like a dying cat that actually is fine from the inside? They do. But certainly not me, excuse me for doing it ironically. How about you, fine sir?” You raised your hands in frustration and also to add to your dramatic statement, at the same time, distancing yourself away from him. Your heart is pounding like mad being that close.
“What happened, y/n? Are you really okay? I haven’t seen you for so long, it’s very worrying.”
“Oh, it’s a perfectly adequate! I have a crush on you, it turned serious. Ask you out, invade your personal space. Turns out I’m not your type. You know, blah blah blah, the common gossip. Now, what you got there? Cake? If it’s not for someone else, might I have it? To be honest, I am very hungry.”
There’s a small victory noise you make when you catch the bag and stole it from him. But as you check what’s inside, you take a peek at him only to find him covering his mouth with his hand; his face is bright red, eyes smiling, and eyebrows sky-high on his forehead. You feel as if your entire being is a firework, blasting through the air and exploding in bright colours when you realise why he’s like that.
“E-exam fried your brain, mate. Your sarcasm detector is rusty.” You say, try not to be too happy; you might be wrong.
“Most definitely. And I will just let you insult your way out of your own fake confession, you know, like a cunt that I am. To keep deflecting your obvious and incredible attempt at seducing a man. Thinking I was too uncool to be your boyfriend. You’re right, just another common fucking gossip.”
Now, you’re actually blasting off. You jumped in surprise when he yells that. He never yelled at you; hell, you never hear him raise his voice, even though he curses a lot too sometimes. But this time he full-blown raise his voice to almost the screaming level, especially when the colour of his face could match a ripe tomato, showing a very visible sign that he’s angry you still can joke about it. About your feelings.
But no words were uttered after that; you’re a silent statue, cheeks red, eyes wide, mouth’s open. Whilst he twiddles about, walking, trying to find something as he covers his mouth still, calming himself down. Hoping there’s a shovel he could use to dig himself a grave. Both of your heart is about to detonate, but you’re used to it at this point.
“Mate, if you’re not serious, know there’ll be consequences. And you wouldn’t like it.” You say with gritted teeth; from holding back your almost spilt feelings of joy.
He takes a quick step towards you, it’s also very clear he’s holding back his smile. He retorts out of habit; “what sort of punishment awaits me if I’m guilty your honour?”
In an instant, you grab his hips and get you body practically touches his; feeling his chest raise and fall, and his heart that’s beating also has hard as yours. You screamed in your mind for not thinking, and now you feel like passing out from the blood that’s rushing to your head.
“I will crush you and kill you with my love, and hugs, and kisses, and cuddles—everything. Don’t make me buy us engagement rings. So, until you plead guilty; that you are absolutely serious.”
John can no longer hold his smile. His eyes’ basically twinkling stars. Cheeks pinkier than the electronic store’s neon sign.
“Then I plead guilty.”
He cupped your cheeks and pushes his lips on yours. You closed your eyes, savouring the sweet taste of his mouth—it taste like cheesecake! He ate one before you that bastard! You punishes him by not letting him let go to breath. After couple more seconds that you wish were forever, you finally part lips.
“You are a demon!” He exclaimed, voice breaking as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. But he’s smiling wide.
“Oh you have no idea, and in fact, I could show you more if you’d like?” You say cheekily as you encircle him like a hungry shark.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“I will personally guarantee it.”
And you both smiled as your hand's links.
End (?).
+ ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— -
Omfg, it’s been long time since I write a reader-insert fan fiction, so writing this kinda makes me blush, especially at the end 😳😳😳😵😵
I really hope you enjoy it! There’s a big potential for this particular Tomboy!Reader’s story to be broadened into a serial, although I’m not sure if I can do it now since I have to study for final exam. But if anyone want to know about it, please let me know! 😉
One more thing! Feel free to request imagines or one-shots! :D
#Queen Fan Fiction#Queen Band Fan Fiction#John Deacon x Reader#Deacy x Reader#Deaky x Reader#John Deacon#john richard deacon#Queen#Queen Band#Bohemian Rhapsody#Bohemian Rhapsody Movie#Borhap#Bohrhap#Brian May#Brian Harold May#Joe Mazzello#Gwilym Lee#Deaky#Deacy#John Deacon x Tomboy!Reader#Tomboy!Reader
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Review of Eaton's "12 Reasons Millennials Are Over Church"
About a month ago a friend of mine asked me to give him my opinion about a blog post entitled "12 Reasons Millennials Are OVER Church" by Sam Eaton (The headings 1-12 in quotes are quotes of his 12 reasons with my commentary appearing under). I read over it quickly and decided either I could give him a quick answer or sometimes actually take the time to review it for him. Well, I put it off until I all but forgot to get back to him so I decided to write him a whole blog post about what I think of it. Here is my response and review:
First of all, I HATE being called a millennial. I’d rather be called Generation Y which isn’t a real thing (I would call it from 1982-1996). I’ve talked to some people older than me who feel the same way, so I feel like we unofficially opt-in to a different group together.
Whether or not someone agrees with the 12 reasons, one must applaud Mr. Eaton for actually proposing solutions (though some of them are a little weak). I have read too many “____ are leaving the church” blogs that are more about blame than actually working together.
1) “Nobody’s Listening to Us”
I think that this is a sentiment that most generations share: that the other generations don’t care to listen. Now, generally speaking, he’s not wrong. Age groups tend to think the ones above and below them don’t understand. I think we need to stop saying that no one is listening and just get together and have conversations. If nothing happens after that, then maybe someone isn’t listening, but I think everyone is guilty of wanting to be heard but not wanting to listen. The same with hiring a pastor who can connect with millennials, it feels like a way for old school pastors to not have to listen to the younger generation. Almost like what happens with youth or children when we put them in a corner somewhere with a “babysitter” so we don't have to deal with them. As people, we certainly connect easier with certain types of people, but for someone to say I can’t (or won’t) work with ____ is to be ignorant.
If Peter or Paul had ignored the gentiles you wouldn’t have the privilege of being able to select who you are “called” to. Jesus himself said that he was called to the children of Israel but still healed and attended to outsiders.
If you want a young adults pastor just so you don’t have to interact with them, then you might want to check your heart, but that’s me trying to take your speck out I suppose.
