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wafflesetc · 6 years

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I’ll be there for you Chapter 2

I’ll be there for you Arc I | I’ll be there for you Arc II: Chapter 1

A/N: It’s been how long? BUT IT’S BACK! Thank you as always to @kkruml and @missclairebelle who always know just want needs to be added on, fixed, elaborated, and give me a strong kick in the arse when needed.

The One With The Heartbeat

“Mhmmmm.” I sleepily mumbled as I crawled into the bed. Jamie turned in his slumber, reaching for me.

“Yer home late.” His voice with husky with sleep, but I could hear the double meaning in his tone.

“I know, I’m sorry.” My body aligned with his, as it did perfectly without fail. “We had a M&M conference today, Joe and I stayed late to talk to Dr. Murphy…”

“It’s not just you, anymore Sassenach.” My body felt a rush of cold air as he sat up, sending chills down my spine. I was in no mood to rehash this argument, again. “Ye have to think of the bairn...Ye ken I am no’ telling you to stop working, but I am just reminding ye to take it easy on yer feet, take it easy on the hours.”

“Jamie,” I pleaded. I reached for a pillow and smothered it over my face groaning into it. “I had a long day. It is almost midnight. I have another shift tomorrow. The last thing I want to do is argue, alright.”

“Let’s go to bed, then.” His voice was soft and almost apologetic. I succumbed to slumber as he closed the distance between us and cradled me like a small infant. It was a night without any dreams.

“How big is the bairn this week?” I watched Geillis take a swig of coffee from the nurses station.

“That dumb app you made me download says baby is about the size of a pea or something similar.” I rounded the desk and sat in a chair next to her. “God, I miss caffeine.”

“I bet ye do.” She took another sip and smirked at me. “Do ye want a small sip?”

“Yesssssssss.” I reached for her cup and brought the hot contents to my lips. “It’s so bloody good.”

“Ye ken a small amount isna bad for ye….” I darted my eyes at her as she rolled hers. “Yeah, yeah, I ken ye’re the doctor.”

“I know some things aren’t bad in moderation. I’m just trying to be healthy through this journey...” I chose another term for my condition for fear of any ears that might be within hearing distance.

“How are things wi’ Jamie?” I could hear the eagerness and inquisitive undertones in her question. I sighed and leaned back into the chair.

“Ah.” I took a breath recalling how tense things between us had been. It wasn’t that he was not supportive, because he was… It was just different for him to be my boyfriend than just a friend. We’d been arguing over how many hours I was working, over my stress level, over all the food I was eating. I was being micromanaged in ways I was never used to being monitored.

“We’re… Figuring things out.” I released my breath. “The first few weeks we were in that honeymoon phase. It was all new and exciting. And now that suddenly I’m his girlfriend... He feels the need to be overprotective kicks into gear.”

Geillis laughed at that.

“I am not the type of woman who bites her tongue, nor needs to be protected!” I could feel the tips of my ears burning red.

“I ken, but maybe ye should try and see it through his eyes, Claire. I dinna ken why he feels the way he does, but the lad probably does have his reasons. He has always been a man who is fiercely loyal to his friends… I have a hunch he’d be more so over his family.”

“I… It’s…” And saved by the bell, my pager went off. “It’s not that simple.” I stood and rolled my shoulders, working out the kinks in my back.

“When are ye going to tell the rest of the work folk?”

“I’m six and a half weeks, almost seven. Jamie and I are still figuring out, what being together is like…”

She rose from her chair tossing her empty coffee cup into the waste bin. “It sounds like ye are goin’ stall as long as ye can.”

“Probably.” I unlocked my phone and dialed. “We have the first ultrasound today… I’ll call you after, let you know how it goes.”

“I’d like that and dinna fash about Jamie, ye’ll sort it out. Ye always do.”

Date of Birth. Age. Weight. Occupation.

My mind raced a mile a minute as I filled out the paperwork in the OBGYN’s office. Finishing my information, I glanced at the clock on the wall.

6:18PM.

Dr. Fisher had been more than accommodating when I had called her earlier in the week, asking for an appointment outside of normal clinic hours and after all the nursing staff had gone home.

She poked her head from behind the door, smiling at me. “I know ye had a long day and no rush on the paperwork… I’ll just be in my office next door. Come get me when ye are finished and we will start.”

“Alright.” I said dryly. Unlocking my phone, I pulled up the last text I had sent to Jamie.

Appointment is at 6:15. Office is on the third floor of the main building, office 305. Office lights will be off, come on in anyway. Through the set of blue doors and you’ll see the lights on where we are at. See you soon.

He had quickly liked my comment and replied hastily. Will be there.

My stomach dropped as 6:18 quickly turned to 6:24 and I finished signing my name on the last release. I walked to her office, knocking on the door and placing the packet on her desk.

“Are we going to wait on the father?” Dr. Fisher asked as she guided me back into the exam room.

“I… Uh….” I swallowed. “He kne-”

“Excuse me.” A familiar Scottish voice spoke as a knock accompanied. “I’m verra sorry I was late, my phone died on the train and I couldna find the right room.”

Though we had been stressed the last week, tears filled my eyes, he hadn't wanted to miss this.

I wiped a tear as I climbed up onto the exam table. His eyes met mine and I could see the line of sweat across his forehead.

“Sassenach.” He whispered coming to my side. “I wouldna have missed this for the world, ye have to know.”

I took his hand and gave it a hard squeeze. I know, it relayed to him.

“Dr. Beauchamp,” Dr. Fisher prompted as she turned on the monitor. “Take off yer scrub bottom off. There’s a sheet to keep ye covered over there. I’ll give ye a minute.”

She left us then and Jamie’s hands found the drawstrings on my pants.

“Can I undo them?” His voice was meek, but I could see the eagerness and excitement in his eyes. Though he still looked like a petulant child who had eaten a cookie before dinner time, he also looked like a man. A man that was ready to move heaven and earth to make sure me and his child were alright. It send chills down my spine- maybe this is why he was being so overprotective- he had already done his part and now it was really all up to me.

“Yes.” I nodded, helping him shimmy them off my thighs; my undergarments followed. “Toss them on the chair and hand me the sheet.”

“Aye.” He hitched his voice for a moment and then shook his head at me.

“Say it.” I commanded. It wasn’t a question, I knew he wouldn’t have missed this but with the guilt still written on his face I knew he would feel better once he admitted it to me.

“Ye ken, I really wouldna have missed this, right? I triedta call, but my phone died...”

I reached across my torso and slipped my fingers through belt loops of his jeans.

“Come here.” I tilted my head up and gave him my kiss me look. He more than willingly obliged.

“We’ve been on edge recently, but I know,” I rested my forehead against his searching his eyes. “You wouldn’t miss this.”

He let out a small snort and I felt him take the folded sheet from my hands and the coolness of his touch as he hands found their way to my waist band. “Let’s get ye decent for the doc then, aye?”

We stayed like that for a few moments, breathing each other’s air, just being in each other’s orbit for the first time in days when the knock came on the door.

“Ye ready?” Dr. Fisher asked.

“Aye.” Jamie gleamed.

It was quiet for a few moments save for the crinkle of some paper, the whoosh of the gel as the doctor squirt it onto my lower abdomen, and the machine making noises.

I felt the probe on my stomach moving left to right, and then it hit just the right spot.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

“Sassenach,” Jamie whispered as he registered what that sound was, “We made that.”

With tears in my eyes I looked up to his face. “We sure did.”

#Outlander fanfic #Outlander #Jamie x Claire #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #I'll be there for you AU #myfic!#Oh look #I wrote something

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

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a process {John Deacon}

Anon asked: Could you write something where reader (possibly in the band) and deaky are totally in love with each other but both are too shy to say anything and oblivious to see the others feelings but at the end the get together and it’s 100% fluff? Thank u sm your fics are gold

A/N: 3169 words. If I recall, some people wanted some Deaky fic?? He’s so lovely and this was a lot of fun to write!! Again, this is the BoRhap!Deaky. Also I wrote half of this at work; this is university funded fic ladies and gentlemen.

“Alright, boys, jus’ letting you know we’ve got a new intern in today; Y/N, she’s going to be shadowing me.” The sound designer, Earl, a skinny gentleman who always seemed to be wearing black, denim shorts no matter the weather, announces your arrival over the microphone to the recording studio where the band was discussing what song to practice next. In the next moment, you have four pairs of eyes all watching you through the glass of the sound studio, and you give a nervous wave back.

“Hello.” You offer, awkwardly, and Earl leans in to the microphone on the desk.

“She says hello.” He informs the others, and you feel like an idiot. Fortunately, the men all wave back, giving quick greetings of their own, before going back to their discussion.

“They’re good.” Earl, pulled up a spare chair for you by the desk, checking the levels as they started up on a new song. From anyone else, the words would sound like a mild compliment at best, but from Earl, who you’ve known practically forever, he was a friend of the familys’, and he did not shy away from complaining about the ‘teeny bopper drivel’ he had to make sound half-decent, you knew it was closer to a round of applause.

“Intern? Does that mean you get us drinks?” They’re actually recording now, one at a time, while the rest of them lounged around on the other side of the room with you. You’re perched on the edge of your chair by the sound desk when the drummer, Roger, speaks to you. Their lead singer, Freddie was at that moment, currently in the recording studio, crooning into the microphone with his headphones on, and it takes you a moment to turn and consider what he had said.

“I mean… yeah, I guess?” Looking to Earl to either confirm or deny the request, he’s focused on the sound desk, just waves you off with a distracted affirmation. A grin stretches over Roger’s face.

“Bourbon, thanks.” And his grin only got wider at your sudden confusion.

“Water for him.” Pipes up the bass player, John, sitting against the wall with his ankles crossed, smiling up at you. “And one for me too, if it’s not too much trouble.” Relieved, you smiled back at him despite Roger’s protests. “You want anything, Bri?” John asked their guitarist, and you ended up getting drinks for everyone. Thankful that they kept fresh bottles in the break room, you returned as Freddie stepped out of the sound booth, and his recording was played back. His smile was stiff as you handed him a water bottle, though it was probably because he was trying to concentrate on the playback of his vocals than any malice towards you. Roger accepted the drink begrudgingly, and Brian smiled at you.

“I’m John, by the way.” Holding out his hand to you, you bent down to shake John’s hand where he was still sitting on the floor.

“I know,” you answered automatically, though he could see the regret on your face as soon as you said it, “I mean, we can hear you guys from in there, talking and everything,” you tried to explain yourself, still shaking his hand. After a long moment silence, he’s still looking at you with a bewildered, but pleasant smile. “I’m Y/N.” You finally manage.

“I know.” And he’s grinning at you, amused as you finally retract your hand to cross your arms over your chest. “You were introduced.” Pointing at Earl, you followed his gaze to the sound desk and the glass window, through which you could see Freddie setting up for another take.

“I’m Roger.” Roger offers from the side, and he seems to be splitting his focus between you and the singer.

“He’s Roger.” John muttered, much more quietly. How he was able to verbally communicate a fond eye-roll, you may never know.

“What does this one do?” Three weeks into your three month internship, and you’re minding the desk while Earl’s on break, slapping away John’s hands as he tries to get near the buttons.

“I don’t know.” You laughed for the fourth time in a row, pushing his hands gently from the desk.

“This one makes things loud, right?” His fingers edge towards one of the faders and you can see the grin he wears as he watches your expression closely, deciding if you’re going to slap him away from it again. The others have gone to get lunch and he’s keeping you company. He’s been doing that a lot recently, and you wouldn’t say you minded. John’s good company, unexpectedly sharp, and he always seems happy to see you.

“You probably shouldn’t touch that one; it’s for your bass.” You raised your eyebrows at him, lips twitching as you repressed a smile, watching him retract his hand to fold it in his lap.

“So that one’s for the bass, but what about the others?” He asked, nodding to the other faders, and you shrugged.

“Not sure.” Your response only made him smile wider.

“But you know which one the bass one is?” He asked, and you let yourself smile at him, a little more mischievous than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just told you that so you wouldn’t touch it.” There’s an unspoken challenge in your words, and his fingers danced along the bottom of the soundboard, just below where the masking tape labels for the faders have all worn away. There’s a moment, he’s hovering over one that looks like it’s labelled ‘Mic 2’ and you’re hand is already raised ready to knock him back, when the door bursts open and the others all spill in.

“Alright, out of my seat.” Earl pulls the rolling chair back with you still in it, and you obligingly hop out. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” He asked, just like he had every single time since he’d first trusted you to look over it while he was gone.

“Yeah, Deaky, did you-” Roger’s wearing a shit-eating grin, but the bass player has hopped out of the seat that usually belongs to you, to make a beeline for the recording studio.

“Oh shut it, Rog,” he snaps, and though you can’t see the blush rising on his cheeks, he knows it’s there. “No.” He adds, and Roger’s exaggerated eye-roll, and the comment he had made, make you blush also, but you’re not entirely sure why, or at least, you won’t admit to yourself why.

“Okay, take, uh, take six? Take six of Killer Queen’s bass.” You stumbled over your words while speaking over the microphone into the recording booth where John waited with headphones on. He gave you a thumbs up, which you missed, searching for the button to play back the other accompaniment into his headphones. After a moment of fumbling, Earl pointed the button out to you, giving you a longsuffering smile as the music began to play back. The other band members quietly discussed the logistics of the song as you watched Earl gently adjust the sound levels every few moments. Sparing a glance to John through the glass, you get a little lost for a moment, watching his intense concentration as he worked his way through the song. He had an intensity about him, the utmost concentration that made you not want to look away. Finishing without a single note missed, he looks up to see you looking back at him, a little starry-eyed, and he grins back.

“Wow.” You breathe, before turning bright red, feeling someone over your shoulder.

“She thinks it’s great.” Freddie pressed down the button, speaking into the microphone by your shoulder. John chuckled fondly, a little flush.

“I- yeah, thank you.” After a beat, he recomposed himself. “And you guys?” His gaze finally moved from your face to look over the others, who were all looking at either you or John smugly. Freddie stepped back from the console, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile as he looked between you two.

“She’s right.” Roger called from the sofa, splayed across it, partially leaning against Brian. After a beat, John gave him a confused look, tapping at the headphones. “Oi, tell ‘im.” Roger urged you, and tentatively you pressed the microphone button, leaning in to it.

“They agree.” And you watch him let out a sigh of relief as he goes to put his bass on it’s stand, making room for Brian to step in and start with his section. When he comes back into the room, John makes a beeline for the sofa, only to find Roger’s laid himself across it horizontally, taking up as much room as he possibly could.

“Sorry, mate.” The drummer grins, clearly not sorry at all. Even Freddie, who usually didn’t go in for this sort of stuff, was using the armrests of the armchair he had draped himself in, giving the bass guitarist a knowing smile, and a sly look to where you were receiving a quiet lesson faders from Earl as Brian began making sure his guitar was in tune.

“You’re doing really good,” John muttered to you from where he leaned against the wall close to the sound desk. You’d just called to start the guitar track and he was keeping his eyes on his bandmate. Startled, you slid the headphones from your ears where you were listening to make sure Brian was hearing the same thing you were.

“What?” Voice quiet, you looked up at John, and he finally looked away from Brian, smiling fondly at you.

“The whole intern thing, you’re doing really well.” And the resulting smile you gave him made you glow with pride. You’d been so worried that it had seemed like you were stumbling through your tasks, because, well, at times you were, but even a slight affirmation had you thrilled. After a beat, you tried to school face into something more serious as you tried not to let the embarrassing crush on him that had developed over the past few weeks show. He was a musician and you were an intern, and it was just a little bit of a hero-crush, nothing to get too serious about. But he was smiling back at you, and it just made you feel warm; it didn’t have to be a bad thing if you didn’t let it.

Once the album is done, you still actually manage to see them around, at least for the first few weeks. You’d actually managed to score a job as an assistant from the internship, and they were in often discussing the plans of their tour. Every time they spotted you in the halls, the others would conveniently vanish the moment John asked how you’d been. It hurt a little, to think about how you wouldn’t see them, see him, for a few months, or perhaps even a year, but you thought perhaps it would be a good thing, letting your little crush die.

“I’ll really miss working with you.” But then he had to go and say that, smiling in that way that made everything seem alright, and he wrapped an arm around you in a hug. He’s not usually a tactile person, from what you’ve gathered, and it takes a moment for you to find your voice.

“I’ll miss,” the words get stuck in your throat a little, “working with you too.” He gives you a comforting squeezes, and you’re not sure what to do about the way your heart beats a little faster, so you let him leave. He hesitates for a moment, seems like he doesn’t want to go, or has something to say. You see something in his smile, maybe a little sadness, maybe something else you can’t quite place, and you both know it’ll be a while before you see each other again.

“Is Y/N going to be here?” John’s bopping slightly to the beat in his head as he watches Earl set up the sound equipment on the farm.

“She’ll be here tomorrow.” Earl doesn’t look up from his job while Roger yells at the same time, from the other room.

“No distractions!” And it’s accompanied by the thwap of Roger’s slipper hitting the glass of the window to the sound room, but he’s grinning at the bassist from where he’s sitting behind his drums. John refuses to read into that.

It’s been almost six months since you’d seen each other, and you’d jumped at the opportunity to join Earl and the boys a the farm, even if it is in the middle of nowhere, and you’d be sleeping on a sofa for a week. You arrived at the tail end of their stay, once the music was written, all that was left to do was record it.

He’s waiting out the front of the house, perched on the brick wall and eyeing off a large chicken who looked like it was ready to spook him, when Earl pulls up with you in the front seat.The noise of the van is enough to send the chicken scrambling in the other direction, but John waved at you, and there it was, that feeling in your chest that you’ve been trying to bury for six whole months practically leaping to life as you step out to hug him in greeting.

“Oi, Y/N, settle an argument for us.” When you walk into the kitchen in the morning, Brian is smiling despite the fact that he’s got bacon in his hair, Roger is hunched over eating the rest of the bacon, at least what wasn’t scattered on the floor, from the pan and refusing to share, and John was just smiling blithely into his coffee.

“What do you think of when you hear the phrase, ‘I’m in love with my car’.” John asked, not looking away from where Roger was glowering.

“Is it a nice car?” You asked, easily making your way around the kitchen to fix yourself breakfast, ignoring the way Roger perked up at the question.

“Like as a song, what do you think?” John’s smile as catty as you’ve ever seen it. When you ask what happened to the coffee pot as it lay on it’s side sink, John hands over his mug without hesitating, still waiting on your response.

“Well... is it a metaphor?” You asked, squinting between the three of them. After a beat, Roger slams the frypan on the table and throws his hands in the air.

“Yes, see she gets it!” And you’re pretty sure you’re on the wrong side of the table as John shakes his head.

“So you metaphorically are in love with your car?” You asked, rounding the bench to join John and Brian, who were now actively stifling laughter as Roger’s face fell. Resting against the bench by John, you’re close enough that he can lean his head against your shoulder in solidarity, taking back his coffee and having a pointed sip as your words set Roger off on another rant. If you lean into it a little, he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, you don’t see it, but his smile widens.

When you hear John banging on the door of the farmhouse after you’ve finished helping pack everything up and Earl’s already locked everyone else out of the sound room for the rest of the night, it’s a shock.

“Tell her!” You can hear Roger’s shout on the other side of the door as John knocks louder.

“You really should just tell her.” Unexpectedly, even Freddie seems to agree with the drummer, though John shouts that he’ll catch his death of cold if they don’t let him in soon.

“Be an adult, John!” Brian tries to placate the bassist from the other side of the door where they’ve all teamed up against him. “Just tell her.”

“Be an adult?!” John parrots back, just before you get to them.

