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violetarks · 4 years

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Can you please make a happy end part 2 to Let Her In? I literally cried reading it 😭

Let Her In

Anime: My Hero Academia

Character: Bakugou Katsuki

Summary: A break was what they decided on, but it was more easy said than done. But somehow they weren't as confident as they were a few weeks ago.

Song: Certain Things — James Arthur (ft. Chasing Grace)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Y/N woke up, the sun shining towards her through the window. She shifted in her spot, sitting up and wiping her eyes. It was warm this morning, how ever shivers ran up her spine from the feeling of her body waking up. It didn't help that an arm laid on top of her waist.

It had been a week, maybe two, since Bakugou returned his copy of her apartment key. Since they last hugged and were a couple. They made no move to contact each other but didn't delete their numbers, nor try to ignore their social media.

Bakugou saw all the times Mina and Jirou came over to have movies or dinner, just to cheer Y/N up. Or Y/N when Kirishima and Kaminari took him out to drink or try to cook for him. It was nice to know the two of them were doing okay.

She glanced down to the person beside her. Y/N's apartment bed was big enough for at least three people to sleep comfortable in. She got this bed when she and Bakugou slept in the same bed for the first few times. He would toss and turn and squish against her because of their small space. So she got a bigger bed, although Bakugou got lonely and kept her closer to him. It was usually cold on Bakugou's side so he'd go over to hers.

It still smelt like him. The pillow beside her.

It was kind of weird, considering how he hasn't even set foot in her bedroom in the past few weeks.

The arm around her waist shifted as Y/N moved to stand up. She looked behind her and placed a hand on the arm. "I need to get up and make breakfast." She said, a smile on her face.

The arm pulled away from her, hearing a groan in return, "But Y/N, it's only like... 7:30!"

"No, Mina, it's 10:00." Y/N chuckled, standing up and stretching, "Why don't you just cuddle Kyoka?"

"We have separate rooms for a reason, Y/N." Jirou replied, on the other side of Mina with her eyes still closed. She then peeked over her shoulder to Y/N, who was getting a hoodie over her head. "What are you making?"

Y/N replied, walking towards the doors, "My famous omurice. I'll call you when I'm done."

She closed the door behind her before walking into the kitchen.

The girls had been staying with Y/N in her apartment for a while. At first, it was just check ins and such to make sure Y/N was travelling smoothly. And she was for a bit, until Jirou walked in on Y/N just staring at herself in the mirror in her bathroom, just playing with the ring around her finger. When Jirou touched her shoulder, Y/N began crying silently and made no move to stop. Mina and Jirou slept over from then on.

They were afraid Y/N would lose her mind over the 'break-up'. She was so excited to announce to all their friends that they were engaged and ready to be happily married.

The proposal was only three weeks before they separated. If you didn't know the two well, you would've thought they shouldn't have gotten engaged after six months of dating. But Y/N and Bakugou had been friends since UA. They'd been around each other since forever ago.

Bakugou's proposal was more of a spur of the moment decision. Of course he'd been thinking about it for ages, but it slipped out when Y/N was cleaning his wounds with alcohol. He just plainly asked 'do you want to marry me?'. And she replied with 'if you're serious, then I'd love to. But we should wait until we find the right time'.

The 'right time' being once Bakugou had free slots in his schedule, and when he confessed that he loved her. Needless to say, that would be postponed until further notice.

During breakfast at Bakugou's house, Kirishima and Kaminari barged through the door with takeout. They cheered for their friend, trying to lift his spirits.

Bakugou needed a distraction. Something to do. He took out his frustrations on the villains, nearly beating them to a pulp. He would also cook a lot. He was so used to cooking for the both of them so it was weird only cooking... so little. Kirishima and Kaminari picked up on that when they came over unexpectedly and Bakugou had set up two plates of curry. He didn't even realise until the boys asked if someone was coming over.

"Bakugou! We got you some ramen from the place you like!" Kirishima called, placing the meals on the table, "We were gonna' try and cook here, but we decided that it wasn't a good idea."

Kaminari pouted, pulling out chopsticks and napkins. "Y'know, I can make pretty good ramen too." He claimed, placing the bowls on each spot for the three of them, "You just never wanna' try it out."

Kirishima rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his hip. "That's because the last time you cooked, you somehow got your quirk involved and it electrocuted Sero's tongue." He stated before looking around the kitchen and living room, "Where is Bakugou? He said he had a day off today."

Kaminari shrugged his shoulders. They had decided to go check it out and see if Bakugou was anywhere inside the house. The two travelled towards the bedroom, seeing the door half-open.

On the bed meant for two, Bakugou was sitting on his side, flicking through his phone. He was hunched over, obviously stalking her and her friends' social medias. He gave a sigh before falling back into the mattress. It was then that he realised the two standing at his door.

"What the fuck do you want?" Bakugou questioned, wiping his face.

"Bakugou, I don't think it's healthy for you to check her page every few seconds." Kaminari said, rubbing the back of his neck slowly.

"I'm only checking to make sure of something, idiot." Bakugou said, tossing his phone onto his pillow as he closed his eyes.

Kirishima hummed, leaning against the door sill, "And what is that?"

Bakugou opened his eyes and glared at the ceiling. "That she doesn't give up on me." He sighs out quietly.

The last photo he check was the one Mina had posted a few minutes ago. Y/N was wearing a hoodie and shorts, standing in front of the stove with the egg on the pan. She looked at the camera with a soft smile as Jirou looked away. Y/N gave a small wave, letting Bakugou see the band still around her finger. It was still there.

He was worried that she'd give up on him. The first few days were Hell, all the anxiousness of Y/N taking off the ring was clouding his mind. Bakugou put all his trust in Y/N. He needed her to remember that she loved him and she said she'd wait for him.

Y/N hated to admit it but she was scared that Bakugou would never come back. Maybe he'd realise that the reason he never said those words was because he truly didn't love her. Or maybe he'd believe his statement that nobody would wait for him to be ready, and just leave. Bakugou was straight-forward. He wouldn't want to waste time.

Kaminari sat down beside Bakugou, Kirishima on the other side. His hand rested on Bakugou's shoulder as he sat up. "Dude. You sure you don't wanna' move on?" Kaminari asked warily, "You seem... stumped."

It's not that he didn't like Y/N, but Kaminari didn't like seeing Bakugou like this. Y/N and Bakugou were amazing and Kaminari loved their relationship. He didn't know where it was heading and if it should keep going. So he tried to make it better for Bakugou, as he knew the girls were doing for Y/N.

Bakugou glared at Kaminari. If looks could kill. "Fuck off, Dunce Face." He scowled, standing up and walking towards the bathroom, "I'm not gonna' move on from her. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. We're in this shitty mess because I couldn't just tell her that I..."

Fuck, he thought, too much.

Kirishima sighed once he stopped. He knew the situation. Bakugou had been beating himself up about it for days on end. He even once asked Kirishima for help, whilst saying 'hypothetically' to make it seem like he didn't really need help.

He couldn't leave her. Not when he was addicted to everything she was and is. She was the reason he hadn't gone mad yet and he'd be damned if he wasn't allowed to be in her arms again.

But maybe she'd get tired of waiting.

"What are you gonna' do?" Kirishima questioned, getting up and nudging Kaminari to do so.

"I'm hers." Bakugou whispered softly to himself, staring down at the sink. He wasn't going to cry with those guys in his room. "I don't want to be anyone else's. Just hers."

Kirishima and Kaminari heard it. They only smiled a bit before calling him to eat breakfast.

The first time they fought, like really fought, was after the Bakugou Rescue Mission. Y/N had gone with the group to save him. And he was a wreck on the way back. Y/N stayed with him at the station and walked home to his house before going to hers.

He was angry with her that she went. At the point, they were barely even friends. Well, to Bakugou, as Y/N viewed him as one of her best friends already. She had told him that she couldn't let him go. Y/N wasn't even in his class. She was in the Support Department, one of the students who worked on his suit. Which is how she met him.

He got even angrier. Why was this... person caring for him so much? He was going to yell at her when Y/N just placed her hands on his cheeks, holding his face in her palms. She glanced at him seriously before saying that she adored things and ignored others. She decided that Bakugou fit into one of those categories and it certainly wasn't the ones being ignored.

He was calmed down before heading inside.

A lot more weeks was all it took for Bakugou to finally realise that Y/N was still there.

Really, it had been seven months later. But it felt like just yesterday they had left each other.

At the supermarket, she was grabbing milk and butter. It was Mina's birthday soon and she wanted to practice making Mina's favourite cake. Y/N was determined not to mess up the recipe. Bakugou had turned the corner with his basket to get some yoghurt when he noticed her.

"Kyoka, are you sure she wants red velvet?" Y/N asked into the phone, the voice catching Bakugou's ears. He couldn't believe it. Y/N looked on the other side of the aisle and saw amounts of tubs. "Mina really likes ice cream. How about we make her something with that? What? Oh my God, Kyoka, she's 21, she want an ice cream cake."

She stopped a moment on the phone as people passed Bakugou. He was frozen in his spot, standing in the dairy aisle like a lost kid. Y/N then giggled, "Oh okay, she might. I'll try the velvet and then we can do the ice cream cake. You have sprinkles at home, right?"

He stopped on his tracks. His heart beat increased almost immediately. His eyes felt tired from staring too long. It wasn't until she turned the corner and out of his vision that he snapped back into reality.

He got his things and paid, heading home. He was thinking about Y/N, how she still looked good in her clothes and how she picked the same milk he got. A habit she got from him. Y/N was still so amazingly enchanting.

In his driveway, Bakugou hooked his fingers around the bags and pulled them inside into his house. He set the bags on the table and began to unpack them.

Y/N mentioned something about Mina's birthday party, which meant that he would have to go. It'd be the first time in months that he'd properly see her. She hadn't talked to him in ages. Would her voice still sound the same as it did that long time ago? Would she still light up when she saw him.

He would have to see her again, have to speak with her again. Maybe he would be able to say the things he never said. Bakugou's been working on himself. He really has. Just the thought of her was enough for him to drive forward.

"Was she wearing her ring?"

He mumbled it to himself. A question that drove him insane almost instantly. She was wearing. Of course! She never took it off.

Right?

So why couldn't he remember seeing the ring?

She's given up. Hasn't she?

Another two months and it was Mina's birthday. Also, by this time, it had been nine months since they last spoke or interacted. Nearly a year. It was amazing that he could last that long without talking to her.

The party was held at Mina's apartment. Jirou had reluctantly allowed it because of the last time they had one at their apartment, they spent the next two days cleaning up. Y/N offered to do it at hers, but Jirou declined. She didn't know how Y/N would feel having Bakugou at her place again.

Mina dressed Y/N up in a dress, much to her dismay as she wanted to wear jeans and a nice top. It was down to a few inches above her knees and the sleeves ran just off-the-shoulders. The dress was Mina's, and she said she wanted Y/N to look her best tonight.

Y/N knew Bakugou would be there. They were all friends, of course. She was... nervous.

Maybe Bakugou had made up his mind and said he would move on. He went out more with the guys, Sero even bringing him to the club every once in a while. Kirishima and Kaminari got him drunk a few times. Even more than he did before. But Bakugou was still himself, perhaps just more independent than before.

So he didn't need her, did he?

"Hey, Y/N!" Uraraka and Midoriya called, walking up to her, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Y/N chuckled, holding her drink to her chest, "Yeah, it has. The last thing I remember was helping Ochaco with her new upgrades." She smiled at the brunette before shrugging her shoulders. "How's it going between you two, anyway?"

Midoriya and Uraraka were married at this point. Midoriya had proposed and they got it sealed only two months later. To say Y/N was a little envious would be true. But she was happy for them.

Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, we're celebrating our one year soon." He claimed, making Y/N widen her eyes at him, "Ochaco said that she wanted to spend it with everyone, so we're planning to have people over to celebrate. You're definitely one of the top people on our list, Y/N."

Y/N giggled in return, covering her mouth a little to make it look convincing, "That's great! I'd love to come, we've been friends so long!" She downed the rest of her drink. "I'm so happy for you, Ochaco, Izuku."

Uraraka held onto Midoriya's arm closely. "Thank you, Y/N!" She laughed happily, rosy cheeks as she rings shone in the light, "Speaking of which, how are you and Bakugou?"

Y/N stopped smiling at that point. Truth be told, she hadn't tried to reach out to Bakugou mainly because of fear. The fear that he would ask why she was contacting him. The fear of Bakugou saying that he didn't want to continue this 'relationship'. The fear that he would... just let her go.

Her throat was tightening up and she felt her head spin. "Katsuki and I..." She began, fiddling with her skirt, "Well, I don't know how to say this—"

"Y/N! It's been so long!" Kirishima called out, walking towards her with his jacket on his arm, "How've you been? You look great tonight!"

Uraraka and Midoriya must've noticed the change in mood, because they quickly excused themselves as Kirishima dragged Y/N away to the balcony. He shut the door behind them, turning around to see Y/N already staring at him.

"Thank you, Eijiro." She said with a soft smile, breeze running through her hair, "I don't know how to tell the others. It's kind of difficult."

Kirishima shrugged it off easily. "It's okay. I know how you feel about Bakugou." He spoke, leaning against the balcony with her, "About that... You know he's here right?"

"Of course I know." She replied, watching the cars rush around beneath them, "You, Denki and Katuski arrived together. But don't worry, it's fine. He doesn't have to talk to me if he doesn't want to."

Kirishima glanced at her before looking away. "I'm pretty sure he does want to talk to you, Y/N." He states, tilting his head to the side, "He saw you already and made an excuse to go to the bathroom. I just think Bakugou won't know what to say."

"He should."

Kirishima looked down to her. "What do you mean?" He mumbled out to her.

A few minutes of silence passed through them.

Y/N stood up straight, hands leaving the balcony railing. She fixed her dress skirt and took a deep breath in, making sure the off-the-shoulder parts were comfortable. Walking towards the door, she looked over her shoulder.

"Because he knows that if he wants to get back together, he has to tell me something."

The door shut behind her and she walked back to get a refill on her drink. Whilst at the sodas, Jirou came up and tapped Y/N's shoulder. "It's nearly time for cake. It's in your fridge, right? Do you want me to get it?"

