#HiNt! Its about football club and people in it

[estethuet]

jesus on a bike the way this fucking thing makes me never want to say or even read about it FUCKING CHILL ITS JUST A TV SHOW YOU LUNATICS

[inuyashaluver]

Firstly wanted to say thank you for your fics, they NEVER disappoint 🫶

And I wanted to request something with Grace Clinton, maybe a soft/hard launch with a non-footballer gf?

girlfriend - grace clinton

grace clinton x reader

description: in which your girlfriend is tired of keeping the love of her life a secret, thus, you get a special invitation to her debut with her national team

warnings: nothing really!! not proofread because its me

a/n: STOPPP, thank you so much for the love and support you are so incredibly sweet, please enjoyyyyy, i'm rusty like don't mind me AHHAHAH, clearing out my drafts and requests as we speak!!

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you and your girlfriend, grace, long story short are soulmates. you have known grace pretty much your entire life and have never felt such a huge amount of love for anyone as much as you did with her. 

grace has always been in love with you, she doesn’t remember a time where she hasn’t been. and that just sums up your entire relationship, completely and utterly in love.

—

you and grace have known each other ever since you were 7. you were both placed in the same class at school, grace known for her class clown personality while you just smiled at her antics while working on your studies.

you two gravitated towards each other quicker than ever expected, being the best of friends until you were both 17 and grace finally asked you to be her girlfriend. an absolute surprise to not only the both of you, but everyone else around you. 

while grace was playing football, you were her biggest cheerleader on the side, her ‘lucky charm’ as she loved to call you. you did absolutely everything together, the best partner for life.

in your adult lives, you moved in together, grace playing football while you were in veterinarian school. it worked so well, it was so effortless, so easy and it was absolutely the best.

—

you had the privilege of being able to travel around the uk as grace joined different clubs, and grace was so incredibly grateful for you. 

something to know about your girlfriend, she was incredibly private. grace hated the thought of you being a secret but she was so protective.

she often had nightmares of you being found by crazy friends and getting harassed, and that was why she kept you private. her work and social life completely separate.

you didn’t mind it, you and grace were secure amongst yoursleves and within your relationship to not find it offensive. you both loved each other and that was all that really mattered.

all her teammates, your friends and family knew about your relationship and knew how much you meant to each other, and that was enough for both of you.

there were subtle hints here and there, people knew grace had a partner, she just didn’t want to give anyone details. both of your instagrams had soft hints towards your relationship, but nothing too obvious or completely out there.

you would come to every match without fail, always waiting for her at the end of the match.

—

she spots you sitting in the stands, clad in her jersey with a proud smile on your face as you watched her sign things and take photos with fans. she felt herself grow shy at the pure look of admiration on your face.

when people began to leave, she smiles over at you, you smile at the girl, nodding your head flirtily as she gave you a cheeky wave with a wink.

she gestures to the tunnel, meaning to follow her to the back later on. you nod, laughing at her cheeky antics, you pucker your lips up jokingly and she rolls her finger in a circle to hint for you to hurry up so she could say hello.

you wait for her in the carpark, perched up against your shared car, she rushes out excitedly, clearly out of breath but she smiles so brightly when she sees you, her most favourite person in the entire world.

you open your arms out to her expectantly and she walks into them with a relieved breath, hugging you around the middle tightly.

“hi, baby” she whispered in your ear, her lips giving you a subtle kiss on the shell of your ear. “hi, gracie girl”, you chuckle, rubbing your hands up and down her back before you pulled apart, puckering your lips up at her teasingly. she smirks, her hand cupping the underside of your jaw to pull you into a loving kiss. 

“i missed you” she breathes out against your lips, you smile, pecking them, “i missed you too, baby, two hours is way too long” you chuckle mockingly, kissing her a little longer this time.

she smiles in the kiss, drawing you in closer with her hands on your waist, “two hours felt like two days” she mocks, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as she walked you to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for you and closing it once you were seated.

“you played so well today, gracie baby” you smile at her when she puts her seatbelt on, she grins so sheepishly, cheeks pink no matter the time or place when it came to you.

“cause you were there” she shakes her head in your face, kissing your lips tenderly before she grabbed your hand to hold as she drove.

—

when grace got transferred to tottenham, things fast tracked. 

“baby, it’s only fair” grace groans, flopped on top of you as you were under the covers in the early hours of the morning. “gracie, i love you, but please, no” you beg, speaking up from under the blanket.

she sighs, smushing her face into your stomach over the blanket, “babe!” she yells, muffled by the blankets, you rip the blankets off your face, giving her your best scowl when she looked up at you from the movement.

“please, no, it’s too early” you exclaim, grace smiles at you, clearly amused by your attempt at anger on your features. “you got to pick dinner, and the movie last night” grace reminds, “i knew you let me pick because you wanted something,” you tutt, shaking your head.

she gasps, her hand clutching her chest, “i would do no such thing!” she moves up to straddle your waist as you hold yourself up by your elbows.

“my ass” you whisper, letting your girlfriend press a sweet kiss to your lips, “please” she pouts. her hands moving the blanket off you to hold your waist, kissing you again. you hum against her, clearly her little plan had worked.

“please come to training” she whispers, her words fluttering over your lips. you roll your eyes fondly, nodding and letting your girlfriend kiss your cheeks repeatedly, pulling you up from the bed excitedly.

the girl had already picked out your clothes, that’s how confident she was that she could get you to come to training with her. her separation anxiety was real.

you laugh when you see the ‘clinton’ hoodie on the top of the pile of clothes, shaking your head but putting it on anyway.

and when you both arrived at training, and you were seen in the training video wearing that hoodie, the questions and speculation were growing tenfold. who was this girl grace brought to training?

you and grace had been chatting after all the bombarding questions reached both of your phones. and you both decided, maybe it was time to put your relationship out in the open. although you both had your worries, you just didn’t want to hide anymore. 

and so after careful deliberation, you and grace would make your relationship official in her debut match for the senior lioness team.

—

grace was so jittery in her hotel room this morning, aggie had to message you that your girlfriend was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. you call her and she picks up a couple seconds after you press the call button.

“baby” she breathes out, clutching onto the phone as she talked to you, “hi, babe, you okay?” you ask her, phone on speaker as you get ready for the game. “i’m okay, just nervous” you hum at her words, “and that’s okay, baby” you remind her and she instantly calms down.

“yeah, i know” she sighs, “i miss you, i can’t wait to see you tonight” she grins, fiddling with the ends of her shorts. you giggle into the phone, “i miss you too baby, i’m very excited to see you” you both chatter back and forth before you hung up.

“i better see clinton on your back, babe, i love you!” she calls out into the phone before she hangs up, getting rushed onto the bus. you laugh, already wearing the england jersey with your girl’s name on the back. like you were a rooke, tsk.

—

you sat with her family in the stands, understanding why grace was so jittery. you watch her train and she looks pale, there’s so much riding on this. she wants to do well, she needs to do well. she needs to impress you.

she waves at you shyly when she spots you, you smile at her brightly, holding your hands up in a heart shape to make her giggle, and it thankfully works. she mimics your gesture, making you giggle as well. you both calmed down after that.

—

the match concludes and she does extremely well, the look of pride on both of your faces was infectious. you cheer loudly when they do a lap of appreciation. and like usual, when she completes her signatures and pictures and walks over to the friends and family section. 

she smiles up at you from the bottom of the pitch, ushering with her hand to come down to where she was.

you smile at her shyly, walking around others to reach her, and when you do, you don't think you’ve ever seen her smile so brightly. “hello, beautiful” she pulls you in by your waste to hug you tenderly, kissing your cheek before she rests her head on your shoulder to feel closer to you. 

“hi, superstar” you hug her tightly, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care. she pulls back to look at you, to really look at you. she may have just debut and reached one of biggest goals of her life, but you’re really the best achievement in her life.

“you’re sure about this?” grace questions, eyes flickering between your own in concern, you smile softly, brushing a stray hair from her forehead and tucking it tenderly behind her ear.

“i’m sure, lovey” she smiles at your words, breathing out happily as she took in your appearance before she placed her hand onto your jaw.

she pulls you into a soft kiss, tame for the public but so incredibly meaningful. you hear the distant cheering of everyone, but it's drowned out with feeling grace’s lips move with yours. it lasts for a couple seconds before she pulls away, resting her forehead on yours.

both of you smile, holding each other tightly, slightly in shock that you were both now official to the public. “finally” she teases, pinching your hip, you laugh, hitting her arm softly before leaning in to peck her lips.

you both see people holding up phones, chattering and talking about the two of you but you both really didn’t care. you had each other and that is all that matters.

though, what you both didn’t expect was the overwhelming amount of support you both gained out of this. the worry was honestly for nothing.

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you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily celin

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[leahwllmsn]

the reason

alexia putellas x reader

When you showed up to your first training session of the season, you weren’t expecting to see your ex-something standing in the middle of the locker room.

; some angst, happy ending though, just a bunch of miscommunication 

“Y/N! You’re here, perfect,” Jonas gave you a huge smile as he directed you towards the woman you hadn’t seen in months. “Meet our new signing!”

You swore you’d never seen Jonas smile that big during your time at Arsenal, which was understandable if he managed to sign Alexia Putellas to this damn club.

You looked at her outstretched hand, acting as if this was the first time you two met—acting as if she didn’t break your heart just a few months ago. 

At once, the memories came rushing in and you looked up to meet her eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart started to pick up its pace. For a second you were shocked at how familiar it was, to have her staring at you like you were interesting to her, but you quickly shook it off. You knew it was all a lie, a façade. Alexia was good at making people think they matter to her when she couldn't care less about anybody but herself. 

You ignored her and you ignored Jonas’ yelp of surprise when you didn’t kiss the ground Alexia walked on. You went straight to your cubby and did your usual routine.

Training gear checked.

Boots checked.

Hair tie checked.

Alexia standing next to you—

“What?” you hadn’t meant to sound harsh, or maybe you did. You didn’t really care.

Out of all the things you expected to come out of her mouth, an apology for breaking your heart, or a simple ‘how are you’ or whatever, you hadn't expected her to say, “I missed you.”

You were indifferent to her being here before (that was what you convinced yourself anyway), but now you were livid. 

“Seriously?” your voice apparently was louder than you intended because you could feel a couple of eyes on you.

“Y/N…” maybe it was hearing her say your name again after all this time. Maybe it was the way she said your name with a hint of longing when she had no right to do so after what she did to you. Maybe it was the way she was standing there within your reach after you thought that you were never going to see her again.

You think it was all of it combined that made the ache in your heart, which you’ve managed to seal tight all this time, to seep through the seams and inject itself back into your veins.

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to stare into her eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Alexia.”

You heard everyone inhale a sharp breath all at once as you exited the room. You definitely were getting an earful from Jonas but you didn’t care.

Alexia could really go fuck herself for all you care.

—

It was Leah that Jonas assigned to talk to you.

You hated it because aside from the fact that she was your captain in the Lionesses, she also had known you since you were barely in diapers, seeing as your mothers were best friends. 

You were hiding in your usual spot, the old storage room that no one used anymore. 

“Want to talk about why you were so rude to one of the best footballers on this planet?”

You scoffed. Great. Even your best friend was kissing Alexia’s ass. “She’s overrated.”

Leah sat down on the floor next to you, grabbing the back of your shirt when you went to stand up. “You’re not going anywhere, mate.”

“You can't make me talk,” you scowled at her. “I just hate her. Don’t really care if I was rude to Jonas’ newest favourite.”

Leah laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Chill out will you! You’re acting so tense.”

“I’m not tense! It’s just been a shitty morning, with her being here and all.”

“I feel like there’s something I’m missing,” Leah looked at you questioningly. “You’re jealous of her or something?

You barked out a laugh at that. That was good. “Hell no. Why would I be jealous of her? Like I said, she’s overrated.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing,” you rolled your eyes. God, why was it so hard to be moody about your ex in peace?

“If it’s nothing then you wouldn't mind going back there and being nice to her, yeah?”

“No.” 

There was no way in hell you would be nice to Alexia. No. fucking. way.

“Y/N. Jonas is counting on me to talk some sense into you, he's scared Alexia is going to resign on the first day here if her teammate is rude to her.”

That sounded like a great idea, you thought. Just as you smiled at Leah, she was frowning at you.

“Y/N. Be nice. Please. For me?”

You always did have a soft spot for Leah.

“Fine.”

—

Everyone was already at the field when you returned with Leah.

You weren't sure who witnessed your little interaction with Alexia earlier so you kept to yourself for a bit, not wanting anyone to ask anymore questions.

You got through the training smoothly and it was over before you knew it. You kept on avoiding Alexia’s gazes, trying your best to pretend that she wasn't there at all. In your mind, Alexia was still in Barcelona, right where she should be.

Not in London Colney here with you. Definitely not.

“Hola.”

Damn it.

You were putting your stuff into your duffle bag aggressively, lifting your head just for a second to glare at her. 

Alexia seemed unperturbed at your cold gaze, sitting down on the cubby next to yours so she could look up at you and catch your eyes.

You were always a sucker for her stupid puppy dog eyes.

But you were stronger now. You were.

“Y/N,” she tried again, her voice a whisper. “Can we talk? ”

You replied with a simple “No.”

“We are going to be teammates, we should at least be civil to one another, no?

“No,” you rolled your eyes, who did she think she was? “I’ll pretend you don't exist and you can do the same.”

Alexia scoffed at you. “Why are you being so difficult?”

That got your attention. “Me?” you raise your voice and Leah suddenly stepped in between you two, probably fearing that things might escalate.

“Hey,” Leah gave you a pointed look. “People are watching.”

You glanced back and people were watching, most had a curious look on their faces. No one knew you and Alexia knew each other, but everyone knew you and they knew you were anything but hostile. So this attitude might be slightly disconcerting for them.

You took a deep breath and willed yourself to calm down. You need time to process the events that happened today.

“I’m just gonna go,” you told Leah. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Not sparing Alexia another glance, you grabbed your bag and took off.

Tomorrow. You’ll face her again tomorrow and maybe you can try to be civil with her. Only for the sake of your teammates.

—

“You know… if you keep on staring at me like that, one might think you’re in love with me.”

You thought you were being discreet with your gazes towards the brunette who was sitting a few seats apart from you, acting as if you were staring at the ocean instead.

But apparently that wasn’t the case and as soon as you heard those words come out of her mouth, you choked on your ice tea and patted your chest repeatedly to stop the coughing fit. 

The brunette beside you laughed and you halted your movements to stare again because wow, the pictures really didn’t do Alexia Putellas justice.

She turned towards you and held out a hand for you to shake. “I’m Alexia.”

You accepted her hand with a bashful smile. “I know.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks, trying to play it cool with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Who doesn't know Alexia Putellas at this point? It would be weird if I didn’t.” you paused. “And I wasn’t staring at you, by the way.”

“Oh, you weren’t?” Alexia smirked. She slid into the empty seat between you and you could feel your heartbeat racing once she caught a whiff of Alexia’s perfume. A strong flowering scent. Huh. You've never thought about what Alexia Putellas would smell like, but it probably wasn’t this. It somehow made you even more attracted to her.

You nodded, playing with the straw of your drink. “I totally wasn’t.”

“Then what were you staring at?” 

“The… sea.”

Alexia laughed once more and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Her laugh was infectious.

“Okay, sure,” Alexia took a sip of her drink. “Just so you know though, I wouldn’t mind if you were staring at me.”

You hummed, pretending to be in thought. “I’d rather not.”

“No?” Alexia raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “Then you’d think I’m into you, or something.”

“Well aren’t you?”

You clicked your tongue. Her ego was through the roof. You get it though, if you looked like that, you’d think everyone was into you too. “No.”

“Your stare suggests otherwise.” Alexia smiled smugly.

You stepped down from your stool and put your hand out. “Why don’t you take a stroll around the beach with me?”

When Alexia was still staring at your outstretched hand, you motioned for her to take it. Alexia complied and let you drag her away to the shore. 

“It was getting kinda boring, wasn't it? Just sitting by yourself at the bar,” you explained, swaying your hands back and forth as you walked along the coast. “I don't know if you know me, but I play football professionally too. For Arsenal and England. I’m here on holiday with my family but they can get kind of crazy sometimes so I want to have some alone time for a bit.”

“I know the feeling. I'm here with my sister but she drives me crazy most of the time.” you laughed along with her. 

“So you’re free then,” you halted your steps. “Spend the day with me?”

Alexia gave you a huge smile and you wanted the waves to swallow you whole, because how can someone be so gorgeous?

“I thought the answer was obvious the moment I let you drag me away from my unfinished cocktail.”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“That’s okay,” Alexia leaned forward and whispered in your ear. “As long as you admit that you’re attracted to me at the end of the day.”

You gulped, the close proximity was making your head spin. “Never,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“We’ll see.” Alexia leaned back and grinned. “For now, can we go see some dolphins?”

You had already seen the dolphins the previous day. You hated it because the dolphins thought it was a good idea to splash water all over your brand new Dior bag and you swore you would never come back. 

But Alexia was looking at you with wide, excited eyes and a smile so bright that you didn’t have the heart to say no to her. So you went to see the dolphins and you did everything Alexia wanted.

The entire day, Alexia didn’t let go of your hand and you swore you had never been happier.

—

You and Alexia ended up talking to each other everyday ever since the Ibiza trip. She didn't exactly tell you that she felt the same way you did, but you figured that her constant flirting was supposed to clue you in. 

It went on for months and before you knew it, you were hopelessly in love with Alexia. 

Alexia was kind, thoughtful, she was so passionate about the sport that you both loved so dearly and you were just a goner. 

Who wouldn’t be, honestly?

It was certainly a bonus point that she was super attractive too. 

In the morning when Alexia would call you on facetime, and you were greeted with her face still full of sleep, blanket engulfing her as she recounts to you her plans for the day, you couldn't do anything but stare helplessly at how good she looked and how extra raspy her voice was. 

You and Alexia never put a label on things but you figured you were sort of… dating? Or it was a… situationship? Whatever it was, you knew it was beyond the level of friendship.

You loved your friends and you called them on the daily, but you couldn't imagine doing it to this extent. Alexia would call you in the mornings and at night. You’d call her when you got off training, you’d call her when you heard a funny joke Kyra said and you wanted to tell Alexia about it. She would call you when she got anxious because she was starting her match and her doubts of still being not good enough post ACL still haunted her.

You loved Leah, your bestest friend in the whole world, but you couldn't imagine telling her the things you told Alexia in the early hours of the morning. There were some things that you didn’t think you'd share with anyone, but with Alexia, it was… simple. It was easy. It felt right.

But maybe it was all in your head.

It went on for so long that you didn’t even think labeling it was important anymore. You were Alexia’s and she was yours.

She told you she loved you, for fuck’s sake.

She told you she loved you and one day when you were at camp, Lucy mentioned how Alexia was seeing someone.

Someone who you thought was you, but how could that be if Lucy was talking about having a double date at the best paella place in Barcelona with Alexia and her girlfriend when you were all the way in London. 

Apparently Alexia’s girlfriend was someone named Olga and they'd been dating for a few months and your blood pressure went through the roof.

A few months.

You thought you were dating Alexia for a few months (one year actually, but you didn’t give a fuck anymore).

You ignored Alexia’s call that night because, what the fuck? She had a girlfriend in Spain and you were what? Her side piece? That thought made you sick.

You didn't reply to Alexia’s messages anymore. Too hurt, too embarrassed at everything.

don’t text me again, Alexia 

I mean it

You declined all her calls and never bothered replying to her texts that were pleading to tell her what was wrong.

Eventually when weeks passed by and you still gave no response, she stopped trying.

You didn't know if you were relieved or disappointed.

—

It seemed like the universe had something against you because as soon as you got out of your car, Alexia was also getting out of her car across from you.

If you weren't so pissed off at the reminder that she was actually a part of Arsenal now, you would laugh at how comical this sight was—you scowling at her and Alexia scowling back at you.

“Bon día,” Alexia had the decency to greet you.

“Morning,” you grumpily greeted back.

You walked side by side into the building. you didn't know why, you could have walked faster, or slower, or turned in the other direction so you wouldn't have to walk by her side, but you did it anyway.

Despite only having hung out with her in person a few times during your time together/not together, you kinda missed her.

“Is this you finally being civil with me?” 

“I still hate you.”

“Okay ouch,” Alexia placed a hand over her heart, pouting at you. You continued to scowl at her, trying to hide how your heart had betrayed you and skipped a beat.

Before you had the chance to respond, you two arrived at the locker rooms. Only Leah was there, who immediately came over and sling an arm around your shoulder and grinned cheekily at you. “Best mates already, are we?”

You flicked Leah’s forehead, causing her to yelp and do the same to you. “Leave me alone, Leah,” you grumbled.

“Someone’s moody this morning,” Leah whispered to Alexia, to which the latter hummed in agreement.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate you both?”

Leah chuckled, whispering something to Alexia that you didn't quite catch. Nor did you care enough to find out. 

How funny was your life right now? Your best friend and your… something were friends. Ugh. Your ex-something, now your teammate. Ugh.

You were too caught up in unpacking your things that you didn't notice Leah calling your name.

“Y/N!” 