2) “We’re Sick of Hearing About Values and Mission Statements”
I second this! Some of them are pretty catchy, but I echo his echo that we already have a Biblical command to love God and love people with a mission to make disciples. Churches do get pretty wrapped up in statements to the point where they forget to make a plan on how to enact it.
I do want to stress the importance of an organization to have a mission and vision. Here at Empty Church, we talk about the 6 days between Sundays with the church buildings are empty. What's that mean? As an organization, we have to help equip people to have faith 7 days a week rather than 1. I personally believe that ties in perfectly with the greatest commandment and the great commission. Our statement came out of what we started Empty Church for: faith being built through conversation. All our online content it meant to help people have a starting point for such conversations.
3) “Helping the Poor Isn’t a Priority"
I'm not sure when the church started to forget this. It might have been when Republican became synonymous with Christian. It might be that the churches actually helping the poor don’t get PR so we don't know that they are doing it.
I think he hit the nail on the head with this one. There is a love component that seems to be missing without service to the poor. The EC Crew definitely feels that we must serve outside of our organization to help others.
I like his solutions of asking the people in the church about needs of people they know as well as being intentional abut setting up times to help out. Careful, though, that the “I served for this month” attitude does not arise, but cultivate an “anywhere anytime” culture that looks more like the good samaritan story.
4) ”We’re Tired of You Blaming the Culture”
I do think the church does a lot of blaming. The problem is we pick and choose things from the culture deeming them either good or bad and we are too afraid to be rejected based on a Godly culture. We want acceptance and affirmation way too badly ( I am SUPER guilty of this). So we blame the world’s culture for the things we don't like and appropriate the “okay” things. Problem is, everyone has their own idea of what is okay since we aren’t looking to God for our morality.
He said to stop talking about the end times or at least in regards to, “how bad culture is” and I am half and half on this one. If he means we need to stop over reacting saying that the end is near only because the world looks like the world, then I agree. BUT we cannot stop talking about Jesus returning.
5) “The “You Can’t Sit With Us” Affect”
I agree with this. Some churches even have unofficial assigned seating. Here's my take on the whole thing: Humans naturally form groups with people we connect with. One of his solutions is to create authentic communities centered around service. 1) that is easier said than done. 2) communities have sub-groups which either count as a clique or eventually become one. Once a group starts to grow new smaller groups tend to emerge as well.
At college I watched groups form, grow, explode, and merge. I saw how groups can look more like a molecule where some groups share common members but are not one large group but two groups linked. How is that a molecule? The molecule is the school community. All of the interconnected but distinct sub-groups of the school are the atoms.
Am I defending “cliques?” No. that word carries a negative connotation of exclusivity which the author indicates by his likening church to Mean Girls. I completely agree. Churches often are a molecule with no available connections left and we turn people away. We must be intentional about not becoming so closed off that someone seeking to be a part of the faith community is not allowed. Sometimes they are turned away only because they are not wearing pink on Wednesday. Sometimes people visit a church gathering and realize that, although everyone is close and loving, they would never be included. (Side note: as I write this I see pictures on social media of some party where it looks like everyone was included except me. It feels like I am no longer their friend. People naturally cut off old connections to make room for new ones. But a loss of friendship is still a loss and it hurts.)
6) “Distrust and Misallocation of Resources”
I hear the heart of this one. I have seen money wars in churches and how it can destroy. I do believe churches need to be more thoughtful on how they spend money, especially in the coming years (as I believe there will be less exemptions from the government). But I don't know if people need to know where every cent goes. That sentiment sounds like a control and trust issue to me. Why are churches the only organization that we want to see every cent? People donate to causes all the time that have HUGE overhead, but in the church world, we’ll pull our tithe if we thought money should have been spent on children rather than the homeless.
Sure churches to use money for “better things.” But that is a slippery slope. Why? There is always something else we could be spending money on. Always. Oh, your church doesn’t have a huge mortgage? How much does it cost in upkeep? Couldn’t that money be spent better elsewhere? What about the people on payroll? Shouldn’t they donate their time and talent? What keeps the church from taking every cent they receive and giving it away? Isn’t that the ultimate end in this line of thinking?
People expect the church to put money wherever they think the money should go and then under the guise of “transparency” complain when they money is spent elsewhere. Look it is true that churches buy some extravagant things that make us question if they money is being spent in the best ways, but money always makes people itchy. Churches split over which color carpet to buy, I’m not sure if the solution is a line item list where people can see when gram crackers were bought for a snack for kids (remember that money could have been used for the homeless). Before we say that our use of funds is the most correct we must have some empathy to see why someone else would want the money used for their cause - if we truly believe in our cause then money we personally should give to it rather than expecting the church to do it for us.
7) “We Want to Be Mentored, Not Preached At”
Empty Church certainly values mentoring and discipleship. Josh wrote a bunch of blogs about mentoring. Although I personally don’t have an “official” mentor, I definitely see Josh as a mentor as well as my friend.
Empty Church strives to have a dialogue and not merely a monologue, which is why we have a time of discussion after the sermon every Sunday. We are trying to have something more than being preached at but a full exchange of ideas. I see the dialogue as a time for mentorship/ discipleship within the group but is not the traditional sense of a mentor.
8) “We Want to Feel Valued”
Everyone wants to feel valued. That’s a fact. I understand what the author is getting at as he describes churches that merely want millennials to be warm bodies to serve rather than interacting members of the group.
I’ve been asked why we started a church rather than joining an already existing one and I think some of the answer comes from the fact that I don't think anyone would have let us try what we are doing.
The trust and exchange of ideas and methodologies between the generations is pretty piss-poor. Older people don’t want to try what the younger people think of and the younger people don’t think there is anything valuable from the older methods. Both thought processes are wrong. There needs to be a meeting of ideas. But both groups have to value each other first.
9) “We Want You to Talk to Us About Controversial Issues (Because No One Is)”
This one is a good one. The church is famous for ignoring taboo things and then people learn about it from other sources. Example: children encounter porn and sexualized everything everywhere, way after children are over exposed or even addicted then we say “this is all bad” and it's too late. The author says that he does not expect a sex series, but I question why not? The vast majority of families see movies with sexual innuendos if not implied sex in them but the pastor cannot preach on biblical sex? Some would argue that that's for the parents to do when the time comes, but let's be realistic, most never cover it. Maybe I just don't know since I don't have kids, but even the earliest you could ever talk to them about it, they have already been exposed to it. Let’s stop the silence.
