#queuing this for around easter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nyrator · 1 year ago

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Got the Rotten Nyan tumblr queued up with art I've neglected to post on there.. keeping a few more sketchy doodley art still on Twitter/the website, but should be all up a little after midnight my time~

... still feel really self conscious with the kind of content I've been making vent art of lately, please don't be afraid to message me with any concerns or criticisms... I tried tagging it all with a custom warning tag (that way it won't nuke the post, I think...) hopefully that's enough... if not hopefully people let me that as well

In other life news, I'm seeing a therapist, got a job, etc~ More in the cut

So, yeah. Life.

Still a vtuber, but feels like I've stalled lately... Not in terms of growth (if anything I keep growing), but in terms of motivation. I have a list of games to play, but I just can't focus on playing games anymore, it's rough.. mostly do zatsus, but even those are pretty hit or miss and sometimes I spiral into really dumb personal unprofessional rambles...

My art commissions are picking up- more than I can handle, honestly... My clients have gotten pretty big and it's getting me recognition, I have a few big offers in store once I can get around to them and I'm excited about it... but commissions are hard. I'm going to raise prices in January, and I try to accept five a month... but I can't keep up. I can't even do one a month it feels like... And yet I keep getting dozens of requests..

So in spite of this, because of my own doing and lack of doing, I've been bleeding a lot of money. I'm at a dangerous point of money... so I finally got a seasonal job at a local chocolate shop.

Haaaaaaaa.....

It's rough... I was in a huge depression over it, and I still don't want to work... The people are nice, the hours are light, and the pay is better than expected, but it's still so stressful... My social anxiety is terrible lately, it makes me want to curl into a ball and cry. I can't stand it, I can't stand being seen, I can't focus or memorize anything on the register, I can't handle dealing with customers or fast-paced environments...

They say the season lasts until Easter because of the nature of the store, but maybe I'll leave after Christmas time if it doesn't work out.. It's really a pain, and also could affect things like my food stamps and subsidized rent. Plus, the gas I have to spend, the clothes I had to buy, etc etc.. I wonder if it'll be worth it (probably, but nyeh)

I'm in need of money, though... one, my phone is on its last legs. The battery barely lasts an hour, it's very slow and unresponsive, and the 32 GB of storage is becoming more and more unwieldy.. Going to maybe buy one tonight...

My throat is also been a mess lately- I've had trouble swallowing, to the point I was unable to eat anything without a 50-50 chance of just choking on it. Drinking water was like waterboarding, it was like I was drowning. After raising my mattress, it's helped a lot, but not entirely, so I think it's something to do with scarring thanks to acid reflux- been trying to get an endoscopy for a year and finally have one scheduled in mid December. I'm worried how much it might cost.. hoping insurance covers it, but I still had to pay almost a thousand for my colonoscopy a few years back, which terrifies me...

Other small things- items I'd like to own, taking care of Bootsie (she's fine but overdue for a checkup and she's like 13 years old), etc.

But yeah, therapy. Also started taking that- we're trying to avoid me taking any medication, but I'm afraid I might need it.. I see her every week and I've been going since early October, and she seems like a decent therapist- she's the same age as me and understands a lot of internet culture, which.. is weird to talk to someone like that who "gets it" (she's a cosplayer, for example, and knows of vtubers), but it's nice.

Been reliving a lot of past stuffs... Been trying to improve, had some good phases, but fell back apart recently and not sure how far I can really get... keeping my apartment clean is hard, feeding myself is hard, drawing and doing anything is hard. I don't watch any media these days besides some indie vtubers I know, I don't really do much of anything but be depressed.

My biggest issue, as always, is my complex/trauma/whatever you want to call it... I've started trying to embrace it the past year. I've openly admitted to it, I made an alternate Twitter account for vent art of it, etc. But it makes me hate myself so much... It's become an addiction it feels like. Do I let it consume me and fully embrace it, even though it will push people away and make people think worse of me? Even though it will attract strange people who want creepy things from me? Even though it's expensive and gross and exhausting and uncomfortable to manage?

Or do I try to quit cold turkey? Get it all out of my system, and then never talk about it again. Delete the vent account, stop drawing it, stop being paranoid without things to take care of it, and just move on. I don't know. It's a part of me. But I hate it. And I really hate myself for it, it's my biggest tool to hate myself with.

But I've tried to embraced it, and that's what the RN update will have, and I apologize for it. I don't know how to move forward now. Therapy reopened a lot of thoughts about it- it really is a weird trauma, and a lot of it stems from my childhood... I want it gone. I want to be okay and not hurt myself mentally...

But such is life I supposeee. Again, I apologize that most of my art lately has been venting about it.. even if I embrace it, I don't want to be exclusively that kind of artist, you know? It's just one of many aspects. But it's invasive. And I don't want it to be invasive, but I don't know how to handle it.

The main goal of therapy is to get me drawing again. To give me what I've lost- a drive and motivation to continue. It feels like I just go through the motions when I draw. It's awful. I can't picture anything, no ideas. Rotten Nyan is completely stagnant lately. I don't know what to do about it. Life is just empty and depressing, it feels like. I gave up on myself, and now I don't know how to un-give up. But that's what therapy's for. Hopefully it helps... She brought up medication again, and I wonder if I should try it at this rate...

My anxiety is very bad. I end up relying on my complex trauma coping methods a lot when anxious. It's embarrassing and gross. And it just fuels my anxiety more using those things. I can't stand driving, or being around people, or crowded situations. I can't handle stress, or excitement, or being praised, or anything. My nerves are shot and I just have to curl into a ball. I don't know how I'm going to improve, but I have to try...

And then my focus, which I just can't focus at all anymore.. I don't know if it's depression/anxiety, ADHD, or what, but I just can't focus at all. It's awful. Very forgetful, very not-able-to-draw.

Otherwise, not much different. Got the new Nagata Kabi manga (I still worry about her a lot... she's so relatable though, she speaks to me, but she flares my anxiety like crazy too...) Still obsessed with my Disney anime boy gacha game, it's great, Vil's great. Vil, Cater, Lilia, Jade... so many good characters....

I guess that's all for now. Hope everyone has a happy thanksgiving- will keep doing what I can to try to improve.

And again, I'm really sorry about my art output and that most of it is just gross vent art about a gross personal trauma... I'm sorry...

#text stuffs

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jow99 · 2 years ago

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Happy Easter 🐣

Saturday morning we headed out for our usual rides - Jose with the group and me solo. My ride started out fine, I was getting along nicely and it was a beautiful day - a few photos, all good. Then I changed my mind about my route and got lost. After about 10km of going around in circles I retraced my steps and by now the wind had picked up. After a hard slog home I was not the happiest of campers.

Jose group were out doing their usual beating themselves to a pulp and unfortunately towards the end, a bit tired one of their group had a crash. Carted off in an ambulance with a broken femur. Me thinks we should have stayed in bed 😂

While we were out we left the Mums making torrijas (Spanish style French toast, an Easter treat) for tomorrow.

A quiet afternoon watching the final stage of the Tour of the Basque Country before our Welsh friends, Becky and Nigel came over for a drink.

Dinner at home tonight and an early evening for everyone.

No alarms, a relaxed start to Easter Sunday. For breakfast we had the non alcoholic torrijas with cinnamon and sugar and exchanged Easter chocolates 😋

Later in the morning we went for a stroll. I was quite surprised by how many shops, etc were open. It makes sense because the place is heaving with holiday makers, but given it’s a religious holiday I thought everything would be shut 🤷‍♀️

Coffee, a little bit of shopping, a pre drink - not a bad way to spend a morning, except for poor Jose who was queuing for our pre-ordered Easter cake (which thankfully was a great hit).

Back home for nibbles and bubbles while the roast cooked for lunch and of course, watching Paris Roubaix. By the time we finished lunch it was probably around 4pm.

Dinner consisted of the sherry soaked torrijas and more of the Easter cake and a few more drinks. Well it is a day of celebration 😉. Needless to say it was a fairly early night. A very happy Easter.

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xx--ofmanythoughts--xx · 8 months ago

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🐉 ✨ Hello, my beauties! I hope those who celebrate it had a wonderful Easter and a beautiful Sunday. Mine was quiet, which I enjoyed. But now tomorrow brings a new work week and I really need to find a way to retire so I can stay at home with my dogs, writing and maybe work part time. LOL Or win the lottery...

But alas, I must go to work.

I have some replies typed up but now queued. I have some replies written that I need to type up and queue. I have some asks done but if you so desire leave me love by sending memes/asks.

I hope everyolne has a great weekend and I will be around after work. Love to you all.

#✘ hᴀʙɪᴛs bᴇᴇɴ bᴜsᴛɪɴɢ mʏ bᴏɴᴇs : ( ooc )#out of tea

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bcforedcwn · 2 years ago

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hi guys just a little heads up, I already run basically on queue, but this whole week, will be queued. I got a good chunk of replies done, and for my sanity, they will be coming out slower. Some I might pop in here and there, but I am working 50+ hrs of work before I even hit friday. Then its followed up by me visiting family for Easter Friday - Sunday. I’ll try and be around. Please don’t let this to deter any one for wanting to plot or send me things, but I want to let you all know it will be extremely slow. Goodnight lovelies!

#other brain: ooc

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handlewithcare-delicate · 29 days ago

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My first thought after was "i have never experienced anything like this. And i dont think i ever will again". Now that was partly because the previews are of course done up a lot more than the day to day operations (the spooky actors come to mind) and crowds were smaller and very respectful, but it was mostely the attraction itself that sollicited that response.

Its hard to describe the experience even if you can spoil it, but ill try to avoid spoilers anyway.