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“I’ve been calling you twice! Alexia distracting you that much?” Leah said teasingly.

You looked towards Alexia who was changing her clothes, leaving her in a Nike sports bra and her abs on full display. Fuck. Bad idea.

“Oh fuck off,” you quickly turned back around, feeling the heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Stop being so moody,” Leah shook her head in amusement. “You’re terrible when you’re moody.”

“Not moody.”

Leah chuckled like she couldnt believe you but she let it go. “We’re planning a welcome party for Alexia this weekend at my place. You’ll be there, yeah?”

Your reply was immediate. “No.”

“Oh I’m hurt,” speak of the devil. Alexia joined in on your conversation with Leah, now all dressed in her Arsenal training kit. Your eyes raked up and down her body. You didn’t have time to admire her in her Arsenal kit yesterday. (You wouldn't admit that it looked good on her.) “You won’t attend your own teammate’s welcoming party? Dios mío. So much for being a team.”

“Not if the teammate is you,” you retorted.

Alexia pouted at you. Leah looked like she was having the time of her life watching your interaction. “Do not be like that, darling,” Alexia teased. You badly wanted to smack her in the face. “You did say you have always wanted us to play together. Now we are on the same team and you are acting like you hate me?” 

At that your eyes bulged out of its sockets. Leah looked mostly confused. “I never said that!”

Alexia only smirked at you as she passed by, blowing you a kiss before she went off to the pitch. 

“She’s so bloody annoying,” you grumbled after her. “I never said anything like that!”

—

The first time you argued with Alexia on the pitch, it was entirely your fault. You could admit this. 

Alexia was dribbling the ball—looking so good doing it, like everything was so effortless for her, that you sort of got annoyed and went in to tackle her. It could’ve ended badly if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes.

“Oh come on! That’s a yellow!” Alexia looked genuinely pissed off, she quickly stood up, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Oops,” you shrugged, mockingly patting her cheeks. “Good reflexes though.”

All your teammates looked away as Jonas scolded you in front of everyone—not that you care, you weren’t hearing a word he said. You were too busy sending a smirk Alexia’s way. You didn’t look guilty in the slightest and that was probably what made Alexia’s blood boil.

She took her water bottle and she didn’t just spray water on you, she turned the cap and poured the whole thing on top of your head.

“Oops,” Alexia mocked your earlier words. 

Oh you were livid. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” 

Alexia leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You should work on your reflexes, babe,” before walking away. She didn’t get to walk very far before you ran after her and jumped on her back, tackling her to the ground.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do but you were so annoyed at Alexia—annoyed that she was able to get under your skin, annoyed that she was so attractive and you were still so attracted to her even though she broke your heart! It was ridiculous.

You were tackling each other on the field, and you could hear Alexia start to laugh and you realized it was because you were tickling her and Alexia was ticklish.

“Y/N! Stop! What the hell!” You sure as hell weren’t stopping now.

(It was definitely not because of how addictive the sound of Alexia’s laughter was.)

“Say sorry!” You shouted back, you were straddling her at this point, your hands still poking at her sides.

“No!”

“Alexia! Say sorry!”

“No! Get off!”

“I’m not getting off until you say sorry!”

All your teammates were watching the scene with bewilderment on their faces. Earlier, when you tackled Alexia, everyone was holding their breath, anticipating the bomb that was due to explode anytime (the bomb here being the tension created by you and Alexia being in each other’s vicinity). 

Now, everyone was just amused. You two were still taking turns straddling each other, trying to outpower the other, a scowl ever present on your face (although if one were to look closely, you did let a smile slip). Everyone thought you hated each other. Jonas was making himself go crazy trying to find the history between you, needing to find a solution to make you like each other as one of you leaving was not an option.

Now, everyone could see that you two were fine. Some unresolved tension, for sure. Full on hatred? Not so much.

—

The days passed by pretty quickly and the next thing you knew you were standing in front of Leah’s door, about to enter Alexia’s welcoming party, the one you were adamant to not show up to.

Leah then threatened to take away your PlayStation for a month to which you finally caved in with the biggest sigh and “Remember Lee, it’s not about me wanting to be friends with Alexia, okay? I literally cannot live if you revoke my PlayStation privileges!”

You entered Leah’s place with an even more sour mood than you were at training this week.

Training was fine, as always. Having Alexia there to train with you in London Colney was not fine.

(Although you couldn’t help but notice how well you and Alexia played with each other, managing to have some sort of telepathy that let you two find one another on the pitch. 

Just your damn luck.)

You made your rounds and spoke with everyone. You were less tense now, somehow having adjusted to Alexia being around.

You could see the relief in Leah and Kim’s face when they saw you weren’t trying to start fights with the new signing anymore.

So much so that they decided it was you and Alexia that had to be the one to get more beers in Leah’s pantry. You took the instructions with a scowl, Alexia trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You entered Leah’s pantry (if one could even call it that, it was spacious, Leah had more space than one living alone would need), and you were about to tell Alexia to hold the door open and not let it shut because the handle was broken and Leah still haven’t gotten it fixed when Alexia shut the door closed.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Guess we’re stuck here.”

—

After both of you had tried your luck by pulling the door handle and nothing seemed to work, you two settled on the floor, sitting on opposite ends of the room.

You were scowling at the blonde, who was looking everywhere but you, a guilty expression on her face.

“This is all your fault,” you were sulking. You both stupidly didn’t bring your phones and you couldn’t call anyone for help. “This is all your fault,” you repeated.

“I told you, I’m sorry,” Alexia mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest. You hated that she looked like a kicked puppy.

You sighed. Maybe you were being too harsh on her. “I’m surprised there hasn't been an uproar online with you leaving Barcelona,” you changed the subject.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you, not expecting you to start another conversation apart from telling her that being stuck here was Alexia’s fault. “It hasn't been announced yet,” she clarified.

“Well, goodluck,” you felt bad for her. Just a bit. “They’re going to rip you apart for that. Unloyal, how you downgraded, and all that.”

Alexia let out a big sigh. “I know. I have prepared myself for it. The goodbye video is a good one though, it was so emotional, I even cried. I just hope people understand.”

You looked at her, you still couldn’t understand her. “I thought you loved Barça? You are quite literally a carbon copy of Leah with Arsenal.”

“I did. I do. I love the club with all my heart, you know that.”

When you didn't reply Alexia continued.

“There were a lot of factors, to put it simply. Financials, is one. I didn’t like that in order for me to receive more, someone has to get less. We won the Quadruple, we won a lot of fucking things for the club, there should be enough money going around. Anyway, I won’t go into detail because it is a lot more complicated than that. Then there was going to be changes, with Jona leaving and all. I didn’t like where it was headed.”

Alexia took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to leave everyone behind, but I felt that it was for the best. They still have Marta and Patri so I’m leaving them in good hands.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you murmured, now feeling guilty for your behaviour towards her ever since she got here.

Alexia turned to look at you and gone were the wistful look in her eyes. She looked serene—if that was even possible after leaving the club of your life.

“Then you were also a factor, definitely,” Alexia said so softly that you might have missed it. “I didn't know why you were suddenly ignoring me, I feel like I definitely did something wrong because we were fine one day and not the next. I want to apologize for whatever it was. I really do miss you.”

You could only look at her as you processed her words. Your loud laugh broke the silence “Me? You moved to shitty Arsenal because of me? Please be serious.”

Alexia laughed at that. “Don’t call your club shitty. I think it’s quite a good club. With an interesting league.”

“If you're comparing it to Barcelona—“

“I like it here so far,” Alexia interjected. “You should be proud of your club.”

“Of course I am—”

“And you’re here so it’s definitely a bonus point.”

“No, no, wait, just pause,” you ran your hand through your hair as you took a deep breath. What the fuck was going on. You stood up and started pacing the floor, Alexia looking at you expectantly. “You,” you pointed at her. “Moved to Arsenal, to bloody London,” you waved your hand around, “because of me?” you pointed at yourself in disbelief.

“One of the reasons, yes.”

“No!”

Alexia looked taken aback at your outburst, her face showing that she was amused at you. “What do you mean no?”

“No as in you're lying.”

“I’m not lying,” she rolled her eyes at you. 

“Yes, you are.”

Alexia mumbled some Catalan you didn't understand and stood up, inching closer to you. When she was about to take your hand, you immediately pulled away, “Stop,” you warned her, “you have a girlfriend.”

“What?” Now it was you who was taken aback by her outburst.

“I know all about your Spanish girlfriend,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “So cut it out.”

“I don’t have a Spanish girlfriend?” Alexia was confused and you were too, but you know she has a hot, Spanish girlfriend somewhere in Barcelona and it was igniting the rage in the pit of your stomach.

“Lucy told me that you went on a double date with her and Ona. While we were together,” you scoffed. “So not only do you have a girlfriend but you cheated.”

“What!” Alexia looked at you like you were crazy. “Cheated? Sí, I was in love with you, but we were never together?!”

Your jaw went slack at that, how could she?

“Never together- all the daily calls and texts and the I love you? Jesus, Alexia. What was all that?”

Realization seemed to dawn on her face at the same time as yours. There was a chance that… Alexia didn’t think you were together when you thought otherwise…?

“I didn’t—” Alexia sighed, shaking her head. “I thought we were friends!”

You groaned, palming your face. Oh my god. This must singlehandedly be the most humiliating point in your life. You were heartbroken over someone who didn't think you were together? “What kind of friends—”

“Okay, okay,” Alexia stepped closer to you, her hands reaching out in an attempt to touch yours. “Lo siento. I really am.” You let her touch you, Alexia immediately holding your hands and running soothing circles with her thumb.

“I didn't know you felt that way towards me, honestly,” Alexia continued. “I was trying to forget you, so I went out with someone for a bit but it was nothing serious. I—wait, was that why you stopped talking to me?”

Still feeling the embarrassment, you pulled your hands from her grip and began walking towards the door. Before you remembered that you were locked in. Great.

Alexia caught up to you, essentially blocking your path. Not that you could go anywhere anyway. 

“Y/N,” Alexia gave a small laugh and you frowned at her. What was so funny about this? “You thought we were together?”

Your frown deepend even further, hearing her say it out loud was so, so embarrassing. “Yeah, whatever, go ahead and laugh at me.”

Alexia turned serious at your tone. “I am not laughing at you. I promise,” she took your hands in hers. “I think it is… cute. We both suck at communication. I’m sorry.” Alexia brought your hands up to her lips, pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. 

You wanted to die, in a good way. But you were still so embarrassed about this whole thing, so you remained quiet.

“I was in love with you,” Alexia clarified. “Still am. But I did not know that you feel the same—“

You groaned. “I don’t call my friends 24/7 or end everything with an ‘I love you’. Of course I was in love with you!”

“I am oblivious, I know!” Alexia laughed. “Sorry! But you never clarified things.”

“I thought it was obvious,” you pushed her shoulder halfheartedly. “If we were to date and you do those things with someone else, I would be concerned.”

“Never,” Alexia placed her hands around your waist, having you essentially pressed against her. “Sorry again about everything.”

“You should be,” you whispered, the close proximity making your heart beat wildly against your chest. “You broke my heart without knowing it.”

“Won’t ever do it again, te prometo,” Alexia rested her forehead against yours. Alexia filled all your senses and you were overcome with a wave of contentment. “Just so we are clear… you like me in a romantic sense and you want to date me, romantically, yes?”

You could only roll your eyes, grabbing her by the neck to pull her in for a kiss.

Suddenly the door flew open, causing you two to break apart. It was Leah, a bewildered look on her face with a screwdriver in hand. You didn’t even realize she was trying to open the door.

“I thought you two hated each other?!”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn't get the chance to, not when Alexia grabbed your jaw to turn you towards her and placed her lips back on yours.

“Seriously?!”

You heard Leah muttering curse words as she slammed the door shut and Alexia giggling against your lips at the same time. You were the most content you had ever been.

—

bonus:

When you and Alexia weren’t throwing snide remarks at one another, people started to look at you weirdly, apart from Leah, obviously, who was sporting the biggest scowl on her face.

You didn't get a chance to talk to her after she caught you, your best friend prying the door open once more then left without a word, trying to act like a good host and preparing unnecessary foods and drinks for everyone. Basically, she was ignoring you.

You've known Leah all your life and you knew she was pissed that she was kept in the dark about your… developments with Alexia. To be fair, the developments did happen a few minutes before Leah got the door to open, so you didn't really have time to tell her.

Plus, you hadn't told her about how you and Alexia were sort of together but not really for a year and you knew Leah would be even more pissed that you decided to omit this from her. You loved Leah for it though. You knew she meant well. She was very protective over you.

You knew better than to approach Leah when she was like this, opting to leave her to brood in peace for a few days.

You would tell her about Alexia eventually, never really one to keep secrets from her. 

At the thought of Alexia, you instantly had a smile on your face.

You two were back to the way it was before—regular calls and texts, only this time you could meet each other for coffee in between the time you weren’t calling or texting each other.

This time, you two were on the same page. You were in love with each other. No one else. And you were dating each other—no one else.

Training became… eventful. 

Not only were you and Alexia civil, you two were making jokes with each other. At one point, you even managed to hug her discreetly, when no one was around—or so you thought anyway.

“Whoa.”

You instantly pulled back at the voice, it turned out to be Mariona, Alexia’s Spain teammate.

“Since when is La Reina a hugger?”

“Shut up, Mario,” Alexia glared at her, although you could see the small smile on her lips. “We are dating. Of course we hug. Just be thankful we were not in the middle of making out or doing something worse.”

What?

You could only stare at Alexia in shock, mouth hanging open. Mariona was the same, she was catatonic.

Whatever you were expecting to come out of Alexia’s mouth, it wasn't that.

“I think you broke poor Mario,” a voice chimed in from the doorway. “I was the one who walked in on their making out session,” Leah continued, stepping into the room. “That was pretty traumatizing.”

Leah was looking at you with that glint in her eyes, one that told you all was well. “You still mad at me Williamson?”

Leah scoffed. “Oh please. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I didn’t tell you Ale and I were a thing, and because you had to walk in on me being all over her- in my defense, have you seen her? How could you not want to jump her bones—”

“Okay, nope!” Leah closed her eyes with a grimace, trying to burn the memory away. “Please, please keep it in your pants.”

You shook your head fondly at her, moving forward to engulf her in a hug. “Dinner at my place tonight?”

Leah pulled back and placed the sloppiest kiss on your cheek. “Sure, darling. I know you’ve missed me!”

“Lee! What the fuck!” Leah was giggling and you were shooting daggers at her. Alexia was looking at the both of you with amusement on her face. 

Mariona suddenly burst into laughter, taking everyone by surprise. “This is gold,” Mariona said in between her laughs. “So I am not the only one who moved countries for a girl?”

Alexia looked genuinely offended at the accusation. “I did not move here because of a girl!”

You wrapped your arms around her waist, “Oh you so did, babe. That’s okay, no one is holding it against you. I am pretty hot.”

Alexia was about to counter your statement when Mariona chimed in, an ear-splitting grin on her face, “I am going to go tell everyone about this.”

“What- no! Mario!” Alexia went to chase after the brunette who had made her exit. You could hear their voices echoing throughout the hall. “I moved here because of a lot of reasons, you know this!”

“So,” Leah kicked your shoe to get your attention. “Alexia, huh? Didn't you say she was overrated?”

“Shut up.”

[jamiesfootball]

When I finished reading The Beautiful and Damned, I had a fuckton of thoughts about it. I even started writing an essay about it.

But then I had people come over for dinner and I was tired and I never finished the essay nor do I remember where I was going with it. Since then it's just been crowding up my drafts.

So here is the first part of what was going to be that essay. From here on out I'll just add bits as they come to me.

(Side note: I have not changed it from my original essay format at all. Have fun with that)

I have just finished reading The Beautiful and Damned and BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ON HOW IT RELATES TO JAMIE.

Another long one for you, folks.

[Charlie meme]

First of all let’s just admit and accept that I have officially dedicated more time and thought into this book choice for Jamie than the writers likely did. Got it? Good. Now I’ll start with the painful admission—

This book on its surface isn’t actually a bad choice for Jamie. The book anywhere below the surface is an awful choice for Jamie, and I despise it as a choice for him.

If we’re looking at it from Ted’s and the writers’ perspective (presuming the writers’ had one), I can see why Ted chose this book. There are some clear parallels between Jamie and the main protagonist, Anthony Patch. Both are wealthy and live the sort of shameless lifestyle that comes with it. Both have a choice in partner that supports the image of that lifestyle. Both have a clear superiority complex – though it stems from different things (Anthony Patch, classicism; Jamie, actual talent).

Neither character shows any indication of forethought as to what their life will look like in the future.

As a cautionary tale, the book makes sense. Here is someone else who wasted their life and chances because they were so invested in the perceived future they thought they were owed, that they neglected to do anything of meaning with their present opportunities.

From the writer’s perspective, there is even an amount of foreshadowing to the choice with regards to the upcoming hints they would show about Jamie’s dad. Because Anthony Patch doesn’t just ruin his life, in doing so he becomes a temperamental, angry, emotionally abusive alcoholic. So it’s a cautionary tale in two folds – not just in regards to his lifestyle but also the possibility that Jamie on his current path may eventually become someone who repeats the cycle.

But.

BUT.

Even from the beginning, there is big, BIG discrepancy between Jamie and Anthony Patch that even Ted, not knowing much about Jamie at all, should have been able to pick up on, and that is that ANTHONY PATCH HAS NEVER HAD A REAL JOB IN HIS LIFE.

The Anthony Patch’s of the world don’t become professional footballers. They don’t become professional anythings. Anthony’s whole arc is spent waiting for the good thing to happen to him, and in doing so squandering the many, many opportunities he was given.

Whereas when we first meet Jamie, he has already seized the good thing for himself.

And here’s where the rest of the essay was going to be. Whoops.

[something something interesting coincidence that at some point Anthony refers to “his last club – The Amsterdam”]

Potential talking points regarding Ted’s books of choice for Roy, Jamie, and Sam, including but not limited to: target audience, lesson given, lesson needed, prose style, ease of prose, ease of lesson, additional obstacles (vocab, triggering subject matter), the -isms, relatability, effect on character

The Keeley of it all (how dare you, Ted)

[semper-legens]

66. Proud, ed. by Juno Dawson

Owned?: No, library Page count: 336 My summary: A girl and her phoenix ponder their marriage prospects. A trans boy on a LGBT+ football team face trials on and off the pitch. A choir sings Firework and finds their voice. A pair of girls find love among the graffiti. Tales of young people, tales of LGBT+ people, tales of hope. And above all, tales of pride. My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

This is not my first time reading this collection. The last time was on a train home from seeing my brother, who lived in Birmingham at the time - the trains were cancelled and delayed and cancelled again, and it was a very unexpectedly long journey. I remember that I pulled this out of my bag while on a rail replacement bus for the last leg of the journey, and got weirdly emotional about it at like midnight on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. This reading…made me far less emotional, let's put it that way. While I liked it overall, with a bit more clarity I can see some of its flaws a bit more clearly, which I'll talk about under the cut.

So overall, I liked this collection, but I felt like something was lacking for me. All of the stories felt just a little too 'safe'. Most were about LGBT+ kids who were accepted by their friends and families without fanfare, most were cozy in some way. One that was explicitly about the struggles of coming out acknowledges from the off that the kid's family would not have a problem with it. And I'm not exactly going to be claiming here that all LGBT+ stories have to be all doom and gloom, that there can be no cozy romances for LGBT+ people, because that would be silly. But this collection tended towards the saccharine as a whole, and I think having a few more murky stories among them would have balanced the rest out a lot better. (Then again, I acknowledge that this collection is for LGBT+ teens, and I am 28. So any opinion I have here has to be taken with a grain of salt.) As ever with short stories, I'm only going to talk about some of them in detail, so here we go!

The Courage of Dragons was a rare one set not in the contemporary world but a sort of mythic China, where young women are chosen by phoenixes and the emperor wishes to take one for a bride. The protagonist struggles over this, as she does not want to marry the emperor even though it would represent a great social advancement for herself and for her family. This is resolved when another girl from nearby runs off with her phoenix, which is actually their phoenix, and the two realise their mutual attraction. I liked the playfulness of this story, in particular the silliness of the phoenix's name, as well as the woven-through idea of the two girls' professions, a herbalist and a lantern-maker. It made for some neat imagery, and their story of self-discovery is both interesting and engaging.

The Other Team was a charming story. It's about a trans kid in an LGBT+ football club, full of misfits and outcasts who, on the whole, are pretty bad at football. I liked that aspect of it! The story wasn't a trite heartwarming affair where the scrappy underdogs fought like hell to win the match, it was a more realistic look at a kid playing football for fun with his mates and just wanting to be accepted for who he is. I like that the attitudes of the straight team are changed a little in an understated and subtle manner, and that there is no fairytale ending, but you leave with a sense of satisfaction nonetheless. It was cute, and I liked it.

Love Poems to the City was one of the latter stories in this collection, and to my mind one of the best. It details a girl unsure of herself as many teenagers are who falls for a girl because of the graffiti on the walls telling her to go for it. There was an air of magical realism to it, which I really enjoyed - the graffiti itself goes unexplained, and it's ambiguous as to whether it is actually supernatural or not. It's a cute story which, again, succeeds for having a hint of darkness to it in my mind.