The same goes for now. There isn’t a dialogue going on about anything. Just unwritten rules about all kinds of things. Many people don't believe that science and religion and ever been compatible and then we wonder why one of the most scientifically informed generations no longer goes to church.
10) “The Public Perception”
This one is a no-brainer. People do not trust churches anymore. People see churches more as greedy entities rather than the generous, loving, and serving groups that they should be. Public perception is that Christians are hypocrites. That hurts me. They can call us fools. That's fine with me. But we should be fools to the point that we follow the foolishness. Not fools who don't even believe their own foolishness.
11) “Stop Talking About Us (Unless You’re Actually Going to Do Something)”
"If you want the respect of our generation, under-promise and over-deliver." -- Sam Eaton
I read articles all the time about how crappy millennials are. I read articles all the time about how millennials are leaving the church. I read many articles that voice complaints about millennials. I love that they author issues a challenge for people to actually do something rather than just talking.
12) You’re Failing to Adapt
I like his appeal to try new things and to take risks. It makes me think of the Magic School bus quote about taking risks, make mistakes, and get messy.
Conclusion:
I see a lot of blame from both sides. Even this article seems to blame the older generation for not acknowledging millennials. There is many “we’s” and “you’s” - showing a divide.
I feel as if the article as a whole is the same old story of two generations not understanding each other. It shows how we need more communication and less blame. The only problem is that people do not want to listen but want to be right. Until we have a dialogue, each generation will continue to not to understand each other.
About the Author | Sean Kready
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An imperfect Christian, who sins on the daily, but tries to share his journey so that we all might know God better. This is our offering. An act of worship.
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From Pew to Pulpit
Critiquing the church-going experience. Why? Because we love the Church and we are trying to figure it our for ourselves.
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Sunday Spins: BLOODLUST
The tragic reality of Body Count's latest LP.
Wondering what to listen to this Sunday? Need some killer tunes to go down with that coffee and croissant combo? Welcome to Sunday Spins, a recurring series that will showcase a selected album inspired by the week that was.
"How?", I numbly repeated to myself over and over again like a broken record. "How does this keep happening?"
If you didn't happen to catch the news over in America this week, Officer Jeronimo Yanez was acquitted over the shooting of Philando Castile during a regular traffic stop, despite all evidence pointing to a clear guilty verdict. In addition to the decision, police dashboard camera footage was released mere days after the verdict depicting the full interaction. Warning: the footage is graphic and difficult to watch, but necessary to understand why the case outcome is so maddeningly baffling. "How does this keep happening?"
Turn back to 1992. A rapper by the name of Ice-T, releases (of all things) a thrash metal album as part of a band named Body Count, with a song called 'Cop Killer.' Guess the reaction to THAT song... This eponymous debut was released in a post-Rodney King America; tensions were high, and you can feel the anger and frustration concerning issues of race and police brutality. In the song 'Body Count,' Ice T sings:
Goddamn, what a brother gotta do to get a message through to the red, white and blue? What, I gotta die before you realise I was a brother with open eyes?
Cue today. Not only are we talking about the same issues, but the implications are more dire. Black people are still getting killed by police due to fear and prejudice, and time and time again the repercussions of these actions result in zero accountability for the person on the stand. Despite all the video footage, the testimonies and the systemic history of unnecessary excessive force by police, nothing has changed. In fact, the situation is deteriorating. It is often said that things need to get worse before they get better. If that is the case, what is the tipping point? In chemistry, for a change to occur a reaction needs to take place through the excursion and conversion of energy. Who better to act as a catalyst for rage and a conduit for righteous indignation, than the man who was talking about the same issues over twenty years ago?
After testing the waters to see if there was still an audience to receive their message with Manslaughter in 2014, Ice-T and Body Count released the incendiary and politically charged Bloodlust earlier this year. The frustration and anger over banging the same tired drum over and over again, is apparent from the very first track and doesn't really subside over the course of the album. Opening salvo 'Civil War' addresses the current climate of tension and unrest though the parable of a worst-case scenario - a looming civil war where "It's already started, maybe too late to stop." 'No Lives Matter' unpacks the issues surrounding the Black Lives Matter movement. In an interview with Hip Hop DX, Ice-T talks about the nature of the phrase:
I start the record off by saying it’s unfortunate we have to say it and bring it up as a point. It’s a phrase of desperation. It’s not a phrase of power. It’s a phrase of despair. They’re diluting what you’re saying right now with ‘All Lives Matter.’ This is being sparked from a lot of black people being killed in a short period of time. I take it a step further. When you’re talking the base of government and power, we are all collateral damage at the end of the day.
The final track, 'Black Hoodie,' perhaps most chillingly echoes the sentiment following the details in the wake of the Castile's death - "You didn't have to shoot me and that's a known fact, and now I'm laying face down with bullets in my back." The futility and despair of this perpetual cycle of injustice is laid out in an honest, matter of fact manner that resonates deeply with anger and disbelief. You can hear the exasperation in Ice-T's words, as he says in the spoken introduction, "I've been talking about this shit for over 20 years." The more things change, the more they stay the same...
Look - it is easy to succumb to hopelessness. Nothing seems to be changing. I keep thinking, what is it going to take for these acts of unchecked power going to stop? What horror am I going to find in the news from America tomorrow? How is this all going to end? It's much easier to balk at the issue, than to confront the problem directly. Indifference doesn't get things done. Action does. With Bloodlust, Body Count is pissed. They are angry as hell, and rightfully so. If you are not angry about injustice, it's going to keep happening. That's just how it goes. Body Count may not have the answers, but they are taking action, channeling anger into music that not only can be part of the conversation, but may inspire other musicians and listeners to make the discussion louder by speaking up.
Anger alone solves nothing though - it's what we do with it that counts. Bloodlust is a call to action; for us to feel, listen, speak up and do something. It could have been so easy for Ice-T to throw up his hands at the futility of it all, and not talk about it. I mean, saying the same thing for over twenty years to no avail has got to be existentially frustrating. You know what he didn't do though? Stay silent. In giving an outlet for their anger, Body Count has given a healthy outlet for ours.
Sometimes all you need is to vent - so turn it up, and don't turn away.