The vibe when you enter the area is immaculate, very closed of and you really feel immersed in the theme, though this effect may be less when the fences are removed and max&moritz is more visible (and audible lol).

The building is even more imposing as you're standing next to it, and there's a lot more set dressing around to keep you immersed. The Kabinet der Vermisden and Broeder Gijs are great touches. I was particularly relieved to hear that the wailing of Gijs, which in other areas of the parc can admittedly be a bit annoying, was voiced in a way that suited the creepy vibe, so that didn't undermine the vibe at all.

The queuing area was nice, although i think my experience was vastly improved by there being very little wait time. This has all been public knowledge for a while now so I feel comfortable sharing, but if you wish you can skip this part, just skip to the line.

The Kruysgang, which is the first area, i can see being a little boring, as it's just a simple switchback queue with very little theming. The Kruydentuin, which is the next area, holds fewer people, is a much more interesting place to wait.

They make you wait in the Kruydentuin, as there is a gate between it and the graveyard. They allow the same number of people that fit into one show into the graveyard at the time. I personally was worried that Danse Macabre wouldn't have a preshow, as the building didn't seem to have a dedicated space for it, but the preshow is actually in the graveyard, although it is just a simple audio explanation, which might make the experience a little worse for international guest, who wont be able to get most of the lore. After this you enter the last outdoor part of the queue, after which you will be grouped. You get send through one or six corridors, corresponding with the six choir benches. The last area where you wait is very dark and spooky, and they play a lot of familiar audio clips, including the laughing of the Indische Geest and the wailing of the Jammerende man, which was a cool easter egg.

__________________

I won't describe the ride itself, but i will say this: I was really nervous the new ride system would be uncomfortable or that it would be nauseating, but it wasn't at all. To be honest, I forgot about the ride system a few times while i was on it. Apparently people have been complaining about the noise the ride system itself makes, saying it can be heard over the music, but that might have been a technical error that was fixed by the time i was there, because i didn't notice that at all. It was very smooth, not nauseating at all. I felt like i was flying. It was awesome. It was thrilling, but not too much. The movements weren't too sudden. The show programming was great. There was a lot happening, but with the way we moved, I felt like I was able to see most of it (though I definitely need to go back, as it sounds like the show programming might change still, and there was a certain element that i won't mention here that wasn't operational the day i went).

Oh my god. The animatronics. You didn't want spoilers, so i won't say much but. They are SMOOTH.

The LIGHTING.

THE AMBIENCE.

THE MUSIC.

Last but not least, the gift shop was nice too. I wasn't able to look around much as it was very busy, but that which I did see was very cool, and the selection of merchandise was good too, a stuff people would actually want to buy. I stuck with the necessities myself, just the shirt and the pins, of course.

Another thing I can't leave out is the personnel. Of very used to Efteling personnel being happy and jovial, but in Danse Macabre they're a bit in character, as they're all very serious and somber. Instead of "have fun", they say "sterkte", lol. They were all going along with it, the troopers. Shoutout to them, it really added to the experience.

TLDR: amazing ride, amazing experience, still needs a little tweaking, but that's expected, 10/10 recommend, but boy, am I glad that I was in before the crowds.

WITHOUT SPOILING ANYTHING AT ALL

what's danse macabre like?

and please be as vague about it as possible, I want to hype myself up but also go in completely blind so don't tell me anything specific, preferably something like "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'M GONNA PLASTER MYSELF BEHIND WALLPAPER" whether that's positive or negative

i just really want to hear y'alls first impressions because i cant wait another week but unfortunately scheduling is forcing me to

#vraag mij niet naar de Efteling als je niet klaar bent voor een infodump #hoe ironisch is het dat terwijl ik dit typte een kat begon te mauwen voor mijn voordeur...girl het onnoembare D:#e #spoilers #danse macabre spoilers #danse macabre spoiler #<voor als mensen helemaal niks willen horen #excuus als dit wel dingen spoilt die je nog niet wist :(

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cheri-translates · 3 years ago

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[CN] Gavin’s Torrential Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 激流之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

✧ Text before the date: here

[ Released in CN: 27 April 2022 ]

[ 1 ]

A few gauze-like clouds drift in the air. Sunlight filters through the dense leaves, leaving mottled traces on the ground.

Gavin and I are sitting beneath the shade of trees, occasionally looking at the crowded queue at the entrance of the amusement park.

An employee is standing nearby and holding onto my identification details. Even after a long time, nothing seems to happen.

I release a sigh. As the day turns brighter, the temperature climbs upwards as well. Just as I’m about to retrieve a sheet of tissue to wipe my sweat away, a breeze suddenly rushes over.

Lifting my head amidst the coolness, I meet Gavin’s smiling eyes.

Gavin: Feeling a little more comfortable now?

MC: Mm~ This breeze is the first good thing that has happened today...

Gavin: We have been a little unlucky today.

MC: Yeah. There was a traffic jam when we headed out, the expressway was sealed off, and our alternative route was undergoing repairs... If you hadn’t flown me over for the final stretch of the journey, I’d have no idea what time we’d be here. And when we finally reached the entrance, there were issues with the face recognition system, and I was the only one who “won the grand prize”...

Gavin tousles my hair while making the breeze slightly stronger.

Gavin: Since this is a new amusement park, we weren’t able to prepare sufficiently beforehand. Let’s treat this as a learning experience so that we can plan our itinerary better next time.

MC: Mm! Oh yes, speaking of our itinerary, which attraction are we going to try first?

Gavin: Anything-

MC: I’ll say this upfront - you aren’t allowed to say the words, “Anything’s fine”.

Gavin: ...

Gavin seems to stifle his laughter as he takes the guidebook from my hands.

Gavin: “Extreme Pirate Ship - Three Stars”, “Super Cycle Rollercoaster - Four Stars”... These adrenaline-inducing attractions seem pretty good. Why don’t we try... this one.

He points at the top right corner of the map.

Gavin: “The Flume Ride”. It has five stars on the adrenaline scale, and there’s a mysterious Easter egg we could explore.

MC: That’s what I thought too~ Let’s go for that then. We can cool down too!

The moment I finish speaking, the employee responsible for checking our tickets runs over from afar. He waves at us, then points at the gantry machine at the entrance.

Gavin: Looks like the problem’s resolved.

Gavin stores the guidebook away, then takes my hand.

Gavin: Let’s go. We’ll head straight to The Flume Ride.

[ 2 ]

MC: Two hours?!

Widening my eyes in disbelief, I point at the “120″ on the board, verifying it again.

MC: We truly picked a “popular” attraction...

Aside from us, a couple standing in front is clearly fretting over the length of the queue as well.

Man: Are we really going to join the queue?

Woman: Of course! I heard that The Flume Ride is exceptionally tall, so it’s worth the wait!

At this moment, shrill cries drifts from not too far away. Along with the sound of splashing water, the shrill cries turn into unrestrained laughter.

Woman: Did you hear that?! It’d be such a waste not to try this.

As the sound of laughter dies down, Gavin asks a question.

Gavin: Are we queuing?

“It’d be such a waste not to try this” - this phrase twirls around my ears for a very long time. I lift my head to meet Gavin’s eyes, then give him a wink.

MC: If we’re considering efficiency, we should try another attraction. But... I remember what you said when we queued for the Ferris wheel during the carnival - “After all, we’re already here.” Right now, I find that such a reason is extremely useful and practical.

[Note] This is a reference from the 4th Anniversary Carnival!

The way I justify myself causes Gavin’s smile to deepen. He doesn’t expose me, but simply turns me around by the shoulders, pushing me into the passageway.

Gavin: That’s right. Since we’re already here, let’s join the queue.

The incredibly long queue has stretched to the outdoor area, and the gradually spiking temperature causes everyone to feel a little restless and wanting to queue indoors sooner to enjoy the air-conditioning.

Before I can take a few steps forward, Gavin suddenly pulls me behind him.

MC: Hm?

Gavin’s broad back blocks the incoming sunlight, and he doesn’t turn his head.

Gavin: I’m shielding you from the sun.

MC: Pfft... But it’s difficult to talk to you like this.

Gavin chokes. Then, he turns around and walks backwards.

Gavin: How about this?

MC: This is just right!

Just like this, I walk in Gavin’s shadow as we inch forward slowly in the queue. All of a sudden, there’s a commotion from the front.

MC: What’s wrong? Are they closing off the queue...?

I peek my head out to look, only to see a few people leaving the queue in succession and running off in a particular direction.

At this moment, an employee walks over to us.

Employee: May I know if you’re queuing up alone?

Gavin: We’re together.

Employee: That’s great! As of now, our amusement park is still in the testing phase and our facilities for helping visitors deal with the heat aren't ready. For that, I apologise to the both of you. As a compensation, we have opened a small ice-cream stand next door, and you can claim two free ice-creams with this stamp on your hand.

The employee points in the direction where the group of people rushed off earlier.

Employee: One of you can remain in the queue while the other collects them.

Gavin ponders over this. Then, he gives our interlaced hands to the employee.

Gavin: I’ll stay in the queue. You can collect them.

After the employee leaves heart-shaped stamps on the back of our hands, I rush towards the small ice-cream stand.

However, my excitement instantly dips when I see the long queue in front of the small stand.

MC: Why is this queue so long too..

[ 3 ]

Although the queue for ice-cream progresses much more quickly than the queue for The Flume Ride, queueing up alone leaves me feeling slightly impatient.

Wanting to divert my attention, I take out my phone. However, the information that I come across doesn’t enter my head at all. After scrolling through a few websites, I put it back into my bag.

MC: I wonder how Gavin’s passing the time...