“Tell me what?” That shut them all up quick, and even before he turns to face you, you can tell he’s bright red. “I mean, I’m the only ‘her’ for what feels like a few hundred kilometres.” Smiling with confusion, you look to the door, and then to John. Someone whispers ‘tell her’.

“I want to see you again.” John lets the words tumble out into the world, hands out and open in front of him in some sort of ‘ta-da’ gesture, before looking over his shoulder. “Can I come back inside now?”

“What? No.” You can hear Roger’s baffled expression in his words, and it’s joined by a hum of agreement from Freddie.

“He’s right, Deaky, that was a terrible declaration of lov-” John’s pulling you away by the elbow before you could hear the rest of Freddie’s statement, though you got the general gist of it.

“You know what, maybe we’re better off out here.” He huffs, unable to look at you as he tugs you towards the wall.

“Slow down, slow down.” Once at the wall, you tug free from his grip and lean against it, watching him fidget. “You like me?” You asked, half smile forming on your lips.

“We’re not high schoolers, Y/N.” He tried dodging the question with a self-deprecating smile. Taking a step forward, you finally got him to look at you. “You know, it was weird, caring about you so much after only three months.” He admitted, studying your features with an intensity you had only seen him get around music, it made you feel like the only person in the world that mattered in that one moment. “It was weird, looking up on stage and not seeing you in the crowd.” He paused for a moment. “And I don’t want that to be our only interaction, just recording music together, I wanna take you take you to all the sights I got to see, but just... just because I want to see them with you.” When his gaze dropped, it felt as if the moment had passed, but you didn’t want to leave it just yet. Gently, you took his hand, and when his eyes met yours, you were smiling, a bit pink in the cheeks, but so obviously full of joy.

“I’d like that,” and after a beat, you moved in to press a kiss to his lips, soft and chaste. “I missed you... so much more than I thought I would.” You chuckled softly, moving back just a little. “I honestly thought you wouldn’t-”

“No, I did.” He looked away, a little embarrassed, and you could see the flush of his cheeks. “The, uh, the boys will attest to that.” He admitted, and that’s when you remembered, feeling the biting chill of the night air finally begin to hit you.

“Do you think they’ve unlocked the door?” You asked, looking over his shoulder. His expression fell as the two of you began to walk hand in hand back to the farmhouse.

“It doesn’t actually lock, they were just all leaning against it.”

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #joe mazzello #queen #queen imagine #bo rhap #the angry lizard writes

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happyhealthycats · 6 years

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Simcoe and Citra

These girls have been making their rounds on tumblr for a while. Mostly Citra for her endearing honk-meow. I figured it’s time to put in an update!

I will say that their origin gets a little sad. While I don’t normally cling to the “all shelter animals have a sad life” (Heimdall didn’t. Sif didn’t.) These girls absolutely had a rough start in this world. But I promise there’s a happy ending.

My husband and I bought a house and had a wonderful roommate who lived with us. She brought her cat, who got along with our cats wonderfully. When she moved out, we felt a bit of a hole in our hearts where our previous roommate cat had been. We contemplated adopting another cat. We were no longer in our apartment, and our local laws didn’t have any stipulation on the amount of cats you could keep inside (outside of serious instances where Animal Control is required, but 3 was hardly near that limit). So we thought about it.

As always, we went to get some food for Heimdall and Sif, and in the window were these two beautiful orange girls who were snuggling together as closely as possible.

We were told they were Clementine and Savannah, and they were in the store because they had almost no human interaction at 5 months old. They were found outside at 10 weeks, and their foster home kept them in a cage. Their foster had trouble handling them at all, so they just left them in the cage with their food and didn’t touch them or interact with them at all. They were only touched to get ringworm medicine (which they had a rather nasty case of), and other upper respiratory medication. So their only human interaction was stressful on them. Putting them in the store was the last ditch effort to get them used to people so they could realistically be pets and not just terrified of everyone.

In the cage, Savannah allowed us to pet her when she ate. Clementine would not approach us at all. We asked to see Savannah in their meeting room.

She hid and hissed at us the entire time. Hair on end, ears flat, completely terrified. But I saw something in her while she was in that cage where she had spent so much time. Savannah had the ability to warm up, she just needed the time and patience to help her.

We couldn’t decide if we wanted to adopt her though. It would take a lot of work, and they would probably NEVER be comfortable with people. My husband and I knew that if we took them home, we would be the ones to feed them and give them places to hide and exist as comfortably as possible. Take them to the vet and care for them. They would never be as friendly as Heimdall or Sif.

But the Pet Valu manager told us that they were getting out of their cute kitten phase where folks were willing to look past their issues because they were so young. They were already hard to home, but in a few weeks, they’d go back to their foster home permanently. Kept in a cage and kept away from people like feral cats.

So we asked if the girls were a bonded pair. The manager said “Well, Savannah would be okay since you have cats at home. But Clementine would probably decline.”

So without skipping a beat, my husband chimed in with, “Then we’ll take them both.”

They normally didn’t do this, but our friend let us take them home on a foster to adopt 2 week window.

At first, Clementine ran under the bed and stayed there. We made sure food, water, and a litter box was close by for them and just left them alone. Savannah stayed in the carrier, too terrified to even run out and join her sister. But eventually I moved the carrier closer, and Savannah darted under the bed and sat with her sister for HOURS.

But, they would eat and drink after a few hours. We heard them use the litter box in the night. We left them alone and just spent a lot of time in the room with them. We didn’t reach for them, or try and grab them or pet them. Everything was on their terms. As long as they were eating, drinking, and going to the bathroom, they were okay.

In less than a week, something amazing happened. These two kittens who were so scared of people began to come out of their shells. We couldn’t hold them, but they climbed into the cat tree and made noises in order to get our attention. Savannah did it first. Clementine tried to imitate her sister, but never quite got the hang of it, (and Citra has her wonderful little honk from that).

We thought of names. We just couldn’t think of anything that fit them. But then my husband, an avid beer drinker, suggested “Citra and Simcoe”, after hop variants. Cute names for little orange girls, and it kept the “C” and “S” names from Clementine and Savannah.

With that, they were named. And obviously, they were home with us.

They had a lot of growing to do. After a trip to the vet, we found out that both girls had FHV. Citra was able to eventually shake it after an ear infection, but Simcoe remains symptomatic on and off to this day. We work with our vet to keep her symptoms in check. Sometimes it’s just her being a little sniffly. Sometimes she sneezes. Sometimes she has discharge from her eyes or nose. She’s on some vitamins to help her immune system, and we keep a humidifier for her running all the time.

So how are they now?

I’m honestly still emotional over the huge turn around these amazing girls did. I’ll give you the run down one at a time.

Citra:

Our funny little Citra bear has gotten so much better at looking for human attention. At first, she didn’t want ANY. But now, she approaches our friends for pets, even if she’s not quite sure how to do it. Since she missed that ideal socialization window, she’s a little unsure about how to seek affection. She’ll often lean her head forward in that typical “head-butt” way, but while doing that she’ll walk away. She’s still skittish when it comes to people, but she will stand on the table and honk at you until you reach your hand out and let her try and pet herself on your hand.

However, she absolutely ADORES the other cats in the house. When we finally introduced them (slowly, slowly OH so slowly) to the other cats, she immediately gravitated towards Heimdall and Sif. She became fast friends with Heimdall, while remaining absolute best friends with her sister. They sleep, play, and groom together so well. As I type this Citra is laying with both Heimdall AND Seymour on the bed.

Citra also has an A+ blep, along with just being incredibly silly. She’s an absolute joy.

Simcoe:

Our shy little girl has become a huge snuggle bug. She sleeps with us every single night and she absolutely loves being touched and pet. She’s very shy around people who aren’t my husband or I. But I tell people who visit if they want to see Simcoe, just come into the bedroom, close the door, and sit down on the floor. Sooner or later, she’ll come over and rub up against you. She requires a gentle voice and a gentle touch, but she was so starved for affection I feel like she’s making up for it now that she knows she’s safe.

I mentioned her health, and because she’s so sick, sometimes she gets too nauseated to eat from being congested. And, as I said before, we’ve worked very hard with our vet to get Simcoe to the best weight she can be and keeping her as healthy as possible. One of her triggers for FHV is stress, and with such a skittish cat, it’s very difficult. However, living in a cage would have been infinitely worse for this wonderful girl.

Simcoe has the sweetest expressive eyes. Sometimes I just sit down and pet her for so long because I remember how happy she was when she finally let us touch her. She was so starved for attention and when she finally got it, she didn’t want it to stop (it never will).

Citra and Simcoe are still each other’s best friends. They sleep together, play together, groom each other, share their food (they have separate bowls but they will just switch back and forth).

I’m always so proud to see how far these amazing little cats have come. Simcoe used to hiss at me when I put her food down. Citra never made noise before coming to live with us. It was worth every single long hour waiting for them to get comfortable enough to eat with me in the same room. Or being willing to walk down the hallway and go into the kitchen. Or finally rolling over and showing us their bellies.

These girls are the ones that inspired me to get my certification.

We took a chance on them, and they were their own beautiful reward.

#happy healthy cats #cat behaviorist #feline behaviorist #cat story #cat stories #cat #feline #simcoe #citra #simcoe and citra #citra and simcoe #orange and white cat #orange cat #semi feral cats #fhv

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darktammy · 6 years

Text

New roses in my Womb (part 3)

Tags @instantbouquetdestinysblog @thelonelunatic @cosmic--daydream @sausagefest1996 @sassybrose @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @nonnirenea @purpleskiesandcherrypies @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @drxcleaner @deanseths @thatwrestlingfan91 @theneverendingthirst @ambrollinsbabe

You laid in bed with Kenny’s t-shirt on covering your whole body, you look up at the ceiling thinking about what Dean said to you. You read the note over and over again thinking this is crazy he don’t mean it right? You sat up in bed still thinking about it still. It’s been two days since that night, two days since he did what he did touching your thigh making you touch your thigh. Making you bite your lower lips every time you think about it. Dean it seems he's been in your mind a lot lately. The way he grins at you eyes full of whatever it is his thinking of making you feel numb. You start to move your hand down to your core as you close your eyes thinking of him, no you can’t your with Kenny, but Dean his in your mind again.

You see him sitting down on the chair from the dinner table. You laying on his dinner table with your legs open you start to rub yourself making yourself moan every time you circle your bud thinking of Dean sitting there watching you playing with yourself. “Yeah Y/N that’s it keep rubbing yourself.” You thought Dean would say to you. You took your other hand sticking two fingers inside of you making you moan even louder than before. “Oh god Dean is this good enough for your cock? I want it so bad please give it to me baby please!!” You keep saying as you imagine him right in front of you. Dean leaning in as you keep pleasing yourself. “I will I need you to come for me.” You added another finger inside of you pumping yourself as you rub your bud picturing Dean smiling at you pleasing yourself. “Your a little slut there Y/N, teasing me like that baby girl. I’m going to enjoy eating your pussy out so much your going to be screaming my name.” You started to feel a knot your stomach, you know that feeling your getting close. “Yes Dean I’m your little slut, I’m a dirty girl for you, yes I’m so close baby yes!” You imagine Dean getting up from the chair pulling for you to sit up as he grab a hand full of your hair kissing you hard then, his other hand grabbing and massaging your breast. It was enough for you to finally come undone, yelling out his name over and over again. You laid back down on your bed opening your eyes looking back up at the ceiling once more. “Oh my god what did I just do?” You look at the time it read 2:30 am. “I better get some sleep.” You said.

You waited for Kenny to come home with a smile on your face. You hugged him as you both headed back to your apartment. Once inside you and Kenny start to kisses each other making out with one another until you both had full blow on sex in the living space. After some time Kenny got up pulling his shorts on he look back to see you sleeping on the sofa. He headed to the room grabbing his shirt already he sees that you have already worn it. “Oh Y/N babe.” He laugh as he look over at the night stand seeing a note on there. He pick it up opening it as he read what it said. Kenny’s face went from excited to piss off fast. “Dean!” was all he could say as he rip the note in half. “I’m going to kill Dean once I see his ass.” Kenny turn around leaving the bedroom looking at you with small smile on his face. “Don’t worry Y/N I’ll keep you safe from now on.” He said blowing a kiss at you.

Once Monday came around Kenny had his eyes set on Dean, he didn’t care whoever or whatever gets in his way, he was going to get his hands on him. The night started off pretty good the show ran fine, then it was time for Kenny to come out to talk about what happened last week on Raw. This time instead of talking about bobby he was going to talk about Dean, but how so can he do it. Kenny knows that you were watching so he knew he had to make it count. “So looks like I have a bone to pick with a few dogs if you all get what I’m saying.” The crowded cheer Kenny on. “You see people I think I need to set someone in that little three men group a massage. One that I think needs to understand, he needs to know that he can’t have what I have. He needs to know that the lunatic can’t have what belongs to Omega.” A loud siren noise was made then the heavy guitar riff after then Dean walks out wearing a leather jacket with his skinny jeans holding a mic with that same smug look on his face.

Dean look at Kenny in the ring as he held the mic close to his mouth. “Did I hear you correctly Kenny? You said what belong to you? Like what your title? Oh wait I forgot you don’t have one, so what the hell are you talking about?” Making the crowd laugh at what Dean said. Kenny who at this point was ready to lose his mind. “Oh think you know that little note you left me last week that said ‘I’ll make sure…’ you’ll make sure of what Dean?” Dean’s face want from confuse to surprise because now he knew what Kenny was talking about. The note Dean left you last week with the stuff animal in the bag.

Dean was mad now that Kenny found out about it. “What I mean to say was I’ll make sure I kick your ass.” Dean said throwing the mic down then walking down the ramp. Making Kenny toss his mic out the ring ready for Dean to enter which he did, as they both started to throw blows at one another. Dean giving Kenny a clean uppercut to Kenny’s face making him laugh as Dean ran giving Kenny a closeline from hell making him lay flat on his back. Dean fell on his knees as he whisper to Kenny. “Y/N she’s a sweetheart the way she feels is exciting I know at night she thinks about me more than she does about you.” Kenny punch Dean hard in the face knowing that it was going to leave him a black eye. Kenny got up grabbing Dean ready to knee him in his face until Roman and Seth came for the save. Making Kenny run out of the ring so piss off that he started to trash talk about the whole thing.

Once backstage Undertaker, Hunter, and Shane where all in the back wondering what the hell was that out there. “Ok Maybe just maybe I got a little carried away from that.” Roman look at Kenny. “Boy you try to kill my bro!” Seth tried to keep Roman back. “Hey everyone calm down right now!” Taker said looking at everyone in the room. “Kenny I don’t what’s really going on in that head of yours, but you better and I mean you better watch what you say or what hell you do next time, do you understand?” Kenny nodded his head then he looks over at Dean with death stare.

Back on the bus Dean was on his phone watching a video while Kenny was catching up on some of his favorite Japanese shows he use to watch back in Japan with you. His phone rings only to see you calling him. It put a smile on his face as he answered. “Hey babe how's everything?” You smiled as you was taking a bubble bath. “I’m fine babe just taking my bath drinking wine.” As you sip your wine glass. “Yeah I know how much you love drinking wine when you take a bubble bath. So yeah let me guess you called about what you saw?” You nodded your head, “well yeah babe I mean what happened right there? I know what made you snap, but what?” Kenny sigh as he look out the window. “Try to understand your mine and for Dean to leave that note for you, nah I don’t think so. I did what I did and yeah I got in trouble for it.” You giggled a little as you and Kenny start talking about both your nights. Little did Kenny know Dean was listening while Seth and Roman nodded here heads to one another.

On the next week Kenny had a match with Seth which turn out to be a great match between them. Kenny pick up the win as he walk up the ramp while the crowd goes wild. Seth sat there in the ring in shock. Kenny headed to the back getting ready to change just so he can head to the hotel. “Kenny?” A female voice was heard in the back. “Cara?” Kenny said. “Hey Kenny long time no see. How you been?” He nodded his head as look down at her. “I’m fine just doing great with myself yeah. How about you Cara how's life?” He said with a smile smile. Cara and Kenny’s past was pretty much ok. Kenny being in Japan Cara being in america it was hard for them but they tried to make it work until one day Cara just told Kenny that she couldn’t do it so they ended it as friends.

Kenny smiles as they both started to walk away together talking about how everything is. “You know Kenny I’m glad you’re here in america, I mean look around it’s great your going to love the food the action you know.” Cara spoke. Kenny laugh as he look at her. “Yeah I know but I’m here because I want to end my career with WWE.” Cara look up at Kenny with a smile. “Oh yeah then what?” Kenny smiled as he look up into the sky. “Then move back to Japan and marry Y/N.” Cara stop as she look at Kenny. “You mean the writer the one who makes all those poems in her book Y/N?” He nodded his head. “Well that’s great I mean….it’s good.” She said with fake smile. “I know I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her you know?” Cara nodded her head as they both started walking again.

Cara and Kenny walk back to the hotel entering the lobby, little did they know Dean and Roman were both sitting in the bar watching them both enter then sitting next to each other ordering drinks. “Who’s the chick?” Dean said. “That my friend is Cara Kenny’s ex.” Karl said to him, “Why the hell is she hear?” Karl said. “Who know maybe to break up Kenny and Y/N?” Roman said. Dean look back at Roman. “Oh yeah I bet she can do one hell of good job with that.” Dean said laughing at them.

Kenny and Cara start laugh while Cara start to take shots while Kenny just drank down his soda. “So Kenny how long have you both been dating?” Kenny laugh at Cara, “Yeah we’ve been together for two years so yeah. We meet in Japan when she was doing her book signing and I was like wow.” He laugh while Cara just look at him. “You know Kenny I love her, I love her books I mean she’s a great writer and all.” Cara said looking up at him, “But I missed you so much I just wishes we could have work things out a little better then what I made.” Cara look up at him as he moved her finger over Kenny’s lips.

Kenny look down at Cara then he turn his head the other way. “Cara were just friends now I’ve move on I’m with Y/N now so me and you are done. You even said it yourself.” Cara started to cry, “Please Kenny can we please try it again?” Kenny shook his head as got up paying for the drinks. Cara got up as she walk with Kenny back to her hotel room. Once upstairs Kenny help Cara enter her room as he laid her down on her Cara kiss Kenny as he move back from her. “Kenny please?” Kenny look down at her as lean in kissing Cara back. Dean was on the outside of Cara hotel room door hearing the noise. “Damn Kenny.” Dean walk away from the door and enter his hotel room laid down on his side of the bed looking over at Roman nodded his head. “Yeah Kenny gave in you was right?” Dean gave Roman the $100 as they both watch a movie.

You sat on your sofa watching your favorite show on Netflix you look over to see the door to you apartment open just to see Kenny rushing in. “Hey baby how was the live show?” As you got up from the sofa walking to Kenny then he grabs your face kissing you hard. You move your head over just so you can talk. “Kenny I miss you as well clam down.” Kenny pick you up then laid you down on the sofa. “You know what Y/N let’s have a baby right now.” You sat up looking at Kenny. “What?” Kenny start to to take his clothes off, “Y/N please have my baby will ya.” You nodded as you took off your bathrobe. That night you and Kenny made love and rough sex all because Kenny made one little mistake.

#kenny omega x reader #Kenny Omega #dean ambrose #roman reigns #fan fiction #fanfic #fanficwwe #WWE #dean ambrose x kenny omega

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wistfulcynic · 6 years

Text

Another Brick In The Wall: Chapter 8

a/n: Effusive thanks to @hollyethecurious for the artwork! I love it so much! Thanks also to everyone for reading, commenting, kudos-ing, and reblogging! I'm so pleased by the way people have been engaging with this story. Love you all xxx

Summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with.