Y/N shook her head and gave Jirou her cup. "No, I'll get it. Just come and knock at my door if anything goes wrong." She said, making her way to the door. Jirou nodded her head.

Y/N opened the door, waving 'hello' to Yaoyorozu and Ojiro who were on the other side of the room. She failed to notice the vermillion eyes following her moves.

TAGS: @jazzylove @urmomsshousee @multi-fandom-fanfic @shydeepblue @silentw-lkr @bakugousflowerprincess (anyone crossed out was unable to be tagged)

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #anime #anime x reader

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

[I know what you did last] Halloween

Part One // Part Two // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This the third part to a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. This is a multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. This one is probably the longest, and with the largest number of deaths. 🖤🦇

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to continue to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween).

There is a reference to suicide. I do not describe anything (method, etc) in detail, it is implied. It is not the reader. Violence. Blood mention. Swearing.

Domestic Disturbances – the new norm?

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

At The Sunnydale Express, we are always using statistics to tell us what may be happening in our town. A large spike in cases tells us that more young people are getting involved in domestic disturbances, both with partners and friends.

Furthermore, young people in Sunnydale are 50% more likely to be in public places after dark and this accounts for their high numbers of disappearances and more recently, their high numbers of serial-killer related deaths.

It comes to light in the recent spate of serial killings that many young people attract attention to themselves by partying, going out late at night and allowing their friends to walk home alone.

After the argument, Cordy stalked off. She was cold. She only had on her cheerleading uniform and it barely covered her skin. She had goose bumps. Hugging herself as she walked. Still muttering under her breath about the group. She had never known a Californian evening to have such a chill in the air, it was as if she had stepped out into the arctic circle.

“Damn it!” She groaned, realising she had left her cell back at the house. She didn’t want to go back, not after she had already stormed out. She rubbed her own arms as she walked, trying to create a little more warmth.

As she walked, she had this strange feeling. As if she was being watched. She kept checking behind her, quickening her pace. She was starting to worry. She thought she had better contact her father, maybe he could pick her up seeing as her car was in the shop.

She eventually came across a payphone and stepped up to it. She took some money and dialled the number.

She heard a noise as she waited and paused, looked around. She squinted into the darkness but shrugged, stepping back up to the phone. She waited, the phone rang out and she sighed not knowing what to do. It felt as if it was getting colder and she swore she could feel eyes on her.

All at once, her fears came true. Her feeling wasn’t unfounded.

He stared, silently just watching her. When she just stared back, he knocked on the pay phone box with his scythe. She started to diall the phone quickly getting as far as ‘91-′ before he slashed the cord.

“Oh, what am I supposed to be scared? Am I supposed to, like, run away? Give you a chase?” She asked, standing toe-to-toe with the masked figure before continuing, “Well, I’m Cordelia Chase, dumbass – who the hell are you?”

“Your worst nightmare” The voice spoke as if he had been chewing knuts and bolts.

“Oh please” Cordelia replied, her hands on her hips as she arched an eyebrow, “I’m from here. Y’know Sunnydale? We slay creeps like you for breakfast”

“Slay this, murderer” He said evenly. Cordelia frowned but didn’t manage to move fast enough as he hooked her on his scythe. The hook so deep it came out the other side of her body. She looked down and screamed, scratching at the mask and trying to pull on it. The killer hadn’t been expecting it. Somehow she managed to unhook herself, whether it was adrenaline or maybe because she was used to having sharp metal stuck through her middle, she really was made of stronger stuff than he had anticipated.

She started to run, clutching her now bleeding stomach. She was going to have to find a really good surgeon to sort this mess out, she sighed. She ran as fast as she could, leaving a trail of thick blood in her wake. She started to falter. If the killer didn’t catch her, then a vampire might. This spurred her on, making her run faster.

She turned down an alley, not able to see him behind her anymore. But she didn’t slow, just kept running. That was, until she ran straight into him. He had caught her off-guard sending her straight into his path. He stared for a moment, almost savouring it before he acted. He stabbed her, slashed at her stomach. The blood sprayed over the costume as she screamed at him, mostly in anger but also out of pain.

She turned, much slower than before and started to try and get away. He paused, just watching her as she went slower and slower. She started to collapse but she didn’t stop propelling herself forwards. She was trying to fight, to survive until her last breath. She started to claw at the gravel with her nails as she ended up crawling to try to get away. The wound was too much.

The next day held yet another American horror story for you to wake up to. One that would continue to haunt you as you tried to live through the days without breaking. You felt trapped. Targeted. Like a caged animal, knowing you were next for the slaughter. But mostly, you just felt sad. Missing your friend.

The sky was overcast and grey. You had never seen weather like it in Sunnydale before. It had filled you with a sense of foreboding before you had even woken up properly.

You were all hung over, but that feeling was nothing compared to how you felt when you had heard. Willow had called but she had only sobbed and hung up on you. You waited by the phone until you had another call. From Buffy.

You had heard about Cordelia’s death the same way everyone else had, through word of mouth. Her body had been arranged publicly for unsuspecting members of the public to pass by. Everyone had told everyone. By breakfast, everyone knew and the media was playing catch-up.

You didn’t go near where her body had been left for everyone to see. You just sat in silence. Your ears ringing, not able to focus. Her body had been horribly mutilated and her intestines had been arranged so that they spelled ‘murderer’. Newspaper clippings arranged around her. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you had just walked away from everyone. Just left them to argue. You felt you were to blame.

Should we blame the parents?

Sunnydale express, October 1999. Official death toll: 6

The police have launched a case that is apparently now being investigated in connection to a now deceased young woman. The alleged murderer, Cordelia Chase, was discovered early this morning who rather ironically was caught spilling her guts to the world. We wonder why it took the act of a serial killer to reveal this. Mr Chase declined to comment.

The Sunnydale Express expects more truth to be disclosed as the vigilante (or, hero, as we may come to know him: you heard it here first) may reveal more as the weeks go on.

We wonder whether the parents should be held accountable in the same way that Ms Chase was.

The police interviews were being conducted on the entire student body. The questions were apparently to be asked about the current murders as well as this recent accusation written using Cordelia’s death.

You were waiting for your turn. You couldn’t help think that it wasn’t a coincidence that you and your remaining friends were the ones called to the principal’s office first. Snyder had never liked any of you, but he had some (in honesty, not ridiculous) suspicions about you. Especially since you looked like walking zombies in the corridors since last year.

You were sat in the waiting area, trying to keep calm. You were staring straight ahead, into a dead man’s eyes. Principal Flutie. You hadn’t really known him very long, you had probably seen this memorial plaque more than you had seen him in person.

But it made you wonder why his death wasn’t investigated with as much importance. Why, when it came to supernatural crimes did nobody ever question it? His death was pronounced natural causes. You had never met someone who had died of less natural causes than students that had been taken over by hyenas eating your face.

It also made you think that ever since those students killed the Principal, you hadn’t seen them around school anymore. You knew at least one of the girls had moved to a different state. And two of the guys played basketball… or was it football? You couldn’t recall (it wasn’t very interesting to you anyway, you were more likely to have murder on the brain). You do remember that Snyder had kept them for at least another year because they won the school trophies.

But it concerned you. It was right that Mr Bates’ death should be investigated, but there are so many other people that didn’t get this much attention afforded to their case. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone in the authorities that they hired to weed out the supernatural from the normal crimes and only focus on them.

“Y/n? Your turn” a voice told you and you got up and walked over to the door, your legs working without your brain catching up. You were mostly on autopilot now. The kind receptionist smiled sympathetically at you as you walked in, passing Willow who’s face was red and puffy. She avoided your eye contact and you felt a growing sense of dread.

You came and sat down, opposite three men. Two investigators and Snyder. As soon as you sat down, Snyder was enjoying himself, he had a sadistic smile on his face every time the officer turned back to look at you. You avoided looking at him after a while, your eyes trained only on the investigator. Snyder was agitated and you were trying to keep your composure.

“Where were you on the night of Halloween, 1998?”

“At a party – the same party everyone in town was at” You answered in short sentences, sure you would choke on your words if you tried to say anything else. They knew. About Mr Bates. They suspected you. You hadn’t known the police in Sunnydale to find a lead so quickly. It was as if they had offered themselves to the devil in exchange for half-decent investigative skills.

“Did you see Ms Chase on that date?”

“Yes I saw Cordelia on Halloween” You replied. The questions continued like that for almost an hour. Questions being asked in circles, trying to see if any of your responses changed. They sounded pleasant but there was an underlying accusatory tone that you knew was completely fair. You had, in fact, been involved in the death they were questioning you about after all.

“Do you have any further information?” The investigator asked finally.

“Have you spoken to Faith?” You asked. You didn’t know why you mentioned her specifically but you were still seething from the argument you had with her. You wanted to check, even though a part of you knew the sentence was somewhat loaded with accusation.

“Ms Lehane is not a suspect”

“But you know she was at the party and she was seen with Cordy-”

“Ms Lehane is not a suspect and we have yet to contact her lawyer for a statement”

“Her lawyer?”

“Yes, a representative from Wolfram and Hart. Why, do you need a lawyer y/n?”

“N-no, that’s okay” You offer, getting out of your seat and avoiding eye contact as you left the office.

Weird. Since when could Faith afford a lawyer? And why was she suddenly immune to the authorities? You had never thought of her as having friends in high places.

You walked straight past your class, needing some room to breathe. The walls of the corridor felt as if they were closing in and the acute feeling of misery surrounded you. Everyone felt it. Avoided you in the corridors because of it. You went into the library. Wesley saw you, he nodded, understanding you needed your space. You needed time somewhere you felt safe. The library had always made you feel this way.

You ran your finger along the spines of the books, barely paying attention as you picked one out at random and walked over to a desk in the corner with it under your arm. Even if you didn’t manage to focus on the words, it would be at least some comfort to you.

You sat down in your favourite spot and opened a book that read, ‘Ouija boards and how to use them’. Must have been in the occult section. But it did lead to an idea that started forming in your mind.

That was it. That’s what you needed to do. Maybe they would have some kind of clue, some kind of weakness. Maybe they could tell you who the masked figure really was and if you knew them. You decided you would tell the others during the lunch break that you usually spent in a melancholy silence, picking at your food.

You sat back in your chair, knowing Wesley was watching you - debating whether he should offer a friendly ear. But he ultimately decided against it, he could get a little awkward around discussing emotions and he wouldn’t know what he would do if you started crying. You felt his concern though and you looked up and nodded at him, sending him a tight smile. He returned it and quickly scurried off to do some organising of the books now he had become head librarian.

You sat back in your chair, considering everything that had gone on already today. It was enough to make your head spin. You didn’t know if you could handle much more. You were afraid. For yourself, for your friends.

There was something about these killings. Either someone had done their research or they were very lucky in picking off the exact people they needed to target. You figured it must be someone at school, you found yourself deciding you wouldn’t even be surprised if it was Snyder at this point.

It was late afternoon now and you should be in history class. So should Buffy and Willow. But none of you were. You had closed all of the curtains and lit as many candles as you could find.

You knelt down beside Willow and Buffy, a Ouija board on the coffee table that you sat around. You started to reach for each other, to hold hands but something stopped you.

There was a loud knock at the door and you all jumped violently. Maybe it was Faith finally arriving - you had been waiting for her but she had been so late you had to start without her.

“Y/n? Y/n! Is it true you were friends with Cordelia?”

“Wha-”

“Are you next? Do you think the vigilante will be coming for you now?”

“Why would-”

“Leave. Now!” Buffy shouted firmly. The reporters had all heard of Buffy and backed off slightly. But a few pictures flashed of you both before Buffy slammed the door shut on them. You thanked her softly, all of your faces solemn

The only chance you had now was to contact the spirits, hope they had some kind of information so that you could find the killer and stop him. You could offer them help too. Maybe that was the kind of atonement that would make you feel less guilt? No, you didn’t really believe that. Well, it may save the rest of your friends lives so it was worth it you decided.

You tried to calm yourselves down, you had all been shaken from what had happened. You hoped they couldn’t print anything about you. Newspapers couldn’t publish anything without actual facts, right?

The three of you held hands, closing your eyes and focusing on calling the spirits of the people you loved back to you. The Ouija board was in the middle of the circle, but it was more of an object to focus your minds rather than to speak to your dead friends. You were hoping to manifest them here. To talk to them.

And you did.

But not in the way you had hoped. Xander, Giles and Cordelia appeared. As if out of thin air. You smiled at them, so pleased to see them. Relived to see their faces. Until you looked properly. It was like seeing them in fog. Their faces slightly distorted. The scars from their deaths sewed up but prominent.

“You did this! You did this! YOU DID THIS!” they started to chant simultaneously, getting louder and louder. The grudge they held was strong. You felt it deep within. They hated you. They wanted you in their place.

You kept trying to talk to them, apologise and even plead with them to talk to you. But they wouldn’t. They started to charge towards you, violence in their eyes as you broke the circle in shock. As soon as you let go of your friends hands, they disappeared.

You were all exhausted. It had taken a lot of energy and you were no closer to finding out who the masked killer was. You had little hope for living into tomorrow and your friends all blamed you for their deaths. You had used up all of your options. You had no more plans.

You, Buffy and Willow were still recovering from contacting the spirits when Faith entered, a lot later than you had told her to come. She had needed to meet with someone. Someone she had never told any of you about.

“Where did you get your fancy lawyer from, huh? You live in a fucking motel!” You got up immediately, not bothering with the niceties. You had a bad feeling. Like she was somehow going to spin this back onto you. Something about how she had been acting recently didn’t sit right with you.

“Yeah, thanks for offering me a bed” Faith quipped, but you weren’t getting distracted easily.

“Lawyer?” Willow asked, frowning at Faith.

“Why do you have a lawyer?” Buffy asked, her hand on her hip as she scrutinised Faith.

“I was just told I needed one” she shrugged.

“By who?” You demanded. You knew it. You knew there was something going on.

“By no one!” Faith rolled her eyes, “Stop ridin’ my dick, y/n”

“Don’t do that! You’ve fucking told someone!” You persisted. You could feel it, “You never liked Cordelia and you’ve never mentioned needing a lawyer before - why do you have one now? Feeling guilty over something?”

