#Freddy has to think about both his old friends and his new families safety when considering a mission like this

[chipistrate]

I have a debt that won't leave my head : why didn't freddy ask Gregory or Vanessa to come back and rescue the other glamrock animatronics

Well we don't know he didn't for a fact- there's no real evidence one way or the other

The three came back to the Pizzaplex to set up MXES, and maybe they were planning on attempting to save the others while setting up the MXES system, but quickly realized they were beyond saving- or at least they they wouldn't be the ones to save them.

Maybe before that, they did try and simply failed- just because they try doesn't mean they'll succeed and we'll see the results of the rescue attempt.

The problem with saving them now is that they aren't like Freddy, who was infected and freed before it was too late- they're not infected anymore, they're just angry and not themselves. The issue isn't a virus anymore as that virus was already defeated, fixing them isn't as simple as playing a few arcade games, their code- their minds- they've been damaged and changed, and reversing it isn't easy, especially not in the states they're in right now. And my point with this is; maybe Freddy and the others knew this, knew that they were just damaged, and thought that saving them was impossible. Plus, none of this is to mention just how dangerous a rescue attempt would be- we saw how they acted around Cassie, and we saw how especially Roxy was still angry and looking for Gregory- a rescue attempt would be life threatening, and with everything on their plate already, a mission that they knew would most likely fail and could easily get one of them killed might not be worth it.

Though to be honest, it sounds unlikely when thinking of Freddy specifically- maybe Gregory and Vanessa, but those are Freddy's friends, he's described them as such, and I think he'd be able to convince the two to at least try. But I don't think it worked.

TLDR; looking at his character he most likely did, but the attempt failed. Either that or he had to give up the attempt before it started, knowing that his friends just weren't themselves anymore and wanting to protect his family from them.

Not sure if this made sense- but I hope I got my point across uierjgherfl

[animationstarlover1983]

Fnaf system reboot au

Vanessa post pizzaplex incident: after the pizzaplex incident and being saved/freed Vanessa is left quite scarred (both physically and psychologically) so as a way to cope and heal she try’s to do things differently, this is a list of the things she does to try and get over both glitchtrap and vanny.

1. Vanessa quits her job at the pizzaplex: this is probably the most likely thing to happen, I’d imagine she would never want to work at the pizzaplex or fazbear entertainment llc ever again, she manages to get her old job back at silver parasol as a creative designer and beta tester (it was a job she enjoyed and it payed a lot more than a security guard), she also no longer lives at the fazplex tower and instead moved in with Quinn/tape girl along with Gregory and Freddy (since they didn’t know how many followers glitchtrap had or if fazbear entertainment llc would be looking for Freddy and the others they have to sometimes stay incognito) in order to keep each other safe like a buddy system.

2. Vanessa spends more time outdoors: since before glitchtrap and vanny happened Vanessa liked the outdoors and nature so she tries to spend more time outside rather than staying indoors because vanny hated nature and preferred staying inside and using technology, she also begins doing more exercise and yoga, she also begins taking tennis and swimming classes (since those were her favorite outdoor activities).

3. Vanessa spends more time with family and friends: it would be weird to think of a person as a coping mechanism but Vanessa always feels calmer, happier and safer when she’s with people she cares about, (when she was first saved/freed she tried to avoid being around people because she was worried vanny could come back but this just proved to make things worse because she didn’t like being alone worrying something would happen to her, vanny pretty much hated everyone especially children, (the only person she could tolerate was glitchtrap) she also enjoys being at her workplace silver parasol studios since her friends also work their with her, she also likes to spend time with Gregory and the glamrocks who help her any way they can, sun helps her with advice on how to deal with nightmares and stuff, sun also shares his bad time when moon took over with Vanessa, her mom also visits and hangs with Vanessa as well (her mom knows about what happened), Quinn Thompson/tape girl, Luis Cabrera, Daniel Rocha, Nora Wu and Tristan Mazely (characters from help wanted and special delivery) are Vanessa’s only friends that know what happened with glitchtrap (minus Luis) and vanny because they were also victims of glitchtrap so they all promised to keep this secret to themselves in order to protect Vanessa and keep anyone from finding out about glitchtrap, they along with the glamrocks create a buddy system with each other to look out for one another in case glitchtrap has any other cult followers.

4. Vanessa goes on a health diet: when Vanessa was still possessed vanny had a habit of just eating any food she can find in the pizzaplex, (which of course is not good) so Vanessa’s mom Veronica, Freddy and Quinn put her on a health diet for only healthy foods, chica brings her a cook book for healthy but delicious recipes, the only junk foods she’s allowed to have are ice cream, frozen yogurt and milkshakes (since those were always her favorites).

5. Vanessa does arts and crafts: Vanessa was always super smart and creative and loved doing arts and crafts before this entire incident happened, arts and crafts revolve around her hands and this gives her a sense of safety and self control showing that she’s no longer a prisoner in her own body.

6. Vanessa tries new hairstyles: Vanessa normally just used a ponytail but decide she wanted to try new hairstyles to try and change her habits, she ask to Roxy for advice and Roxy also gives her different hairstyles.

7. Vanessa deals with her memories: when Vanessa was freed/saved she couldn’t fully remember what happened until she had a certain nightmare, not only does Vanessa have her own memories but she now also has all of vannys memories, however she can’t just access or remember them Willy nilly, basically in order for one of vannys memories to trigger Vanessa has to see something that feels vaguely or vividly familiar (say like a child alone or a rabbit or Halloween mask) one of vannys memories would trigger causing her to witness the memory and when it was over she would find herself in the midst of a panic attack, in order to deal with these memories she decides to just think about them so when she does get a flashback they don’t affect her and cause a panic attack, with the help of Gregory and moon Vanessa practices lucid dreaming in order to deal with nightmares.

8. Vanessa’s sees a psychiatrist: when Vanessa was freed she put 2 and 2 together that glitchtrap and someone else (patient 46) were behind her therapists going missing, at first she was hesitant but decided to see a private psychiatrist to help her.

9. Vanessa and rabbits: after being freed Vanessa has difficulty when it comes to rabbits (rabbits were her favorite animal) so Gregory thought of something, even though it doesn’t seem like much Gregory drew Vanessa a picture of a new rabbit persona called bunessa a pink floppy eared rabbit with green eyes, unlike vanny bunessa is nice and smart and helpful, Vanessa appreciates this drawing Gregory made and keeps it on the fridge.

10. Vanessa and knives: cooking and baking was a hobby Vanessa always enjoyed doing before the pizzaplex incident, but after being freed she’s extremely scared of holding a knife let alone just being near one, but Vanessa wants to get over this fear and began cooking again so the others come up with a way to help her, they would basically practice before getting to the cooking and baking part, step 1 Vanessa and her family would go to the kitchen and Quinn would take out a small butter knife (they use a butter knife to begin with to not overwhelm Vanessa) from the kitchen drawer and put it on the kitchen counter which is on the other side of the kitchen, Vanessa’s task is to slowly pick up the knife and safely use it to cut something then put it away, (Freddy would be holding Gregory while candy cadet guards them just in case), step 2 Vanessa gets used to the knife’s presence and slowly touches it until she can pick it up, step 3 she carefully takes it to the drawer, step 4 she carefully cuts a piece of butter into 4 pieces, step 5 she cleans the butter knife and put it in the dishwasher, she then lets out a breath of relieve (after that they used a smaller knife).

Other minor changes.

1. Her favorite color is now pink instead of purple

2. She avoids watching tv shows or movies with violence and death

3. She avoids wearing clothing that are tight or stuffy, the feeling they give her reminds her of vanny and the rabbit costume, she also doesn’t wear face mask and stuff

4. She doesn’t like staring into reflective surfaces for too long

[byorder-fanfic]

Finn’s Lost Loves

Summary: Finn’s lost more than anyone else knew because of the war, and every stupid thing his family have done afterwards to keep themselves in charge.

Word count: 2019

Warnings: Mentions war and blood, talks about eating disorder, self harm and self-esteem, and homophobia (only a little bit, period accurate), a lot of toxic masculinity 

Author’s note: This is a lot of angst with little bits of fluff and a sad ending. Sorry. It’s basically an overview of Finn’s character, backstory and his relationships with the family that we’ve never gotten to see! It’s based off a piece of prose in my drafts, so if you guys like this, I might post that as well. Hope you enjoy, and please comment, I love hearing your opinions and any constructive criticism you might have xx

Finn loved books. Once upon a time, he really did. He loved the way Tommy did the voices, and Arthur made those wild motions with his hands, and John could always make him laugh as he told him about that thing that happened in the pub last week. He loved how Ada and Polly would tuck him up in bed, place a kiss on his temple and read the letters from the boys. Then they came back, and he didn’t need to read letters. Or books. Or anything really. Soon, he didn’t even go to school. He just wanted to be with his brothers. Now they tell him to piss off more than they beg him to stay. Tommy and Polly scold him for not being able to read off the betting boards, and John makes everyone else laugh when he holds a big volume under Finn’s nose, so that everyone knew that Finn was still illiterate. Finn hates books.

Finn loved Church. He didn’t need Polly to drag him by the heels as he sobbed under the Virgin Mary’s stare like his brothers when he hopped, skipped and a jumped all his way down the road. He always sat by Isaiah, the two boys out-screaming each other in the hymns and seeing who Polly would scold first. He wore the crucifix everyday, and treated his rosary with all the sacred carefulness a six year old could manage. He loved the psalms and Jeremiah’s voice ringing through the streets and the way everyone was always together (even Charlie) on Sunday. Then he had to light candles, praying for his brothers’ safety that was only answered with their damnation as they dragged back blood and French mud into Watery Lane. Now he cries through the paper thin pages of a Bible and his only prayers are that the boys never see his tears. What did he have to cry about after all? He was never a soldier, but he should learn to be a man. Finn hates Church.

Finn loved healing. Ada dragged him along to her nursing classes and soon his only reason to come to Church was to learn how to tie bandages and fix up cuts and bruises. No one noticed his long absences- they either assumed he went to school still, or they were far too busy with the race tracks to care for the whereabouts of their youngest brother. But then he'd slipped up, and he'd never seen his brothers laugh so hard when he proudly told Polly he was going to be a nurse one day. Even his aunt and sister, usually the ones on his side, had to purse their lips together as Arthur roared out: "Hear that, Tom? We got ourselves a Nurse Shelby here! Want a dress and hat to go with it?" He told them all to fuck off and stamped out, but he didn't understand what he said that was so funny. When he asked Isaiah, who had just turned fourteen and starting to see Finn less and less, he just said that being a nurse was a woman's job. He didn't like being laughed at for being a girl, but he didn't know why. He still hoarded textbooks about anatomy and the like under his bed, tracing over the detailed pictures with his skeleton finger as he wished. And wished. And wished. And almost prayed that he could read the little ink words. When he found Arthur with another red line on his neck, he offered him some medicine to cure his big brother's blues, thinking just a bit of Tokyo would keep his brother here with him. No one asked why Finn was sad. Oh well, at least he could protect his brothers now. Finn hates healing. Finn loved food. Always the big eater in the Shelby household, he managed to always have a full stomach despite the poverty that reigned. He was a stickler for sweets, though, and as soon as he mastered the art of sneaking rings and wallets from unsuspecting strangers, he soon graduated to thieving lollipops and boiled sweets and even some toffees that he proudly deposited into his aunt's hand with a toothy grin. But the boys would look into his empty plate and his skinny frame and tell him he'd better watch out, soon he might actually have a shape under those bulky clothes. They always laughed, and he felt himself completely embarrassed at the dinner table. He dumped more sugar than milk into his tea and stole chips when they went to the seaside. He'd always offer to share, wanting to provide for them for once, but they'd tell him he was the one who needed it. He sees his ribs and the little vertebrae of his spine and wonders why can't he just be strong like his brothers. Even though he despises it, he picks up boxing to fill out his form. Maybe training with Isaiah was an extra benefit, but the older boy had long since talked to Finn on the regular, and made a point to laugh at him when he fell onto the floor. So, Finn graduated from second helpings of lunch and too-sweet tea to the sour delights of whiskey and cigarettes. Just like his brothers. Finn hates food. Finn loves his family. He loves Polly, the mother he never had, and will never feel like he does enough to repay her for his entire childhood. Then Michael came back, and soon there wasn't any chore lists on the downstairs table for someone to read out for him, or little check ups throughout the day as she makes sure he's okay. That was when he realised exactly why Polly raised him in her empty arms. He loves Arthur: his eldest brother, who used to lift him up on his shoulders and teach him to draw. Finn still has faded old pictures of galloping stallions (signed in block letters: A.W.S) slipped between the filled out pages of the sketchbooks he hides in his wardrobe. Then Arthur came back, with what everyone calls Flanders Blues, but no one explains, and Finn feels like he's losing his brother everyday when he comes back smelling like a brewery with blood on his fists. Finn loves Tommy. A father figure to him, the kind of man he wants to be when he grows up. But then Greta died and Tommy went to war, and the man who took him horse riding every weekend was gone, and this Tommy was colder. Finn loves John as the best friend he's ever had, always laughing together, giving sometimes useful advice and finding days to just spend time with each other. Despite John's bazillion kids, widowerhood, and then his new wife, he's always had time to spare for his little brother. John was the one who told him what bisexual was when he found Finn sobbing in his room, he was the one that took him to the doctor when he passed out from malnutrition, and he's the one that made him swear to never use razor blades on himself again. Finn loves Ada. He sees why Freddie calls her an angel, and used to love it when she pretended to take Finn to the library when in fact they were both slipping away to a Communist meeting, which would usually end up in Ada and Freddie slipping away and leaving Finn in the trusted supervision of leftist radicals that he happily chatted away to. Ada always took care of him, making sure he was never involved in the business (on either side) and telling him that being a soldier is a life sentence, not an honour. He lives because Ada keeps him safe and sane. Then Ada leaves. Finn hates the Shelby name that everyone screams at him like a condemnation, that invites slurs and hatred that only he gets because he doesn't look like a proper Shelby man. Finn hates his family. Finn loved Isaiah. A childhood crush that brought butterflies to his stomach and blushes to his freckled face. He sketched the boy's face so many times, he knew it by memory. They held hands when they were chased down the streets, laughing and sprinting as their spoils stayed securely in their pockets. But Isaiah was older than him. Soon after adolescence hit the Jesus boy and Peaky Blinders offered him a role, without the constant of Church, the two greatest of friends became almost strangers to one another. But Finn still loved him. He never told anyone, of course. He knew he wasn't a real homosexual, because he most certainly did enjoy holding hands and kissing the cheeks of girls his age (poor boy was flustered to ever do more!) but his heart still belonged to the preacher's boy. With more faithful women in the family than ever before, Finn knew he would be crucified if he ever told anyone. John was the only one who knew, and that was based on the fact he paid more attention to his brother than anyone else combined. He said he should just go for it, but Finn knew Isaiah couldn't be like him. And even if Jeremiah was always the kindest man that Finn ever met, he still didn't trust that the cross on his neck wouldn't shame him or laugh at him for the fact he was completely enamoured with his son. Then Finn got drunk, and when he woke up, his entire family knew exactly how he felt and Isaiah wouldn't look at him in the eye. He ran away to the stables, crying on Uncle Charlie's shoulder who told it would be alright. He made sure to keep an eye on Finn ever since, keeping an eye on his wrists and fists. The incident was soon forgot by everyone but him. Finn couldn't find it in him to hate Isaiah, but he knew he didn't love him any more. Finn has never loved Michael. He thought he could, at first, when he saw the tweed suit and a face more innocent than his. But then Tommy promoted him almost on the spot, and Finn had never at once felt so much rage bubble inside him. Everything he has done for his brothers, every passion he sacrificed, every humiliation he shouldered, just so they could see him as an equal. But no, there are only three Shelby brothers as far as anyone else is concerned, and Finn carries on as errand boy. He ignores all Ada's good advice, and swear that he will make his brothers proud of him one day. So, he puts on the thorn crown of a Peaky cap and wears the waistcoat and wool coat of his brother's likeness, and parades about Small Heath like he actually was apart of the makeshift royal family. Then Finn found Michael and Isaiah kissing in the alleyway. Even though Finn had made a point to announce that his brothers had started giving him more work, Isaiah still fucked off to the pub with Michael every night, devoting his time and attention to only him, and Finn couldn't understand why. Now he did. If Finn had been violent like Arthur, he certainly wouldn't have thought twice about taking the cup on his curls and cutting the smirk off of his cousin. He had stolen his brothers' respect, his surrogate mother's attention, his place in the business, the affections of the one boy Finn had ever loved. He had stolen Finn's everything, and Finn hated him. They both froze and stuttered. Excuses about just being friends, just experimenting, but he saw the way they held each others shaking hands just as he and Isaiah used to hold onto each other as they raced through the streets. "I'm glad you're together." He shocked them both with a forced smile. "You both deserve to be happy." The two were kinder to him after that, almost back to the old friendship he had missed, and Finn knew he didn't hate Michael. Or Isaiah. Or any of his family, really. No, Finn hated himself.

[merakiaes]

Obviously Oblivious - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested: By @meganlpie

Prompts: #65 from the fluff/humour-list. 

Warnings/notes: This has not been read through so I apologize in advance if there’s any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 1855

Summary: Tommy confronts you about your feelings for him, awkward fluff. 

Today had been a rather uneventful day, as opposed to the rest of the week. You’d had a day off from your job as Arthur’s assistant, as him and the Peaky Blinders had had business outside of town, to which you weren’t allowed to accompany them for your own safety.

You were in no way incapable of taking care of yourself should the situation ever call for it and you made sure they knew it, but still, whenever they went away on business, you didn’t put up a fight when they told you to stay behind, knowing it was because they cared about you rather than thinking you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Because you would, without a doubt.

You’d first met the Shelbys about a year before the oldest three headed off to fight in the war. You had befriended Ada on your first nurse lesson, and although she hadn’t come to the rest, you stayed friends, having clicked immediately.

She would come over to your house every day once she knew you were done in class to complain about her overprotective brothers, who kept her under such close watch that she couldn’t run off with one of her older brothers’ old childhood friend that, she was in love with.

Although you wouldn’t admit it whenever she called you out on it, you were a true sucker for romance, and found their forbidden love strangely adorable and more than anything, passionate. And so, you started lending them your house on the rare occasion when they couldn’t meet outside or at Freddie’s house thanks to Ada’s brothers.

Thanks to this, Freddie grew to respect you, despite having been hesitant to a start. And this in turn, only caused Ada and yourself to grow closer.

You had been friends for a good four months before you finally met her family, the two of you drunkenly stumbling into Polly’s house after a long night at The Garrison, and just your luck, you had tripped on a carped out of fright when Polly had popped into the room and gone berserk at the state of you, and landed right in Thomas Shelby’s lap.

That had been the start to the silly schoolgirl crush that you, still to this day, harbored. Although now, it had grown into love. A painful, unrequited, pathetic love.

When the boys came back from the war, Arthur had taken you away from your job as a nurse and given you a job as his secretary. Now that you were close enough to everyone in the Shelby family, they wanted you close to home at all times in case there would ever be a danger for your life.

You didn’t mind it. You liked working as a nurse, but strangely enough, you enjoyed sorting papers, as well.

But as you now had to see Tommy every day, as opposed to the way you would avoid him to your best ability otherwise, the new arrangements did nothing to calm your racing heart, leaving you a flustered mess every time he was around.  

Ada knew about your feelings, of course. And it didn’t take long for the others to figure it out, too, as you, the girl who was always talking, seemed to become a mute every time Tommy entered the room.

Today was the first day in a long time that you hadn’t been forced to see him, and you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you wouldn’t have to make a fool out of yourself, or to miss him.

You blew a strand of hair out of your face as you talked to yourself quietly, scrubbing away at your living room floors.

Just then, a knock sounded from the front door, causing you to jump in fright. As you had been frozen for a moment, there came another knock, causing you to come back to reality and jump to your feet quickly.

Leaving the rag and brush on the floor, you wiped your hands on the apron tied around your waist, running over to the door and hurrying to open it.

Tommy halted his hand, having just been about to knock another time when the door disappeared and was replaced by your face.

You instantly felt your whole body tense up at the sight of him, even more so when he turned to look at you, his breathtakingly blue eyes staring right into yours.

“Uh…” You cleared your throat, trying your best to shake yourself out of your trance and act normal. “Tommy, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced.” He answered without too much emotion in his voice, motioning with his head inside. “Can I step inside for a moment?”

“Oh, of course.” You nodded, hurriedly stepping to the side to let him inside. You mentally scolded yourself for looking so desperate, trying to mask it with a smile. But unbeknownst to you, he noticed your anxious demeanor without any struggle whatsoever.

As he stepped inside, pulling off his gloves and hat, you closed the door behind him, the two of you then making your way into your living room to get away from the cold in the hallways.

He instantly found a seat in one of the armchairs, letting out a sigh, before speaking, cutting right to the case. “Rumor has it, I make you nervous.”

Your eyes widened significantly as his words registered in your brain, the wheels in your head spinning and turning furiously in a desperate attempt to come up with a half-decent answer, but all that came out was stuttering.

“I- wha- where did you hear that?”

You had never been as thankful for the fire burning to your side as you were then, the orange glow luckily covering up the fact that your face had turned beet red.

Tommy only gazed at you, the way only he did, with a hint of a smile on his lips. “Aunt Polly talks a lot after a few drinks. But I didn’t need to hear it from someone directly to notice.” There was a glint in his eye as he continued, looking an awful lot like smugness. “You’re just too fucking obvious, aren’t you?”

“I-“ You stuttered to a start, before turning defensive, putting on a hard glare as you, admittedly, got very offended by his words despite the fact that they were probably true. “I beg your pardon? Did you come here to make fun of me? Because in that case, I’d like you to leave!”

You marched over to him, grabbing the gloves and hat he’d dumped on the coffee table and throwing them in his lap, the blade luckily not cutting him. He didn’t see phased at all at your outburst, however, only grabbing them and throwing them back to the table all while holding eye contact with you.

“I didn’t come to make fun of you.” He spoke slowly, leaning back into the chair.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow and trying to look as intimidating as possibly to cover up the fact that you were completely flustered and literally screaming on the inside. “No? Then what do you want?”