Key tracks: 'Civil War,' 'No Lives Matter,' Black Hoodie.'
Listen here on Spotify:
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Show 17 and 18 of the #80show year took me to the steel city of Sheffield for Southside Wrestling at the famous local concert hall and student haunt - The Corporation. Now the area of the Corp to which the wrestling was in is very warehouse like, also home to the worst men toilets in Yorkshire, broken taps galore and the whiff of stale piss. Southside have been running Sheffield for around 3 years, i remember my first time there had Mark Haskins vs Tommy End in a 20 minute classic on a Sunday afternoon and worth the admission on it's own. I also seem to remember they were doing cans of Tetleys for £1.50 a pop. Since then i have been to a couple of double headers they have had on and the over riding feeling was that they run a very good show all around but nothing much that would make me want to go to Stevenage. I have been to one of their shows in Nottingham though. What hasnt changed with Southside over the last 3 years is that either Joseph Connors or El Ligero has held the title, with Ligs being the champion now and what looks like he is in a feud with Robbie X and his bright red face and Damian Dunne. Connors on the other hand is carrying a toy belt whilst still thinking he is champion. These two shows included the return of Lucha Underground star - Fenix who when i last saw him he had a cracker with Sami Callihan in Nottingham at Speed King. Tonight Fenix faced Ethan Page in show 1 and Bubblegum in Show 2 both of which were good matches, the Bubblegum match was a bit tarnished by the fact me and my group were clock watching to see if we could get the last train and luckily we did. The aforementioned Joseph Connors faced Magnus on show 2 in what could only be called as a snoozefest. I fear for when ITV's World of Sport comes back on and Magnus is on, the run for the remote to switch to CATS DO THE FUNNIEST THINGS is gonna be ten fold. But the 2 main highlights of the two shows ended up being Session Moth Martina who though a bit of a comedy character, literally has you hooked from her entrance and if she can keep her act fresh, she can last as long as what Grado has. The match of the night for me was the intergender tag match between Nixon Newell and Candice la rae vs Chris Brookes & Travis Banks. This match went all the way round the warehouse and including table bumps, people jumping off bars, Travis Banks riding along in a wheelchair and just top quality action. Very much what wrestling should be - FUN and these 4 put in a shift. Chris Brookes is very much one to watch this year, got his heel act down very well and instantly hateable plus he has some great merch, even i handed my 20 quid over. Overall the 2 shows were very good and i give it a 8/10, but check out the show 2 tag match on demand or dvd. Beer prices - Craft beer in the Corp for around £4.50 but glad to see a selection. Other drinks around £3.50 a pint. Other Pubs in Sheffield - The Sheffield Tap, Brewdog, Frog and Parrot, Devonshire Cat all got visited and very much recommended. Chip shop - The Devonshire Chippy is a great priced chippy and you can get anything from onion rings to pea and onion fritters. Show 19 of the #80showyear was Futureshock Wrestling in Stockport which was headlined by James Drake and resident booing machine Zack Gibson vs Sam Bailey and Danny Hope. In which Drake and Gibbo ended up losing due to much miscommunication between the two which resulted in the pinfall victory for Hope and Bailey. New Womens Champion April Davids in her first defence faced Violet Vendetta in a very much improved effort from Violet who silenced this critic here with this performance. Jenson Blake got his match finally with Chris Egan, but sadly Blake who had already been banjoed by Cyanide for 5 minutes was easy picking for Egan who picked up the win. Egan is very good at the managers role, in much the mould of a old school managers say like a jimmy hart. He also has bad fashion sense but its all part of a great character. But the real talking point of this show was the halftime main event of Soner Durson vs Travis Banks. This match was 20 minutes of fluid, hard hitting wrestling including some great near falls including a one man Spanish Fly to which Banks barely kicked out of, Durson eventually won the match in the end. But in a scene not seen since the Zack Gibson vs Jack Gallagher matches the 250 strong crowd rose in unison to applaud this masterpiece. To say in the break everyone was buzzing about this match, i could have easily gone home and been a happy man. Hopefully they do it one more time but how can they top this match. But as come accustomed in this blog and 19 shows in, one regular name is popping up - Travis Banks. Just if you see him on a card go and watch that show you will be a fan, plus he is a nice bloke to chat to. Beer Prices - £2.50 a bottle for bulmers but this was limited time only. I tried The Nelson pub across the road for the first time and its alright if you like your early 2000s nu metal music and the sight of two pissed up blokes trying to play pool.
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The Walking Dead Is No Match for Its Eagle-eyed Fans
If you have a couple of hours and a few brain cells to kill, I highly recommend going spelunking in the deep well of online commentary on The Walking Dead. From fan fiction to nitpicking the set to challenging plausibility to porn, there’s quite literally everything to sate a curious (Walking) Dead-head.
There’s even one fan theory that is “an idea from a Batman theory mixed with Shutter Island.” It explains that, ultimately, Rick is actually in a mental hospital, with Laurie, Michonne and Andrea as nurses, the Governor and Negan as doctors, Shane as the general practitioner who committed Rick for kidnapping two children, Judith and Carl, and the whole rest of the cast rotating as fellow patients. Why a fan theory would ignore the entire concept of the apocalypse that’s garnered the show cult status is a mystery. Also, forget Batman — that happened in Season 6, Episode 17 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Regardless, here’s a cherry-picked selection from the World Wide Web of geeking out on The Walking Dead. Enjoy at your own risk of never watching the show the same way again.
Let’s talk about the blood
OK, this one is something that has personally bothered me, and I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to bitch about it. So, there was an iconic moment in Season 1 — perhaps one of the moments that solidified the show’s status as serious as fuq — when Glenn and Rick throw on some tarps and slather themselves in zombie goo, hands and organs so that they can walk among the dead undetected. Luckily, they pull off their smelly scheme in a nerve-wracking scene, and a new defense tactic in the Walking Dead universe was born.
So, it makes sense that in the very successful spinoff series Fear the Walking Dead (which centers on a different group in California at the start of the outbreak but operates within the same confines of TWD), they use the same strategy to walk among the dead. What bothers me is that they go from rubbing on a pretty disturbing amount of blood and guts to just a couple of hand smears on a shirt. This seems to be because the character always trying to go on a zombie jog in FTWD is pretty boy Nick, and it makes sense that the showrunners don’t want his adventurous ass always looking like Swamp Thing. But it just takes you out of it, in my opinion, that we’ve gone from Rick and Glenn wearing the the contents of two adult humans to Nick just sporting a little zombie blush.