You tried to swing at Faith but she grabbed your wrist and twisted your arm around your back painfully. Buffy had to run in and broke you up. You apologised to Buffy, but avoided looking at Faith as you tried to calm down. She looked around at the rest of you, sighing. She knew you were all suspicious of her now so she left, slamming the door behind her.

Teen suicide: Trendy or tragic?

The Sunnydale Express, October 1999. Official death toll: 6.

It has come to our attention that, amongst the increased missing cases, apparent self-inflicted deaths have been on the increase in Sunnydale especially in young people. Here at the Express, we like to get the facts so we interviewed some students from Sunnydale high school and paraphrased their response.

‘Life totally sucks’ – anonymous student.

‘We just, like, don’t care’ – another anonymous student.

There you have it, real words from real students. It makes us wonder at The Sunnydale Express, whether suicide really is serious or just ‘the next big thing’?

Willow and Oz were sat on the sofa in Oz’s home. They had the house to themselves and they were making the most of it by watching rentals and cuddling. Oz had an arm over Willow’s shoulder. Luckily, he hadn’t heard about the reporters yet and so his girlfriend was satisfied he had no suspicions. Willow wasn’t really in the room however, she was just staring into space.

“I’m startin’ to worry. You’re not yourself” he said softly, kissing her cheek.

“I’m not?”

“Ever since last Halloween… I know what it is. What you did” Oz stated. Calm as ever.

Horror swept across her face, quickly rounding the corner into panic. She was stunned. Unable to move. Speak. So Oz continued, “You and Xander… it was when you and he started... Right?” his voice was level and his expression was stoic, but there was something there. He was still hurt by what had happened, but he understood that this would hurt more. Now he had died. Now so many of the people she was close to had died. And now she had seemed to stop talking to everyone except Buffy. Everything happening this time of year was bound to take her usual Willow shine.

Willow visibly relaxed at his suggestion, but this didn’t last. Estimations suggest it was around half a second, before a voice boomed into the living room, answering Oz’s question. “Wrong” the gravelly texture to his voice making Willow wince.

Oz got up from the sofa, immediately standing in front of Willow. The figure moved his head from side to side, the signature mask not allowing them to see an expression. But the hairs on the back of their neck was standing on end.

Tell. Tell. Tell. Tell.

As if there were still some spirits left over from earlier in the day, Willow felt it within. He wanted her to tell Oz.

“I- I can’t tell him”

“Tell me what? Will?” Oz asked levelly, his hand comfortingly rubbing her upper arm.

“Tell him… or he dies”

“W-we killed that man. Well, we hid his body a-and then we started getting these notes a-and-” Willow collapsed into sobs as she tried to recall everything that happened, “G-Giles- too and we cleaned it up and made it look like an a-accident”

Oz’s face twisted into shock. He had never been this visibly shocked. Then his face changed. In their horrifying exchange, they had almost forgotten they had a visitor and Oz had moved to face away from him. Oz looked down, his eyes wide in horror.

It made Willow look down too. It was as if a demon was breaking out of his chest. His t-shirt stained with blood as the blade was removed and then repeatedly stabbed into him. Each time the blade sliced through him Willow winced and stared in horror. She was rooted to the spot. That was, until Oz fell forwards into her arms.

“Did I say or? I meant ‘and’” the voice said, Willow was able to hear that he was smiling through his mask. He cleaned off the scythe with his finger and watched. She sobbed, lowering herself to the ground and Oz became dead weight. She held him to her, his horrified look still in his eye as his breathing began to slow. A pool of blood started to surround them as the killer watched, as if in fascination from above.

He let Willow bawl for a while, her salty tears mixing in with Oz’s blood. Then he got bored. “Sign” he stated, brandishing a typed up note under her nose. He started to grow impatient as she didn’t reply and demanded again, “Sign it”

“W-why? What is it?” Willow said between sobs. She was still on the floor, clinging to Oz.

“A confession” He stated, tilting his head to the side before looking down at his other hand that had appeared from behind his back, now there was a noose in one hand and the already typed note in another.

“No!” Willow screamed and started to run but she was still weak from shock. She knew what was coming. She got up, desperately trying to run but it had been too much. It had been exhausting. Hiding. Living in fear. Witnessing everything she had seen and it never got easier. Especially not now. “Oz”, she whimpered.

The figure chased her through the house, she ran up the stairs towards the bedroom. She slammed the door and jammed it closed with a set of drawers she managed to push with some effort.

He had been right behind her and had started to stab through the door with his scythe when he realised it was locked. The door splintered and eventually gave through. He stuck his arm through the gap, swinging the weapon wildly as if he could catch Willow even slightly but she was huddled in the corner.

“Willow dear, light of nobody’s life?” he asked frantically realising this was futile, “Let me in… Let me in!” he started to get angrier, his composure slipping only briefly before he moved away leaving a gap in the door. She heard footsteps descending down the stairs and slowly moved from the corner she had been hiding in. Willow was breathing heavily, tiptoeing to the door to see where he had gone. She paused before hauling the cupboard back. She started to open the door slowly and stepped tentatively onto the landing. As soon as she started to walk slowly he ran at her full pelt. She stumbled over her feet, running down the stairs and past the front door, through the kitchen, checking behind her to see that he was right behind her.

She turned into the living room, shrieking in horror, she had been chased in a circle back to where she had started. He had been toying with her. Humouring her.

She was covered in Oz’s blood and skidded to the floor, hitting her head on the coffee table. She clutched at her head, Oz’s blood mixing with hers as her vision started to go fuzzy until it finally went black…

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randomlynormalgirl · 5 years

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Joker Movie Thoughts

this is a bunch of jumbled, unstructured thoughts about the joker movie because I can’t stop thinking about it and I needed to write at least some of my thoughts down. might add to it every now and then. hope you enjoy it anyway if you end up reading it :)

MASSIVE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!!!!

watching the ‘joker’ movie felt like a very visceral experience for me. the movie manages to hold and intertwine many complicated themes alongside the plot so eloquently that I am not surprised it received an 8 minute standing ovation. I will be personally outraged if Joaquin phoenix does not receive an Oscar for his portrayal of the joker character because he manages to perfectly display the descent into madness as well as the tragedy of the movie. This movie manages to make you want to sympathise with Joker because the course of events leading up to him becoming the joker is very tragic and given the right circumstances would turn any sane man mad, yet you know you shouldn’t empathise with him because you understand he is mentally ill and that he sees violence as the only way to exact his revenge. Every scene in the movie is a trailer moment yet I didn’t feel like the movie was spoiled for me in any way.

Another aspect of the movie I liked is that Joaquin Phoenix manages to use his acting skill so well that he can subtly show how the joker’s descent into madness builds to a crescendo so spectacularly. How the first dance he does after his first kills is slow and controlled compared to that when he is fully embracing his madness and dancing on the steps so freely, because in his madness he is set free. It reminds me of Midsommar in that way slightly. Also, Joaquin’s body during the movie was also a strange sight and the dedication he put into the role to make himself look that skinny and ill simply astounded me. also, knowing that Joaquin improvised the dancing in the bathroom after Arthur's first three murders makes the scene all the more eerie to me. i hope he looked after himself after he finished filming for the movie because i dread another heath ledger situation, i don't think my heart could take it

I also appreciated that despite the amount of violence in the movie, a lot of the deaths are actually not shown. I think it’s a sign of good acting and good directing when the audience can guess what’s happened behind the scenes just from a few context clues (such as the end of the movie when he leaves the therapists office trailing bloody footprints)

I saw someone on twitter say that the joker movie is just Marxism in practise and honestly I can't fault their logic. The working class leading a violent revolution against the top 1% because they want better than the shitty lower hand they have been dealt, the fact that the newspapers in the film literally call it the 'kill the rich' revolution, the fact that Thomas Wayne literally calls them all clowns and it only ends up spurring on the revolt further. i mean, i can definitely see it.

The story is heartbreaking because it is believable. Watching as a mentally ill man is pushed to the extreme due to funding cuts for his therapy which ultimately stopped him getting the medication he needed to stay sane, poverty, an abusive childhood, a mentally ill mother whilst also living in a classist society where the working class are oppressed by people like Thomas Wayne. A good example of this to me is his first trio of murders; he only killed them because the three Wall Street type guys were going to beat him to death had he not pulled out the gun to kill them, yet it is certain that if Arthur had been killed by those men no one would care because he was not someone worth reporting on in the eyes on the media. In short, anyone below middle class in Gotham were considered nobody and they had enough. Arthur merely sparked the rebellion.

I enjoyed how the joker didn’t plan to become a political figure in the movie. He unintentionally becomes a martyr to the people of Gotham and how that tied in with the origins of batman was a very cool moment for me as part of the audience.

To add to this, the ending of the movie being dubious was an interested touch. Throughout the movie we learn that we cannot always trust Arthur’s perspective. From his fantasy of being on his idol’s TV show, down to his delusion of the romance between him and Sophie. So, the idea that the end of the movie suggesting it was all in his imagination was interesting to me. I, however, don’t subscribe to such a theory because I think the final flash of Bruce with his dead parents was the director giving us that subtle hint that this time the joker wasn’t just dreaming of being successful and loved by many, it was real this time. A slightly less important note but the aesthetic of the whole movie was just very grainy and gritty and fit the film? like the old school format, the cinematography and the fucking SOUNDTRACK. 'that's life' by Frank Sinatra is one if my favourite songs and the fact is features so heavily in this movie was a really cool moment for me? i also really liked the whole riot scene; it just felt really raw and gritty and like a true climax to the joker's story as he finally becomes the persona fully and finds his new identity as the figurehead for this revolution in Gotham

Of course, I cannot talk about this film without mentioning my beloved heath ledger and his depiction of the joker, and the references and similarities between the two. Let me make one thing clear; phoenix’s and ledger’s joker are nowhere near the same. I remember reading that Joaquin and heath were very good friends, and that Joaquin did not in anyway want to impose on heath’s legacy. He understands how legendary that role was and said while he loves that portrayal he didn’t want to be a cheap imitation. I believe he has fully achieved such a feat but I cannot help but compare. Some ‘Easter eggs’ or possible homages to heath that I recognised were:

-the scene where Arthur is in the back of the police car reminded me very much of that scene in the dark knight where joker steals the cop car (ledger / phoenix). I realise that is is also supposed to parallel the scene earlier where he is sat all sad on the bus compared to how happy he looks in the police car but i didn't quite get it straight away.

-Arthur using his own blood to paint the smile on his face (x) after the car crash reminded me of the ledger makeup look

-Arthur saying to Sophie that he ‘had a bad day’ reminded me instantly of when heath ledger’s joker said something along the lines of ‘everyone is just one bad day away from being like me’

none-Ledger related Easter eggs I noticed too were:

-the protesters laying Arthur across the hood of the crashed cop car Jesus-style to signify that he's saintly to them was a nice touch -Bruce coming down the fireman’s pole was reminiscent of the Adam west batman series where they had to come down the fireman’s pole

-the joker being attached to the death of Bruce Wayne’s parents (although less directly in this depiction)

-the font of the late night talk show is the same as batman the animated series

-I’ve seen some people say that the backdrop of the talk show is the same during the titles of the animated series too

-joker killing the host was reminiscent of the dark knight returns where joker kills the audience of a TV talk show

-apparently the look of this joker is similar to that of one of his video game iterations but I can’t find that -the sort of reference to the inspiration behind the entire joker character by having Arthur have a condition where he can't help but laugh in certain situations, when the joker was based on the film 'the man who laughs' where a man is cursed to never stop smiling no matter how much he tries -major inspiration from taxi driver, which also features Robert De Niro so its a cool touch -some kind of reference to the movie 'the king of comedy', a movie centring around a person obsessed with a tv show host which has similar plot points and also features robert de niro again which is pretty cool

#joker #joker movie #joaquin phoenix #dc #dc comics #batman #joker spoilers #joker review

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rwbyremnants · 6 years

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WARNING: Angst, Drug use. Non-Freezerburn chapter.

Note: From here on in, there won't be any Freezerburn for quite a few chapters. Don‘t worry, it won‘t be forever, but there will be a lot less of them interacting directly for a while – and there will be other ships instead (we'll try to mention it in the pre-chapter notes though). You have been warned.

=Chapter 22

Ruby Rose was beginning to feel extremely anxious about her sister. It had been almost three full days since the last time they Skyped, and that had mostly been a lot of sobbing and Yang telling her that she couldn't talk, that she had "things to do". There was a lot of apologizing, and self-hatred, but none of it made sense; just a load of gibberish. Since then, she'd only received one text message the day before: 'I'm okay. Sorry to worry everyone.' Short but to the point.

She had just returned from the library with an armload of books, and Penny was out getting some food from the dining hall for both of them. This seemed like as good a time as any to try calling Yang for the hundredth time.

Except this time was not like the last ninety-nine. Because Yang answered. There was a lot of background noise, people chattering and laughing, faint radio music, but it was definitely her sister's voice on the other line. "Hey, Ruby."

"SIS!" Ruby burst out, gripping the edge of her desk and leaning in - as if it would make any difference. "Where have you been - what happened to you?! Weiss has called me a bunch of times, freaking out! I mean, it's cool that's she's calling me, and I still can't get used to that - BUT WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

"Currently? I'm about half an hour from Blake's place." Surrounding Yang was the interior of a rather old diner, filled with quite a few people all being loud and mouthy. She'd been known before to go out for a drive on her bike when she was annoyed or upset, but not this distance. Still, she leant in to the phone herself. "I needed to get away."

"But… why? What's wrong? Weiss said you just picked up and left, and she was really mad one time and really sad the other time, and…" Ruby squirmed. She felt bad, like she was making her sister feel guilty, but she hated being caught between two friends like this, regardless of whether or not one was related to her.

Straight away Yang's hand went into her hair, grasping a good handful and pulling hard as she tried to get her thoughts together. She knew she'd have to hear about Weiss's reaction eventually, but it wasn't any less painful to hear. She could already feel her own tears beginning to well up.