The corner of his lips tugged slightly. “I came to confirm whether or not the rumors were true.”

“Well, it looks to me like you already know the answer so you can go now.” You told him, your voice shaking slightly. “I have things to do.”

“Is that so?” He only raised an eyebrow, not looking like he was intending on leaving anytime soon.

You narrowed your eyes, motioning with an arm to the mess on the floor. “If you didn’t notice, my carpet is completely littered with broken glass and soaked in your little brother’s blood from when him and Isiah broke in when I was sleeping last night, Finn with a fucking knife stuck in his side.”

His face flashed with realization for a brief second. “Right, aunt Poll told me about that. Thank you. For patching him up and helping him through the night.”

“You’re welcome.” You muttered back, finally seeming to calm down from your flustered peak a bit. “But you really need to get him sorted. I love him like he’s my own brother, but I don’t want him and his friends to think they can just come and go as they please and use me as their personal nurse.”

He nodded, face stern but eyes soft. “I’ll get him right, you have my word.”

You offered a small nod of your head back, and your arms that had previously been crossed over your chest, relaxed and wrapped around your body, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under his stare now that the annoyance had worn off, leaving only the realization that he now pretty much knew about your feelings for him.  

Just when you thought you were about to die from the awkwardness hanging in the air, he moved in his seat, reaching out his hand. “Come ‘ere.”

The only thing running through your head in that moment was, what the hell was he doing? You didn’t understand what he was playing at or why he was even still there. He had gotten the answer he came for, made fun of you for it despite claiming not to. What more could he possibly want?

But nonetheless, you found yourself moving in his direction, almost as if pulled towards him by his outstretched hand.

Carefully, you put your hand into his as requested, although very cautiously as this was entirely new, and the next thing you knew, he tugged on your arm slightly, causing you to fall into his lap with a yelp.

He chuckled at your terrified expression as you struggled to get out of the uncomfortable position. “Doesn’t this seem an awful lot familiar to you?” He asked, obviously teasing you and causing you to huff as you hurried to stand, cheeks red with both frustration and shame as he was obviously messing with you.

But then his other hand met the small of your back, pushing you back down into his lap. Before you could comment on it, however, he shook his head with a chuckle.

“For someone who is so obvious, you sure are oblivious.”

And before you knew it, his hand had found its way to the back of your neck and pulled you down to his face, his lips pressing against yours.

Your eyes went wide, and you felt your whole body freeze up, a part of you still thinking this was some sort of sink joke played on your behalf. But as he pressed his lips harder against yours, urging you to respond to his advances, you melted into it, eyes slowly falling closed and hand coming to wrap into his hair.

Only then, when all of your feelings spilled into that one kiss, did you realize how painfully, obviously oblivious you had been. This whole time, you had been avoiding the man you were in love with because you were scared of his rejection, when in reality, he had loved you since the first time you fell for him – literally.

[pedros-mustache-main]

secret no more

“hello, jess! for the sd!deaky night... how would friends and family members react to knowing that [y/n] is dating the john richard deacon from queen? how long would [y/n] and john wait to tell them?” for @aprilaady​

since meeting john deacon, he has been your dirty little secret. you’ve told no one about the nature of your relationship with the bassist, save one friend, danielle, who knows of all your arrangements as they come and go out of safety precautions. but even she only knows you have a new benefactor and his name is john and, for once, the age-gap between you both is not monstrous. she doesn’t need to know anything more. really, no one does. so long as you are safe and well cared for, he can be your mystery man, the one who dotes on you endlessly but won’t show his face at an art gallery exhibition or take you to dinner in public.

that is, of course, until you decide you love him and he decides he loves you.

you keep yourselves to yourselves for a while longer after transitioning from arrangement to relationship. things are... awkward for a bit, and you’d like to work all the kinks out before introducing him to danielle, your parents, or even the waiter at the dinner table.

you catch yourself rebuffing his romantic gestures at the start. it’s strange when he walks into your studio apartment unannounced, and it’s several weeks before he finally offers you a key to his own home. sometimes, when you decide to cook him dinner after a long day at the studio and he walks into his flat and kisses you soundly on the mouth, you stiffen at the touch, still unaccustomed to such displays of affection. for his part, he doesn’t talk much about the band, though he does mention freddie more than brian or roger combined. he makes no move to change that, and you don’t push him.

after six months of simply being together and learning about the other in new, exciting ways, he asks you to move into his house. you decide then it’s time to break the news to your parents.

you bring him home with you to the countryside on a summer visit. your parents are older, professionals for longer than they have been child-rearers. it’s just you, and your independence comes from them. they never really doted on you, their stiff upper-lip a cornerstone in their parenting techniques. still, you know you should warn them that you’re bringing someone along before springing a boyfriend on them, let alone the first boyfriend you’ve ever brought home.  

standing in a phone booth, you call your parents as john verbally spars with the cab driver outside. (something about an incorrect charge. you don’t question him on those things.) “mum?” you say when there’s a pop as the other line picks up.

“[y/n], we thought you’d be here by now.” your mother’s voice is even as always. she’s not worried, even though she might pretend.

“i—well, we had to switch cabs. it’s a long story. we should be there within the hour. i just wanted to let you know so you could plan dinner accordingly.”

“we? are you bringing someone?”

“that’s also why i called.” you suck in a deep breath and glance over your shoulder. john is still shouting with the cabbie, though he’s finally begun to move away from the edge of the sidewalk. his face is flushed, hair tousled by the unencumbered wind. “i’m bringing—um—my boyfriend. partner, really. i don’t like the term boyfriend.”

“partner? you’ve never mentioned anything about a partner before.”

“i am now, and he’s coming with me for the week. thought you should know.”

john opens the telephone booth. “got another cab. that blasted driver said i owed him fifteen quid but that’s fuckin’—” he stops himself short, blanching. “oh. is that your...”

smiling despite yourself, you nod. “yes, it’s my mother.”

his lip curls upwards. “i’ll just be... outside.”

you remind your mother of your estimated arrival time before hanging up and sliding into the new cab beside john. he shifts in his jeans.

“did she hear me?” he asks.

“i think so.”

“wonderful first impression.”

you grab his hand. “my father swears more than anyone i know. you’ll be fine.”

when the cab pulls up the winding drive to your parent’s cottage, your heart trips in your chest. god, you’re nervous. this means something, doesn’t it? introducing john to your parents? you hope they like him. you hope he likes them.

your mother steps out of the front door before you can make it halfway up the pebble-strewed walkway. she’s dressed in her usual—a sharp business suit despite her break from teaching at the nearby university and the warm summer weather. your father putters behind her, gray hair sticking out from beneath his jaxon cap.

your mother wastes no time. “well, you must be [y/n]’s partner. i’m maryellen, and this is my husband clyde.”

your father merely removes the pipe from his mouth and lifts it in a gesture of greeting.

john accepts your mother’s hand and shakes it. “i’m john deacon, ma’am.”

your mother scoffs. “god, please don’t call me ma’am, not when you’re old enough to be on my faculty.”

you sigh, eyes squeezed shut. “mum.”

she ignores you. “john deacon? that name sounds familiar.”

“i’m in a band. queen.”

“oh yes. my students talk about that band. how lovely.” she steps to the side and motions to the cottage. “won’t you come in, john? we’re delighted to have you.”

later that evening, when you’re snug beside him in the guest bedroom, john suddenly starts to laugh. you startle from your half-slumber, lifting your head from his chest.

“what is it?” you mumble.

“i am old enough to be on your mum’s faculty, you know,” he says, squeezing your shoulder.

you groan. “shut up.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The truth and a warning; AU Ghost! Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG one in the making but I finally sat down and made a sequel part to my Legend of the Band fic.  Now I’ve got ONE LAST PART and it’ll be published up in just a few minutes so I hope you all enjoy this little fic and for new readers coming in, READ PART ONE FIRST BEFORE YOU READ THIS!!!

Warnings: Parent arguments, fluff, angst, demons mentions, supernatural elements, kidnapping, paranormal stuff.

Taglist:

@geek-and-proud​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queendeakyy​

@queensdivas​

@eileen-crys​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kairosfreddie​

_____________________________________________________________

I was running through this dark hallway.  I didn’t know why I was running, all I knew was that I had to keep going.  Soon enough I came to this fire-lit room.  It looked like something out of a cult film with candles, Satanic markings all over the wall, and a large fireplace that was just roaring with fire. At the center was a large pentagram of some kind with candles at each of the stark points.

“Don’t go to them. You’re putting yourself in danger. Your whole family will be in danger if you don’t stay away.” There he was again. I looked up and soon appearing right at the center of the pentagram was a man with shaggy blonde hair, a scruffy appearance with a five o’clock shadow, wearing a trench coat, a white button up shirt with a long red tie, and black dress pants.

“Who are you?” I asked.  He just looked at me with that same sharp expression.  He opened his mouth but another voice spoke out of his mouth.

“Wake up!”

I woke up with a gasp and glared up to see Roger hovering right in front of me.

“Roger what the fuck? You trying to give me a heart attack or something?” I hissed at him.

“Well if you had woken up the first time, I wouldn’t have needed to do that, would I? Now c’mon. I want you to see the sunrise with me.” I got off his bed and stretched myself.

It’s been almost 3 months since my friends and I came up here to Rockfield studios.  Since then I had been coming up here in secret without telling my nana or my dad. Most of the times I would come up would be when Freddie and the boys would want me to hear new songs they got (Freddie said that since I came to the farm, it’s like the creativity they once had when they were alive suddenly came back).

But throughout all the visits I have done with the guys, I—still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell John the truth about……who I really am. I mean how would you be if you were in my shoes? And how would you tell the spirit of your dead grandfather that you’re his grandchild without freaking him out.  Or causing some sort of ghostly pandemic where he’d like explode all of London or something.

Roger hovering right outside his room waiting for me, I stood up and put my hoodie and sneakers on and followed him.  My thoughts also went back to the dream I had last night. It was also been practically 3 months since I’ve had that same dream over and over again.

At first it happened the night I came back home.  But one month later it came back to me.  Then it was once a week, then once every other day, and now since a month ago, it’s been every night.  I don’t know why this guy keeps coming into my dreams or why he says the same thing over and over again.

Roger and I finally reached outside.  The snow crunching underneath my feet with each step I took.

“You know you’ve really been out of it lately. You sure you’re not sick or something?” I looked up at him and said.

“Nah. I was just dreaming.”

“Naww about me? Lovie I’m flattered.” He teased flirtatiously as he tossed his long, flowing hair aside. “Alright c’mon. Fred’s just about to wake up, we gotta get up to the top of the barn before he does.” He flew towards the inside of the barn and I ran after him.

He now floated on top of the second level of the barn where mostly some more hay and old bags of manure stood at.  It was then I finally told me.

“Eww no way Rog. Besides you’re like in your 70’s now. It’s just weird.”

“Technically I would be, but I’m still physically, in a sense, 26.” As I came up to the ladder that led up to the second level I continued while stepping up the ladder.

“Whatever. But no, my dreams are that every time I’m running through this dark corridor. Then next thing I know I’m in like—a cult room. Candles surrounding everywhere, a roaring fireplace, like even more so than when you guys make the fire roar and there’s all these pentagrams and Satanic markings. But what’s weird is that there’s always this—man standing right at the center of this large pentagram.”

I finally reached the top and Roger couldn’t help but tease at me again.

“Wow. Never knew you were into that kinda stuff (n/n).” I glared at him.

“Does your mind ever leave the gutter? Besides the guy’s like in his mid-40’s or something.” I finally got over and now stood alongside Roger.  He then raised his hand up and I soon began levitating in the air and soon the two of us phased through the ceiling until we ended up on the roof of the barn.

“Well it’s about time you slowpokes got here.” Freddie’s voice soon spoke up.

“Wha-but-you-but-you were-I thought-that-you…..” Roger began stammering. “You dirty rotter! I was supposed to finally be the first one up to see the sunrise!”

“Oh don’t get your celestial knickers in a twist Roger. Remember I once told you there was only room in the band for one hysterical Queen, well there’s only room for one hysterical ghost on this property. And that’s me.”

“God if I could wring your neck in I would.”

“Oh (Y/n) dear! So glad you could make it! How did you sleep?” he hovered over to me, circling around me before stopping right in my face.  He observed me closely before noticing the bags under my eyes at this point. “Wow, dear no offense but you look absolutely knackered.”

“Yeah I uhh—was having that dream again.”

“You mean the one about that fellow in the trench coat?” One time Freddie actually came into my dreams and I was forced to tell him just what was going on.

I nodded.

“Wait you know about these dreams Fred?” Roger asked.

“Yes. But it’s between (Y/n) and I. So unless you want to know more you won’t hear about it from—”

“I’ve told him about it.” I interrupted him.

“Wait so this chap in the trench coat. He—doesn’t hurt you does he?” Rog asked worriedly.

“No, no not at all. But he—he always gives me some kind of warning. Saying things like I’m in danger, or stay away from them. But this time he told me that my family could now be in danger if I refuse to stay away.” I sat down on the roof bringing my knees up to my chest as I exhaled outward, my breath now visible thanks to the cold. “I’m really starting to get scared about—what it all means?”

“Well it could just be a fluck or something? Sometimes dreams don’t mean anything.” Roger said as he sat to my left while Fred sat at my right.

“I’ve been having this dream since meeting you guys it—has to mean something. Doesn’t it?” There was silence between us till Fred spoke up.

“Dreams are a silly thing. They can be there one moment and gone the next. I think I once recalled about my overbite being a lot bigger. And all that meant was that I was truly what my friends once nicknamed me, Bucky.” It was then he actually made his overbite extend further out (think of a cartoon character at this point) as he then growled and grumbled as he began to chomp like a beaver.

After that, his overbite went back to normal as we all laughed softly.  I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“Why do I keep coming to your guys?”

“It’s because you like us.” Teased Freddie as he pointed his finger at my nose.

“I don’t. I love you guys.” His smile turned soft and that’s when Roger said.

“Look, here it comes.” We both turned around and low and behold the sun was slowly starting to rise.  The first light came into the sky, and the sparrows began to stir and the stars began to fade.  Wow, theirs is nothing that beats a countryside sunrise and sunset.

“So—apart from the dreams, how have you been (Y/n)?” Freddie asked me.  I grew solemn and I said.

“Nana’s—been feeling under the weather lately. Both physically and mentally.” Right at around New Year’s, we had a scare when we got a call from the hospital saying that Nana had taken a bad fall.  

Fearing for her safety, dad had her move into the home with us and since I’m still on holiday break, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.

“My friends still won’t talk to me since that night on Halloween.” Its true.  In fact they’ve avoided me at all cost.  I’ve heard them say that I’ve been possessed by the ghosts themselves every time they see me.  So basically I’ve been kicked out of the group. “And then my dad still won’t give me the time of day anymore.” I grumbled hatefully.

“Still? But didn’t you go on that lovely little Christmas trip with him and your nana?” Freddie asked.

“Yeah for like an hour till the office called him telling him the pitch meeting couldn’t wait.”

“Typical fathers. Always thinking that work is more important than family.” Roger hmphed.  I scoffed softly. Tell me about it.

“So this is where you took her.” It was then floating right above us was grandda—I mean John.  Granddad? Can I even call him that even in my head? It’s still wild to even think about.

“Good morning Deacy darling!” Freddie praised.  John—grandad crossed his arms over his chest as he gave Freddie and Rog the stink eye that my nana always gave me when I misbehaved (now I know where she got it from).

“C’mon John it’s the mid-winter sunrise and I thought (Y/n) might like to see it.” Roger said.

“You do realize she could freeze up here. She’s not like us Rog, she’s human!”

“I’m fine De—AHH-CHOO!” I sneezed out.

“See? She’s already catching her death already. Couldn’t you two have allowed her to see the sunrise from inside the home, or at least not up on top of the barn where it’s the most coldest?” he said as he came up to me and touched my shoulders.

I’ve also noticed that it’s really only been my granddad’s touch that I can actually feel.  When it comes to the other guys, they go right through me.

“C’mon (Y/n), let’s get you back inside and I’ll fix you up a warm cuppa.” He took my hand and we both phased back through the barn. He then wrapped an arm around me and together we flew back towards the house.

Back in the living quarter’s I was sitting on the couch with two sets of blankets wrapped around me, the fireplace going off, and soon John had my cuppa float right towards me.

“Thanks John.”

“Are you sure you’re warm enough? As soon as we came in you were shivering like a leaf.” God that’s such an old saying.  But I guess that is something that only my grandfather would say.

“I’m fine, really. Thanks John.”

“You really should’ve bundled up more before you went outside with Roger. The countryside gets colder than it does in the city. Especially since this place isn’t as updated as it would be today when it comes to heating.”

“I know. I thought I’d be fine with just my jumper but I guess I misjudged it.”

“More like underestimated it.” He teased.  I took a sip of my cuppa and hummed softly. “Is it done right?”

“Just how I like it.”

“That’s good. I was thankful to actually get that old coffee machine working again. That thing hadn’t been used in decades.”

“Now was that story Brian once told me about Roger wanting to smash that thing true?”

“Oh god don’t even get me started on that. I can’t believe he actually remembers that.” He groaned which made me laugh.

“That’s only because you guys refused to think my song was good enough for the album!” Roger’s voice exclaimed.  Soon both he, Freddie and even Brian came through the walls and Brian said.

“Please tell me he’s not going off about it again. I swear Roger if I have to hear about your song one more time I’m gonna find a way to exorcise you.” Granddad and I looked at each other as he and Rog proceeded to argue and the two of us rolled our eyes.

“Be a dear for me (Y/n). If you ever find my body, please get some scissors and stab me in the ears.” Granddad whispered to me.  I reached out and gently patted his shoulder.

Man he wasn’t kidding about the fact when their fights get crazy. I could only imagine how they were when they were alive and could actually hurt each other.  But it still amazes me that even through their arguments and fights, they still come together and make such beautiful music.

I felt granddad touch my shoulder and the next thing I knew, we silently phased through the couch, down the floor until we arrived in his room.  He released my hand which made me go back to being solid again and he said as he hovered over to his bed.

“Figured you’d be safe here. I’d say in the next—ten seconds Roger’s going to go all poltergeist and start throwing things about.” And low and behold, I heard a very loud crashing and the sounds of Brian, Fred’s and Roger’s screaming at each other.  I cringed at the loudness of the banging and their yelling.  It was like hearing three banshees screaming in my ear.

Then with a snap of a finger, all went quiet.  I turned to granddad and saw that his left hand was slightly raised and his fingers were in a snap position.

“Took me over 20 years to figure it out but, now this room shall remain soundproof till they cease their petty arguments.” I smiled and said.

“God I wish I could do that.” He chuckled softly as he sat down on his bed.

“It’s definitely a gift worth having.” I then noticed how his face grew solemn. “Plus I—I need the silence.”

“Why’s that?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

“It’s nothing you need to worry yourself over (Y/n) dear. I wouldn’t want to bore you with the story.”

“No please. If you’re—willing to share with me, I’ll lend an ear. Believe me you’ve listened to plenty of my teenage drama.” His famed gapped-tooth smile came on display as he softly chuckled again.

“It’s not drama, it’s life. Everyone goes through it, even I did when I was your age. God I really do sound like an old man don’t I?”

“And yet you’re hardly pass the age of 24.” I said as I sat down beside him. “Come on tell me. Please.” I placed my hand over his and gave him my best puppy dog face.  He looked down at me before smiling softly and said.

“Alright you little puppy.” He patted my head before raising his hand and an old suitcase soon floated towards us.  It opened up and soon a photograph soon came out of it. He sent the suitcase back to the corner and held the picture in his hands.

It was a picture of my nana.  She was outside underneath a cherry blossom tree in what looked like a park.  She was beautiful with her long flowing brown hair, her belly showing signs of her pregnant with my father (probably around 3-4 months).  She wore a pretty purple dress and in her hair were 2 flowers.

“Today’s……well…..today would’ve been our 45th wedding Anniversary.” He said solemnly.  Oh shit that’s right. Nana’s been dreading this day in secret.  She hides it from my dad awfully well but I’ve heard her cry at night, crying out granddad’s name in her sleep whenever it was just the two of us at the house.  “I think that……that’s probably why I’ve still remained here on Earth, and never got the chance to move on.”

“How do you mean?” He continued to look down at the picture of nana.  His long, ghostly black fingers stroking along the picture, especially once the tips of his fingers touched her face which held a beautiful smile.

“Unlike the lads whose memories have been slowly fading away of their previous life when we were human. I—I always found myself thinking of my love, my wife, my best friend. And every now and then……memories would come back to me.”

“What kind of memories?” I asked as I held onto the sleeve of his shirt.  I looked up at him like a solemn child wanting to hear the story of their dead relative.

“Just—the small things. The sounds of her attempting to make breakfast. Poor Ronnie could never really cook well without at least trying to burn the flat down.” He chuckled the last part out which made me softly laugh. “The way she would put on her lipstick. So carefully.”

He looked up and he had this look of—wonderment. Wistfulness. His voice even whispered wistfully as he reminisced about him and nana.  A smile soon spread across his face as he continued to speak with admiration and love.

“I do remember that she always used lavender lotion. And when we’d embrace, I would pull her in. And breathe her in. So deeply. Then at night before we would go to sleep, she’d cuddle close to me and we’d whisper to one another with her first starting off, ‘I will love you forever; whatever happens. Until I die and after I die,’ then I would finish whispering in hers, ‘and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, until I find you again’. Guess that saying became our reality.”

That’s what Nana always said to me when I was a little girl during the thunderstorms to calm me down.  She would always say that very line and then she taught me the second part.  Never did I imagine that I was saying granddad’s line back to her.

He stood up from the bed, his back facing me as he stood before the wall.

“But that was a long, long time ago. She’s—probably forgotten all about me. Moved on, probably had more kids with another man. Probably for the best.” God my heart was literally breaking at hearing this.

“I don’t think she did. I believe she couldn’t forget about you. I’m…..sure she felt the same way about you. And……couldn’t find it in herself to love another man as much as she loved you.” I said to him solemnly.

“Then I’ve caused her nothing but heartbreak and pain. She deserved to move on from me after my death. If she—if she has cling to the past, then……” he trailed off and I saw ghostly tears fall down his face.