Rating: T

Tags for: @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 and @resident-of-storybrooke

Chapter 8:

Killian was out of school for a week, for a “mental health break” he called it with a chuckle, apparently a term he’d gotten from Dr Hopper. He saw the psychiatrist daily during this break and spent the rest of his time at the harbour with Liam, working on their boat, reading, playing his guitar, and talking with his brother about everything that had happened.

“We’ve hashed it all out in excruciating detail,” he told Emma as they sat together in the boat’s cabin, she working on her college essays while he practiced a new song. “It’s such a relief to be able to really talk to Liam again. There was a time when we had no secrets between us. He showed me all the information he had collected on Milah and her situation. Apparently her divorce is almost finalised and next month she’s starting a job teaching English in Japan.” He smiled. “She’ll like that, a chance to travel. What she always wanted.”

“Hmmmph,” said Emma, glaring at the screen of her laptop as she typed rapidly.

“Swan,” he admonished, giving her a mock scowl as he strummed a chord at her.

Emma slammed her hands down on the keyboard. “Killian, I just don’t know how you can be so forgiving after what she did to you.”

He set the guitar aside and his expression became serious. “I have to be, don’t you see?” he asked, looking at her intently. “I can’t hold on to my anger or it will eat me alive. I didn’t even realise how angry I was until Dr Hopper helped me see it, and how by not acknowledging it, allowing myself to feel it, and then letting it go, I was only hurting myself. Besides, I did genuinely care about Milah, and I’m glad she’s finally in a place where she can be happy.”

“Hmmmmph.” Emma concentrated on deleting the gibberish she’d produced by her attack on the keyboard.

“A place that doesn’t include me,” said Killian brightly, picking up the guitar again and plucking out a cheery tune. “That’s good, isn’t it Swan?”

“I suppose so,” she grumbled. “Though I’d still prefer if the place was dark and scary and full of nettles.” He laughed heartily at that and she couldn’t hold back an answering smile. “Hey, I’m nearly done with this, will you read it over and make sure it’s okay? Just check my grammar and punctuation and stuff.”

“Of course, love, though I’m sure it’s already brilliant.”

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

Freed from the weight of his worry and guilt, Killian gradually began to smile more easily, and his witty, teasing nature (“cheeky git,” Liam called him, his voice irritated but with a relief so profound it bordered on joy in his eyes) came more readily to the fore. When he returned to school the following Monday, he moved through the halls with a swagger that Emma had never seen on him before. Unlike the arrogant, bullying one that Neal always had Killian’s evoked a simple self-assurance that she had to concede looked really good on him. Despite how much emotional baggage he still had to work through he clearly wasn’t burdened by shame anymore, and equally clearly did not intend to take any crap from anyone.

This made itself evident that morning when he shut his locker and turned towards his first class, only to find himself confronted by Felix and Rufio.

“Really, chaps?” he said, raising an eyebrow at them. “You couldn’t even wait until after school so you could chuck me into the bins, like proper high school bullies?”

This mockery went clean over the other boys’ heads, and they continued to block his path, trying to look intimidating while also trying not to be intimidated by Killian’s calm demeanor and his amused expression.

Felix, the sligtly cleverer of the two, suspected he was being laughed at but couldn’t put his finger on why. He didn’t like it.

Bristling, he sneered at Killian. “Bet you think you’ve won,” he snarled. “Now that Neal’s in jail and out of the way. Now you can move in on Emma like you did on that—” he broke off as Killian stepped into his space. There wasn’t much difference in height between them, but somehow Felix had the impression of Killian towering over him, his face calm but his eyes darkly furious, and for once in his life he felt a stab of genuine fear.

“I’m only going to say this once,” growled Killian in the new, lower register his voice had taken on more often of late, “So you’d better listen carefully. Your mate Neal is a criminal, and not even a good one. He’s in jail because he’s stupid, and that’s nothing to do with me. I have no doubt it’s where he’d always have ended up eventually. Bit of advice: If you’re going to steal confidential information, don’t take pictures of the evidence on your phone, and definitely don’t then show those pictures to the sheriff’s daughter. Neal got what he deserved. I now consider this matter closed, and if you or anyone else—” he raised his voice so that the rapidly assmbling crowd of onlookers could all hear, “—tries to take it any further, you will not care for the repercussions.”

Felix wasn’t sure what “repercussions” were, but the hint of repressed violence in Killian’s manner made him keen not to find out. He had always been content to follow Neal, less out of respect for the other boy than a simple unwillingness to make a thing out of Neal’s belligerent insistence that he should be the one in charge, but he’d always sensed that there wasn’t much substance underneath Neal’s bluster. Killian however didn’t bluster. He simply stated facts, and Felix could tell that he was not the sort of person to make a threat he couldn’t back up with action. Perhaps it was time to step out of Neal’s shadow, thought Felix, and take over leadership of their little gang. He certainly couldn’t do a worse job of it than Neal had, and escalating a pointless conflict with a guy who looked prepared to fight dirty if necessary was much more Neal’s style than Felix’s. He nodded at Killian, and stepped back. Rufio looked surprised but followed his lead.

Killian nodded back then transferred his glare to the crowd of onlookers, which had grown considerably in the past thirty seconds and now included Emma and Ruby, he could see out of the corner of his eye. “As for what you may have heard about me,” he said, loudly enough for all to hear. “It’s all true.” He smirked for a moment as a gasp went through the crowd, then his expression hardened. “It’s also no one’s business but mine, and those in whom I choose to confide. This is all I have to say on the subject. Now, if you’ll all excuse me I don’t wish to be late for class.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder and headed down the hall, turning his head briefly to shoot Emma a wink. People moved aside to let him pass and as soon as he had turned the corner furious whispering erupted in his wake.

Ruby pursed her lips. “I may have underestimated him,” she remarked.

Emma’s heart was pounding, a familiar occurrence where Killian was concerned, but this time it felt different. She’d been worried about how he would react to the ineveitable curiosity and questions from their classmates, but this smooth handling of a potentially explosive situation instead of calming her fears instead filled her with the wild desire to run after him, to fling herself into his arms and kiss them both breathless.

“He’s just so wonderful,” she sighed, and Ruby laughed.

“Down, girl,” she teased. “I’ll grant you this one’s worth your time, unlike the douchemaster general, but remember we’re in school. No one wants to see that.”

Emma rolled her eyes and gave her friend a shove, but the butterflies continued rhumba-ing around her insides, this time accompanied by an odd, hollow sort of ache as she remembered her resolution not to pursue Killian anymore. She was now all but certain that she loved him, that beyond the hot, tingly sensation she always felt in his presence lay a profound devotion. She would do anything for him, sacrifice anything to give him what he needed, and that terrified her. For the first time in her life Emma felt vulnerable, exposed, as though her chest were torn open and her heart lain bare to the mercies of fate and one gorgeous, troubled boy. She hated it. Even knowing that Killian would never intentionally hurt her was no consolation when the truth was that he could hurt her simply by caring deeply for her as a friend. If that was all she could ever have from him she would take it, she knew, without pushing for more, but it would be a wound on her heart that would never heal.

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

“He’s a bully,” shrugged Killian at lunchtime, when Emma, this time accompanied by a very inquisitive Ruby, found him in the library. “Bullies are just cowards at their core, and cowards are easy to intimidate. He won’t do anything because he won’t want to call my bluff. I might not be able to back it up but he’ll be too scared to risk finding out.”

“And what would you have done if he had called your bluff?” inquired Ruby.

Killian shrugged again. “Probably got the shit kicked out of me.”

“Would you have, though?” Ruby pressed, watching him through narrowed eyes.

He returned her stare with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “There were two of them to only one of me. Seems inevitable.”

“Does it?” Ruby’s disbelief was almost palpable, and having fenced with Killian for months now Emma shared her friend’s suspicion that he was deliberately underplaying his fighting skills.

“Let’s hope we never have to find out,” said Killian with a small smile, in a tone of voice that made it clear he would answer no more questions on the subject. “I quite like my face arranged the way it is.”

“It is a nice face,” said Ruby with a wolfish grin that widened as Killian’s ears turned pink. “But I didn’t come here just to flatter you. Victor asked me to ask you if he could have your phone number.”

“My number?” Killian blinked in surprise.

“Yeah, there’s some concert in Portland and he doesn’t have anyone to go with and he thought you might be interested.”

“Um, sure, I guess.” Killian rattled off the number and Ruby sent Victor a text. A minute later his phone buzzed and he looked at it, snorting as he read the message. “Bit of a wanker, your boyfriend,” he remarked to Ruby.

“I don’t know what that is but I’m somehow sure that Victor is one,” smirked Ruby. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“Not at all, I’m rather fond of wankers,” said Killian absently as he typed his reply. “My brother is one, after all.” His phone buzzed again almost instantly and he raised an eyebrow at what he read on it.

“Ems, I think maybe we should leave the boys to their chat,” said Ruby, and as much as she hated to sacrifice free time with Killian, from the way he was fixated on his phone, his expression almost gleeful as he typed rapidly, Emma had to admit she was probably right.

“Okay,” she said. “See you in class in a few minutes, Killian. And maybe hang out after school?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I have an appointment with Dr Hopper at four, but I can text you when I’m done.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him but his attention was back on his phone, so she followed Ruby out of the library trying not to feel too disgruntled. Killian should have other friends, she told herelf firmly, male ones who shared his interests. That was normal, and he could use some normal in his life right now.

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

Over the next few weeks, things at school settled back into a routine, albeit one that was markedly different than it had been. Neal had been officially arrested after David’s investigation, charged with burglary, theft, and theft of a medical record, and was facing up to five years in prison. His parents had put up their house as collateral to pay his bail, but weren’t allowing him to return to school.

“Not much point when he’ll just go straight back to the slammer after he’s sentenced,” said Ruby viciously. “So much for that football scholarship he was so cocky about.”

Emma tried to find some compassion for Neal and what was basically the wreck and ruin of his future, but couldn’t dredge up a single particle of it. He had committed several felonies for no other reason than to stick it to Killian for outsmarting him and for becoming her friend, and he’d committed them flagrantly and with no thought to the consequences. He’d probably thought there wouldn’t be any consequences. Killian was right: Neal deserved everything that was coming to him, if only for being so colossally, arrogantly stupid.

People still whispered about Killian as he walked through the halls but true to character he paid little attention. He did, however, gradually began to open up more and allow more of himself to show through his defences, willingly participating in classes and talking to people other than Emma and Ruby. By the time finals week arrived had actually made a few friends.

Killian reflected wryly that in a twisted sort of way Neal had done him a favour. With all his secrets now out on the open he was free to embrace the opportunity for a new life he’d found in Storybrooke. Not that there had been anything particularly wrong with the old life, at least since his father had finally left. He’d been a mean old drunk, Brennan Jones, and by the time he’d been forced to flee his creditors for good, stealing a boat from Bristol harbour and melting into the offshore underworld, his sons had been glad to see the back of him. Killian thought about what he himself had been like back then, before Milah, and even though it had only been about a year since he’d first become involved with her so much had changed both in his circumstances and in himself, he feared that hopeful, enthusiastic boy was lost forever. Who exactly had taken his place was the question Killian had asked himself daily for weeks now, and he still wasn’t sure how to answer it. He’d become so used to holding everything in, to keeping such a tight rein on his thoughts and feelings that letting them out, accepting that it was okay to express them had become almost unbelievably difficult. The only person he felt even remotely comfortable being fully himself with aside from Liam was Emma, whose support and friendship remained unwavering as he bumbled and struggled thorough the reclamation of his life, and he remained intensely grateful for it.

Only one thing about Emma troubled him-- that she no longer seemed to be interested in anything beyond his friendship. All the little hints and cues she had been giving him since they’d met were suddenly gone, and while he was relieved to be free of the added stress of constantly resisting something that part of him desperately wanted, he couldn’t help wondering if there was a darker motivation for this abrupt about-face. Perhaps, whispered an evil little voice in his head, Emma was actually more disgusted by his past than she let on and was simply too kind to tell him directly. Maybe the thought of him touching her turned her stomach now. He certainly couldn’t blame her if it did.

“What do you want from your relationship with Emma?” asked Dr Hopper one afternoon, after Killian had finally brought himself to mention the change in her behaviour. “Do you want it to be romantic?”

Killian frowned, struggling to sort through the complex tangle of his feelings about and for Emma. “I don’t want a romantic relationship with anyone,” he said finally. “I still feel too messed up for anything like that. But I— I’m still really attracted to her. I think about her all the time, about how we kissed at her party, and I want to kiss her again pretty much constantly, but then I remember Milah and how I thought I felt about her, and I just—”

“You don’t trust your judgement.”

“Yeah.”

“Killian, it’s important for you to remember that you have a much more equal relationship with Emma than you ever did with Milah.”

“Equal, with Emma?” Killian snorted. “You have met her, right?”

Dr Hopper smiled patiently. “I understand that you feel she’s beyond your reach, and that’s a separate issue, but what I mean by equal is that she’s your age and at your stage of life. With Milah you were constantly struggling to relate to her life and her experiences, and when you couldn’t you attempted to make up for that by offering her the affection and sexual attention she craved. You forced yourself to offer these things even though you didn’t genuinely feel them because you feared the consequences of not offering them. But with Emma there is no need to manufacture anything. She is placing no demands on you and therefore any attraction and affection you feel for her is genuine.”

“But what should I do about it?”

“Why should you have to do anything? You said you’re not ready for a romantic relationship, and that’s fine. Let yourself heal. The process is slow and frustrating, but believe me you are making progress. Let your feelings for Emma and your relationship with her develop at a pace that is comfortable for you. From what you’ve said it sounds like she will still be there when, if, you’re ready for more.”

“It’s more than likely she no longer wants more. And even if she did, what happens when she meets someone who isn’t so hopelessly fucked up? Then where does that leave me?”

“Why don’t you worry about that if —not when— it happens?”

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

On the last day before winter break, Emma nervously approached Killian’s locker and handed him an invitation to her parents’ annual Christmas party addressed to him and Liam.

“It’s just a thing they do every year for their friends and our neighbours,” she began to ramble as he examined the card, certain he would refuse and wanting to delay that painful moment. “My mom loves to entertain, and my dad says it’s good for building a rapport between law enforcement and the community, and—”

“Swan,” interrupted Killian, giving her that soft, indulgent look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I’m sure we’d love to attend. Thank you for inviting us.”

The butterflies soared in a grand jeté, and she felt like she was flying with them. “Great,” she said trying to keep her voice calm, “I guess I’ll see you then.”

Her delighted smile made his breath catch, and his answering grin set her heart galloping. Their eyes met and held, and as the end of semester chaos whirled around them they stood a breath apart, swathed in frustrated yearning and brittle tension, the only two people in the world.

Then the final bell rang, and they leapt apart, Emma smoothing her skirt with shaking hands while Killian ran his own trembling fingers through his hair.

“So, onion rings at Granny’s?” ventured Emma, wanting to kick herself for making him nervous again, after all her resolutions, hoping desperately he wouldn’t pull away.

Killian sighed in relief, tinged with a hint of disappointment. Granny’s was safe. “Sounds perfect, love,” he said.

#cs au ff #high school au #teenage captain swan #captain duckling #lieutenant duckling #another brick in the wall #profdanglaisstuff

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dont-follow-me-im-scared · 5 years

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This weeks assignment per my therapist

"Be nice to yourself"

RELATIONSHIP: Ive been down on myself lately and feeling guilty. "No one else has these thoughts. Everyone else has to be happily married and I'm just not getting it" I thought this. For a long time. I was mean to myself and told myself I didnt deserve my family because of the thoughts ive had. Ive forced myself to be way more intimate with H even on nights I honest to the gods cringed at the idea. I pushed myself back toward that stepford mentality of house needs to be clean dinner needs to be made everything needs to be done get it done. Thats not healthy for me. Maybe it works for others im sure it does but none of this is healthy for me. So I'm going to back off. I'm going to say no to fishing when I need help with the house. I'm going to say no when the thought of being touched by anyone makes me want to cry because ive had a tiny human all over me. I'm going to say no to dinner request when ive already done a couple this week. I'm going to say no and not feel guilty. If he needs an explanation I'll give one but hes not like that. I'll tell him no and he will say ok and move on. He understands I get overwhelmed and shut down. He tries to help bless him but he usually cant unless I tell him EXACTLY what to do. I'm going to try and be more sincere and playful like when we were dating. I'm going to try and set aside some time to actually talk to him and not about work or D. I'm going to try and show him I still see my amazing husband in there because I do. We both just need to relax a little.

MOTHERHOOD: I'm definitely horrible to myself in this department. Most nights im in bed wondering what I did wrong and how I can do better tomorrow. Most the time my almost 2 year old can push me to yell. I really try not to and I try not to spank her but she just does not listen. I often see myself in the attitude thrown my way and can combat it well but im afraid its going to hurt our relationship in the future. I resented my mom for alot of things and I'm terrified of that. So this week im going to tell myself how kick ass I actually am. Shes almost potty trained completely. Shes making a transition to a toddler bed on her birthday. Shes sleeping through the night now fully no midnight sippy. Shes speaking in almost full senteces and the child loves her books. She has a cubby hole in her closet with a light she can reach where she can get on Top of her hope chest and read her books. Which she does. I mean she looks at the pictures but she can do it for about 45 minutes before she has to potty. She eats basically everything put in front of her. She throws away her trash. She says please and thank you. She can point to where shes not feeling good and she tells me when shes ready for bed. And she can name like 10 different animals and make their noises. Like for a two year old I feel like shes doing great and ive 80% raised her because H has been away for work. I need to be nicer to myself. I need to let myself be ok with her playing solo and me getting some chores done or just enjoy my coffee. And its ok to ignore house work some days and focus on her. What weve been doing seems to be working just fine so I'm going to sick with it until I have to change.

MY BODY: so for a while ive had a problem. It just kinda snuck up on me. I went to the gym everyday for two months and worked out until I puked. I pushed myself harder than I ever had. And yet when I looked in the mirror I literally saw myself getting worse looking in my own eyes. All the progress I clearly knew I was making was twisted in my brain. So I pushed myself harder I ate less I took higher scoops of my prework out and I smoked like a freight train. So I had to stop going all together when I just kinda realized what was slowly happening. I was getting some kind of body disorder because I needed to place some guilt somewhere. It was the only way I could beat myself up and no one could say anything. It was the only time I could truly make myself feel like shit and no one would actually noticed. I'm going to start back in the gym this week. But I am not going to deny my own progress when it happens. I will not go if I honestly dont feel like it or if I feel like I'm going to be mean to myself. I will be nicer to my body because its been through some serious shit and its still going.

These are going to be hard for me but that's the point of therapy right. To give us tools to help break down stuff in our life and help make it better. We arent meant to do it alone so why do we. Be nicer to yourselves this week y'all. Pick an area and focus.

#therapy #assignment #nicer to yourself #take a break #take a breath #things get better

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sweetlifetownsville · 6 years

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To End The Year, A Mini-Magpie With A Mini Mystery.

Has mega-fraudster Craig Gore skipped Australia? And if so, why hasnt this been reported in the media especially since he is supposed to have made a midnight flit the very day after a judge refused to allow him to leave? In other matters, one has to admit that the Townsville Bulletin is consistent it has ended the year as it started, continuing its weekly Olympic-standard shambles. And Mongrel the Barrister has left us lawyer Mark Donnelly, the man who inspired a much loved Magpie character has passed away. and our final visit to Trumpistan for 2018. But first Its hard to keep a good man down, and our fav toonist Bentley is nothing if not a good man. Even in the holiday season, he casts his jaundiced eye over the news, and brings us a different and rib-tickling perspective. This week, he was much taken as most of us were with the drone drama at Gatwick Airport in the UK. A professional drone was reported in the airports approach and departure air space, and thousands of travellers were stuck when the whole shebang was shut down for a couple of days while the wallopers tried to go hi-tech and trace the source of the bastardry. Its not fully sorted yet, but Bentley thinks the drone may have already met its fate.