Can zombies stop and smell the roses?
Which leads us to the next point fans pointed out online: What’s this nonsense about the walkers somehow being able to smell? We’ve seen all manner of deformed, decaying walkers, from solitary heads still gnawing on the ground to zombies missing parts of their faces, like the pet zombies Michonne kept as protection when we first met her in Season 3. The zombies are not supposed to be sentient, and they clearly don’t have any feeling, so why is their sense of smell so keen that they can sniff out their prey, differentiating between live humans and fellow zombies by scent?
This also helpfully leads us to another great crowd-sourced point: The zombies have gotten dumber as we’ve gone on. This could have a legitimate explanation, which is that at this point, the remaining zombies have been rotting for a long time, making them slower and dumber. But it’s still worth noting that in the first episode, the little zombie girl that Rick sees not only picks up her dropped teddy bear — suggesting far more motor skills and a kind of consciousness that we don’t get from present day TWD zombies (or even FTWD zombies, for that matter) — but also starts to run at Rick, which is a far cry from the post-drug-and-alcohol bender kind of stumble we see the zombies do now.
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Fans also pointed out that throughout the gang’s time in Atlanta, zombies could throw things to break glass and climb fences. A possible explanation is that the producers didn’t have a complete idea of how every aspect of the show would operate yet, which plenty of shows do (for example, Carrie talks to the camera in Season 1 of Sex and the City but she stops doing it by midseason, showing that they quickly realized this was silly AF). It probably became clear that Rick et al. would have had a rough time surviving this long against those wily Season 1 zombies.
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Let’s get nitpicky
My favorite kinds of TWD fan comments comb the show for aesthetic deviations from the narrative. For example, people were really pissed that the prison lawn was mowed in Season 3.
Honestly, this one is fair. When our ragtag gang stumbled onto the prison, it had been months since the walkers took over the world, and everyone is just trying to find a turtle to cook or a gun to shoot. They’re definitely not finding the time or gas to hop on a John Deere for a joyride. Internet sleuths actually found out that the show pays its location’s owners to go without lawn upkeep for three weeks prior to shooting. Clearly, someone dropped the ball on this one.
More: Bring It, Negan! The Walking Dead May Have Just Revealed Its Secret Weapon
The Herbie the Love Bug of TWD
I also can’t help but giggle at the magic Hyundai Tucson fans noticed in Season 2 (which some fans and critics started referencing as a character). The vehicle model was from 2012, but in the show’s timeline, it’s supposed to be 2010. This is clearly an ad placement that was a production oversight — or maybe the showrunners were severely underestimating their fans back in Season 2.
What about this most recent season?
Boy, have fans stayed the course in their obsessive hunt for mistakes and plot holes. Since the 2017 premiere of the second half of Season 7, fans have already pointed out two huge errors that can’t be unseen.
In “Rock in the Road,” as Rick and his Alexandria angels dejectedly exit the Hilltop’s mansion only to be met by Hilltop residents wanting to join their fight, the camera pans over our heroes standing on what is supposed to be a southern plantation’s porch, with the front door wide open. The careful eye will notice that the mansion is no Georgia gem after all — there’s a paper mural faking an interior.
http://i.imgur.com/JY8Fkzs.mp4
But worse of all, in the very next episode, “New Best Friends,” fans spotted a plane in the background as Rick stares out from a trash mountain over the world’s wasteland — clearly, no place that planes are flying around anymore.
The paper background is kind of funny, but the plane is kind of sad because it could have easily been edited out. But who knows — maybe the showrunners were actually hinting at a new crew of NASA engineers who survived and are going to save the day in Season 8 by sending everyone up to Mars! Maybe every plot hole and misstep is leading up to some grand plot twist we can’t even imagine! I’m just waiting for someone to explain whether or not Dwight/Negan’s wife’s name is Sherry or Honey, because they use both.
Also, props to Eugene for this epic gag in last Sunday’s episode. He’s chomping on a pickle while he apologizes to Dwight for biting his crotch last season. Well played, D, well played.
Source : sheknows
https://squipitme.com/2017/04/10/walking-dead-no-match-eagle-eyed-fans/
#amc entertainment the walking dead#Entertaintmen#featured#The Walking Dead Is No Match for Its Eagle-eyed Fans
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College basketball schedule 2017: Times, TV coverage, and scores for Feb. 3
A Pac-12 showdown between Oregon and Arizona headlines what should be another wild Saturday in college hoops.
Last week, college basketball gave us just one Saturday showdown featuring a pair of top 25 teams. What was supposed to be a mild day and night of hoops turned into a wild 14-hour span loaded with upsets.
This week has the potential to give is our fill of both. There are a heavy dose of dangerous games featuring ranked favorites, but also three showcase tilts with two top 25 teams going head-to-head.
That number would be four, but the North Carolina-Notre Dame game has been pushed back to Sunday because of a water-main break of 1.5 million gallons in the towns of Carrboro and Chapel Hill on Friday afternoon. The game will now be played in Greensboro on Sunday at 1 p.m., and will be televised on ESPNews.
Here are a bunch more games that will be nationally televised, but all of them will be played on Saturday.
MUST WATCH
No. 23 Purdue at No. 17 Maryland (12 p.m./ESPN)
It’s a bit mind-boggling that a program as high-profile as Maryland could be off to the best start in school history (20-2) and still be ranked no higher than 17th. The biggest reason for that is that the Terps haven’t beaten, or even played, a top-25 team yet this season. One of those facts is guaranteed to change Saturday afternoon. Maryland fans hope both of them do.
No. 5 Arizona at No. 13 Oregon (4 p.m./ESPN)
This is the only time these two will meet in the regular season, which means the game will have even larger implications for both the Pac-12 championship and a potential No. 1 seed in the NCAA tournament than it would otherwise.
No. 8 Kentucky at No. 24 Florida (8:15 p.m./ESPN)
It’s hard not to view this game as a referendum on Florida, a team the computers love, but which has just one win over a team that appears to be a lock to make the tournament. If the Gators are able to win, it will also make the SEC race among the three teams at the top of the league standings awfully interesting for the next month.