I got up from the bed and slowly approached him.  I stood at his side for a moment before reaching out and taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  He turned to me, his heartbroken face made me want to cry and just hug him.

Why did this have to happen to my family? To Queen’s family? Whoever or whatever happened on that fateful day deserves to burn in Hell because they took everything from these boys, from my nana, my father and me.

I embraced him and held onto him as tight as I could.  I felt granddad crumble in my arms as he wept into my shoulder.  My sleep shirt getting drenched with his tears, but it was worth it.

After standing there holding each other for a while, I wiped away his ghostly tears which floated into the air as soon as I wiped them off his face.

“Deacy, look there’s……there’s something I gotta tell you.” he separated from me.  His eyes went from heartbroken to concern in the snap of a finger.

“What is it are you okay?” God ever concerning for his loved ones safety.  Even when he not even five seconds ago had a mental breakdown.  He was willing to put his own feelings aside to ask if I was alright.

“I’m fine. I…….” this was it. I have to tell him.  I don’t know what the repercussions would be like, hell I may cause him to bring this entire farm to the ground, but I have to get this off my chest. “Deacy I’m……”

“Oi (Y/n)! Your cellphone’s been blaring off frantically and none of us know how to answer it.” Roger’s voice spoke up.  We looked up and there he had his head peaking through the roof of granddad’s room.

“You couldn’t have learned to knock first!?” Granddad snapped.

“Please I know about your sound proof ability in this room. Even if I tried you’d still never hear me. Now please (Y/n) go see who it was. If I have to hear that bell alarm one more time I’ll bring this whole farm to the ground.”

“Okay Rog I’ll be up there in a sec.” his head soon vanished back through the roof and I looked up to granddad and he said.

“Go on.” I walked up the stairs and headed towards Roger’s room where I grabbed my phone and saw that I had 2 missed calls from Nana, 12 unread texts from dad’s cell and 13 missed calls from dad’s cell.

“Shit.” I unlocked my phone and went to dad’s cell first just to let him have it with me.  After just one ring his frantic voice exclaimed out.

‘WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?! DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED SICK I WAS!!’

“Dad I’m sorry. I meant to tell you I was going out of town but I forgot.”

‘Out of town? Out of town!? (Y/n) (m/n) Deacon you’ve been going out of town for the past 3 months and you’ve never once told me or your nana where exactly ‘out of town’ is. This is starting to become a problem.’

“But dad…..”

‘No buts! From now on I want to know where you are at all times, and all destinations are to be approved by me!’

“What?! That’s not fair!!”

‘Unfair?! You wanna know what unfair is!? Having your nana crying all day because of…….’ He trailed off. ‘Anyways she needed you. What would’ve happened to her if you weren’t there because you were ‘out of town’. Now I’ve got to get back to work but when I get home, I expect you there and then we’ll further discuss your punishment.’ And with that he hung up.  I growled and tossed my phone onto the bed before plopping down against it.

“Was it him again?” I looked up and there was granddad right at the door.

“You heard that?”

“Darling I think everyone from Pembroke heard.” He joked. I collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh and said.

“I don’t get why he’s so overprotective.”

“He’s your father. And he loves you.” he said as he came up to me.  I turned on my side and huffed.

“I doubt that.”

“Why would you say something like that?” he asked me.  I sighed heavily and said.

“Ever since mum left us when I was 12 for her new boy toy, dad’s thrown himself into his work. He’s never actually confronted the problem. He just buries himself into his work. There have been times where I needed him and he was never there. It was like I was invisible to him. And now all of a sudden he’s starting to care about me after practically ignoring me for most of my teen years! If I’m being honest…..I think he stopped caring about me a long time ago.” my voice cracked at the last statement.

I harshly wiped my tears away refusing to cry in front of him.  That’s when I felt his fingers gently grasp my chin and he turned my head to face him.

“Now you don’t mean that.”

“I do. I hate myself for thinking such a thing but it’s true.”

“A father never stops caring for their child. Sure he may pile on the work or can be strict but that’s because he can’t risk to lose you like he lost your mother. Being a parent—it’s the most frightening job in the world that not a lot of people can handle. But I would gladly like to have that chance of having that job. To have been there for my son if I had the chance. To love him, to care for him, to show him that dad’s aren’t just the type of walk away to the store or leave to record an album and never come back.”

He wiped my tears as he cupped underneath my jawline and we both looked into each other’s eyes.

“So never doubt your father doesn’t love you. Okay?” I nodded and said.

“I should get home then.” He smiled softly and nodded in agreement.

“Promise you’ll reach out to either Freddie or Brian when you reach home.”

“I promise. Tell the guys I said bye.”

“Will do poppet. Until next time.” He gave me a kiss to my forehead and I walked out of the house towards my car and drove all the way back to London.

On the drive back just a few miles out of Bristol, I stopped at a gas station to get me some breakfast.  When I picked me up some sweets I walked back to my car and started it up before finally pulling out of the gas station and continued down the road.

While driving on a stretch of wide open roads with fields and nothing but cattle, suddenly out of nowhere I saw a man frantically waving his arms back and forth. 

He looked like he had just came out of a pub fight, his clothes almost torn to shreds, his face all bloodied up, and he was even limping and might’ve had a broken shoulder with the way his left arm was dangling.

Something in my didn’t sit right and as much as I would’ve said I kept driving, I’d be lying.  I slowed down and rolled my window down and he came up to me and said.

“Oh bless you lass. I’ve been walking for miles with no one in sight.” American accent must be a tourist or something.

“Are you alright sir?” I asked him.

“I’ve had better days. Listen my car broke down several miles West. I’ve been traveling all night and couldn’t see a damn thing. Can you please give me a lift to the closest repair shop?”

“Uhh……”

“Please I know I’m asking a lot and this must seem like a creepy situation.” I’ve had creepier experiences, I mean I’m friends with the ghost’s of Queen. “I promise, all I need is a ride and I promise you’ll never see me again. I need to check in on my wife and daughter. They’re probably worried sick back at our cabin.”

“Alright. Get in.”

“Oh thank you so much. Thank you, thank you thank you.” he opened up my passenger door and sat down before closing it.  “I’ve tried to get a signal for hours but there’s hardly anything out here.” He joked.

“Yeah the selected country parts of the UK can have some pretty crappy service. Once we reach close to Bristol it should work. But I’m gonna have to briefly turn around just to get us there.”

“Do whatever you’ve got to do. You’re very kind to do this for a complete stranger. Your parents must be very proud of you.” my hands gripped the wheel tighter and I said.

“Yeah. Yeah they are.” I turned my car around and drove back to where I saw the Bristol exit. “So……how exactly did your car break down?”

“I don’t know it just started sputtering and the next thing I knew….” He blew out a raspberry. Suddenly my head started to pound like a drum.  I groaned as I rubbed my forehead trying to rid of the pain. “You okay?” he asked me.

“I—I don’t know I…..I need to pull over, right now.” I put my hazard lights up and pulled to the side of the dirt road.  I put my car in park and leaned forward.  God what the hell was going on? It’s like Roger was using my head as his personal drumkit. “Damnit what is wrong with me?”

“Perhaps you just need a bit of rest?” suddenly I felt something cover my mouth and nose.  Panic aroused from me as I tried to fight back but the man quickly grabbed hold of me and pressed the rag or sponge whatever it was harder against my nose.

Shit I should never have let this guy into my car! I watch crime shows for this very reason! I’m such a dumbass.  All I kept doing was trying to send a telepathic signal to Freddie hoping he would see what was happening but soon enough my fighting spirit ceased as my eyes soon closed and I was knocked out.

*John’s POV*

As the day went by finally the lads ceased their infernal argument and we were in the studio trying to see if we could finish up a new song that Freddie had written for (Y/n).  All the awhile I kept having this very bad feeling that something happened to her, something very bad.

“Deacy? Oi Deacon!” I snapped out of my daze that’s when Brian said.

“Geez you looked even more spaced out than you normally are.” I glared at him.

“I’m just—thinking about (Y/n).”

“Oooo, is our little Deacon in love with a new woman?”

“What?! Eww no you filthy mongrel. It’s…..Fred are you sure you haven’t heard anything from her?” I asked Freddie worriedly.

“Not yet my darling. But you know it’s a long drive between here and London. Maybe she’s still driving. You worry too much darling, she’ll be…..” suddenly he lurched forward almost as if in pain.

We all looked at him fearfully as his face contorted to absolute fear before he flung himself back against the chair.  His arms reaching upward like he was holding something, all the while struggling and grunting in a panic-like seizure.

We all gathered around him calling out his name before finally he lay there limp, his eyes closed and his face relaxed.  I turned towards Roger and Brian and they were just as confused and frightened as I was.

“Fred? Freddie. C’mon mate wake up.” Roger shook him. Suddenly Freddie’s eyes opened and he gasped out.

“It was horrible……the worst fear I’ve ever felt.” His breathing was shaky and his eyes frantically searched around the studio.

“What Fred? What did you see?” Brian asked.  It was then Freddie turned to me and he said regretfully.

“I’m sorry John. I’m really, really sorry. But you were right.” No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no it—it can’t be!

“What Fred don’t leave us hanging!”

“It was (Y/n) dears. She sent me a message. Someone’s kidnapping her.” At that point, had we’d been alive, our hearts would’ve sunk in fear.

“Who!? Who was it!?” Roger demanded as his drumkit got knocked over by the rage he felt.

“Calm down Rog! We’ll figure this out.” Brian assured him before turning back to Freddie. “Now Fred could you see anything? Like who it was? Or where she was at?”

“I just remember……fear. And muffled screaming.” Freddie sobbed as he gripped the side of his head.

“Okay, okay. Concentrate. The smallest detail will help us figure out who it could be.” Brian assured him.

“I couldn’t see him. But I felt her being pinned up……against someone’s chest. And…..it looked like she was in her-her car maybe? And…..” at this point his voice grew off into a haze as he tried to recall everything he saw through their telepathic message. “It smelled weird like—I don’t know I wish I could remember more!” Freddie leaned forward and wept.

Roger and Brian embraced him, rubbing his back gently shushing him.  At this point I couldn’t handle being in the studio anymore.  Somehow I ended back in my room, anger boiled inside me along with fear and heartbreak.  I then threw my head back and just let out the most agonizing scream I could.

If any mortal were to see, they would’ve seen all the windows shatter from every building Rockfield farm studios had.

*My POV*

When I came around I saw nothing but candlelight dancing through a dark room.  I groaned tiredly as my head was still slightly pounding but not as much as it was earlier.  When my vision finally started to become clear, that’s when I saw some familiar drawings surrounding me.

All the Satanic markings, ancient drawings, hell the room itself was familiar.  I was in the very room where I’ve been at in my dreams.

“I tried to warn you love. You’re meddling in things you shouldn’t be meddling in.” wait that accent.  I slowly raised myself up from the floor and soon coming into light from the fireplace was him.

The man from my dreams.

“It’s you.”

“Yes it’s me. Your personal boogieman. Look since you wouldn’t listen to reason through your dreams, you forced me to take drastic measures.” He said.  Wow this guy was really charming.

“You know an email or a threatening phone call would’ve sufficed.” I sassed at him.

“True but then you’d still probably go back to that farm. Am I right?”

“You don’t know me!”

“Oh on the contrary love, I know everything about you. (Y/n) Deacon, daughter to Robert and Sharleen Deacon who are divorced now right?” I glared at him. “Granddaughter to one Veronica Tetzlaff and John Richard Deacon. The bass player of the former band Queen. And you—little missy were just about to tell your granddad of who you really are.”

“So what if I was? You don’t know how lonely he is. If he knew that my nana still loved him and has told both my father and me about him…..”

“It could end the world.” I looked at him confused.  He sighed heavily shaking his head disapprovingly. “I hate involving normal people into my line of business, but you’ve left me no other choice.”

“Just who exactly are you?”

“The name’s John Constantine. My family’s been cursed with being the fine line between this world and the afterlife. It’s my job to ensure that no demonic or spiritual presence tries to threaten our world. And to ensure no dumb teenagers go poking their noses in forces far beyond their reach.”

“If you’re referring to the first time I went to the farm, it wasn’t my idea.”

“But it was your idea to keep going there. Meeting the ghosts of Queen. And for that, you’re causing a shift in the balance.”

“So what now? You going to kill me?” I threatened.

“No. See I can’t kill another human being without probable cause. That and since you’re a kid with a family, I’d rather not be interrogated by the police. And I wouldn’t want your dear ol granddad to haunt my arse for the rest of my days. I get enough of that already.” He walked over and grabbed something off the table and he continued, “This is your last warning love. Stay. Away. From Rockfield farm.”

“The boys will know something’s up if I suddenly stop coming around.”

“Which is why I’m going to put them out of their misery and send their souls to the great beyond. They’ll no longer be stranded here, they can freely go up to heaven, blah, blah, blah heavenly stuff you know all that.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Better me than something else. And trust me, there are far worse things than people like me that want a snag at a few stray ghosts.”

“And what if I refuse to do as you say?”

“Man you are a stubborn girl.” He muttered impatiently.

“Call it a family trait. What’s so dangerous for me to stay away from Rockfield Farm?” he groaned and said.

“I really didn’t want to admit this but I guess I’m gonna have to dumb it down for you.” God this guy was a real arsehole. “Unlike the other three members, your grandfather still holds onto the memories of his human life. And when a ghost does that, it makes them dangerous. Extremely. Dangerous.”

“You don’t know my granddad. He couldn’t hurt a fly much less hurt me.”

“Really?” he asked more skeptically than questioningly. I nodded proudly. “Then answer me this then love,” he walked up to me and leaned down close to my face. “If you do tell him who you really are to him, that makes him even more bound to you. Then say the next time someone, be it mortal or even demon even hurts you. His bound to you would become unstable. When ghosts become unstable, they lose any sense of humanity. And when they lost their humanity, they’re nothing but shells of endless wails and overpowering abilities. He could bring down an entire city if he wanted to just to get back at whoever hurt you. And that becomes messy for me to clean up.”

“Glad to know this is more about you not wanting to clean up a bit of mess.” I sneered.

“Not when the mess is millions of dead bodies who were nothing but collateral damage. Trust me love when I say that your granddad is bad news already being a ghost with memories. And here’s something else if you don’t believe me.” He pulled out his phone with a news media post that read.

EARTHQUAKE SHAKES MONMOUTH!

What felt like a 5.5 earthquake shook the entire community of Monmouth Wales. Out of nowhere the grounds began to shake and some witnesses have claimed that it was sourced at the old Rockfield farm studios where witnesses have also claimed to see windows exploding.

“I know you must’ve sent some sort of message to them when I grabbed you.”

“Wait that was you? But….the guy that grabbed me had black hair.”

“Simple transfiguration spell love. I thought kids your age watched Harry Potter?” I glared at him. “Now I want your solemn promise, you will not. Go. To Rockfield farm anymore.” I looked down and I said.

“I can’t just suddenly ghost them. No pun intended. Let me go back and say my final goodbyes to them.”

“I can’t even let you do that poppet. It’s either you stop going, or put your family in grave danger because of your selfishness.”

What do I do? What do I do? If I suddenly stop going to the farm, the guys will feel like I’ve abandoned them.  And Granddad he……he’ll be heartbroken the most.

“Well…..your answer?” he asked impatiently.

“Fine. I’ll do as you say.”

“That’s a good girl. Now then, I want you to wear this from now on until I can finish my job.” He held out a long silver chained necklace with a vile attached to it.

“Please tell me there’s no blood in that thing.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s salt. Ghosts can’t get through a salt circle, nor can they get out of one. So long as you wear this, they can’t reach out to you telepathically.” He placed the necklace around my neck. “Oh and love, it’s best we keep this interaction a secret. Probably best to not let nana or daddy know of this.” He gave me a nod before suddenly placing the same cloth over my face and once again I was knocked out.

The last thing I heard him say was his warning.

“Now keep away for your family’s sake.”

When I awoke, I found myself in my own bedroom.  I was in my bed and pressed to my forehead was a warm rag.  I heard footsteps coming towards me and coming into my room was my nana.

“Oh (Y/n) you’re awake!” she quickly came up to me and cupped the side of my face frantically looking over me.

“Yeah uhh nana. I—I know this’ll sound strange but—how did I get here?”

“Don’t you remember? You drove all the way here but passed out as soon as you got to the door. You were freezing cold to the touch. I was so worried that you’d……” she pressed her hand over her mouth and I saw tears form in her eyes.

“Oh nana I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I worried you.” I hugged her and nuzzled her shoulder.  She wrapped her arms around me and she sniffled.

“It’s okay love. I just…..I just couldn’t bear it if I had to lose you too.” I looked down, my eyes shining with regret.

Maybe that Constantine guy was right.  Nana Ronnie loved me and dad so much, I could never live with myself if I got all of us hurt.  Maybe it is best if I just—forget about the guys.

I guess—in a way I’m glad I didn’t tell granddad the truth yet, cause if I stopped going there had I told him, he would never let me or the world forget it.

It's gonna be hard to just forget the guys but I have to. For Nana’s sake.

So as punishment from my ad, he grounded me for a month and basically put me on house arrest. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unless it was to school and home.  Any other places that I needed to go to like the library, had to be approved by the boss man himself.

Constantine also was a constant pop up in my life.  This time he took my advice and actually managed to figure out my phone number and has been sending me text messages every other week or so.  He’d inform me that right now the grounds were too icy to travel to the farm so he’d have to wait till spring to perform the exorcism.

Of course I couldn’t find it in myself to respond back to him telling him it was fine.  I just deleted the messages and try to live on my life.  Now I won’t deny I’ve missed the guys, especially granddad.  For the first time in my life, I got to know more about my family than I ever had in years.  Only for it to be taken away from me because some threat that Constantine won’t really tell me about.

I know there’s gotta be more than just my granddad’s potential of becoming a ‘bad ghost’.  But I don’t know what.

Another couple months passed and finally it was springtime in England.  The cherry trees were in full bloom, the weather was now more cooler, and the typical spring showers washed away any remaining snow that was left.

I was currently at school and today we were doing the mile and a half run for PE (UGGGGHHHH!!!) I don’t even know why we have to do this run? It’s just a way for people to show off on who’s got the fastest timing just so they can get up on the leader boards in the locker room.

And of course with no friends in PE, the runs get VERY boring so I was left alone to run by myself.  That’s when I noticed something odd.  A crow kept trailing beside me, cawing every now and then.  At first I paid no mind to it (after all we get crows all the time).

But when I noticed that it was starting to swoop down closer and closer to me and literally following me no matter which way I swerved or even ran back, that’s when I got scared.  Thinking I could outrun it, I ran past any remaining students that still hadn’t completed the mile and a half run.  

The crow still right on my trail as it cawed and swooped down closer and closer to me.  I turned around and that’s when I was shocked to see it’s black eyes suddenly turn pure white.  Oh shit now it all makes sense, it was—suddenly the crow landed right on top of me and it was almost like my body just shut down as I collapsed right there on the ground.

Next thing I knew, I was in this empty blackness.  There wasn’t anything in sight and it was dead silent. No birds, no chattering peers, no crow, nothing.  Until……

‘(Y/n).’ I gasped at the familiar voice.

“D-Deacy?”

‘Do you know how worried we all have been for you? You’ve stopped coming to the farm. What has happened!?’ his worried tone made my heart clench.

“I’m sorry Deacy I……dad grounded me and then school got busy and……”

‘LIES!!!!’ sudden a harsh wind blew right in my face. It was like standing right next to a tornado or a hurricane with how hard this sudden wind gust was blowing right at me.  I would’ve been knocked over if it hadn’t suddenly stopped.

When I opened my eyes and put my arms down from my face there right in front of me was granddad. His eyes full of heartbreak and betrayal.

‘The last thing you ever sent to Freddie was your kidnapping. Who was it? Are they threatening you!?’ oh god don’t let him get mad don’t let him get mad.

“No. I—Like I told you Deacy life just became busy. And the roads got too dangerous for me to travel on.”

‘That didn’t stop you before. How come none of us could reach out to you? It was like you dropped off the face of the Earth!’

“I don’t know Deacy I just…..”

‘What?! Hmm?’ I sighed heavily and turned away from him.

“I can’t tell you.”

‘Can’t tell me. Tell me what?’

“It’s too dangerous Deacy I can’t tell you.”

‘What? What is so dangerous that you can’t tell me? Unless it’s the fact that you no longer like us and think we’re nothing but a bunch of washed up has-beens. A waste of your time!’

“No John Deacon it’s not like that at all and you know it!”

‘Then what!? WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF!?’

“I’M YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER!!” I gasped and covered my mouth. His expression went from anger to shock.

‘Wha—what did you…..say?’ I sighed heavily and said.

“Your wife, Veronica Tetzlaff. Her—your son Robert is my father. Which makes me her granddaughter. Your granddaughter.” His face still held that stoic but shocked expression.  He backed away from me and looked like he was trying to form words.

‘How long have you known?’ he asked me after a long bit of silence.

“After meeting you guys.” He exhaled sharply and rubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry John I—I didn’t want it to be like this. I was gonna tell you back at the farm but then Roger he……”

‘Stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.’ He turned fully away from me.  His shoulders rising and falling rapidly as his breathing got deeper.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry granddad!” suddenly a flash of light blinded me and the next thing I knew I was hearing concerned mutters around me and my instructor Mrs. Hood say.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) Deacon can you hear me?” I let out a gasp and sobbing out.

“I’m sorry granddad. I’m so sorry.” I then just curled up and wept hysterically.

After that I was sent home early and Nana was my personal nurse. She asked me what exactly happened but I refused to answer her.  I just kept silent throughout the rest of the day.  Of course not wanting to push me, Nana left me alone for awhile and told me that dinner would soon be ready.

Right as soon as she left, my phone made it’s text tone. I reached out for it and it read out.

COME TO HYDE PARK IMMEDIATELY. NO EXCEPTIONS!

Constantine.  I looked out towards my window and saw the branch that always hung right beside it. I knew I’d never make it pass Nana by going through the front or back door, so my best bet was taking the window. I ran up to it and opened it up and looked back to make sure that she wasn’t coming back up.

Then as carefully as I could, I got onto the branch of the tree and crawled to where the branch was the sturdiest.  I looked down and it didn’t seem like that much of a high jump.  So I held onto the branch and dangled there for a brief moment before exhaling out.