"I know, I know… I bet she hates me, and I'll deserve it. I deserve all you guys ’ hate. But it's way more complicated than that. I had no choice."

"Come on, you know what Dad would say: 'You always have a choice.'”

“Like I could talk to Dad about this,” she sighed wearily. “He did push me to open up, but I don’t… I didn’t know what to say.”

“Sis…" She got up from the desk and carried her phone back over to her bed, laying on her back. She had to adjust her glasses when they tried to slide up onto her forehead. "Just tell me what happened."

Yang's breath had already started to get shaky. She managed to notice a few of the other people in the diner were looking around occasionally, some even pointing and questioning their friends. For someone usually so confident, all Yang wanted to do right now was turn invisible, disappear entirely.

"Winter." She got straight to the point, managing to hide herself in her coat. "Winter happened."

"But… it's still Spring. What are you talking about?"

There wasn't even a faint chuckle. That was how much this had affected her. Everything that made Yang, Yang had seemed to have disappeared, her sense of humor for things being the main one. Instead she just explained further, "Her sister, Winter. Not the season. She found pictures of me from my old Ying Facebook, threatened to out me to the press. I don't care if my reputation gets pulled through the dirt, but it won't be mine on the line if it gets out. It'll be hers."

To Yang's surprise, however, Ruby snorted with laughter. "Oh come on, you're gonna have to do better than that. She can't have a sister named 'Winter', that's dumb."

Sobbing quite clearly down the phone, she stared downward toward the table a moment, trying to keep the tears in. She couldn't cry here I public, not when right now she was still on the news occasionally. Weiss would see it, or worse, Winter would. "God, how I wish it was all a lie and I was making it up, but it's true. She didn't even let me say goodbye, or leave a note. She told me to just take off…"

"You're… you're serious. But Weiss wouldn't do that! She'd never put her reputation above you, not in a million years - that's not the kind of person she is! You know that, don't you?!"

"I know. But Winter is," she emphasized, now simply staring at the mug of coffee that remained on her table, nearly untouched. She hadn't been eating or drinking properly the past few days, unless forced. And this was no different. "I don't care what they think about me, they can call me the T-bomb, a cross dresser, anything under the sun, I don't care. But in the end, it's not gonna be me in the spotlight, it'll be her. The media won't leave her alone if this gets out. And I've done more than enough studying on the subject to find out what happens to celebrities her age that get a story like this all over the media. And it's not pretty."

“Yang...”

She sniffed once more, grasping her hair tightly. "I can't let her risk her entire career for me, her future, a-and maybe even her mental health, just for me. I can't let her do that."

"And you didn't… you don't think Weiss deserves to talk to you about this? I mean…" Ruby wasn't sure what else to say. This was so unlike her sister, to walk away from a situation instead of confronting it head-on. Of course she had Weiss's best interests at heart, but would this really be in her best interests?

"If I have any further contact with her, Winter will release the picture. I can't talk to her about. No matter how much I want to." Pulling at her hair even more, she was beyond caring how much it was starting to hurt. If anything the pain was just a distraction. "Don't you get it? My choice is either risk ruining her life, or look like a piece of shit. I can't win!"

"But you…" She knew she was grasping at straws now, but she couldn't just let her sister believe that the situation was completely hopeless. She couldn't believe it herself; that wasn't allowed. Nobody could put her sister in a situation where she had no choice but to hate herself this way. "There has to be something we can do!"

"I am doing something." Yang finally loosened her grip on her hair, giving herself that relief as she tried to calm her breathing. She'd had plenty of time to think of a plan while she was packing the essentials for Blake's, while she had to keep ignoring the nonstop calls and messages from Weiss that came the first two days. Now, there was just the odd one or two per day, starting to sound more and more defeated with each one. That had spurred on her plan.

"I'm staying away, so she can find someone she deserves. Who she can be happy with. Someone who's not a circus freak."

Ruby sat bolt upright. "Stop it! I c-can't- you know I can't stand it when you say stuff like this, even if it's about yourself, I- you're not a freak! You're my beautiful, strong, awesome sister, anybody would be lucky to have you, even someone as incredible as Weiss, and I… and I'm so mad right now!"

But the blonde just continued to stare outward into nothing. Occasionally she'd catch a stranger's glance again, and end up looking away and hiding herself. Her sister's words meant well, but when she was constantly being watched and pointed out, it didn't help at all. She felt like they were judging her, laughing at her. Like they had the exact same thoughts Winter did. The longer this was going on, the more of her confidence she was losing. The more she was starting to feel like Winter was right – that she was a freak, a sham of a woman. A fake.

And sure enough, she was beginning to sob again, voice high pitched and cracked thanks to the lump in her throat. "J-just… T-tell her I'm safe, I-if she's worried. You can't t-tell her what I told you about Winter though… Please."

The younger girl's voice was hushed when she said, "Don't do that. Don't… make me promise that, Yang - she's really upset. Not just a little, but a lot. Don't make me swear that I can't tell her…" But her voice already sounded dejected. She knew she would make the promise to her sister, and that she would keep it.

"I'm sorry…" Her own voice was just as quiet, just as defeated. "I'm sorry to put this on you, seriously, I am… but I have to protect her. I need to know you'll do that for me."

"Well… I'm not sure this is really protecting her. But I guess I can keep my lips zipped for a little while. As long as I think it’s not gonna hurt more than it helps. Wow, I'm so sorry this is happening, Sis - I thought everything was going so great…"

If anything, that made her sob yet again, finally wiping away the tears from one of her eyes. "It was. God it was, Ruby… That's why it hurts so much to know she's gonna have to hate me. Just don’t have any choice."

At this point Penny had finally made it back to the room, holding two bags full of food for them both from the cafeteria. But upon noticing Ruby was on the phone, she tried to keep herself quiet, only walking over to the desk to prepare each dinner quietly.

"Okay, um…" Ruby's silver eyes darted between her roommate and her phone, and she whispered. "I should go for now, but… listen. You are not a freak, you're not a bad person. And as soon as the semester is over, me and Penny are gonna take you out to Disney, or Knott's Berry Farm or something, okay? Just…" Her breath caught. "I know this'll be hard for a while, but you can get through it - and I can help, if you let me."

Finally, there was a shaky sigh from the other side the line. "I'll give you another call in a few days. Hopefully when I'm less… unstable. But if she asks… I'm safe. That's all she can know."

Penny looked toward her and mouthed "Yang?" , having finished plating up Ruby's pre-prepared meal, handing it over to her. But Ruby didn't take it quite yet. Nodding at her very briefly, she turned back to the screen and said, "I love you, Big Sister. Keep yourself safe or I'll kick your butt."

Then she gave an awkward little wave and disconnected the call. All Yang had managed to do was force a quick smile that didn’t even convince herself before it cut off. After which Penny passed over the plate of food again. Carbonara wasn't exactly doing to be a pick-me-up for something this drastic, but it was a start at least.

"Is she alright?"

"Not even a little." But there was no use in moping; not when she was literally powerless in the situation. Didn't do much to improve her mood as she dug into the food, of course, but it at least kept her from getting any sadder.

The last part of Yang ’ s journey was seen through teary eyes. The phone call was necessary, the final thing she needed to do before she could get on with her so-called plan, but it didn't mean it hurt any less. Now was when reality was beginning to kick her in the gut. The reality that now everything she had was twelve hours and several hundred miles away. Her family, her sister, her lover.

Or now, ex-lover. Yang couldn't see a way out of this anymore. Not when anything she could do would result in her picture being made public. Her career would be destroyed, no doubt her father would have a few things to say, and it would ruin her. Until a time when the world was yet more accepting of people like Yang, or even the possibility their favorite popstar might be gay when she hadn’t already paraded out in a rainbow suit, all she could do was step back, and allow Weiss to live the life she deserved. Without her complications.

The call to Blake wasn't any more fruitful than Ruby's attempts to get in contact. It had been just a quiet voice, asking “ Can I stop over for a few weeks? ” with no further comments as to why. Nor any jokes or witty humor that Blake had gotten used to now that her and her best friend were back in contact. She obliged, but had no clue what to expect when she would finally get there. But thankfully she wouldn't have to wait any longer.

The dark-haired girl smiled at her blonde friend as she made her way toward the townhouse, having parked the bike in a safe enough place. All she had on her was her guitar on her back, and the small trunk-attachment to her bike containing her clothes. She didn't exactly look too happy either, which made Blake step up to be the first to speak. "So… How was the open road? Feel free enough for you?"

But while Yang managed to force herself to chuckle at the comment, it began to descend rather quickly into a disheartened gaze into nothing. And then to teary eyes, then to full on sobbing right on Blake's doorstep.

Instantly, Blake was bending down to wrap her arms around Yang's shoulders. "Hey… hey, girl, don't cry. What's wrong?"

If she wasn't holding the case, she would have hugged straight back. Instead, all she did was nestle her head into Blake's neck, quite literally crying onto her shoulder. And she did so for a good few minutes before she could finally bring herself to speak again. But even that was very few words.

"I-I lost h-her… I-I can't… everything’s- W-We can't…"

"Lost who? Weiss?" Gulping, she looked around the neighborhood nervously and then gripped her old friend's bicep hard as she tried to help pick her up. "Come on, you can tell me about it inside - I'll get you some water."

They managed it eventually. "Here," Blake breathed as she pushed the plastic tumbler full of ice water into her hands. The ice cubes were shaped like stars; apparently, she had a special ice tray and had decided she needed them. "Now… I mean, you're totally welcome to crash in my spare room, but there's no bed in there. Just an old futon."

"That's f-fine…" She wiped away some of the tears with her spare hand, before taking a large gulp of water. The ice cold was a definite comfort to the lump in her throat, and was more than enough to calm her down as well. Downing already half of the cup, she finally placed it down on the coffee table, returning her hands to her knees as she kept staring into nothing.

"I left Weiss… I had to, to protect her. God it's all such a mess…"

Nodding as she sank down into the couch next to her friend, Blake said in a soft, soothing voice, "Yeah, I kinda guessed that. Start at the beginning…"

So Yang did. Blake listened patiently while the whole story about Winter came out, the old pictures and the threats-that-weren't-threats, her sudden flight from the skyscraper where the diva made her home. As they went on, Blake mostly just nodded, though her amber eyes were downcast and sad.

"Wow," she sighed at last, running a hand through her black bangs. "That was a really dick move of her, blackmailing somebody just because she doesn't like that you're dating her sister. What a piece of shit."

"A dick with a point, though…" Yang was still no better off. The tears had stopped at least, but she was still blankly staring outward, unable to give eye contact to even her friend anymore. Deeply sighing, she shrugged her shoulders. "If she can find those pictures so easy, someone who's a professional could, too. It's her or someone else…"

"Um… I hate to play a devil's advocate, but what's to stop them from doing that anyway?" Shrugging, she got up and grabbed a box from the coffee table, pulling it into her lap. It was patterned to look like a stack of old books, but was actually wooden. "You're all over the news still, you and that killer song you two made together. So like… you really think the interest is going to vanish just because you left?"

"Well duh. Of course they could. But if her and I aren't together, them finding out about me isn't going to damage Weiss's reputation, is it? If they did and it's me in the dirt, I don't care. But I can't let Weiss get smeared because of me… I just can't."

The other girl nodded as she opened the box up and began sifting through its contents. Some bits and bobs, a plastic bag. "You're doing better than I would. I'd probably have thrown that Winter jerk out on her ass and let the chips fall where they may, but that's just me."

"As soon as she called me 'sir' I wanted to punch her in the face…" At the thought, Yang's spare hand was clenching into a fist. But when she put the cup back down on the table, it was only then she noticed Blake's box. "What's that?"

"Something important," Blake told her as she opened the bag - and a sharp, earthy aroma filled the room. Taking a pinch of small green flakes from inside, she began stuffing them into the bowl of the pipe in her other hand. "Why didn't you punch her in the face? That sounds a lot more like you than running away, even if you were worried about your girlfriend."

Slapping a hand to her face, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought about that, and eventually groaned rather loudly. "I know, I know. But she’s my girlfriend's sister. And my boss's daughter. I'm pretty sure if I'd have been fired if I did punch her."

But within a few seconds, she sniffed the air. What was that? Yang recognized it, and yet she couldn't put her finger on just what…

"That's fair, I guess… well, not fair but it makes sense. About the least 'fair' thing I've heard of in a thousand years." Then she passed the pipe over to Yang, holding aloft a silvery Zippo lighter. No explanation was given, no hesitation; she just expected her to already know.

And then it finally clicked what that scent was. And what Blake was holding towards her face. "Hoooold the fuck up." She pushed the pipe slightly away. "Is this a hash pipe?"

"No, it's a half-pipe," Blake snorted sarcastically. "And I want you to grind it with your skateboard, bro." When Yang still looked between her and the pipe as if they were both independently crazy, Blake rolled her eyes. "Look. You just broke up with Weiss, and you couldn't control that. Wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything wrong - and you still ended up in this huge mess, being the scapegoat for her sister's bigotry. Now, I have some ice cream in the freezer, but all the ice cream in the world won't do you as much good as a few solid puffs of Mary Jane."

Yang continued to look between the pipe and Blake again. She was completely serious about this. She herself had never touched the stuff, only heard of it in passing and knew a couple of colleagues at Junior's used to smoke up. She was pretty sure Junior himself was on something stronger.

Holding the pipe, she chuckled to herself. "Y'know, never in a million years could I have guessed that my ex, who was such a goody two-shoes she'd never even kissed anybody before me, was gonna be teaching me how to get high."

"Oh," Blake said, trying her hardest not to laugh, "You're holding it backward. Here…" Turning the pipe around, she placed it back in her hand and then held up the lighter. "I'll do this part. You put your finger on that hole in the back; that's the carb. You hold that while you pull the first time, to help get the herb lit. Then you take your finger off and inhale more."

"…In English?" she teased. But holding it just as Blake asked, she knew she had the right idea. Once the herb was lit and the smoke was on it's way, Yang looked down toward it, taking a deep breath in…

Which was a huge mistake of course. Straight away, Yang ended up coughing and spluttering terribly, feeling her throat starting to close back up again. In a strained voice she managed to ask; "What the fuck was that?! Jesus Christ!"