Next…sorry. I swear this is my last bit of FNaF.

[misiwrites]

Mayblade Day 4

[previous: chapter 1 & 2 | chapter 3]

CHAPTER 4 prompt: sci-fi characters: hiromi, emily, ayaka, kyouju, max, mao pairings: ---

Just to please Emily, Hiromi had agreed to go check out the tennis club. She made no promises of joining, but they headed out to the courts together nevertheless. For being a relatively small school, Bey High had a surprisingly extensive sports park, and the club catalogue boasted everything from cycling to swimming and indoor surfing, somehow.

In the course of one afternoon of following her friend around, Hiromi had been introduced to Emily’s acquaintances in the baseball, basketball, and football clubs, all of whom felt it necessary to give her a robust sales pitch about their respective sports and club activities (each of which was the best, according to them). She’d done a bit of basketball in middle school but certainly didn’t have the confidence to jump in to play with the likes of Eddy and Rick – there was no separate team for girls, as there were none in their club – so she let them all politely know she wasn’t interested.

“How do you know all those guys, anyway?” she asked once she and Emily were back at the tennis courts. “I didn’t know you’re the type to hang out with… well… jocks like that.”

“We’re all in the enhancement program. We usually hang out when the tests are being taken.”

“Oh, that weird science stuff?”

Emily shot her a dangerous look. “It’s not weird! It’s very good. We get a lot of useful information out of it. The program has already helped me improve my training habits.”

Hiromi vividly remembered Emily herself calling it weird, back when the physics professor had pitched the state-funded, science-based enhancement program in the beginning of the semester. The name alone was fishy as hell.

“Are you sure you’re not on track to steroids or something?” she asked.

“Oh please, we’re not doing drugs or anything,” Emily huffed. “It’s about collecting performance data. I would trust Mrs. Judy with my life – she’s a remarkable scientist.”

Emily rarely praised the teaching staff, so this was borderline alarming behavior from her. Hiromi side-eyed the ginger but said nothing more.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. With the void in her daily life left by the astrology club, Hiromi ended up taking Ayaka’s offer to go check out the engineering club.

Having witnessed the sports club facilities and now this, she had to admit that Emily had been on to something with her hints about their lack of proper clubbing spaces. The engineering club operated in the electronics laboratory and had full access to all its resources, resulting in the room looking like the research floor of some hi-tech facility. Hiromi hadn’t had any idea the other clubs had such lavish surroundings.

The members present were working in pairs by the lab tables. One pair, Hiromi recognized as friends of Salima and Kane, a couple of boys from 1-B whose names she’d never bothered to catch. The other pair, in the very back of the room, also had familiar voices that she couldn’t quite place as she walked closer, following in Ayaka’s footsteps.

“And these two are the real sci-fi boys,” Ayaka presented. “I don’t know what they think they’re making, but it sure is something.”

So it seemed; the lab table was littered with equipment and evidently 3D printed mockups that Hiromi couldn’t even begin to describe, as well as three computer screens flashing with graphs, code editors, and something that had to do with the measurement equipment plugged in with half a dozen cables crisscrossing across the table. They really were actually creating something, not just sitting around reading books like she’d been doing all semester.

The boys – who even wore lab coats, for immersion, she assumed – were roused out of focus by Ayaka’s announcement and wheeled around in their chairs to look at their interrupters. It was only then, Hiromi realized, that she’d seen these people around because they were Takao’s friends; the shorter one who now lifted his enormous, round glasses to his forehead, Saien Manabu who didn’t live too many blocks away from her house; and the other, a blond boy with a thoroughly goofy face and a pale nose covered in freckles, turned to study Hiromi with curiosity.

“Hey there,” the blond gave a cheery greeting. “Another friend of Aya?”

Hiromi, troubled as to how exactly answer this, was saved by Ayaka: “Tachibana came to take a look at our club. Now’s your chance to give the pitch of your life and get someone uninterested to join, Max.”

“Well, I’m not going to force anyone, if she really isn’t interested. I’m Max and that’s Professor.” He nodded at the shorter boy.

“You are in Takao’s class, are you not?” Manabu – or, apparently, Professor – immediately surveyed.

“Um, yes I am. So what are you working on? Looks complex.” She was eager to not let the conversation steer towards him.

“Oh, just a little something… It is for an innovation contest so we cannot reveal too much.”

“Don’t want anybody stealing our secrets,” Max added with a finger over his goofy mouth.

All the parts were out in the open here, though. Not that they made much sense to Hiromi like this, scattered across the table; there were several octagon-shaped pieces with a hole in the middle, as if frames to something. Judging by the breadboard and electronics measurement equipment, they were working on something powered by electricity.

“Are you looking for a club to join?” Professor then inquired. For such a tiny guy, he had an awfully mature and formal appearance, sporting a shirt-and-tie attire under the oversized lab coat.

“Not really… or, kind of.” Was she? She could as well have been.

“If you like comics or games more than building things, I am the president of a couple of those. They are very laid-back clubs, you can come over to read or play something as you wish, if you join that is.”

“Thanks…” She did like some comics and games… but the idea of going to a clubroom to do one among strangers instead of in the safety of her own room, not so much.

Hiromi did give it a minute of serious consideration, however, until a shouting voice cut right through her train of thought and left her perplexed.

“Aaaaayyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!”

Something very pink had just emerged into the electronics lab. A girl with bright pink hair and baby pink clothes barreled herself in Ayaka’s direction, which also happened to be Hiromi’s general direction.

“You’re early,” Ayaka commented, her cool demeanor the opposite of this bubblegum pink burst of energy.

“Hi, Mao,” Max greeted the new girl, though with more politeness than cheer, Hiromi noted. Professor had slipped his glasses back on and was back to work already in silence.

“Hi, mayo boy. Eh, I’m like, ten minutes early – so what? I can see you’re not doing anything, anyway.”

“I was showing our club to Tachibana.” Ayaka gestured at Hiromi, and she was quickly beginning to feel like a test subject presented to each human in turns. “She’s looking for one to join.”

“Please, just call me Hiromi,” she managed to rectify, finally.

Mao gave her a scrutinizing look from head to toe. Or, at least, it felt scrutinizing to Hiromi, who felt so very plain compared to this eccentric girl with a cat ear hairtie in her head. “I see! So, you thinking of joining the engineering club?”

“Erm… Probably not. I don’t think this is my thing…”

“Well, if you wanna try something completely different, I’m in the wushu club.” Mao must have noted the thinly veiled horror on Hiromi’s face, for she added: “Oh, don’t worry, there’re no requirements for joining – if you’re a total beginner, we’ll teach you the basics of whatever art interests you. It’s fun! And you’ll learn it fast, I promise. Anyway, Aya, I’m starving! Let’s get going already!”

With that, the pink whirlwind grabbed the short-haired girl, and then they were both gone.

[bizarrepotpourri]

Behind the Scenes: Unlucky Thirteen

[Previously on: Special Officer 432 in General]

Like I said in the previous post, the stories were originally posted on A Certain Website and inspired by its users. So, let's dive into the first one, "Unlucky Thirteen".

And since we'll be discussing crime, death and hornyposting again, all the details along with a link to the story on Pixiv are under the cut.

Important info: you can access the link only if you set explicit material to be shown in your Pixiv settings. For a good reason.

The person whom I offered a role in the story wrote a thing or two herself, and bouncing the ideas between us I arrived at the general concept I described in my previous post: a Kingdom based on Great Britain, but where capital punishment wasn't abolished after the obvious miscarriage of justice that was the case of Ruth Ellis.

Now, I do understand that the users of A Certain Website value their privacy and don't reveal where they're from - unless they slip and include something geographically specific in their photos or their automatic translator/autocorrect has a hiccup - but when that inevitably happens, I can hint that I spotted it, dropping a local reference in a story I wrote for them.

While the story hinges on a knee-jerk legal act introduced due to media fearmongering and desperate "tough on crime" vote baiting that obviously doesn't work as intended but gets people into trouble over technicalities, something the UK is rather notorious for (from my observations - of course, I realize that they have nothing on the US in this regard), the rest isn't as British as you would expect. The concept of drug-dealing football hooligans does sound fairly British, but I was in fact inspired by late 1990s/early 2000s Poland - the quote under the full version of the cover image contains multiple references to local organized crime from that time, mostly , along with a very specific reference to one of the local football clubs that I won't explain - like I said, If You Know, You Know. Enough that some locals figured out only half of it outright and caught on the other half later.

I also set up some foreshadowing in the first paragraph, mainly to depict the Officer as well established in her profession and having seen a lot - not just pop culture tropes and generalities like "greedy trophy wives", "homeless junkies" and "Capital City gang members", but references to actual cases as well. While "elderly serial poisoner" sounds like a reference to things like "Arsenic and Old Lace", I had two actual serial poisoners in mind: Nannie Doss and Louisa May Merrifield (although Merrifield wasn't exactly "elderly"). "Country cannibal" is based on the Australian murderer Katherine Knight, although I'm gonna put a disclaimer here: I'm not going to write a story about her. Sure, I can imagine it, and that’s the problem: we’d be dealing with an ogre of a woman with anger issues that would require four guards to subdue her and most possibly a straitjacket, and that’s just not my style. Which leaves me with the "depraved murderer barely out of high school" - an idea that sent me into a most distracting rabbit hole of writing down important-sounding legalese outlining the next story, when I was only halfway through "Unlucky Thirteen". But, more on that in the next post, now let's get back to the first one.

Since the story is set in a prison, and one of three specifically named ones, let's focus on that. Shackleton, located in the Capital region, stands in for the real-life Holloway Prison, with the execution chamber based on stills from "Pierrepoint" and photos of a miniature reconstruction of the execution chamber in the Wandsworth prison that I found online, as it was very similar to the one depicted in "Pierrepoint". The idea of a black curtain separating the preparation area, however, comes from an article about the Fallbeil installed in Katowice prison during the German occupation of Silesia during World War 2 - well, that and it's aimed directly at the users of A Certain Website. I know, it's awkward and I depicted the preparation rooms in the other two prisons as slightly more practical, but I don't feel like doing retcons on this one.

And finally, a bit of general trivia: I write my stories in English first, and then translate them to Polish - mostly because I find translating from Polish to English awkward and often come up with English puns or turns of phrase that are a nightmare to translate to Polish (for example, the taking/giving head wordplay in my old story "Swift Justice" that I had to rephrase entirely in translation), but here, I came up with a translation of the phrase "handcuffed, hysterical and in a world of trouble" that sounds even better in Polish - literally "in handcuffs, in panic and in trouble".

[ibtk]

Book Review: Stephen McCranie's Space Boy, Volume 6 (2020)

The one where we finally discover Oliver’s flavor!

— 3.5 stars —

A long-running weekly comic on WEBTOON, Stephen McCranie’s SPACE BOY is teased as “A sci-fi drama of a high school aged girl who belongs in a different time, a boy possessed by emptiness as deep as space, an alien artifact, mysterious murder, and a love that crosses light years.”

The MC is Amy, a sixteen-year-old girl who’s pretty normal except for the fact that she’s an unwitting time traveler. Born on a mining colony, her family was forced to return to earth when her father lost his job. Since it’s a thirty-year journey, Amy and the ‘rents were cryogenically frozen for the trip: hence the “girl out of time.”

The family settles in Kokomo City, where Amy enrolls in South Pines Academy. Though she misses her BFF Jemmah (now old enough to be Amy’s mom; could this be the “love that crosses light years”?), she soon finds her own new social circles: football star David, his girlfriend Cassie, and their friends Zeph, Meisha, Maki, Logan, and Howard; and the school’s agriculture club, which includes fellow crossover Meisha, and Tamara and Shafer.

And then there is Oliver, the mysterious, silver-haired boy who does not seem to have a flavor. (Amy has synesthesia and “tastes” peoples’ personalities.) Though her friends think he’s trouble with a capital T, Amy gravitates to Oliver, and vice versa. But for reasons not yet revealed, Oliver’s very existence is classified – and their continued friendship endangers Amy’s life. Enter: the alien artifact and mysterious murder.

Volume 6 collects episodes 76 through 92 of the WEBTOON comic, originally published between 8/24/16 and 12/15/16 (yes, the trade paperbacks are very far behind! Do yourself a favor and create a WEBTOON account so you can stay up to date.)

One thing I don’t love about the trade paperbacks is that the plot seems to progress at a snail’s pace, and Volume 6 is no exception; 256 pages and we’re still not done with Spirit Week! Still, this is an enjoyable and bittersweet collection.

Volume 6 sees Oliver continue to distance himself from Amy, while fissures deepen among some of Amy’s friends. Amy gets to experience her first snowfall – and snow day! – for which mom thankfully yet temporarily lifts her grounding (that’s a whole ‘nother story). Amy finally discovers Oliver’s flavor (orange with hints of cinnamon, brimming with passion and vibrancy and life – the complete opposite of Nothing) – revealed, oddly enough, as he’s beating the piss out of a bully. Before she can even begin to process, Oliver and his foster dad Dr. Kim vanish, just as mysteriously as they arrived.

The agriculture club’s baby chicks make a quick cameo, as part of Tamara’s efforts to lift the spirits of a mopey Amy. My feelings about the ag club are something of a roller coaster: initially I was overjoyed that Amy made the connection between the soft, floofy, sentient creatures she was loving on and the chicken salad sammie on her plate, and vowed to go vegetarian. This quickly crumbled when she got an accidental mouthful of bacon on Oliver’s sandwich and decreed that it was fine, so long as the agriculture club doesn’t start raising baby piggies. Speciesist much?

And the very existence of animal agriculture so far in the future feels like a disappointing lack of imagination of the artist’s part. When I first started reading SPACE BOY, I thought it had to be at least 30 years in the future, to allow for Amy’s travel. Probably more like 100+ given all the new tech. But when Amy starts researching the Arno and its mission to reach the alien artifact, we learn that the year is actually 3355: The Arno launched in 3051, and was supposed to reach the artifact in 300 years – which, for Amy, was 4 years ago. 3051 + 300 + 4 = 3355.

So you’re telling me that it’s more than a thousand years in the future and we don’t have synthetic or lab-grown meat yet? That we’re still breeding and raising sentient creatures to be slaughtered for food? That our morals have evolved so little? Gross, dude. If this is the future, I hope humanity burns itself out well before 3355.

But yeah, baby chicks are hecka cute.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Dancing Around You

Day 31, Post #2 by @adenei

Title: Dancing Around You

Author: adenei

Pairing: James x Lily

Prompt: First Date

Rating: T 

TW: Some language and mentions of past abuse.

a/n: inspired by the scene in In The Heights when Vanessa and Usnavi go to the club.

*****************

I walk into the corner shop in my neighborhood and see James, Remus and Sirius talking by the counter. The scene causes more annoyance to course through me, which probably stems from the shit mood I’m already in. James and Sirius are supposed to be working, since this is their job. And why isn’t Remus at the broadcast station across the street at his own job?

So what if James owned the shop after it was left to him when his parents passed? Work is still work, and he shouldn’t be skiving off while on shift. I’ve busted my arse day in and day out for the last three years so I could save up to rent a flat in Camden to pursue a career as an interior designer. Moving out of Peckham to a more centralized location will help put me on the map as a well sought after designer.

But that was all for nothing. I’ve just returned from my meeting with the realtor, and despite having enough rent saved up for a whole year, plus the security deposit, he waved me off as if I belonged in the slums! The twat said I needed someone to co-sign a lease with me. Tears sting my eyes as I’m reminded once again of how alone I am. Having walked out at seventeen to escape my parents’ emotional abuse for the last seven years, I had no one to turn to despite the close-knit neighborhood I lived in because this was a secret goal that no one knew about.

I’m sure Marlene’s mum would be more than happy to co-sign a lease with me, but I couldn’t ask that of her. Not when she’s done so much for me already. No, I just need to hold my head high and keep moving forward. I put on my business face and strengthen my resolve, so the boys don’t suspect anything out of the ordinary.

Walking over to the fridge, I grab a Fanta and a Coke for Mrs. McKinnon. When I left the office earlier for my appointment, she asked me to bring one back. Now, I have to return to my job as her secretary at her own Real Estate office and try not to resent every client who walks in the door. When I shut the refrigerator door and turn to head to the register, I see James leaning against the glass of another fridge door.

When the hell did he creep up on me?

“Evans, how’s it going?”

“It’s been better.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

For a moment, I think about letting him in. I open my mouth to say something, but change my mind at the last second.

“You wish.”

“Right, well, what are you doing tomorrow?”

Narrowing my eyes, I observe James. We’ve been friends for years, and it’s a friendship I cherish more than anything. He’s always been there to make me laugh, to match my sarcasm and wit, and he’s never been afraid to go toe-to-toe with me. I know him well, almost as well as I know myself, but I’m not expecting his question or the butterflies that flutter in my stomach in response.

I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t attractive. His perpetual bedhead, black hair and piercing yet kind hazel eyes have always stood out to me. It’s no secret that he’s fit from lifting boxes all day and playing on a club football team in his free time. But I’ve never allowed myself to think there could be anything more between us besides friendship.

So, why does it feel like he’s asking me out? Am I misreading the signs? I decide to keep the ball in his court to get a better read on his intentions.

“I’m going dancing with Marlene and Mary,” I reply, keeping my voice cool and collected.

“Oh, sounds like fun.” He glances down at the bottles in my hands. “All set, then?”

I nod, and If I’m not mistaken, his shoulders slump as he turns to head back to the counter. Should I have invited him and the guys to join us? Before I can ponder it further, Sirius cuts me off and pushes me back into the aisle.

“You and the girls are going dancing? That sounds like fun. I’d bet my buddy over there would love to join you.” He raises his eyebrows as if willing me to catch his subtle hint, which I do.

“Wait, was James just trying to ask me out tomorrow?”

Sirius shrugs. “Probably, but you two have been friends forever, and despite his smooth-talking with most females, he seems to get tongue-tied around you.”

A burst of laughter bubbles out of me. “James? Tongue-tied? Around me? What are you smoking?”

“Nothing, Evans. Just pointing out a fact.”

Fine, if Sirius is going to pester me about this, I will prove him wrong. I brush past him toward James so I can pay for the drinks and be on my way. Sliding a couple pounds to James over the counter, I smirk at him.

“You know, Potter, I could use a dancing partner tomorrow night. Pick me up at eight?”

His head snaps up, and he looks shocked before a goofy smile replaces the surprise on his face. “Er, yeah, alright. I mean, if you’re sure—”

Cutting him off, I put him out of his misery. “Great, see you then.”

The following evening, we’re walking into Alohomora, the most popular nightclub in Peckham. My friends and I frequent the club at least once a month. I love its mix of neons glowing amongst the blacklights and the worn leather benches framing the booths around the perimeter of the dance floor. It’s come to feel like a second home to me.

Dancing is an outlet for my frustrations. I love letting the music consume my soul as the loud thumps of the bass vibrate through my body as I spin on the floor. Tonight will be no different, except that James is with me. As my date. At least, I think he’s my date. Neither of us have actually talked about what this is.

“Wow, I haven’t been here in ages. Have they changed the layout recently?” James asks.

“Not that I can recall,” I wave his question off as I hear a number of people shout my name in greeting.

“I didn’t realize how popular you were here, Evans. I’m impressed.”

“Impressed by what? It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I have more friends than you three. I hope that doesn’t make you jealous.” My playful banter is accompanied by a smirk as James laughs.

“Me? Jealous? Of course not. Care for a drink first?”

“Sure.”

Usually, I’d prefer to dance a bit first, but I don’t want to drag James onto the dance floor if he doesn’t want to. I’m not even sure if he enjoys dancing since I’ve never seen him here before. He’s flagging down the bartender when someone calls to me.

“Lily! Hey, Lily!” Terry Fawcett is pushing his way through the crowded dance floor. “Wanna dance?”

He holds out his hand when he reaches me, but I shake my head.

“Sorry, Ter, I’m here with someone else tonight.”

James turns as he overhears the interaction and waves me on. He contorts his face in a weird, ‘trying to be chill, but still looks sort of pained’ way.

“It’s alright, Evans, go ahead.”

I’m taken aback. Maybe we really weren’t on a date. “But—are you sure?”

“Yeah, just save one for me later.”

“Oh, well, alright.”

My hand falls into Terry’s even though I’m not certain I want to dance with him. There’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’m not used to as I walk away from James. It’s ridiculous, but I think I’m actually disappointed that James passed me off so easily. And I’m just as mad at Sirius for even putting the thought that James might fancy me in my head because it’s all I’ve been able to think about since yesterday afternoon.

Well, there’s only one way to find out once and for all if he cares. Make him jealous.

I dance as I’ve never danced before when the music changes to an upbeat Latin tune. I spin around the floor, dancing with Terry before I’m passed off to other men that I’ve danced with once or twice in the past. It takes everything in my power to not steal glances at James, but I do catch when his baffled look turns dark as he begins to scowl at the men who are practically lined up to dance with me.

By the time he does walk out to the dance floor to cut in, I’m exhausted. He pulls me into his arms, but I’m still annoyed that he’s waited this long.

“Potter, I need a break.”