“Okay. One….two…..three.” I let go and landed on the ground before quickly racing towards the shed to grab my bike.  Once I had it, I pedaled to the park.

When I got to the park, I stopped right by the lake and stood underneath the lamp post.  It was maybe a minute later when the light suddenly started to flicker before going off. Soon the rest of the lights began to flicker before they too went off.

“You didn’t listen to me at all, did you love?” I turned and there coming right up behind me was John Constantine. “One thing. I ask one thing of you and you couldn’t even do that. Why didn’t you keep that salt necklace on like I told you?”

“It’s not like I had any choice. My PE teacher saw it and she forced me to take it off while we did our mile and a half run. She even pocketed it in her own pockets and refused to give it back till I finished the run. That’s when……”

“Brian possessed that blasted crow just so your granddad could talk to you. And then you go off and tell him the truth, didn’t you?”

“Again not my choice. He forced it out of me. I didn’t want him to think I had just abandoned them. Forgotten them! You know my life was perfect till you came along and had to fuck it all up!” I snapped at him.

“Oh believe me love, if you think I’m fucked up. Then you’re really not gonna be happy about what else is coming. Because of your reckless confession, now he’ll be after you.”

“If you mean my granddad that’s fine! At least now he knows his family hasn’t abandoned him!”

“I wasn’t referring to him.” He said grimly.  Wait what? What was he meaning?

“Then what—”

“I’ll explain later. For now because of your big mouth, I’m gonna need to take you somewhere safe. Follow me.” He turned around and walked onward.  I stayed in my spot thinking what could he be talking about? “Oi love stop your gawking and let’s get a move on! You’re exposed out here so let’s go!”

I followed behind him taking my bike with me as I kept thinking just what exactly could he be mean by Him.  If it wasn’t my granddad I needed to worry about, then who?

*3rd Person POV*

Veronica was just finishing setting up the table for supper. She took her spinach casserole out of the oven and set it on the table and called up to (Y/n).

“(Y/n) dear. Dinner time!” when she didn’t get a response she looked up from the table and took off her oven mits. “(Y/n)?” she walked up the stairs.  Unaware that a hand print came visible along the kitchen window.

Veronica came to (Y/n)’s room and when she looked inside and didn’t see her granddaughter there, she began to panic.

“(Y/n)? Where are you?” she looked in her closet hoping to find her hiding in there. “Don’t play around now love nana’s getting scared!” she quickly ran towards her son’s room to see if she had gone in there.  She looked and looked but there was no sign of her granddaughter anywhere.  “I love you so much don’t do this! (Y/n)!”

She came back downstairs and suddenly noticed that the house had grown colder.  She thought maybe it had to do with the thermostat so grabbing her glasses she went over to the thing but saw that it was still at the normal temp. that her son always kept it on.

So……why was it growing colder and colder with each second?

As she could see her breath visibly come out with each exhale, a haunting, whispery like moan echoed through the house.  Then she heard her name being called out.

“Veronica.” Panicked Veronica quickly went back up the stairs towards her room and quickly shut the door and locked it.  She huddled against the corner of her room holding her Catholic cross necklace as she proceeded to plead the Lord’s prayer.  

All the while her door suddenly started to frost over and started to bang and rattle, like someone was trying to break into her room.

“Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from……” as she continued with the Lord’s prayer only to have her door suddenly come down. And floating right there, she let out a horrified scream as she saw standing right before her very eyes.

The ghost of her dead husband.  Beneath him a trail of black blood followed him as she slowly walked towards her extending his arm out to her.  Groaning and moaning her name with agony.

Terrified Veronica let out a horrified scream as she tried to pray to God for protection.

“DELIVER US!” she cried out.

“Veronica……” She continued to scream in terror as she clenched her hand over her heart. “Help…..me…..” John pleaded as his mouth dropped in a haunting manner as Veronica finished.

“FROM….EVIL!!!” As she leaned her head against the wall all she could do was gasp and cry out in fear.

Coming in from another long shift at work, Robert came into the house and felt the coldness of it.  But what frightened him was the fact he could hear his mother’s panicked screams from upstairs.  He immediately dropped his stuff and raced up the stairs exclaiming.

“MUM!! MUM I’M COMING!!! HOLD ON!!” When he finally came into her room, the only thing he saw was his mum leaning against the corner, her face contorted into fear, tear stains on her face and she was clenching her heart in fear. “Mum! Mum are you okay what happened?”

She couldn’t speak.  All that came out of her were gasps and whimpers of fear.  Fearing she was having a heart attack, Robert phoned the ambulance.  

Within minutes, they loaded her up and quickly took her to the hospital with Robert holding her hand trying to comfort his mum who was still in hysterics.  He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed his daughter’s number.

*My POV*

Constantine had taken me to a safe house (to me it looked more like a bunker).  All around there were books about spells, demons, every creature imaginable.  Dusty tables with ingredients that you would find only in a voodoo shop.

“What is this place?”

“My own personal safe house. You were here before. Just down in the basement. Here no ghosts or demons can even get a mile from this place. Now then, let’s start off with—” my phone suddenly rang and he glared at me.

“Sorry it’s not like this is a movie theater.” I took my phone out and saw that it was my dad. Oh bugger! I internally groaned as I slid the answer button and I said slowly.

“Hey dad.”

‘First I’m not even gonna ask where you are. All I want you to do right now is get to London hospital as fast as you can.’

“What? What do you mean dad is everything okay?” before he could answer, I heard Nana Ronnie’s panicked voice gasp out.

‘My John! My John was a horrifying black-eyed demon!’ my eyes grew wide.

‘Just get to the hospital and I’ll meet you in the lobby. Your……Your nana’s had an accident.’ I was frozen in my spot.

“It can’t be.” I whispered.

‘(Y/n)? Did you hear what I said?’

“Yeah. Yeah dad I’ll be there soon.” I hung up the phone and Constantine looked at me with sympathy in his eyes. “Nana saw granddad. He scared her so badly that she’s on her way to the hospital.” He rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry love. I really am.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Well…….” I glared up at him telling him to not bullshit me.

“Don’t suddenly change your statement now. You’ve told me that something like this could happen. I should never have gone up to that farm in the first place. If I hadn’t nana wouldn’t be dying.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! You should’ve heard her Constantine. She—she sounds like she could die from shock.”

“I hate to bring this up now love but—you do know what has to be done now right?” tears slipped down my face and I asked him.

“Promise me that they won’t suffer.”

“Passing on for a ghost is like going to sleep for us. I promise they won’t feel a thing. I’ll have a cabbie take you to the hospital to see your Nan and father. And hey,” he came up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, “You’re doing the right thing. The spirits of Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon don’t belong here on Earth anymore. They’ve suffered enough being restless spirits. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

He then left the bunker without another word.  Just like he promised within 10 minutes a cab was waiting for me outside and the cabbie drove me to the hospital.

Once I got there, I saw my dad sitting anxiously on one of the chairs in the waiting room.  When he saw me, he came up to me and I looked up at him with eyes full of tears.  We didn’t say a word till I suddenly embraced him and I wept into his chest, pleading for forgiveness.

My dad wrapped his arms around me and stroked down my hair trying to comfort me.  Together the two of us sat there and waited until a doctor would come and tell us nana’s update.

*3rd Person POV*

As the night grew darker, John Constantine arrived at Rockfield farm studios to finally put an end to the restless spirits of Queen.

“Alright, first to send these guys onward. Then focus on the real threat.” He grabbed some essence candles, a container of salt, his lighter, and an old iron candelabra shaft. He walked towards the barn with his bag of ghost equipment and he said as he stood right out the house. “Time to finally have some fun.”

He walked up the steps of the porch and opened up the wooden door of the living quarters.  As it opened, it made its famed creaking sound and Constantine slowly walked inside.

“Alright where are you yah hard rocker ghosts?” he muttered.

‘You want us John Constantine? You’ve got us!’ soon a swarm of starlings suddenly flew out from the fireplace and burst through the windows. Frantically making their chirps and calls as they swarmed practically the entire house.  Knocking over every antiques scattered throughout the house, damaging the curtains, and most of all trying to get a stir out of Constantine.

Constantine swatted the birds away with the candelabra shaft but it didn’t deter them away. Then as quick as they came, they soon vanished and the only thing standing there was him and Brian May’s ghost.

“I should’ve known you were the one behind the animal’s odd behaviors. I forget you also had an interest in animals, right?” Brian’s snide smile was cold as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Call it a side hobby. And I don’t control them. I share their vision to see beyond the reaches of the farm.” Constantine nodded snidely and sarcastically stated.

“How sweet of you.”

“Now tell us this,” Roger’s voice soon spoke up.  Roger came out from the raging fireplace and continued, “How is it that when our sweet, loving (Y/n) suddenly stops coming around, it’s your ugly mug that we have to keep seeing snooping about the farm grounds?”

“And more importantly, what did you do with our beloved darling?!” Freddie’s voice snarled as he came up behind Constantine.

“Look gents if you really think I harmed her in any way you’re poorly mistaken. I just gave her some strict warnings to stay away from here less her and her family be in danger. Now enough gab, and let’s get down to work.”

“What kind of trouble?” Deacy’s voice soon spoke up.  Coming out from the shadows was John Deacon’s spirit.

“Ahh, the grandfather. The guest of honor at last has arrived.”

“Enough talk, what did you mean trouble?!” Deacy demanded.

“Nothing you need concern yourself about. I’ll handle it from here, for now you lot can just move on after I—” suddenly Constantine was pushed up against the wall.  The iron candelabra was tossed out of his hand and soon Deacy stood face to face with Constantine.

“Tell. Me. What’s. After. My. Family?” Constantine sighed heavily.

“Not a what. A who. A demon has been eyeing your granddaughter ever since she met you lot.”

“A demon?” questioned Roger.

“Yes. Beelzebub. One of the high keepers of Hell.”

“What does he want with our (Y/n)?” demanded Freddie.

“Apparently he’s pissed at not only the fact that the living is conspiring with the dead. But that it’s family related. Having future generations meet face to face if one is dead and the other living is strictly forbidden according to Hell and Heaven’s laws. As soon as I found out that she was being targeted by Beelzebub, I’ve tried to send her warnings about it to stay away from here.”

“Those dreams she’s been having. You were behind them all along?” Freddie said.

“Yes. But apparently she still kept coming. Mostly because of you John Deacon. Then I got a message from one of Beelzebub’s lackies a week before I came in contact with (Y/n).

“More like kidnapped!” Brian hissed.  Constantine rolled his eyes and continued.

“Kidnapped, met with her, same thing. The point is, he told me that Beelzebub was not only coming for her, but for the rest of her family too. And he’s already managed to trick your living wife into seeing what you’ve become.”

“He’s hurt Veronica!?” Deacy raged out as the house began to shake.

“Deacy, Deacy dear calm down.” Freddie tried to soothe.

“Not hurt. But he sure as hell gave your wife a hell of a scare. And if I don’t stop him now, he’ll hurt (Y/n) as well as her father.”

“Robert.” Deacy whispered.  Constantine nodded.

“So because of her interacting with us, we’ve marked her for dead?” Roger asked.

“Not if we can stop Beelzebub first my darlings.” Freddie said.

“How Fred? We can’t leave the farm grounds. We tried to when we first became ghosts it’s impossible to leave!” Brian said.

“You guys won’t be going.” Deacy said.

Everyone looked at the young bass player’s spirit.  His friends and brothers looked at him like he was talking crazy.

“Deacy you’re not suggesting…..”

“I am Brian. The only one going is me.”

“Absolutely not dear I positively forbid it! I forbid you going alone!” Freddie said as he floated right in front of Deacy.

“You can’t suede me Fred. Not this time.”

“Deacy I know—”

“No Brian you don’t know what I’m going through!” Deacy snapped.

“Deaks she’s our family too. We love her just as much as you do. If she’s in danger then let us help you.” Roger said.

“No Roger. I’ve already risked my living family’s lives, I don’t want to risk you guys too.” Deacy then turned to Constantine and he said in a firm tone, “Do you know a way a ghost can leave his burial prison?”

“There might be a spell.” Constantine shrugged nonchalantly.

“Perform it then.”

“Sorry mate can’t do that. See I only came here for one purpose and one purpose only. And that was to send you and your friends to the great beyond. If you lot don’t go then you put yourselves at even greater risk of going straight to the looney bin of ghosting.” Constantine then felt Deacy’s hand at his throat, slowly squeezing it and he was slowly being raised up till he was almost at the ceiling.

“And if you don’t brew up something that’ll allow me to save my family, I’ll reach into the deepest parts of your brain and pull out each painful memory one by one forcing you to feel exactly how I’ve suffered and will suffer if anything happens to my family.”

“Alright! Alright you win!” Deacy released his grip and Constantine was dropped to the floor. He rubbed his throat and let out a few coughs. “Bloody hell now I see where your granddaughter gets her stubbornness from.”

“Enough talk. What is it you need to brew this spell up?” Deacy ordered.

“Nothing to exotic. Just the skull of an owl, feather of a crow, fur of a black cat, a few bluebells, and a dash of paprika.”

“We can manage that. Roger you know where the paprika is, Brian you can get the bird stuff, and I know where to find Midnight.” Freddie said.  The three ghosts all left the living room leaving the two Johns in the room.

“A word of warning for you John Deacon, your powers might not be as strong as they are here on the farm. Also you’ll be prone to every ghost weakness in the book. Iron especially.”

“I don’t care. All I want is for my family to be safe, and for Beelzebub to go back to hell where he belongs. He picked the wrong family to target.”

“Family man till the end. That’s either very admirable or very stupid of you.” when the guys got back with the ingredients, Constantine grabbed his bag and brought out the gauntlet he was going to use to send the guys away, and poured the ingredients in.

“Deacy are you sure you should go at this alone?” Freddie asked worriedly.

“It has to be me Fred. If Beelzebub wanted to get a message out to me, he should’ve had the balls to come here himself. Not bring (Y/n), Veronica or Robert into this mess.”

“Alright Deacon, it’s ready. Just stand right over there.” Constantine said as he pointed to the center of the room.  Deacy floated to where Constantine wanted him.  As he poured out the sand mixed with the ingredients he needed, Constantine began to chant in ancient tongues.  He circled around John pouring the sand out till it formed a circle.

He stood in front of him and held his hands downward to the ground.  The sand suddenly sparked into a ring of fire as Constantine’s chanting grew louder and faster.  Freddie, Brian and Roger stood there in shock at seeing their youngest brother and band member suddenly in a ring of fire that seem to spin faster and faster as it rose over John’s entire body.

At one final command, the fire disappeared and John’s spirit was gone.

“Where did he go?” asked Freddie.

“He’s been sent to the heart of London. But finding his family is all up to him now.” Constantine explained.

The three ghosts turned to look at each other worriedly and hoped that their friend would be okay.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

penman47 asked: Your pages on Stirling Moss and Graham Hill have brought back fond memories of my passion for Formula 1 racing and the Grand Prix races from 1963 through1972. Mechanical failures often plagued Stirling Moss, Graham Hill and Jimmy Clark as man put machine to test. My question would be who of the three would come out on top driving the same mechanically perfect car at say the British Grand Prix Silverstone.

Thank you for your question @penman47​

I received this question just before the sad news about the recent untimely death of the legendary Sir Stirling Moss. It feels prescient to respond now after a bit time to pass to reflect with a more sober perspective rather than let sentiment and emotion cloud any judgement.

In my family we are, it is fair to say, racing nuts. My grandfather had the racing bug and drove classic cars at amateur meets like Goodwood through his friendship with Freddie Richmond and was involved heavily in the RAC Club. He was fortunate to see all three of these racings icons race. He saw all of Jim Clark’s five victories at the British Grand Prix and regularly went to Monaco to see Graham Hill win there five times. He saw Stirling Moss race too and he was there for the Glover Trophy at Goodwood in 1962 when Stirling Moss had his career ending accident. Without taking anything away from the modern era drivers like Alain Prost, Ayrton Senna, Michael Schumacher,  and Lewis Hamilton - all of whom he thinks are a credit to motor racing - he is very much of his era. As a proud Scots, he thinks Jim Clark was the best he ever saw.

My father got the racing bug too but was more of a Le Mans fan when he was growing up because spectators were closer to the action than F1. He had inherited and also built up his own classic car collection that he sometimes races at Goodwood. He was a wee laddie when he saw Clark and Hill race but he doesn’t fully recall because he was too young to fully remember. He loved watching James Hunt, Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost but had a grudging respect for Nikki Lauda. He never saw Stirling Moss race but knew him quite well through Goodwood and at the RAC Club in London. I know his head says Jim Clark but his heart says Stirling Moss was the best British driver.

For one of my older brothers, who has a thing for speed as I do, he was always a big Ayrton Senna fan. Again as a small boy he saw Ayrton Senna race and was part of the converted to consider him as the greatest driver of all time. Senna’s bravery was his own inspiration to take part in the Dakar Rally and other endurance races.

It’s indeed one of my unmet ambitions to ride in the Dakar Rally but it’s always been on the back burner. I would like to ride with my brother because he has the experience but he and I are too competitive and we would fight over who was the better driver - for the record, I know I am.

My mother - being Norwegian - is left to make dry sarcastic remarks about boys and toys whenever my grandfather, father and us siblings talked about racing. But she’s not immune to the glamour of F1 racing either. I’ve been told by my aunts that when my mother was at her Swiss boarding school, and later learning to be a ski instructor in the Alps, she would descend upon Monaco during the Grand Prix with her friends and enjoy the social side of racing i.e. the partying side of Formula One racing. But she’s quite buttoned up about her partying past.  Meanwhile she and my other siblings continue roll their eyes when the subject of racing comes up. 

But speaking for myself, speed has been my drug of choice and flying combat helicopters in the army for a time helped satiate that need. When I left I felt empty and bereft. But if flying single craft planes and gliders gives me weird sense of peace these days (when I can make the time to do so), I get a decent rush from riding motorbikes hard and fast on the open country roads (forget about the urban traffic congested cityscape). Racing the odd fast car I managed to get my hands on through pliant boyfriend or good friend has given me a brief thrill too but it’s been spoiled often with my driving companion screaming in my ear or pissing their pants as I take the turn hard. With my penchant for crashing - tsk, more like a graze - I’m not allowed any where near my father’s classic cars. 

I have been to Grand Prix races, including ones at Silverstone, Spa-Francochamps, Singapore, Shanghai, Suzuka, Yas Marina, Monza, and Monaco, from the time I was at boarding school. I would either go as a guest of my grandfather or father or even with some school friends who lived in Monaco and had links to get entry into the drivers’ paddock. But these days it’s more likely because of wrangling a corporate hospitality invitation that I would have the chance to go - sometimes if I plan my calendar fortuitously and Lady Luck smiles upon me I can catch two birds with one stone e.g. do a business trip to Shanghai and stay on to see the Shanghai Grand Prix. So I follow racing avidly if I can. For me of course the amazing Lewis Hamilton is the driver of our generation along with Michael Schumacher’s imperious reign at the top. And I do like the cut of Max Verstappen’s gib too.

Of course it’s hard for me to credibly assess who was the better driver between Stirling Moss, Graham Hill, and Jim Clark because I wasn’t a direct witness but not many today were either. But I consider myself a racing fan and I have seen old footage. I have also read about the history of Grand Prix racing and listened to others whose expert views I respect. So I hope what I offer is just an educated opinion at the end of the day but I recognise the heart will come into it because racing - at least in the vintage years - was quite romantic even as it morphed into something more glamorous in later decades.

Anyway, your question just added more fuel to the fire in our family discussions over our recent Zoom calls.

I have to say upfront that I consider Jim Clark as the greatest British driver of all time. I’m with my grandfather on this one and I always enjoy playing contrarian to my father(!). But all things considered Jim Clark was on a different level to both Stirling Moss and Graham Hill. And why I think so I hope I can lay that case out below.

It’s important to put all three drivers in their racing context.

Firstly, they all didn’t race at their peak at the same time and in the case of Moss in a different era. But there was some overlap between Moss and Clark and Hill. Stirling Moss had active career from 1951-1961. Graham Hill had his active years between 1958 to 1975. And Jim Clark was only active for eight years from 196O to 1968.

Secondly, unless you’re a racing fan or have seen old film footage, it really is hard to convey to our present times just how dangerous driving was in that era. It was known as the Killer Years in Formula One history. Back in the days when the British government leached up to 97 per cent from a race driver’s income, a racer had at least a 40% chance of dying at the wheel, so tragedies were commonplace. Some prodded the tiger once too often and ran out of luck. It really is hard for us to fathom the extreme danger Grand Prix drivers put themselves under when they hared around the track as one mistake might well cost them their life or a body of broken bones.

And thirdly, it may sound simple to say this, but they drove extremely fast at very high speeds. The temptation again is to look at vintage racing cars in the light of modern super engineered racing cars and think they were easy to drive.

Few drivers in the history of motor sport can prove they’ve won the elusive Triple Crown. Only Graham Hill can. Formula One world champion in 1962 and 1968; winner of the 1966 Indianapolis 500; winner of the 1972 24 hours of Le Mans and five time Monaco GP winner. An incredible achievement that underlines the fact that Hill was one of the most complete drivers of his time. He was fast, but not the fastest. Talented, but not the most talented. The best, but not always and everywhere. Explosive, but predictable. Professional, but with enough self-mockery to pull his pants down at dinner parties, running up and down the tables. Hill drove his cars throughout the most dangerous years of the sport. Calmly and reserved, while he tried to fight off virtuoso's like Jim Clark, Jochen Rindt and Jackie Stewart.

When Stirling Moss drove on the track, he was there to race, not to eke out championship points. And to do it fast, faster than anyone else. For a driver whose competitive peak coincided with one of motor racing’s most dangerous periods when death regularly stalked all drivers, a time when average lap speeds escalated while safety precautions stood still, Moss’ courage and achievements were even more astonishing. Moss knew all about that: witness the serious leg injuries he suffered during practice for the 1960 Belgian Grand Prix, a race in which compatriots Chris Bristow and Alan Stacey both died, or the career-ending aftermath of his accident during the 1962 Glover Trophy at Goodwood.