Why Arent All The Gore-y Details Available?

Will ye no come back agin, laddie? Now to our mini-mystery. On December 19, this report appeared in the Courier Mail. Judge denies disgraced former rich-lister Craig Gore request to travel overseas Vanessa Marsh, The Courier-Mail December 20, 2018 2:21pm A DISGRACED former rich-lister accused of ripping off almost $800,000 from investors has broken down in court after a judge refused his request to leave the country to visit family. Lawyers for alleged fraudster Craig Gore today launched an application in the Queensland District Court, seeking for the former businessmans bail conditions to be altered to allow him to travel to Sweden to visit his wife and children. But Judge Paul Smith denied the request, saying Gore faced a long time in prison if convicted and there was a real risk he would not return to Australia to face trial. Gore is facing 12 charges of fraud over allegations he swindled about $800,000 from self-managed super fund investors in 2013-14. He also faces three charges of managing companies while disqualified. Now that seems pretty definitive and eminently sensible. But The Magpie was informed two days later, by a regular contact and mate who has always been on the money in the past, that Gore went back to court the next day on another application, and had his passport returned so he could be with his family in Sweden at Christmas. He was to return in three months to face trial and possibility of a lengthy striped suntan. The Pies contact says Gore was on a flight out of Brisbane that night at 11pm, accompanied by a lawyer (that was apparently part of the arrangement) who will return with certain paperwork. Gore will be expected to make his own way back to face his fate in March. Yeah, right. Now all that is as it may be, BUT THIS SPECTACULAR REVERSAL OF A JUDGES IMPLACABLE DECISION HAS BEEN NEITHER EXPLAINED OR APPEARED IN THE MEDIA. Well, not that The Magpie can find, after days of searching to verify. If it is true, there will be a hell of a lot of very pissed off people Gores victims and the tireless investigators who nailed him who know just how long are the odds that we will ever see this shyster again. Shades of Skase!! Perhaps we will never know how this came about if it did come about because there will be a lofty judicial silence of unaccountability if he is a no show but surely the second hearing was an open court? Hard to fathom why it wasnt reported. Mongrel The Barrister Is No More The Magpies good mate Mark Sludge Donnelly the man who partially inspired the popular Magpie character Mongrel the Barrister, died in his family home in Cairns last weekend. It is fair to say that Mark was my best mate in the halcyon days of Portraits Bar in the Exchange Hotel all through the Noughties, the years when I was reporting court matters for the Bulletin. We were part of a memorable and disparate group, the bar crowded with our marvellously mixed group every Thursday, Friday and sometimes Saturday nights. (The fondly remembered Portraits became Poseurs Bar in the newspaper column and then in this blog.) Mark was universally known as Sludge, which he happily answered to, but never fully explained, even to me, its origins apparently it had something to do with a memorable comment from a lecturer or senior teacher suggesting Marks behaviour at that time some comparable to something from the bottom of a pond. Sludge was one of the wittiest people Ive known, and his memory was nothing short of astounding, not just for quoting legal precedents but in all things, particularly pop music. He always commandeered the music machine at parties, and was a pretty good DJ. He also had an eye for a well turned ankle, and his way of getting ladies to talk about themselves endeared him to more than one. Like many a member of the Portraits push, Mark liked a drink, and some believed he was a bit too enthusiastic in this direction. But I would say that rather than having a battle with the bottle, he just had frequent skirmishes with it, as we all did and any excess rarely affected his work at the other more sedate bar, where he often shone. Mark left Townsville when his father died, to live with his mother in the family home in Cairns. He didnt practice in Cairns, and went into virtual retirement, which was plagued by ill health for some time. He returned to Townsville annually for his birthday, but I lost touch in the past few years, for which I feel a bit miserable now. Sludge is now undoubtedly arguing the finer points about the Laws of Entry with St Peter for that is certainly where this witty, soft-hearted old friend of mine now is because we all know God loves a larrikin. Mark was 62. They Really Dont Understand Language at The Astonisher, Do They? And they even get the wrong WORD for a headlines. Even when theyre trying to make a pun, which kinda depends on the right word, yes? But we got a headline quoting some bizoid saying Townsville is bracing for a great 2018. Bracing for? Ahem. Youve managed to say EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of what you meant. Heres the dictionary definition of bracing. verb[withobject] prepare (someone or oneself) forsomethingdifficult or unpleasant:both stations arebracingthemselvesforjoblosses|policeare braced fora trafficnightmare. So although this paper goes through life like a bouncing Hari Krishna whos visited the medicine cabinet once too often, giving us totally unquestioning, unexamined glop about our economy (usually from someone with a vested interest), it seem to have inadvertently hit on the truth here. However, the most tedious aspect of the paper of late is the dreary attempts at humour in headlines, particularly about crime, a subject no one in Townsville with the exception of you folks in Flinders Street, finds the least bit funny. AND EVEN THEN, LANGUAGE FAILS YOU let alone a sharp sense of humour.Take this major front page fail on Thursday.

Swindler? My dear headline writer, stay with me on this and read slowly, feel free to move your lips as you must. Now lets see, a swindler is someone who fiddles some unsuspecting victim out of something. That person would be called a fiddler, and if hidden in a ceiling, could be described as ta da a Fiddler In The Roof. You see, this would then coincide with the hit musical of the same name oh, how we would have all fallen about, clutching our sides in mirth, and holding your superior wit in such esteem!!! But swindler? Now weve just got a headache from smacking our foreheads yet again. And this one in simply NOT TRUE. This online

The actual number of people who said (or may have said, who knows, its probably a fiddled fantasy anyway) was 55% of the 700 or so people who responded to a totally uncontrolled survey. If there area 220,000 potential readers (ha! you wish) in the circulation area, the percentage is not even .5 of one percent. But we all know that the on-line edition is sloppy, so the paper itself will temper the outlandish claims, wont it? Errr no.

This is simply lying, and treating people like morons. And still they wonder But barely have we swallowed our anger before we start scratching our heads over weird genuinely weird stories like this, which would suggest that English isnt TEL boss Patricia OCallaghans first language, or she was suffering mild sunstroke when she was penned the media release from which the story was transcribed.

This story is selective twaddle certainly straight off an unedited media release from the Dudley Do Nothings, meaningless twaddle in which Ms OCallaghan specialises. It has often been said of her that she has the gift of the gab, and aint that the truth, just about all of what she has to say, in The Pies experience, is just that meaningless gabble that sounds good until it is more thoughtfully examined. Like this: The Museum of Underwater Art, located within the heart of The Great Barrier Reef, is a proposal based on the works of international sculpture and underwater artist Jason deCaires Taylor. Whats that bit located in the heart of the Great Barrier Reef? Has there been a Krakatoa-like geographic shift we havent noticed? The Underwater Museum, one of several planned along the coast, will be, at last report, just of Maggy Island, the GBR is a at least an hour or more away by fast cat . But in it goes to the story, with a newbie cub reporter just churning out this PR bumf. But wait, theres more. We then get this prize piece of meaningless gabble from the top executive charged with attracting and promoting tourism to Townsville: Its a project that is going to enhance the Great Barrier Reef experience and also educate visitors on how we manage and live with the reef everyday Ms OCallaghan said. That is absolute poppycock that is totally meaningless. And We? Bloody WE? FFS, girl, get a bloody grip. Insulting, uppity tripe from Ms OCallaghan and lazy, presumably unsupervised reporting (read: select all, copy and paste) by a very uncurious junior reporter (read: stenographer). Really, a monkey using scrabble board wouldve made more sense. The clusterfuck continues no wonder were so deep in the shit. Other matters As if golf didnt already have enough hazards.

Words of Wisdom From Two Funny Men

Frankie Boyle The cleverest quote of the week comes from the Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle in the Guardian. But first, his preamble touched a chord for The Magpie, who can vouch for it when Mr Boyle writes: The plight of the satirist, such as it is, is a compulsion to look at the grimmest, most important thing they can think of, and then for reasons that probably wouldnt survive a really good therapist, try to make it funny. To try to address the iniquities of their society, the satirist must manufacture some hope that what theyre doing might make a difference, then type it all up and send it off somewhere before they remember that it never does. Looking back over the events of this year is a bit like holding a doll for a therapist and pointing to where the bad man hurt you. Mr Boyles point is a universal one, which can be shared by Townsvilleans looking back over the past shambolic year. But his prize quote is so subtle, that you may have to think about for a while The Pie roared after a few seconds. The murder ofJamal Khashoggiby Saudi Arabia is another very difficult subject to find the lighter side of, unless someone in the Ecuadorean embassy has clipped the story out and stuck it to the fridge. (Sigh) Dear Mystified of Mysterton, it means that the Ecuadoreans might be giving their Wikileaks guest Julian Assange a hint.

Dave Barry The other funnyman worth a quote is the inimitable Dave Barry , the American columnist who talks about Florida the way The Magpie talks about Townsville only he is far funnier, proof being that The Magpie pinches more of his lines (many) than he does of The Magpies (none). This was his challenge to a graduating class, but it can just as well apply to the year 2019. How are you, Class, going to respond when the Clock-Radio of Challenge emits the Irritating Buzz of Opportunity? Are you going to roll over and hit the Snooze Button of Complacency? Or are you going to wake up and, after performing the Bodily Functions of Preparedness, boldly grasp the Toothbrush of Tomorrow? And no matter what you do in the coming year, make sure youre always politically correct, so no snowflakes will melt before your harsh words.

And So To This Week In Trumpistan First, compare Trump as Commander In Chief of real US soldiers, on his surprise visit to Iraq

Guess whos wondering if she packed the shampoo? with this.

And now to our final gallery of the year about the man Frankie Boyle described as this troll-doll King Lear, who looks like something youd pick off a baking tray after cooking pizza above it.

And Finally How The Hell ? The Pie has been occasionally upbraided for the use of naughty words in this blog well, one word in particular. He is aware that it can be confronting, but it is the other F word Frustration that compels him to sometimes resort to other for emphasis. Anyway, so what, if its good enough for Sesame Street, its good enough for The Pie. .. So that was the year that was, and what a rip-snorter we have coming up. Turns out this edition wasnt so mini after all. Comments run throughout the holiday break 24/7, so you dont have to wait to have your say. And the New Year will look even rosier for the old bird if you think the Nest is worth a small donation to keep it neat and tidy. The how to donate button is below. HAPPY NEW YEAR, YALL. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/to-end-the-year-a-mini-magpie-with-a-mini-mystery/

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jujubieberbae · 8 years

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Advice PT 2

Warnings: Smut

ORIGINAL Request: Hey can u make a part 2 to advice, like idk a few years later and y/n is still a virgin and like she is in a relationship and the guy wants to have sex with her but she’s insecure about it so she end up asking justin to take her virginity cuz he’s the only one she trusts and then the end is up to you

This has been so heavily requested and I’ve just been busy. I’ve got four exams coming up this week….THE STRESS!! But here it is anyways.

Savorous flavour exploded throughout my mouth, the crunch of crispy goodness so satisfying to my ears. Dusting my bright red finger’s of the dust residue from the product onto my pants. Something about flamin’ hot cheetos was just so addictive, and I honestly could not put the packet down.

“Hey, stop hogging the Cheetos.” A raspy voice, with a mouthful of candy suddenly chirped from beside me. Fiddling my legs around his lap slightly, I leaned back against the armrest of the couch and hugged the packet towards my body further, pointing towards him with a bright red stained finger.

“I’ll stop hogging the Cheetos when you stop hogging the Twizzlers.” I replied sassily.

Justin looked down at the king size packet of twizzlers in his lap, then down at the cheetos in mine, before looking back into my curious eyes. “Swap?”

Confliction passed over my face. Is a pack of twizzlers really worth a bag of cheetos? “Only if I get the Snickerz as well.”

“What?! No way. Only If I get the Reese’s Cups.”

“Hmm? Deal.”

The rattling of wrappers, bags and packaging echoed throughout the air as we exchanged candies between each other, a smile settling on my face once the twizzlers were in my hand, practically drooling at the pinky red goodness.

“So.” Justin suddenly began, munching on a now open packet of reese’s cups. “How’s that boyfriend of yours going?”

My eyes shot away from the candy in front of me, the sound of T.V in front of us suddenly disappearing into the back of my mind. “Why do you ask?”

Justin eyes me suspiciously, “What do you mean ‘why do you ask’? We always talk about our relationships, does it bother you now?” He raised his eyebrows, reaching over towards the bag of jolly ranchers between both our legs.

Yes, I know. We bought a lot of Candy.

“No, It’s just, you haven’t asked about him in a while. Just came as a surprise I guess.”

“Yeah I know. Like you said it’s been a while, I wanna know if the man’s treating my princess right.” He smiled, leaning over to tossel my hair.

Pouting like a child, I used my pointer finger to swat away the flyaways Justin released from my ponytail and sighed. “Yeah, Hes all good.”

“Awesome. How long you been together now? 2 - 3 years?”

“Around that long.”

“Wow. That’s a pretty long relationship. longer then I expected.” He mumbled the last part.

“Honestly, after everything that’s happened, I’m surprised weve last this long also.” I sighed quietly in hoped that he couldn’t hear me.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

My eyes widened in realisation that he had heard me, even though it really shouldn’t have been that much a shock considering the boy is literally less then a foot away from me.

“N-Nothing. Can you pass the sour patch kids.”

Slowly handing the packet towards me, he continued. “Y/N, if somethings wrong, you can tell me. You should tell me. No one should treat you any less then you are.”

“Its nothing Jay, I’m not worried about it so you shouldn’t be either.” I mumbled, picking at the packet which suddenly didn’t seem as appetizing any more.

Justin sighed. “Y/N, it obviously bothers you If your acting like this so of course I’m gonna be worried. You can tell me.”

My eyes darted up from my lap which the candy sat on over towards Justin truthful eyes, looking for any sign that spoke ‘Just kidding. I don’t wanna hear about you dumb problems.’ But to no avail.

“Lately,” I dragged on, “He’s been pressuring me.”

“Pressuring you into…?” Justin questioned.

“Into…Sex -”

Justin’s eyes widened, shooting forward to sit up straight. “What?! Y/N That’s not okay!”

“No! Justin wait, before you blow up - He isn’t doing anything. I just know he really wants it. Like, every time we get in the mood, and I pull away, he tells me that’s it’s okay and that he’ll wait until I’m ready. But I can just tell by the look in his eye that he’s disappointed or annoyed. I’m just…not ready.” I sighed.

“Not ready? Or not prepared?” Justin suddenly questioned after a few seconds of silence.

Stunned, I glanced up “What?”

“Y/N, I’ve known you long enough to know that you love to be prepared. Like your obsessed with preparing. Are you not ready to have Sex because you don’t wanna lose your virginity yet? Or because your afraid you won’t know what to do.” He questioned, yet the last sentence was more of a statement if anything.

The thought had never occurred to me. Was I really just avoiding Sex because I was inexperienced?

“I-I don’t know.” I stuttered “Maybe I am.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

My eyes raised over to peer up at Justin, shooting me a comforting but firm look. “Sex, It’s a great thing - really. But your never going to be prepared at it if you don’t give it a go. There isn’t a way to be prepared for Sex. It just happens. And when It does, It’s magical.”

“Really?”

“Really. You just gotta go for it.”

“Will you show me?” Before I was even processing the words passing through my lips, they had already escaped and a wave of dread and humility had overcome my body before I could even catch a glimpse of Justin’s reaction.

He was stunned. Completely quiet, with a mouth slightly agape, all before he shook his head, cleared his throat and peered down on me with a mask of emotions. “You want me to show you?” He whispered.

“W-What…Oh my God! I’m sorry….I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid, I’m sorry.” I rambled. “You probably think I’m weird or completely crazy or somethin-”

“No Y/N , It’s alright.” Justin quickly added, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder to calm me. “I don’t think it’s weird, a lot of people do it.”

“Do what?” I questioned.

“Ask there best friends for experience. I’ll do it - if you want.”

“Y-You’ll do it?” I questioned almost in a statement type of way.

“If you want.” He repeated.

My mind stirred with crazy thoughts, all battling each other for the correct words to slip past my lips. But before I could be consumed In thoughts and emotion’s I quickly let the first and most gut ridden thing escape my lips. “I want you to take my virginity.”

“I’ll do it.” Justin softly replied, stroking my cheek. “And I’ll do it just the way you want. Tonight is about you.” Slowly, with each word, he position himself on top of me, slowly crawling up my body before my hand shot out, stopping him before he could connect our lips.

“No Justin. I want to do this. I wanna be in charge.”

Justin was surprised by my confidence, but nonetheless smirked and sat off my body. “Well, lead the way princess.”

Quickly, I placed the many packets of candy on the floor, and shuffled forward to place myself over top Justin, straddling his lap. “Don’t be afraid to ask questions.” He offered.

“Okay, what turns on a guy? How do I start?”

“Well,” Justin began, licking his lips. “For starters, every guy is different so I wont say this will work for sure, but for me, I love it when a girl is confident. Like you.” A blush founds its way onto my face, causing justin to smirk.

“Try starting with a little grinding.” Justin informed. His hands suddenly grasped each hip, gripping the flesh tenderly as he began rolling them around his crotch. “Move like this.”

Moving in sync to his hands, I circled my hips, rubbing down onto his area until I could feel him standing against me.

“Damn baby. Your really good.” He moaned.

Brushing back my hair, I continued to roll against him until I was satisfied with the hard on I had currently given him. At this point he was practically a grunting mess, eyes squeezed shut as he sat back and enjoyed the show I was putting on.

“Now what?” I questioned.

Justin’s eyes slowly squinted open through some conflict and eyed me breatlhlessly, “Well, you’ve turned me on that’s for sure. At this point you have a choice. You can tease him a bit with a blowjob or just get straight into it".

“I know how to do blowjobs do I don’t need any practice at that.”

“Then guess we’re getting straight to the dirty part.” Justin smirked. Before I knew what had even hit me, Justin’s hands shot out towards me and in a matter of seconds, my shirt - along with my bra - was on the floor.

Instantly as instinct, my hands shot over towards my breast, hovering over the exposed and hardened nip in attempt to hide myself. Justin has seen me naked before so I really don’t understand where this sudden shyness came from - but I guess this just seemed a little more intimate then the other times.

Justin shook his head, his hand approaching mine, just slightly brushing over the skin before grabbing a hold of my wrist gently prying it off.

“Don’t hide. Your absolutely beautiful.”

My cheeks flushed red as my arm was removed and placed down at my side. Justin suddenly leant forward, placing his lips down on the skin between my neck and collar bone.

“absolutely beautiful.” He repeated, this time quieter.

My head rolled back in pleasure after feeling the graze of his teeth on my neck. This was becoming way more then practice - and is it bad that I didn’t mind?

“Justin.” I moaned.

This one word sent both Justin and I over the edge. He suddenly jumped up, pinning me underneath him then quickly yanked my denim jeans down until they were pooling around my ankles.

His fingers crawled up my legs, meeting my thigh before stopping right at the waist band of my lace underwear.

Slowly sliding his fingers under the waistband, a shiver ran up my spine at the feeling of his cold fingers making contact with my sensitive nub.