I pull away from him and walk toward the bar, where Sirius holds two drinks in his hands. I grab one and slam it down, shoving the glass into his chest once it’s empty. Then, I turn and head for the exit to get some air. It’s much quieter on the street, save for the ambient sounds of traffic in the background, a stark contrast to inside the club. I lean against the wall as I catch my breath and watch the cars go by.

The door to the club opens, and the music splits the night air as James steps out.

“Evans, what the hell was that?”

“What was what?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

What? Is he angry? Good. Let him be angry.

“You! You ask me to come with you, spend all night dancing with other blokes, and then when I try to cut in, you ditch me.”

A derisive bark escapes my lips as I push off the wall and step closer to him, matching his stance.

“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me, Potter. You’re the one who pushed me away! I would have been perfectly happy dancing with you all night, but no, you sat back and watched as I danced with everyone else.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do!?”

He can’t be serious right now, playing the victim and passing this onto me. There’s no way I’m letting him get away with this. I step even closer, thankful that my heels bring me closer to eye level with him, so it’s more of an even match.

“I don’t know, put your arm around me and tell the bloke to fuck off? That I’m taken?”

“Are you taken?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Our breathing is heavy, chests heaving as our noses are a hair’s width apart. All I can focus on is the intensity in his eyes, the gold flecks burning like the flames in a fire. I wait for him to say something, or do something, anything except stare at me. I give him more than enough time, and he doesn’t make a move, so I decide that I’m done.

As much as I don’t want to, I break eye contact and turn away. I’m not in the mood to stay out, so I begin the walk home. James and I are friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, but that doesn’t stop me from cursing Sirius for putting the thought that we could be more in my head. Because now that I’ve accepted the thought, I’m not sure I want to stay friends. But it’s clear now, this wasn’t meant to be anything special, and I was stupid for thinking it could be.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

FP//The Midnight Club (part 4)

hey! thats right, after the long awaited return, its back!!! and because i feel so terrible about leaving it for so long, the rest of the series is written too (and edited!!!), it just needs posting. anyway, i hope you like it!! and i hope it was worth the wait. seriously, thank you for being so patient, i love you all. (part 3)

In movies, Saturday detention always looks fun. Sneaking around, pouring your heart out to people you see everyday but know next to nothing about and making new life long friends. In reality, its spent doing a whole load of nothing.

You rest your chin in your hand and stare at the blank board ahead. You were the second one here, after Penelope Blossom and as soon as you walked through the door she sent you a disapproving look.

You and Penelope get on almost as well as you and Alice. She’s an annoying teachers pet that likes to write you up when she catches you and FP so much as holding hands.

The seat you chose when you got hear was a good one, near the back and away from Penelope. But then the rest of the your classmates turned up and suddenly you found yourself sat between FP and Alice, both of which were trying to kill each other with just looks. 

“Leave me alone FP.” You whisper. It’s the third time he’s tried to talk to you since he got here, and every time you’ve told him to go away. It seems finally he gets the hint and huffs loudly before leaning back in his chair.

You glance behind you to see Alice already looking at you and you send her a small, unsure smile. She just scoffs and looks down at her gloved hands, leaving you to stare at the top of her head.

“Welcome...to Saturday Detention.” Principal Featherhead’s loud but tired voice draws your attention the front of the class again and you force yourself to try and listen to whatever’s he’s droning on about, but in the 2 seconds its taken for him to let out a breath, you’ve tuned out.

It’s weird when the closest thing you have to a friend is Alice Smith. The rest are just acquaintances...and FP, who right now could be dead for all you care. You’re still not over last night. 

There’s clearly something going on between him and Alice, the more you think of it, the more it makes sense. And you’ve thought about it a lot, all of last night in fact. 

Your boyfriend knocked up Alice Smith...and then you. It makes you wonder if anybody else is expecting, you could make a little football team at this rate. 

It’s bad enough having Saturday detention, but it’s even worse that he’s here, especially when you’re running on less than an hours sleep. 

It’s just one Saturday. Eight hours, seven people with nothing in common.

Well, almost nothing.

The bad girl

“Alice Smith?”

The rebelling Catholic

“Hermione Gomez?”

The teachers pet

“Penelope Blossom?”

The artist athlete

“Fred Andrews?”

The political animal

“Sierra Samuels?”

The good girl

“Y/n Y/ln?”

And the ladies man

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones, Jr?”

You piece together the reasons everyone’s here. Alice and Penelope are here for fighting, something Alice told you about in detail last night, despite you wanting to sit in silence and watch Winona and Johnny fall in love. But you will admit...she did deserve it. 

Sierra and Hermione are probably here because they were in the bathroom just before you left, so they got caught in a wrong place, one time thing like you. The friend that you’re covering for isn’t even here, instead she’s probably in bed, or at Pop’s while you’re sat here taking the fall for her. 

Fred and FP were caught streaking, which was funny at the time. Seeing FP and Fred run down the corridor with no clothes on was a sight, made even funnier by Principal Featherstone catching them. But now you just want to slap the smirk that seems to permanently reside on FP’s face off. You have never hoped he has a hangover more.

“While you’re here today you will not talk.” Featherhead starts while making his way around the desks, handing out paper as he goes and you have to hold in a sigh. “You will not play” He says and snatches Fred’s drumsticks away, making the boy huff quietly and sit up straighter. “You will not move. I don’t even want you to breathe.”

“Charming.” Alice mutters and you stifle a laugh. Sierra clears her throat and everyone looks at her.

“Yes?”

“What if we have to pee?” She asks.

“You hold it, Miss Samuels. And at the end of the day, you will deliver a 1000-word essay as to why you’re here today.” He replies and you all let out a collective groan. “I will be right down the hall, in my office, all day long...cause I have nothing better to do.”

The clock reads 11am, meaning you’ve only been here for two hours and they’ve been the longest two hours of your life. Staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of you for so long has made your vision go weird so you  focus on the clock instead. You know why you’re here, ‘caught smoking’ is what you’ll have to write, despite the fact you were just holding it. But how are you supposed to stretch that into 1000 words?

A scratching behind you distracts you from your thoughts making you look behind you. Alice sits on the windowsill with a knife in her hand as she scratches against the wood.

“Dude, can you not?” Fred asks annoyed and she stops abruptly.

“Dude? Can you bite me?” She retorts. Fred rolls his eyes before turning back around.

“Oh, my God. Shh.” Penelope says loudly and now its your turn to roll your eyes.

“Psst. Sierra.” A different voice is a welcome distraction for all of you and everyone looks at the door, hoping and praying that its something exciting.

Tom Keller peeks his head round the door, a smile growing on his face when he spots Sierra and she quickly stands up, making her way towards him.

“Sit down. We’ll get in trouble.” Penelope scolds but Sierra ignores her.

“Tommy.” She smiles and the two of them kiss. Your eyes widen at the sight and you hear a few muffled gasps from the other students.

“Brought you some sustenance.” He says and waves a paper bag at her. She smiles again and grabs the bag from him, holding it close to her chest.

“Thank you.”

“I love you. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods and kisses him again before he leaves as quickly as he came.

“Sierra?” Fred is the first to break the stunned silence. “You and Tom Keller?” She nods and he lets out a short laugh. “Guys we’ve been going to the same school since kindergarten. How do we not know anything about each other?”

“We’re not friends. Cliques don’t cross pollinate.” Penelope replies. “Haven’t you seen Heathers?”

“Well, we’ve got six or more hours to kill, and no one to impress. How about a round of Secrets and Sins?” Sierra says, a small twinkle in her eyes as she looks at each you.

You gulp and share a look with the rest of the group, yours and Alice’s lingering for a little longer than the rest.

Sierra is the first to sit down, an excited smile on her face as she watches the rest of you reluctantly sit. Fred’s next, and then Hermione who sits beside him. Penelope sits on the other side of Sierra, FP sits next to Fred and you sit beside him, making sure to put a good amount of distance in between you. Alice is the last to sit, doing it as dramatically as she can and earning an eye roll from Sierra and FP.

“I’ll start!” Sierra says. “Tommy and I have been secretly dating for a few months now.” She admits.  

“Why secretly?” Hermione asks.

“Our parents don’t want their children dating someone so...different. To use their euphemism of choice.” She replies, the previous happy smile is long gone. It’s replaced by sadness and she looks at the old, faded carpet, trying hard not to think too much of it. 

“My mom’s all up in my relationships, too.” Hermione adds. “You know Hiram Lodge?”

“Uh, yes.” Fred replies and a few of you giggle at his response. “Dude is ripped.”

“And a petty criminal.” Penelope mutters.

“He’s a self starter who provides for his family.” She defends. “But to my mom, he’s a scrub. ‘Thats the way to to the American Dream, mija.’ But what dream? She cleans hotel rooms in that stupid Five Seasons, 16 hours a day. Hiram’s got the right idea. Get out of Riverdale. No matter what you have to do.”

“Yeah.” Fred starts. “Except...Riverdale’s not the problem. Me? I wanna stay here my whole life.” He says making Sierra laugh and you shake your head. You can’t think of anything worse. 

Although now, you just might be stuck here. You’re destined to live in a crappy trailer, barely keeping it together and watching your friends move on with their lives. Oh god, the thought alone makes you want to cry and throw up all at the same time and you let out a shaky breath. Your hand automatically moves to your stomach as you try to slow your breathing. 

“Are you okay?” Fred asks and you force yourself to look at him, faking a smile and quickly dropping your hand to your thigh.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod. FP moves to hold your hand but you quickly pull it away, sending him a scowl and he quickly retracts his hand back. Fred notices of course, but decides to stay out of it, instead looking at the old carpet. Alice rolls her eyes at the two of you and looks straight at Fred. 

“Is that how longs its gonna take you to decide between music or baseball?” She asks and Fred flips her off.

“Our minor league is solid. And we’re close enough to the city to play music gigs. This towns got it all. Could even see myself running for mayor one day.” He says, and he’s the only person in this room that you believe could actually do that.

Fred Andrews is something different. He’s friendly to everyone, no matter where they come from or what they are. He’s somebody you wish you could be more like, and you can see him changing the world someday.

“Ugh. Nightmare job.” Sierra huffs. “Why not shoot for something bigger? You can do all those things in a real metropolis.”

“Yeah. Except look after my dad. He’s sick. Real sick. And he took care of me my whole life, so, now it’s my turn.” He replies, his expression saddening and a frown appears on your own face. Tears well behind your eyes and one rolls down your cheek. It lands on your hand and your curse your hormones for making you cry.

FP reaches out again but you just shuffle further away from him, wiping your tears as you go and he lets out an annoyed sigh.

Hermione places a comforting hand on Fred’s knee and he looks at it for a few seconds, seemingly getting lost in his thoughts for a while before quickly changing the subject.

“Alice, you’re up. What’s your deepest, darkest secret?”

The tension in the room shifts. Penelope, Sierra and Hermione share a look and you watch as FP and Alice glance at each other.  

“Um...”

“Lets skip her.” You interrupt and she sends you a glare.

“I don’t need your pity Y/n.”

“Alice just tell them about the time you lit a dumpster on fire on the southside” FP says bored.

“Wait, that was you?” You ask, earning a few confused looks from the rest of the group. You remember that fire, it caused quite the rage on the Southside because the serpents thought it was a rival gang seeing as though it was right outside of the Wyrm. “...FP told me.” You add quietly.

“Why don’t you tell them that you actually live in Sunnyside Trailer Park?” She replies and for a second you freeze, thinking she’s talking about you.

“I thought you lived on Elm Street.” Penelope says shocked and you realize she was actually talking to FP.

“Yeah, of course. Because it’s what Forsythe wants you to believe. You parade around the school in your varsity jacket like a Northsider. You even got yourself a northside girlfriend to help you fit in.” She says and looks at you. “But don’t kid yourself. You’ll never escape the Southside. You’re gonna end up just like your dad.”

“Alice.” You warn. He may have pissed you off, gotten you and some other girl pregnant, but he is not his father. He never will be and you feel yourself jumping to his defense quicker than you probably would have liked.

“Downing six-packs in your double-wide.” She continues, staring straight at him.

“Maybe, but I’m not gonna hit my kid. Not like my old man hits me.” He replies and looks at you, his eyes glancing at your stomach for a split second before looking back at her. The group goes silent, no one daring to look at each other and even you avoid eye contact with him.

“Oh really? Which one?” She laughs and you quickly look up. Everyone looks up surprised, but before they can question anything Alice storms out, slamming the door behind her.

Its quiet for a few minutes, before FP takes a deep breath and continues his story.

“I told him I didn’t wanna join his gang. That I wanted to be the first Jones to go to college. He didn’t like that.” He holds up his broken wrist. He hates the way they’re looking at him, like he’s broken, like he’s a victim. But he feels better when he feels your hand resting on top of his. “I guess he sort of got what he wanted. It looks like I won’t be going anyway.” He whispers the last part, turning his hand over and holding yours as best as he can.

“Okay. I guess I’m next.” Penelope interrupts the moment you’re having but you don’t let go. Instead you shuffle closer to him, you’re still pissed, beyond pissed even, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a hug. “Fair is fair. The Blossoms. They’re...terrible people.”

“But, Penelope, you’re a Blossom.” Hermione replies confused.

“No, I’m not. Not really. I grew up at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy orphanage.”

“Oh, my God, Penelope. That place has like, violated every humanitarian code.” Sierra says.

“When I was eight, the Blossom’s came and asked to see all the red-headed children. The next thing I knew, I was leaving with them. I was so excited. I very quickly realized this was not an altruistic adoption. I was being groomed. To first be Clifford’s sister. Then, eventually, his life companion. Every second away from that house, even today, is a relief.”

“Why are you still living there?” You ask, genuinely curious as to why she would stay there.

“They’re my family.” She replies.

“That’s not family. It’s basically incest. It’s disgusting.” Hermione adds.

“At least I’m not cleaning other people’s toilets like your mom.” Penelope argues and Hermione stares at her annoyed, trying to think of an insult.

“Well, at least she has class. She’s not stealing child brides out of orphanages.” She spits and Penelope gasps.

The two of them start fighting and you hear Fred and Sierra complain before moving to separate them. FP stands and helps you up, quickly moving you out of the way and you end up backing into something much worse that an accidental punch. 

“Congratulations. You all just upped your sentence from Saturday detention...to four.”

[camsthisky]

The only things i know about the foxhole court is that its gay and they play football.

things to love about the foxhole court/all for the game series:

more than one gay character! (and possibly a character on the demisexual/asexual scale)

there are twins and both twins are assholes and don’t follow the dumb stereotype that one is nice and one is mean

the fucking angst

when is neil not bruised/bleeding/hurt

half of the stuff in this book series probably can’t happen irl but who cares nora gave this info to us and i have accepted

at one point, neil hitchhikes like two hours back to his university after going to a club, getting drugged, waking up in a strange house, and crawling out a bathroom window

kevin is the ultimate exy fan

seriously, kevin cannot go two minutes without thinking about fucking exy. to the point where when he’s in his dorm, he’s watching exy games. all he talks about is exy. even neil, mr. exy junkie, got tired of kevin going on about exy

ah yes, a bunch of young adults playing a weird made-up sport that’s a cross between hockey, lacrosse, and soccer on a university scholarship, and then suddenly: the fucking mafia

also, like, what the fuck man, three books read like seven times each and i still barely know the bare bones of what exy actually even is

neil is an asshole

andrew is an asshole

in fact, everybody in this book is an asshole except for renee and jeremy, who both deserve the world

neil and andrew’s assholery doubles when they’re together

but the amount of care for each other is literally astounding

neil letting himself be roped into going to a place where he knew he’d be hurt and abused, and he did it all for andrew

andrew giving neil a key to the house

that fucking scene, in wymack’s apartment, where neil is fucking terrified and he finally admits that he’s not okay

“Help me.” // “Let me.”

neil being oblivious to the hints both andrew and wymack are giving him

“andrew’s right. it’s above my paygrade.” or whatever the fucking line is

“i asked,” neil says multiple times, not lying for once in his life, and yet the people around him can’t fucking believe it

neil accepting the fact that he’s probably gonna die and yolo-ing it and deciding that he will fix the twins’ relationship

like neil wasn’t kidding around. he saw his time limit and went, ‘huh, well, don’t have time to do this the easy way,’ and then proceeded to figure out a way to “help” only to get punched in the face by aaron

neil finally yelling at kevin to get his shit together after neil had just fucking ripped riko and the ravens a new one on national television

neil finally feeling guilty about seth after aaron yells in his face and allison stepping in to slap aaron

the scene in the motel with the fbi where neil is kneeling (hah) in front of andrew with his back to the others and andrew peels off the bandages on neil’s cheeks

actually just that whole scene in the motel

andrew’s terror turned anger, neil’s “they could have blinded you,” the aborted punch, neil mouthing off to the fbi, andrew bringing the foxes into the conversation in order to keep neil with them, wymack stepping in and asking neil what neil wants

yeah, just all of that

neil and the garbage bag arms

the poor confused waitress who now thinks that neil was either skateboarding in a pirhana pool or dating a serial killer and barely escaped with his life

spring break in the cabin

neil trying to punch aaron despite his hands literally falling apart

in that final game, where andrew is just there, bc you know he had to be moving before riko swung, and the literal whole team goes to check if neil is hurt despite riko being the one on the ground screaming

so yeah, somehow i read a series about a made up sport and also the mafia and also also college students being bad at college all at the same time and it was fucking great

[amphtaminedreams]

COVID-19, Negligent Manslaughter, and a Timeline of Tory Indifference

“I feel sorry for Boris Johnson. He is doing the best he can in the situation and I don’t think anybody else could have done a better job.”

[exhibit A: a gem somebody that I’m Facebook friends with reposted earlier]

It’s a sentiment that I cannot quite wrap my head around. I sit here hopeless and furious and trying to hold back tears because it’s been almost a year since England first went into lockdown and yet here we are, almost 100,000 dead, in an even worse position than we were before whilst other countries begin to slowly return to normality. It is clear to me who is to blame for this, however there are a large proportion of people who don’t want to “politicise” the actions of the PRIME MINISTER with regards to his approach towards handling a virus sweeping the country he GOVERNS. 

Typically, these kind of posts making the rounds on social media will be accompanied by some kind of photo of Boris Johnson looking somber as if to suggest that the way things have played out were beyond his control and that he is some kind of broken man beleaguered by the suffering he has, despite good intentions, inadvertently caused.

This one in particular of Johnson with his head in his hands is a staple. In reality, this is a photo taken back in 2018 whilst he was receiving flack from party members for comparing Theresa May to a suicide bomber (for her handling of Brexit, ironically) as well as from the papers due to his rumoured (now also proven, in a completely non-surprising turn of events, to be true) affair with his former aide, Carrie Symonds. 

So let’s shut this narrative-where we should feel for Boris because he’s doing his best, and apparently a better job than anybody else could’ve done in his situation- down right here. In a supposedly developed country with one of the world’s largest economies, if we’re talking by proportion, our COVID-19 death toll is up there with the worst of them. It seems that every other state figurehead (bar a small handful), and I mean almost every single one of them, is doing a better job. People love to throw figures out there about how densely populated we are to combat damning statistics as if we haven’t got just as many factors playing to our advantage, as if it’s unfair to compare our response to Germany’s or Japan’s or Singapore’s (both of which are far more densely populated) or New Zealand’s or Vietnam’s, but we are an ISLAND with world-leading technology and infrastructure and healthcare equipment and professionals and a relatively high standard of living. In what world is almost 70,000 dead in a country with abundant time and means to prepare a response reflective of said country’s leaders doing a good job?

Apparently we’re supposed to believe that Johnson feels some sense of moral responsibility for this astronomical failure. A man who refuses to acknowledge the multiple children he has fathered outside of his marriages and who has had repeatedly engaged in affairs and one-night stands throughout said marriages. A man who continued to cheat whilst his most recent wife was receiving treatment for cervical cancer, for fuck’s sake. Yep, a real stand-up guy. 

So where does this idea that Johnson must feel remorseful for this catastrophe come from? We haven’t seen a second of remorse or a hint of accountability for the lives lost from him nor any members of his cabinet. That much is really no surprise; I have this hypothesis, and it’s not a stretch, that these people do not have an ounce of empathy in their bodies. These ridiculously privileged, privately-educated individuals who have had everything handed to them their entire lives simply cannot put themselves in the shoes of the average working person and that is the problem. Unable to recognise that what distinguishes them from most others is little more than the luck of being born into wealth and the abundance of recourses and connections that has entailed throughout their lives, they see us as beneath them-as less intelligent, less driven, and thus less deserving of the status and respect they enjoy. They see us as a bunch of whining, unmotivated idiots who do not recognise the chokehold they have over our media nor the fact that everything they do is a desperate grab to keep money and power within the hands of a select group of people, an exclusive members club from which most of us are barred (just take a simple Google search and watch Jacob Rees-Mogg’s opinion of the Grenfell victims or the buried Johnson speech where he talks about how inequality is essential). They know that we will squabble amongst ourselves about who is to blame rather than wising up to the truth which is that every decision they make is fuelled by cronyism and the inability to make and follow through with difficult choices, the pandemic being no exception. The supposedly self-made elite see the life of the average working class person as having far less value than their own, and their parties actions over the last 10 years have made that very clear. 