But for his own unswerving sense of fair play, he could have pipped Mike Hawthorn to become Britain’s first world champion in 1958. Moss won four races to his rival’s one, but the latter benefited from greater reliability and consistency. The pivotal moment came in the Portuguese Grand Prix, from which Hawthorn was initially stripped of second place for receiving a push-start after slithering off the track. Moss was among those who came to his defence.

To this day Moss has won more world championship grands prix than any other driver never to have secured the championship, despite the ever-escalating number of such races. He has always maintained that he’d like to remembered as “a driver who preferred to lose while driving quickly than to win by driving slowly enough to get beaten”. For a few years, after the retirement of the great Juan Manuel Fangio in 1958, he was the finest and most famous racing driver in the world. He was so good that Ferrari not only wanted him to drive for them but were prepared to have the car painted blue, the team colour of his friend Rob Walker. And it is worth remembering that Enzo Ferrari rated Moss ahead of Fangio and placed him alongside Tazio Nuvolari. He is, perhaps then, the ultimate proof that raw racing statistics sometimes mean very little when you are natural racer.

Jim Clark’s raw racing statistics spoke volumes for his achievement and the astonishing records he set, a few of which still remain unsurpassed. More than that he has been hailed as one of the top three drivers of all time in any reputable survey. His achievements were a reflection of the awe and admiration many of his driving peers and others since his untimely tragic death have held about the man and the racer.  

Clark began matching Stirling Moss’s speed in the second half of the 1961 season, and took over the Englishman’s mantle in 1962 when Moss was injured in a crash at Goodwood on Easter Monday. Clark narrowly lost the World Championship that year to BRM rival Graham Hill, after his Lotus developed an oil leak while dominating the finale in South Africa. Two years later he lost another championship to an oil leak, literally on the last lap of the season-closing Mexican GP. The honours fell instead to John Surtees. But in 1963 and 1965 Clark was unstoppable in Colin Chapman’s green and yellow Lotuses, and their driver/engineer relationship was symbiotic.

Jim Clark not only won his second title in 1965 but he did so by leading every single lap of every race he finished in the 1965 season. Therefore, he won every race he finished with what we now call lights to flag victories. It was an incredible feat which has been unmatched by the other truly greats of the sport, Fangio, Senna, or Schumacher.

In 1963 only some obfuscation by the establishment at Indianapolis Motor Speedway in favour of the traditional front-engined roadsters prevented him from beating Parnelli Jones to victory on his Indy 500 debut in Chapman’s rear-engined Lotus ‘funny car’. He led the 1964 Indy 500 race before his rear suspension broke, and in 1965 dominated the event and became the first Briton to win this iconic race since Dario Resta in 1916.

Clark remains the only man in history to have won the Formula One World Championship and the famed Indianapolis 500 in the same year (1965).

His tally of 25 victories was a record at the time. It has since been surpassed by several other drivers, but none in so few races. Clark's came in just 72 starts, a win ratio surpassed only by Alberto Ascari and Juan Manuel Fangio.

Likewise, his tally of 33 total pole positions was first passed by Sebsatian Vettel, with only Ayrton Senna, Michael Schumacher and Lewis Hamilton ahead of Clark. But in percentage terms, Clark is ahead of them all. He was on pole for 45.2% of his races - only Fangio, on 55.8%, did better.

Those numbers give a sense of how Clark towered over his era, a period when he made many grands prix mind-numbingly boring, so completely did he and his Lotus dominate them. Yes, the Lotus was often the best car, but Clark's supremacy was not in doubt. His two titles in 1963 and 1965 were exercises in crushing superiority, and he would have won in 1964 and 1967 as well had it not been for the notoriously poor reliability of Lotus's cars.

But does any of this tell us which of the three would have won between the three of them at the British Grand Prix as you suggest?

Graham Hill may have been the monarch of Monaco - his nickname was after all ‘Mr Monaco’ with his magisterial six wins between 1963 and 1969, a record only bettered by the great Ayrton Senna - but much to his regret he never won a British Grand Prix race.

Stirling Moss won two British Grand Prix races in 1955 driving a Mercedes car and in 1957 where he shared a drive in a Vanwall car with Tony Brooks.

Jim Clark won the British Grand Prix an astonishing five times. In 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965 he won driving the same Lotus-Climax car and in 1967 he won with a Lotus-Ford car. His five victories were a record that stood through the subsequent decades until Alain Prost equalled Clark’s tally in 1993 (Prost won on and off between 1983 and 1993). Clark’s record was only surpassed in 2019 when Lewis Hamilton won his amazing sixth victory at the British Grand Prix (with perhaps more to come). Even more remarkable was how peerless Clark’s domination was as he won four British Grand Prix races consecutively. It was yet another amazing record that belonged to Jim Clark until Lewis Hamilton joined him in the record books with four straight wins (2014-2017).

It might be churlish to point out that Stirling Moss, like Graham Hill, never won at Silverstone even when he raced there. Clark won three times.

In those days the British Grand Prix was not always held at Silverstone. Between 1926 and 1986 the venue track chosen rotated between Brooklands and Silverstone, then Aintree and Silverstone, and later Brands Hatch and Silverstone. Only from 1987 onwards to the present day did Silverstone become the established venue race track of the British Grand Prix.

Moss’ two British Grand Prix victories were both achieved at Aintree (1955 and 1957). The British Grand Prix races that Moss did compete at Silverstone he retired due to engine or axle trouble.

In contrast Clark won his first British Grand Prix victory at Aintree in 1962, and another one at Brands Hatch in 1964 but the other three victories were at Silverstone.

So one would have to give the win to Jim Clark on paper.

But some may argue yes, that’s all well and good but who was the fastest driver and who really was the better driver?

Here again the stats speak for themselves. The all time list of fastest laps set during their respective careers gives us some clue because the tracks they drove on were the same during their eras. Graham Hill is 34th on the all time fastest laps set with 10 fastest laps in the Grand Prix races he drove in a 17 year career (1958-1975). Stirling Moss is 15th on the all time fastest - one position above Ayrton Senna - where he set the fastest laps in 19 Grand Prix races in his 10 year career (1951-1961). Jim Clark is 7th on the all time fastest laps set by a Grand Prix driver. He recorded 28 fastest laps in Grand Prix races in his 8 year short racing career (1960-1968). Only Mansell, Vettel, Prost, Raikkonen, Hamilton and Schumacher as 1st stand ahead of him. What makes Clark’s achievement staggering is that he was competing in an era where technology was in the Bronze Age compared to the modern marvels of technology, aerodynamics, and speed. It’s also worth noting all the other drivers had much longer racing careers than Clark did before his untimely death. At the 1968 South African Grand Prix - his last before his death in Hockenheim ring in Germany 3 months later - Clark won way ahead of the pack led by Graham Hill who came in second. He was comfortably on his way to another world championship with more records to be smashed.

Clark still holds the record of eight Grand Slam race wins - that is winning pole position, putting in the fastest lap, and leading every lap of a race to the win.  Only Lewis Hamilton comes close with six and Schumacher and Ascari with five. He achieved this twice at the British Grand Prix in 1962 (Aintree) and 1964 (Brands Hatch). Again it needs to be emphasised that Clark did all this while driving in the most dangerous era of Formula One - The Killer Years - where death of drivers and lack of driver and track safety was all too common. This is simply astonishing.

Of the three, Jim Clark was the fastest. I think this isn’t just about stats it’s also the they way they drove that made all three such great racers. All three certainly had limitless courage that even now demands total respect and awe. In particular it’s breath taking watching old film footage of Moss driving his most famous and greatest victory of all was the 1955 Mille Miglia in which he covered 1,000 miles of open Italian roads at an average speed of 97.96mph in 10 hours, seven minutes and 48 seconds.

But the fastest doesn’t make you best of course.  When it comes to judging who was the best I think what their peers and contemporaries thought of them counts a lot in coming to some conclusions as to who was the best driver.

Sir Jackie Stewart, three times world champion and a team mate of Jim Clark as well as friends with all three drivers, is worth listening to.

Many think that Graham Hill wasn’t the most natural driver. This isn’t said to slight him or doubt his abilities but to acknowledge his approach to driving. As Jackie Stewart said, “Whereas Jimmy [Clark], Stirling, to a certain extent myself, would drive around a car’s handling problem, Graham would fiddle with the car until it was right. Graham would take very different lines around a corner to others, and I know because sometimes I was following him.”

Sir Stirling Moss has echoed Stewart’s comments. “I’d go along with Jackie and say that Graham didn’t have a natural ability to drive a car extremely quickly. But having said that, when I was to choose a partner for a sports car race at say, the Nürburgring, I would always choose Graham because he was so reliable. Quick, but unlikely to do anything stupid.”

Jackie Stewart’s comment unearth one of secrets of why not only was Jim Clark the fastest but also the best of the three. Simply put Clark knew how to take corners and know when to brake.

It must be stressed that both Moss and Clark knew how to take corners and mastered the art of breaking to a level very few drivers reached whatever car they were driving.

Moss was certainly a pioneer in taking corners and knowing when and when not to brake. Moss - especially at his peak in the Lotus - would cut into the corner early and with the brakes on.

Most drivers run deep into a corner before turning the wheel. In this way a driver could complete his braking in a straight line, as is the standard practice and one everyone did and still do, before setting the car up for the corner. But natural drivers like Moss (and Clark) preferred to cut into the corner early and even with their brakes still on to set up the car earlier. In this way such drivers almost make a false apex because they get the power on early and try to drift the car through the true apex and continue with this sliding until they are set up for the next bit of straight. In other words, the result is a smooth line as you come out of the turn and race on at faster and more seamless speed.

Clark would take this to the next evolutionary step from Moss - also in a Lotus - as cars became more mechanically challenging to handle. Clark placed a big premium on braking. In his book At the Wheel (1964) he expounded on this belief, "The most important thing you can learn in racing: how to brake. Often, if I want to go through a given corner quicker I don’t necessarily put the brakes on any later than usual, but I might not put them on very hard, and take them off earlier. Where you are led into the trap is leaving your braking too late and having to run deep into the corner and brake at the last moment, you might certainly arrive at the corner quicker, but there is a psychological tendency to brake much harder than you need to and therefore over-brake."

A good example of this is looking at footage of the 1965 French Grand Prix in Clermont-Ferrand where Jim Clark won from pole position and set the fastest lap around this new track that no one had driven on before (see below)

Fast forward to the 9 minute mark you will see all the top drivers of that era tackling a fast downhill left - unfortunately you don’t see Graham Hill, who had an off day and ended up 13th I think - but the point remains valid.

Jim Clark drives a Lotus in this 1965 French Grand Prix race and is bombing away from the rest of the pack as was his usual MO. The interesting thing to notice is the turn. Clark’s Lotus is 2-3 feet inside the painted white line as he turns into the corner. It’s really more of a smooth elegant sweep into the corner. Clark clearly turns in much more earlier with the brakes - as we now know - are lightly caressed. Clark smoothly glides through out of the turn as he disappears from view carrying crucial extra speed. Then the rest come and the difference is soon clear. Jackie Stewart’s BRM P261 car grazes the line and grappling with more understeer than he might have liked finds himself to the right of the dotted line when he comes out of the turn. The V8 Ferrari of the great John Surtees also grazes the line with a similar result. Dan Gurney’s Brabham BT11 car crosses the painted line and he pays for his aggressive stance by sitting cross the road’s dotted centre line. On this track at Clermont-Ferrand there were forty-eight corners in its five sinuous miles to perilously navigate and Clark using this MO had the nonchalant confidence and consistency as well as the driving artistry to increasingly pull ahead of the chasing pack to victory.

Analysing the Clark technique, Peter Collins (a former team manager at Team Lotus and Williams, and an avid Clark fan), who knows more about what makes great drivers than most, made a key observation, “His driving was incredibly fluid even in dramatic moments. Watching the first laps of various races you got a very strong impression that he was mentally more ahead of the car than was the opposition. Watching him leading at the ’Ring in 1967, for instance, the impressive thing was that there were no dead moments in transition from braking to turn-in, to throttle on. He was able to drive an understeering car in a four-wheel drift and judge the exits to perfection.”

Graham Hill, who was a good friend of Jim Clark’s as well as being a fiercely competitive rival on the track, knew better than most and so I shall let him have the final say on this. Hill in his penned eulogy to Jim Clark noted his mastery of taking the corner, “For a driver, the excitement of racing is controlling the car within very fine limits. It's a great big balancing act, motor racing. It's having the car broken away and drifting and doing exactly as you want it to do and getting around the corner as quickly as you can, and knowing that you've done it, and hoping that it is better than anyone else has done. You are aiming at perfection and never actually getting it. Now and then you say, "That's it. That's how I want to do that corner. Now beat that, you bastards." This is the essence of racing, and at this, Jimmy, in his era, was unsurpassed.”

A word must be said about the cars these drivers drove. Racing cars in that era were extremely fast but also extremely unreliable. One can only lament how many world championships Moss, Hill, and Clark would have won if not for some mechanical car failure that did cost them dearly. In the case of Clark, he agonisingly lost the world championships in 1962 and 1964 due to oil leaks in the final race both times.

Of the three Hill was the most technical, not surprising given that he started life with the Royal Navy as a technician specialist. When he was racing Hill took notes of every test, every practice, every race and how his car handled specific track conditions and setups. He was constantly on top of his mechanics with these early versions of telemetry and his expertise on engineering meant that the difference between mechanic and driver was nothing more than a grey area. According to some of the mechanics who worked with Hill, it was sometimes impossible to please him. Both Moss and Clark by contrast didn’t really bother with that side but rather they just jumped into the car and worked around the problems on the track relying on their natural flair and genius. That’s how brilliant they both were.

So how would Moss and Clark fare if they both had the same car and barring any technical issues. There are no certainties but they did both briefly overlap in their careers, as Moss was coming to the end of his and Clark was about to start his ascension. The race that most would point to is the 1961 South African Grand Prix. Stirling Moss was the undisputed world's best in 1961, pulling off some famous victories in inferior equipment, but Clark's performances at the end of the season showed that things were changing. Clark's Lotus Climax 21 car had beaten the slightly older Lotus Climax 18/21 model of Moss in the Natal Grand Prix earlier in the month, but the East London race stepped things up a notch. Clark was fastest in qualifying and started on pole position with Moss +0.2 seconds behind.

Both Clark and his Team Lotus team mate Trevor Taylor led the way at the start but but Moss was soon into second and took the lead when Clark spun avoiding another car. Now Clark charged, despite sustaining gearbox damage, lapping faster than his pole time, and Moss was powerless to stop him coming through to win."Moss pulled in behind Clark and tried to stay in his slipstream but could not keep up with Clark's fast and furious driving and fell slowly, but surely, behind," read Autosport's report. "Clark demonstrated that the world championship is no pipe-dream for him." Clark was a little more circumspect, though beating Moss was clearly a watershed: "I had the satisfaction of beating Stirling twice in two weeks, although, in all fairness, my car was newer than his," he wrote in his 1964 book, Jim Clark - At the wheel.

That Clark was being characteristically modest and magnanimous isn’t the main point to take away. The point is made by Colin Chapman the iconic genius behind Lotus who said of Clark, “when there was no mechanical trouble, Clark absolutely blew away the opposition. One prime example of that was the 1967 German Grand Prix when the Lotus was not an easy car to drive but still Clark got pole in it by a staggering 9 seconds. This also brought out another of Clark’s skills – to drive around problems. He was capable of driving a car with any given setup – he never asked to change the setup to make it to his liking, he went out on track and tried to make the car go faster by adjusting accordingly at corners, which was very easy for him as he had a very smooth driving style and it never looked like he was trying to muscle the car across the corners.”

Once Clark was in front he was almost unbeatable. No matter who you were or how good you were, Clark was quicker and relentless. It was almost game over once Clark took the lead and slowly pulled away from the rest. Graham Hill said in his eulogy to Jim Clark, “He was also particularly competitive, particularly aggressive, but he combined this with an extremely good sense of what not to do. One can be overthrusting—aggressive to the point of being dangerous. Well, this Jimmy was not. But he was a fighter, a fighter that you could never shake off. He invariably shot into the lead and killed off the others, building up a lead that sapped their will to win.”

This is one main reason with all things being equal, Clark would beat Moss and Moss would beat Hill. The really scary thing about Clark’s complete mastery of driving was what Colin Chapman said years later, "I think Jim never drove really 100% - he was so good, he didn’t need it to beat the others. Perhaps only in Monza 1967 he had the knife between his teeth...."

Moss is rightly celebrated as an icon of motor racing. Moss had a fantastic 15 year career on the track and just as importantly he had an even longer one off the track as the fantastic ambassador of Grand Prix racing. Moss lived to be 90 years old and he used that time to deservedly cement his legendary status as a Formula One great. He was a very charismatic and convivial personality. He is revered by contemporary drivers and racing fans because his presence was anywhere and everywhere. No racing event would be complete without the vintage stardust of the great Sir Stirling Moss. At Goodwood and at the RAC Club racing enthusiasts would mill around him and listen to his endless yarns. At race circuits during the Grand Prix season his presence in paddock would stop everything as racers and technical crew were in awe of him.

In contrast Jim Clark’s racing career was tragically cut short to a mere 8 years and yet he had achieved so much at the age of 32 years old. Arguably his death had the greater impact because it was more keenly felt by his peers and those within the racing world. So when he was killed by a puncture during the wet Formula 2 Deutschland Trophy race at Hockenheim on 7 April 1968, after his Lotus crashed into unforgiving trees by the side of the track, race drivers around the world felt death’s hand on their shoulder, and asked themselves, “If it can happen to Jim Clark, what chance do we have?”

The consequence of Clark’s death cannot be stressed enough. Clark’s death was the sacrificial blood price for the more modern era drivers to race with greater driver safety measures in place and safer tracks for spectators that these days we today take for granted. A lot of credit is due to Clark’s close friend and team mate, the great Sir Jackie Stewart, who at the risk of his own personal reputation, pushed hard for the racing world to take driver safety seriously. A lot of danger - and perhaps even the excitement - has been taken out as Moss used to say. But there is no question racing - whilst still relatively dangerous because of the higher speeds they are pushing for those micro margin of victories - is much safer than the dangerous era of Moss, Hill, and Clark.

So why isn’t he more well known or revered by the general public (as opposed to hard core racing fans and those within the racing world)? I suspect it was due to his shyness and aversion to publicity. Clark grew up on a Scottish farm and he was clear to many that this was his roots that he always returned to. While he couldn’t entirely avoid the glamour of the racing world with its hedonistic side effects of women, sex and fast cars - as personified by Graham Hill or James Hunt - Clark eschewed all that in favour of simple living on his Scottish farm. His only indulgence was an airplane that he used to piloted into race circuits in Europe - Hill could fly too and it cost him his life in 1975 in a tragic plane accident. Clark simply loved racing. The proud Scot was a gentleman with self-deprecating charm and modesty to match. He was simply a good and decent man revered by his own peers in his own time.

At Clark’s funeral, Jim Clark Snr, beloved father, confessed to Dan Gurney, a racing rival, that he was the only man his son had feared. Gurney, who died in January 2018, spoke of Clark thus: “It is certainly an honour to have had the opportunity to know him as a team-mate, a friend, and to have competed with him on so many memorable occasions. Jim whipped us so many times that we all sort of got used to it. Naturally, we didn’t like being whipped, but, it is probably a testimony to Jim’s integrity and stature among us, his peers, that we couldn’t help loving the lad in spite of it.”

Elizabeth ‘Widdy’ Cameron, whom Clark nearly married in 1960, and with whom he stayed close despite rising fame, said: “He was very shy. And he was a terrific gentleman. I didn't hear him say bad things about anybody. He was a good, good man and I hope everybody remembers that. He was very special.” Sir Jackie Stewart, the three time world champion and another great British driver, still sheds a tear when he’s asked about Jim Clark.  The two Scots were close friends, and three years earlier when Stewart had arrived in F1, he played the Robin role to Clark’s undisputed Batman. “Jim Clark,” he says still, “was everything I aspired to be, as a racing driver and as a man.” When Jim Clark this humble man as a product of his upbringing on a Scottish farm in the Scottish Borders insisted that inscribed on his tomb stone would be, ‘farmer and world champion’.

Of course I never saw Moss, Hill and Clark race but I’m definitely in the camp that considers Jim Clark as not only the greatest British driver of all time but also arguably the best driver in the world of all time alongside that other most naturally gifted racer, Ayrton Senna. There’s not much to differentiate their greatness and genius.

It’s fitting that the final judgement of who was the best driver of the three should rest with their peers and contemporaries. Juan Manuel Fangio, the Argentine great is one of my favourite racers and one who is also considered one of the greatest of all time, said this about Clark in 1995: "He was better than I was - the greatest driver ever." Even the great Ayrton Senna when he went to Clark’s old Scottish boarding school, Loretto, confessed to the schoolboys, "After all - Jim Clark was the greatest driver ever."

The wonderful thing about arguing about who is the best with British icons like Moss, Hill, and Clark as examples is how the past can inspire the present generation of drivers to aspire to greater heights than the peers of the past. Who knows perhaps one day we will be talking about Lewis Hamilton or Max Verstappen in the same hushed tones of reverence and awe. Then as racing fans we should count our blessings that we can witness their special racing artistry on the track first hand while we can in the same way past generations were in awe of such special talents as Moss, Hill, and Clark.

Thanks for your question.

[papermoonloveslucy]

LIZ LEARNS TO DRIVE

November 13, 1948

“Liz Learns To Drive” (aka “Liz's Driving License” and “Liz Learns to Drive”)    is episode #16 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on November 13, 1948.

Synopsis ~ George teaches Liz to drive and she immediately gets in an accident. Through a communications mix-up, George thinks Liz has intentionally run over George's high school sweetheart, Myra Ponsenby!

Note: This episode was aired before the characters names were changed from Cugat to Cooper. It was also before Jell-O came aboard to sponsor the show and before the regular cast featured Bea Benadaret and Gale Gordon as the Atterburys.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cugat) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. “My Favorite Husband” eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cugat) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz, a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

John Hiestand (Cory Cartwright) served as the announcer for the radio show “Let George Do It” from 1946 to 1950. In 1955 he did an episode of “Our Miss Brooks” opposite Gale Gordon.