I turn my head in Gavin’s direction, wanting to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. Unexpectedly, my line of sight happens to meet a pair of amber eyes.

Gavin, who always stands with his back straight, is currently leaning against the railing with his arms overlapping.

Brilliant sunlight pours down on him, creating a golden glow which makes him appear more gentle.

He’s holding my handbag, swaying it aimlessly. Only his eyes remain fixed in one direction.

He’s looking at me.

The moment our eyes meet, a rare sliver of unhappiness surfaces in Gavin’s eyes.

He waves at me, moving his lips slightly.

Gavin: I’m… so… bored…

I burst into laughter, mouthing a response to him.

MC: Me… too…

There’s a sweetness in my heart, and all I want to do is find a photo frame to seal this adorable moment. I can’t help but tease him.

Lifting my hand towards him, I form a tiny heart with my fingers.

Gavin doesn’t seem to understand my action, and he tilts his head slightly.

As such, I stretch out both hands, gesturing as if I’m shooting an arrow. Mouthing along with my action, I “shoot” the little heart in his direction.

MC: This... is... for... you...

Realisation dawns on Gavin. He pauses for a moment, as though thinking about something. Then, he lifts the back of his hand.

He “catches” the invisible heart, then blows on the heart-shaped stamp on the back of his hand.

A gentle breeze drifts over from afar, and it feels as though a tiny heart has been printed onto my cheek.

Beneath his bright gaze, I find myself covering my cheek. Perhaps due to the hot weather, the skin pressed against my palm feels warm too.

Before I can think of how to respond to Gavin, both queues suddenly begin to move.

We immediately retract our hands. Then, we mouth words to each other at the same time.

Gavin: I’ll... wait... for... you...

MC: Wait... for... me...

MC: Sorry, excuse me...

I squeeze through the queue with an ice-cream in each hand. All of a sudden, my hands are empty as someone takes the ice-creams from me.

MC: ...Gavin!

A soft chuckle drifts to my ears. With a lift of my head, I see a handsome face that I couldn’t be more familiar with.

Gavin: You kept me waiting for a long time.

MC: It wasn’t that long, was it? Wasn’t I only in the queue for ten minutes?

Gavin: Ten minutes is already very long.

MC: Ten minutes is very long? We still have another hour of queueing to go!

Gavin: That’s different.

Gavin smiles as he bumps our ice-creams together, akin to a “cheers”.

Gavin: When I’m waiting with you, I feel a sense of anticipation.

MC: Pfft... that’s true! In that case, let’s try the ice-creams that we’ve been anticipating for a very long time!

I take a lick of the ice-cream. The ice-cold cream melts on the tip of my tongue, mixed with chunks of strawberries. In an instant, the heat seems to be dispelled completely.

MC: It’s delicious!

Wanting to share it with Gavin immediately, I bring the ice-cream to Gavin’s mouth. Gavin lowers his head, then takes a bite.

Gavin: Tastes pretty good. The strawberry flavour is very strong, but you won’t get tired of it. Want to try mine?

Gavin brings his ice-cream over to my mouth. After taking a bite, my eyes widen in surprise.

MC: Huh? This taste...

Gavin: Doesn’t it taste like the coconut ash ice-cream we had along Floral Road the day before yesterday?

MC: Yes yes yes! I was just about to say that the taste was a little familiar, but couldn’t remember where I ate it... I didn’t expect you to be an ice-cream connoisseur~

Gavin: We had to queue for a long time for the coconut ash ice-cream, so I have a pretty deep impression of it.

MC: At least the ice-cream we had was worth it. It was terrible when I queued up alone the previous time...

Gavin: Hm?

MC: I wanted to buy fried yogurt, but for some reason ended up in the wrong queue. In the end, I bought half a pressed duck with soy sauce!

Gavin: You’re a little better off than Eli. The last time, he wanted to join the queue for a blood donation. In the end, he somehow registered to become a volunteer for his residential community.

While we eat our ice-creams, our conversation strays. The queue slowly inches towards the indoor area, and we can hear the sound of gurgling water...

Without realising it, we reach an area reminiscent of a cavern, and we’re standing at the frontmost of the queue.

MC: One hour and thirty seven minutes. That’s earlier than expected!

Gavin: You’ve been keeping track of the time?

MC: Of course. These are time costs. If the attraction isn’t thrilling enough after we had to queue for such a long time, hmph... I’d write a bad review when I get home!

Gavin: Okay, let’s see if it lives up to its reputation.

[ 4 ]

Two minutes later, we successfully board the boat. Gavin checks my safety belt, then helps me to put on a transparent rain poncho.

Gavin: Nervous?

MC: Of course not!

The boat begins to move, following the tracks as it makes a gradual ascent. The moment we leave the cave, the boat accelerates as it courses along the water.

The scenery on both sides speeds past quickly. I stretch out my arms and release a shout, enjoying the thrill that such speed brings.

Very soon, the boat reaches the tipping point, and the clouds rush past.

Then, the boat twirls as it slams against the sides. To our surprise, a column of water sprays from a wall, and water flowers splash onto us.

Gavin: How was that?

Gavin winks at me, water droplets gliding down his eyelashes and onto his cheeks.

MC: It wasn’t as thrilling as I imagined. After experiencing so many rides with you, my “threshold” is really high now.

Gavin: Is that so... How about this?

All of the sudden, the world turns pitch black. A hand covers my eyes, and all I can see are fragments of light from the gaps between his fingers.

MC: Gavin!

Gavin: Is this thrilling enough?

There’s a rich smile in Gavin’s voice, and I can almost imagine the broad smile on his lips right now.

His broad palm is pressed against my skin. In the darkness, my heart speeds up uncontrollably.

Gavin: Get ready...

All of a sudden, my vision is restored. The moment Gavin retracts his hand, the boat happens to fall from a near-vertical drop point.

MC: AHHHH!

While screaming, I grip Gavin’s hand. He returns my grip with strength, laughing to his heart’s content.

The boat wobbles in the water before stabilising again.

Before I can catch my breath, the boat makes an abrupt turn, entering a new “cavern”.

The currents become slower, and the boat decreases in speed, floating on the surface of water in a leisurely manner.

MC: Is that it?

Gavin: Nope. I think it’s still moving forward... MC, do you see that door on the right?

MC: Yeah, but we seem to be turning towards the left...

The cavern is dark and visibility is limited. However, being in such an environment sharps my sense of hearing.

MC: The sound of birds chirping...?

I look towards the source of the sound, but there’s nothing on the right aside from a stone wall... wait.

I realise that there’s a protruding image of a bird on the stone wall, and the dampness and roughness of this stone wall is different from the others.

MC: Gavin, could this be the “mysterious Easter egg” mentioned in the guidebook?

I give Gavin a quizzical glance, and discover that our eyes are both shining with the same determined light.

MC: Let’s give it a try!

The moment I press the “button”, a mechanical buzzing can be heard in the surroundings.

The water currents abruptly change in direction. The boat spins at the split path, then heads towards the right!

The tightly shut door opens with a loud rumble, and light blooms from within.

Everything becomes clear before my eyes. In contrast to the deep and serene mountain cavern from earlier, we seem to have arrived at a floating layer of clouds.

The little boat is akin to an “airship” in the clouds, drifting slowly in the air along transparent glass tracks.

As the boat makes its gradual ascent along the tracks, a few “white clouds” glide alongside us.

I peek downwards in curiosity. Through the ripples, I can see a boundless ocean of flowers beneath the clouds.

MC: So pretty...

Although I’m aware that the beautiful scenery is a simulation, I can’t help but feel my emotions stirring.

MC: I didn’t expect the hidden path in the mountain cavern to bring us into the “sky”! It feels like we’re flying...

Gavin: Are you still going to leave a bad review?

MC: I’ll definitely give a five-star review! If the queue wasn’t that long, I’d love to do this again and see where the left path leads to!

Gavin: In that case, shall we leave the exploration of the left path till next time?

MC: Mm! Next time, I’ll definitely prepare an incredibly complete strategic guide-

Before I can finish speaking, a breeze suddenly courses past. A sky full of flower petals dance lightly in the air, as though sending visitors off.

The “airship”, which has been ascending all this time, stops at what seems to be the peak.

MC: Gavin, I think it’s going to- AHHHHHHHH!

Gavin: Hold on tight!

Before I can finish, the boat suddenly plunges into a rapid dive. The scenery is tossed behind us, and we once again lunge towards an outdoor track.

My screams are intermittent in the wind, but this doesn’t stop joy from spreading to every cell in my body.

The boat continues increasing in speed, welcoming the steep descent. At the same time, spouts of water from the tracks launch attacks on us!

Whoosh!

Curtains of water crisscross as they splash onto us. I have absolutely no way to ward them off, and I instinctively throw myself into Gavin’s arms.

He hugs me even more tightly, becoming a protective umbrella shielding me from the curtains of water. In this small and narrow world, his powerful heartbeats seem to be the only things I can hear.

Gavin’s hearty laughter drifts to my ears. Amidst the cool and refreshing water vapour, this warmth is exceptionally clear.

Gavin: Aren’t you going to hug me tighter? We’re going to sink!

Not caring about anything else, I quickly wrap my arms tightly around Gavin. In the next moment, the boat dips abruptly. Just before it sinks completely, it wobbles back to the surface.

I wipe the water droplets off my face. Looking at an equally soaked Gavin, I burst into laughter.

MC: We’ve become “Drenched MC” and “Drenched Gavin”~

Gavin chuckles as he shakes his head in resignation. Beads of water on the tips of his hair trickle downwards, gliding down the open collar of his rain poncho and blending into his drenched shirt.

Gavin: Cough... I finally understand why it was given five stars...