It was in December 2019 that the first case of COVID-19 was declared to the World Health Organisation and on March the 11th that they announced they considered it as a pandemic. In Wuhan, people were dying of pneumonia in their clusters. And what was Boris Johnson doing in this time? Well for starters, here in the UK we didn’t even have a pandemic committee-Johnson had scrapped it six months before. If years of benefits cuts and defunding of the NHS in favour of funding nuclear weapon programs, keeping British troops on other people’s lands, and tax breaks for the mega corporations that donate to their party didn’t convince you that the Conservatives have little regard for human life, them getting rid of this committee-whilst a pandemic has been declared year after year as the greatest threat to mankind-should have been the first sign of trouble. As if that wasn’t enough, he also skipped five of the COBRA (meetings are made up of a cross-departmental committee put together to respond to national emergencies and PMs routinely attend those pertaining to crises on the scale of COVID-19) meetings addressing the situation. Whilst other countries were closing their borders and stocking up on PPE, Johnson and his ministers were selling PPE abroad and simply telling people to wash their hands to the length of the tune of happy birthday. Their only policy was one of “herd immunity”, which was in fact not a policy but just an abandonment of their party’s public duty disguised as one, intentionally obfuscated with pseudoscientific jargon.

Even thinking the absolute worst of politicians you would hope that when it came to the point where the UK’s non-response to COVID-19 was becoming an international disgrace, Johnson and his ministers would take proper protective measures if only to save face. But when they eventually seemed to do so, it became clear that the priority was not the safety of the ordinary people affected by the virus. Outsourcing their test and traces system to companies such as Serco, Sitel, Deloitte and G4S rather than public health services, Conservative ministers could not resist attempting to line the pockets of their friends and benefactors in the process. According to the Guardian, instead of reaching out to the experts or using publicly funded services to handle COVID containment measures, the Conservative party has awarded a disgusting £1.5 BILLION WORTH of contracts to businesses with explicit connections to its MPs and donors, the majority of which lack any relative experience of the tasks they’ve been trusted to carry out. Unsurprisingly, the National Audit office found that when awarding contracts relating to the production of COVID-19 protection measures and treatment needs, there was a “high-priority lane” for suppliers referred by senior politicians and officials; companies with a political referral were 10 times more likely to end up winning a government contract than those without. On top of this, it is not hard to draw a link between the late initiation of lockdown measures and preemptive openings of pubs and restaurants against scientific advice to the interests of frequent donors such as Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin. Even if one chooses to ignore the blatantly obvious correlation between the owners of the businesses whose profits were prioritised over safety concerns and the number of those owners who donate to the Conservatives, party officials at the very least were reluctant to follow the lead of many other countries in financing furlough schemes themselves and instead avoided this responsibility by using loose lockdown measures to leave it down to the discretion of small business owners, who couldn’t themselves afford to furlough staff, whether or not to stay open. 

Time and time again, as the government flounder and fuck about, favouring personal desires to keep their powerful, high-paying jobs and to satisfy the corporate allies who make this possible, blame has been shifted from the public to care homes to NHS workers and back again whilst we, the public, make the biggest sacrifices of all under the illusion that we were being guided out of this pandemic rather than lied to and thrown under the bus. Whilst the elite continue to pick and choose what rules apply to them, it’s students and the elderly and the vulnerable paying the fines and scrabbling to afford basic living costs and hoping that they don’t lose someone dear to them.

Don’t get me wrong, a large proportion of the public have contributed to the spread too with their selfishness and entitlement and the arrogance it takes to develop a sudden refusal to acknowledge basic science from experts who have studied in the field their whole lives so that they can justify their need to go to the pub (speaking of, it’s absolutely HILARIOUS how many “mental health advocates” are suddenly coming out of the woodworks on football avi Twitter after they’ve spent years calling people on mental health Twitter attention seekers). And don't get me wrong, there were inevitably going to be casualties of this pandemic. But it didn't have to spread to this many people, and there didn’t have to be so many deaths due to a lack of preparation, and this wouldn’t have been the case if it weren’t for the inherent apathy of the Conservative party towards the lives of people of lesser status than them, the reluctance to put those lives before party interests. I wish I felt like there was an end in sight, I wish there was some positive takeaway from all of this, but even now, we continue to see corners being cut with the vaccine lauded as our saving grace and anti-maskers gathering outside hospitals to chant about how “oppressive” it is to be urged to wear a bit of cloth over their faces for the short periods of time in which they leave their houses and all I can think of is the selfishness that runs like poison through our country. It makes me sick and leaves me to question desperately where we go from here. I don’t like unanswered questions, I don’t like feeling politically directionless, and I don’t like the growing fear I have about the state of the world which seems to intensify every single day. In the UK at least, it’s starting to feel like nothing will ever change-we’re told we live in a democracy and yet mainstream media is owned by the people whose interest is to keep their Conservative friends in power. The stronghold they have over print media in particular allows them to continually get away with smearing and defaming every person who comes along and seems to want to actually help ordinary people, without being challenged, to the point where the only kind of “opposition” we’re left with promises nothing but a big boss approved tactical reshuffling of the status quo (which they call “electability”); it doesn’t feel like democracy when the majority of the country are being fed misleading information and convinced against voting in their best interests. 

This is the result of that. The state we find ourselves in is the inevitable result of being manipulated into helping the elite build their protective wall whilst the rest of us scrabble to get in and step on each others heads along the way, the people inside shouting over that it’s those even more vulnerable than ourselves that are taking our places. Outside the wall, the earth is falling from beneath our feet, and instead of throwing over the ropes to help us out, the people inside are stockpiling them so they can secure their firm place above ground and then later flog the rest. How many more people have to die before we reach some kind of widespread realisation of that? Where do we go from here and what do we do? Well for one, we can stop spreading those god-fucking-awful textposts on Facebook and get our heads out of our arses. Wear our masks over and wear them over our fucking noses. Have some fucking consideration for others. Don’t wait til an issue affects you personally to give a fuck about it. AND START HOLDING THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER AND HIS MINISTERS AND HIS ENTIRE PARTY AS WELL AS THE OPPOSITION MPS THAT HAVE SAT BY THE SIDELINES AND ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON WITHOUT PROTEST ACCOUNTABLE. That would be a good start. 

I’m so tired. Things didn’t need to be this way, and yet because of the selfishness of the few, thousands upon thousands are dead. It’s not about “throwing around blame”, it’s not about “throwing around” anything, it’s about expecting a leader to do his best to protect lives. If that is “throwing blame”, let’s get things clear, I have no issue with hurtling it torpedo style at those who handed out a death sentence to so many in this country rather than do anything that might compromise their own privilege. Honestly, pass me the shovel after and I’ll happily bury the wreckage in the ground. Who wants to join?:-)

[forever--darling]

the frat boy’s boxers - s.m.

college frat au : part two

warnings: 9k words of the first party, sorority girls, and the hockey team

Alpha Delta Pi or in other words ADPi was spelled out in pink lettering. Large and nailed above the double doors of the three story white house. The old building, larger than most you had passed on the way over, somehow still remained to look classic even though it’s now a sorority house at a college. Besides the block lettering you probably wouldn’t even notice it was a sorority but the many college students that piled out of the home getting completely wasted gave it away. 

It was almost like you could already smell the cheap beer and the hint of weed. The air almost felt different from the sidewalk next to the house compared to the block over. Almost like the humidity thickened and in any second you would be trapped inside of the house, not able to breathe properly from the amount of people that were packed inside. If that wasn’t all the house was practically shaking from the bass of the music and within hours a complaint would more than likely be filed.

Your eyes were pulled away from the white house at a group of boys walking up the front steps carrying a keg in their hands. An unsteady breath passed through your lips, quickly making you realize that this was not your scene and you had never been given the opportunity to make it your scene. You never went to parties in high school when you were finally old enough to life had other plans. 

This was all so new to you and you were sure that as soon as you walked in everyone would notice. They would easily pick up on the fact that you had no idea what the hell you were doing. It didn’t matter that this was something you had always wanted, the parties. The crazy parties where you danced and drank living in the moment before it all would fade away into a haze by the morning. It didn’t matter because that simple want could be ruined by whatever is on the other side of that house’s door. 

That fear though still didn’t kill the small tingle that found a safe place in your stomach. You sometimes wish it was never there but it’s something that you can’t help. You can’t change that you desperately want to find out the unknown of what it’s like playing alcoholic games or waking up the next morning in a stranger’s bed. 

You never got to live up to the hype that was high school parties so you probably had no clue that college parties were a whole other level. You didn’t know what was going to happen but a part of you felt compelled to dive right in and let things happen on its own because after everything, there was something that screamed that you needed this. That you had worked hard your whole entire life and it seemed fair to let loose for once and let things get a little blurry.

The feeling of a hand being placed on your shoulder caused you to look to your side. Emily sent you a comforting smile sensing the nerves that were stirring inside of you. You smiled back to put all worries aside between the both of you. One thing you weren’t worried about was if you were going to be okay by the end of the night because you knew for a night that Emily had you. That Maggie had you. 

Maggie had yet to notice your hesitation, too occupied in the party buzz that was showing in her. She was on the other side of you staring up at the house. A smirk pulled at the edges of her lips as her eyes seemed to hold a certain kind of flame. This may not be your scene but this definitely was Maggie’s. It had taken her exactly a minute to figure out what to wear and was ready within a half hour knowing exactly how to get ready. From the way the dark eye shadow pulled out the glimmer in her eyes towards her black tight skirt and grey fitted crop top it easily said that this was not her first rodeo. 

With that simple thought, you couldn’t help but tense up as you looked her up and down. She looked so good and it took her the least amount of time to get ready out of the three of you. Even sending a glance towards Emily who was dressed in a completely different style than Maggie, you thought the same thing about her. Her high ponytail had been pulled out letting her shoulder length blonde hair run freely and her pink sweater had been exchanged with a cream colored t-shirt dress that fell right above her knees paired with her white sneakers. She was the definition of the girl next door. Clearly they had caught on to your small glances and the way your nails were digging into your forearm. You were insecure and they could see it written across your face. 

You took another deep breath, counting to three before you exhaled, as you glanced down at your outfit tucking a piece of hair behind your ear nervously. Maggie had convinced you to wear the off the shoulder black top she had pulled from your closet. One you had yet to wear and still had the price tag tucked into the collar when pulled off the hanger. The top traveled straight across the top of your chest leaving your shoulders and collarbone on display. You couldn’t deny that it had been tugged down a little farther from you constantly pulling at the end of the long sleeves around your wrists, feeling at ease as the material traveled into your palm giving you something to scrunch every few seconds. 

Paired with the shirt, to make it look a little more casual you pulled out a pair of blue jeans, tighter than the ones you had been wearing earlier, as Maggie’s recommendation. A brown shadow had been pressed onto your lid along with a glossy lip that Emily had pulled from her purse before she fluffed the loose curls in your hair to make them appear more undone and natural. Maggie had tried to get you to wear a pair of black kitten high heels she owned but you decline and went for a pair of brown birkenstocks. 

You gave one last tug on the left sleeve of your shirt, sparing a glance from Emily and then to Maggie, who both were waiting patiently for when you’d be ready to walk in. Nodding, you took a few steps forward and started to make your way towards the front door that was left open and ajar. You came face to face with the place that held your first college party inside. 

You didn’t take another second before stepping into the house being met with every cliche ever written about college parties. A room sat in front of you; swarming with bodies all pressed together, dancing, drinking, getting high out of their minds, but most importantly not giving a shit about anything else except that they needed a refill. You could already feel the music bouncing off your skin causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up while the smell of beer drowned your nostrils. 

For a second your nose scrunched up at the overbearing smell but after a minute got used to the strong odor. Clinging close between Maggie and Emily, your eyes scanned across the entryway where a group of what could be assumed football players were busy clearing a path for races down the stairs on trash can tops. One thing you hoped you wouldn’t ever try in your drunk state within the next few hours.

Standing frozen in front of the door, you stood on your tiptoes hoping to see something other than the group of people stood around the staircase. Turns out, if you craned your neck out enough, you could get a glimpse through a doorway off to the side of another room that held a few couches. Behind that though, there was a vast majority of people huddled together dancing with their hips connected, sweat dripping down their bodies. 

“Hello, ladies,” your eyes snapped away from the room towards the new found voice that had directed itself towards you, Maggie, and Emily. 

Looking up towards the direction of the voice, you were met with the sight of a tall boy with chocolate skin that appeared to be a dark caramel from the soft glow lightening of the entryway. His black hair had been cut short and his lips were showcasing a white smile. He was dressed in a white polo shirt. The top buttons undone to show off his chest while his bottoms were fit tightly in a pair of khakis shorts. Slung over the white polo, hiding away what could only be huge jaw dropping biceps, was a purple zip up with white trim. Also knitted in the corner were the words ‘University of Washington Hockey’. Of course he had to have played some sort of sport with arms like that. 

“So, where are you coming from?” he questioned leaning forward, a red solo cup pressed into his palm, “Freshman?” 

Maggie nodded, face stone cold as his eyes scanned over the three of you, his lip somehow finding its way in between his teeth as his brown irises do another look over towards you. “That’s what I thought. I could sense it,” he said, the words dripping from the smug smile on his lips. 

Maggie stepped forward, pointing a finger into his chest as she yelled over the music, “Yeah and do you have a sense of where we can get something to drink?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest as his eyes flickered back over towards you briefly eyeing your torso, “Yeah, this way.” 

From there, you followed the tall hockey player from the entryway, sending more glances up towards the staircase where some guy was sitting at the top strapping on a black helmet to his head. You are brought through the room that held the cream colored couches and the dance floor that was larger than you had expected. The room could have been an addition to the sitting room or a dining room for all you knew but now seemed more like a club. 

Lights from blue, to red, and green flashed across the people’s faces as they danced, drinks held high in their hands, to the music coming from the speaker system hooked up towards the front of the room where some guy was apparently DJing. 

You were once again pulled from the sight but this time by the tug on your arm from Emily. She gave you a confused look before continuing to drag you along behind her. Entering what could only assume was the kitchen under the bowls of snacks that had been semi spilled onto the counter along with red solo cups left used and abandoned. You watched as the new found hockey player took three new cups from the stack of clean ones and placed them onto the bit of the counter that wasn’t a total mess. He sent a glance at the three of you that had somehow huddled together in the busy kitchen.

“What are you drinking?” he asked with a small grin. 

“Beer,” Maggie replied, watching as he crossed the kitchen towards the large metal keg.

“Maggie,” you turned to see Emily tugging on Maggie’s shoulder, “I think I’ll stick with water or pop.” 

She rolled her eyes briefly as she swung her arm around Emily’s shoulders, “Em, it’s the first party of the year. Like I told this one let loose. If that means I don’t drink as much tonight in order to take care of you (two) than fine.” 

Emily nodded not saying another word as Maggie turned, grabbing two of the red cups handing one to you and then to Emily before grabbing her own. Almost instantly Emily took a long swig, her face scrunching up as the alcohol burned on the way down. She began to cough lightly into her hand. 

“I said let loose, not go to fucking town. Geez, you have all night,” Maggie said, taking a small drink from her own cup.

You chuckled, watching as Emily tangled her fingers into the top of her blonde hair, her lip pushed out in a small pout. Slowly, you brought your own cup to your lips and took a sip. Swallowing you felt the brief burn before it settled into some kind of warmth. Lowering the cup, you looked over Maggie’s shoulder to find the hockey player staring at the three of you, a huge grin pulled at the ends of his lips. 

You watched as his eyes scanned over you once more and as he opened his mouth to say something was caught off by a hand clasping over his shoulder. Beside him was a guy who was a few inches shorter than him with dark brown locks that fell to around his jaw matching his scruff. Along with light blue eyes and equally as large biceps you could easily distinguish him as another member of the hockey team and if his physique didn’t give it away, it was the grey hockey hoodie he wore. You began to wonder if every hockey player on the team had to wear something to the party that made people know exactly who they were. 

“Marcus,” the new guy said, hanging his shoulder off the hockey player who had directed you to the kitchen that you now know as Marcus. “Beer pong let’s go. I need a partner and if the two of us were to team up then Brian and Connor would have no chance.” 

Marcus spared a small smile towards the other boy who had yet to notice the three of you standing there or that he interrupted something. Finally as he directed his eyes back to you, the guy had finally realized that Marcus wasn’t just standing alone in the middle of the kitchen. His blue pools shifted to the three of you, they widened slightly, stopping briefly as they traveled over Emily.  

“Oh, hey. Sorry. I’m Geoff,” he said casually while raising his hand for a small wave before looking back towards Marcus not having a clue who you were. “Freshman,” Marcus declared, answering the question that was running through Geoff’s mind. 

Geoff nodded in excitement, a smile widening across his face, as he looked past Maggie and you to Emily. “Freshman. Well, welcome to the University of Washington. For future reference, the best parties are at Pi Kappa Alpha. The real shit.” 

You could only assume that Pi Kappa Alpha was the fraternity he belonged to and the one Marcus probably belonged to as well. Heck, at this point the whole hockey team were probably all in that fraternity because so far you were picking up on that they liked to party, dress in a way that you know that they played hockey, and clearly had an interest in getting girls drinks. With all of the little things you were starting to pick up on about college and your fellow classmates, you were tempted to withhold from getting totally shit faced just to see what else you could find out about the people that you would be surrounding yourself with.

Plus, you had a feeling that you might be going to quite a few parties this year to make up for lost time and you were bound to get hammered at one of those. For the sake of Maggie seeing you have a good time, you would nurse the beer, stick to one or two. If she began to notice that you weren’t drinking, you would return to the kitchen and refill your empty cup with Coke to ease her hawk eyes and make her believe that you were actually trying to get the whole college experience. Because the college experience would not be complete without drinking so much and dancing so hard that you throw up for hours before passing out on the bathroom floor to only wake up with your memory wiped clean of everything that had happened hours before. 

“Good to know,” you said with a small smirk.

Geoff raised his cup up to you in agreement and sent a small wink before he directed his attention back towards Marcus, “Okay, but seriously beer pong.” 

“Alright, alright. Let’s go,” Marcus said, his voice rushed and sounding on the end of being annoyed. He saluted the three of you turning in the other direction of a door that must have led outside into the back yard. 

“Hey, and freshman, feel free to join in on a game because after all this is your life now too,” Geoff said as he tipped his cup back and downed the contents. He sent a lazy smile towards the three of you as he went and followed Marcus out the door. 

“Well that just happened,” you hummed into your cup while taking another sip as a giggle erupted from the two other girls.

“Come on,” Maggie said, her laughter dying down as she directed her way back out from the kitchen back into the living space. 

“Where are we going?” Emily asked, face laced with confusion. 

Maggie smiled as she led you into the room that was pulsing with music, “To mingle.” 

Both you and Emily disagreed as Maggie found a few people to engage into a conversation. While she did that, you and Emily found a small corner against the wall, near the entryway, to lean on. It was close enough that you could still peek into the room over all of the people and see everyone but also be able to talk without yelling over the loud music. You were taking sips of your drink each getting longer than the last as Emily kept peeking through the window towards the backyard. Both of your minds were elsewhere. 

Your eyes scanned the room, from the couches that had the couples tangling tongues to the dance floor where more and more people seemed to join, never getting tired or wanting to stop. You could even see a faint view across the room through a window that showcased outside. The beer pong game must have been going on just outside that window as you could notice Geoff’s tangled hair from where you stood. It was only getting more tangled as he ran his fingers through it within each throw or drink. That’s where Emily’s gaze had been locked on for the past few minutes. Tapping the rim of your cup against your chin softly, your gaze moved back towards the dance floor just as Maggie slid across the room back to the two of you. 

“Are the two of you going to hide over here for the whole night?” 

“No,” Emily said, her eyes finally removing themselves from the back of Geoff’s head, “But maybe just for a little bit longer.” 

“Guys, come on, we’re in college now. Have some fun, go talk to a random stranger!” Maggie demanded. 

“I’m fine right here.” 

Maggie’s eyes shifted to you as she was not satisfied with Emily’s answer, “Y/N?” 

“I’m okay too,” you mumbled, attention now quickly being brought away from the conversation to a few voices just feet away. 

You began to drone out the argument between the two as the scene meters away became your priority. Two girls stood, tall and skinny, towering over another girl in a way a predator would look down at its prey. Their eyes were narrowed in a vulture like way that made the smaller rounder girl cower. She had circular glasses and long curly brown hair pulled in a low ponytail. You thought you weren’t made for this scene but compared to this girl she stuck out like a sore thumb worse than you did. 

The other two girls who were whispering and sharing looks were the epitome of popular prom queens. They were pressed and perfect, dressed in the shortest skirts and tightest shirts. Their hair was long and voluminous, curled not a single piece out of place. The two of them also had matching pink bracelets that were the same exact color as the letters outside on the top of the house. 

You watched carefully as the girl who had been trapped by them took a step back, head dropping and eyes narrowed on the ground. One of the girls, one who towered and you could easily tell was the one in charge, laughed loudly as she hit her friend’s arm. He friend stifled a laugh of her own as they edged away leaving the round girl alone, face laced in a frown. The two moved to another group where a handful of other girls stood looking like mere copy cats with the same bright pink bracelets. 