Bea Benadaret (Woman Driver) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricardo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Frank Nelson (Officer Frank Nelson) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”.  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs. His trademark was playing clerks and other working stiffs, suddenly turning to Benny with a drawn out “Yeeeeeeeeees?” Nelson appeared in 11 episodes of “I Love Lucy”, including three as quiz master Freddy Fillmore, and two as Ralph Ramsey, plus appearance on “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” - making him the only actor to play two different recurring roles on “I Love Lucy.” Nelson returned to the role of the frazzled Train Conductor for an episode of “The Lucy Show” in 1963. This marks his final appearance on a Lucille Ball sitcom.

Herb Vigran (Sergeant Martin Lewis, Homicide Squad) made several appearances on “My Favorite Husband.” He would later play Jule, Ricky’s music union agent on two episodes of “I Love Lucy”. He would go on to play Joe (and Mrs. Trumbull’s nephew), the washing machine repairman in “Never Do Business With Friends” (S2;E31) and Al Sparks, the publicity man who hires Lucy and Ethel to play Martians on top of the Empire State Building in “Lucy is Envious” (S3;E23). Of his 350 screen roles, he also made six appearances on “The Lucy Show.”

The name Martin Lewis may be a tribute to the comedy team of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, who first performed together in 1946, and went their separate ways ten years later. 

THE EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “It is morning, and Katie the maid has just put breakfast on the table and Liz and George are sitting down to it.”

George is reluctant to read the paper at the table after Liz’s previous chastisement about ignoring her at breakfast. This time, she encourages him to pick up the newspaper and when he does, she has torn a hole through the center so she can see him and he can read the news! 

Lucy Ricardo also had the same complaint about Ricky on “I Love Lucy”!

LIZ: “I’m looking at you through an automobile ad. The new Nash has blue eyes for headlights. And your ears look like both doors are wide open.”

Nash Motors Company was an American automobile manufacturer based in Kenosha, Wisconsin, from 1916 to 1957. In 1938 Nash debuted the heating and ventilation system which is still used today. The aerodynamic 1949 Nash Airflyte was the first car of an advanced design introduced by the company after the war. Nash went out of business in February 1954. 

Katie says she had the same problem with her first husband, Clarence. As a last resort, she set his newspaper on fire! 

In “Be A Pal” (ILL S1;E2), Lucy also tries setting fire to the newspaper to get her husband’s attention! Considering all the trouble Desi had to assure the studio audience’s safety for the Los Angels Fire Department, it is amazing this stunt was allowed! 

Through his ‘holy’ newspaper, George reads about his old college girlfriend, Myra Ponsenby. Liz is unenthusiastic. 

LIZ: “What’s new in Lower Slobbovia?” 

In “First Stop” (ILL S4;E14) Fred Mertz calls One Oak Cabins “Lower Slobbovia,” which is a term first used in 1946 by Al Capp in his comic strip "Li'l Abner” to describe a place that was unenlightened and socially backward.

Liz is clearly jealous and wishes Myra would “drop dead” claiming there isn’t room enough for the both of them in town. George says the article claims she is driving into town in her new imported car called a Zebra [a fictional car].  

LIZ: “I’m glad she’s got a car. It was dangerous riding around on that broomstick.”

Myra is married to Mr. Minky the peanut king, who Liz insists she married for his money. Tired of hearing about Myra, Liz begs George for another driving lesson. The last time he gave her a lesson she drove their Hudson into someone’s kitchen!  

The Hudson Motor Car Company made automobiles in Detroit, Michigan from 1909 to 1954. In 1954, Hudson merged with Nash-Kelvinator to form American Motors Corporation (AMC). The Hudson name was discontinued in 1957.

George gives in and promises to give her a lesson on the back roads after work. When he gets home, she tells him she practiced before he got there, but forgot to open the garage door!  Liz finally finds the starter (after trying the cigarette lighter and the radio). Then she has trouble finding the clutch. George is foaming at the mouth in anxiety. 

Liz finally gets the car on the road - but the wrong side!  They nearly have a collision!  George gets frustrated and Liz dissolves into tears. 

Much of the driving lesson dialogue and situations were recycled in the episode “Safe Driving Week” in October 1950. In it, George is elected town Safety Chairman just when Liz creates havoc on the roads. 

Later, Cory Cartwright volunteers to help Liz pass her driving test. He wishes her luck, as she goes into the police station to get her driver’s license. 

NELSON: “Name?” LIZ: “Elizabeth Cugat.” NELSON: “Address?” LIZ: “321 Bundy.” NELSON: “Race?”  LIZ: “Of course not!  I don’t even have a driver’s license!”

After much rhetorical to-ing and fro-ing, he takes her fingerprints and gives her the eye test:

NELSON: “Read the letters on the wall over there.” LIZ: “M-E-N.”

The eye test and fingerprinting that Liz undergoes are repeated when Lucy Carter helps her son Craig get a license in a 1969 episode of “Here’s Lucy.” 

Somehow Liz passes the driving test and gets her license. Naturally she gets in an accident on the way home with Cory. The car is a wreck, but they are okay. The other driver is a woman (Bea Benadaret) who says she will call her lawyer and the police. 

Liz doesn’t know what she will say to George about the damage to the car. Cory agrees to help her get it fixed before George finds out. 

When “Lucy Learns To Drive” (ILL S4;E12) in 1955, she also has an accident after her first lesson. Like Liz, she has to come up with a story so that her favorite husband doesn’t get angry!

When Liz finally gets home, George tells her that Myra Ponsenby has been reported missing. Liz couldn’t care less, but George wants to know why she’s so late home and is acting so peculiar. The phone rings and George eavesdrops on her conversation about the car. Not knowing to whom or what she’s talking about, George believes that his wife has done away with Myra! 

LIZ (on the phone): “You know how George feels about that old wreck. That wasn’t the first time she’d been hit. Did you see all those dents in her trunk? And her rear bumper was in pretty bad shape, too. Wasn’t it awful? I thought she’d never stop yelling. And all I did was hit her with the front wheels.”

An overheard telephone conversation on the very first filmed “I Love Lucy” episode in 1951 convinces Lucy that Ricky is going to murder her!  Of course, Ricky is merely talking about ‘getting rid’ of his girl singer, Joanne. 

George, thinking Liz is a murderer, emerges from hiding to confront her. Clueless, Liz doesn’t know what all the fuss is about, but George is sure she will ‘get the chair’!  Just then the doorbell rings and it is Sergeant Lewis (Herb Vigran), of the homicide squad. A worried Liz hides in the kitchen while George answers the door. After a moment of doubt, Liz decides to give herself up.  She tells the Sergeant to arrest her! 

Down at the police station, Liz is confronted by the policeman who issued her driver’s license, who has now transferred to homicide. The questions he asks mirror those of the driving test earlier in the day.  Liz decides to tell him the whole story, thinking she’s confessing to a traffic accident and not a murder! 

NELSON: “What did you do with the body?”

LIZ: “I had them jack it up and haul it away on a truck.”

Frank Nelson also played a policeman named Nelson in “Ricky and Fred Are TV Fans” (ILL S2;E30) in 1953. In it, Lucy and Ethel are mistaken for  Sticky Fingers Sal and Pickpocket Pearl. The dialogue is different, but also features rapid fire questions and answers between Ball and Nelson. 

The telephone rings and it is announced that Myra Ponsenby has been found alive!  She was in jail after speeding through a small town and arrested. 

In “Tennessee Bound” (ILL S4;E15) new driver Lucy Ricardo also sped through a small town (Bent Fork) and was arrested! 

After a moment, Liz suddenly realizes that that they assumed she murdered Myra!  Liz laughs, knowing that she will now get the car fixed without any fuss!

In the usual bedtime tag, Liz is up late reading a murder mystery. George spoils the ending so he can get some sleep: the butler did it.  George says the butler killed his wife because she talked too much when he was trying to go to sleep!

LIZ: “Ohhhh!  Goodnight, George.”

[allezyshirt]

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My concern is does he have eArly dementia Voncile Stone The dems would much rather the virus take over the country if that made Trump look bad People dyeing means nithing to Schumer or Pelosi Trashing Trump is much more important they are truly mentially Ill Marilyn Demby Caulder You are doing a great job we don’t believe one word that comes out of the mouth of those lying Democrats the debate tonight was more like a circus They are scared of you that’s for sure and they better be afraid very afraid Trump 2020 Mike Perry The Democratic party actually loves the prospect of a pandemic that effectively destroys the economic prosperity of every country in the WORLD these people have NO limitations of who ever needs to Die for their agenda to be put into place and fo Xem thêm Michael Stovall On the Democrat Debate Stage tonight all the Circus Clowns said you President are not doing enough to protect the United States from the Coronavirus I am sure the Fake News Media will be repeating what the Debate Clowns said Jeremy Church It just occurred to me The fact that we don t live in a third world communist country where we are forced to work relentlessly for little to no pay That we have access to healthcare The fact that our government doesn t view us as subjects Kathy Doering Leyba LOVE YOU BIG D Dems need to stop using the COVID 19 to further their political gains Shameful Real Americans know how to help themselves Stop whining and get your house straight for a bumpy ride thru this potentially difficult journey Snowflakes Kay Chaney America Thanks You Mr President and the majority of it is very pleased with You as our Commander Chief We all are very aware of the Dems their fake media every one of their crooked schemes Where by they are nailing their own feet to the floor Laura Murphy Taylor Americans always know when you do the right thing by the level of outrage the Democrats have So if their faces are melting and their hair is in fire We know you did it right Janice Smith You can do no right in the Dems eyes but who cares Your Patriots have your back Jennifer Bishop And I don’t care if a DEMOCRAT’S post negative crap on my post Anyone that thinks the way Sander’s Boomer Obama Clinton and all them think is ok then there is definitely some screws missing BobDebra Lee Thank you Sir Thank you for the continued success off the wall and thank you for closing the gates to those coming in that could possibly be exposed Democrats are just really unhappy people They would crucify Jesus again if he were here Amazingly sad Frances Willden got to be 5 steps ahead the dems must be all on crack or your hitting to close to home or their pockets what both I do why ahead where does it hurt your ready to face it on meaning a storm comes flash lights generators if it dont work propane and m Xem thêm Matthew Perry Thank you President Trump for protecting our boarders and health The Dems will never give you a fair evaluation You do what is right for the American people and we all know it Richard Griswold By the way Mr President Rod Rosenstein’s sister Nancy Messonnier is trying to instill fear chaos with press releases to the public Scott Kimrey Unfortunately it only takes one self actualized individual who gets the chance to skirt quarantine and start infecting what is now a national and global community Odds are in favor of the virus spreading here and again unfortunately the Dems are sit Xem thêm Richard Shallenberg all americans know we at CDC have a handle on what we have been allowed too handle but just like WHO was a weel late on knowing nothing we were already ahead of them and china but the dems don’t care about world health they are a bunch of abortionists’ the more deaths the better they just want there money Rhonda Schneider Thank u Mr president if the dems had it their way we the american people would b suffering greatly they don’t care about us the lower hard working class like me needs someone to help us we can’t continue living with such low wages high price of living n expensive health care Lindy Frady The Dems keep fighting among themselves So much BS going on had to turn it off It s ok the more they talk the more votes we get People are coming to the light side daily They have lost there minds and it keeps getting worse No the lead candidate is a socialist Winning Trump 2020 Claire Fish Yes it is a boo hoo for Democrats because they didnt take the virus seriously They only care about trying to ruin Trump more than the people of this Country Congress voted against closing a part of the border It was the smart thing to do Allicyn Raymond Your the biggest reason I have faith this planet wont capsize into a big ball of fire into space Thank you for never letting the nay sayers break you down The dems and any other politician could learn a thing or two from your administration Thank you for your selfless service You got my vote for the rest of history please save our vaping industry as well please Kristofor Gullickson The Dems are just tryin’ to get the last bit of their investments from just before Obamacare It is likely any Republicans are not in Government anymore or sold their shares long ago Mary Schmidt Kern Steyer wants reparations for slavery for those who never experienced It Wtf the Republican Party was started to end slavery and somehow the dems are twisting it because red voters believe in making your own living and not depending on the government for handouts unless you really need it Uhhhg Carole Tewell what about the man you just appointed who knows absolutely nothing you can really pick them and the wonderful betsy devoss who also know nothing about education were her donations worth childrens education as long as you can fill a spot with one of your wealthy friends it doesnt matter you have to pay them back for their support Jerry Aggson Keep it up Mr President you’re doing a great job There’s only one thing more ignorant than a democrat poo pooing a good thing Someone voting for that democrat Never the less we love the job you are doing and couldn’t be more proud of the man that Xem thêm Eliz Ann Maybe you should reasure the American people that you are working with CDC because as usual the Dems are saying you are doing nothing about the corona virus William M LeBleu It doesn t matter what you do Mr President the media and the Democrats will try to twist it to try to make a negative out of it Just remember Sir when it comes to these clowns that is all they have to offer America a big NEGATIVE They have run Xem thêm Jill Lanpher Those who vote for Bernie Sanders are voting for socialism leading to communism think money grows on trees that student debt should be paid by tax payers support open borders and sanctuary cities free Medicare for all feel nothing is wrong with Xem thêm Curt Green Most of us know your level of commitment and appreciate it Wouldn’t even be surprised at all if the Dems manufactured yet another crisis simply to affect an election Wouldn’t be the first time they sacrificed American lives for their cause Desperate times call for desperate measures Go ahead shoot holes in it if you can but it doesn’t matter because even if it were true it will never be reported Vincent Anthony One sign that the Dems were serious about this is that they would not politicize the situation As it is they have positioned themselves for victory only as American bodies pile up DISGUSTING Kathy Ream Just saw the demo debate None of them would shut up when their time was done Birney wouldn’t shut up even when it was some one else turn It was a mess up there on stage I can’t imagine ANY of them as President They all have a plan but never say what it is Trump2020 Adam Lindley Dems just throw money at something to fix it Still not working Throw more money at it That s their way Trump doesn t give enough money and they throw him under the bus The democrat way Sandra Bates The dems are trying to use this now as a political tool We know you have a handle on this situation Please keep us informed Some of the media are trying to put fear into America Fake News Really Fake News and definitely biased news to say the least They don’t know how to report real news anymore Your administration is doing a great job Deslor Emberga Vanhees Why will American vote for Democratic they all ready show how they are in 3 years nothing they ve done but to Harass their own President it should be nothing but President Trump 2020 GoD Bless America in Jesus name we trust not the Democrat Atlas Holduup Just registered to vote for trump didnt like the iran situation but other then that hes proven himself worthy of presidency and I swore id never vote until a candidate presented himself worthy of my vote Michael Davis Every Demoncrat is a sore loser Most are clueless to the fact that the globalists want to control their very lives by tyrannical rule Trump is our last hope I for one have confidence in you and your Administration Mr President Also I am fed up with the Dems who would not be happy with any thing you do Thank goodness we the people know them well And if anyone out there is not sure just go look at the behavior of Nancy Pelosi and her dressed in white clan s behavior during our President s SOTU address That behavior Is the worst that I have EVER seen from elected leaders I felt terrible discomfort knowing that that behavior was being seen all over the world Just think about that Let that sink in people please God help this country if THOSE people ever make up the majority of our Leaders Carmelo Consiglio Trumps been cutting funding for the CDC since taking office If there’s not an outbreak in the USA it will be a miracle Hell today he’s trying to put a bunch of patients in a condemned building in the OC instead of a FEMA facility Maxx Alexander It’s ok nobody with a decent brain and a clue has missed the media being completely negative and dishonestly so No better President we could ever ask for than you Especially when times are challenging Christine Ward Roe I think the media isn’t helping by blowing this up in the news remember China delayed by 6 weeks and let the virus spread but the US has acted very quickly to contain it especially by Trump imposing travel restrictions and quarantines otherwise we would look like Italy but the dumbard Dems are upset with the his travel ban what the heck Trash Animal Wtf Wine Tasting Friends Vintage T Shirt

[angrylizardjacket]

this one's called "im finally heading home and I wrote this on my phone in the airport and Ash does have family, and it's weird to see even one of them, set 79''

"Ashley? Ashley Clarke?" The moment Ash hears her full name being called at an after party in an accent that's far too familar, her blood runs cold. They're playing in London and she never expected anyone from her home town to be here, now. The music around her becomes white noise as she turns on her heel, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off, she may not recognise the voice, but they obviously recognise her, which is enough to set her on edge. But when she turns, there's a young woman behind her, grinning and surprisingly familiar. "I almost didn't recognise you." The woman laughs, stepping into Ash's space and wrapping her in a hug.

"Do I know you?" Ash asks, awkwardly prying the young woman off of her, and the girl's face falls.

"Ashley it's me, it's Mikayla." And the moment it clicks into place, that this woman is her younger sister, Ash takes another step back, frowning, a sudden anxiety coursing through her, even after all these years.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I saw the show, and one of my friends knows, I don't know, someone who knows someone who got us invited here; I didn't know you'd be here." Mikayla speaks like she's trying to calm a frightened animal, and surprisingly it actually seems to work. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." And she goes to leave, but Ash reaches out, snagging her sister by the shoulder.

"Minnie- wait," she sighs, forcing herself to relax, "how old are you now?" And when Minnie answers that she's twenty-two, not even bothering to hide her confused and a little hurt frown, Ash pulls her to the bar and buys her a drink.

"If you're twenty-two that means it's been," Ash takes her out to the back of the pub where it's quieter, where they have more space to themselves, "fuck, it hasn't really been eleven years, has it? No wonder I didn't recognise you," Ash laughs, but Minnie isn't nearly so candid about it.

"Yeah, a lots happened since you left."

"Since I was kicked out," Ash corrects sharply, and Minnie at least has the decency to look apologetic, "where's Ellie?"

"Fucked if I know, probably playing happy families," she doesn't sound happy about it, "she's married, you know? Last I heard she was expecting, but that was a while ago, so who knows," she shrugged, taking a long sip of he drink as Ash's brow furrowed.

"You and Ellie don't speak?"

"Well I mean her husband is my ex-fiance so..." She shrugged, before giving Ash a wry smile. "Like I said, a lot's happened."

"Min, that's fucked, what the hell? You guys were The Shining twins when I left," Ash's eyes are wide as saucers as she looks at her little sister, who laughs, loud and sharp.

"We were eleven!" There's a long pause, and Minnie looks up to the stars above, her smile turning soft and whistful. "It's so strange, I never realised how much I missed you 'til I saw you again. Were you just planning to never come back? Never see us again?"

"Mum and dad don't want to see me," Ash rolled her eyes, and Minnie frowned.

"Of course they do! I mean, mum acts like doesn't want to see anyone apart from Ellie, she's barely spoken to Oz since his divorce - Oz got married too, by the way, like it didn't work out but the ceremony was beautiful - but she's just a traditionalist hypocrite."

"Oz got married?" Ash's voice is so gentle it almost hurts, and when Minnie looks at her, she sees the tears in Ash's eyes.

"You'd love his kids," Minnie smiles, taking her sisters hand and giving a fond squeeze, "Allen's almost ten, looks just like a little version of Oz, and Jackie's six, she's a terror." Minnie laughs softly, and Ash joins her. Part of her is completely overwhelmed with guilt, but then she pushes it down; however much she would have liked to see her brother, it doesn't override the fact that he was one of the people who helped run her out of town when she was nineteen. Brushing the tears from her eyes, Ash smiles.

"I'll have to meet them one day, now Min, what have you been up to-" before Ash can finish asking her question, Minnie grabs her hand, eyes wide as she focuses on the ring on Ash's finger.

"Did you get married?" She gasps, and Ash pulls her hand from Minnie's grasp.

"Calm down, I'm just engaged." She laughs softly, but Minnie is still agape.

"Ace, you're engaged, to who?" She demands to know, which startles a laugh from Ash.

"God, no-one's called me that in years," she mused, "he's around here somewhere, I'll introduce you later." She assured, and that set Minnie off on a whole new round of questions, why she was at the party, what she'd been doing with her life, how long she'd been with this 'mystery man' (and wouldn't Roger get a kick out of that).

Ash is hesitant to tell Minnie too much, she doesn't blame the girl for what happened over a decade ago, she was eleven at the time after all, but it was an automatic response when speaking to her family. She says she's a designer and that alludes to the fact that she works with the band before she's off and asking Minnie about her own life. Minnie really had changed in the past decade, dropping out of university to become an assistant to a museum curator. Of course this delights Ash, and Minnie's halfway through gushing about their latest collection when her voice dies in her throat and her eyes go wide.

"So this is where you've hidden yourself away, you know Freddie's been looking for you." Roger slings an arm around Ash's waist as he comes up to the sisters, shooting Minnie a grin where she's giving him a starry-eyed gaze.

"Oh god, he hasn't ripped that jacket has he?" Ash asks, leaning her head against his shoulder and wearing a terribly put-upon look. Roger snorts, shaking his head. "Is it his pants? I told him I'm not fixing another broken zipper," Ash groaned, before waving it off. "Whatever, Paul has a packet of safety pins, he'll survive; Rog, this is Minnie." She introduces, as if finally remembering her little sister sitting across from her. Roger sticks out his free hand.

"Mikayla, hi." Minnie corrects with flushed cheeks, snapping from star-struck to flirtatious in an instant. Ash fights to not roll her eyes, which she thinks Roger can sense by the way he gives her hip a squeeze.

"Minnie," Ash says pointedly, "this is Roger Taylor, my fiance." Minnie just about screams at that, at the please little grin Roger's wearing. "This is my little sister." Ash clarifies, and suddenly any confusion Roger had had cleared in an instant.

"I thought I recognised you," and he turns, lifting Ash's chin so she's looking at him, though she seems incredibly exasperated, and he's amused for the barest moment before pinching he cheek and turning back to Minnie, "you've got the same face."

"Similar, not the same." It's an kneejerk response from Minnie, who's lived her life hearing those words while standing beside her twin, but Roger doesn't think too hard about it and concedes easily.

Roger hides his confusion easily, but Ash knows it's there. For all the time she's known him the only thing she's ever genuinely been cagey about is her family, he knew she had a sister, well two, but the other doesn't seem to be here, but he's never really known anything about them beyond their names. But even so, he can tell Ash is nervous, even though she goes to commendable lengths to hide it. He's zoned out from the conversation for a bit, but when he comes to, Ash is grinning at him.

"Huh?"