His fingers whirled and spun magics against me, and after a simple few minutes I was a panting mess.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this?” Justin rasped into my ear. “Has anyone ever made you pant? Made you so wet that I could do this with ease.”

And suddenly, a force and feeling of fullness had taken over, running throughout my whole lower stomach as two fingers slid into me with no hesitation. My eyes widened, back arching into Justin’s chest until I had both arms wrapped around his neck.

“Does it feel good?” He questioned, pumping in and out of my tight heat.

My head shook up and down quickly, not being able to Let any words slip from my mouth at the feeling of mass pleasure. The feelings of my juices not only pumping in and out along with Justin’s finger - but dripping down my leg, dissolving into the bed sheets.

Justin’s fingers sped up for a good couple of seconds, soon slowing down before fastening one more time. Repeating this motion multiple times - it was as if a sudden switch had flicked inside my mind, as I spun around and positioned myself on top of Justin, his wet and slick finger falling out of me.

“My turn.” I growled.

Before I even knew it, I had removed my underwear along with the shorts and Calvin’s of Justin, positioning myself on top of his erect dick.

With Justin positioned lying underneath me, and myself hovering over Justin with one of his hand resting on my cheeks, my lip fell in between my teeth in anticipation. It was all finally happening.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Justin questioned, all seriousness present in his eyes.

My focus flickered up to his face, spotting the lust hidden behind his orbs and instantly lowered myself onto him as an answer.

Justin growled sexily, a whimper escaping me at the burning sensation shooting through my Entire pelvis.

“Is it hurting?” Justin asked once I had settled his whole length inside me.

My head shook up and down slightly, my lip caught between my teeth worried that if I opened my mouth a cry of pleasurable pain would escape involuntarily.

“Do you want me stop?”

“No.” I quickly replied. “It hurts. But I feels really good.”

And soon I was moving just to prove that I could handle his length. It started slow and painful before soon, the pain had mostly subsided leaving me with a mass amount of pleasure.

My speed quickened as my high began approaching. Panting and breathless grunts filling the room as i continued.

“Oh fück baby girl.” He growled. “You said it’s your first time? i think you might of lied. Feels so good damn.”

“Shit Justin.”

Sweat layering my body, hair clinging to my face. Thrusting faster And faster to approach my high. And that was quickly approached, especially when Justin reached over and gripped my ass.

My vision went blurry, eyes widening in shock as my first and probably most forceful high to ever be given by a guy over racked my body.

The feeling of Justin slipping out of me, watching as he pumped himself aggressively until white streaks of cum had shot up and landed straight on my stomach was too hot handle. And as my high subsided I was left panting on his arms.

“I’ve never came that fast before.” Justin said. “Was it good?” His eyes met mine, sincerity laced between tired orbs.

“Amazing.” I smiled, cuddling my arm to nestle it on his cheek. “Couldn’t have asked for better.”

Our lips met suddenly, alarming me slightly. Wasn’t this technically cheating?

“Justin?”

“Yeah baby?” He asked, placing wet kisses down my already bruised shoulder.

“I think I have feelings for you.”

His actions halted, eyes meeting mine. Worry flooded every inch of my body as I anticipated his reaction. Should I have just confessed that?

“Me too.”

And before we knew it, we were attacking each other in loving and joyful kisses.

#justin bieber imagine #justin bieber #justin bieber one shot #justin bieber imagines #justin bieber fake text #justin bieber au #justin bieber drabble #jason mccann #Jason McCann imagines

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auburnfamilynews · 6 years

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The Tigers will host five more top targets this weekend in an effort to close out the 2019 cycle strong.

It’s plenty busy on the recruiting trail right now. Auburn coaches are traveling all over the country (more on that later) visiting not only their top targets in the 2019 class but future classes as well. Offers are flying out daily to top level 2020, 2021 and yes even the occasional 2022 prospects. This is typically one of the busiest times of the recruiting cycle as coaching staffs attempt to put the final touches on their signing class and start building momentum for next year.

Official Visitors

Like last weekend, Auburn is expecting five official visitors on campus over the next couple of days. Unlike last weekend, I think there’s a VERY good chance the Tigers add a commitment by Monday. Here’s a look at who is expected on campus later this evening.

4* ATH John Rhys Plumlee | 6’1” | 185 lbs | Hattiesburg, MS | UGA Commit

This was the big surprise of the week. The longtime Dawg commit may have lost his place in that class when UGA pulled off a late flip of former Ohio State QB commit Dwan Mathis during the early signing period. There’s been rumors in recent weeks that Plumlee is being asked to blueshirt (explanation of a blueshirt) which may have put the talented athlete back on the market.

Interestingly, Plumlee prefers to play QB in college and that’s where Auburn is reportedly recruiting him to play. Now could this be a Jason Smith like situation where Auburn allows him a shot at QB before convincing him to slide elsewhere? We will see but it could also mean the staff expects some attrition at the QB position this spring especially when you consider the attempts to evaluate graduate transfer options.

As for Plumlee’s talents, he’s a big time athlete. He could play QB, WR or DB at the next level and is also a terrific baseball player. Plumlee is very quick, able to change directions at a moments notice and has outstanding top end speed that makes him a threat to score anytime he touches the ball. He’s got some Manziel to his game at the QB position in that he’s at his best in the midst of chaos. With a quick trigger and quick feet, he can get himself out of trouble in a hurry and be an all around headache for defenses. Plumlee would definitely give Auburn a dual threat option at QB. Given the signing of Nix though I expect Plumlee’s future at Auburn would be either at slot WR or safety. Ole Miss and Mississippi State are thought to be the teams to watch heading into this weekend. It will be interesting to see if the Tigers can make a strong late push for another elite Mississippi prospect.

3* DT LeDarrius Cox | 6’5” | 300 lbs | Mobile, AL | Tennessee Commit

For months now the thought has been that Cox would eventually land in Auburn’s class. Despite being committed to Tennessee, he’s 100% predicted to the Tigers via 247’s Crystal Ball feature. But as this recruitment has gone on the likelihood of that flip seems to have gone down. Publicly, Cox continues to say all the right things as a committed prospect but he’s set to make two huge visits in the coming weekend. This week its Auburn, next week its Ole Miss. If either of those programs plan on making a big move, now is the time.

Would Auburn take both Cox and 4* DL Charles Moore if they wanted on board? No idea outside of Moore 100% has a spot. VERY interested to see what news comes out on this young man after his visit this weekend.

3* OT Ira Henry | 6’5” | 320 lbs | St. Louis, MO

I’ve been waiting for some new OT names to pop up and yesterday one finally did. Henry has become one of the most sought after prospects on the trail late this cycle with Florida, Florida State and now Auburn hard after his signature. Henry took an official visit to the Gators this past weekend but its the Noles to keep an eye on. They have plenty of playing time to sell and Henry has considered FSU is “dream offer”.

Henry’s senior tape is not available but what you see on his junior film is a guy that can move despite his size and someone with A LOT of power in his punch. At times he can be a little overly reliant on the fact he’s just bigger and stronger than his opponent but I love how light on his feet he is at 320 lbs and his ability to finish. The Tigers need help at the OT spot for 2020 and beyond. Henry would sure help in that regard.

3* LB Christopher Russell | 6’1” | 228 lbs | Dyersburg, TN

Once a Memphis commit, Russell has become one of the top targets for a number of SEC programs. He’s already officially visited Texas A&M, will be on the Plains this weekend and has visits still scheduled for Arkansas and Tennessee later this month. The Hogs were thought to be the leaders in this race at one point but now it’s the Vols who have picked up the intensity after losing JUCO LB commit Lakia Henry.

Russell is a thumper and a clear MLB at the next level. While he doesn’t necessarily face the strongest of competition, he dominates like he should at that level. I have some questions about his speed but there’s no denying that inside the box he’s a force to be reckoned with. Auburn has made him a clear priority in recent weeks and will attempt to make a major move in his recruitment this weekend.

2* ATH Kameron Brown | 6’0” | 222 lbs | Buford, GA

I will be stunned if Brown is not on Auburn’s commit list by Monday morning. The younger brother of super star defensive tackle Derrick Brown, Kameron has spent most of his recruitment trying to convince schools to take a chance on him despite his size and slow 40 time. He finished second in the state of Georgia in tackles in 2018 with 205 and does carry two offers from strong FCS programs UT Chattanooga and Furman. But no FBS schools had come calling just yet.

Until now....

The Tigers offered Brown on January 8th just a few days before his older brother announced that he was returning to school. Interestingly, Auburn is reportedly recruiting him as an athlete. While he might get a shot at linebacker, his future might actually be at the 3-back (H-Back) position. If that’s the case, the future of that position continues to be confusing considering all the different type of athletes the Tigers have signed in recent seasons. That aside, Auburn would be getting a talented young man with a serious chip on his shoulder ready to prove his worth if he were to commit this weekend. Everyone that has spent time with the young man only have really positive things to say about his effort, attitude and leadership.

Curious Case of Dylan Jordan

One target that will not be on campus this weekend is 3* LB Dylan Jordan out of Pittsburg, KS. He recently became a top target for the Tigers and as late as Wednesday evening was expected to visit the Plains this weekend. But yesterday he surprised everyone by announcing he will instead take an official visit to TCU.

So it’s official, this weekend I’ll be taking an OV in Fort Worth pic.twitter.com/Ygp631MMu2

— DJ3️⃣ (@thedylanjordan_) January 17, 2019

Now the Horned Frogs were the originally scheduled destination before Auburn began their push but Jordan told numerous Auburn reporters he was going to the Plains instead. But the TCU staff visited him on Wednesday and apparently convinced him to go back to his original plans. Jordan has stated he wants to commit on January 28th in the past so the Tigers will need to scramble to get him on campus if they want to make a serious move in his recruitment. As of today, TCU and Utah appear to be the top schools to watch. But don’t expect Travis Williams to go down without a fight in this battle.

Interesting Early 2020 Note

Watching offers roll in over the past week for future classes, something interesting caught my eye. Auburn had offered two OTs from the state of Arizona. After some digging I found something interesting.

Interesting note on 2020 recruiting Auburn has already offered 5 players from Arizona in next year's class Auburn offered a total of 4 players in the 2013-2019 classes combined from Arizona Why the change? Dillingham grew up/coached in Arizona

— AUNerd (@AUSportsNerd) January 18, 2019

For those unfortunate folks who have Twitter blocked at their workplace, Auburn has offered 5 players in the 2020 class from the state of Arizona. They offered a total of 4 from 2013-2019 per 247’s “Offers” feature. The link? Auburn’s new offensive coordinator and QB coach Kenny Dillingham.

Auburn’s newest staff addition grew up in the state of Arizona, coached high school football there AND landed his first collegiate gig as a grad assistant for Mike Norvell at Arizona State. Pretty clear he has some connections in the area. In the 2019 class, we’ve seen the clear effect Marcus Woodson’s addition to the staff has had on the trail. All of a sudden Mississippi is a place Auburn can recruit again. Might Dillingham open up some options further west?

Maybe.... Arizona is a bit of a different beast than Mississippi but it’s still something interesting to monitor as we head into a new recruiting cycle. Whether anything materializes in these recruitments is still to be seen and I sure as heck ain’t expecting Auburn to open up a pipeline to the Copper State but I also wouldn’t be shocked if there’s someone a little further west is listed on Auburn’s signee list in 2020.

Tim Horton Impact

Earlier this week, DesertWeagle made the accurate observation in the comment section that we really haven’t talked much about the Tim Horton news on this site. Honestly, I haven’t had much of an opinion on it because I want to see how it plays out. Is he going to take Patrick Suddes old role and become the big picture/right hand man guy for Gus? Or is this Scott Fountain 2.0 and he pops up somewhere else as an on field coach. Neither move would surprise me and until Gus brings in a new RB coach it’s hard to really speculate on the impact moving forward.

However, I will say that Horton doesn’t get as much respect as he should as a recruiter. It’s not as simple as position coach gets all the guys for his position. Often times, it’s the area recruiter that lays the groundwork for top targets. Horton is a very big reason why Auburn has found success in the Tampa and Birmingham areas under Gus Malzahn. His biggest pull was obviously Kerryon Johnson but he played an important role for guys like Austin Troxell and Nate-Craig Myers as well. His biggest impact in the 2019 class was his work on recently tabbed 4* RB DJ Williams who might end up making Horton look REALLY good in a few years.

But I also understand the move. Horton is a solid, not elite recruiter and the RB coach spot is a place where you can find one of those. You see what someone like Dell McGee is doing at Georgia and it’s hard not to feel like the Tigers could get more from that position on the staff. It will be VERY interesting to see who Gus brings in to replace Horton. He will inherit a talented RB room and replace some big shoes when it at least comes to pedigree in producing elite backs in this league.

War Eagle!

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/1/18/18187784/2019-auburn-football-recruiting-another-busy-weekend-ahead-john-rhys-plumlee-kameron-brown

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haeroniel-doliet · 6 years

Text

dwhos here for another raaaaaant (vent)? topic is friendships but lets see where thisll go! waheyy let us insert the read more.

kayokay okay welcome youre gonna regret this; if you havent read through my shitty vents before prepare for ilegibility and thought trains going all over the place and references to things and people youll never know okay great you got off this train? cool gives me more power to crash it see ya.

okay where do we even begin, oh lets go wild and push out a couple topics first. one is; how shit has improved being uni and how everything seems awful brighter now; why it hasnt actually improved and im lonely as ever; how lonely have i always been; but am i really lonely or just think i should have more bc expectations; why im like this and cannot form relationships

lets start with a bit of a history dive eh eh this is what youre here for, me oversharing my life to nobody thatll read it but come on anyway bc one of the reasons i even fucking do these is because; ironically enough; i have no friends to vent this to!! nobody who actually gives a shit!! and even if they did i have a lot more words and confused thoughts to write out here that would just be really mean to inflict on someone else.

ok so, classically as a kid ive almost grown as an only child, obviously have a big bro of 7 yrs older that i never formed more of a bond to than the one we share by sharing a family. aka we barely talk. but like i know he doesnt hate me i guess? ok im not gonna go there. its a weird mess. but. all childhood was mostly me playin by myself bc our family friends had kids his age not mine, and we moved around a bunch too and people came in and out, i guess i made ‘best friends’ pretty easily, but none stuck around longer than a year maybe 2-3. bc thats how life was and as a child i guess it wasnt a bother bc hey, let me be friends with everyone! oh but protective parents also mean mostly on my own. thats cool. im totally mature to be sitting at the adults table (there was no kids table) well early at 6-7. mhmmm

lemme return to finland and start being an early awkward preteen! oh ill be friends with everyone! oh. everyone already has their best friend or best friend group? oh i get left on the playground alone ‘playing the dog at home while they go shopping okay playground games were lame but whaddyou do’ aight cool im okay with this theyre all my friends and im gona draw you all to make friends and nobody like actually bullies me or thinks im weird i guess, anyway school work. oh okay ill make best friends w my neighbour bc were only 7 days apart in age and thats crazy!! i guess we also make friends with lil girls next door bc were 10- 12 and thats what u do. sure. i feel rather criticised by my so called bff bc. we are not on the same wavelength, i feel dumb, im never as funny even if they are hilarious to me, i do gross things w out thinking (imagine having to be told by your friend that you need to buy deodorant when you never thought abt it) and like a bunch of other stuff like not picking up on social cues they dont wanna hang out with me or they dont think looking at funny pictures on the phone is fun... oh okay i mean i guess theyre way better than me but were still friends right? uh yeah.

okay lets take a gap and go to uk, oh wow, SHIT people actually miss me at home?? im making friends with all these kids in my neighbourhood! oh i can be like the movies where they go down the street and hang out and have movienights awesome! who this is the best! fucking halloween w other 13 yr olds?? having hobbies w them? walking to the bus together and home together?? mad. wild. friends. lets ignore the school consisting of pricks and the only time in my school career ive gotten bullied. like classic bullying. pens thrown at me, butt touched, skirt lifted, name called, teasing my ‘naivety’ (do you work at the dildo factory? haahah. are you frigid? would you have sex with me if i bought you a burger?) oh 13-14 yr olds.... ok no its a wild really good and really shit year combined into an okay year. let me just return home and promise to keep in touch and really very barely keep in touch with any of them. thanks instagram for enabling minimal contact and keeping up w each other.

(also back then made my first post cryin to tumblr oh why cant i have tumblr besties like everyone else seems to, please someone be my internet buddy! lucky enough actually talked to Amelia a lot, though...... 14 yr old and abt 20 smth. but we played minecraft together and made two shit youtube videos of our competition participation like. you were a good friend to me. never pushed it too far and i really liked having a mature friend. such a shame you seem to have disappeared off the internet (anywehre i know how to reach you) bc hell, i would not have been opposed to meeting you finally irl at fuckin mcm like i always kinda wanted to bc i saw ppl online do, anyway i hope ur life is good and thanks)

kay so, finally back home weve all moved past the best friend cliques okay okay my class is actually fuckin rad like whaddu you know i dont have to aggressively swear and avoid hugs anymore (self defence from that shitty year) but actually have all these wholesome friends, ofc there were stronger relationships between some people but! i was included. i felt good. it was good. i figured out this being everyones friend thing. im a proper teen now eh. oh but i still had my best friend (briefly moirail) maxx! talking everyday at least for least half an hour if not more, skype calls... watching movies together... sending shit to canada and that one mail i got from you and planning so hard a visit there, even if it felt unrealistic. maybe even spending too much time on you and not making as many connections to my class friends as i could have, u know. stuck on my phone to always be available to you. making you more important. dunno how often id talk thru a crisis in class or however late at night bc, i wanted to be there for you! i loved being needed and being an important piece in moving thru tough times. sure detrimental maybe irl but i was being too much online anyway which i still do but were not there yet. besides, that relationship has had a bit of a roller coaster in the past nearly4 yrs (is it more?) shit that started from an rp and then slowly talking more to being moirails to being the tightest best friends “momma” and all, to your irl friends breaking it up slowly, then a boyfriend really took oyur time and we didnt talk daily lt alone ever get to call bc... shit. okay but i was friends with your boyfriend and though i saw it wouldnt last i was okay with it, like right cool thats teh boyfriend and im the bestfriend. im still involved. yeah man. oh you broke up and now talk more to me! fuck yeah. ill take your side in this regardless. lets get close again even if its not quite the same. i try join your cosplay groups though i cant help feeling me joining killed them, and i followed some you were passionate on! drew all those rad characters of you and your friends to feel adequate and appreciated. then you ad your drama, hated this kid and i wasnt even rly involved. all of a sudden, tight friends, oh i get to be in a chat w you both and a rad other person i had a mild crush on! rad. hell yeah. ive never been in a groupchat like this! this is great i love it. and the vikings came up. and your new friend left bc i was a cis girl and he has problems and could not deal with me not agreeing with his shit argument. (about my countrys history!!) anyway. they make their groupchat, groupchats die. oh. great i ruined it. okay. i no longer know whats in your life.... oh youre best friends now? i kind of have to bug you to even get added to your ‘friends page’ as dumb as it is. i get knocked right aside as hes the bff and the greatest sweetest person ever even though he still seems like a major dick and even your cool older friend agrees with me..... a load of bullshit and weve drawn apart to barely talking once a week and ive still sent you many gifts bc i think its great! until. yeah i wasnt gonna send anymore till you promised to set me up with cosplay pieces for christmas and i freak out to send you smth in return (never got more than measurements from me, and due to shit timing i didnt even get to be there for you opening the presents which fuckin ruined it) but whats this? a year on im fucking coming to america and conviced my parents to also go to canada???? fucking insane. still we dont talk much, the plans werent like i expected but i met you and the cool older friend! amazing! it happened! youre real! i brought you more gifts and i got pictures with you and its, it doesnt feel real still. i keep the fucking bus ticket i took from toronto to guelph to remind me. sure i didnt like get much from you back and thats kay different monetary situations and all and yeah. wild. oh but we still barely talk after? no its ok i get it youre not that good with texting people anymore (even if you kept texting you bff while i was there.... like. maybe he was having a crisis i can understand but... please you barely talk to me anymore and now amazingly im there and. you still talk to him a lot. okay...) ‘ew were not dating were just best friends!” a month later becomes ‘this is my boyfriend and bff i love him more than anything else in the world” ‘oh but hes absolutely a huge mean prick who is super self centered and manipulative,’ and i guess you needed to feel needed like i did and dedicated everything to this shitstorm of a human but. okay... weve drifted apart further, till i demanded thru to your discord (not even active anywhere else) and try damn hard to still talk to you. but its just not genuine. i wanna talk abt important shit to me and worries about myself, but life is difficult on you and i dont feel like you do the same to me so i cant. is it no longer part of our relationship? i guess)

anyway chapter; who the fuck cares; why i feel i can open up to internet friends more than irl ones;;coming up, the other irl exploits after 9th grade.