The one who seemed to be in control or the queen of the social group stood gossiping, her chest stuck out as far as possible. She was the ideal picture of a woman any guy wanted. Though the heels gave her a few more inches, she was no doubt around 5’7 with long honey brown colored hair that curled on the ends in the middle of her back. With an hourglass figure, she had curvy hips with a tiny waist and was no doubt the single girl most guys wanted in their beds. You couldn’t lie that it made you want to curl up in the corner, so you didn’t have to look at her and compare yourself any more. She had clear skin, and dark eyes that all went well with her small fitted nose. She was pretty almost too pretty, like she wasn’t even from this planet.

Both Emily and Maggie had looked to where your gaze had been invested and also saw the whole interaction play out. You could practically feel the heat burning through Maggie’s clothes from how much anger she was holding in. 

“Did you see that?” she mumbled, her tone sounding as sharp as a night, “God, why are some girls still so bitchy in college?” 

Clearly she had some sort of thing against girls who dress in slutty clothes and have huge egos. To ease her before she actually exploded and ended up tackling one of them, you placed a hand on your shoulder and began to rub small circles with your thumb. She relaxed slightly but not fully and it was silent for a few minutes before Emily spoke up. 

“That would be Becca Bradley,” she said causing yours and Maggie’s eyes to snap towards her confused that she already had a clue who the girl was in a short black skirt, “If there's one thing my roommate likes to do it’s to talk and Alpha Delta Pi is one of the few things she can go on and on about. Becca is the president of the sorority. Lindsey would give anything to be out of our dorm room and in this house which is why she is going to rush.” 

“Oh your roommate is that type?” Maggie said, her breath coming out short as her eyes followed the movement coming from across the room.

“What type?” Emily asked. 

Maggie explained, “The girl who wants to be like the popular girl. She would give anything to be included in the social circle of a sorority girl.” 

Emily sighed, “Yes, very much that type.”

“Well there usually is always one.”

“I think that girl might be crying. Why can’t girls just grow up after high school,” you mumbled, squeezing the cup in your hand tightly. 

“Because for some, college is just like high school to them but on a bigger scale,” Maggie huffed, taking a long sip of her own drink.

Turning away from the two of them, you gazed across the room again, this time catching sight of a group of boys. They came out of the kitchen and into the crowded room, around six to eight of them in total. All muscled and broad shouldered. Your mouth had fallen open but you quickly closed it at the notice of a few of them wearing the same hockey logo that Marcus and Geoff had. You were beginning to think that every good looking guy ended up being a member of the team. 

They entered like they were a pack of wolves, close together, eyes scanning the room with smirks resting on all of their faces. It was an easy guess to say that they too were all members of Pi Kappa Alpha. Nothing seemed more logical than a team full of hot hockey players also being the biggest frat boys on campus. Which meant they were probably just as fuck boy ish as the next fraternity was. 

“I see the rest of the hockey team has arrived,” you mumbled watching as Marcus and Geoff emerged from outside and stalked over towards the group, starting to exchange handshakes and slaps to the back while gently swaying from one side to the other. 

Maggie and Emily’s ears perked up at your words and easily picked out what you were talking about. You noticed the way Emily’s mouth lifted at the sight of Geoff while Maggie stared eye wide at the rest of the men. 

“Is there some reason that the whole fucking hockey team is eye candy,” she groaned, sipping on her drink, “They aren’t my type but how can you resist guys with asses like that?” 

You heard Emily giggle from beside you as she sent a knowing look towards you, “Not to mention they’re all members of Pi Kappa Alpha. So not only jocks but frats too.” 

Maggie rolled her eyes grumbling, “Of course they are. Fan-fucking-tastic.” 

There were things you could have said to add to the conversation but it seemed that your lips were glued shut suddenly as your eyes fell towards the back of the group where Geoff was leaning into a tall body mass dressed in a white hoodie for a bro hug. You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat as you scanned the boy from head to toe. He was one of the tallest in the group with a head full of dark curls messily pushed out of his chiseled face. No doubt just as muscly as the others but not entirely sure from the way his sweatshirt hung loosely on his torso, baggily falling to the top of the blue skinny jeans that hugged his legs tightly. 

Under the dim light of the room his eyes gleamed, as his skin appeared gold besides the pink that brushed over his cheeks giving his face a slight flush. You watched as his head dipped down slightly at something Geoff had said, causing a large smile to break out across his face revealing his white pearly teeth within his pink lips. It made him appear much more boyish and sweet from the way his eyes crinkled and how the blush seemed to deepen. 

If that wasn’t all to prove how angelic he really looked, from tipping his head forward a single curl had fallen across his forehead right above his left eye. Standing up straight his large hand pushed the curl from his face revealing a tattoo of some kind on the top of his hand but before you could decipher what it was, his arm had fallen back to his side disappearing into the pocket of his jeans. The smile had fallen away and the curl was pushed back at the top of his head. His boyish moment was gone and he had returned to looking like every other college guy in the house, oozing with arrogance as a smirk pulled at his lips. 

You knew just like all the others he was a hockey player and no doubt a frat boy. It made you feel ashamed to suddenly feel weak in the knees for someone that probably only intended to take a girl home at the end of the night and to never talk to her again. It made you want to cuss at the fact that your body was getting warm just from the way he crossed his arms over his chest or bit into his lower lip to chew on it. He was probably the hottest thing you had ever laid your eyes on and if you remotely got involved with him it wouldn’t end well. 

The team began to disperse ready to start partying. Few moved outside no doubt to join in on the beer pong tournament that had already been started by their teammates while others headed straight for the kitchen to get a drink or move for a girl their eyes had gotten locked on. He however was still standing in the same spot listening to the light chatter from Geoff nodding or grinning. His arms fell from his chest at someone being behind him. Marcus was standing with two red cups in his hands, handing one to the tall boy who had acknowledged him. As he turned to accept the drink, you could make out the purple lettering on the back of his sweatshirt that made out MENDES in all caps along with a large number eight printed below that. Hockey player he was. 

“And there he is,” Emily said, catching your attention as she pointed towards were Geoff and Marcus were standing next to their teammate, “The captain of the hockey team himself and the ruler of Pi Kappa Alpha. Shawn Mendes.” 

Shawn. You repeated the name under your breath as your palm clamped tightly around the empty cup in your hand. At hearing captain and ruler, your stomach had dropped even further than it had before. Nothing screamed player more than that.

“Sophomore and the university’s golden boy. If there is something anyone knows it’s who Shawn Mendes is. I learned within the twenty minutes I got here because another thing my roommate seems to have an interest in is the hockey team’s star player. She stalked his Instagram and showed me pictures of him for at least a half hour. Says he is one of the reasons she wants to join a sorority so bad. Thinks it will make him notice her or something, but I guess I don’t blame her reasoning because if there is any girl who doesn’t find themselves attracted to him they must be blind,” she continued.

“I’m really starting to hate this school,” Maggie sighed, scanning Shawn from head to toe. 

You still weren’t able to say anything or even pull your eyes from him. Noticing the short black skirt move from where she stood at the edge of the dance floor caused your stomach to drop just a little. She tapped on his shoulder with her perfectly manicured fingers causing him to not only turn around but to have the smile drop from his face. Becca’s lips curled sweetly as her palm found a place on his chest. Leaning as close as she could, you could feel the discomfort from seeing the two of them together, despite you only laying your eyes on him for the first time minutes ago. 

“Can I say that I’m not actually fucking surprised. I mean typical frat boy jock and popular sorority girl, the power couple of the school,” Maggie grumbled, rolling her eyes. 

Emily chuckled leaned against the wall causing you to look in her direction towards her blazing green eyes, “Them together? No.” 

Maggie scoffed, “You sure?” 

“Positive. See everyone wants Shawn including Becca Bradley but the thing is Shawn Mendes doesn’t work that way. He doesn’t like relationships or dates… in fact doesn’t like being tied down at all. Becca to him is nothing but a good screw like any other girl at this school,” Emily explained sipping her drink. 

“Typical,” Maggie replied downing the rest of her drink before letting the cup fall to the ground, “Okay, frat boy is a fuck boy. Got it, same news.” 

Your breath shuttered through your chest as you watched Becca’s arms wrap around Shawn’s neck pulling him down into her, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to get another drink.” 

Both Maggie and Emily nodded barely acknowledging your words as they continued to watch the King and Queen of Washington State. Walking by them, you scanned over the position they were in. In the same spot he had been before, Shawn was stood still in the grasps of the Alpha Delta Pi girl herself but now with both of her hands pressed to his chest as his free hand that wasn’t holding his drink pressed into the dip of her waist. She was obviously saying something but he wasn’t paying attention as his gaze was locked onto something else over her shoulder. 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to process what was happening as you went for the kitchen. Shawn Mendes was everything a girl wanted and you almost felt guilty staring at him the way you were because you didn’t want to be like the rest of them. Even if he returned the look you were giving him, he obviously would only have one thing on his mind. And you were sure if Becca found out that his interest had fallen away from her she would make you the talk of the school in the way you probably originally didn’t have in mind. 

You couldn’t deny that you suddenly were attracted to the tall sophomore but you weren’t about to be his flavor of the night and be tossed aside the next morning. A booty call was something you weren’t going to make out of yourself. You were trying to be the girl that was chased after by boys, not the one doing the chasing and that was what was bound to happen if you were to fall into the grasps of Shawn Mendes. 

Being too caught up in your thoughts about what had happened and all things boys, you weren’t paying attention where you were going. You didn’t see the tall figure in front of you, so when they turned on their heels to move towards the living room the boy collided with you. Your chest pressed against his and in an attempt to steady yourself, your hand wrapped around his bicep. In return his palm landed on your hip holding you steady against him away from his other hand that held the now half empty red solo cup. With most of it fallen out onto the floor and all over his arm, you sighed in relief that you were not stained by the warm liquid. 

You took a deep breath, your eyes locked on the person on the other half of the run in. Your eyes met his chest so lifting your head, you find a pair of warm brown eyes looking down at you. The boy stood in front of you, a sheepish smile on his face as his eyes scanned you to make sure none of his beer had splashed onto you. As he did this, you couldn’t help but stare up at him trying to take in all of his features at once. 

With tan golden skin, the boy before you was tall around 6’0 with brown eyes, long lashes and dark brown hair that curled messily at the top of his forehead making it look fluffy and unkept. Just below his slightly chapped pillowy lips was a small scar that curled back slightly towards his jaw. It instantly made you want to know the story behind that scar. If that wasn’t all, his chest was hard against yours and you could feel the way his large bicep, on the side of the hand that was still holding the red cup, flexed under the tight grip of your palm. His skin was hot to the touch and it caused your fingertips to tingle. You could hear a chuckle under his breath as he turned back towards you, thick eyebrows slightly raised. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” you manage to get out, looking back towards the now wet floor and his drenched hand. 

He chuckled again, “It’s alright.” 

You shook your head removing your hand from his bicep while moving towards a roll of paper towels that sat on the other side of the kitchen. Moving frantically towards the tissue, you could feel as his hand had dropped from your waist, the warmth disappearing. You ignored the absence of his hand and grabbed seven to eight sheets off of the roll. Passing him at least three, you ran your fingers through your hair anxiously beginning to feel the way your legs were trembling. “It’s not. I should’ve been watching where I was going.” 

You bent down and began to wipe at the hardwood floor as the boy dried his hands from his drink. Setting his cup down on the counter, he crouched next to you and used the paper towels in his hands to help you clean up the rest of the beer. “No, really, it’s okay. See no harm done.” 

You took a deep breath as you held the wet towels in your hand. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you looked over to him to see he was already looking at you with a soft smile. “I-- um…” your voice trailed off as you looked at him, a fumbling nervous mess because this was the first real conversation by yourself with a college guy. 

“Hey,” he whispered, reaching over and grabbing your wrist gently to help you up, “It’s fine. Plus I should’ve been watching where I was going too.” 

“Yeah?” your voice was soft and quiet as you stared up at him. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, his hand still gently wrapped around your wrist. 

Silence fell over the empty kitchen that was slightly shaking from the music in the living room. In the moment you looked him over, pausing as you looked across his chest to make sure you didn’t see any hockey logo anywhere across his shirt. There wasn’t and you felt relieved when it was just a regular black t-shirt. Well tight fitted t-shirt that hugged his biceps making them bulge against the black material. Not a hockey player which means probably not a member of Pi Kappa Alpha. Biting onto your bottom lip, you lifted your eyes to meet his. He looked you up and down causing a blush to travel up your neck and your cheeks. He easily noticed the flush that had covered your face and his smile widened at the sight. 

“So,” he began leaning forward, cocking his head to the side as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, “I haven’t seen you around before.” 

“I’m a freshman,” you replied. 

“I figured,” he laughed as his hand released around your wrist and lifted it out towards you, “Henry Thunderman. Sophomore.” 

You smiled sliding your palm into his and just as you were about to mumble out your name you were cut off by a loud yell coming from the door that led outside towards the backyard. “Yo, Thunderman. Want to play a game of pong or not?”

The voice belonged to some redhead who was tapping his foot impatiently against the floor. Henry glanced from the guy back to you and was about to glare back at the boy but was pulled away from your voice. “You can go, you know. Beer pong calls.” 

“You sure,” he asked, “I can stick around if you need me to just in case you run into someone else with a cup full of beer.” 

You laughed playfully, rolling your eyes, “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine.” 

He nodded, voice laced with laughter, “Alright will I see you later, then?” 

“Maybe,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling confident, “That depends on if you can find me.” 

Moving backwards, you walked out of the kitchen forgetting about your drink all together as his chocolate orbs followed you until you were out of sight. As you made your way back into the living room, you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot but as your eyes fell onto your two friends across the room, your smile disappeared. So focused on this new situation you couldn’t even look to see if Shawn was still standing where you last saw him. 

There still leaning against the wall was Maggie and Emily stood next to some short girl. She had short platinum blonde hair pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head as she was dressed in a pair of black very ripped jeans and a pink tank top that showed off way more cleavage than needed with a red cup in her hand. She had large winged eyeliner on and a lot of blush that made her cheeks a shade of orange. She looked the way she sounded in your opinion. Ugly. 

“What did I tell you about talking to me in public Emily. I don’t need everyone knowing that you’re my roommate. Well, at least my roommate for the next month or so,” she spat, arms placed firmly on her hips. 

“Hey, I suggest you walk away before that ponytail somehow finds its way off of your head,” Maggie said her words dripping with venom. 

“Huh, nice people you’ve met Em. Enjoy the party tonight because who knows when you’ll be invited to the next one,” the girl who could be assumed as Lindsey replied sending them a small wink, “You do realize that after this Alpha Delta Pi parties will be invite only and let’s be honest that you won’t ever get one.” 

“Hey, what’s going on over here?” you asked, stopping the girl before she could walk away. 

She huffed, “Oh great, there's another one.” 

“You do realize you’re saying this stuff out loud right?” you questioned sarcastically, hand finding a place on your hip. 

“Yeah, and you do realize that this is none of your fucking business,” Lindsey replied her eyes narrowing as her lip curled into a snarl. 

Sighing loudly you took a step closer to her and lowered your voice, “Look, I thought this was like a given but we’re not in high school anymore, which means all of this drama you’re starting doesn’t need to happen.” 

“And like I said before you should mind your own fucking business and stay out of my roommate’s and mine.”

“I think you should apologize,” you continued, refusing to back down, not able to glace anywhere but this bitch in front of you which meant you were unaware of the many pairs of eyes looking towards the scene that was unfolding. 

Lindsey stepped forward and tipped her cup forward. The beer fell out and ran all across your chest and shirt. You gasped as she chucked the cup to the side before sending you a wide smile.

“And I think not,” she spat, hitting your shoulder as she passed you. 

With your hands raised at your sides, your eyes were wide and mouth open in shock that she actually had the nerve to do that. Staring down at your shirt, your eyes snapped into the direction of where a sharp loud laugh was coming from. There stood where she had been since you left for the kitchen was Becca. 

She was hanging off Shawn, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at you while making comments that only made the other sorority girls laugh along with her. Closing your mouth, you looked up to two honey colored eyes staring at you. Shawn’s arms were pressed to his sides and he gave you an apologetic look from across the room. He wasn’t laughing like most of the other frat guys or smirking at how the shirt stuck to your chest. His expression was soft like he felt bad for you in that moment which almost felt worse than him laughing at you. 

Turning to face your friends you could hear Maggie mumble a “bitch” under her breath as Emily just frowned at you. Taking in a deep breath, you exchanged glances with both of them, “Lindsey, I’m guessing.” 

“Yeah,” Emily said wrapping her arms around herself, “She’s a real treat isn’t she?”

Glancing from Emily to the way Maggie was fuming and her nostrils were flaring you motioned towards a hallway as the nerves bubbled within your stomach from all the people who still stared at you, “Let’s find a bathroom and after that I could really use another drink.” 

*

Hours later, here you were stumbling home with one drunk girl on one arm and a tipsy one on the other. You knew that offering them a drink and more after that, someone had to remain sober enough to get the three of you back towards your hall in one piece. So you stuck to water the rest of the night making sure that they were having fun. After running into Lindsey, Emily began to slam one drink after another clearly not thinking about the consequences that will rise in the next morning. 

Maggie on the other hand only had like three more beers which gave her a slight buzz but not enough to slur all of her words together. It was around one a.m. when you and Maggie had finally gathered Emily into your arms and began to walk her home leaving the party that was still in full swing. The hall was just around the corner and you had never been so thankful in your life because it was getting harder and harder to keep the one girl upright as she danced and sang the theme song of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. 

Maggie shouted loudly along even though she had nowhere near as much alcohol in her as Emily. The last few hours had gone from beers to doing shots with the football team and then playing quarters with some sorority girls that lived a block down from Alpha Delta Pi and now you’re here squished against two people that you met almost a day ago and they somehow had become the two people you’ve trusted more than anyone else. I mean how could you not trust two girls who were screaming out the words sung by Will Smith.

To say that the stairs that led up towards your dorm was a challenge was an understatement. It took you at least ten minutes to get up one flight of stairs and as soon as you unlocked the door of your room, you and Maggie dropped Emily onto your bed. Maggie went to her bed and began to pull at her black bedspread, suddenly forgetting the Bel Air theme song and taking up the fact that she was in her own room. Her eyes were still open as she looked from you to Emily. 

Turning towards your bed, you found the other girl spread out across your freshly made mattress and you knew that you weren’t about to send her into the vicious hands of her roommate. She would probably let the blonde girl choke on her own vomit for all you knew and you weren’t about to let that happen at any cost. So instead, you unlaced her white sneakers and pulled them from her feet one at a time before you threw a fuzzy blanket over her drowsy figure. 

Her eyelids were closed and you thought that she had fallen asleep but as you went to grab some clothes to change into for the night, about to go towards the bathroom down the hall, a string of words fell from her no longer glossy lips causing you to stop at the edge of the bed. “Could you imagine if I rushed for Alpha Delta Pi and I got in but Lindsey didn’t. Oh what I would pay to see the look on her face.”

Her words were muffled and slurred but you were still able to make them out. Turning to glance over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Maggie who stared at you eyebrows furrowed. You stood there for another minute waiting to see if Emily was going to say anything else but she fell silent soon consumed by light snores. You frowned as you turned her on her side in case she were to throw up. It was a miracle that she hadn’t yet with all the alcohol she had consumed in the short few hours. Grabbing a pair of sleeping shorts and a baggy blue tee, you made sure Emily was comfortable and Maggie was still awake before you slipped on a pair of slippers and wandered down the hall towards the bathroom. 

The whole time you were getting ready for bed, you couldn’t help but think about the events of the night. From the moment you walked in and realized just who the Alpha Delta Pi’s sisters were to laying eyes on the whole hockey team. To seeing Shawn for the very first time all the way to running into Henry and spilling his beer across the floor. You hadn’t seen him for the rest of the night despite him asking if he would and it made you contemplate for several minutes if your flirty response was the reason why. You quickly brushed it aside coming up with an excuse that he probably had gotten too caught up with beer pong like you had gotten too caught up with taking care of Dumb and Dumber or how you got beer dumped onto your brand new shirt. 

You were so caught up in taking care of Emily and trying to keep away from Shawn that you had failed to look for Henry too or even think about him until you had gotten back into your room. That’s when you also realized that he had no idea what your name was. You were interrupted before you had the chance to and as you entered back into the dorm room and looked from your two friends you realized that you weren’t probably going to see Henry again because you were too stupid to tell him your name. With how big this campus was there was a chance you could never see the man again. 

Shawn Mendes. You repeated the name over and over in your head and thought about the moment you first saw him to the last. How he looked to change into a completely different person. To be fair, you didn’t know him. Not one bit, but from the soft eyes and frown he had given you over what had happened with Lindsey, you had a feeling that it couldn’t have really been him. He was moments before talking to his fellow teammates with a smirk rested on his face then sort of feeling Becca up while blatantly ignoring her. So either Shawn was just messing with you or there was a side to him that almost didn’t exist. You mean a side he didn’t show to anyone. Could it be possible that the Shawn Mendes actually had a heart within that hard chest of his? The world may never know. 