This time, Blake couldn't suppress her laughter, and she pounded Yang on the back while her hand held the pipe still so none of the smoldering embers would spill. "That was your first hit! Huzzah!"

“You fu-” She had to break off to do more coughing. “OW! Ugh, couldn’t you have shown me-” More coughing “-how to do it first?”

"Yeah, that's fair, that's fair. Just wanted you to get first crack at it since… I mean, your need is greater than mine right now."

Taking the pipe from Yang, Blake raised it to her lips and pressed her finger against the carb, flicked the lighter again. Yellow flame sparked into life, then was drawn down into the bowl of singed green as Blake pulled in for a moment. Once her index finger slid off the end, the already-red weed glowed yet brighter. Then she lowered the pipe, looked casually over at Yang…

And nothing. Not for several seconds; no smoke came out. Just when Yang opened her mouth to ask what was going on, Blake finally blew out a heavy cloud directly at her. She coughed yet again, right away wafting her hand in front of her face to rid the smoke. But all she got in return was a smug grin from the woman in question. This still completely warped Yang's mind… That she had talked to Blake after all those years, and now she was getting high with her in her apartment. And they were having fun with it!

"Eww!" she laughed, taking the pipe back from her. "Keep your smoke to yourself, you damn filthy stoner."

"No," Blake told her defiantly. Then she bumped their shoulders together with a small smile. "I promise this is going to help you a ton. I mean, you don't have to - I'm not gonna kick you out if you wanna stop here, obviously. Just, I strongly recommend you try one more time first. See if you can get the hang of it - but try to kind of… 'eat' the smoke, almost."

"Eat the smoke… That sounds so weird, but I'll give it a shot."

Bringing it to her lips, she copied exactly as Blake did, letting the small amount of weed begin to burn as she pulled. Then she removed her finger, watching as it burned brightly. She could feel the smoke, only this time, she attempted to do as was recommended, taking in a small amount that bit at a time rather than just straight up inhaling it.

Satisfied, she lowered the pipe from her face and looked upward, blowing her own cloud upward and into the air. It was the strangest thing she had witnessed for a good while…

"Wow, that was a lot better," Blake said, actually impressed. "Then again, you've smoked enough cock by now…" Snorting, she slapped a hand over her face. "Damn, this stuff acts fast - I normally don't start spewing out stuff I really shouldn't for another ten or twenty minutes!"

"I still can't believe that you of all people smoke this stuff. You never even touched a cock before me," she teased right back. But Yang wasn't feeling any different just yet; if anything, just a little depressed. Had she taken enough? Maybe not. Looking back at the pipe again, she asked, "Can I go again? Or is this a one-shot thing?"

"Hey, go for it," Blake said with a shrug, laying the box of paraphernalia aside for the moment. "Any other day, I'd give you hell for bogarting the pipe, but like I said, this is all you this time. You need this."

"This is just all so new, it's still screwing with my head…" She kept talking about the pipe rather than anything else. Thinking about things may just make them worse if she kept going, and this was Blake's offer to try and help her get better. Taking another hit of the weed, she breathed out the smoke into the air again.

It was only now she was starting to feel the contented buzzing… and a slight numbness in her head. Like something had been opened up. It was a weird way to describe it, but it fit perfectly. Blake wasn't wrong.

Taking the pipe from Yang, Blake hesitated with her both of their hands still on it, eyes narrowed at her old friend. "Ohhhh yeah. You're feelin' it now, I can see it." Grinning mischievously, she raised it to take her own hit, then hesitated to say, "And I mean, I'm sorry if I seemed pushy about it before, but maybe now you're starting to get why."

Sitting right back on the sofa, she stared outward for no reason. She nodded to show she had paid attention to her, but was somewhat out of the conversation entirely. That was until she asked, "So was this your version of Break-up Ice Cream back in the day?"

"Huh?" Blake breathed out along with another plume of herb, lips pursing very slightly toward the end. Then she turned and asked again. "Back in what day?"

"Back when I… Ah crap." She cringed, closing her eyes tightly as she looked to one side. Was this how she was going to get over things? By going over and asking awkward questions about her other relationship. But when she seemed not to mind, she asked, "When it was me?"

That made Blake nod. She looked very slightly less comfortable with the conversation, but perhaps because of the chemicals now in her system, setting off reactions in her brain, it was a barely-perceptible difference.

"Nah. Back then it really was ice cream, and maybe a few appletinis at Junior's. I didn't pick up this habit until a year or so later. Some girl named Coco I worked with was always trying to get me to party with her, and I put her off, and put her off, and put her off…" Realizing she was starting to ramble, she giggled. "Buuuut not forever. Eventually I tried it, and it was just… freeing. Easy, and nice. Helped the troubles melt away, helped me relax."

"I can see the appeal. I mean, I just went for a shit tonne of booze but now that I think about it, that's really expensive…" She was beginning to ramble herself. Two hits were enough of the weed for the time being. It was enough to make her feel numb, but open her mind when thinking of what to say. And one thought…

"Wait, Coco… Tall girl? Never takes off her sunglasses or beret?"

"Yeah, that's her," Blake answered offhandedly, breathing out another hit of smoke; this time, she managed to make a tiny ring that slowly made its way up toward the ceiling. "And this shit can be expensive, too, but my guy has pretty fair prices. Nothing like what you'd see out in Colorado, though…"

"Maybe we should road trip there…" Although she was impressed by the ring that faded on the ceiling itself, she was clearly thinking herself, until she raised her hand up to snap her fingers. "Okay, I just remembered! That Coco girl was that girl I fucked… Like way back in school at a party I wasn't supposed to be at. Small world."

Blake was staring over at her with wide eyes, hand raised to pass the pipe back to her again. "You are shitting me. Yang, you are totally shitting me right now - you banged Coco?! That sassy asshole?!"

She stared at it a moment, debating whether or not to take another hit. But in the end she did, accepting it from her hands for a moment and getting it ready. But she continued first, "Dude I was, like, fifteen? She was a little older. I was a hormone-driven little virgin and we were both drunk as fuck. Put us in a room together and of course we'll end up banging each other's brains out."

"Well, I can tell you from experience that she was the lucky one in that equation," Blake laughed as she watched Yang took another long pull from the pipe, still full of disbelief. "You're a much better kisser - and I mean, we remember how the rest of it went."

Blowing it the smoke again, and attempting to make a ring just like Blake did, yet failing miserably, she looked back over, still holding the pipe to herself for a small while longer. She certainly did know the rest. With her mind buzzing as much as it was, she found herself grinning as she remembered the moments together. Even the sappy stuff. "I liked how you'd kiss me on the neck to try and get me in the mood, but then act completely innocent about it… Please tell me you do that to Sun, because he'll love it."

"Oh, God!" she laughed, mortified and covering her face with both hands. "Stooop! I was such a little dumbass…" Then she lowered them and pointed at Yang as she said, "What about you, with your smooth 'I'll act like I'm stretching so I can put my arm around you in the movie theater' routine?!"

But Yang only continued to smirk, and eventually gazed right back at Blake, raising her eyebrow. "What about that time in the movie theatre?"

Now Blake was squirming a lot more, cheeks reddening both from laughter and from that memory. "See? Even back when we were dating, you had way better moves than Coco - even if they were a little… primitive. And she kisses like she's a dog trying to lick a fire hydrant."

"Dude, dude dude dude; you banged Coco, too?!" Yang assumed, finally passing the pipe back over to her again. "I mean I get she gave you this stuff but wow."

"Wh-WHAT?! Oh shit, I said that, didn't I? Or not said it, but…" Thoroughly embarrassed, Blake had to sit still with the pipe for several minutes before she was able to continue.

"Yeah… I made out with her a few times, some heavy petting. We didn't really… um…" Her hand gestured a little too widely to be normal. "We weren't like you and me were, it was just when we were really stoned and feelin' it, but yeah. Kinda." Then she leaned very, very close and whispered, "I didn't lose my virginity to her like you did, though! Man… I mean, was she good? At that, not kissing; we know she's not great at kissing. She got better toward the end though."

"Nah you only lost your virginity to me." Ending up leaning right back into the sofa, and slightly into Blake as well. She wasn't lying about taking a few hits to unwind completely, all she wanted to do was giggle and/or sleep. But she didn't, she answered Blake's question after a bit of thought. "It was… embarrassing? We ’ re talking eight-ish years ago, though… I couldn't make her finish, she had to do it herself while I made out with her. Or more, while I got a dementor's kiss."

"DEMENTOR'S-" Now Blake laughed so hard that a few tiny bits of weed jumped from the pipe onto the floor, despite her best efforts. "Shit! That's- ffffuuuuuckkkk!!!!"

Yang was too giddy and giggly to care, and simply leant against Blake even more. "She was okay up till then, but like, how does someone think sucking out your soul is a way to kiss? I've had better kisses when Zwei licked my face!"

"Right?!" When she looked down at the pipe, she noticed most of the herb was ash, so she managed to push herself to her feet. "Whoa…" Wobbling, she glanced over her shoulder and said, "Be right back," and headed for the bathroom, carrying the pipe with her.

While Blake had left her on her own, Yang kept sinking further and further back into the sofa, only now taking the opportunity to rest her arms across the back of it. She was tempted to do it while Blake was sat with her by habit, but stopped as soon as she mentioned it was an old tactic of hers.

Not that those thoughts of Blake were back. That ship had sailed, which was a firm belief even when she was high as a kite. But some cuddling and giggling wouldn't hurt, not after the miserable half week she had just endured.

By the time Blake got back, she was tilting her head and staring toward the ceiling, clearly deep in thought about something. "Ready for round two?" Blake was sighing as sat, reaching for the box. As she did, she caught sight of the look on Yang's face and said, "Or… are we? You okay over there?"

Still staring up at the ceiling, Yang tilted her head in Blake's general direction. At least to let her know she was talking to her. "If Plastic is made from dead dinosaurs… And dildos are made from plastic… does that mean I've been fucked by a dinosaur, or that Weiss fucked me with a dinosaur?"

Of course, Blake dropped the Zippo in surprise at the bold statement. "Whoa, whoa, WHOA, she what?!" Then she laughed slightly as she retrieved it from the floor. "Woooow, girl, you guys were deep in it if she was willing to buy dildos! I mean, especially when they have to go where yours go."

"Oh it was pretty deep alright. In both ways if you know what I mean… eh??" She was back to giggling again, face creasing up as she tried to stop herself from having another giggle fit. Although upon noticing Blake was going for more of the weed, she started to smile. "Remind me to get some of that one day, this shit's good."

"I'll hook you up before you leave, if you want." Packing the bowl a second time, Blake cleared her throat and asked, "I mean… I knew you said you took it in the ass when you were with guys. Kinda figured that. But I guess I wasn't expecting you to keep doing that if you're with… you know. A vagina-having girl." Then she flashed a sheepish grin over at her old friend. "Sorry if I said that in a dumb way."

"You're fiiiiiine." There was emphasis on that part as she finally looked back toward her again, eyes half closed in her happy daze. "I was surprised too. There I was showing her a nice hanfu I bought, then next minute there's a biiiig blue strap-on in my face."

"STRAP-ON!" Blake was literally gaping at her, jaw almost to the floor. "Wow, you guys- that pop princess actually…" Then her brow wrinkled. "What's a 'hanpoo'?"

Now Yang was in her giggling fit however, face creasing up yet again as she wore a ridiculous grin on her face. Blake now knew that a popstar who was once famous for her Christianity was apparently quite the freak in the bedroom. And that wasn't even the half of it. Though the pronunciation of the dress also didn't help her giggling. "It's 'Hanfu', it's like a nice dress. Something we wear at formal occasions."

"Something trans people wear at formal occasions? Why did I not know about this?" Finally finished packing the bowl, she raised it to her lips as she asked, "Does Laverne have one?"

Laughing yet again, she sat herself upright so she could be ready to take it after Blake. "You dumb fuck, try the other minority I am. Y'know, the Chinese side?"

Blinking, Blake sat there for a few seconds as she processed that information. "Ohhhh." Then she smiled over at Yang. "You were always kinda… resistant to your heritage. Didn't care much. That's great for you if you're embracing it more, like… yeah, man. Be all the parts of who you are, and stuff."

"Was more to shut dad up and sate Weiss's curiosity. Though it did look really nice I think…" Then gradually her smile was slipping. Still dazed, but slipping. "She's got the pictures though… I'll have to show you another time…"

Blake didn't notice at first; she was too busy hitting the pipe. Then she looked over as she blew out the smoke and saw Yang backsliding into melancholy. She looked at her for a minute, contemplating. This could get a lot worse if things kept going in that direction.

"Hey, wanna try something fun?" she said with a wicked glee.

Blinking a couple of times, she looked back around to her, tilting her head. That was a smile she recognized… But couldn't remember why. But she was too dazed to care. "Fuck it, whatever it is, go for it."

Still grinning and trying not to giggle, Blake took another huge drag on the pipe, sucking in far more smoke than was usual. Then she motioned for Yang to lean closer, turning in her direction with tiny wisps spilling from the corners of her mouth. Looking toward the smoke coming out of her mouth, she wondered just what she was up to. She had suspicions, but was too stoned to care.

Her suspicions were well-founded. The hand holding the lighter pulled down on Yang's chin just enough to open her mouth, then leaned in and pressed their lips together - but instead of kissing her, she started blowing the smoke hard and fast into Yang's mouth. And without warning, Yang was breathing it in. Thankfully she wasn't so unprepared she was coughing and spluttering like the first hit, but she never expected to be locked lips with Blake again. But again, she was too stoned to care about drawing back straight away.

Eventually she did however, and breathed the smoke out toward their side, ending up staring into the dilated pupils of her 'tutor'.

"…Well."

"Huzzah, Yang Xiao Long - you have just been shotgunned." Blake was smiling a secret smile, one Yang would remember all too well. A smile that displayed opportunities to her. But she didn't do anything else, didn't move in again; she just held up the pipe and lighter for Yang to take next.

Yang looked back down at it a moment, and then back toward her. Once again, the smile was beginning to come back. Tonight, Yang was going to forget everything for a while. Forget that she was still upset about what happened with Winter, forget the boundary she had set herself of 'never going back'. She was going to be selfish.