internet friends are based on talking over text and emotions that come up in the moment and contacting them whenever. with irl people, ive always set a sort of boundary that like. our quota of talking is irl. i might message you online but its strictly related to irl things or smth we discussed irl, u feel? even then i mostly never message anyone (thank the two friends in uni ive talked to more than anyone else) but still. theyre people i will unload burdens to IRL when im sitting with them for hours talking about our fucked up relationships with things and life and thats beautiful. but its not consistent through life? like rn all this shit. i cant just go and vent tto you (i guess i could but who knows if youre mad busy and needa be up early tomorrow or are already sleeping or have other shit on your mind, let alone would be offednede by me being so explicit abt me feelings w friendship u being my friend.) anyway, internet friends have broken that and sometimes i talk abt dumb shit ive seen that remind me of them or i wanna get a reaction from someone about and sometimes this bullshit. but more recently, (my discord has fuckin 3 ppl) i cant. i mean. idk if ever could and now theyre just being better w themselves but i cant? Ana tries being a friend and a good online friend but. i cant take it any deeper than like, look how cool this is! yeah that is cool bc theyre exhausted and dont wanna deal w others bullshit and dont want me to deal with theirs bc theyre online to avoid it. all of which i understand but. its kind of hard to deal with. like. youre currently only passionate about your gays in southpark. two things i dont care bout jack shit (actually hate south park idec) and then your response to me just like contemplating quizzes or the way i felt in the mirror at ballet or like smth that comes up to me when im talking abt normal shit, i get an ok, i dk how to respond or, i dont really care. and wildly i love the honesty, and glad to have lines drawn for me when i dont see them, but it always feels like a smack in the face regardless. having stepped out of line and not having realised and stopped before they had to tell me to stop. like it was w that old neighbour bff. i could never tell when she wanted me to leave her alone or smth bc i was having fun! but shed be tired of it and it just. always hurt realising i was too wrapped up in emotion and myself to realise i was annoying or overstepping boundaries and im still terribly self concious about it bc i feel terrible being a bad person like that! i wanna be the perfect friend.ugh.

the other people on my discord are maxx and the cool older canadian dan, who still is rly cool and admirable. and i feel bad. bc when i first got the dumb thing i talked to him like adults! yea! talked abt maxx and a bit of college and a bit of life and like. it was good! he said good night friend <3 which is like!!! the most wild and exciting thing it fuckin exhilirates me to be called friend in converstion like please fuck validate me being your friend!!!! (god isnt that sad and basically gonna sum up this whole thing) anyway recently im sure things have been sad or busy or hes just that kinda person but my last 4? attempts for convo have gotten no response, even when hes online (supposedly when its ok to message him) and i no longer want to say anything unless its smth im sure id get a response to. bc then im just buggering and annoying the poor guy and become annoying. (even if hes said he doesnt mind and thinks im a great person. i hope) and maxx u know. i can message, and i do, and now more than in a rly long time i- oh my god i get responses!! still they cut short. theres no, hey sorry i dont care or, hey i gotta go, or hey i dont wanna talk abt this, just. no more responses. and i guess my conversational skills are rusty and i havent written anything thatd get an easy response from them! (but stilll, should talking to friends rly require you to formulate conversation starters and talk in a way that doesnt provoke too much but is just easy enough for them to respond briefly and with no investment to make talking to me easy as possible? idk even iguess? maybe im shit at having friends and thats why i have none. shush.)

okay lets head back to irl. high school was shitty weird thing, around 10 ppl in class and i only made friends w 3? got bullied for a good couple days on a trip by 1 and another class person. terrible trying to make friends and keep friendly with everyone in a tiny school but i managed and alls good, and even still, just made friends with the most compatible people, not sure if id have been friends with otherwise. one a nervous wreck of a boy that the teacher tried to like ‘ship us together with’ but while he had a girlfriend and we managed to keep conversation joking and chill (as it should be and i made good sure of it) it was fine, he still like i a very girlfriend oriented person and i guess doesnt chat much online w other girls? im cool with it, a couple snap updates on life here an there its whatever. youre an anxious person anyway and we dont always like. work as friends. another was from japan, who id decieded to make a friend if only to have a friend in japan to visit and to teach me a bit (and teach us to make food! okay im so glad we were friends) and at school it was great enough. helped her get confident in speaking english and correcting work and sitting together at lunch and hanging out outside of school on the rare occasion schedules lined up was fab! i actually am gonna miss her. even if we werent close. and i feel bad bc idk if she wants to keep in contact, and i really suppose i should just aim to write her like a text once a month or so to keep in touch thatd be good, cover that. keep up english and so on. maybe (ps old friends from childhood pop up every now and then on social media and have the rare chat which is quite nice actually! even if im not active or keep them updated, some realtionships i like to leave lukewarm and not hateful but smth thats easy to catch up with if opportunity comes up. i actually can do that quite a lot, make good conversation and feel friendly and make acquaintances. i just. have no idea how to push them to proper active friendships (it just happens sometimes by accident) and no absolute clue how to make htat into a very close “bff we share everything i can message you whenever” kinda relationship classic media like facebook portrays idk. do i need it? i guess not but i kinda wanna know what thats like bc relationships are not a thing for me. lets make that its own paragraph) oh but also on old school friends my frustration of a few days, just. a friend that is the easiest to keep in touch with bc they intitiate and have time and want to do things, but god its annoying and i dont like them. our humours dont align and i feel judged and criticised and like. idk. dont feel great w them. theres moments of like genuine “im glad i met you bc i would have switched schools otherwise” from her and a jar of reminders why were friends and some good memories, but its just. she drains me. and i dont wanna talk deep w her. and though to some other friend it seems like we are heckin dating in secret bc of how comfortable we are and how much we end up communicating to organise things, uhm were not. i wouldnt date her ever im sorry. struggling to stay friends and have it fade to the background amicably before i do or say smth wrong and fuck it up. anyway its just bugging me and i hate it bc i feel bad for her and bad for myself and its just a mess that i dont wanna deal with that mucheven if i talked my parents ear off about it.

ok intermission to parents. in a way no. no fuck they are not my friends. my mom will never be my best friend and i dont think they want that either,being classic parents and allbut i guess, sometimes when i get past the ugh youll never understand youre so god damn annoying!! teenage phase my brain still has, i do talk to them about a lot of things that upset me, bc unlike friends, they cant decide not to care about me or stop talking to me u know. i have vented about shit practices that have really tested my self worth and lack of emotions (remind sobbing like a bitch with a mud covered ass walking home from a terrible skating practice and falling in the rain) and mom comforting thru it. mind telling them all the pent up feelings abt flatmates and analysing them to her like”well shes rly nice and we talk abt this and this but i cant help but feel she doesnt really wanna talk to me and also they didnt wanna hang out and they keep leaving their dishes and told me to clean mine but they did this and that and....” i never talk about internet friends or a lot abt other things bc. not relevant and i dont think id hear what i wanna hear. but im kinda glad i still can do that and vent to them abt like real life things and things that upset me even if its not exhaustive and i cant do everything and they dont fill the gap of this “true best friend” i have emulated. but thats a point of why im not rly lonely. bc i have outlets to a lot of these needs that im not missing it all . just dont have it all in one person or even a small group of ppl.

wht next. oh remind me to come back to group things online. anyway lets give uni a try. so weve talked abt my two impressive friends irl who take the same course as me and kind of have dragged me thru and have gone to hobbies w me and hung out w me for hours and actually come to visist me in london an been cool? yeah theyre pretty rad people and very smart and im glad theyre in my life. even if w al the ranting im not comfortable messaging them all hours of the night to talk abt all my insecuritites and thoughts and problems u know. and one is dating and both have flatmate drama and other groups of friends and tho theyre friends between each other we dont like. make the ultimate trio which is why were not moving in together ( also reminder to being called the 3 musketeers w my high school two gals bc we were seein kinda doing everything together (in school) by me sticking us all together with my “i need to feel validated with friends” glue. that was quite nice.)

but like in uni, ive said it to a lot of people. its amazing. ive never been happier knowing this many people. i dont make drama, i almost never get included in any drama so all i get are friends!!! and having flatmates, and flatmates friends, and class mates, and people ive just met , and hobby friends i just knew so many people thatd be friendly to me and even smile at me in passing it feels great man. having multiple group hobbies and socials to go to (even if i dont drink much and its not like were partying) it feels good man. i want more of this next term now that i have no”i dont know anyone there” excuses. god i love it. i love waving to people i know, i love getting a ride from someone to go hang out t another friends place and people knowing me by name and caring about my presence! (though not too much, like nobody would miss me i guess, but i still have more of a place to carve and i cant say for sure that they did not notice me missing) anyway archery has been terrbily wholesome and one of the best things ive invested time into and im sad some of the happy faces there are leaving this summer....... and sure none of these friends have gone even to proper hugging levels, let alone talking together without a group of people or god, messaging privately if not strictly club stuff (ok theres like, a couple, one that im delighted about and cant wait to hang w in finland even tho theyre cooler than me) but u know, same problem w. hm were friends within this hobby group. were not like. actually friends outside of this and wouldnt hang outside of it. uh. yeah. dont rly have that many that kinda friends..... just 2 in fact. ill work on that....

side note, i try joining in online groups like mxrp discords, and an odd skype chat for homestuck cosplayers. but its kinda the worst. i dont mind observing and reading in and commenting in my head and rarely actually participating tho nobody knows who i am, but like. nobody knows who i am or cares if im there at all. and its kind of a not great feeling. im not needed or wanted here. they just dont mind me being there u know. idk wht to do with those feelings. i dont really wanna make myself obnoxiously present and make people remember and want to talk to me and actually become immersed in it, bc these dont seem like that great people idk. i guess im too ‘mature’ to just go omg i love you an all that.

anyway lets dive into hmmmmmm why am i still lonely? funny question eh. its because i have no consistent close relationships with anyone. have i ever? maxx was closest but i guess nawh here we are. i can get close to u in a night of just talking for hours but. if it doesnt carry through consistently does it count? i have a couple people to message when im delighted abt smth (heck even post to snapchat to get those lukewarm friendships to be reminded of me) and i have my parents to be sad to about a certain category of things that i share w them (like hobby frustrations and friends theyve met frustrations, and some body upset) i have this hunk of friends in uni i can hang out and chill with and will continue making better friends with gladly. im not an isolated herrmit (all the time) nor do i think im socially despicable. im just. normal. online ive felt more and more as much as i spend my entire day online w all these things im not an internet person??im not always posting on social media, im not always talking to 10 ppl at once, im not writing or creating media, im not consuming other than youtube actually, (like i dont watch shows u knw) , all i do is rp when i muster the strength and hang out lukewarm on tumblr posting rants and reblogging pretty and fun things, not getting involved much. not a fan of anything, not obsessed w anything, not overtly gay ( i dont even know what i am but girls are pretty and sex and relationships get gross as soon as you add me into the picture) and not an exciting personality. hell. i currently fuckin like ballet and archery and like. thats about it. (also hahahhahh catch me going down the abc list of hobbies, aikido, archery, badminton (w archery ppl) ballet. what next. cricket? crochet... cooking? dance (ballet) fencing gaming (hah no), hockey? ice skating ( im already doing it) like look at me anyway shh) im not trans and i dont feel gay enough to fit in (what a rant that is, but im just ignoring it for now) im so boring. too reational, too uninvolved, too unopinionated/have an opinion but prefer to keep quiet and at peace. i guess this is what normal people are like off the internet. and ill just deal with it. but how normal people fill the gap are these ridiculously idealistic bff groups that i clearly dunno how to achieve, and uh. relationships.

so i can foresee a future where an imaginative foggy figure will care about me so much and want to hear all these rants and talk about all my wild thoughts with me and love me and remind me of it and be happy around me and think im funny and make me feel good and loved and better than i am and be someone i love being aorund constantly and wont have to feel self concious with or like i need to be putting on the front that is not gross and is a lovely sociable person. like i doubt they even exist. the kind im specifically thinking off thatll make life a sunset gold and unbelievably happy and good. ill save that sunset gold feeling to my dream future, one in which im happy with my body and personality and have that shadowy figure that makes me all whole and better than im alone and all these pets and animals that i love and love me and plants and color and art and whimsical decorations and yknow. i see it in my head. it feels real good. i kinda wanna see if itll actually happen. it just. it feels so fuzzy and warm and i would love for that actually be real and look back on this and be like. i have it. everythings complete. we can dream. i might get it when im grey and old and all alone but found smth that makes it that good. anyway im not discounting that there might be ‘the one’ in that future, the perfect one. but. i still doubt in the present when or if ill ever meet them let alone if i do htat anything would happen. ive never ever dated anyone or even come close to it. i dont understand how people just, end up in relationships or almost always have one, and i guess im not trying to bc idk if i want it- idk if im ready for it, but its a weird one ill tell u. i feel with this perfect imaginary figures all these bad feelings would go away and i could talk about them and someone help me fix them and become more and better than my thoughts. but i dont wanna look for one. i dont wanna experiment in relationships so that im ready and wont fuck it up when the one comes bc, its horrendous and stressful and im gross! im not dating material. nah. and obviously nobodys tried to date me so were all on the same page. honestly once i sort out the other things wrong w me, i might just get to therapy for this shit. like. why are relationships such a shit concept to me and like why and how do i deal with it without just saying fuck it relationshipss are not for me. i have no doubt ill keep making connections and friends throughout my life in all different random places, but im actually... kinda afraid none will stick around. if i cant form consistent strong friendships theyre al gonna fade away and ill have nobody when i need someone. having that one solid person would really help bc theyre there thick and thin i guess aparently. i have myself, but considering what a mess i am idk if thats enough at all. i think i should change myself an awful lot though before a relationship could happen. like. nobody wants a barely showering fat chubby in an awkwardway terrible skinned messy sad blabbery person. like. just a gross one. i gotta become so much better before i can even consider letting someone past to get this close i guess. i guess. these feelings are really not settling here and i feel off the rocker. like unsettled and uneasy. also i need to pee which is rly not helping feel less gross. that and my hair is nasty greasy bc rather than take a shower at a reasonable time i did.... nothing. and then i started writing this an hour, two hours ago? more? idk.

kay then, we have reflected briefly while i was away on how fat and ugly i am and how hopeless considering ive been trying to finish a knitting project for my baby cousin and start drawing again or even just playing my old pokemon game (yknow summer vacay) things in the past few days. nawh. havent. even more productively i should have done actual exercise to build my stamina and make faster improvements in ballet and actually try and tackle the fat and ugly feeling in 8 weeks (but that like... requires diet control... which is hard?) and like o u know. finishing my fucking university course ive lied to everyone abt? ok lets be real i have passed the year and can move into the next w the credits i have and passed all the mandatory classes. but. i want/ need to pass this class. and i already forked out 30 pounds hopefully correctly to apply for a resubmission (more like first submission) of all these projects and its hard. considering in my hirearchy of shit that needs to be done (easiest most necessary first) i havent even reached the first ladder of like washing my nasty hair. the ladder includes all the above projects and at the end of it is like completing that course (needs to be done by the end of the month u kno bitchh. u dont know how long its gonna take you cannot leave it to the last few days. and this other bulshit course idk if ill even get credit for completing late and dont know if i care but i guess i gotta do it anyway

basically i just wanna d ie. thatd be nice. id not have to feel fat and stupid and worthless and discomfrot in my own skin and just. nasty and numb but bad all over. okay im really not feeling great bout now. but thanks to all the above weve realised i have nobody to talk to whod talk me out of these feelings and comfort me (let alone if im capable as a person to accept that considering theyd have to be very convicing to get past me going “mhmmm but youre wrong” )

anyway this has been terribland i havent achieved anything but feelin kinda bad. we have covered that ive never had proper friendships and that might be detrimental to me ever forming the kind of close companionship i seem to be missing, however at least i can make easy friends briefly and as such know im not a terrible person thru and thru that people hate. i just dont know how to cross that nd not be horribly annoying or how to find those kind of people bc shit and bullshit. do i need it? no i guess ill be fine. would it make my life better and more worth it? probably. id hope so. i mean it seems pretty important in human existence for there to be so damn many songs and movies and aboslutely everything focused around it.

anyway. i know nobodys gonna finish reading this and i kinda hope i dont read back on this either. my cringey diary moments hidden under a readmore on tumblr. whats sadder.... tsk who wants to figure out how many words this all is?

mhmmmm mmm 7 pages on word and 6059 words. damn gurl. no FUCKIN WONDer nobody wants to talk to me about my thoughts and feelings when they just erupt. bc even by erupt i mean a mild discomfort that im trying to pin down to a cause and an actual feeling so and so unsuccessfully.

#tf when youre your own therapist #hah yeah thanks tumblr for being my digital diary #cringey enough and private enough it may as well never be read by anyone #but still if some crazy dumbass read it all theyd know me all too god damn well #but its not like...anyone ive mentioned will ever fucking read it. even consider to #aka #if you stumble past this #i guess you can assume its not abt you #ugh #this didnt even help that much #time to try option c #ignore everything and numb it with some rad youtbe videos for another 4 hrs and crash asleep at 5 am and everything continues to be bad #but like bad tomorrow #sorry this was a vent post #a very long one over 6000 words #i am SO sorry if youre on mobile and the readmore didnt work

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

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when i said it i thought it was true [2] {Ben Hardy}

A/N: 2821 words. continuation of the Fake Dating AU; enjoy

[part 1]

He calls you darling with his head between your thighs, and a camera over your shoulder, and you’re scripted to card a hand through his hair - you can barely look at that wig and keep a straight face - and just as you do, the door in the centre of the frame bursts open. The camera refocuses, and it’s Gwil in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, announcing that the band had been played on the radio. After a beat, he stops, sees you scrambling to push Ben away and cover yourself, but he’s more excited at the news as he gets to his feet.

It’s a short scene, and once cut is called on the first take, and the crew take a moment to look over the footage. Like clockwork, people start moving around you, adjusting lighting, shouting technical jargon that you’ve learned to tune out over the years, and Ben sits on the edge of the bed as Gwil joins the pair of you, chatting with Ben about the football.

You’ve got a robe somewhere but you don’t bother with it, just wait as the scene is reset around you, and people come in and fluff the pillows behind you, and the camera angles itself a little lower as the sheet gets pulled off of you. You’re very glad that most of the crew are professionals, because they’ve got you in a pair of high-cut, surprisingly flattering cotton panties, and a tight, brown crop-top with a fringe that stops just above your stomach.