SHOULD WATCH
No. 9 Virginia at Syracuse (12 p.m./ESPN2)
What the committee chooses to do with Syracuse seems destined to be one of the most interesting storylines of Selection Sunday. The Orange of a handful of just inexplicable losses, but they also seem more likely than not to finish in the top half of the best conference in the country. Racking up a few quality wins like this one would make everyone’s job at least a tad easier.
Pittsburgh at No. 21 Duke (1 p.m./CBS)
Coach K back.
Iowa State at No. 3 Kansas (2 p.m./ESPN)
Whatever the hell is going on off the court in Lawrence seems to be the only thing capable of derailing the work the Jayhawks are putting in on it. The distractions keep piling up, but so do the wins. Only time will tell if that trend can continue.
Kansas State at No. 2 Baylor (3 p.m./ESPNews)
What is up with Baylor always playing on ESPNews? The sports world rarely needs to remember what channel ESPNews is anymore, and 99.9 percent of the time we do, it’s because Baylor is playing a close game against somebody. The Bears are the real deal. Bump whatever crap game is on ESPN2 or ESPNU and let’s end this trend before the public starts catching on.
Xavier at No. 22 Creighton (3 p.m./Fox)
It’s a Big East battle between the league’s biggest first-half disappointment, and what had been the league’s most pleasant surprise before Mo Watson Jr. went down. Creighton appears to be settling into life without Watson, posting back-to-back wins, the most recent of which being a monster road upset of No. 16 Butler. Xavier, meanwhile, finds itself out of the rankings for the first time all year and in desperate need of building some momentum in order to avoid this season being remembered as a massive letdown.
Illinois State at Wichita State (8 p.m./ESPN2)
It’s the game of the year in the Missouri Valley, as 11-0 Illinois State hits the road to take on 10-1 preseason favorite Wichita State. You should watch. That’s why the game is under this subheading.
Santa Clara at No. 1 Gonzaga (10 p.m./ESPN2)
Who cares if Gonzaga is a 22-point favorite? It’s the No. 1 team in the country and they’re 23-0. You should at least check in.
WORTH WATCHING UNLESS YOU HAVE A VALID EXCUSE
Georgia at No. 19 South Carolina (2 p.m./ESPN2)
Georgia already squandered a huge opportunity against a depleted Kentucky team earlier this week. They need this one or the game against Florida Tuesday night to keep any realistic shot of earning an at-large bid alive.
Connecticut at No. 14 Cincinnati (4 p.m./ESPN2)
UConn is really bad and Cincinnati is really good, but sometimes cool stuff happens when these two meet.
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Ohio State at Michigan (6 p.m./ESPN2)
I’m told there is some animosity between these two programs.
St. John’s at No. 4 Villanova (8 p.m./CBS Sports Network)
St. John’s has spent the whole season sprinting between two extremes — “Is this the worst power conference team in the country?” and “These guys might actually be okay.” Who knows what they’re going to do in Philly Saturday night.
No. 11 UCLA at Washington (10:30 p.m./Pac-12 Network)
It’s a big game, so Washington will try, which is always a good thing. And even if they stop trying in the second, there are going to be a lot of talented players scoring a lot of points, which is also always a good thing. For us, at least.
IF YOU WANT TO JUST CHECK THE BOX SCORE THAT’S FINE ... BUT CHECK THE BOX SCORE
Wagner at Fairleigh Dickinson (11 a.m./ESPNU)
It’s nationally televised pre-noon college basketball on a Saturday, which means you have an excuse to drink before lunch. Don’t let anybody tell you any differently.
Seton Hall at Georgetown (12 p.m./FS1)
Seton Hall is the first team out in Chris Dobbertean’s latest bracket projection, so this is sort of a big deal for Kevin Willard’s team.
Akron at Ohio (12 p.m./CBS Sports Network)
It’s a battle of the top two teams in the MAC’s East Division, which is a bit misleading since Akron is 9-0 and Ohio is 5-4.
Duquesne at Dayton (12:30 p.m./NBC Sports Network)
These are the types of games Dayton can’t afford to slip up in if they want to have a relaxing Selection Sunday.
Rutgers at Penn State (1 p.m./ESPNU)
Rutgers comes into this game 340th out of 347 Division-I teams in three-point field goal percentage. It’s not the only reason the Scarlet Knights have lost 10 of their last 11, but it’s up there.
Texas at TCU (1 p.m./ESPNews)
At this point you have to assume that Pitt fans are watching every TCU game with same confusion, focus and despair as an ex-boyfriend scrolling through his old girl’s pictures with “new friends” on Facebook.
Marquette at DePaul (2 p.m./FS1)
I wrote about Marquette finally regaining its old mojo last week, and the Golden Eagles promptly dropped two in a row. If they lose to DePaul, then yeah, that’s entirely on me.
Indiana State at Northern Iowa (2 p.m./CBS Sports Network)
Not the game of the week in the Valley, but that’s okay.
George Washington at Richmond (2:30 p.m./NBC Sports Network)
Is it possible for a college basketball game to be too America? Watch and find out.
Ole Miss at Vanderbilt (3 p.m./ESPNU)
You don’t need to check the box score. I’m just being nice here because the game is on TV.
Miami at NC State (3 p.m./ACC Network)
After briefly holding the ACC’s “I have no idea what to make of this team” flag for about a week, NC State is now firmly back in the “they’re bad” camp. Miami is currently second in the “I have no idea what to make of this team” standings, sitting just behind Syracuse, and just ahead of Georgia Tech.
No. 6 Louisville at Boston College 3 p.m./ACC Network)
Every time we all agree that a team in the ACC is really good, they seem to tank that weekend. Louisville is that team heading into February, which means the Cardinals might be on upset alert in Chestnut Hill. Or they might win by 50. It’s the bleeping ACC, nobody knows.
Minnesota at Illinois (4 p.m./Big Ten Network)
After looking like the Big Ten’s most pleasant surprise, Minnesota has now lost five in a row. A February season recovery has to start Saturday.
VCU at St. Bonaventure (4 p.m./CBS Sports Network)
Will Wade quietly continues to do a fantastic job at VCU, which enters the weekend tied atop the A-10 standings with Dayton.