Taking the pipe, she copied just what Blake did, taking a deep breath in and holding it in her mouth. And then she took Blake's lips, breathing it out into her mouth just as she did for her. That was the first step, but she sensed there was more to come. This time, Blake also drew back to breathe the smoke out… but only an inch or two. They were too close, too intimate for just smoking buddies.

"This is… good stuff," she whispered, licking her lips. Yang's had been on them a second ago, warm and soft.

Even if she was still holding the pipe upright, Yang waited until both of them were finished exhaling the smoke, before she acted on her selfish instinct. In four years, she never forgot that smile, or what it meant. It was one of those things she knew by heart. Their lips met, and she was kneading against them slowly and intimately. At times she bit her lips, others she was lightly gasping for breath. Everything about it was needy, like she'd been deprived of it for years.

There was a surprised "Mmmhh!!" from the brunette when Yang changed the game, but she didn't resist, didn't pull away or stop her. After the first few seconds, her body began to respond, lips smashing back with as much passion and desire, hands coming up to wrest on Yang's sides instead of taking the pipe and lighter back. The familiar feeling of their mouths entwined gave way to tongues seeking out each other in record time, and quiet sighs of contentment came out through her nose here and there.

Memories were starting to push out the more recent ones. She remembered what Blake liked after all this time, memories brought back by her own 'style' of kissing. She brushed her tongue against the side of Blake's on occasion, still sometimes breaking to gasp and sigh in contentment. 'God I missed this,' she thought to herself, expression loosening from its melancholy to that of relaxation. A breath of cannabis was one thing to calm her down, but the breath of Blake was another altogether.

All the while, she tried to keep a hold of the lighter and the pipe, but that was getting increasingly difficult. After some time, Blake seemed to realize that the pipe was still in play. She drew back with a needy moan of regret and took them away from Yang, raising her pipe to her mouth without another word.

But her eyes… they stayed on Yang this time. It was as if she couldn't look away from her anymore. Didn't want to.

Just as Yang did with her. Maybe it wasn't in the same loving way she would have done those years ago, but it was still a need. A selfish need to try and pick herself up, and have what she wanted. Screw what anyone else thought, she was going to make out with Blake. And she was going to like it. No one could stop them, not even…

"Oh, fuck…" The dazed eyes closed shut tightly for a moment as she cringed. She never moved away, but the passing thought couldn't go unannounced. "Your boyfriend… Sun…"

"Right… RIGHT!" Blake set the pipe and lighter down on the coffee table very carefully with shaking hands, then turned to gape at Yang. "Shit, I was just chilling with you and totally forgot… that might be a thing, right? Oh man…" Running a hand through her hair, she flopped back against the couch. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done this… I mean, shotgunning you, turning it into something else. Too far, and you just got here and everything!"

Yang ran her own hands over her face and dragged them downwards, pulling her lower eyelids with them a moment. Why did that thought have to come up now? When she was so stoned off her ass she couldn't think straight! Even if she wasn't panicking, which would have been a very Yang thing to do given the situation, she groaned outward.

"No, it's my fault," she began, looking down at the pipe again. "I shoulda just asked for ice cream as soon as I got in, or shoved you away… Awh fuck, I've ruined everything again…"

"Nah, dude," Blake soothed her as she petted along her glorious blonde hair. "You're fine, it's not…" Clearing her throat, she pulled Yang in and hugged her tightly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I got you stoned, and I'm the one used to handling my high. I was trying too hard to cheer you up and not thinking about how I was doing it, so… I'm really sorry, okay?"

Looking downwards toward the floor, she said nothing. Not agreeing, not disagreeing. They were both to blame, deep down Yang knew it. But with all of the self-hatred she was still feeling from the past few days, she couldn't believe it. She could only put the blame on herself.

And the flood of memories started to come back, as did the crashing reality of what she had done. She kissed someone else. Her ex. Her ex who was in another relationship, while she still was trying to get over hers. Even if she had to leave, it still felt like cheating. Cheating on the woman she loved with her best friend. And that crashing reality had bought the tears back into her eyes, and made her fall forward against her own knees, putting her face against them as she cried loudly once again.

"Fuck," Blake breathed, clutching at Yang's back all the more tightly. "God am I an idiot… don't cry, Yang, I d-didn't mean to make it worse…" But Blake was already crying herself, from the mere fact that Yang was. "I was g-gonna get us ice cream next… I'll get you some if you stop, okay? Damn it…"

"I-I just… ruined your relationship too…" she sobbed, but instinctively leant into her warm hug. Even if it felt like the worst thing she could do, she was still so desperate for intimacy she did it anyway, nuzzling against her. "Why do I ruin everyone's lives?! What did I d-do to deserve this?!"

Blake pulled back to gaze into her face, one hand gripping her neck hard. "You're not ruining anything! This is just a… weird thing, we're old friends who are really high right now! I don't care, Sun won't care - it's not gonna be a big deal, I promise."

She didn't make eye contact, or at least she tried not to. All she did was continue to let the tears fall. Maybe the more recent events were salvageable, but she felt there was something that wasn't. "But I ruined everything with Weiss now…"

“ Shush with that, ” she told Yang, kissing her cheek gently. Like she was made of glass. “ You did the best you could with a horrible situation … I don ’ t know if I could even have done as well as you. Seriously, God, I would have clawed her eyes out if that was me! ”

Looking downward into the ground, Yang couldn't think of anything else to say about it. She did all she could, or, all she could without making things violent. Maybe that would be the better option. Or…

"Maybe she's right…" Yang said quietly. "She was young and never had even a kiss before me… Maybe I did take advantage without thinking about it…"

"Don't go down that road. I went there after we broke up and it didn't get me anywhere." Then she cringed. "Damn, shouldn't have said that; I'm not trying to make this about me. But yeah, I felt guilty about all kinds of shit, and blamed you sometimes, and I mean… what was the point? When it comes down to it, we would have torn each other apart if we stayed together back then, so it was just the best for everybody involved. Not that my brain was ready to admit that right away."

Sniffing again, Yang's sobs were starting to die down. It was only tears that continued to fall. "But this is different…" she began, hunching her shoulders. "We both had personal problems back then. I was discovering myself and you were still really anxious about people in general. Me and Weiss?" She was starting to ramble. But again, she was too stoned to care. Even if it was getting personal.

"I'm more or less done with my growing. But she… she has so much further to go. She hates her own body, hated it to the point she nearly cried when I first saw… all of her. And she's insecure of how people will judge her… How her father will judge her. A girl that's been repressed so long and I was the only one that treated her like a person… Of course she'd have felt things for me! But I should have held mine back, been a good enough person to let her grow more rather than take advantage…"

Tears were still spilling down Blake's cheeks from before, and Yang's tale didn't help anything. "You're such a good person… even though you were just trying to do what you thought was best, you still beat yourself up like this…" Her hand came up and began caressing Yang's face, thumb smoothing over her eye and nose on accident in her altered mental state. "You didn't take advantage of Weiss, okay? She's an adult, you're an adult, you were adulting together. It's just… one of those things."

Things had died down. Now she was just back to the same state she had been for the past few days. At least, now with the addition of being completely relaxed thanks to the weed. That was one plus side at least. After a moment of staying in Blake's grip, she sighed.

"Maybe I should think about this more when I'm not high as a kite."

"Maybe," Blake said with a shrug. "But I mean, sometimes being high helps me think shit through. Gives me a new perspective." She smiled cautiously as she added, "And I'm not going anywhere either way, you got that?"

Thinking on that for a moment, she backed herself up and out of Blake's grip. Only so she could lean forward and rest her head against her shoulder instead. It wasn't exactly anything like a hug or a cuddle, but it was all she had the energy to do, and the only way she could show Blake she was grateful. All that followed was a small whisper.

"Thank you."

#white noise #freezerburn fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants #drug use tw

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dnowit41 · 6 years

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GOATs on GOATs: LeBron and MJ in their own words through the years

Stop us if you've heard this before: Michael Jordan is the greatest basketball player of all time. Six championships. Count 'em. OK, stop us if you've also heard this: LeBron James is the GOAT. The King is simply bigger and stronger, and he has done it longer.

The two never faced off in an NBA game. Jordan played his last game for the Washington Wizards on April 16, 2003 -- two months before the Cleveland Cavaliers made James the No. 1 overall pick in the draft. But their paths have been linked for as long as we can remember -- and will cross again soon. James is set to serve as a captain for this weekend's 2019 NBA All-Star Game, being staged in Charlotte, North Carolina, where Jordan serves as the owner of the Hornets. Shortly after, James, now in his 16th season, likely will pass Jordan for fourth on the league's all-time scoring list. So who is the real GOAT? The debate rages on. On your television. In the comments section. In your Twitter replies.

But it doesn't matter what we say. Here are Jordan and James, in their own words, talking about each other over the past 17 years.

2001: The first meeting

LeBron James was a young high school star who had yet to make his big impression on the national stage when he first met Michael Jordan, who was preparing for a comeback with the Wizards. James spoke about that first meeting this past December as he prepared to play the Jordan-owned Hornets in Charlotte.

LeBron: First time meeting Jordan was 'godly'

LeBron James reminisces about the first time he met Michael Jordan in 2001.

"It was godly. I've said that over and over before, but it was like meeting God for the first time. That's what I felt like as a 16-year-old kid when I met MJ. -- LeBron James Dec. 15, 2018 (Source: Multiple, pregame media availability)

2002: LeBron hits the scene

Just a year later, James himself was getting compared to deities, being dubbed "The Chosen One" on the cover of "Sports Illustrated" as a junior in high school.

"He's very talented. But he's young, and there's a lot of things he doesn't know." -- Michael Jordan Jan. 18, 2002 (Source: Associated Press)

"If you have a chance to talk to him, you listen. More people listen to him than listen to the president of the United States."

-- LeBron James Nov. 5, 2002 (Source: Newhouse News Services)

2003: Jordan exits, James enters

"Is he capable? Yes. He has the skills that most 18-year-olds do not have. Now, if you equate that to playing in the league, I think he would be an average player in our league right now with the potential to be a better player. To say that he can step in at the same level as a Tracy McGrady or a Kobe Bryant would be unfair to LeBron James." -- Michael Jordan Feb. 4, 2003 (Source: MSG Network)

"Michael Jordan is the greatest basketball player ever and ... if anybody in the world can criticize somebody, it can be Michael Jordan. There's no way I'm going to get mad at Michael Jordan criticizing me. There's no way. Michael Jordan is like a dad. If Michael Jordan is going to tell anybody to do something -- the players, the media, the coaches -- you should do it. Simple as that." -- LeBron James April 16, 2003 (Source: Associated Press)

"I'm not going to be able to do it the way Jordan did, I can tell you that. I think I can produce enough, contribute enough, on and off the court, to lift the city of Cleveland." -- LeBron James June 27, 2003 (Source: New York Post)

A changing of the guard was taking place, whether Jordan wanted to acknowledge it or not. Jordan played his final game as a member of the Wizards on April 16, 2003. Two months later, James was selected No. 1 overall by the Cavaliers, a team Jordan famously tormented during his NBA career. The next generation had arrived.

Before his first game as a professional at Chicago's United Center -- The House That MJ Built -- James tried to downplay the comparisons.

"I'm not trying to be Jordan. I'm not trying to compare myself to Jordan or Magic [Johnson] or [Larry] Bird. A lot of people are, but I'm not. They have their own legacies. I'm trying to build my own. I know Michael, but I don't communicate with him. I'm just trying to be me." -- LeBron James Dec. 19, 2003 (Source: Chicago Sun Times)

2004-2006: James on the rise

Though James downplayed the Jordan comparison, he was forced to face it again in 2004, when he made his Team USA debut -- wearing the same No. 9 that Jordan had worn with the Dream Team.

"It didn't matter what I said, I knew you guys would make that connection anyway. That was the greatest basketball team of all time." -- LeBron James Aug. 13, 2004 (Source: The Record -- of Bergen County, New Jersey)

"I think he's doing fine on his own. Obviously, you guys are comparing him with me. They did it with me when I came up with [Julius Erving] and Oscar [Robertson]. But I think the thing about LeBron and what makes him hopefully survive is that he does what's best for LeBron, not what people expect him to do, who think he should be Michael Jordan." -- Michael Jordan Feb. 10, 2005 (Source: New York Daily News)

"I've seen classic games of Jordan versus the Pistons and the Bulls versus the Pistons. To become the best, you've got to beat the best. It might not happen the first year or the second year or third year, but you just got to keep working at it and, hopefully, you'll get over that hump. [Jordan] was able to overcome adversity and overcome the beast. He became the beast." -- LeBron James May 9, 2006 (Source: The Globe and Mail, Canada)

Those classic Pistons-Bulls clashes -- four series from 1988 to 1991 -- saw Detroit's rough-and-tumble "Jordan Rules" blitz and bruise the Bulls star with a defensive scheme now outlawed. The Pistons overcame Chicago until Jordan got over the hump in 1991. Before Game 2 of the 2006 Eastern Conference semis during James' first postseason, James considered the obstacle of the modern Bad Boys, a Pistons championship group that would make six straight conference finals from 2003 to 2008. James, it turned out, was a year away.

2007: LeBron makes 'The Leap'

On This Date: LeBron scores Cavs' final 25 points.

On May 31, 2007, LeBron James scored 48 points as Cleveland beat Detroit in Game 5 of the Eastern Conference finals.

In Game 5 of the Eastern Conference finals, James put on a Jordanesque show, scoring the Cavaliers' final 25 points to lift them to a double-overtime win. Two days later, Cleveland reached its first NBA Finals by eliminating the Pistons, the same team Jordan had gotten past to reach his first Finals in 1991. Though James and the Cavs would end up being swept by the San Antonio Spurs in the Finals, Jordan was complimentary of James' accomplishments ... to an extent.