After a moment, the boat begins moving again as it sends us towards the end.

The lush greenery on both sides of the tracks and the cooling water vapour blend to form a pleasant fragrance.

Water flowers sparkle, lapping against the sides of the boat gently, as though tapping along with my joyful heart.

Gavin: Are there any problems now that our clothes are a little wet?

I shake my head, but feel familiar air currents climbing up the corners of my clothes, enveloping me with warmth.

I remove the buttons of my rain poncho in understanding, stretching out my arms.

MC: Let’s leave quickly. All I want to do now is see if the other attractions are as interesting!

Gavin removes his rain poncho. As he tidies his drenched fringe, he shows me a beaming smile.

Gavin: Anything’s fine. There are definitely more interesting things than the wind, ice-cream and the Flume Ride.

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 3 years ago

Text

Ain’t nothing...

When - the morning after Too much thinking before bed, Parts 1 and 2. We’re still at the CDC, so still in episode TS-19. One more story after this and we outie, promise.

Relationships - you and the gang! But for real, why do you and Daryl keep squabbling?

Perspective - 2nd person

Genre - happy group stuff, some acknowledgment of trauma. There’s also a tiny wee Easter Egg.

Pronouns - none used, but you do play with Andrea’s hair some

TWs - other than the aforementioned acknowledgement of trauma, there’s some language.

Word Count - take a dive and see! And there are pics all over the place.

If you would like the Masterlist to read the other parts to the Slowpoke Series, here’s the Masterlist, friends.

“Hey man, I queued up Ramble On for you.” You’re being annoying on purpose.

Glenn just groans in response.

Holding up an earbud, you pretend to act confused. “Why you grumblin’? It’s your favorite song.”

He groans again, head down, eyes shut. “No more noise in my earballs.”

“‘Earballs?’ You still drunk?” you razz, wiping your hand with your napkin.

T-Dog (apologies, this morning he is The Breakfast King) then calls out from the stove “Alright, who wants more bacon?”

Among the treasures stored down there, he’d found canned bacon, powdered milk, powdered eggs, canned orange juice concentrate (plus a whole bunch of Sunny D), that ‘shelf-stable cheese stuff,’ oatmeal, grits, farina, wheat flour, corn four, raisins, canned fruit, and some little jello cups, too.

Plus a ton of condiments like ketchup, barbecue sauce, pancake syrup, and Old Bay seasoning. The rest you don’t quite remember (because it’s boring, like MREs and things like rice, pickled beets, and miscellaneous varieties of canned vegetables and beans), but you already knew that there were grits and corn flour – both of which can be used to make hush puppies!

A person can dream, can’t they?

Not to mention: Dr. Jenner also left some pills for everyone. Hangover pills. Interesting little things, they contained ginger, dandelion root, artichoke, milk thistle, naproxen sodium, and “What’s di-hydro-my-ricetin?”

“Hangover magic,” so T-Dog (sorry, Breakfast King) explained.

The King deigned to make eggs and bacon with spinach and baked beans for you all (yes, baked beans. For breakfast). “Our people need some protein, some iron, and some fiber – and the doc is gonna faint when he tastes how good I make these eggs,” he’d just about sang this morning when he was pulling out the ingredients.

You’d awoken early (and freezing! What a change), even after staying up way later last night than intended. That’s okay though, you’d gotten a self-defense refresher course and could just nap in a few hours if you got sleepy or got another migraine.

But that brother of yours barely slept a wink. He was definitely gonna need more rest, especially with that hangover. You’re surprised that Shane still found it in him to drag himself out of bed to do his morning exercises.

Bundling yourself up in your sweatshirt and shoving your music player in your pocket (still over ¾ charged), you first headed to the sink in one of the bathrooms to brush your teeth and carefully wash off Amy’s walkie-talkie.

Well, not... not “Amy’s” anymore, you realized – then cried. And that feeling of her blood still being on your hand from when you’d pressed your fingers to stop the bleeding had come back. Weird, right?

You scrubbed and scrubbed, but the feeling was so...real. And it just wouldn’t come off.

When your tears had dried, you splashed some water on your face, swallowed your guilt, washed your hands a final time to try and get rid of that feeling. Finally activating that heat pack for your bruise, you exited the bathroom and wandered around.

Upon entering the kitchen, you found T-Dog in seventh heaven as he mulled over the ingredients (“I love all y’all, but don’t offer to help cook. I’ll kick you right out.”), while Jacqui and Dale sat at the table doing the crossword together. Andrea sat quietly beside them with something hot to drink, so you joined them all and played with Andrea's hair, off and on pressing the heat pack to your jaw. It really was sore.

Andrea still looked empty. And after what Dale more or less revealed last night about her “struggles with going on,” you wanted to keep her engaged, at least a little. Especially considering it’s your fault she’s like this you swallow back. Anyways, by then you’d been useless at guessing the crossword clues for a good ten minutes.

“Your drink smells kinda chocolatey, Andrea.”

“Double caffeine mocha.”

Your eyes flit over to where T-Dog did a little dance as he tasted a sample of what was in the frying pan. “Teddy make that for you?”

A slight nod. “He used chocolate syrup and instant coffee. Have a sip.”

“My but that man is a catch,” you declared, absently wiping your hand again before you tried a taste and winked at Andrea. You were rewarded with a tiny smile, and that was enough.

And also, don’t worry, T-Dog wasn’t able to hear you at that moment; the pan was sizzling and he was singing a little as he cooked. You didn’t expect his song of choice to switch from Death Came A-Knocking to If I Were a Rich Man, but that just made you smile all the more.

Dale tapped his pencil on the table a few times. “‘H.S. diplomacy simulation?’ What do you think, Jacks, it has to be something to do with ‘debate club’, no? But only seven letters.”

“Try ‘model U.N.’” Jacqui smoothly guessed, eyes never leaving their spot as she filled in another answer. “Now, do you know anything about football, Dale?”

“Ah...I would say that I’m better aware of baseball or soccer...”

“If it ain’t basketball, I ain’t too interested neither,” she gently giggled, then asked him anyways. “Any idea who might the the ‘NFL signal caller?’ Only three letters, so it’s prolly an abbreviation...wait a minute. Say, Theodore!” she called to him loudly.

“Yes ma’am?” he calls back.

“‘NFL signal caller?’”

“Did you try ‘quarterback,’ sister?” he tutted, cracking up and shaking his head.

“Thank you, baby!” Jacqui called to him. “Abbreviated Q-B-S.”

Andrea then stood up and told you quietly that she was going to see if T-Dog needed any non-cooking help. “I don’t like feeling unproductive,” she mumbled as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

Andrea was right, best be productive. You got up and began to set the table for when everyone else joined, but were glad that you could still hear Jacqui and Dale work together.

“Which entails this letter here must be a u if it’s after a q. Alright, 58 across is: ‘Jackie Brown director’s given name.’ Oh, I saw that, I liked that movie! But cannot for the life of me...Alright, boy’s names what begin with QU...”

“Quintus?” Dale mused. “Wait a moment, I know the man’s surname, it’s ah, Duffy, is it not? The same man who made Boondock Saints?”

“No, different man,” Andrea answered simply, coming back to the table with a pitcher of what must have been milk and a small bowl filled with beans. You still can’t believe that Teddy genuinely decided to serve a can of beans with breakfast.

“I’m gonna work on the words around this one, I think...” Jacqui decided to herself.

“You’ve seen it, too Andrea?”

She tried to smile back at Dale, as much as it was obvious that she struggled to do so. “Did I ever.” She placed the bowl and pitcher down gently. “I thought both of the actors who played the brothers were cute. Must’ve seen in it the theater three times with my girlfriends.”

“Quite a wild ride in some instances and rather gratuitous,” he shared. “But I,” then his cheeks turned pink as he cracked up. “I found that I enjoyed the film so much, I went out and purchased it the same day it came out on VHS.”

“Hell yeah, that movie was the shit, old man,” came a raspy voice from the doorway. Only one person that could be.

On auto-pilot, you greeted him “G’morning Daryl,” as you finished laying out the forks.

“And that means you must know the answer, Andrea.”

“No hints out of me, Dale,” she said, seeming to have warmed up somewhat. “He did the Kill Bill series,” she whispers to him, who seems to have a light bulb moment that promptly turns back off.

So close!

Jacqui nodded to herself in recognition while closing her eyes trying to remember. “Wait, the last name is Terrance...Tarulino...Tarantello...oh, Lord, where is my brain this morning?” She shook her head and switched gears. “He, um, he’s the same man who made Inglorious Basterds last year. Strike any bells?”

“Y’all talking about that Pulp Fiction dude?”

“Yes, that’s it! Quentin Tarantino! Thank you, Daryl,” Jacqui shouted cordially, smiling with satisfaction at him before continuing with the next clue. Dale and yourself grinned at this, but Daryl seemed in between annoyed and confused, since he technically hadn’t given her the answer. Or knew what the context for any of it was.

Also, he appeared to be a little...shy, if that way he started to walk into the room with his head bent lower than usual was any indication.

Cool poncho, though.

“I can’t believe I forgot the man’s name!” Dale goes on. “Believe it or not, Kill Bill was one of Irma’s favorites. I’m not fond of how much language and blood are in his films, but they are an exciting experience.”

You glanced over at Daryl as he came closer – hey, he’d showered! His hair was damp. “Moment of truth, Daryl: hot or cold shower?”

“...Almost froze my damn balls off.” Ah, that explained the poncho, or whatever the right word for it was. And that’s what he used as a blanket last night, you’re fairly certain.

As you reined in your snort, he seemed to perk up. Sniffing the air and leaning closer to the table, he mumbled to no one in particular “Yo, them beans smell amazin’.”