William & Mary at Towson (4 p.m./NBC Sports Network)
After a disappointing first half of conference play, preseason Colonial favorite William & Mary appears to be hitting its stride. The Tribe is averaging 95.0 ppg over its last four contests, all blowout victories.
Utah at Stanford (4:30 p.m./FS1)
The Utes have not won a game at Maples Pavilion since 1971. Larry Krystkowiak’s club has been close in recent years, losing there by a point in 2014, and in overtime last season.
Memphis at Central Florida (5 p.m./ESPNews)
Memphis, which has some work to do if it wants to make the tournament in Tubby Smith’s first season, gutted out a 70-65 win over UCF just two weeks ago.
Oklahoma State at No. 7 West Virginia (5 p.m./ESPNU)
Brad Underwood suddenly has the Cowboys rolling. OSU has won four straight, and will be out for revenge against a West Virginia team that embarrassed them at home on Dec. 30.
Arkansas at Missouri (6 p.m./SEC Network)
Postseason idea for college basketball: force the eight worst major conference teams to play in a single elimination postseason tournament. Here’s the catch: losers advance and keep playing.
Can you imagine the level of pissed off that you’d see in a Missouri-Oregon State or LSU-Rutgers semifinal game? You can’t tell me that wouldn’t me more entertaining than the CIT.
Colorado State at UNLV (6 p.m./CBS Sports Network)
It has been a rough go for Marvin Menzies in his first season with the Rebels. The good news is that the Mountain West is wide open, so there’s still some hope for both these teams to get hot at the perfect time and make some March memories.
Oklahoma at Texas Tech (7 p.m./ESPNU)
It’s been a year to forget for the Sooners. One bright spot has been freshman Kameron McGusty, who could become the first Oklahoma player since 1991 to score in double figures in 10 consecutive games if he hits the mark on Saturday against Texas Tech.
SMU at Tulsa (7 p.m./ESPNews)
We should talk more about Shake Milton. All of us. Semi Ojeleye too.
No. 18 Saint Mary’s at San Diego (7 p.m./Spectrum SportsNet)
Can we not get this top-20 team on a real channel? Why does this keep happening? Gonzaga’s always playing on real channels.
Auburn at Alabama (8:30 p.m./SEC Network)
It’s just like the football rivalry except completely different in every conceivable way.
Texas A&M at LSU (9 p.m./ESPNU)
Your weekly LSU DGAF Meter update:
Extremely high.
UC Irvine at Long Beach State (11 p.m./ESPNU)
This is a very down year for the Big West, which features just two teams with records above .500. The best of that elite group is UC Irvine, which sits atop the standings with a 6-2 mark. Plus, their nickname is the Anteaters, so if they make the tournament we all win.
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“The Day the Music Died...”
Typical isn’t it, you start something and then life gets in the way. ‘An entry per event’ he says, ‘I’ll not fall behind, I have loads of free time for this’.
Well it would seem that weddings distract the mind a tad, and take up a fair bit of time. Admittedly for me it was more the former and not so much the latter, as I did absolutely zero to assist in the planning of my own wedding. But here it is, a little later than predicted … and we have a few things to cover … so lock in!
6th February – Committee
I’ve always enjoyed committee meetings, most people find them a hard slog but it’s usually a great excuse for me to get out of the house and chat rubbish for a while. Hartsholmes used to be a real hard slog, but over the last 6-12 months we have had a decent influx of new faces and therefore less of the same people making the same noises (often me and bunny). It has also taken on a surprisingly younger feel, typically club committees are stuffy, old and boring, but we have a pretty decent representation of players and old timers, with a couple of women on board too – what can I say, we truly are an inclusive membership.
So we arrive at ‘the Shed’ (beloved nickname of the club bar) and settle in. We are positioned as usual out of the way around the corner, behind the table football, as it is usually quieter here. The club also doubles up as the social bar for our neighbouring Semi-Professional Football Club as well as being a working man’s club to the local estate.
It was also Smithy’s (Chairman) first meeting in charge and you could tell the old boy wanted it to run smoothly, he clearly has an idea of how he feels these meetings should be run and this was his first chance to stamp a bit of authority and drive the club forward in the manner he sees fit. Fair play to him! It’s exactly what I would have done; never start soft as they will run all over you …. Saying that, I do like the sound of my own voice so for someone in charge to now have the ability to shut me up quicker is a little soul destroying. (I say in charge, we all know it’s just a bull-shit, figure head position, don’t we David ;) …)
This particular meeting flew by, much to my dismay, I could sit there dragging out cricket chat for hours.
With no Dovey (Head of youth) and no Bunny (Treasurer) that was two huge chunks of the meeting unaccounted for, so we could move quickly through the rest. To give you an idea of what a treat this was; Dovey loves a chat, and can make the smallest pointer last half an hour at least (usually the one point no-one cares about too, but he’s old and confused most of the time, so we let him off), and as Bunny holds the purse strings he has a complaint or query about almost everything that may cost us a quid or two.
The only real point of contention arrived when discussing the Sunday team and the playing availability of the youth’s within the club.
Whilst the league allows players from 12 and up to be registered and play in men’s cricket; as a club we let that decision be taken by the youth coaches as to whether they are ready or not.
Due to the lack of player availability for Sunday’s this year I voiced the opinion that should the child be considered old enough by the league and their parents happy for them to play, then we should make them available for selection on the proviso that the standing captain is sensible enough to not put them in danger at any point.
Well ladies and gents …. I was shot down, magnificently.
Apparently the argument of ‘in my day’ and ‘how old were you when you started playing’ or ‘well it did me no harm!’ doesn’t stand up anymore.
The Welfare officer, a beautiful lady by the name of Lisa (ye, I’m creeping here, she scares me), had my pants down! In short we have a reasonability to ensure that as a club we are doing the correct checks with regards to safety, and my laissez-faire attitude is not becoming of a club captain, and I’d better shut up, know my place and leave these matters to those in charge of the children …..
Well! All I can say is, I was very impressed with her style of argument, she put me straight back in my box and I was totally consumed by her aggressive ‘back down now Boz’ eyes throughout … dreamy! (As a side note her husband is also a beaut of a guy).
The only solution I could muster to have my opinion ratified, was that I start coaching more, provide hundreds of hours, therefore having a better knowledge of our kids so that I can personally overlook their transitions into men’s cricket …. Bunny, Its all yours mate, let us know when they are old enough to play!