Arriving back into your room, you were faced with not only one girl passed out but now two. Sighing you took a few throw blankets from off your bed and laid them out across the floor. You stole a pillow that had somehow been kicked onto the end of the bed from Emily before taking your laptop from your desk. Trying to get as comfortable as one could on a hardwood floor, you opened the laptop and propped it onto your lap. Opening a new tab, you typed Instagram into the search bar. As soon as the website was opened and onto your profile you knew you would instantly regret what you were about to do. Going to the search bar, your fingers hovered over the white keyboard questioning yourself if this was even worth it. Rolling your eyes, you typed his name in anyways. Shawn Mendes. 

Only one profile came up with the name. You knew it was his from the profile picture that was him on the rink back facing the camera, his last name and number eight that gave it away. Clicking onto it, the profile pulled across your face. Shawn Mendes. Bio; Washington University 2021. Hockey. Posts; 62. Followers; 24.2k. Following; 902. 

“Popular guy,” you thought to yourself as you began to scroll through his posts. 

At each one you looked at, you felt your stomach tighten just a little bit more. You felt embarrassed to be doing this after all seeing him once and even worse about how he made your chest flutter. From the pictures of him shirtless on a boat with his teammates, to him playing on the rink in his uniform, to family pictures back in his hometown, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t such a bad guy. It was the smile he gave in each picture or the kiss he placed on his mother’s cheek. He seemed so genuine. 

There weren’t any pictures of him with girls or him at parties. Or anything remotely bad but you knew this was just his image. 24.2k followers. He can’t have them knowing of his frat boy antics or fuck boy advances. You didn’t know him but you wanted to and that was a problem. 

Hearing shuffling from beside up on one of the beds, you closed out the tab as quick as possible and looked up to find Maggie sitting up in her bed, eyeing you curiously. Her hair was slightly tangled now from her twenty minute nap and her eyeliner was smudged. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing,” you responded, “What are you doing?” 

She shrugged, sending you a smile that could only mean trouble, “I can’t sleep. I’ve been thinking a lot and I’ve just now realized how much of a fucking genius I am.”

next part

[justathingidid]

ZOMBIES: THE DISCRIMINATORY UNDEAD

The movie premiered early 2018 on Disney Channel

On February 16, 2018, Disney Channel premiered the sing and dance musical Zombies, which focuses on the integration of teenage zombies into the pastel perfect Seabrook High. Milo Manheim portrays Zed, a green-haired, grey-skinned zombie who wants nothing more than to be on Seabrook’s football team. His determined spirit is shared by Addison -  a bubbly, cheerful girl whose main goal is to be on the Seabrook High cheer squad. Apparently the passion for extracurricular athletics is stronger than it lets on, because these two somehow fall in love. But the young romance is faced with problems - the main one being that zombies are hated and the town of Seabrook would never accept the dating duo. Despite the over-the-top dance numbers and Romeo-and-Juliet-esque love story, Zombies is nothing short of masterful in its depiction of segregation and intolerance in an ignorant community. This post will include the following:

An analysis of the town and social structure of Seabrook

An in-depth character study of Zed and Addison

An examination and explanation of the “physical villain” 

Examination of certain song lyrics 

SYMBOLISM IN THE TOWN OF SEABROOK

The town of Seabrook is sickeningly perfect. The color palette of pastel pinks, greens, blues and greys is shoved down the throat of the viewer to display the cohesiveness of the citizens. Such uniformity is instrumental in showing the shared ideals and viewpoints of the people of Seabrook - the coordinated appearance is more than physical. Overall, it is clear to younger viewers that the people of Seabrook firmly embrace sameness. On the outskirts lies “Zombietown”, the dark, gloomy community where the people of Seabrook have forced the creatures of difference to reside. The history is controversial - zombies were created in freak accident, changing regular citizens into flesh eating creatures of the night. It is not sure whether or not a war had ensued but it can assumed that altercations did occur - characters mentions that their grandfather’s ear was bitten off by a zombie and all zombies now have an unexplained fear of fire. While the body count is unknown, one thing is clear, zombies are feared and ostracized. This immense fear has caused institutionalized discrimination - zombies are regulated by the government and not allowed in public spaces. Such laws only hint at historical instances of racism and discrimination in the real world. In America, African-Americans faced heavy discrimination based on the unwarranted accusations of being savage, uncivilized, and undeserving. Similar to the zombies in Zombietown, laws were enforced that banned blacks from public spaces such as water fountains, schools and churches. When schools were finally desegregated, there was a large outcry from the white community, similar to the response of Seabrook citizens when zombie students are integrated into Seabrook High School. Once there, the zombie students are subjected to inferior classroom conditions and hate speech sprayed on the walls, just like black students who were allowed to attend majority-white institutions. But the similarities don't just apply to African Americans, Zombies are also comparable to Asian-Americans. A certain laws restricts zombies from owning pets out of fear that they will eat them - somewhat of an allegory to the racist stereotype of Asian-Americans consuming domestic animals such as dogs and cats. Zombies are also regulated by Z-Bands, an unremovable metal wrist band that delivers electromagnetic pulses that reduces their urge for brains. This draws unmistakable similarity to abusive tactics employed in gay conversion therapy. There are countless stories of those in conversion therapy who found themself with “an elastic band around the wrist” that delivered electric shocks in order to dissuade the individual’s desire for the same-sex (NCLRIGHTS.ORG).  With the Z-Band, the amount of electromagnetic pulses can alter the creature entirely. Too much is a heavily painful experience, but allows them to appear “normal”, while too little causes them to return to their natural state as brain-eating animals. For the electric-shock wristband, it can be determined that a similar concept applies: too much would prove to be near fatal despite its probable effectiveness, and too little would cause the person to remain as they are - in an unnatural state. 

  So, behind it’s pleasing color aesthetic, Seabrook is nothing but a symbol of an ugly history of misunderstanding.

CHARACTER STUDIES

I. ZED

Milo Manheim plays the titular role of Zed, a teenage zombie

At a glance: The main zombie in the movie is Zed Necrodopolous (“necro” being an humorous hint towards zombies’ relations to bodies and death), a teenage boy who wastes no time giving us the breakdown of zombie life in Seabrook. Not only are zombies cast to live inside a barricade known as “Zombietown”, the creatures are also banned from owning pets, and must wear government-issued overalls and Z-Bands. Despite the setbacks, Zed has found a way to make the best of the situation. He customizes his overalls, downloads games on his Z-Band, and pretends to be a dog for his little sister, Zoey, who really wants one. This “roll-with-the-punches”, humble attitude is what makes Zed so likeable. And this is crucial to younger viewers who instantly need to see past Zed’s skin/hair color and existence as a zombie. His personality must shine through: he’s shown to be goofy, sweet, a fan of football, and a good brother and son. Exempt from greasy hair and bad acne, Zed is a normal teenage boy - but in order to deliver the metaphor for racism, the viewer must remember that simply because his skin is a pale grey and his hair is an electric green, he is not.

A human Zed takes Addison out for frozen yogurt

In relation to Addison: Many believe Zeddison’s first encounter to be in the Seabrook Zombie Safe Room when Addison reacts to Zed’s appearance as a zombie with fear and defensively punches him in the face. However, the couple’s first encounter happens long before - as soon as the movie’s first musical number (“My Year”) ends, Zed notices Addison and is instantly smitten. Perhaps this is why when he realizes it is her who has socked him in the face, he’s able to shrug it off. He doesn’t let his friends dissuade him from liking her either - he wants to believe she’s one of the better humans. While this hope is diminished when he finds Addison planning to egg his house for cheer initiation, it’s soon restored when she apologizes and invites him and his friends to the pep rally. There, he heroically catches a falling Addison after a cheer stunt gone wrong and in perfect Disney fashion, the romance is solidified as they gaze into one another’s eyes. After this incident, the two interact like a true couple, with Zed even taking Addison to Zombietown to see his way of life which she enthusiastically embraces (“BAMM!”). The night nearly ends with a Zeddison kiss, but is interrupted by the Zombie Patrol Squad, who intercept Addison. It seems to be the end for the pair - Addison’s parents insist of meeting their daughter’s mystery boy before she can engage in any more outside activities - but Zed’s smart thinking saves them. By upping the dosage from his Z-Band, Zed is able to appear human, a painful sacrifice he’s willing to make to save their relationship. However, the action deeply saddens Addison and she consistently reminds Zed that he doesn’t need to change - the institution does. Whenever Zed feels insecure about his status as a zombie, Addison is there to give him the confidence to be proud of himself.  She’s a good fit for Zed, she wants truly wants the best for him and all of the zombies.

In his natural state, Zed is on the loose

Personal Sacrifice: Now Zed is not without fault. In fact, his main fault seems to be his overwhelming desire to be normal. He wants to be accepted and have a good high school experience. He has a lot to offer, but as a zombie is often turned away. This is perfectly illustrated through Zed’s struggles with the Seabrook football team. At the tryouts, he’s the only one to not make the team, on clear grounds that it is strictly because he’s a zombie. After a glitch with his Z-Band causes him to display his strength he’s allowed to walk-on, but will be kicked off unless the team wins. His best effort proves futile - in the first game, his team members play against him and make any type of winning outcome difficult. He’s purposely targeted and singled-out, made to wear a special jersey with no number, just the letter ‘Z’. At halftime, his coach orders him to use his Z-Band and Zed obliges, ignoring warnings from best friend Eliza about the dangers. With Zed’s zombie strength the team comes out on top with the first win for Seabrook football in a long time. Zed is now a force to be reckoned with and immediately uses this power to better the lives of zombie students at Seabrook. “No more classrooms in a dingy basement,” he tells the Principal, “and full integration for zombie students in the cafeteria.” And while the principal allows zombie students to sit in a corner of the cafeteria, she won’t see about better classroom conditions until Zed continues to win games. That’s right - Zed is carrying the burden of all zombie students at Seabrook on his back - or rather, in his Z-Band. He’s also getting what he desired - acceptance. As the football team deepens their winning streak, Zed is heartily embraced by Seabrook students. At one point, life is pretty dang good for the zombie boy. He’s the star of the football team, is dating a pretty cheerleader, and has gotten his friends involved in clubs of their interest at school. But just as quickly as it started, the good life comes crashing down. In the championship game, Zed’s Z-Band is hacked by mischievous cheerleaders, causing him to go full-zombie. His friends are hacked too and chaos ensues as people quickly flee for their lives in panic.

Zombie Patrol eventually captures and calms the creatures to the relief of the crowd who berate zombies, fueling the hatred that kept Zed’s kind out of public schools, off of football teams, and inside the barricade. It is here where Addison steps in and reprimands the townspeople for placing expectations of normalcy on Zed that caused him to endanger his life, rather than simply accept him for who he was. 

Which brings us to our next character...

II. ADDISON

Meg Donnelly portrays Addison, Zed’s love interest in the movie

At a glance: If anyone in this movie is more than they appear, it’s Addison. As far as first impressions go, she’s off to an awful start - her peppiness is made obvious from the start as she performs a corny cheer about starting freshman year before “noticing” the viewer. It’s an instant thumbs down...until she reveals to the viewer a secret. In the perfect town of Seabrook, where anything different is discouraged, Addison wears a blonde wig to cover her real hair - an awfully layered, stark white mess. The viewer is left intrigued - this girl is obviously more than she appears. But Addison knows acceptance for her hair is a long way out. Her family is filled with success - her cousin Bucky is captain of the undefeated cheer team at Seabrook High, her father is chief of the police force (more specifically a subdivision dubbed “Zombie Patrol Squad”), and her mother is mayor of the town. To reveal her real hair would bring shame not only to her, but to her family, and destroy their positions of successful authority within the town. So she wears the blonde wig in compliance with Seabrook’s expectations, but deep down, Addison yearns for a change in the town social norms - a change that would allow people like her to be accepted as themselves. Perhaps this is why when zombies are integrated into Seabrook High, she is excited. 

Addison worriedly asks Zed about his Z-Band during a timeout

In relation to Zed: Now, her first impression of Zed is surface-level: he’s a zombie and zombies are bad. A misunderstanding in a dark room causes Addison to punch the poor creature once the lights turn on and his true form is revealed, but she quickly apologizes after noticing how he is “not hideous.” If anything is surface-level, it would be that - feeling sorry for assaulting someone because of their attractiveness - but how else will younger viewers understand a crush? Sigh. Anyways, it’s fair to say Addison’s colorblindness towards Zed is what truly helps propel their romance forward throughout the movie. Before the physical assault, the two had held a conversation about their respective tryouts that day: football for Zed and cheer for Addison. As aforementioned, the passion for after-school athletics is a strong one, because Addison soon finds herself quite smitten for the tall zombie boy. Her goal is to make him and his kind feel accepted - she invites Zed and his friends to the school pep rallies, welcomes them to the cafeteria and apologizes for the actions of discrimination they face at the hands of Seabrook students. She knows things need to change and tries her best to do what she can, but it’s not until her relationship with Zed deepens that she grows angry at the institutionalized discrimination.

Donning her natural hair, Addison sings to the crowd with confidence

Personal Sacrifice: Addison likes Zed - she really likes him. She sees him as so much more than a zombie - he may not be a human, but he is definitely a being. She meets his friends and family, she goes to see his “side of the tracks”, she tries to learn his language, and she loudly cheers for him during football games. Despite how these actions may seem normal for someone in a relationship, they break all the rules she’s been told. But the rebellion of being with Zed is thrilling to her. She reveals her secret to him with ease, it helps him understand she wants a change not just for zombies, but herself too. However, Addison is soon forced to show that she is not just talk. When the hacking of his Z-Band causes Zed to return to his instincts, Addison abandons her wig to the repulsed townspeople and heavily reprimands them for their intolerance of difference. Her hair remains in its natural state for the rest of the movie, and her relationship with the zombies is stronger than ever - she is seemingly disowned by her parents following the discarding of her wig but she doesn’t care. By the end it is clear: Addison is ready to do what is right and will sacrifice all she has known because she loves Zed. Or more specifically, she “gar gar ga zas” him.

BUCKY, THE “PHYSICAL VILLAIN”

Trevor Tordjman portrays the egotistical male cheerleader

It is rare that a children’s movie does not have a villain. Kids are impressionable and “good” and “evil” must clearly be defined or seen. It is simply not enough to have the prejudice against zombies act as the the antagonist (despite being strong enough). That prejudice must take a physical form into something the viewers can see and blame. Thus, racism is embodied in a narcissistic cheerleader named Bucky. 

Bucky taunts the new Zombie students through a fence

But Bucky is not allowed to be one-dimensional, which can only be appreciated by older viewers. He has a clear connection to our characters - a literal bloodline connection - being Addison’s older cousin. He knows her secret of wearing a wig, so one would assume he would despise the rules of perfection that keeps one his family members in hiding. Instead, Bucky fully embraces the social norms, and in turn, they embrace him. 

Bucky is extremely popular, quite literally the face of Seabrook cheer, and thrives in the spotlight. He happily signs autographs for those who adore him and he is consistently accompanied by three cheerleaders (the Aceys) who are of his service. When zombies arrive at Seabrook, Bucky sees that his perfect world is under threat and thus uses his influence to spread hatred. He orders new cheerleaders to egg zombie houses in Zombietown, has cheerleaders perform with fire sticks to exploit zombies’ fear of fire, and removes anyone who embraces zombie culture off the squad. The thought of tolerating zombies is incomprehensible to Bucky, despite Addison’s persistent pleas that he try to embrace them. 

In genuine confusion, Bucky listens to Addison defend cheering for Zed

Now, Bucky is smart and he is certainly not stupid. He’s on to his cousin’s crush for Zed, and does his best to put a stop to it. Now, THIS is where Bucky gets interesting because he wavers on behaving more like a bad ex-boyfriend than a concerned family member. He harshly removes Addison from her interactions with Zed and criticizes her for associating with zombies. One would think Bucky would pull out all the stops to end Zeddison, but unfortunately, the boy is too busy preparing for the cheer championship. Speaking of cheer, this is where viewers are really able to see Bucky’s bullying nature. His dislike is not solely for zombies, but a lack of perfection. During cheer tryouts, he is seen shoving those who are imperfect out of the way, as well as ripping the tryout numbers of those who make a mistake (“Fired Up”). He reluctantly allows Bree, a curvy African-American girl, on the cheer team at the insistence of Addison despite his initial argument of her clearly not looking the part he wants Seabrook cheer to put forward. 

A determined Addison and a worried Bree at cheer tryouts

And if it isn’t lack of perfection, then it’s being upstaged that clearly drives Bucky to do bad. When it becomes clear that Zed has stolen Bucky’s adoring student audience, he sends the Aceys to sabotage him, leading to the Z-Band hack. The action ultimately backfires as a rogue Zed nearly kills him and Bucky is forced to face the monster he drew out. By the cheer championship, Bucky is in deep conflict. He still can’t swallow fully accepting zombies, but ultimately agrees to co-exist. This is a powerful message to convey, especially to young children. You don’t have to love everyone who’s different, but at the end of the day, they still deserve respect. Thus, Bucky as a physical villain is useful in pushing the racism agenda forward because as the personification of discrimination and hate, Bucky is able to show the problems that come with being completely one-minded.

Bucky angrily watches Zombie students sit in the cafeteria

SONG ANALYSIS

“My Year”

The opening number of the movie is bright and peppy, providing character introductions and coordinated dance numbers. A few key lyrics:

Lyrics:

“On this side we can all keep winning, if we just try to fit in” (Addison) 

Interpretation:

On this side (Seabrook), trying to fit in and be perfect means success. 

Lyrics:

“But, it ain’t so bad on this side of the tracks” (Zed)

Interpretation:

particularly impoverished (and usually dangerous or undesirable as a result). "Tracks" refers to railroad tracks, which are sometimes thought of as demarcating different economic areas of a town.

Lyrics:

“Yeah, you got a point, but today’s an improvement/ ‘Cause baby steps is still movement” (Zed)

Interpretation:

Zed adopts a MLK view, accepting the small victories for zombies while his friend Eliza is more Malcolm X, calling for radical action against the establishment

“Someday”

Someday is a duet in which Zed and Addison dream of a time where they will be allowed to openly be together. Key lyrics:

Lyrics:

“I know it might be crazy

But did you hear the story?” (Zed)

“I think I heard it vaguely

A girl and a zombie” (Addison)

Interpretation:

Zed and Addison jokingly pretend to be in the future, believing that their relationship goes down in history and is now a story that is told amongst everyone.

Lyrics:

“Ooh, I've got a feeling

If you get to know me” (Addison)

Interpretation:

While Zed sings of her perfection, Addison teasingly hints at being more than she appears

Lyrics:

“Someday

This could be, this could be ordinary” (Both)

Interpretation:

Someday,

A relationship like theirs would not turn heads and cause scrutiny

Lyrics:

“You and me side by side (yeah, yeah)

Out in the broad daylight” (Both)

Interpretation:

The two would be able to take their relationship public and not sneak around. Any discouragement will be met with confidence of them one day being accepted.

Lyrics:

“If different was a super power

We'd be so flawless” (Addison)

Interpretation:

The two know a relationship like theirs is different and breaks all kinds of rules. If being different was expected, then they’d be perfect.

“BAMM!”

In Zombietown, Addison is introduced to zombie culture through a hip-hop dance routine and song mainly delivered by Zed.

Lyrics:

“We're the same, but different

Just like you, I got hopes and wishes

Itchin' to show the world what they're missing” (Zed)

Interpretation:

Zed wishes for the humans to see that they are more similar to zombies than they think. Zombies have goals and desires, and Zed wants to show humans what they are missing out on.

“Stand”

Following the arrest of Zed and his friends, Addison internally processes the conflict of doing what is right and going against everything she knows.

Lyrics:

“No some things are different than we thought

There's more to life than what we're taught” (Addison)

Interpretation:

Addison knows the ideology of Seabrook is problematic and wrong. She knows it is beneficial to embrace new ways of life and cultures.

Lyrics:

“How can I just forget all the things in my head?

Just stand, oh, you just stand 

And if I stand, will I fall?

Trying to knock down these walls

What if I don't know where I stand?” (Addison and Bucky)

Interpretation:

Internally conflicted on whether or not to stand tall and speak in support of zombies, Bucky sings about going against what he knows and the risks that come with it. Addison encourages him to take the leap, but in the end, Bucky decides he is undecided on the matter.

CONCLUSION

With the barrier broken down, Zed and Addison happily embrace

In conclusion, Zombies is one of the decade’s best allegories of racism through its expert portrayal of interracial relationships, institutionalized discrimination, and the danger of groupthink. To some it may appear as nothing but a love story, and to others, just another Disney musical, but it is nothing but an example of how to simplify and personify controversial themes and explain them to younger viewers in a skilled manner. When compared to the catalogue of other Disney Channel Original Movies, Zombies stands out. We need more movies like this one - it would be impertinent to deprive the upcoming youth of themes that are prevalent in life. Zombies is set apart because its “good vs. evil” applies to real-world problems, oppression and racism - and is not just cut and dry “good vs. evil”. 

Because, let’s be honest, rarely are people evil for no reason. There is always an underlying motivation and in the history of humanity we have seen that the stem of most evil has come from fear - a theme that Zombies shows perfectly.