"What just transpired was something I felt was needed for the league, was needed for Cleveland, was needed for LeBron. Making 'The Leap' is where you do it every single night. It's expected of you, and you do it. ... Not one game, not two games. It's consistent. Every defense comes in and they focus on you and you still impact the game. I think he's shown signs of that." -- Michael Jordan June 4, 2007 (Source: Chicago Tribune)

"Anytime you get praise from the guy who basically laid down all the stones for you to get here -- I grew up idolizing his game and how he played the game of basketball -- it was definitely great to hear." -- LeBron James June 4, 2007 (Source: Associated Press)

2008-2009: LeBron strikes out on his own

"I'm a totally different player than Michael Jordan. As far as the next Jordan, there is no such thing. There's one Michael Jordan and only one, and no one compares with him." -- LeBron James March 6, 2008 (Source: Chicago Tribune)

On this date: LeBron sinks Magic with dramatic buzzer-beater.

LeBron James nails a 3-pointer over Hedo Turkoglu as time expires to give the Cavaliers a 96-95 win over the Magic in Game 2 of the 2009 Eastern Conference finals.

"That guy is not in the league anymore. The other 23 is on the good side now." -- LeBron James May 22, 2009 (Source: Associated Press)

Of course, Jordan had been retired for six years, but the memories of his dominance hadn't faded, especially in Cleveland. That's why when James hit what he called the biggest shot of his career to that point, a buzzer-beating 3 over Hedo Turkoglu to beat the Orlando Magic in Game 2 of the 2009 Eastern finals, the hometown hero said it was out of his "Michael Jordan bag of tricks." But the Cavs would go on to lose the series in six games.

2009-2010: The Decision and the aftermath

"He's made his mark in Cleveland. I know New York fans would love to have him, but you need a lot more components than just one player. He's done a heck of a job in Cleveland, and they deserve to have him there." -- Michael Jordan June 13, 2009 (Source: New York Daily News)

"In a fantasy world, there are a lot of guys in the NBA you would love to see who could you be on the same team and see how you match up with the rest of the NBA. Not just myself, everybody in the league has visualized playing with somebody, even guys who are not in the league anymore. I visualized playing alongside Michael Jordan when I was a kid. Everyone has that vision." -- LeBron James Nov. 12, 2009 (Source: Toronto Star Newspapers)

"It's time. He's the best basketball player we've ever seen. Mike does it on the court and off the court. If you see 23, you think about Michael Jordan.You see guys flying through the air, you think about Michael Jordan. You see game-winning shots, you think about Michael Jordan. You see fly kicks, you think about Michael Jordan. He did so much, it has to be recognized, and not just by putting him in the Hall of Fame. He can't get the logo, and if he can't, something has to be done. I feel like no NBA player should wear 23.Nobody. If I'm not going to wear No. 23, then nobody else should be able to wear it." -- LeBron James Nov. 12, 2009 (Source: TNT)

Be like Mike: LeBron wants to own an NBA team

LeBron James has modeled his career after Michael Jordan's. Will he own a team like MJ does in the future?

Five names ready to dominate the next 10 All-Star games

With LeBron in MJ's house for this weekend's All-Star Game, here are five 25-and-under stars with the talent and star power to take the throne in a post-LeBron NBA.

Is LeBron overtaking MJ as the greatest player of all time?

LeBron's dominance at age 33 is forcing a reconsideration on the question of who is the greatest basketball player ever.

In retrospect, James' comments before and after that Nov. 12 game in Miami -- a game Jordan watched from a courtside seat -- should've been a sign. James talked about teaming up with "a lot of guys" (perhaps his good friend Dwyane Wade, for example), then said Jordan's 23 should be retired leaguewide -- like it already was in Miami, though Jordan never played for the Heat. James wore No. 6 during his time in Miami.

"There's no way, with hindsight, I would've ever called up Larry [Bird], called up Magic [Johnson] and said, 'Hey, look, let's get together and play on one team.' But that's ... things are different. I can't say that's a bad thing. It's an opportunity these kids have today. In all honesty, I was trying to beat those guys." -- Michael Jordan July 18, 2010 (Source: NBC)

In an interview that aired 10 days after "The Decision," Jordan made it clear where he stood on James teaming up with Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami. It was in line with many of James' critics who believed the NBA's best should be playing against one another.

2011: LeBron's Finals failure

Scottie Pippen, Jordan's co-star for six titles, had said that James could, someday, be better than Jordan. At 26 years old, James already had developed into one of the best all-around players in NBA history.

"I'm gracious. Humbled by Scottie's comments, especially with him being a teammate of his and seeing Michael on a day-to-day basis. But as far as me, I'm not going to sit here and say I'm better than Jordan. I'm not better than Jordan." -- LeBron James May 28, 2011 (Source: Associated Press)

Ten days after these comments, James would have perhaps the worst game of his career: a deer-in-the-headlights, eight-point stinker in Game 4 of the NBA Finals. The Heat would lose to the Dallas Mavericks in six games.

2012-2013: Count the rings?

"Jordan was my superhero growing up. He was the guy I feel helped me get to where I am today. As a competitor, who would not want to go against the best? That's like asking [Tom] Brady would he want to go against [Joe] Montana in the fourth quarter." -- LeBron James Dec. 6, 2012 (Source: Sports Illustrated)

James might have won his first title in 2012, but he still had a long way to go in Jordan's eyes. When asked which player he would choose if he was starting a team from scratch, James or Kobe Bryant, Jordan sided with the Lakers star, who already had a fistful of rings -- though still one less than Jordan himself.

"If you had to pick between the two, that would be a tough choice, but five beats one every time I look at it. And not that [James] won't get five. He may get more than that, but five is bigger than one." -- Michael Jordan Feb. 15, 2013 (Source: NBA TV)

"At the end of the day, rings don't always define someone's career. If that's the case, then I'd sit up here and say I'd take [Bill] Russell over Jordan. But I wouldn't take Russell over Jordan. Russell has 11 rings, Jordan has six. Or I'd take Robert Horry over Kobe. I wouldn't do that. ... You look at a guy like Jud Buechler, who has multiple rings. Charles Barkley doesn't have one ring. He's not better than Charles Barkley. Patrick Ewing is one of the greatest of all time. Reggie Miller is one of the greatest of all time. Sometimes, it's the situation you're in. Timing, as well. I don't play the game and try to define who I am over what guys say or how they feel about me." -- LeBron James Feb. 16, 2013 (Source: New York Post)

2013-2015: The debate heats up

"If I have to guard him, I'm gonna push him left so nine times out of 10 he's gonna shoot a jump shot. If he goes right, he's going to the hole and I can't stop him. So I ain't letting him go right." -- Michael Jordan Feb. 22, 2013 (Source: ESPN's Wright Thompson)

Like the ring-counting argument, James didn't side with Jordan here, either, calling Jordan's theory "wrong." Two weeks after Jordan's comments were published, James beat the Magic with a buzzer-beating layup off a drive to his left. James then did the same to Paul George two months later to win Game 1 of the Eastern Conference finals. Was Jordan on his mind? We'll never know.

"I watch Jordan more than anybody; for sure, MJ wasn't perfect. MJ had bad games. He had turnovers. He had games where he felt like he should have been better. But I think the greatest thing about MJ was that he never was afraid to fail. And I think that's why he succeeded so much, because he was never afraid of what anybody ever said about him. Never afraid to miss a game-winning shot, never afraid to turn the ball over. Never afraid. That's one of my biggest obstacles. I'm afraid of failure. I want to succeed so bad that I become afraid of failing." -- LeBron James Oct. 19, 2013 (Source: ESPN)

Though James and Jordan never met on the court as opponents, they've been in the same building plenty of times, including during the 2014 playoffs, when James' Heat swept the Jordan-owned Charlotte Bobcats in the first round. During Game 3, Jordan had a courtside view for a vintage James breakaway dunk, one that seemed to follow James shooting a look at Jordan.

"No, no. Don't start that. Absolutely not, man. Absolutely not. I was able to read [Josh] McRoberts, get a steal and push the lead back up. I absolutely didn't look at MJ, for sure." -- LeBron James April 26, 2014 (Source: The Charlotte Observer)

"Why you guys ask me this question? You know this is an ESPN question. You know it's gonna be all over ESPN. If I was in my prime, could I beat LeBron in a one-on-one game? No question!" -- Michael Jordan Aug. 10, 2015 (Source: Bay Area HQ via MJ Flight School Camp)

Jordan was holding court with attendees at his Flight School camp when the question came up -- though it's unlikely it was the first time he was asked about it. We'll never know the results of a hypothetical matchup, but we can at least check out the tale of the tape:

2016: Chasing ghosts

"My motivation is this ghost I'm chasing. The ghost played in Chicago. ... I think it's cool to put myself in position to be one of those great players, but if I can ever put myself in position to be the greatest player, that would be something extraordinary." -- LeBron James Aug. 2, 2016 (Source: Sports Illustrated)

One day before his 32nd birthday, James was asked by a reporter if he studied a 32-year-old Jordan, whose game had evolved from all fire and fury at the rim to more fadeaways and jab steps. Jordan, as the reporter pointed out, last averaged over 30.0 points per game in his age-32 season. James didn't bite.

"No, I haven't [studied Jordan], because our games are so different. He was much more of a scorer. At that point, he did a lot of post work, but our games are just different. His body is different, my body is different than his. You recognize the dominance that someone had at that age, but there's no similarities in our game, at all." -- LeBron James Dec. 29, 2016 (Source: Cavs.com)

2017-2018: Mutual respect

"I think I fell in love with the game because of Mike, just seeing what he was able to accomplish. When you're growing up and you're seeing Michael Jordan, it's almost like a god. So, I didn't ever believe I could be Mike. I started to focus on myself, on other players and other people around my neighborhood, because I never thought that you could get to a point where Mike was. I shot fadeaways before I should have. I wore a leg sleeve on my leg and folded it down so you saw the red part. I wore black-and-red shoes with white socks. I wore short shorts so you could see my undershorts underneath. I didn't go bald like Mike, but I'm getting there. Other than that, I did everything Mike did. I even wore a wristband on my forearm. I didn't do the hoop earring, either. That was Mike. But I did everything Mike did, man. I wanted to be Mike, so for my name to come up in any discussion with Michael Jordan or Kareem [Abdul-Jabbar] ... it's a wow factor." -- LeBron James May 26, 2017 (Source: Cleveland Plain Dealer)

"I support LeBron James. He's doing an amazing job for his community." -- Michael Jordan Aug. 4, 2018 (Source: NBC News)

After the beef between James and President Donald Trump -- Trump tweeted that CNN anchor Don Lemon "made LeBron look smart, which isn't easy to do. I like Mike!" -- Jordan backed James, who has been a loud and frequent critic of the president. While Jordan mostly stayed quiet on political issues during his playing career, his level of involvement has increased in recent years.

"MJ made the game global. He made the game global. He made people all over the world want to watch the game of basketball because of his marketability, because of the way he played the game of basketball, because of who he was. He kind of transcended that era." -- LeBron James Dec. 15, 2018 (Source: ESPN)

2018: The last word?

LeBron feels he's the GOAT after Cavs' 2016 title win.

In the latest episode of "More Than An Athlete," LeBron James says his historic 2016 NBA Finals win made him the greatest player ever. Go to ESPN+ and subscribe now to view full episodes.

"That one right there made me the greatest player of all time. That's what I felt. I was super, super ecstatic to win one for Cleveland because of the 52-year drought. ... The first wave of emotion was when everyone saw me crying, like, that was all for 52 years of everything in sports that's gone on in Cleveland. And then after I stopped, I was like -- that one right there made you the greatest player of all time." -- LeBron James

-Anthony Olivieri

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a-ramblings-blog · 8 years

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9.3.17 Yesterday was “International Women’s Day” and as I recently reached the point which marks the 21st year in my voyage through this planet I felt an urge to reflect.

I set this blog up months ago with the complete intention of posting regularly on various subjects…This hasn’t happened even at all due to reasons including; acute procrastination, avoidance as a result of chronic self doubt, an inability to time-manage, contrived self-destruction and my recently discovered ENFP personality type amongst other excuses, but more on that later…

I’d like to make this a kind of introduction, so excuse me if I stray while I familiarise. I am very conscious of my natural inclination towards nonsensical waffling between subjects but this is, to my mind, symptomatic of what I call the “Artistic disposition” a seemingly common affliction, documented throughout history, burdened upon those who teeter the edge between complete eco-centric narcissism and persistent self loathing with a permanently insatiable need for affirmation and admiration…Yes I’m talking about those we call ‘Creatives’. Those loveable rogues, those captivating eccentrics bursting with charisma and burning sexuality who we just can’t live with, or without.

I’m embarrassed already, questioning that statement as perhaps it’s not a blanket generalisation but rather a pretty accurate description of myself (the former, not the poetic complimentary part). Even the fact that I intended on this being an anonymous blog where I may hopefully speak frankly with some intelligence and charm has me twitching as I half want credit for it…This of course goes hand in hand with a simultaneous reminder that nobody is likely to even read this. The irony ensues.

Anyway back to womanhood and yesterday…Womanhood itself is of course an endless topic of discussion to which I do wish to add many thoughts and feelings, probably once I get the hang of this, in the form of a more specific essay.

I don’t know what it is about turning twenty-one that has conjured this sudden need to project my voice in this way and it seems that yesterday (IWD) has spurred me, after months of non-action, to write this first appraisal. Is it because “21” is the point at which woman-hood begins I wonder? (I’m not convinced of that, I can’t possibly be a grown up)…Is it due to yesterday’s abundance of social media posts about heroic and historical female figures and pioneers and aspiring to be one? Admiring the portrait of Emmeline Pankhurst at the National Portrait Gallery lingeringly and feeling comparatively irrelevant? Listening to Lena Dunham’s podcast and watching “Girls” for nine hours straight the other day? My apparent death-complex I’ve still not sussed in spite of 6 weeks of talking therapy? The aforementioned narcissistic tendencies? Noted dis-engagement with political and world issues as a result of long standing, deep-rooted fantasist mindset? The fast approaching conclusion of my useless art degree leading to a haphazard attempt to nurture some other skills and un-tapped writing potential just in case? Probably all of the above with a few others thrown in. I could analyse for hours but I’ll spare you the noose.

I’m not for one moment implying total ignorance prior to yesterdays celebrations, yet something about it has caused the bullet to be bitten. I’ll settle on “Inspiration” as a general reasoning behind finally embarking on this journey into the blogisphere…is that enough of an introduction now? (rhetorical).