Gwil leaves and Ben leans back, his head pillowed on your thigh, and you gently kick him with your free leg, though it only serves to make him laugh. And then the cameras are rolling and Ben shifts so he’s laying on his stomach, his cheek resting against your thigh as he looks up at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes.

There’s a moment, seeing the way he looks up at you, part of you forgets it’s acting on top of acting, and you feel like you’re thrown back in time, leaning against his headboard as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, the room dark around you apart from the warm glow of the light beside his bed and-

The director calls action and you’re ripped from the memory. If it hurts, just a little, to see him smile at you again like that and know it means nothing, you try not to dwell on it. You smile back.

“Do you have to get up? We’ve got the day off.” Ben wraps an arm around you pressing his forehead to your back, his voice still rough with sleep.

“You have the day off.” You correct with a small smile, trying to sit up. He just tightens his grip, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Ben.” The way you say his name is a gentle warning, and you can feel him smirk, his lips against your back as he gives a hum of acknowledgement. “They want me on set in an hour and a half.”

“Come on, that’s heaps of time.” And he’s tugging at your hip. You take that as your cue to turn, fondly exasperated when you finally look at him. “So this one is...?” He prompts, small smile on his lips as he sees the way you’re playful annoyance turn endeared.

It’s something else to wake up next to him, his hair a curly mess, expression unguarded and affectionate in the morning light. The curtains aren’t open, but there’s a sliver of light peaking through a gap between them, and the light shines in, hitting the arm he’s got draped across you. The idea of Ben Hardy trying to keep you in bed, smiling at you like that, would have been laughable just a few months ago, yet here you were.

“Midsomer Murders, they’ve got me playing a baker’s daughter who’s killed ‘cos she looks like some bloke’s ex.” You tell him quietly. There’s a moment of silence that follows, and you’re not even sure he heard you, a look in his eyes like the world outside could be burning and he wouldn’t even care if you’re by his side.

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley.” He mused, arm still around you, and you laugh at that. The sound makes his smile brighter.

“What the baker, being murdered, or looking like an ex?” You asked lightly, though you realise too late that it could be construed as some sort of twisted relationship test, thought he just chuckled, not reading anything into it.

“Finding yourself playing someone tragic.” He explained. He’s still smiling, but your own expression falls as you consider the weeks you had ahead of you.

The producers of Eastenders had sat you down to explain that your character was going to overdose at the end of the Season, and be rushed to hospital. The survival of her was entirely dependant on the fan’s reaction to the character and the event, but even if she recovered, her romantic arc with Ben’s character would end. The fans wanted him back with Lauren, and the production team agreed.

“Do you think it’s weird that my characters keep getting killed off?” You asked, and he rests a hand on your cheek, thumb gently brushing against your cheekbone.

“‘course not, babe. Two is a coincidence, maybe start worrying about being typecast if it happens again.” He’s so gentle when he says it that you can’t help but smile back, leaning in to press your lips to his before getting up to start getting ready, and Ben grumbles without you by his side, but he’s smiling as he watches you flit about the room.

“You and Ben were together last time we worked together, right?” You and Gwil are the first two on set for the first day of shooting the Madison Square Garden after party. You’d just wanted to get their early knowing you’d have to spend a good deal of time in hair with the wig they had for you for the scene.

“That was a while ago; surprised you even remember that.” You laughed, eyes closed where a makeup artist was busy applying eyeshadow.

“Yeah, I forgot about it until the Interruption Scene,” he says, and you snicker, humming with agreement. The silence that stretches between you is a pleasant one. You’d been on quite a few episodes of Midsomer Murder with Gwil, enjoyed his company well enough, not that the two of you had really spoken back then, he’d been a lead and you had different bit-parts every time, and you hadn’t really kept in touch, but he was shaping up to be a good friend on set here.

“How are you two going now?” He asked, idly, watching your reflection as your lips were painted a bright red.

“Good.” You answer automatically, pausing to blot your lips before elaborating. “It’s- uh, honestly it’s weird being back together.” You cast an uncertain gaze to the makeup woman who was clearly trying to hide her surprise.

“Good-weird?” Gwil asks, raising an eyebrow, and you hesitate. When your words come out next, they spill, too fast as if making up for the silence in which you had to actually think about the answer.

“Yeah, of course, it would be weird if it wasn’t, you know, good-weird.” After a beat, you took a deep breath, forcing your shoulders to relax. “All relationships are weird at first.” And you swallow, standing from your seat and heading into get your wig. Ben’s yawning as he steps past you to get to the makeup trailer, and you catch his wrist as he passes.

“Hey.” Voice soft, you smile at him, trying to push down your sudden uncertainty. He looks a little confused, but his answering ‘hey’ is kind and fond. He catches sight of a makeup assistant waiting for him, and he presses a quick kiss to your temple before making his way in.

It’s easy to pretend to love him.

Almost as easy as it was to actually love him.

"So are you gonna leave him once you leave Eastenders?” Maisie was rather blunt. She was one of the only people you talked to after having your production with her had wrapped, and that’s more so because she was a freelance production assistant for indie movies, and she’d let you know about upcoming projects.

“What the hell, May, no.” You spluttered, and she rose her eyebrows leaning back and taking a long sip of her coffee. She’s judging you. She’s always judging you. It’s part of her charm, you learn not to be insulted.

“Oh, I thought it was just like, a publicity thing.” She admitted, and your brow creases in confusion.

“That’s fucked, that’s so disingenuous.”

The two of you fit together so easily, sitting on a gilded love-seat in the middle of Freddie’s living room set. Ben’s got an arm around you and a prop glass of alcohol free champagne, and there’s extras all around you buzzing with energy. Every so often you’ll catch one of them watching you and Ben as if you’re some sort of spectacle, and you have that unique sinking sensation that comes with being a public figure; of everyone knowing your business whether you told them or not.

“I think they know.” You murmur in between takes, and he makes a hum of acknowledgement, before turning to you, expression neutral, if not a little confused. “I know, that’s the point.” You know what he’s trying to say without him having to say it, reading him even after a few years apart.

“You wanna get dinner after this?” He asks quietly, and your expression turns reflexively confused.

“It’s already midnight, it’s not like anyone will expect us to be out, not that anything’s open.” You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he looked out at the crowd.

“We can go to Seven-Eleven for all I care, I just need to get food after this.” He muttered, and you suppressed a smile.

“So we’re putting it on for the cashier?” You asked, and he turned to face you, chin bumping into your forehead when you refused to move your head.

“Babe,” he says pointedly, and you have to laugh, because if you don’t you think your chest might ache a little, “I just want company, it’s not that complicated.”

Except it is that complicated. Being around him like this has reminded you how good it felt to be with him. It’s been almost three months, and you’ve forced yourself into the habit of reminding both of you that it was fake, that it was for attention, and even if you were really friends again, there was nothing real about the romance. It was getting on his nerves, now that you were closed to the end of filming.

“I know that this isn’t real.” His grip on the steering wheel is white knuckled as he drives to McDonalds. “I get it, okay, I know what’s happening, you can stop reminding me.”

“It’s not all for you, Ben.” Voice soft, you lean back in your seat. He’s parked, but neither of you feel the need to leave the car.

“What? You’re reminding yourself?” He asked, and you made a noise of affirmation, and he’s quiet for a long time.

“Half the time, if I don’t remind myself, I just forget.” You refuse to be embarrassed or ashamed by that. “We didn’t actually break up that long ago,” you reminded him; it had only been about two years, “so I’m sorry if it’s weird for me.”

“It’s weird for me too, okay?”

Your final scene of the Season has you laying in a hospital bed. There’s no words, just the steady beat of a heart monitor that’s going to be added in post production, and a shot of Ben’s face before he leaves, slamming the door to lean against it with his face in his hands.

You fall asleep about five minutes into filming, and it’s only when Ben comes and lays down beside you on the hospital bed that you wake. Apparently they’d already filmed three takes. His eyes are red-rimmed, but he’s smiling.

“Don’t cry for me.” You tell him, gently teasing, laying your head on his chest and yawning loudly. He wraps an arm around you.

“Tell that to the writers.” He snorted, his hand rubbing gently up and down your arm. “I don’t know how you can sleep through all this.” He mused, and you give him a deadpan look.

“Well someone didn’t let me get a lot of sleep last night.” Though your tone is accusatory, your smile is playful, and Ben refuses to meet your gaze, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“I’m not going to apologise for that.” He says, tone lofty, though his voice drops to a murmur. With a giggle, you press a kiss to his jaw, murmuring that he shouldn’t need to apologise anyway.

When he looks at you, looks past the makeup they’ve put on you to make you look sick and weary to the way you’re grinning at him, and he kisses you gently, his finger beneath your chin, lifting your lips to meet his.

Ben’s called away a few moments later, and you see the woman playing Lauren smirking at him from the door frame. Ben rolls his eyes at her as he climbs from the bed, telling you over his shoulder that he’s sorry he disturbed your nap, and you laugh at that, shuffling into a comfortable position as one of the crew members came over and straightened the hospital blanket around you.

After the two of you talked in the McDonalds car park, things have become easier. There’s no more reminders, not in the traditional sense; when it’s just the two of you, he calls you dude, and you call him buddy, and neither can take the other one seriously. He almost snorted beer from his nose when the two of you grabbed dinner at a pub and you’d told him;

“You look cute tonight, buddy.”

Low effort, low pressure, you let yourselves fall into the role of best friends who occasionally kissed when in public. It’s not even weird when you remember little details about one another from when you were together, it was more fond than anything else.

“Ben, settle an argument for us,” they’re on the set of Freddie’s first apartment, and you weren’t actually in the scene, but you’d been bored out of your mind at the hotel you were staying at and came along to watch the recording. Ben was sitting beside Lucy on his phone on the brown leather sofa in the middle of the set, while Rami and Joe were laying side by side on the mattress by the piano, and you were behind the camera with Gwil, trying to touch his wig, and getting your hand slapped away every time, as if it were a game.

“Is this the most impractical bed,” Joe parroted the script, and Lucy’s delivery, to which the actress rolled her eyes with a goodnatured smile, “or just a genius designing his room to best suit his own creative feng shui?”

“Why would you ask him?” You call over as Ben considers thoughtfully for a moment. “He designs his living room about how to best minimise glare on the TV.” You snicker, and Ben looks like he’s about to protest, but then his expression changes and he’s nodding in agreement, before adding.

“The bed’s impractical though, I keep kicking my shin against it.” He adds, and when the boys are giving him a confused look, surprised that he agreed so quickly with your words, he shrugs. “We lived together, she knows what my living room looks like.” He says, as if it’s explanation enough, and honestly, it is.

“Do you ever think about getting married?” The two of you are curled up on his sofa one evening, binge watching something forgettable on Netflix, and your whole body freezes. “Christ, calm down, I’m not asking you, I’m just curious.” There’s a laugh in his words, and you let yourself relax.

“Maybe one day, when I’m a bit older.” You muse, sighing softly and leaning further into him. “When I stop playing crack whores and murder victims.”

“But you play them so well.” He says, with all the fake-enthusiasm he can muster, and you shove him in the ribs.

“Oi, I’ve got more range than that.” You huff, before settling back down. “What about you?” You ask, and he lets out a low, long hum.

“Haven’t really thought about it much.” He admits, and you make a noise that’s halfway between amused and confused.

“What’s got you thinking about it now?” When you ask, he tightens his grip on you, just a little, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Not really sure.”

the rat pack: @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine

(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap imagine #borhap cast imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #queen imagines #eastenders #eastenders imagines #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #the angry lizard writes

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

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Real Homemakers Of New Jersey Recap: Returning HGTV A Run For Their Money

Another weekend get, another occurrence of. Maybe thats why I dislike on this show so much It represents my ass having to wake up and go to work. Or maybe its because no ones hollered prostitution whore or been indicted of any misdemeanours this season. They really did give the bar a bit high-pitched. But whatever. This is what weve went. At least it got more exciting last week. Preserve it up, Jerseyans. And yes, thats what theyre called. I Googled it.

We kick shit off at Dolores house and continues to be revamping. I feel like this is going to be a season-long happening. D goes pissed because Frank decided to merely resurface the cabinets instead of gutting the whole kitchen. Why tf does your ex husband get a say in this? This is your fucking house. Your relationship, I guess.

D and Siggy head to Jacquelines house and Im gambling my resources of the fund theyre gonna talk about the semi-fight that went down between her and Tre last chapter. Disturbance of the fucking centuryIm right. What else is new?

Jacqueline rehashes the whole oppose in a singer thats almost as exasperating as Teresas, which is mind-blowing in and of itself. Bravo starts doing that act where they proceed from backward and forward between the families and between this and the shrieking expression and my glass of Whispering Angel, I find a migraine coming on. Thanks, Andy Cohen. Melissa is telling her caveman spouse that Jacqueline was out of path for trying to pit him against his own sister, and I agree. So theyre gonna get lunch to discuss.

Over at Teresas, shes still doing yoga. We fucking get wise already. Youre fit and Zen post-lockup. Side memorandum: Are those cheetah print sheets on their ruler couch? Jesus fucking Christ. I say this every episode but the Jersey-ness is reaching me nauseated. Back to the chapter Its a big day at the Giudice house. Tre gets to take her ankle bracelet off. Mazel tov! I couldnt relate to these beings less if I tried.

Its time for Jacqueline and Melissas lunch. Obstruct the drama coming. They dive right into it. I entail damn. Jacqueline is like screaming in this restaurant rn.

Jacqueline: I dont got to go to you to talk to your partner. Ima go straight to the source. Ive done so much for your family!

Have you? I dont really recollect, tbh. But thats not resounding any bells. Melissas exactly kinda like what-the fuck-ever. And thats all. Seemed real abrupt if you ask me, but this ros might be getting to my head.

I can tell were going to Siggys house because theres some Jewish marry music playing after a commercial shatter and Sigs is the only non-Italian Jew on this display. Subtle, Bravo. Sigs house is immaculate. Not even a hint of leopard. Can we just movie all of the incidents here instead of the rest of these gaudy-ass rooms? Her mothers been demonstrated and start talking about their heritage and Siggys bratty children. Ugh I forgot about them. The hires intimate Jewish traditions to deliver their own families back together. Its worth a shot I suppose.

At Jacquelines, Ashlee and her boyfriend are over for dinner. They talk about living together and the convo returns to marriage and pregnancy so naturally BF looks like hes about to fucking shaft. Jacqueline attracts him aside like its an episode of The Bachelor. He wants to take Jacqueline to help him pick out an engagement resound, which is sweet. Im glad Ashlee went her shit together. It was touch and go there for a bit while. You did it!

Melissa and Joe Gorga head to Tres for dinner. Teresa says she wants an edamamelike, one singular edamame? Returns out, she intends an enema. LOL. Words are hard. Theyre there for about two fucking seconds before we start talking back the Teresa and Jacqueline argument. Goddamn, yall are some petty bitches. Move on. It wasnt even a big deal. There are much bigger things to worry about. Such as going to prison and shit.

Meanwhile, Dolores is still renovating her home. Since when did this become HGTV? Frank shows up, and I feel like D hangs out with her ex a lot more than whats ordinary. I get it. They have minors. But like, does he have a fucking dwelling? Hes literally always there. But fine. Dolores wants to knock cold a wall, which, after hours of watching this afternoon, I fully support. It certainly opens up the room. Frank tones a bitch fit for a sec because thats gonna get expensive, but then caves. That a path, D.

Siggy took her parents advice and emcees Kiddish at her house in is making an effort to constitute her kids less asshole-y. Ive got high hopes, but low-toned expectations.

Zen Tre ends shes also Dr. Tre and hosts a care conference where everyone in the fam writes down their love. This ought to be good. I cant imagine Joe is too good with texts, but I dont wanna stereotype. It backfires when Milania puts her parents on blast.

Milania : I dont like it when my dad announces me fat, specially since hes fat af too. Mom doesnt get me. She never listens to me because shes ever on her phone.

Damn. Parents of the fucking time over here. Youd conclude after being away from your girls for a year, youd wanna coldnes with them. But like, I bet you missed Twitter very, so I get it. Gia pretty much says the same shit, except “shes been” tells her mama she overreacts, to which, Teresa shockingly overreacts.

Were back at Siggys and, despite Kiddish, her girls are still little shits. Cast them down to Georgia, Sigs. An hour with my grandparents and theyll be fucking angels.

Its Milanias bday so in true Jersey fashion, they get a pink Hummer limo. They go to this residence announced iFly where gust gusts acquire you pilot or something. Idk. I dont enjoy any kind of physical pleasure besides wine tastings, so it consider this to be my worst fucking nightmare, but the girls look like theyre having fun. Teresas phone is nowhere in sight, for the record.

Jacqueline and BF travel echoing store and have a really emotional discussion. Couldnt yall have done this in the car on the way over instead of in the actual accumulate? No? Okay. We get a montage to seeing how cruel Ashlee was as a teen. Ahhh, the very best ole days.

Were back at iFly, and Milania is talking about her 11 th bday and Joe starts to rip up because he wont be there. This actually realizes me so sad. I mean, hes supposed to be in prison for like four years. Thats a long fucking time when you have young children. Damn it. Im hollering again. Is it precisely me or is this franchise way sadder than the other Housewives?

But why stop there? Makes check in on Dolores croaking puppy while were at it. Bethenny must be free to get in with the Jersey ladies so I can chuckle a little. We gotta lighten this shit up. Lastly the sadness discontinues because Sigs and Jacqueline come over to do some demo. Its probs a good way for them to get out some of that Jersey anger. D gets a entitle from Maz, whos still pissed because she is still not going to work at their piece of shit gym. I dont think she gets how positions extend, but what do I know?

Melissa and Tre are having some tea and is about to change Sigs, D, and Melissa have been scheduling a girls weekend. Fuck. Yes. Girls weekends= wine-coloured and arguings. Teresas on the fence but not really because shes contractually obliged to go to this shit so she agrees. Whats the over/ under on how many times well ensure Teresa doing downward bird-dog and other fitness shit this trip-up?

The next day, Teresa goes her book in the mail. She speaks the dedication she wrote to her daughters while lying on her leopard membranes. We get it, Tre. You love your daughters. Just not as much as your phone.

Her and Joe then start talking about the disagreement with Jacqueline again, and would you look at that? My bottle of wine-coloured is drain right as the escapade objective. Until next week

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An Oral Biography Of The 1998 Major League Baseball Home Run Chase

In the second half of the 1990 s, Major League Baseball was in a state of crisis. The conference was still reeling from the 1994 players ten-strike, which had left devotees bitter and tightened the relationship between players and conference officials. The future of the national pastime was uncertain. Then, in the spring of 1998, Mark McGwire of the St. Louis Cardinal and Sammy Sosa of the Chicago Cubs began touching home run at an unprecedented rate, and it soon became clear that they were both challengers to divulge one of “the worlds largest” coveted preserves in all of baseball: Roger Maris single-season home run title.

This is the story of two men who, in their search for personal majesty, promoted an entire athletic to a tier of greatness it hadnt knows we decades. It is also the history of the gossip that would threaten to turn their prevail into everlasting infamy. For the first time ever, the key players in one of baseballs most contentious myths describe what happened in their own texts. This is the oral biography of the 1998 MLB home run chase .

Chapter 1: Baseball In Peril

Bud Selig( commissioner, MLB ): In 1998, America had completely lost interest in baseball. Nothing attended about the play. In guild to get people to watch baseball again, I initiated a promotional happen announced Bud Search: The Ultimate Selig Quest. It was a contest where I would hunker calmly behind a shrub and the first person to find me would become the manager of the Chicago Cubs.