As you wiped your hand again to try and get rid of that feeling, you felt a light tapping on your arm and saw that he had done so with the back of his hand. He begins to say “Hey, um –”

“– Good morning, everyone,” Carol softly announced, immediately joining you in setting the table. She smoothly murmured into your ear “What did you and Shane get up to? The last thing I heard was your footsteps going down the hall, but I could’ve sworn I’d heard shouts sometime before.”

“We went over self-defense lessons, believe it or not. You didn’t hear us too loud, right? We did get a little huffy.”

“Didn’t hear anything specific, I just sort of, um,” she bit her lip. “I guess I have an ear for that sort of thing, sometimes.”

In the middle of that sentence Sophia and Carl flurried into the kitchen, full of excitement because they smelled “Bacon?” closely followed by Lori who closed her eyes and inhaled upon smelling the coffee.

“Mr. Douglas, you have outdone yourself.”

“I’ve been telling y’all: Breakfast King,” T-Dog beamed back, walking over with a pan of scrambled eggs and a smaller pot of – no way, he made some grits, too? Holy Moses, were those cheesy grits?

“Little man, please carry over the plate of bacon,” he directed at Carl. And to Sophia “Little lady, you please grab the small pan there of sauteed spinach. All y’all are gonna eat your veggies this morning!”

Smiling and shaking her head, Lori then asked the room “And where’s our host? That doctor deserves all the thanks we can offer.”

She looked miles better than last night. It was so unlike her, how she’d behaved when you caught her crying; not meeting your eyes, flinching when you casually touched her arm.

It was a weird night. And it was weird that when she saw you this morning, she appeared to become almost alarmed and quickly looked around as if for someone else. Relaxing, she gave you a quick pat on the shoulder and said “Good morning, Y/N. Sleep okay? How’s that bruise treating you?”

“Didn’t wake up in a moth-covered tent,” you offer. “You?”

“Didn’t wake up to my son playing with grandaddies like they’re pets.”

You crack up (why Carl was so fascinated with daddy long legs, you’ll never know), and very quietly add “Sorry for interruptin’ a good cry last night.”

She repeats “It was nothing” before you even finish the sentence. That made you want to know even more about why she was acting so oddly about it, but you leave it at that.

Soon, almost everyone was eating around the table. “Almost” because T-Dog is still cooking and is, surprisingly, allowing Sophia and Carol to assist him, and Daryl apparently sees fit to pace around with his bowl of beans instead of taking a seat. He never did finish asking you whatever he was going to.

And yes, he chose to eat a bowl of baked beans for breakfast, by the way. He and T-Dog, as it turns out, both enjoy theirs sticky-sweet and barbecued. And at breakfast.

Whatever made them happy – you’d simply felt relief to watch little at that moment when they both saw that the other had drizzled pancake syrup, hot sauce, and crumbled bacon on top.

“Who’d have thought you and I would bond over beans, brother,” T-Dog had cracked, taking a big spoonful off his own plate with one hand as he whisked some more powdered eggs with the other.

Then Glenn at last slumped in, shuffling and groaning as he trudged to an open seat. If he wasn’t shielding his eyes from the lights and trying to mumble “Morning” to everyone, you’d almost think he was a walker.

Oof, you shook that thought from your head good and quick and prayed to God that that would never happen, before wiping your hand again because the sensation got really bad when you pictured that.

Carl nudged you while he held in his giggle. “He’s ‘hung-over,’ right?” he whispered.

“Very.” A nod at Lori. “Was it your mama who taught you what that meant?”

“Yeah. She said dad will be, too.”

“As will Uncle Shane.”

“She said they’re sort of like your migraines?”

“I hear they share some similarities, munchkin.”

“Munchkin?”

“Sorry, meant ‘punk.’”

You and he looked back across the table to where Jacqui was encouraging Glenn to sip some black coffee and swallow two of the hangover pills. “One of the similarities is that there can be sensitivity to light and sound,” you murmured to Carl, definitely not with a wicked little grin on your face and certainly not planning to demonstrate this or to annoy Glenn or anything…

“Hey man, I queued up Ramble On for you!” you called over to him. Who just groaned in response.

Holding up an earbud, you pretended to act confused. “Why you grumblin’? It’s your favorite song.”

Glenn groaned again, head down, eyes shut. “No more noise in my earballs.” Aw, poor guy.

But also: “‘Earballs?’ You still drunk?” you razzed, wiping your hand again with your napkin this time.

“Alright, who wants more bacon?” T-Dog called out from the stove.

And that’s when Rick finally walked in. Your brother was hopefully close behind.

“Mornin’,” he grunts to you all.

Impish expression on his face now, Carl immediately asks “Are you hungover? Mom said you’d be.”

And poor Lori hadn’t expected him to say that, if her dumbfounded stare was any indication.

Rick smiles, surrenders, and sinks into his chair. “Mom is right.”

Playfully, she mumbles back “Mom has that annoying habit.”

Then T-Dog, seeing the newest arrival to the breakfast table (ahem, to his royal court), announces the meal of “Eggs – powdered, but – but I do ’em good. I’ll bet you can’t tell,” as he marches over with a pan.

Glenn’s painful groans grow louder as his majesty drawls with just a hint of a smirk that “Protein helps the hangover” while he plops some piping hot scrambled eggs onto his plate. For a second, you worry that he’s gonna hurl, but to everyone’s relief, all Glenn does is groan more.

Everybody by now is making their way back to the table, minus Daryl. Wait, where did he run off to?

“Where’d all this come from?” Rick wants to know.

“Jenner.”

Aw, now he’s fumbling around with the cap for the hangover pills but can’t seem to open it. Oh, Rick. Sweet, hungover Rick. He sounds embarrassed (and slightly desperate) as he asks his wife “Could you help me please?”

Easily, she pops it open for him. “He thought we could use it. Some of us at least,” she mentions, sharing a pointed look with Jacqui who’s now massaging Glenn’s shoulders.

“Don’t ever, ever, ever let me drink again,” he moans.

Oh, and finally here’s your brother joining everybody.

“Hey,” is the best he can croak out by way of a greeting.

And yeah, he looks about as good as Glenn and Rick do right now. He’s got his collar popped somewhat to hide those scratches. It’s so strange that he didn’t realize he’d done that to himself.

“Good morning, sleepin’ beauty,” you tease.

“Hey. Feel as bad as I do?” Rick says to him.

“Worse.” Which is unusual. He and you tend to brush off or joke about discomfort.

And that’s when T-Dog notices the scratch marks. “The hell happened to you? Your neck?”

Carol frowns at you and leans over to whisper so only you could hear “Accident during the lesson?”

Just as silently, you shake your head and whisper back “Did it to himself without realizin’.”

“I must have done it in my sleep,” Shane answers, sipping his orange juice and not looking at anyone.

Rick has a curious expression on his face. “Never seen you do that before.”

“Me neither,” Shane replies, his gaze traveling up to you then to Rick – no, not to Rick, to – to Lori? “Not like me at all.”

...Now the mood in the room is tense.

Just like when this happened last night, the kids choose to engage in a silent kicking battle under the table.

You take a gulp of your water and roll the pill bottle to your brother. “Take two or three, Shane,” then you push the little saucepan with the rest of the grits and the tin of Old Bay towards him. “And Teddy made cheesy grits, too, if you want some.”

Oh, there’s Daryl, he’s over in the storeroom. You shake a little more of the Old Bay onto your breakfast and take your bowl and heat pack with you as you stroll over. With a little wave at the doorframe, you join him in the pantry and look around at all the stuff.

“Look at all this food, could feed an army for a month,” he mumbles to you. “We’d be set for a long-ass time if we ration it right.” He makes a psht sound. “If we last here that long.”

“Ah, what’s your doomsday scenario for us, then?”

“That big-ass countdown on the wall, for one.”

“Mm, I don’t like that neither.” You wipe your hand again before taking another small bite.

“How the doc don’t seem to make sense ever, for two.”

At that one, you remind him to “We might can chalk that up to trauma and him knowing a little too much about what’s goin’ on.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’: we all know he got some big secret about all this he ain’t sharing.”

You nod thoughtfully and take another bite of grits and chew slowly. “Least he’s sharing the Old Bay,” you comment with your mouth full. Unhelpful comment, you know.

He either scoffs, snorts, or coughs, you aren’t certain. Most likely a scoff.

“Hey, what was it you were gonna say to me earlier, Daryl?”

“Hm?”

“Back when Carol walked in.”

He opens his mouth then closes it. “Ain’t nothing.”

“You realize that doin’ that just makes a person wanna know what it was all the more, right?”

Rolling his eyes, he mutters that “I fell asleep in the rec room with a light on, but it was out when I woke up a while later. Was just wonderin’ who woulda turned it off.”

“That was me. I passed by and noticed the light but didn’t want to wake you.” You tilt your head and decide not to blab that seeing him fast asleep with that book humanized him greatly. “Was the couch real comfy? It looks real comfy.”

“Sure beats a blanket on the ground in a tent.”

“Or up a tree in a hunting chair durin’ a rainstorm,” you remind him, taking your last bite of grits. He’d been so hell-bent on bagging that deer to feed you all that he’d slept up there!

That was the same night that Rick had come back (and Daryl’s brother hadn’t), wasn’t it?

No wonder he’d crashed with a light on while reading last night; he must’ve been beyond exhausted. After that night, there hasn’t been much time for sleep, period, and that was days ago. And to top it off, a walker ended up gnawing the deer.

“Shit. Forgot all about that,” he said quietly. “That was what, four days ago?”