Well played Lise … Well played … I cross you again at my own peril, Jay, do as you’re told, she’s fierce!
The only other point of note was that AJ decided to type into the minutes a question about where the pro was staying, with an associated action listed - even though this had already been decided ….
Come on man! Don’t give a bloke who has already said yes to taking the over-seas in have an opportunity to back out of it!!!!
Keep your head down, use assumption to ensure that it all stays the same and nothing changes until it’s all too late and he’s stuck with the decision. Politics, shades of grey and manipulation … all key in keeping the club on the right path! I do love a committee meeting.
10th February – Training
A pretty dull session all in all. Everything was smooth and without incident. The numbers were a little down and it seems we have already lost the only new recruit of the winter. Great impression HCC!
I spent the bulk of my time taking catches from the catch-it board.
Quick note; if you are having trouble getting your catch-it board to grip and sit still when used in a sports hall … yoga mat … Stroke of genius!
I bought the thing in good faith, assuming I would be a professional and nimble stretcher within a few days, well I have finally got a use for it!
You total cricketing geeks can thank me later.
The decision was made to cancel next week’s session in assumption of the predicted dwindling numbers - due to a wedding that was inconveniently planned for a Saturday.
17th February – Wedding
This was the day I gave it all up to become a married man … except drinking & cricket of course.
That’s a bit of an over-statement. I gave up on the serious debauchery when my son was born, a ring was never going to change much more. I am old and boring now and go for the ‘shit-faced whilst chatting’ night as opposed to clubbing & shagging (I was cool once, honest).
To be fair the main reason it was happening on this day was purely cricket related. I had full-out refused to get married during the season so as to avoid a game clash. One of two things would have happened, either we would have had no one turn up, or a game would have had to have been forfeited, neither of which were options. So I am sorry Milly, but wrap up for a brisk February wedding … as you may be my love, but you were not my first love … that title belongs solely to cricket.
I will now share with you the drunken views of my special day from our Off-spinner; posted the night before my betrothal.
“I'm pissed, fair enough but tomorrow is emotional! I lose Boz!!! He's been my only posh mate! (Maybe Matthew Wooldridge too but hated him for two years) grew into an adult with that self-righteous middle class wanker! Fucking love you Edward Bosworth hope you cry! Love Stephen!” (Facebook, 17th February 2:22am)
He then followed that up with:
“Shit! Also Milly Gill I actually like you too! So kudos
Yes the wording is majestic and the sentiment from the heart, but my favourite thing about this is the timing, and the insight it gives to the life of Stephen Wilkinson (Sven), HCC 1st XI Off-spinner.
This was posted at 2.22am the night before one of his best friends weddings, he was shit faced and didn’t get to sleep until silly o’clock. What’s more, he then proceeded to post that he still didn’t own a suit but would sort it in the morning. Upon waking at about 10.30am (had to be at the wedding for 12.30pm) he got himself to Debenhams, suited himself up and arrived with plenty of time to spare, with not a hangover in sight. Special kind of person that!
There were many of HCC in attendance; the best man being our wicket-keeper Wooly, who gave a decent speech. Most people had predicted an indifferent effort, what with him having the capacity to be socially awkward and the fact that he can’t hold his drink. But he managed his booze intake well (enough to be interesting, but not so much that he made a prat of himself) and delivered, much to the dismay of his cricketing colleagues.
Other highlights include
HCC’s Chris Millar burning AJ’s Mrs. on the arm with a drunkenly wafted Cigar.
A Rover with a boot full of booze being parked in the car park to avoid the bar (christened the Rovers Return).
HCC’s Nik Green puking in a near enough stranger’s car as he was taken through the back roads of Lincoln on his way home.
During my speech I mention that I am stubborn and obnoxious, HCC players deliver a round of applause.
I, Edward David Bosworth … crying like a little girl during my speech.
It is safe to say that the HCC are my family, which was shown by the amount of players in attendance. The best man being HCC as well as 3 Ushers just adds testimony to that. We also wore green suits with red socks and a pale gold tie in homage to the Hartsholme colors: Red, Gold & Green. Yes the love is THAT real, sorry Milly (She hated the color choice and apparently it was a real pain matching the bridesmaids and flowers etc.)
The drunkest people in attendance were also HCC members …. 1st place going to Wooly. I think it was the relief of having delivered his speech. He ended up with one of my Aussie mates on his shoulders in the middle of the dance floor.
Debate – How to wear my ring during games? … Options – The Strauss, Silicone ring, Take it off altogether … thoughts?
19th- 23rd February - Honeymoon
It never stops …
I’m on my honeymoon and getting involved in emails about the league hand book … do we want an advert in it or not. No one’s fault but my own, I just can’t leave it be. Decision, we do if it’s free!
The HCC what’s app group is also starting to warm up nicely now after the winter lull. Milly is about to slap my phone out of my hand due to my inability to avoid participation in the jokes and help wind Senny up.
24th February - Training
Numbers were boosted slightly this week. Same old shit, different day. You can see why people’s commitment starts to wain a little when it comes to winter nets. We had the foresight to only run one net this week to ensure people weren’t knackered running in for 1 ½ hours. Positives though, it’s good to see the same old faces turn up every week and really put their arses into it. The youths in attendance ran in solidly and trained with purpose, bodes well for the future.
I almost forgot! Bob got smashed in the face, was brilliant! AJ feeding balls into the catch-it, Sven shells one at 1st slip, and parry’s it right up into the face of Bob at 2nd … cue cut lip and grown men pissing themselves at his misfortune.
I tried taping my fingers up properly this week, taking catches for 30/40 minutes solid starts to take its toll on your hands. Unfortunately I decided to do this whilst sat in my car as I was a little early; I then preceded to have a bat before the catching drills … needless to say I sweated, and the tape cracked off in my gloves. Lesson learnt, perhaps more foresight next week.
Last note, good man is Bunny! He spent the whole hour and a half giving throw-downs, drop feeds and bobble feeds to everyone who wanted them. Definitely the way forward at this stage of the season and does far more for your technique and timing than trying to blast a few net bowlers all over the place.
Note – I need to find a way of tightening my helmet, it keeps falling down over my brow as I move out of the crease, very annoying and slightly dangerous! Ends up being batting roulette when added to my failing eyesight!
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