"Min wants to know what I do for the band," Ash grins, before Roger smirks at her and she elbows him, "don't be gross." She warned, but that only made him smile wider.

"So this one Halloween-" Roger starts, but Ash stands so fast her chair goes crashing to the ground. She's as red as her hair, and she slaps a hand over his mouth.

"I told you to not be gross- stop licking my hand!" She cries, and he tries to say something but she refuses to move. Minnie watches like she can't quite fathom that her sister is bantering and engaged to the rock star she's had a crush on since she was fifteen. "Don't bring that up around my little sister, and anyways that Halloween is between you, me, and the trees-" She snapped though she was grinning, and finally she removed her hand.

"So that's what you're calling him-" and with that Roger's mouth is covered again, but they're both laughing, he's got his arms around her and Ash has her forehead pressed to his chest, but Minnie's starting to put two and two together.

"Ace..." A little in awe but mostly scandalised, "have you-?"

"No, shut up, whatever it is I haven't done it!" Ash is quick to deny, stepping away from Roger as he simply laughs louder, though he's quiet endeared by the nickname. "I'm their stylist, I make their clothes and plan their outfits." She clears up, though Minnie raises her eyebrows sceptically. "I'm gonna kill you when we get home," she murmurs to Roger, but she's smiling, and he just wiggles his eyebrows at her. Minnie feels something break in her mind... They live together; her older sister is in love with Roger Taylor, and despite all the tabloid articles she's read about his reputation, he loves her too.

"I've missed you, Ashley," Minnie says when Roger returns to the crowd. They both watch him go, and Ash is wearing a smile that the younger woman knows all too well, how smitten she is with that pretty rock star. Ash grins at Minnie, taking her hand and giving it a fond squeeze.

"I've missed you too, Minnie."

[scoobydoominuscoobydoo]

 Part Six

“You know like...two people, together. That nobody ever thought would be together...”

“I’ll let you students know right now that this job I’ve appointed you is your top priority, grades and attendance will be ignored until you find Miss McCall.” 

Velma visibly flinched, as if their attendance record could get any worse this year.

The gang all sent each other worried looks, the fact that the principal thought calling them in here to let them know that their grades and attendance didn’t matter would make them find Natalie McCall faster was concerning.

Never had so many people put so much faith in them and so far they were letting them all down.

To the point that the freaking principal, the god of their dimension, had to intervene and tell them that either they get their shit together and find his granddaughter or be forced to repeat the year due to the amount of classes they missed. Or worse.

People had sudden expectations of them now. And it was nerve wracking.

Before people would just label them the Nancy Drew wannabes that always sat outside during lunch and had a weird van that seemed like the prime piece of real estate to hand out pot.

Which explained why so many people approached Shag with the hope of buying “A couple ounces.” 

Which only led to Shaggy being confused and that person never associating with the gang ever again.

Daph would usually just say, “I’ll explain it to you when you’re older dear.”

But now the student body president, and local queen of Coolsville, had been kidnapped a week ago and still no ransom was announced.

Suddenly people expected the Nancy Drews and their pot van to jump right in and search for the top rung of the social ladder. But for a while the gang hadn’t planned on getting involved, seeing as there was no man in a mask involved. So it didn’t really fall under their criteria of mysteries.

But when Natalie’s boyfriend approached them offering money to find her, it became clear the people thought they were going to find the lost girl.

After a couple more days of pestering and one altercation where one of the girls from the cheer squad shoved Shaggy against the lockers and demanded they find Nat unless they wanted to be thrown into the school swimming pool that would be “conveniently” filled with a mixture of Vaseline and Nair. 

Of course Daphne nearly strangled her to the ground, she had zero tolerance for anyone who threatened her gang (Shaggy especially) but Shag pulled her away and promised they’d try what they could to find her.

Unfortunately, the gang had no idea where to start and Daph’s constant suggestion that they just rip the cheer squad a new one and let the police handle it wasn’t helping.They had started by talking with the parents who didn’t even try to hide their disappointment at the sight of a bunch of seniors being their only hope to find their baby girl.

They then, skeptically, relayed anything they could remember regarding the kidnapping and their daughter.

The only useful things they got out of that conversation was the fact the Natalie was “the perfect little angel.” And that she was snatched the day of her 16th birthday party.

A party Daph and Fred had been invited to but both turned down since Scooby had a vet appointment that day and they didn’t want a stressed out Shag left alone with Velms who would definitely try to be sympathetic and comforting. But she would absolutely 100% beyond the shadow of a doubt fail horribly and certainly make it worse. Bless her heart.

A few leads would pop up here and there but for the most part they all led to zilch.

The students were getting anxious about Nat’s safety and annoyed with the gang who had yet to find anything on her. The cheerleaders had filled Shag’s locker with unopened tubes of Nair that all came tumbling down on him when he opened it. 

This only further convinced Daph that they needed to attack the squad and forget about finding Nat.

“Daph, like they just miss their friend. Wouldn’t you do the same thing if I was snatched by some freak?”  

“Shaggy, the last time you got kidnapped you were missing for 24 hours and even during that small amount of time I wasn’t able to function or think. I-If you were missing for the same amount of time as Nat than I........”

She never finished that sentence. 

They had left the principal’s office with grim looks on their faces.

The gang could see the gears in Velma’s head set at maximum speed as she tried to figure out their next damn move.

Fred grabbed the back of her shoulders and steered her through the crowd of people as she continued to think. Daph sent glares to any of the cheerleaders that walked by them and took a protective stance next to Shaggy. 

“Oh man my sweet knight in shining armor! Like, what would I do without you?”

She was pulled out of bodyguard mode by his clear teasing and sighed, she knew Shag wanted her to give them a break. But that would mean having to apologize to them, and Daphne was not a fan of saying sorry to people she disliked.

They all stopped at Velma’s locker, the wheels still turning it seemed, and Fred leaned against the door of the locker next to hers.

Shaggy and Daphne looked at each other and then back at Velms.

Whenever her brain was turned onto 100% she would usually be spaced out for a few minutes to a few hours. They were all hoping it would be the latter.

And they were lucky this time because after another five or so minutes with eyes glazed over, she popped back into reality with a start. Making Shaggy jump back and bump into one of the students. Both of them crashed to the ground.

Velma looked down and rolled her eyes, “Maybe we should call you Danger Prone Shaggy so that you and Daph can be all matchy matchy.” 

Daphne giggled nervously as she grabbed onto his arm and helped Shaggy stand up again, sending anxious glaces to a confused Fred, who didn’t get the point of Velma’s joke. 

Shaggy didn’t seem to hear what Velms said since he was too busy apologizing to whoever he crashed into and knocked down.

As he turned his attention back to the group, Daph let go of his arm and pretended to be busy brushing imaginary dirt off of her dress.

Fred just shrugged and turned back to Velma.

“You got anything Velms?”

She stared at all of them for a second before smirking, “Of course I do, why else would you guys keep me?” She turned around and started to enter the combination for her locker as she began to explain her idea.

“This is obviously so much bigger than just Natalie. I mean while it may be tempting to kidnap a 15 - no - 16 year old girl now.” She pulled open her locker, “I believe that this has something to do with her parents, her father more specifically.”

“Wait so you think Nat’s dad, like went out and pissed somebody off and like a decent human being the somebody that got pissed went and kidnapped the apple of his eye and now has him so nervous that he’s practically pulling his hair out without touching it?” Velma sent Shaggy a glare and turned back to searching her locker.

“I checked out a book on the McCall family seeing as they’re one of the oldest families in Coolsville and this town is bored as fuck.” She shoved a pile of, “light reading” books aside and got on her tip toes to try and reach up and grab whatever was behind them.

“And for the generation before ours, or Nat’s parents. The family had split off into two, one with Nat’s dad and - thank you Freddie - one with Nat’s uncle or her dad’s brother.” She held out the book that Fred had grabbed from the locker and handed to her.

She flipped through the pages quickly, most likely trying to spot one page in particular.

“Basically a lot of bickering and, ‘Why did daddy give you the nice house and I just got his $300,000 car??!!’ went down and the brothers stopped talking to each other.” Daph snorted.

“Been there done that, family feuds are so not as fun as you’d think.” Everyone rolled their eyes and sent Daphne a look that said, “Not now.”

“Aaaanywaaay, because Nat’s dad had made smarter business choices and isn’t a fucking moron his brother got pissed at him and decided the reason he was rich was because he inherited ‘more’ than him from their dad.”

Fred cleared his throat and nodded.

Daph sighed, “So....you think that this brother hated Nat’s dad so much that he kidnapped his niece....o-out of revenge for being poorer than his brother??”

Velma shrugged, “That would explain why there’s been no ransom demand, and the brothers have both been known to threaten each other in public. Plus he’s able to play the concerned uncle card so the police haven’t focused on him.”

Freddie groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Velms you do realize that is grasping at not even straws here, we’re grasping at coffee stirrers?” 

Velma shook head.

“Look this uncle recently rented out the newer yacht brought to the marina and he’s done nothing with it. He hasn’t even taken it out on the the water! I’ll bet you anything that he’s keeping Natalie there!”

Shaggy chuckled nervously, “Like, I hope you’re not willing to bet us all probably getting expelled if this doesn’t work out.”

He could see Daphne glance down at his hands out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t shaking, but he wasn’t really sure why she thought they would be shaking at all.

After Velma’s revelation they discussed the plan with the police.

While the idea got a lot of eyebrow raises, these meddling kids had never been wrong before.

So they dropped Shaggy and Daphne back at the high school so that if Nat was safe and intact they could call them and they would let the school know she was fine.

Fred and Velma were gonna be forced to stay in the squad car and that was the best they could get.

As Shag and Daph waited for the call from Velma it became clear how riled up the students were getting. The cheerleaders sneered and others sent them warning glares. They had no idea why them not being able to find Nat would automatically be their fault. Solving mysteries grounded in reality was never their thing and Nat was no exception.

Shaggy sighed, that was just the logic of high school, he was so glad he only had less than one year left of this hell.

And then he gulped, if this didn’t work out then who knows what the principal would do to them. He could force them to repeat a year or worse, expel them.

If that happened it wouldn’t be any good for Fred and Velma who both applied to Yale and Stanford. He glanced over at Daphne who was twiddling her thumbs and just looking pretty in general. She wanted to go to NYU in a desperate attempt to escape her family’s stupid traditions and live as far away from them as she could within reason. 

He felt his heartbeat start to pick up.

The future always seemed to make him nervous. 

But the chance that this would ruin his friend’s futures, Daphne’s future, it just made his skin run cold.

He wondered how their parents would react.

He gulped, he had a pretty good idea of how his parents would respond.

He took a deep breath and bit into his lower lip, he needed to calm down. If he panicked now then he would just go absolutely insane if Nat wasn’t okay.

It had been around an hour since they had been dropped off and there was still no call from Velms and no news of the condition of of the victim.

Daphne looked over at Shag and saw that he seemed to be in his beginning stages of panic, she wasn’t totally sure where the panic was coming from but the current stakes people had put on them were even making her nervous. 

She walked over to him slowly an began to make a grab for his hand, “Shags...you alri-”

Her moment was cut off by the sound of the Dairy Queen theme. 

Shaggy’s ringtone.

They jumped and seemed frozen for a second, both just looking at each other.

Exhaling, he grabbed his phone out of his back pocket and answered.

“Velma?......... It what?......With his girlfriend......She’s just....gone???” Daphne was holding her breath as she heard the bits and pieces and felt her heart sink as Shaggy’s face fell and his breathing picked up.

She wasn’t there.

They had no idea where she was.

Or if she was still alive.

His hand fell back down to his side, Velma still talking to him on the other end, probably not aware that he wasn’t listening.

Daph watched as his eyes began to dart around, “Shaggy a-are you alright?? You need to breathe!” She grabbed onto his hand which he quickly tightened around hers.

“Hey! Nancy’s! How’s Nat is she doing okay??” Daph groaned as she looked around trying to spot a place to escape.She could hear him begin to wheeze, totally at a loss for breath, as more people began to approach them and demand Nat’s condition. Making it even harder for Daph to plot an escape route.

After a second she groaned and made sure her grip on Shag’s hand was tight.

With her other arm she began to elbow people out of the way, trying to find somewhere where everything would be quiet.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the van parked next to the front courtyard. She looked back at Shaggy, who was definitely not okay, and tightened her grip on his hand and choosing to ignore all the people that were calling out to them.

She tuned them out as she opened the front doors and made sure her and Shaggy didn’t come tumbling down the front steps.

Looking back again her heart ached to see him like his.

Sure she had seen it happen before but usually Scooby helped him out a lot. 

And this was definitely nothing like her mother’s panic attacks that just required a shot of tequila and the Cheetah Girls 2 sound track.

Luckily the van had been left unlocked and she opened the back doors, climbing in and pulling Shag in with her.

Letting go of his hand, she crawled over and shut the back doors.

Now that she had nothing to tune out, Shag’s shallow, panicked breath was the only thing she could hear. She turned back and looked at his pale face, “Shag wha-what do you need me to do?” She crawled back over to him and grabbed both of his hands but he pulled them away. He cradled his head in his hands, still failing to breathe properly.

Daphne felt like crying and screaming and having her own panic attack but she would be leaving Shaggy alone. And that wasn’t an option.

“Sh-Shags look at me wh-what’s wrong?!”

She placed both of her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look at her face. His brown eyes were tearing up and were darting all over the place, almost refusing to stay focused on one thing.

As he tried to speak to her he seemed to be speaking fast in his head but it came out in a jumbled mess that he could barely squeeze out through panicked wheezes.

“W-We...sh-she’s- we’re never- gonna find her......Sh-She could - She could be dead!! A-and we’re gonna be......m-......my parents are-......they’re gonna kill me.” Daphne shook her head, her eyes were probably tearing up just like his.

He kept going on and on to the point that it looked painful for him to try and talk to her, to barely string these sentences together.

She couldn’t stand to see this, to see Shaggy, her Shaggy, losing himself and she couldn’t think of anything to do. She watched his eyes that seemed to examine every detail of her face.

Those eyes always made her happy.

She loved those eyes dearly, and couldn’t stand to see them so terrified.

What would she do to protect those eyes?

Maybe a better question is what wouldn’t she do for those eyes to stay safe.

Nothing.

There is nothing she wouldn’t do to protect those eyes, and the perfection they belong to.

Everything suddenly felt warm, not just the space around them but they themselves felt warm. A nice, comforting warmth, like the kind you get from a hug. But the kind of hug you want.

It had taken Daph a few seconds to process where this warmth was coming from.

And then she remembered that a few seconds ago she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Shaggy’s, which I guess is typically classified as a kiss. 

They stayed in that position for a while, Daph’s hands resting on his cheeks as they both relaxed. At that moment, neither of them wanted to move at all because then that would mean they’d either pretend this never happened or talk about it.

Eventually that warmth had to fade, so Daph pulled away gently.

Not nearly brave enough to open her eyes and look into that face.

She noted that his breathing seemed to be evening out which was good. She slid her hands down his cheeks and let them rest on her knees.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she opened her eyes and was quickly welcomed by the shocked face of her good old friend Shaggy. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, clearly trying to process the events that had just conspired.

“Wh-....What?” Daph flinched and bit her lip.

Shag was quiet again for a few seconds before saying, “W-Why the hell....Why did you kiss me??” Daph’s heartbeat picked up and she felt her cheeks go red. ‘Because I’m so freaking in love with you to the point that it physically affects me and I hate it but I think I’d go crazy without it.’

That was the first answer that popped up in her head and it was a little too over eager and on top of that it included the stunning revelation that she was in love with him.

Something even she herself was not aware of.

“I-...I just...I don’t know!! Isn’t that just what you do in the movies?? I-I just....you know figured since kissing is more powerful than modern medicine.” She blurted that all out a lot louder than she needed to but it’s the thought that counts.

Shag shook his head, “You tried to end my panic attack by like using something only Disney would think of?” Daphne rolled her eyes, her cheeks still feeling hot as ever.

“Well it worked didn’t it? Look at you! You’re all cool and okay. I mean....are you doing better?” She rested her hand on his shoulder, her voice quickly becoming concerned. He let out a sigh and leaned his head back so that is was rest on the back of the front seats.

“S-Sorry, it was just a little too much all at once.” She shook her head.

“Don’t apologize unless you did something wrong.” He chuckled and looked back forward toward her, good lord those eyes are back, “Shags, we’re gonna be fine, you know that right? It’s always gonna be okay no matter what happens. And even though we may have been wrong about Nat this one time that-....that doesn’t mean we won’t find her at all.” 

She held onto his hand gingerly and stroked it with her thumb.

“She’s gonna be okay Shag’s, we’re always gonna be okay.”

He stared down at their intertwined fingers and nodded slowly.  

Daphne smiled, “Now we could either stay in here and wait for Velma and Freddie, or we wait for them back in the school.”

“Like, staying here’s good.” 

Nodding, she relaxed her position, not letting go of his hands.

For the next few minuted they just sat in that familiar, comfortable silence waiting for their friends to return with the next plan.

The main thing on Daphne’s mind during that time was, out of all the kisses she’d experienced in her life, which was a lot; this one was definitely her favorite.

[recentnews18-blog]

New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/30-movies-worth-watching-in-seattle-this-weekend-nov-15-18-2018/

30 Movies Worth Watching in Seattle This Weekend: Nov 15-18, 2018

Widows is a damn fun thriller from an artsy director.

You’ve got many options for movie thrills this weekend, from Steve McQueen’s spectacularly cast Widows to the creepy/comedic classic Beetlejuice. For artsier fare, don’t miss Frederick Wiseman’s new documentary on small-town America, Monrovia, Indiana. Follow the links below to see complete showtimes, tickets, and trailers for all of our critics’ picks, and, if you’re looking for even more options, check out our film events calendar and complete movie times listings.

Stay in the know! Get all this and more on the free Stranger Things To Do mobile app (available for iOS and Android), or delivered to your inbox.

Beautiful Boy I’ve never been a parent or a junkie (yet!), but I found a lot that resonated in Beautiful Boy, a low-key film based on a pair of interconnected memoirs from father and son David and Nicolas Sheff. David (Steve Carell) chews himself up over son Nic’s (Timothée Chalamet) spiral into meth and heroin addiction, asking what he could have done to prevent it and wondering how he can fix it. Nic, meanwhile, copes with not only his body’s betrayal but with the disappointment he feels, both self-directed and from his patient, confused father. From Beautiful Boy’s perspective, Nic is really only guilty of having a curious mind, while David, a good father in every recognizable way, might have simply waited too long to show his beloved son some tough love. The performances make the whole thing sing. Carell and Chalamet both do expectedly good work, and they’re matched by Amy Ryan as Nic’s mother and Maura Tierney as his stepmother. Beautiful Boy is driven by the real-life horror of watching a loved one succumb to drugs, but it’s a family drama devoid of most of the genre’s manipulative qualities, substituting them with honesty, empathy, and fully drawn human beings. NED LANNAMANN Meridian 16 (Regal) & Oak Tree

Beetlejuice Newly dead Adam and Barbara Maitland aren’t down with the Deets family, who moved into the couple’s home after their unfortunate passing and don’t seem at all phased by the Maitlands’ attempts at scaring them out of it. Enter rotten, pervy Betelgeuse (“Beetlejuice”), who sells himself as a bio-exorcist capable of getting rid of their living pests, though he turns out to be a dangerous nuisance who’s more trouble than he’s worth. Tim Burton’s first film (and my first Tim Burton film, too) is on-point with vibrantly weird visuals, quick-witted comedy, and strong before-they-were-big-stars performances from (goddamn he looks young) Alec Baldwin, Geena Davis (extra dimply, woman-next-door funny), a teenage gothed-out Winona Ryder, and Michael Keaton at his comedic one-liner-throwing best—like, has he ever been this good? It’s bizarre yet delightful and still tons of fun three decades later. Even the dated special effects retain their charm. LEILANI POLK Central Cinema Friday–Sunday

Bohemian Rhapsody I heart Queen. The song this film is named for was on the soundtrack of my youth. But early reactions to the film biopic (that’s more about Freddie Mercury than the British rock band he led) have been mixed to bad. The New York Times’ Kyle Buchanan tweeted that Bohemian Rhapsody “is a glorified Wikipedia entry but Rami Malek plays Freddie Mercury (and wears his wonderful costumes) with incredible gusto.” Our own Chase Burns was not a fan at all. (“The 15-minute long shit I took during the middle of the movie was more nuanced than the straight-washed hagiography peddled in that movie theater.”) In sum, enter at your own risk. LEILANI POLK Various locations

Boy Erased This film features the most prolific twinks of our time: Troye Sivan, Lucas Hedges, and Nicole Kidman. These three gays will dazzle the screen in this year’s most star-studded gay flick—oh wait, Troye Sivan is the only gay among them. Lucas Hedges has said he’s “not totally straight, but also not gay and not necessarily bisexual,” and Nicole Kidman, despite being the world’s most famous twink, is surprisingly a 51-year-old Australian woman. While think pieces on Hedges’s sexuality will probably dominate the conversation around Boy Erased, it looks like a cute holiday movie about gay conversion therapy. Go see it! CHASE BURNS SIFF Cinema Uptown & Meridian 16

Can You Ever Forgive Me? In Can You Ever Forgive Me?, Melissa McCarthy stars as real-life best-selling biographer Lee Israel. But this isn’t a life of literary glitz and glamour that you’re imagining after such a juicy introductory sentence! After falling on hard biographer times, Israel turned to a life of writerly crimes, forging letters from long-dead authors to make just enough cash to pay her rent, take her cat to the vet, and aggressively drink. This all sounds sad, I know, but there’s warmth underneath, thanks to Israel’s friendship with the charming, equally self-destructive Jack Hock (Richard E. Grant). McCarthy, who’s made a career of portraying loud women, is a different kind of jerk here—a real person who lashes out not for laughs, but because life is hard and she knows she’s making bad choices. ELINOR JONES SIFF Cinema Egyptian & AMC Seattle 10

Cinema Italian Style The Cinema Italian Style is a weeklong SIFF mini-festival featuring the best in contemporary Italian cinema. This final day, watch Euphoria, about two very different brothers who come together in difficult circumstances. SIFF Cinema Uptown Thursday only