[that-scouse-wizard]

Sightseeing Part Two

`A/N: Welcome to part two of Sightseeing, hope you guys enjoy my interpretation of Liverpool’s wizarding community. All I’ll say for the moment... Scouse Elves.

Also, just a couple of Face Claims for some OCs who are going to appear in this:

Thomas Tremblay Thornwood III A.K.A Old Tom: Mark Addy (also voice claim).

Marcus Jacques: Daniel John-Jules. Voice Claim: Levi Roots.

MC friends: Judith Harris @judediangelo75

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Judith let out a startled yelp that turned to shrieks as she and David dropped onto an almost-vertical slope, sliding down it and beginning to quickly pick up speed. It was made of a smooth, black marble laced with white lines, bright lights intermittently illuminating the passage. 

Judith however couldn’t have given less of a damn about how it looked in that moment. There was nothing to hold onto except David’s hand, tightening her grip with what felt like near bone-crushing strength. Her friend was the only familiar thing on the slide and she wasn’t about to let him go. 

Although in contrast to her, David was having the time of his life, laughing like a madman. All Judith could do was pause her screaming briefly as she gave him an incredulous look, at least he wasn’t worried. The slope was rapidly becoming less steep, eventually curving until it plateaued. The remaining momentum the two friends had still moved them forward to the end of a short tunnel heading towards a warm, orange glow.

Slowing, then eventually stopping, the two found themselves in a fairly busy pub. Red brick pillars held the building up. The flagstones of the floor were a deeper red, cut into hexagonal shapes and lined black. The tables were fairly small, pushed up against the walls of the pub to make a clear pathway through the building, each one accommodating two to four stools. Lanterns lit with candles, some on the table others levitated around in a fixed pattern illuminated the establishment, giving it a homely feel despite the simplicity.

A long, mahogany bar was being tended to by an unshaven, portly man. His receding black hair was flecked with grey, his stubble already having turned the same colour. 

Behind the bar was lined with various drinks on shelves, most notably though was a pair of broomsticks crossed over one another. Two flags were hung either side of the X-shape. One, like the flagstones, was red with the side profile of a lion in mid-roar painted in black. The other was a smart, marine blue with a white eagle painted on it, also from a side profile with the eagle looking to be in mid-strike as if getting ready to attack its prey. The two symbols were positioned to be facing each other as if their respective mascots were about to do battle.

Quidditch teams clearly, though Judith didn’t recognise them at all. 

David got up, Judith followed, her hand still firmly clasped in his as he guided off the black marble platform they found themselves on. Any interest other patrons had of the new arrivals quickly dwindled. Judith looked around taking in the sight, it was certainly very... red. Finally letting go of David’s hand, she balled it into a fist and promptly punched him in the arm.

“Ow! Judith what was that for?” David yelped, though both the grin and the laugh that accompanied his question made it clear he knew exactly why he’d received it.

“For taking me on that.” Judith hissed, gesturing to the exit of the slide.

David shrugged, “I said ‘brace yourself’.” He responded cheekily.

Judith looked thoroughly unimpressed, “What part of ‘brace yourself’ means ‘I’m going to put you on a bloody death trap?’”

A raucous laugh was what she got in response, though it didn’t come from David. The bartender seemed to be enjoying the show, “Friend of yours, David?” He asked with a chuckle, his accent making it known he was from Yorkshire.

 “She is,” David confirmed, sounding quite proud of the fact, “This is Judith, a friend of mine from Hogwarts. Judith, this is Tom, he runs the pub.”

The old man beamed at the introduction, “Thomas Tremblay Thornwood III, most people just call me Old Tom. Welcome to The Purple Griffin. Is it your first time visiting Under Mersey, Judith?” He asked kindly.

“Yes.” Judith answered quietly, giving a nod. The bartender seemed nice, if a little loud.

“Thought so,” He smirked, “Now, important question, Red or Blue?” He asked, slightly louder, a few patrons and even David looked to Judith expectantly.

“Um...” Judith mumbled, a bit confused as to what the question meant. They were both colours she wore and liked though she supposed did prefer red..., “Red.” She answered, the reaction from everyone who was bothered to listen was immediate.

“We’ve got another Lion’s fan lads!” Tom declared, causing those who had taken an interest to either cheer, others let out groans of disapproval. 

David was one of those who was pleased with her answer, giving her a slap on the back, “I knew you’d make the right choice.”

“Can you at least tell me what choice I made?” Judith asked, really needing some context.

“Liverpool Lions, Everton Eagles,” David said pointing at the red and blue flag respectively, “Both are Liverpool teams and frequently top contenders in the Amateur Division of the British and Irish Quidditch League. They’re fierce rivals with most other teams, but it’s at their worst with each other.” That explained it, Judith only knew of the twelve teams that were considered professional.

“And you support the Lions?” Judith asked, 

“That’s right, had to go with the Reds all the way.” David grinned. 

“Ah.” Judith nodded knowingly, her friend supported Liverpool Football Club, so she supposed it made sense he would be a fan of their Quidditch equivalent.

“In fact...” David began as he started rummaging through the pouch of coins his mother had given him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Taking out six sickles before putting the silver coins on the bar and sliding them over to Tom, “Give us the Lion’s Summertime Specials.” Tom took the silvers with a conspiring grin.

“Take away?” The bartender asked, receiving a nod from David. At that prompt, Tom produced two cold bottles of butterbeer, causing Judith to give both of them a questioning look.

“I thought butterbeer was worth two sickles each?” She asked.

“Not the way Tom does them, watch.” David stated, now Judith was curious. Tom took out two large cups, emptying the contents of the bottles into them before calling out.

“Crocky! I need two pomegranates, and a mortar and pestle.”

“On it Tom!” A high-pitched scouse accent called back. It wasn’t long before the odd assortment of items was floated into the bar from the back area of the pub, guided by a house elf dressed in a starch-white chef’s outfit. His big, grey eyes only glancing at David and Judith briefly.

Judith’s eyes widened at that, the only house elves she had met were treated poorly at best, like slaves at worst. They would never refer to their master so casually, it was unheard of. The fact that this house elf had a healthy, lean build compared to the thin, frail frames of most other elves was another indicator something odd was going on. That wasn’t even mentioning how well-dressed the elf was. Perhaps David would know.

“Thank you.” Tom said to Crocky as he began deseeding the pomegranates, emptying the seeds into the mortar and starting to grind them up. The house elf disappeared back into the kitchens.

Judith watched the sight, curious as to see just what Tom was doing. It took a moment but Tom’s strong arms eventually ground down the seeds into a fine pulp. Mixing the juice into the butterbeer with a wooden stirrer briefly dyed the drink an orange colour. It didn’t last long as the mixture fizzed from the stirring, a scarlet hue quickly overtaking the contents of the cup, causing the foam on top to turn a light pink. 

“Go on then, drink up.” Tom said, looking ready to receive their verdict.

Judith took her cup, intrigued at the idea of a fruity-tasting butterbeer, Briefly knocking her cup against David’s one before taking a sip. It still had a sweet taste to it but lessened from the sour edge of the pomegranate juice. Yet the extra flavour wasn’t overwhelming, in fact it was quite refreshing, more so an ordinary butterbeer.

“It’s nice,” Judith responded positively.

“Good as always Tom.” David said, nodding in agreement.

“Glad I haven’t lost my touch.” The bartender grinned. The deep, rhythmic tolling of a bell from outside suddenly cut in, ringing twelve times before it was silenced, “Sounds like lunch time, you could always have some pub grub but I reckon that you’ll want to show your friend around Under Mersey won’t you, David?”

“That’s right.” David said.

“Well, off with you both then,” He said, making a shooing motion with his hand, “Just remember our motto.”

“Do us harm and we bring the weight of the Mersey down on your head.” David echoed with a grin.

“Exactly. Enjoy your time out there you two.” With that statement from the bartender, the two friends stepped out into the streets of Under Mersey.

-----------------

Judith was impressed, Under Mersey was definitely not like Diagon Alley. It wasn’t just a single alley. This place was an entire town, quite literally under the noses of muggles. 

Yet despite it being underground in a cavern that must have taken years to carve out, yet strangely, it felt no different to how it had been on the surface. It was warm with just the faintest hint of a sea breeze. A huge enchanted lantern acted like a miniature sun, moving slowly in tandem with the time displayed on a prominent clock tower on the southern end of the town. An illusory sky was even being maintained to mirror the weather on the surface.

The streets were a mix of cobblestone and pavements. Most buildings had chimneys that stretched far upwards, acting as support to the ceiling above. Four pillars at the four corners of the town also seemed to assist in holding up the ceiling, yet unlike the chimneys, they didn’t appear to be directly attached to any other building. It was certainly a feat of architecture that wizards had even managed to do this.

It wasn’t simply dull and lifeless though, Judith saw more than a few colourful plants growing either in planters on the streets or accommodated on outside window sills of buildings.

Luckily, David was willing to explain everything to her.

“Basically, we’re right under the River Mersey that runs by Liverpool. Vents on the ceiling and the chimneys are enchanted at either end to filter the air through. It’s why we’re able to breathe, and why the entire place isn’t flooded. The Pillars are where the town gets its water supply from. Pipes run underneath the streets to get it to the buildings. Not bad that it’s still around, seeing as construction began in 1801 and finished in 1823.”

Judith gave an impressed whistle. Whoever had come up with this, and even spent more than two decades seeing it through to completion must have had both ambition and patience.

“So what’s the deal with Old Tom and... Crocky was it?” Judith asked after having a sip from her butterbeer. They had left the building behind as they walked, though it could be easily found again, no other building had the same lavender hue as the brickwork the pub was made out of. Still, she was curious of the relationship between Tom and his house elf.

“That’s right,” David confirmed, “Far as I know, Old Tom is a squib, born to a pure-blood family. Don’t know when he and Crocky met but apparently, Tom gave him that chef’s uniform, Crocky just stuck around as an employee.”

“Really?” Judith asked in surprise. If any owner actually gave their house elf a piece of clothing, chances are they would take it and run. It spoke volumes of Crocky’s loyalty if he truly cared for the person who was apparently his ex-master.

“Yeah, I’ve been around them outside of working hours, the two of them act like best mates. Some even say Under Mersey is actually run by house elves.” Judith looked confused at the last part of David’s statement, causing him to elaborate, “The lantern, the ‘sky’, even the charms on the vents and chimneys? All of it is managed and maintained by house elves. The wizards and witches bring in business and live here. Some are even in charge of overseeing maintenance but ultimately it’s the elves who stop the place from bein’ destroyed.”

“Wow.” Judith said, marvelling at the sights again. She had a respect for the house-elves, putting up with so much. Quite literally holding this place together was just another feat that only cemented that sentiment.

Judith would have loved to explore the town a bit more but for the moment she was starting to feel a bit peckish...

“How about we go get some food?” David said.

Judith grinned at her friend practically reading her mind, “Sounds good, let’s go!” With that prompt, David guided Judith closer to the centre of the town.

This part of Under Mersey was by far the most active and Judith could see why, it seemed to be where most of the town’s shops were located. A wandmaker, a book shop, and practically every other kind of shop a wizard or witch could need. 

A stone fountain was the centrepiece for the town square. Two cormorants that towered over people, being at least eight feet tall. They faced away from each other, one looking west, the other looking east, the tips of their outstretched wings almost touching. A sprig of seaweed was clasped in their beaks.

However, both friends wanted to follow their stomachs at the moment and they certainly had options...

Looking one way, Judith could see that an odd assortment of restaurants had been packed into a single long street, thronging with people eager for lunch.. Chinese, Indian, Turkish. Spanish, Greek, French. Those were just some of the ones Judith noted. 

Yet despite the range of mouth-watering scents. the tempting food on display and even the occasional encouragement from a place’s owner, there was just one that really caught Judith’s eye.

A lot smaller when compared to the other restaurants, hanging above its doors was a string of flags. One of which was had three stripes blue on both sides, gold in the middle, with the head of a black trident in its centre.

That was the flag of Barbados, accompanied by flags of the other Caribbean islands. Above them was the name of the restaurant, only confirming Judith’s suspicions, Jacques’ Caribbean Cuisine. Judith knew exactly where she wanted to go, making a b-line for the restaurant as David followed close behind.

“Welcome,” A friendly tone was the first thing the pair of friends heard. Greeting them was a somewhat tall, lean and dark-skinned man. He was balding with a greying goatee, the hair he had left turning the same colour. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood despite his restaurant being empty in such a rush, “What can I interest you kids in today?”

Judith perked up at the man’s accent, it was similar to her Barbadian one, he definitely wasn’t British, “Where are you from?” Judith asked the man excitedly.

A bit confused at his question not being answered, the man responded, “Jamaica, and yourself?”

“I’m from Barbados.” She answered proudly, the man’s eyes went wide at that.

“Really? Girl if I was born a few decades later, you and me would have practically been neighbours!” He said enthusiastically, Judith grinned at, “And you boy?”

“Local.” David answered proudly, gesturing above..

“Ah, good, I like Liverpool. Think it’s a good city.” He said in approval, “Marcus Jacques, I came over here on request of the Ministry about thirty years ago. I was about twenty then, I’m fifty now.”

“Wait, I think I’ve heard of you,” David said in realisation. Judith looked at her friend curiously, “You started all of well... that outside.”

Marcus took on a smug expression at that, “Right you are, I got shipped up here by the Ministry, I was asked to come over after that war the muggles had in the fourties and decided the food this side of  the wizarding world could do with a bit more variety. Now don’t get me wrong, British food can be nice. Crocky at the Purple Griffin makes a great shepherd’s pie but I needed something to remind me of home. A couple more people got interested in the idea and we thought it would be nice to set up in the local community.” The man let out a chuckle, clearly reminiscing. David and Judith listening intently for him to continue, there was always a ‘but’ in these situations.

“See, a few in the local Ministry at the time were quite insular about new things coming in, they kicked up a fuss. We kicked up a bigger one and what you see outside is the result of the wizarding community here using the cultures right on their doorstep not too much differently to how the muggle side does. Anyway, enough of an old man’s ramblings, how about I give the two of you a taste of the Caribbean?”

“Yes please!” Judith said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, “Do you serve brown stew chicken?” 

“’Do I serve brown stew chicken?’“ Marcus echoed back in a playfully sarcastic manner, “Of course I do, I’ll get right on it.” Yet he didn’t ask David what he wanted, “For you boy, I’ve got something special. Call it a Caribbean twist on something considered British.” 

Judith looked eager as she took a seat while David shrugged in acceptance. The owner leaving the two friends alone as he set to work in the kitchen.

“So, what do you think of your first time in Liverpool?” David asked eagerly as he sat across from his friend. 

“It’s... nice, I’ve had fun so far,” Judith answered honestly, “Though, can I ask something?”

“Yeah go on Judith.” 

“Can we plan these holidays in advance next time?” David looked perplexed at the question, “Please, David.” She quietly begged.

Though he was still a bit confused, David knew Judith wouldn’t just ask him a question like that out of the blue. He was sure she had a good reason, “Of course  we can Judith, whatever you want.”

Judith looked immensely grateful for his positive response, “Thank you David. You know, one of these days, I’ll have to take you to Barbados. It’s a beautiful country, white sandy beaches, lush greenery, the sea shining like sapphire.” She stated, clearly proud of her homeland.

David gave her a smile, “I’d like that, and now that you’ve described it for me, I’ll have to go.”

“To our future holidays?” Judith asked, raising up the half-full cup of butterbeer. 

David raised own, though his was almost empty, “To Liverpool, Lancaster and Barbados... one of those destinations is not like the other two.” He finished with a chuckle. Judith had to laugh as they knocked the cups together. From there on, the two settled into a content silence, it wasn’t long before Marcus came by with their food.

“Hope you kids enjoy.” He said, placing their meals and cutlery in front of them. 

Judith’s was several pieces of chicken covered in a rich, brown gravy that contained pieces of carrot and onion. Served with fluffy, white rice that soaked up any of the gravy was in contact with. 

David’s was comparatively simpler. It looked like fish and chips, strangely, the fish was in pieces. The batter looked crispy and light but was flecked with spots of red. The accompaniments... looked like very thick-cut chips but they just... weren’t.

“Saltfish fritters, and boiled and fried breadfruit.” Marcus confirmed.

Judith had already begun tucking in to her food, clearly enjoying it, “Mmm.” She managed to hum to satisfaction through a mouthful of food, giving a thumbs up.

David cut a small piece off the fish with a particularly prominent red fleck. It was nice, the batter was crispy, the fish soft with a distinct taste of salt. Then... hot... it was spicy. David began panting like a dog as he felt his nose starting to run.

“Oh no... I think he bit into a piece of scotch bonnet.” Marcus realised, “Hang on, I’ll get you some yoghurt.” It would be the only thing that could relieve the spiciness.

While Marcus sped into the kitchen again, Judith couldn’t help but laugh a bit at her friends misfortune, “David you’re a beater, and you can’t handle a bit of spice?” She chuckled, David couldn’t even muster a retort, just glare, causing Judith to let out another laugh, “Hey this is what you get for surprising me with how you got us here.” 

[aion-rsa]

Ted Lasso’s Evolution From NBC Sports Ad Buffoon to Lovable Sitcom Hero

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When the world first met Ted Lasso, he was half the man he is today…maybe even a quarter (incidentally, what the fish-out-of-water American football coach thought UK ‘soccer’ matches were played in instead of halves). The character originated in a 2013 TV ad commissioned to mark NBC Sports’ acquisition of the US broadcast rights to English Premier League games. Titled ‘An American Coach in London’, it was a five-minute comedy sketch created as a showcase for the peculiarities of the English sport for US fans, and as a riff on the clumsy yank abroad stereotype. 

The premise saw Lasso imported to coach Premier League team Tottenham Hotspurs – or, as he calls them, ‘The Spurs’ – despite having no grasp of the game’s rules or context. He gets the lingo wrong, the rules wrong, the training wrong, and is totally unaware that everybody thinks he’s a complete tit. 

In a 2013 behind-the-scenes interview with Spurs TV, Jason Sudeikis explained:

“I’m playing an American football coach who’s come over to Tottenham to implement American football things, styles and ways into soccer, into European football… unsuccessfully, I would say. Comedically, hopefully, but definitely unsuccessfully.”

Created by Sudeikis with fellow Saturday Night Live writer Joe Kelly and actor Brendan Hunt, this version of Ted Lasso was a dolt with zero self-awareness. In the 2014 follow-up ad, he’s a buffoon whose naive idiocy and childlike excitement wrecks live TV broadcasts. The comedy comes from the combination of unshakeable self-belief, ineptitude, and certain failure. 

Not that Ted let failure get him down. Despite having lasted only six hours at “The Spurs”, he cherished his time in England and decorated his US apartment with an English theme (including an Easter Egg appearance of an LP by renowned English punk band Ian Rubbish and the Bizzaros, whose lead singer bears a striking resemblance to SNL’s Fred Armisen.)

While the NBC Sports ads laid out the basic premise of what would become Apple TV+ series Ted Lasso, major changes were made. The series dropped its Christopher Guest/The Office mockumentary format, and Ted’s character was remoulded from sure-to-fail cretin to might-just-work optimist. In the ads, Ted’s ignorance and Homer Simpson-ish larking about irritated the people around him. In the show, his ray-of-sunshine kindness lifts them up. The ads asked viewers to laugh at a yokel getting it wrong without knowing how hopeless he is. The show asks viewers to root for a kinder way of doing things.

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The idea to work Ted Lasso up from skit character to sitcom lead was suggested in 2015 by Jason Sudeikis’ then-partner, actor-director Olivia Wilde. Sudeikis, Kelly, and Hunt wrote a pilot and series outline, before bringing on producer Bill Lawrence (Scrubs, Cougar Town), who emphasised the need to give the character vulnerability.

Though played for laughs, there was a glimpse of vulnerability in the 2013 NBC Sports ad. Lasso’s upbeat definition of his new club nickname – ‘wanker’ – plays over a montage of him training with the team. “I think it just means ‘great’ like, nice guy, kind heart, someone that listens, someone that’ll push ya!” he says. A clip of him standing solo on the pitch, clearly not popular, plays as he continues. “A wanker is someone that doesn’t mind being alone, likes to sit with his thoughts.” It’s a briefly poignant hint of things to come.

In the TV series, Ted’s vulnerability comes from the breakdown of his marriage. At the start of the show, it’s revealed that he took the job thousands of miles from home to give his wife the space she asked for. Watching him cope with his pain while devoting every effort to supporting the players of fictional team AFC Richmond and their various woes, makes Ted a sympathetic, inspirational lead. It’s not only the players Ted nurtures, but also team owner Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham), who’s recently out of a controlling marriage to a man who takes pleasure in undermining and humiliating her. 

Ted’s transformation from unsophisticated oaf to an engine of hope and decency is a comedy character triumph. Swapping his idiocy for quiet wisdom and sage principles (he’s led by the Walt Whitman quote “Be curious, not judgmental”) inverted the original incarnation’s cliché about Americans abroad and created one of the US’ finest exports. 

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Ted Lasso season 2 arrives on Apple TV+ on Friday the 23rd of July.

The post Ted Lasso’s Evolution From NBC Sports Ad Buffoon to Lovable Sitcom Hero appeared first on Den of Geek.

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