“I think so.” Felt like a month ago. You heave a sigh and press the heat pack on your jaw again as the two of you stare into space.

You see in your peripheral vision that he looks down at something near you. “Why d’you keep wipin’ your hand?”

He noticed? Shoot. You hadn’t considered that you were doing it often enough that anybody would notice.

Oh, what the hell, you were doing it right now. Somewhat uncomfortably, you say “Didn’t realize I was.”

“You got like a rash or somethin’?”

A rash? Really? “A rash? No, it’s nothin’.”

He looks over at you with one brow raised.

Oh. You know what he’s gonna say next. “You realize sayin’ that makes a person wanna know what it is even more, right?”

Which makes it your turn to roll your eyes while try to figure out how to explain it without explaining it. “I just feel like it ain’t, uh, clean,” you attempt.

“So, like a rash?”

“No!” You’ve got the workings of a smile on your face, but he just stares back. So, you hold up your palm to show him. “See? Fine.”

Why is he continuing to stare like that? “You just wiped it again, Y/N.”

Shit, you did, didn’t you? Fine, whatever.

Voice low, you make an effort to sound casual when you admit “Still feel like there’s blood on it. I-I used this hand on Amy’s neck, is all.”

“Hm?”

“After.”

“After what?”

What else would I be referring to other than when our camp got overrun and my best friend lay torn open and bleeding out on the ground the night before her birthday? you want to snap back at him.

But you keep your cool and repeat “After that night.” Then you can’t help but wipe your hand again, but you don’t care in the slightest, the sensation feels too real.

You then press the heat pack back onto your jaw to make the most of it before it turns cold.

“Why did ya try and do that?” he grunts, tone suggesting that he thought you were a dumbass. “She was bit.”

God save you and control your damned temper, because that was the worst possible way that he could have responded.

Your throat feels tight as you seethe “Was she? Hadn’t noticed.”

Turning your heel, you then swipe your empty bowl off the shelf with your free hand and see yourself out of the pantry to clean it at the sink. Dick. A heartless asshole of a dick.

“Let me grab that for you, kiddo.”

“I got it, Dale.”

“I’m doing the dishes here, silly. Besides, you ought to keep that heat pack on if you want that bruise to dissipate faster.”

You pause and remember yourself. “Sorry. Thank you, Mr. H.”

“Y/N, should I be worried?” he questions gently, looking from you to the storeroom where Daryl still was. “Bit of an argument?”

“Nah. It’s nothin’. Here, um, I’ll wash, you rinse,” you offer, nodding to the dishes.

“I won’t say no,” he smiles, stepping aside to let you stand at the faucet. “Though I did have to insist Carol not help. But I’m sure you understand why.”

“Oh, I do.”

Submerging your hands into the warm bubbles felt nice and dulled the sensation...even though the water was nasty with all the food bits. (Ew.)

“Got one more,” interrupts that signature, abrasive, gravelly voice. Ugh, and dropping off his bowl like some lazy ass in his stupid poncho with his stupid face.

“Trash,” you hiss under your breath. Hopefully no one heard.

Scratch that, Dale heard. You can tell.

“Young man,” he loudly calls to stop him. “You rinse and dry, I’ll put them away.”

“What?” And Daryl turns around to face you two again.

“More hands make lighter work, son,” he replies curtly, yet not unkindly. He did it in a fatherly way, along with a chiding glance at you. To which Daryl of course scoffs and turns away again.

But holy Moses, does it shock you when he doesn’t also walk away. Instead he stays, turns back around and steps next to you, then holds out his hand for one of the cleaned dishes.

Stifling your groan and pursing your lips, you hand it to him without looking over. Why does this feel like a parent making two kids work together because they’d squabbled?

In silence you all clean.

Lori comes over to help Dale put away the dishes until Carl calls through the door “Mom, can you help me?”

Halfway through the dishes, Daryl whips a cigarette out of his pocket and peels it open to pour the tobacco directly in his mouth like y’all are living in the colonial times or whatever.

And as you wash, you scrub the sponge along your palm and in between your fingers every so often, hoping to keep away that sensation that it’s still bloody.

“Gonna get it all raw if you keep doin’ that,” the heartless asshole murmurs to you while he chews the tobacco leaves.

“And you’re gonna get cancer from doin’ that.”

“What’s wrong?” Dale asks.

To which you both say “Ain’t nothing.”

By now, you should’ve guessed that Dale would remind you that “Nothing quite intrigues a person than hearing another say ‘it’s nothing.’ Especially when said in sync like that, that was quite entertaining,” he chuckles. “Y/N, did you injure your hand?”

“No, m’good.” Well shoot, that wasn’t a convincing reply at all.

You hear him sigh, then request “Son, please enlighten me?”

To his credit, Daryl looks over at you before saying anything. He even gives a slight nod with his brows lowered just so as if he were asking permission.

You meet his eyes, roll your own, then put a hand on his wrist and mutter “I got it.” You look at Dale now. “It feels like I can’t get it clean is all.”

Dale frowns. “How so?”

Swallowing to keep at bay the tears that suddenly decide to make an appearance, you quickly face the sink again, shrug, and tell him “I dunno, just that it’s dirty. Weird, right?”

Daryl grabs the last dish from you and rinses, dries it, and takes it to the cupboard himself, leaving you and Dale in relative privacy. Dale picks up the dishcloth and begins to dry the faucet and the area around the sink.

“You know, it’s a very different scenario, but did you know that in the Scottish play, Lady Macbeth has a problem where she feels as if there is blood on her hands that won’t wash off? Hers has to do with guilt, of course, so she repeatedly wipes and rubs them in an attempt to get them to feel clean again.”

“It ain’t a big, um, it’s-it’s just the one hand,” you lamely insist. Embarrassingly lame. And it doesn’t fool Dale.

“The same hand you used to stanch the artery in Amy’s neck, is it not?”

You stiffen. And by now, you can’t reply or tears might spill out. So you simply nod and swallow again.

Softly, he hypothesizes “Do you blame yourself that she was killed?”

It could’ve easily been me if I’d gone into the RV first. And if I’d have stood closer, I might would’ve heard the walker coming and been able to stop it from biting her. But instead of all that, you utter “That’s silly.”

“I hope not, because in all reality, I should take the blame, since it was my RV she had gone into the use the restroom.”

“What? Dale, that’s ridiculous.”

“Or maybe Glenn, since he’d driven that sports car to camp with the alarm blaring the afternoon prior, which may have drawn them to us.”

What? That’s also ridic – oh. You see what he’s doing.

He goes on. “Or perhaps Morales should be blamed, since he cooked up all the fish, and it’s possible that the smell attracted the hoard to us. Or maybe even Andrea and Amy themselves are to blame, since they caught the fish in the first place.” He gestures to you. “What do you think? Do you agree that any of them are fault?”

You’re so close to tears you can’t even look at him. “...No.”

“Neither would we agree that you are. It’s survivor’s guilt, and it’s lying to you.”

Unable to respond other than with a nod, you rest your hands on the sink and just breathe. A few tears sneak out, so you wipe them. Dale calmly pats your back for a moment and gently reminds you that “You nearly got killed yourself trying to stop it from harming Amy further. I saw it, your brother saw it – the sound of horror came out of that man’s mouth was – ” he shook his head as if considering something.

After a minute or two, he kindly says “Alright kiddo, now I’m going to have to insist you take that hot pack and head back to your room to pack up. We all decided to, just in case.”

Huh? “How come?”

“Eh, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

The corners of your mouth turn up even in spite of that uneasy dread you now felt; hadn’t you already concluded what the phrase “It’s nothing” does to a person?

Dale has to be thinking the same thing as he smiles slightly when he explains “The doctor is having us meet him in the, uh, in the ‘big room’ to describe some of what’s going on.” His smile lessens. “Something about his manner troubled us, so we didn’t half wonder if perhaps this place may not as permanent as we’d hoped.”

Nodding, your shoulders slump. “Fair enough.”

“And Y/N? Be sure to try and make nice with Daryl, okay? We’re all in this together, so we might as well not bite each other’s heads off – even though it can be very easy to bark back.” A grin. “Yes?”

You sigh and offer him a wry smile as you concede (more like whine) “Yes, Mr. Horvath.”

“Thank you. Troublemaker.”

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caswlw · 4 years ago

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me connecting the dots between mr i loved the finale ! (even post airing, willing statements) finally getting his own place on a cw show as the Main Character and mr sexy silence (post finale ofc) and his Moving On to (hopefully) greener pastures! with lobotomy man

i am just saying! it’s awfully interesting to me that j*red didnt have to ask for the car, and he made all those weird statements about saileen, and how even he was telling jensen to get on board with the finale when he had w*lker queued up and the cw on his side Yet Again! is there not something Weird about that???? how many shitty commercials and promos we have to sit thru? the transition they’re trying to make from the spnfamily to the w*lkerfamily??????? like. you can’t make this any more clear i’m sorry but the show that’s been pushing sam aside for YEARS making him the focal point of the finale?

brings me to j*red saying shit like easter eggs in the f*nale !! when it was just a bunch of pilot refs? like was the intention to bring us back to that sam protagonist feel so that people would remember it when w*lker came around?? bc dean’s been the protagonist for a WHILE and he’s barely in this episode and i just can’t help but think that’s entirely on purpose

#i can’t shut up about this damn w*lker thing bc like #it really is just the sam show #fucking samuel campbell is in it for godsakes #spn

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fandom-puff · 4 years ago

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Idiots Like Lockhart

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Requested by: anon (mix of two requests as they were VERY similar)

Summary: Lockhart’s shameless flirting is getting to you.