Dr. Seuss’s The Grinch If you’ve ever wondered how the jammy vocals of Benedict Cumberbatch would sound coming from a neon-green Seussian monstrosity, you have your chance in this visit to Whoville. This time, the Grinch has a doggy sidekick named Max. Angela Lansbury voices the Mayor and Rashida Jones does Donna Lou Who. Various locations

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald Twee hunter Newt Scamander returns for more J.K. Rowling-inspired exploits. Of the previous Fantastic Beasts film, critic Bobby Roberts wrote: “It is eager to please and amaze, but undersells its spectacle until that spectacle becomes perfunctory. It milks sentiment drier than the Arizona desert Newt’s trying to get to. It’s a goofy blast of kid-lit in love with Looney Tunes-inspired adventure—except when it’s a sour metaphor for child abuse and intolerance that owes one hell of a debt to Stephen King’s famous prom queen.” The new one has Johnny Depp as the titular dark wizard. Various locations

First Man The space stuff is great. When La La Land director Damien Chazelle’s biopic about Neil Armstrong focuses on NASA’s insanely ambitious and dangerous plan to put a man on the moon, it thrums with thrill and threat—from the astonishing scope of space to the claustrophobic confines of the command module, the best parts of First Man are worth experiencing on the biggest screen possible. Ryan Gosling offers an excellent turn as Armstrong, but even Gosling can’t liven up the story’s more pedestrian elements, which largely involve Armstrong’s relationship with his wife (Claire Foy) and his stoic mourning of his daughter. First Man bears the familiar curse of the biopic—it somehow feels both overlong and unsatisfying—and never quite escapes the shadow of The Right Stuff, Philip Kaufman’s remarkable 1983 film that told a similar story with more grace and smarts. Still: the space stuff is great. ERIK HENRIKSEN Meridian 16 & AMC Pacific Place

Free Solo This highly praised, dizzying documentary reveals the heart-stopping journey of Alex Honnold as he conquered Yosemite’s El Capitan wall without ropes or safety gear. You don’t need to be a climber to be thrilled at this glimpse into human accomplishment. Various locations

Hep Cats Cats in movies have symbolized everything from elegance to curiosity to evil, but sometimes they are simply their wonderful selves. Hep Cats delivers a handful of these ailurophilic flicks, like Harry and Tonto, a charming road movie about a man and his cat forced to leave their Upper West Side apartment. It stars Art Carney, who won an Oscar for the role. JOULE ZELMAN Northwest Film Forum Saturday only

HUMP! Film Festival The 14th Annual HUMP! Film Festival, the world’s biggest and best porn short film festival, premiers in Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco this November! After the opening festival concludes its run, HUMP! will hit the road in 2019 and screen in more than 50 cities across the U.S. and Canada. HUMP! invites filmmakers, animators, songwriters, porn-star wannabes, kinksters, vanilla folks, YOU, and other creative types to make short porn films—five minutes max—for HUMP! The HUMP! Film Festival screens in theaters and nothing is ever released online. HUMP! films can be hardcore, softcore, live action, animated, kinky, vanilla, straight, gay, lez, bi, trans, genderqueer—anything goes at HUMP! (Well, almost anything: No poop, no animals, no minors, no MAGA hats.) DAN SAVAGE On the Boards

Meow Wolf The adorably named Santa Fe artist collective Meow Wolf caught the fancy of George R.R. Martin, who helped them take over a disused bowling alley for an epic art exhibition. But success comes with its own struggles. Enter their world and find delirious, DIY inspiration. Northwest Film Forum Thursday only

Mid90s Mid90s tells the story of 13-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic) who, after he’s rejected and bullied by his older brother Ian (Lucas Hedges), finds new role models in a crew of skaters led by the wise and magnanimous Ray (Na-kel Smith). Stevie’s willingness to repeatedly fall on hard concrete as he tries to maneuver a skateboard that looks half his height endears him to his newfound friends. The resultant feelings—and the film’s title—places Mid90s squarely in Hill’s nostalgic memory, where he both dramatizes and idealizes the kids’ adventures. SUZETTE SMITH Various locations

Monrovia, Illinois The amazingly prolific documentarian Frederick Wiseman (Ex Libris, In Jackson Heights, National Gallery, and 40 more films!) explores a tiny American hamlet steeped in old farming traditions and periodic ceremonies, like church services, Town Council meetings, Freemason rituals, weddings, and funerals. Northwest Film Forum Friday–Sunday

Mystery Train Exactly one year ago, I was walking down a street in Memphis, Tennessee, when I had what is known as a Proustian experience (or what literary critics call an “involuntary memory”). But in Proust’s novel Remembrance of Things Past, the involuntary memory sends the narrator, Marcel, to a town he visited as a boy (Combray). My memory, which was triggered by crossing a street, sent me to a film, Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train, which is set in Memphis and concerns young Japanese lovers who are obsessed with American popular culture. The couple walks around Memphis a lot. And while I walked around Memphis, I found myself walking, not through my Memphis, but theirs. This movie does not have much of a plot. CHARLES MUDEDE Grand Illusion Thursday only

Narcissister Organ Player The feminist body-shocker Narcissister, who carries out her performance art mostly naked and masked, muses on her Moroccan, Jewish, and African American roots and her intense relationship with her mother in this absurdist, experimental documentary. Northwest Film Forum

Night Heat They proliferated in anxious postwar America and still occasionally return to brood and smolder onscreen: films noirs, born of the chiaroscuro influence of immigrant German directors and the pressure of unique American fears. Once again, the museum will screen nine hard-boiled, moody crime classics like this week’s Night of the Hunter, one of the most unusual and thrilling films ever to come out of Hollywood. The veteran actor Charles Laughton took inspiration from the stylistic extremity of German Expressionism to film this hallucinatory tale of a psychotic preacher pursuing two young children who know he’s murdered their mother. Clear your Thursday night schedule for this one. Seattle Art Museum Thursday only

Night on Earth Five cabbies and five passengers around the globe share funny, weird, and intimate moments in Jim Jarmusch’s quirky classic—a little inconsequential, but charming and beautifully acted. Thanks to Roberto Benigni’s performance, you’ll never look at a pumpkin quite the same way again. Grand Illusion Thursday only

The Old Man and the Gun Based on a true story, the latest from David Lowery (Ain’t Them Bodies Saints) reteams the filmmaker with Robert Redford, who plays Forrest Tucker, the charming, handsome leader of a trio of geriatric bank robbers. Forrest’s partners in crime are Teddy (Danny Glover) and Waller (a fantastic Tom Waits). Like one of Forrest’s disarmingly polite robberies, The Old Man and the Gun starts out pleasant and sweet before revealing hints of darkness—each of these characters is deeper than they first appear, and one’s never quite sure what any of them are going to do next. Lowery is happy to tag along, capturing lives that are polished by time and dented by experience but remain bright and sharp with wit and passion. Watching Redford have this much fun is, as always, a goddamn delight. ERIK HENRIKSEN Admiral Theater

Overlord While carrying out a vital pre-D-Day mission, a ragtag bunch of American Dogfaces stumble across a small French village that’s just packed to the rafters with secret Gestapo experiments. (Note: In what may be a controversial move in this day and age, the Nazis are unequivocally depicted as the Bad Guys.) Genre mashups are often content to rest on their high-concept laurels, but this J.J. Abrams production is very willing to do the grunt work, solidly establishing its war movie bonafides—an early paratrooper sequence is genuinely alarming—before transitioning into full-tilt body horror. (This is an extremely moist movie.) If this sounds even remotely like your sort of thing, Overlord’s combination of heavy artillery and horrid creatures should prove to be pretty irresistible. When it comes to B-Movies, nasty, brutish, and short all count as positive traits. ANDREW WRIGHT Various locations

Ponyo You can pretty much guarantee that anything with Hayao Miyazaki’s name attached to it will be superbly wrought, fantastically animated, and delivered with a fine dose of poignant storytelling. He has left a fine legacy of films in his (no longer retired, for now) wake, including Ponyo, which has its 10-year anniversary this year and is being celebrated in a series of screening events across the country. This anime fantasy is loosely based on The Little Mermaid (Hans Christian Andersen’s version, not Disney’s), about an austere, potentially malevolent warlock/sea king whose young amphibious daughter runs (swims) away from her home. Sosuke, the little boy who scoops her from the waves, believes she’s a goldfish, names her Ponyo, and introduces her to a small slice of his world before her father finds her and brings her back to their underwater kingdom. But Ponyo’s taste of food and friendship fuels her next escape, setting off a chain of events that will change her (and Sosuke) forever. This film gets me choked up every time. LEILANI POLK SIFF Cinema Egyptian Saturday only

Prospect Is this the first major work of Northwest science fiction? Indeed, it imagines a moon that is like the evergreen forests that surround Seattle. The whole planet is green—gothic green. And the light on this strange moon is sharply slanted like Northwest light. The superb film is about prospectors (a father and daughter) looking for a root-made gem that will make them rich. The daughter, however, is keen to get off the planet because the line to it is about to be shut down. But her father is money-mad. If he does not make it here, he will never make it anywhere in the galaxy. Translucent insects float through the air. There are other money-mad prospectors in the endless forest. You do not leave this planet without paying a big price. Money is the root of all evil. CHARLES MUDEDE Meridian 16

Sadie The latest from local filmmaker Megan Griffiths (Lucky Them, Eden) has a perfect Northwest feel. Sadie is 13 and lives with her mother in a dilapidated trailer park. Sadie worships her absent father while being impossible with her harried mother. She is smart and precocious, trying to come to an understanding of how the world works, but the adults around her have their own problems. The film shows the way adults communicate with kids, never talking to them directly, trying to fool the kid and themselves. This leaves young people with half-ass ideas, and they run with them without really understanding the situation, with mixed results. The film has a great cast: The wonderful Melanie Lynskey plays the mom, with Sophia Mitri Schloss as Sadie. GILLIAN ANDERSON SIFF Cinema Uptown Sunday only

Seattle Turkish Film Festival The Turkish American Cultural Association of Washington will present the sixth annual edition of their community-driven, volunteer-led festival featuring a rich panorama of new Turkish films. For the final weekend, check out Something Useful, an intense drama about two women, one of whom has a grim mission, who meet on the train; The Legend of the Ugly King, about the Kurdish actor/director Yilmaz Güney; and Taksim Hold’em, about a man determined to play his weekly poker game despite the massive anti-government protests taking place outside. SIFF Film Center Friday–Saturday

SHRIEK!: Thirst The class focusing on women and minorities in horror is back with a screening and discussion of Park Chan-wook’s Thirst, about a saintly Catholic priest transformed into an insatiable blood-drinker and sex fiend by a risky medical experiment. Here’s an excerpt from the review Lindy West wrote at its release: “Thirst is a horror movie, albeit a silly one. Actual scares are few to none—instead, Sang-hyun’s painfully earnest consternation at trying to live as an ethical monster (losing his priestly virginity, daintily sipping a comatose man’s blood straight from the IV) make it a funny, cartoonish, and strangely sweet fable about ethics versus instincts: ‘Is it a sin for a fox to eat a chicken?’ Unfortunately, Thirst drags on for a punishing gazillion hours—ethical monster shacks up with manipulative harpy and the complications pile up like bodies (because, you know, they literally are bodies)—and you feel like you’ll never see your home or your mom or the precious golden sun again.” It might not be the most positive of reviews, but you’re guaranteed to get a good discussion out of it with organizers Evan J. Peterson and Heather Marie Bartels. Naked City Brewery Sunday only

Suspiria Call Me by Your Name director Luca Guadagnino’s reinterpretation of Argento’s film Suspiria is a precisely choreographed mindfuck, and progressing through the film’s six acts feels like peeling off layers of an onion until you reach the reeking core. It’s swift, brutal, and breathtaking, but it’s also frequently bogged down by overcomplicated subplots and distracting details. The original premise remains the same—ancient ballerina witches trying to live forever by sacrificing students—but this time around, the Markos Dance Academy is located right next to the Berlin Wall in post-World War II Germany, and Susie Bannion (a very meh Dakota Johnson) is a runaway Mennonite from Ohio. Whatever parallels Guadagnino hoped to draw between the traumatic aftermath of the Holocaust and the bloody chaos going on inside the coven ends up feeling more confusing than profound. CIARA DOLAN AMC Pacific Place & SIFF Cinema Uptown

A Star Is Born If you’re entering the theatre simply desiring a couple solid musical numbers, then your $15 will not have been spent in vain. Unfortunately, the movie falls flat as only a two-dimensional vignette of common misogyny can. Ally, the lead character played by Lady Gaga, is a woman who knows she has talent but needs to hear that she is sufficiently pretty to be an appropriate vehicle for said talent. Like any woman vying for a piece of the proverbial pie, she is just one man away from success. One man to lead her, to mold her, to push her through to the finish line. This man-shaped void is filled by her father, her husband, her manager, her producer, her choreographer, and her photographer, all of whom take credit or receive credit from other men for her creative output and appearance. A Star Is Born is a classic tale, meant to be mutable, fluid, to adapt within each age it is reimagined. But the flaws of the inherent narrative are too real, too every-day damaging to continue being told in the form of a cinematic fantasy. KIM SELLING Various locations

Voyeur Presents ‘The Prowler’ The November edition of VOYEUR brings “one of the bleakest noirs ever made,” Joseph Losey’s The Prowler, about a man who’s determined to get what he feels society owes him—an unhappily married woman played by Evelyn Keyes. Scarecrow Sunday only

Widows Arriving a week before Thanksgiving, Widows is an overflowing plateful of entertainment, piled high with juicy plot, buttery performances, and plenty of sweet genre pie. It’s a mash-up of pulp and prestige that shouldn’t work well on paper but plays out tremendously well on-screen. Director Steve McQueen (12 Years a Slave, Shame) cowrote the twisty script with novelist Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl, Sharp Objects), and while the interconnected webs of Chicago’s crime underworld and its racially charged local politics contain more than enough intrigue, the performances are what’ll grab you. I mean, just look at this cast: Harry (Liam Neeson) leads a crew of career criminals (including Jon Bernthal and Manuel Garcia-Rulfo) in a heist that goes disastrously wrong, leaving their widows Veronica (Viola Davis), Linda (Michelle Rodriguez), and Alice (Elizabeth Debicki) with a serious problem when crime boss Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry) and his enforcer brother Jatemme (Daniel Kaluuya) demand they return the stolen money. The real fun is watching McQueen, Flynn, and this ridiculously large talent pool of actors lay the groundwork for a slick, rich, tantalizing thriller, and then connecting all the dots. NED LANNAMANN Various locations

Also Playing: Our critics don’t recommend these movies, but you might like to know about them anyway.

The Girl in the Spider’s Web

Instant Family

Nobody’s Fool

The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

Venom

Stay in the know! Get all this and more on the free Stranger Things To Do mobile app (available for iOS and Android), or delivered to your inbox.

Source: https://www.thestranger.com/things-to-do/2018/11/15/35633515/30-movies-worth-watching-in-seattle-this-weekend-nov-15-18-2018

[trinadenning413-blog]

The Biggest Myth Regarding video game Exposed

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[powerproofgirl]

Writing horror is weird: you’re basically inviting strangers to listen as, for hours, you try to scare the hell out of them. And best case scenario, when you’re finished with them, they’ll anxiously await the next time they can pay for the privilege of being scared by you. Honestly, the whole thing sounds like some cultish mind-control . . . horror story. Or like people waiting in line for a roller coaster with “death” in its name.

In horror, storytelling’s golden rule—“if you get their attention, you better have something to say”—goes niche: if you get their attention, you better send chills down their spine. And let’s face it. We’ve all seen Silence of the Lambs. Pennywise has been revived. Hell, a new generation of kids is growing up on Goosebumps and, now, Five Nights at Freddy’s. And then there’s the news. Suffice it to say, your average modern consumer of American media is a little jaded to the same-ole, same-ole scare tactics.

To build an effective horror story—or a thriller, suspense, fantasy/sci-fi, or nongenre literary story with horror elements—it’s important to know how you want to scare your readers, what your main characters are supposed to evoke in one another, and how your basic approach to content should reflect those goals.

What Type of Fear?: Looking at the Hero-Villain Relationship

What exactly do you want your readers to feel? Should they be set on edge/nervous about the unknown? Terrified of how a known diabolical horror will be applied this time, to Character X? Afraid of time running out? Incrementally and subtly terrorized by a force that reveals its destruction in spread-out scenes and with stealth? Scared of a person, creature, or force that seems so completely unhinged that the worst of the worst is practically guaranteed?

If you don’t find the answers coming easily, it may help to refocus on two of the main pieces of any good pulse-pounder: the protagonist and antagonist. In horror, as in other genres, their relationship boils down to what they bring out in one another. In one of the most prominent classic examples of this relationship, the villain finds the hero to be a worthy opponent—a challenge—and escalates instances of violence and terror to “play with” the hero. The hero, in turn, has to manifest a heretofore untapped level of courage, often being cornered into moments of hellish introspection along the way. (As exemplified by one duo that, even as they have played Genre Twister over the years, dabbling in everything from slapstick comedy to slick action to dark thriller, have maintained that basic dynamic: Batman and the Joker.)

In horror, there’s one basic stipulation that goes with their dynamic, whatever precisely it is: the villain should want to scare the hero—and the hero should be scared. It’s very hard to make your reader feel any fear if the protagonist doesn’t. Literary Psychology 101: your protagonist is your reader’s proxy. So . . . well, if that dude isn’t worried, why should I be?

But what type of fear? And what kind of courage does the hero need to push through?

If the hero-villain dance is one of maleficent versus benevolent genius, the hero may be terrified that an equal-to-or-greater-than mind is working for the dark side. And may need to unearth a courageous self-trust and the ability to stay calm in the face of battlefield chaos. If the baddie is a repugnant fanged troop from the army of the undead, the hero’s courage doesn’t necessarily need subtle psychological flavor (though it can certainly be fun to inject unexpected intricacy into a zombie/werewolf/vampire/etc. story); these heroes need the basic courage to confront creatures that can kill them, quickly and nastily.

Should You Go for Gore?

It’s an age-old issue in horror and genres that incorporate horror elements: Do you need blood and guts to sell the fear? And for that matter, does going gore actually make readers’ fear spike, or does it just make them squeamish? For some, revulsion and fear may be sibling emotions; for others, gore is off-putting enough to be a deal-breaker.

When you’ve figured out what you want to make your readers feel, your overall approach to shiver-stirring content should unfold naturally:

If you intend a given nemesis to be repulsive, so that readers—and other characters—experience a distinctly visceral aversion, let your readers see him shed blood, hear him dragging his feet through puddles of it, feel him retrieving tools of the trade from the body remains tiling his basement. Engaging and offending the senses paves a steady path to repulsion.

If the horror vibe you’re going for is more psychological, gore isn’t necessary. Actually, not just “not necessary.” In these cases, gore is typically a distraction; use of it beyond the infrequent and well-thought-out variety can lead to an inconsistent tone that undermines your story.

Questions to Build a Bloodcurdling Bad Guy

What would positively ice one’s spine in real life won’t necessarily make a ripple in fiction; even if your villain is slaying strangers with a machete . . . well, the horror and oddball horror/comedy worlds have both seen plenty o’ machete killers. What makes this one different? What makes this one somebody you wouldn’t simply run from in the real world—where, let’s face it, we’d all run from threats of a much slighter scale than burly folk with big knives—but someone who stalks your peace of mind right through your suspended disbelief?

If you have created an engrossing world with believable characters and a setting that fascinates, you can rely on those very elements to convince your reader the bad guy is BAD.

Ask yourself these questions:

How does the bartender react to your villain sitting down for a drink? (Rushing to get it even when the place is packed; dropping the ice scoop; responding with a halting stutter even when the villain’s own words seem, on the surface, pleasant, etc.)

If the villain’s family and/or friends are part of the story, how do they react? Family breeds familiarity and motherhood tends to breed overlooking even heinous flaws. Is your villain so fearsome that his mother’s hand shakes when she cuts a slice of pie for him, their dialogue stilted from caution on her part and passive threats on his?

How do strangers react to your villain? If you need to convey some grotesque deformity or scar, it can be effective—before you ever describe it—to show a stranger turning around to see the villain and gasping. Recoiling. But even if the villain wears no visible mark of evil, others could still sense something’s off and start toeing the line, breathing more deeply, checking around the room to make sure their loved ones and prized possessions are accounted for.

Is there someone in the villain’s life who is not afraid? In Red Dragon, Francis Dolarhyde/The Tooth Fairy/The Great Red Dragon gives a variety of characters a variety of reasons to quiver before him, but his romantic interest, and blind coworker, Reba McClane never fears him. Is there a character who has good reason to miss what makes your villain fearsome? If so, it can serve as a powerful contrast, and deepen characterization by hinting at how things may have been different if it weren’t for a certain feature the world can’t look past but this one character can. Better still, this can allow you to gradually escalate circumstances to the point that even Character X becomes terrified of the villain—not only showing how vile the villain has become, and how hope for redemption has been lost, but also provoking in the villain an unprecedented degree of rage and vengeance.

How do others act when the villain “does her thing”? Regardless of whether your villain uses a hook, sword, gun, or more everyday and subtle weapon to effect destruction, there’s a moment when the villain starts doing that thing via which she’s earned her reputation, and how people react is important. Think not so much in terms of standard movie-screen reactions (running, crying, pleading, etc.) but in sudden contrasts of character (grown-ups wetting their pants, the resident tough guy cowering, people who have just been fighting over a civil dispute suddenly helping each other take cover) and extreme self-protective measures in which the frightened character risks—even welcomes—lesser injury (getting splinters under one’s fingernails from scratching the wood floor while being dragged away; jumping from an absurd height and breaking one’s legs; rushing into a forest, a cave, the hideout of a vicious gang, etc., for comparative safety).

By asking yourself these questions, you’ll help establish your villain as a truly terrifying presence that rings in the memories of horror fans for years to come.

An experienced book editor can assist you in making your scary characters their most frightsome, your hero believably brave, and your surrounding characters and settings conducive to punching up the fear. Contact me at editor@powerproofgirl.com or via the web form on this site for a consultation and sample edit regarding your novel, nonfiction book, short story or poetry collection, or shorter work.

How to Scare Your Readers: Writing Effective Horror Writing horror is weird: you’re basically inviting strangers to listen as, for hours, you try to scare the hell out of them.