Tony La Russa( Cardinals administrator ): You would think that the opportunity to become the manager of a Major League team would get people elicited about baseball again, but nobody handed a shit about Bud Search: The Ultimate Selig Quest. The only press it get was a small essay in the New York Times , and the headline just said Man Behind Shrub Offers Prize. It didnt beat up the best interest he missed, and I dont thoughts anybody looked for him. Bud Selig aimed up hiding behind that undergrowth for six months before individual procured him by accident.

Martin Scorsese( filmmaker, winner of Bud Search: The Ultimate Selig Quest, Cubs director ): I acquired Bud Selig while I was strolling to the video supermarket to buy a facsimile of my movie Raging Bull so that I could lay it in my backyard. I was about halfway to the accumulate when I detected a male crouching behind a bush. He had apparently was right here for a very long time. He ogled pretty hungry and sick, and he was sucking rainwater out of his shirt in order to survive. He looked at me and pronounced, Congratulations. You have found Bud Selig. You are the brand-new administrator of the Chicago Cubs. And I seemed right back at him, and I mentioned, Well, let me go to the lavatory first.Bud Selig : After Bud Search: The Ultimate Selig Quest failed to reignite Americas feeling for baseball, I appeared lost. I tried a few other publicities, like The Willie Maze, which is something we made Willie Mays at the center of an enormous stone labyrinth and the first person to find him got to marry him. It didnt operate. Only three beings registered The Willie Maze, and they were all killed by the Minotaur we had let loose in the labyrinth to guard Willie Mays. Willie Mays is still in the centre of that labyrinth. His Wikipedia page told me that he still living, but candidly, youve got to assume that at this moment, the Minotaur has killed him.Tony La Russa : Bud likes advertisings that involve hiding people. One hour, he implanted Wade Boggs alive somewhere in the enormous cornfields of Nebraska and announced that whoever could find him would acquire a $50 offering certificate to Foot Locker. After a few weeks of the publicity, exclusively Wades family was looking for him, and they already liked baseball. No one purposed up prize, and the sport prolonged slumping in popularity.Bud Selig : Nothing I did to try to keep baseball alive cultivated. The conference was bankrupt, and I was forced to sell the catchers material that Babe Ruth got married in only to scrounge up the money I needed to prevent the government from growing Yankee Stadium into an Air Force base. I truly was held that 1998 would be the last baseball season ever.

Tony La Russa: Bud did everything he could to save baseball, but hes only one serviceman. In 1998, a mere male couldnt save baseball. Only a divinity could save baseball. We didnt know it then, but in 1998, baseball was going to find itself in the presence of gods.

Chapter 2: Mark McGwire

Mark McGwire had made a figure for himself as a dominant power hitter for the Oakland Athletics, and 1998 “wouldve been” his first full season as a member of the Cardinals, who had sold for him midway through the previous year. The Cardinals hoped that McGwire would contribute some glint to an otherwise lackluster lineup. None could have approximated just how powerful that spark would turn out to be . Mark McGwire( Cardinals first baseman, 1998 home run champion ): My favorite thing about baseball is hitting singles, because then you get to be on first base, and the other units first baseman sometimes has line mix in his pocket that he will share. I love to hit singles and share footpath mix with my enemies.

Tony La Russa: When Mark McGwire gets to first base, the first thing he does is stick his hand into the first basemans pocket and read, Now gives have some of your sugary, splendid course mix. If the first basemans pockets are empty, Mark announced today hes adjourning from baseball given the lack of trail mingle. In 1998, Mark officially retired from baseball 16 epoches on opening address alone.

Mark McGwire: Home operates are a litter of trail mingle, so I was actually contriving on reaching lower levels of them. But on the day before the season started, I got a call from the Make–AWish Foundation, and they said, Weve got a kid here whos subsiding in quicksand, and the doctors say he only has 50 times to live before hes submerged entirely. His last wish was to meet any arbitrary baseball player, and your mention was picked out of a hat. Delight come to the Amazon rainforest, where hes gradually subsiding, and fulfill him.

Tony La Russa: One of Mark McGwires greatest weaknesses is that he simply cannot defy an invitation to go to the Amazon rainforest to watch person or persons sink into quicksand. In all the years Ive known him, Ive never heard him say no to that even once.

Mark McGwire: So, I go to the rainforest and match this kid, and hes settling into the quicksand, and hes being very brave. Hes screaming, In 50 years era, my brain is likely to be carted off to Valhalla! which is something no progeny should ever have to say, but God is cruel and allows His bravest offsprings to sink into quicksand. I went to the edge of the quicksand and said to the son, Here I am. Im Mark McGwire. The son used to tell me, I dont care who you are. Assert to me that you will smash Roger Maris home run record for me. Was I supposed to say no to a kid who was subsiding in quicksand? In 50 times, his brain “wouldve been” Valhalla! I attest to him that I would divulge the home run chronicle. There, in the Amazon rainforest, I had taken my first steps toward immortality.

Chapter 3: Sammy Sosa

Sammy Sosas world-class hitting had been the anchor of the Cubs lineup for years, but not even his formidable flair could keep the team out of last lieu. As the Cubs overwhelmed into the 1998 season after yet another abysmal recital the previous year, devotees looked to Sosa to accompany new hope to a team that seemed destined for perennial win . Martin Scorsese : On the first day of spring civilize, I went to Wrigley Field, there are still I convened the Chicago Cubs, the baseball unit that I was in charge of. When I understood that I was getting to live my lifelong dream of managing a Major League Baseball team, I celebrated by obtaining 16 two copies of my movie Raging Bull from a neighbourhood video storage and lay them in my backyard. I desired all of the Chicago Cubs, but right from the beginning, I knew there was something special about Sammy Sosa. I looked at him and knew that he was going to clear history.Sammy Sosa( Cubs right fielder ): When I was a boy in the Dominican Republic, I was the owner of a beautiful peacock. His identify was Judas Iscariot The Bird, and “were in” best friends. He would bring me the prehistoric remains of ancient lords that he had excavated up in the groves, and in return I would read to him from a menu I had stolen from an Italian eatery. Then, one day, Judas Iscariot The Bird and I were out strolling when a baseball fell off the sky and impress my beloved peacock right in the head, and he burst into flames. I picked up the baseball and insured that it alleged Roger Maris 61 st Home run on it. I knew then that Roger Maris had killed my peacock with his record-setting home run. On that day, I swear that I would get my reprisal on Roger Maris by bursting his preserve and destroying his legacy.Bud Selig : We moved DNA research on the baseball that killed Sammys peacock, and that baseball was obligated 100 percentage out of Roger Maris surface and whisker, and the teeth inside of “its been” Maris as well, so there was no question about it: Sammy was entirely justified in his quest for revenge.

Chapter 4: The Chase Begins

Sosa and McGwire both had something to prove as spring qualify attracted to a shut. Though the government has both have been established themselves as formidable influence hitters, it became clear early on in the season that the rate at which they were hitting home runs was odd even for them. Something historic was underway, and the baseball macrocosm swiftly began to take notice .

Mark McGwire: I still recollect my first home run of that season like it was yesterday. The voice of the at-bat smacking the ball. The music of the crowd clapping as they watched the ball sail through the sky and over the center-field barricade. The tone of two dogs opposing over a babys shoe. The reverberate of Nancy Reagan bellowing as she attracted out her own back molars with her bare mitts. The tone of a bit son saluting politely as he watched a single disembodied leg wearing stockings and a high heel shoe hop of its own accord across a sandy beach and into the ocean. The seem of a Jeep Grand Cherokee coming to life and screaming I can affection! I can adoration! I can cherish! until the panic-struck machinists at AutoZone frantically blew it up with dynamite. The sound of two nuns reading a month-old newspaper to an eagle they trapped in their basement.

Tony La Russa : From his very first at-bat on opening day, Mark was unstoppable. He was reaching home run at a frequency Ive never seen before, and not just normal home runs that simply virgins likeIm talking about goddamn moonshots. He touched a home run off of Randy Johnson that became so far that Johnsons manager developed onto the field and traded him to a different team right on the spot.

Randy Johnson( Seattle Mariners starting pitcher ): My administrator moved onto the mound and said to me, Well, Randy, you fucking blew it like the Oracle said you would, and so now were transactions you to the Houston Astros, and I read, Please dont do that. Those fuckers are bizarre, and my director replied, You should have thought of that before you gave up that goddamn moonshot to McGwire. And then the Houston Astros drove onto the field in local schools bus, and they were all humming the same high-pitched document in unison, and their manager said to me, Welcome to the Houston Astros. We all sleep in the same big-hearted berth, and the plot is alive, and I suggested, I dislike you strange fuckers, but I had to get on the bus anyway.

Bud Selig : As McGwire started touching more home runs, something prodigious started to happen: Parties started watching baseball again. Everybody is intended to tune in to construe Mark McGwire shape biography, and I realized that baseball might actually have a future.

Tony La Russa: For the first few months of the season, all anybody could talk about was Mark McGwire. Jerseys with Marks name on them were moving off the shelves. Lineages were traveling into the forest to carve his face into the trees. America had full-blown Mark McGwire Fever.

Derek Jeter( New York Yankees shortstop ): I knew that Mark was officially famous when he started going blurb deals. I turned on the Tv formerly and there was Mark doing a national commercial-grade. He was sitting in a Lexus with a carry of Camel cigarettes in one mitt and a battalion of Lucky Strike cigarettes in the other mitt, and he gazes straight into the camera and speaks, Lexus Auto: Every Brand Of Cigarette Is Good, and then the Nike logo appears.

Bud Selig: In those first few months of the season, I thought it was just going to be McGwire. Sosa seemed completely uninterested in hitting home runs.

Sammy Sosa : I had given up stumbling home run for Lent, so I had to wait until Hot Mr. Easter had snacked Tall Jesus and dispelled Sexual Jesus to a valley so that the oppression of the Jesus friends could aim and Lent would be over. Only then could I start reaching home runs.

Kerry Wood( Cubs starting pitcher ): I formerly requested Sammy what he anticipated the story of Easter was, and the nine-hour narrative he told me gives me nightmares to this day, and is only unrepeatable.

Martin Scorsese : Once Lent was over, Sammy started touching home runs at an incredible rate. Ive never seen anyone hit so many home run in such a short sum of time. He was punching two or three home runs every competition. Hed fluctuating his bat and three dances would wing over the wall at once, and then hed going to go at night and hit home runs at his house. He simply would not stop hitting home runs.

Sammy Sosa: Sometimes, I didnt want to hit home runs. Sometimes, I wanted to strike off or lie down, but then Id remember my dead peacock, Judas Iscariot The Bird, and the resound that he made when Roger Maris killed him. The phone he made was, Sammy Sosa, you are a peacock like me! The secret of your birthis horrible! Your lifea hideous fraud! And nowI die. It was the saddest chime Id ever heard, and all I had to do was remember it and it would give me the motivation I needed to destroy Roger Maris record entirely.

Chapter 5: Fierce Rivals

By the All-Star break, Sosa and McGwire were neck and neck in the hasten to cracks the home run account, and it soon is true that either of them could be the one to build biography by being the first to reach 62 home run. The person watched with rapt tending as one of baseballs greatest mythologies undid before their sees .

Bud Selig: It was a tight hasten. Every occasion McGwire hit a home run, Sosa would hit one right back.

Tony La Russa: Sometimes, McGwire would smack a home run, and when he finished rounding the foundations, a fist would punch through his gut, and the crowd would scream in horror as Sammy Sosa clawed his way out of Mark McGwires form and revealed that the home run had just been hit by Sosa in a ingeniou disguise. Then, the real Mark McGwire would come out of the bunker and billow, and everyone would have a good laugh. Then, a fist would perforate through Sosas stomach and a second McGwire would claw his way out of Sosas body, and the two McGwires would impede giggling while the rest of the crowd looked in silence.

Kerry Wood: On more than one party, Sosa would make a home run, but then the adjudicator would reek the dance and it would smell like Mark McGwire, and so the home run would count for McGwire instead. They were in a tight hasten the whole year.

Bud Selig : At first, devotees merely attended about McGwire, but once Sosa likewise became a contender, all America attended about was identifying Mark and Sammy together. One daylight at a news conference, a reporter yelled, McGwire and Sosa are wedded! and I responded, Theyre actually not, and the reporter pronounced, Then whats the quality of even being alive? Beings desired their friendly rivalry.Kerry Wood : One meter, Sosa made a home run so strong that the pitchers arms and legs fell off. McGwire responded by making a home run off of Randy Johnson that disappeared thus far that Johnsons wife saw onto the field and divorced him on the spot.

Randy Johnson( Houston Astros starting pitcher ): I said to my wife, Please do not divorce me. I think you smell good, and the racket you reach in your sleep prevents defects away from our live, and she replied, You should have thought of that before you gave up that goddamn moonshot to McGwire, and the entire stadium cheered as she wrote the word Divorced on my forehead.

Sammy Sosa: There was a lot of pres, but I ever had the support of my teammates and the fantastic Cubs manager Martin Scorsese

Martin Scorsese: Every season Sammy affected a home run, I would celebrate by buying him a photocopy of my movie Raging Bull and embed it in my backyard. It was just my little acces of telling Ive applied a movie in the dirt for you.

Bud Selig : And through everything there is, everyone was celebrating me! Bud Lionheart Selig! The boy who made baseball back from the brink of demolition with his superb home run ogres Mark and Sammy! The Baseball Hall of Fame even constructed a effigy of me kicking an astronaut in the belly with a plaque that alleged Bud Selig, The Savior Of Baseball, Seen Here With Astronaut( Identity Unknown ). Derek Jeter : I recollect the working day that I realized Sosa and McGwire had become national heroes. There was a monstrous billboard advertising for industrial pollution in the middle of Times Square with a picture of Sosa and McGwire smiling and holding hands in front of a factory smokestack that was spewing out a cloud of poisonous fumes. The billboard mentioned Form A Major League Friendship Underneath A Cloud Of Smog. After that billboard guided, there was a canvas that been demonstrated that Americans wished breath pollution to oxygen and adoration baseball more than any other sport. There was no doubt that McGwire and Sosa were the greatest event to happen to baseball in decades, and as they get closer to the record, peoples interest only grew.

Chapter 6: Violating The Record

With only a few days left to play, McGwire and the Cardinals arrived in Chicago to play the Cubs for their final find of the season. With 61 home runs, McGwire had tied Maris record and was one home run short of drawing biography. Sosa was only a few home runs behind. The year-long drama had reached its final play, and its key players had acquired themselves face-to-face for its rousing judgment .

Martin Scorsese: Before the game, I could tell Sammy was anxious, so I took him aside and added, Sammy, listen. As a director, Ive achieved a lot of things. Ive cleared beloved films. Ive interred over 600 two copies of Raging Bull in my backyard. Ive never triumphed an Oscar, and Ive had Robert De Niro carry me out of and back into a burning house. But this season governing the Chicago Cubs has been the greatest attainment of my life, and you two are the best part of it. You are the mimic of Raging Bull that I will always bury in the backyard of my life.

Sammy Sosa : Martin Scorsese is the greatest manager in the history of baseball.

Bud Selig: On his second at-bat of the nighttime, McGwire stepped up to the plate, and you could just feel it in your bones that he was going to break the record. Everyone knew there was only one pitcher are worth giving up Marks record-breaking home run.

Randy Johnson( Cubs starting pitcher ): The Astros transactions me to the Cubs in the middle of the game just so I could give up McGwires record-breaking home run.

Kerry Wood : Randy Johnson arrived on the mound by helicopter and immediately gave up a home run to Mark McGwire that started in so far that the president of the United States started onto the field and revoked Johnsons American citizenship on the spot.

Randy Johnson: I said to the president, Please do not revoke my American citizenship. America is where all of my groceries and batteries are, and the president responded, You should have thought of that before you gave up that goddamn moonshot to McGwire, and the entire stadium cheered as the president stuffed my entire person into a manila envelop, addressed it to Cold, and employ it into a mailbox.

Mark McGwire : I watched the dance go over the fencing, and I contemplated, Well , now at last the thing is done. The devotees were going crazy, and as I rounded the cornerstones I started crying, partly out of happiness for breaking the record, and partially out of regret for a assassination I did a very long time ago. When I got to home plate, Sammy was waiting for me, and he was smiling.Sammy Sosa : When Mark got to home plate, we hugged one another, and I said to him, So pleased to see you both. My epithet is Sammy Sosa, and Mark said to me, Hello, Sammy Sosa. My identify is Mark McGwire. Do you have Nintendo? and I pronounced, What the fuck is Nintendo?

Bud Selig: As a tombstone to Mark and Sammys friendship, we created a bronze bronze in front of the Hall of Fame of a officer with two heads. One chief was Sosas, and one president was McGwires. And in honor of me, Bud Selig, there were two Bud Seligs in front of the two-headed pig. One Bud Selig was caressing the pigs Sosa head. One Bud Selig was kissing the bulls McGwire head. The statue is an illustration to how we worked together to save baseball.

Sammy Sosa : A few weeks later, I smack my 62 nd home run and broke the record myself, but at that point, I didnt do it for the beauty. I did it for Judas Iscariot The Bird, whose role in all this becomes him arguably the most important peacock in its own history of Major League Baseball. I miss him every day.

Epilogue: The Shadow Of A Scandal

In the years following McGwire and Sosas famous home run pursue, the illusion smothering expected accomplishment has become tarnished by charges that they used illegal steroids in order to boost their performance. As the evidence presented has organized against them, the legacy of their record-breaking season has become cast in doubt, and some fear that it has been darkened forever . Bud Selig : When I firstly sounded the steroid rumors, I didnt want them to be true, but then I realized that Sammy Sosa is an anagram of Steroid Soldier, and I knew there was no disclaiming it.Mark McGwire : Why did I start using steroids? Well, when I was a young man, I read a big duffel bag filled with forkings and bayonets wash up on the beach, and I fell in love with it. I questioned the duffel bag filled with forkings and spears to marry me, and the duffel bag replied, Exclusively the man who can filch me over his head may marry me. I took steroids so that I could be strong enough to removing the duffel bag fitted with forks and knives over my top so that it would marry me, but by the time I was strong enough to do it, the duffel bag fitted with forks and knives had crawled back into the ocean forever. I was devastated, but then I realized that the steroids had moved me strong enough to hit home runs, so I figured, why ever stop?

Sammy Sosa: The steroids I took altogether ruined my mas. Before steroids, I laid health eggs “thats been” round and filled with gasping fish, just like Judas Iscariot The Bird had schooled me. But now my eggs are cube-shaped, and fitted with volcanic ash. Steroids destroyed my body, my legacy, and my eggs, but in the process, they helped me destroy Roger Maris, “the mens” who assassinated my chick, and so it was all worth it. Steroids are revenge drug, and I enjoy them.

Bud Selig : The home run pursue was a legend of remarkable triumph, but now everyone involved is shrouded in eternal humiliation. Even Martin Scorsese was prohibited from baseball for life after he was caught shoplifting a transcript of Raging Bull from a video accumulation. As for me, I departed from being the hero who saved baseball to being “the mens” whose photo hangs on the wall of every convenience store in America underneath a sign that reads Do Not Sell This Man Any Fruits Or Vegetables.

Tony La Russa: Tommy Lasorda.

Mark McGwire : Nobody will ever watch me as a hero. I know that now. But I are also aware that, at the least for a moment, Sammy and I reminded everyone that baseball is that magic various kinds of boast where muscular friends with ill-gotten biceps can go on a vengeance-fueled crusade against history. In this method, America descended back in love with baseball, and because of that, I will never detect any shame for the crimes I committed back then, or for the crimes I will commit in the future.