AN: so the first of the kinktober fics is queued up! Things are getting busy w school (and I also recently got animal crossing new horizons and Tom Nook do be keeping me in debt) so things may be slow or erratic in terms of uploads.

Warning: unwanted flirting

“Good morning, YN!”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you plastered a strained smile on your face as you turned to your colleague.

“Morning, Gilderoy,” you said politely, before turning back to your porridge. You didn’t need to look to your other side to know that Severus was tensing up.

“I trust you got my owl?”

Sighing, you set your spoon down. “I did, Gilderoy. The answer is still no, no matter how many autographed pictures you put in the envelope. I’m not going to the Three Broomsticks with you,” with a huff, you abandoned your breakfast and made your way to your classroom, really not in the mood for Lockhart’s pathetic flirting today. If Severus would just come out and say that you were together, you wouldn’t have this issue. Everyone on the staff already knew you had been a couple for two years now, so you didn’t see the point in hiding it from Lockhart. Perhaps Severus merely wanted to wait for the right opportunity (he was a bit of a drama queen with his sweeping black robes and low drawling voice) but still.

In an increasingly foul mood, you groaned when you spotted a lilac envelope on your desk, your name written in swirly purple handwriting. Pursing your lips, you swept it aside, soon letting your first class in. The lesson went without a hitch until a giggling group of third year girls saw your envelope.

“Oooo, is that from Professor Lockhart?” One girl asked, her friends squealing slightly when you nodded. “Oh! Open it professor! I bet he fancies you! Imagine that, a real life celebrity sending our teacher love notes!”

You sighed and kept a level head. “Miss Beckett, my correspondence with my colleagues is none of your concern, do remember that,” you said, gently but firmly, before holding up the note. You read it quickly to yourself and rolled your eyes, before tapping it smartly with your wand and muttering ‘incendio’. Several of the girls gasped as the pretty paper burst into flames, but a few of the boys grinned.

You swept the ashes into your waste paper bin, before turning to the chalkboard, the chalk magically beginning to write as you explained the basics of the new topic you were covering with your class. All was going fine until there was a burst of knocking on your door. You flicked your wand at it to open it, half expecting a student on a message from another professor.

Instead, you were met with the sight of someone who was quickly moving up your list of least favourite people. “Professor Lockhart,” you said through gritted teeth. “Is there a problem? Surely not another one of your practical lessons have descended into chaos? I’d expect better from such an... accomplished wizard,” your backhanded comment did not go unnoticed- someone muttered from the back of the class ‘I thought that vampire seemed a bit stupid!’

Lockhart’s boyish grin fell slightly, but he stepped into the room. “YN-”

“Professor YLN, if you don’t mind,” you said cooly, turning back to your chalkboard. There was a snort of laughter from the left of the room which was quickly covered up by a fake cough. “Now, class, it’s a common misconception that the-”

“YN, please, just listen to me! I understand your worries, but a little drink at the three broomsticks will do no harm. We won’t get hounded by paparazzi, darling. If you’re that worried about a public scandal, I can put a concealment charm on you,” he said, smirking as he winked at a few of the students. His arrogance caused anger to finally flare up inside you. The chalk clattered to the floor as your focus was torn away from teaching.

“Professor Lockhart, I suggest you leave my classroom this instant before I hex you into next month,” you said, eyes flashing with rage. “And for the record, I would never go anywhere with an arrogant, self-centred, immature fool like you, no matter how many pathetic love notes and inappropriate interruptions to my lessons you make. As a matter of fact, I’ll be reporting the harassment to Professor Dumbledore, so tread very carefully, Gilderoy, or so help me god,” you glared at him, your wand clutched tightly in your hand. “Now get out and leave my class in peace. We have important content to learn,” you had slowly been backing him out of the room and slammed the door in his face, before storming back to your desk. “Books out. Answer the questions on the board,” you instructed your class.

“That was brilliant, Professor!” Someone commented and you couldn’t help the small smile that twitched on your lips.

“Thank you, Benjamin,” you said bashfully, before burying yourself in your work. You dismissed the class when the bell went, and sighed. You wanted nothing more than to curl up with Severus, but you still had a few more classes to teach.

***

Later that day, you and the majority of the staff were sat around in the staff room, drinking tea and chatting, although you kept to yourself. Most had heard about your rant at Lockhart, but you still hadn’t seen Severus- what if he was angry? What if all this was simply too much for him?

When he swept into the room with Lockhart on his coat tails, jabbering on about a duelling club, you tossed your book aside. Without really thinking, you flung yourself into sev’s arms, burying your face in his neck. Minerva and Albus smiled at one another, knowing how much comfort you sought in each other’s arms as Severus rubbed your back, frowning. “Are you alright, my love?” He murmured, kissing your temple.

“Much better now I’m with you,” you replied, pulling back and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. Without another word, you walked back to your shared chambers in the dungeons as you explained what had you so tense that day.

Lockhart was left gaping, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out, rather like a goldfish. “She... what... HIM?” He said incredulously looking around the staffroom.

“Oh yes,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Severus and YN... such a strong love they have for one another...” he hummed, popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth and looking off dreamily.

“You’re very welcome to place your bet, Gilderoy,” said Professor Sprout grinning. “So far ive got 10 galleons on it happening by easter, Filius bets 15 by Valentines Day, and we’ve got Minerva betting 50 by the New Year half term! Should I put you in the book?”

“Betting? What for?” Lockhart demanded.

“On when Severus will propose to YN,” Flitwick said brightly.

“Speaking of which, Pomona, I want to change my bet to October half term. Something tells me Severus isn’t likely to leave it any longer...”

Tags: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer @rabeccablake @sambucky8 @eleven-times-lively @talksoprettyjjx @extra-trash77 @rangerelik @dracosbbygorl @simonsbluee

#severus snape x y/n #severus snape headcanons #severus snape fluff #severus snape x reader #severus snape imagine #severus snape #lockhart #gilderoy lockhart #harry potter #hp #imagine #request #harry potter imagine #fluff

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gardenofkore · 4 years ago

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- E lo princep respos al almirall: -Ques aço que vos volets que yo hi faça? que si fer yo puch , -volenters ho fare.- Yo , dix lalmirall , quem façats ades venir la filla del rey Manfre, germana de madona la regina Darago, que vos tenits en vostra preso aci el castell del Hou , ab aquelles dones e donzelles qui soes bi sien ; e quem façats lo castell e la vila Discle retre . - E lo princep respos , queu faria volenters. E tantost trames un seu cavaller en terra ab un leny armat, e amena madona la infanta , germana de madona la regina , ab quatre donzelles e dues dones viudes. E lalmirall reebe les ab gran goig e ab gran alegre , e ajenollas, e besa la ma a madona la infanta.

Ramon Muntaner, CRÓNICA CATALANA, p. 221

Beatrice was born (probably) in Palermo around 1260. She was the first child and only daughter of Manfredi I of Sicily and his second wife, the Epirote princess Helena Angelina Doukaina (“[…] et idem helenam despoti regis emathie filiam sibi matrimonialiter coppulavit, ex quibus nata fuit Beatrix.”, Bartholomaeus de Neocastro, Historia Sicula, in Giuseppe Del Re, Cronisti e Scrittori sincroni Napoletani editi ed inediti, p. 419). It’s quite plausible the baby had been named after Manfredi’s first wife, Beatrice of Savoy (mother of Costanza, who will later become Queen consort of Aragon and co-regnant of Sicily). The little princess would soon be followed by three brothers: Enrico, Federico and Enzo (also called Anselmo or Azzolino). With three sons, Manfredi must have thought his succession was secured.

Beatrice’s father was one Federico II of Sicily’s many illegitimate children, although born from his most beloved mistress (and possibly fourth and last wife), Bianca Lancia. Since his father’s death in 1250, Manfredi had governed the Kingdom of Sicily on behalf firstly of his (legitimate) half-brother Corrado and, after his death in 1254, of Corrado’s son, Corradino. In 1258, two years prior Beatrice’s birth, Manfredi had been crowned King of Sicily in Palermo’s Cathedral, de facto usurping his half-nephew’s rights.

Like it had happened with Federico, Manfredi was soon opposed by the Papacy, which didn’t approve of the Hohenstaufen’s rule over Sicily (and Southern Italy with it) and the role of the King as the champion of the Ghibellines faction. In 1263, Urban VI managed to convince Charles of Anjou, younger brother of Louis IX the Saint, to present himself as a contender to the Sicilian throne. Three years later, on January 6th 1266, the French duke was crowned King of Sicily by the Pope in Rome, thus overthrowing Manfredi. On February 26th, in Benevento, the usurped King then tried to get back his kingdom by facing Charles in the open field, but failed and lost his life while fighting.

The now widowed Queen Helena had previously fled to Lucera (in Apulia) with her children (Beatrice was now six), her sister-in-law Costanza, and her step-daughter, the illegitimate Flordelis, where she thought they would be safer. When they got news of the disaster of Benevento and Manfredi’s death, they fled to Trani from where they planned to set off to Epirus. The unfortunate party was instead betrayed and handed off to the Angevin. On March 6th night, Helena and the children were taken hostage and later separated. The Queen was sent at first to Lagopesole (in Basilicata) and finally to Nocera Christianorum (now Nocera Inferiore), where she would die still in captivity in 1271.

Enrico, Federico and Enzo were taken to Castel del Monte. Following Corradino’s death in 1268, Manfredi’s young sons (the oldest, Enrico, was just four at the time of his capture) were, to all effects, the rightful heirs to the Sicilian throne. It’s undoubtful Charles must have wanted them gone, or at least forgotten. In 1300 they were moved to Naples, in Castel dell’Ovo (which, at that time, was called San Salvatore a mare), under the order of the new Angevin king, Charles II. According to some sources, Federico and Enzo died there within the short span of a year. As for Enrico, he died alone and miserable in October 1318, he was 56.

As for Beatrice, her fate was more merciful compared to that of her mother and brothers and, for that, she had to thank her sex, which made her harmless in Charles’ eyes (as long as she was left unmarried). After being separated from her family (she will never see them again), the six years old princess was, like her brothers, held captive (although not together) in Castel del Monte. In 1271, she was moved to Naples, in Castel dell’Ovo, under the guardianship of its keeper, a French nobleman called either Landolfo or Radolfo Ytolant. Manfredi’s daughter is mentioned in a rescript of Charles dated March 5th 1272, from which we learn she had been granted at least a maid (“V Marcii xv indictionis. Neapoli. Scriptum est Iustitiario et erario Terre laboris etc. Cum ex computo facto per magistrum rationalem Nicolaum Buccellum etc. cum Landulfo milite castellano castri nostri Salvatoris ad mare de Neapoli pro expensis filie quondam Manfridi Principis Tarentini et damicelle sue. ac filie quondam comitis Iordani et damicelle sue dicto castellano in unc. auri novem et taren. sex de pecunia presentis generalis subventionis residuorum quolibet vel qua canque alia etc. persolvatis. non obstante etc. Recepturus etc.”, Monumenti n. XLIV. in Domenico Forges Davanzati, Dissertazione sulla seconda moglie del re Manfredi e su’ loro figliuoli, p. XLIII-XLIV). Like it had happened with her mother, and unlike her brothers, it appears Beatrice was treated with courtesy and respect. In her misfortune, she could count on the company of a fellow prisoner and distant relative, the daughter of Giordano Lancia d’Agliano, who was her grandmother Bianca Lancia’s cousin and had been a loyal supporter of her father, Manfredi.

On Easter Day of 1282, an anti-Angevin rebellion sparkled in Palermo would soon transform itself into a war to get rid of the so much hated Frenchmen, the so-called War of the Sicilian Vespers. It’s dubious that, close in her prison, Beatrice came to know about it. She might have also been surprised to know that her half-sister, Costanza, had been asked by a delegation of fellow Sicilians to take possession of what was hers by right (the throne) as she was their “naturalis domina”. Her rights were shared with her husband, Pedro III of Aragon, who would personally take part in the war and be rewarded with a joint coronation in November 1282.

For Beatrice, everything changed in 1284. On June 4th, Italian Admiral Ruggero di Lauria, at the service of the Aragonese King (he was also Costanza’s milk brother), defeated the Angevin fleet just offshore from Naples and took Carlo II prisoner. Being in clear superiority, the Sicilians could now demand (among many requests) the release of Princess Beatrice. Carlo’s eldest son and heir, Carlo Martello Prince of Salerno, could nothing other than obliging them. (“Siciliani autem , & omnes faventes Petro Aragonum, incontinenti de ipsorum victoria plurimum exultantes, Nuncios, & Legatos ad quoddam Castrum ex parte Principis direxerunt , ubi quaedam filia quondam Domini Regis Manfredi sub custodia tenebatur , ut dicta filia fine ullo remedio laxaretur , quae statim fuit antedictis Legatis , & Nunciis restituta.”, Anonimo Regiense, Memoriale Potestatum Regiensium. Gestorumque iis Temporibus. Ab anno 1154 usque ad Annum 1290, in Ludovico Antonio Muratori, Rerum Italicarum scriptores ab anno aerae christianae quingentesimo ad millesimumquingentesimum, vol. VIII, p. 1158).

Beatrice, finally free, left Castel dell’Ovo headed for Capri, where the Admiral was waiting for her. She had spent 18 long years in captivity and was now 24. From Capri she reached Sicily, where she was warmly welcomed and with a lot of enthusiasm, to meet her half-sister Costanza.

As the Queen’s closest free relative (both Pedro and Costanza had no interest in asking for Enrico’s release since, as a male, he had more rights than Costanza to inherit the throne), Beatrice had a great political value. At first, Ranieri Della Gherardesca’s name came up. He was the son of that Count Gherardo who had fought together with the unfortunate Corradino (the sisters’ royal cousin), and for that had been beheaded in Naples in 1268 alongside his liege. Finally the perfect candidate was found. Manfredo of Saluzzo was born in 1262 and was the son of Marquis Tommaso I and his wife Luigia of Ceva. Like Beatrice, Manfredo was strongly related to Costanza, specifically, he was her nephew since Tommaso and the Sicilian Queen were half-siblings (they were both Beatrice of Savoy’s children).

The marriage contract between the two is dated July 3rd 1286 and the contracting parties are on one side “la serenissima signora constanza regina dy aragon e dy sicilia e dil ducato de puglia principato di capua” and, on the other side “il marchexe thomas di sa lucio signore de conio una cum mạdona alexia soa moglie”. Tommaso declares that Manfredi will inherit his title, privileges and possession upon his death. If, after the marriage is celebrated, Manfredi were to die first, Beatrice would enjoy possession of the castle and some properties. The Marquise Luisa declares to agree with her husband’s decision (“[…] e a tuto questo la marchexa aloysia madre dy manfredo consenty”, Gioffredo Della Chiesa, Cronaca di Saluzzo, p. 165-166). The union was formally celebrated the year after.

Beatrice bore Manfredi two children: Caterina and Federico, born presumably in 1287 (“Et da questa beatrix haue uno figlolo chiamato fredericho et una figlola chiamata Kterina” Gioffredo Della Chiesa, Cronaca di Saluzzo, p. 185). In 1296 Tommaso died, so Manfredi inherited the marquisate and Beatrice became Marquise consort of Saluzzo. She will die eleven years later at 47, on November 19th 1307 (“Venne a morte nel dì 19 novembre di quest’anno Beatrice di Sicilia moglie del nostro marchese Manfredo, e noi ne accertiamo il segnato giorno col mezzo del rituale del monastero di Revello , nel quale leggesi annotato: 19 novembris anniversarium d. Beatricis filiae quondam d. Manfredi regis Ceciliae et uxoris d. Manfredi primogeniti d. Thomae marchionis Saluciarum, quae huic monasterio quingen- tas untias in suo testamento legavit.” Delfino Muletti, Memorie storico-diplomatiche appartenenti alla città ed ai marchesi di Saluzzo, vol III, p. 76). Her husband would quickly remarry with Isabella Doria, daughter of Genoese patricians Bernabò Doria and Eleonora Fieschi. Isabella would give birth to five more children: Manfredi, Bonifacio, Teodoro, Violante and Eleonora.

As of Beatrice’s children, Caterina would marry Guglielmo Enganna, Lord of Barge (“Catherina figlola dy manfredo e de la prima moglie fu sorella dy padre e dy madre dy fede rico e fu moglie duno missere gulielmo ingana capo dy parte gebellina in questy cartiery dil pie monty verso bargie.”, Gioffredo Della Chiesa, Cronaca di Saluzzo, p. 256). Federico’s fate would be more complicated. Like many mothers before and after her, Isabella Doria wished to see her own firstborn, Manfredi, succeeded his father rather than her step-son. The new Marchioness of Saluzzo successfully instigated her husband against his son to the point the Marquis. in a donatio mortis causa dated 1325, disinherited Federico in favour of the second son (Federico would have settled with just his late mother’s belongings), Manfredi (“Et questo faceua a instigatione de la moglie che lo infestaua a cossi fare.” Gioffredo Della Chiesa, Cronaca di Saluzzo, p. 224). Federico’s natural rights were later acknowledged by an arbitral award proclaimed in 1329 by his paternal uncles Giovanni and Giorgio of Saluzzo, and finally, an arbitration verdict dated 1334 and issued by Guglielmo Earl of Biandrate and Aimone of Savoy. As a condition of peace, the future Marquis should have granted his younger brother the castle and villa of Cardè as a fief. Stung by this defeat, Manfredi IV, his wife Isabella and beloved son Manfredi retired to Cortemilla. Federico died in 1336 and was succeeded by his son Tommaso, who would inherit his father’s rights and feud with the two Manfredi's. After being defeated by his half-uncle in 1341 (the older Manfredi, his grandfather, had died the year before), resulting in losing his titles, possessions and freedom, Tommaso would later regain what was of his right and rule as Marquis of Saluzzo.

Sources

-ANONIMO REGIENSE, Memoriale Potestatum Regiensium. Gestorumque iis Temporibus. Ab anno 1154 usque ad Annum 1290, in Ludovico Antonio Muratori, Rerum Italicarum scriptores ab anno aerae christianae quingentesimo ad millesimumquingentesimum, vol. VIII

-BARTHOLOMAEUS DE NEOCASTRO, Historia Sicula, in Giuseppe Del Re, Cronisti e Scrittori sincroni Napoletani editi ed inediti

- DEL GIUDICE GIUSEPPE, La famiglia di Re Manfredi

- DELLA CHIESA, GIOFFREDO, Cronaca di Saluzzo

-FORGES DAVANZATI, DOMENICO, Dissertazione sulla seconda moglie del re Manfredi e su’ loro figliuoli

- LANCIA, MANFREDI, Il complicato matrimonio di Beatrice di Sicilia

-Monferrato. Saluzzo

-MULETTI, DELFINO, Memorie storico-diplomatiche appartenenti alla città ed ai marchesi di Saluzzo, vol II-III

- MUNTANER, RAMON, Crónica catalana

- SABA MALASPINA, Rerum Sicularum

- SAVIO, CARLO FEDELE, Cardè. Cenni storici (1207-1922)

-Sicily/Naples: Counts & Kings

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