[*This marks the 500-ish word point so I’m checking out until tomorrow. This is in attempt at self/quality control so I will review after a nights sleep…stick with me]

Part Deux.

10.3.17 I’m sat in the V&A which is my new favourite thing to do of a Friday evening, I’ve just read back through yesterdays waffle and all I amended was one spelling mistake and the inclusion of a comma so I think I’m doing ok so far.

I spent more time being in awe of women today as I attended a talk with Imogen Heap, the second time I’ve done so in the last few weeks. I think she is quite possibly superhuman. Not only has she had a long-spanning, multi-faceted music career, an ability to play several instruments and be one of the most compellingly understated and charismatic people I’ve ever been in the presence of, she’s also become the CEO of a company and had a huge hand in the development of these futuristic sensory gloves (mi.mu gloves) which, when calibrated and programmed with music software enable you to create full songs in real-time with layering, harmonies, effects, instruments, looping etc all of which are controlled by your own decided hand movements. She demonstrated this today and my depiction fails to accurately convey how amazing it is. There are probably videos that exist somewhere in the internet ether. Oh, she also became a mother amidst all this AND is developing a project which could quite possibly revolutionise the whole infrastructure of the music industry to the benefit of artists in her “spare time”. It’s all well above and beyond my articulating capabilities due to the deeply tekkie nature of her endeavours. It’s a lot to do with blockchain technology and other complicated sciencey type things. Basically, I’m moved.

Reflecting further on the subject of women I realised the absolute importance of staunch female role models, the evolving emergence of said women in this age within the media particularly and the significance some ladies have had on my own life. There are numerous very personal relationships too and I could write a dissertation and a hundred sonnets about each of them. I am certain that without the influence and encouragement of these particular women I would not be… well even in existence without my mum, but, I cannot imagine who what or where I’d be without them…and I don’t want to. I am continually and endlessly inspired. I will stop myself there before this turns into an acceptance speech. All that’s left for me to say is Thank YOU, if anybody’s out there, for seeing this through until the bitter end. This, my baptism of fire into unknown realms.

Join me at some point in the near future for my next post which will likely delve into the world of performance artist Penny Arcade and other heroines as well as some perspectives on the sheer absurdity of Millennials in the inimitable style of a “good old British moan”.

With love,

A. Ramblings

p.s HOMEWORK: Books by women I have read recently and liked/found refuge in;

Not That Kind Of Girl - Lena Dunham The First Bad Man - Miranda July The First Lady - April Ashley Bonkers - Jennifer Saunders

p.p.s I welcome your feedback with open arms and would be very grateful of some book/research suggestions! I am ready for you, do your worst.

#women #international womens day #musicians #female artists #female musicians #female CEO’s #heroines #emmeline pankhurst #womanhood #a.ramblings #creativity #national portrait gallery #lena dunham #girls #death complex #therapy #millennials #culture #imogen heap #blockchain technology #v&a #miranda july #april ashley #jennifer saunders #penny arcade #performance art

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the-end-of-art · 5 years

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Ended loneliness

From Mary Karr Names Names by Nina Puro at The Fix

Karr teaches in the Creative Writing Program at Syracuse University, where I once took a memoir class with her. On the first day she got in a huge spat with the program director, who came in and told her she was in the wrong classroom. They traded some choice barbs and he walked out. Then she broke character and told us to write down everything that happened—it had all been an act. The class argued long and hard about whether he was wearing pants or long shorts, and the exact wording of the final insult. Our recollections of such a recent event, as well as our personal reactions, varied wildly. The exercise demonstrated how inaccurate memoir is. Karr gave The Fix a chance to see if interview can do any better.

The Paris Review called you “surprisingly diffident when it comes to talking about [your]self.” Have meetings and therapy helped you become more comfortable with that?

Everything I wanted people to know I’ve already presented, and in some ways I’m more candid in talking about myself than I was before. When you surrender, you get used to a certain level of candor—you know, the old thing, you’re only as sick as your secrets. You develop a confidence in truth-telling. Part of my drinking was so much about trying not to feel things, to not feel how I actually felt, and the terrible thing about being so hidden is if people tell you they love you…it kinda doesn’t sink in. You always think, if you’re hiding things, How could you know who I am? You don’t know who I am, so how could you love me? Saying who I am, and trying to be as candid as possible as part of practicing the principles, has permitted me to actually connect with people for the first time in my life. It’s ended lifelong exile.

They always say God is in the truth, and I’ve ended loneliness and been able to feel connected by saying who I am and how I feel. I’m sort of comfortable to the degree to which I’m an asshole. It’s not like I’m not an asshole—people know the ways I’m an asshole and it’s within the realm of acceptable asshole-ocity. Part of my drinking and depression was having a voice in my head that was constantly criticizing everybody. I was sort of brought up that way, hypercritical, and I feel like my spiritual practice is a constant correction out of judging everybody else. But I think I’m more critical of myself than anybody, strangely enough, as marvelous as I am.

It’s generally agreed that the enormous success of The Liars' Club spurred a lot more confessional memoirs. But since then, there’s also been a trend in other media to broadcast people’s deepest secrets in a way that’s often seen as exploitive. What do you think about shows like Intervention and so on?

I think the problem with visual media like TV is that they’re reductive. They don’t show the psychological complexity, the real struggle and practice of what it is to have to give up the substance. I think Dr. Drew should be shot. I really do. That guy...small wonder that everybody who’s on 'Celebrity Drug House' or whatever it is would like to blow their fucking brains out. He seems like the most malevolent—I’m sure he means well, I’m sure he has benevolent impulses—but he seems so insincere and exploitative. And also, being told, “Oh yes, you are special because you’re a celebrity and trying to get sober”… I think those shows, especially with celebrities, are awful, and that’s why anonymity is important: Nobody should be a spokesperson. I’m not an example of anything, and the best way to learn about how to quit drinking is to spend a lot of time talking one-on-one with people who have done it.

James Frey is another famous memoirist and addict—a highly controversial one. Do you want to share your opinion of him, or should I nix that question?

No, no, go ahead. He was the guy who wanted nothing to do with AA—and look how well you turned out, you lying sack of shit! I felt sorry for that guy for a while and then when he started that thing—let’s rip off young people and exploit them—that thing he’s doing is just...really reprehensible, I don’t quite understand it.

If we can talk about your relationship with David Foster Wallace in the early ‘90s—did you get sober together?

He was in rehab and we’d met through friends; he was in rehab down the street and I lived in Belmont, Mass., which is where McLean [Hospital] is. When he got kicked out of Harvard they slam-dunked him in McLean, where I’d eventually do a happy little stint. One of the Whiting fellows said, "Can you contact him?" So I brought him a batch of brownies. I thought it was super sweet that they did that. I was about a month clean; his sobriety date was about a month after mine. So we ran into each other a lot. He was in a halfway house where I did volunteer work. I would drive people to job interviews and stuff like that; there were a lot of disabled people, people who only had one hand or whatever. Everybody there had to have a job and I drove a lot of people around. So I saw him there quite a bit, and we had a lot of mutual friends, many of whom ended up in Infinite Jest in a way I thought was…I really thought was unkind.

I remember you saying how a lot of Infinite Jest was lifted straight from meetings, despite the anonymity tradition. But some would say storytelling is always plagiarism, and maybe his book did people good; where’s the line?

Yeah, I thought it was pretty awful. Another person who does that is Augusten Burroughs. Everybody I ever wrote about, including David, I talked with in advance and said, “This is what I wanna do.” I talked to David before… I wasn’t going to use his name, then after he died, I’d talked to him before he did it and included him enough that I was gonna give him a pseudonym—which he said he didn’t care about, but nonetheless…then he was dead before the book came out. Tragically, stupidly...moron. Moron.

How much do you think his addiction or sobriety had to do with his death [by suicide in 2008]?

David had tried to kill himself three times before that, so you can’t slap that on it. I think being sober kept him alive way longer than he would have made it otherwise. But he wasn’t exactly sober by my measure: He was taking lots of anti-anxiety meds and stuff I consider chemically no different, so I don’t know exactly. I wasn’t in touch with him the last six months of his life. Such a tragic thing. And you know, I don’t know his wife but it seems like such a nasty fucking thing to do. Here’s this woman who’s been trying to take care of you and…I guess I could’ve imagined myself in that situation too easily, and I wouldn’t have been as nice about it as she was. I was lucky I wasn’t, I guess, but damn.

I think we kept each other alive to some extent, for a period of time when we were trying to quit using and it was all but impossible for each of us to do that. And I think our friendship and sobriety was important to both of us. I told him a lot of things about how he was writing. Everybody was very in awe of him because he was so much smarter than everybody. I’d been living in Cambridge where everybody was smarter than everybody, and I’d sort of decided that smart wasn’t that big of a deal. Not that it’s not a great advantage, but in his case I think it was a great disadvantage.

There’s this idea of the tortured artist, or of a link between depression and creativity—is that true and necessary? If so, how do you make meaningful art after recovery, if you’re no longer tortured?

Well, I don’t know, maybe you don’t. I’ve been sober almost 25 years and anything anyone’s ever bought from me has been written when I was sober. If I hadn’t been, I would’ve been like David, swinging from a fucking noose. That really cuts down on your creativity. [Laughs]

When I was super depressed, I wasn’t working—I was always too depressed. Hemingway did his best work when he didn’t drink, then he drank himself to death and blew his head off with a shotgun. Someone asked John Cheever, “What’d you learn from Hemingway?” and he said “I learned not to blow my head off with a shotgun.” I remember going to the Michigan poetry festival, meeting Etheridge Knight there and Robert Creeley. Creeley was so drunk—he was reading and he only had one eye, of course, and had to hold his book like two inches from his face using his one good eye. But you look at somebody like George Saunders—I think he’s the best short story writer in English alive—that’s somebody who tries very hard to live a sane, alert life.

You’re present when you’re not drinking a fifth of Jack Daniel’s every day. It’s probably better for your writing career, you know? I think being tortured as a virtue is a kind of antiquated sense of what it is to be an artist. It comes out of that Symbolist idea, back to Rimbaud and all that disordering of the senses and all of that being some exalted state. When I’ve been that way, I’ve always been less exalted than I would have liked.

So in the beginning you said you weren’t going to talk about AA. I was planning to ask whether you still go to meetings or have a sponsor. Should I nix that?

Well, I guess what I would say is, I always talk to people who are trying to stay sober and trying to have some kind of connection or community. And I spend a lot of time talking to young women with little kids who were trying to quit drinking, because when I was a young woman with a little kid and I was trying to quit drinking and a single mom, it was so hard; I was so deranged. So I feel an obligation to be of service. And there were people who helped me and talked to me and talked to my kid, who made places in their lives when I was so isolated—I want to be available to them— to any woman I have time for who is raising a kid and trying to quit drinking, I want to be available to them. So I guess I’d talk to that with that amount of a fig leaf.

I’m going to Michigan this week to talk to women at an organization that runs domestic violence shelters for women who are in violent relationships and struggling with addiction, or their partners are.

Do you think some people have addictive tendencies that both precede and outlast active use: the “addictive personality”? I’m thinking, now, about your habit of coming into class with two giant Wegmans green teas, and the gregarious ferocity with which you approach your students, and any conversation, which kinda scares people sometimes...

Oh, yeah! I would snort all the coke and kiss all the boys—if I could live on Ho-Hos, Jack Daniel’s and pharmaceutical cocaine, I would (and not blow my brains out, ‘cause that’s exactly what I’d do). I have a completely addictive personality. Diet Coke is my last—God, I know people counting days off Diet Coke; I’m such a Diet Cokehead. Now I won’t let myself buy it. I’m sorta like the girl who only gets coke from boys—at parties I let myself have a Diet Coke with lime and it’s exactly like snorting a line. If a bomb goes off, I’m getting a carton of Marlboros.

There’s a notion of your being and celebrating the pistol-packing outlaw—a very Texan lack of adherence to convention—which addicts often resemble. But in recovery, the idea of surrender, of adherence to rules, is something people have to learn. How have you managed?

I used to think of it as an adherence to rules, and the really horrible thing about quitting drinking is, I think, inside my mind I was so divided against myself. Nobody really talks about what happens to you and your level of self-confidence when you tell yourself every fucking day you’re going to drink X, and then you drink 10 times that—or you’re not going to drink at all and you drink anyway. You become very split off against yourself. So there was a part of me that would yell and scream and say, “You stupid bitch, goddamnit, you said you weren’t gonna drink and you drank anyway.” And there was this other part that was like “Fuck those people! Fuck the rules!” you know, blah blah blah…

You assume that when you quit drinking, you’re surrendering to that kind of nasty schoolmarm rule-maker. But for me getting sober has been freedom—freedom from anxiety and freedom from…my head. What has kept me sober is not that strict rule-following schoolmarm. There’s more of a loving presence that you become aware of that is I think everyone’s real, actual self—who we really are.

Blake said, “...we are put on Earth a little space / That we might learn to bear the beams of love.” And I think, quote-unquote, “bearing the beams of love” is where the freedom is, actually. Every drunk is an outlaw, and certainly every artist is. Making amends, to me, is again about freedom. I do that to be free of the past, to not be haunted. That schoolmarm part of me—that hypercritical finger-wagging part of myself that I thought was gonna keep me sober—that was is actually what helped me stay drunk. What keeps you sober is love and connection to something bigger than yourself.

When I got sober, I thought giving up was saying goodbye to all the fun and all the sparkle, and it turned out to be just the opposite. That’s when the sparkle started for me.

(https://www.thefix.com/content/mary-karr-liars-sober91684?page=all)

#Mary Karr #writer #writing #addiction #sober #sobriety #David Foster Wallace #memoir #recovery #love

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729renegades · 5 years

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Being Healthy on the Inside and Out – Part 2

Following on from my article last month, I introduced you to the exciting new product that we are developing behind the scenes that’ll help us attract more business owners into the Renegades circle.

Everyone wants different things, but we all want to be successful and this month I continue to discuss what an important part your health and wellbeing plays in being healthy on the inside and out. I firmly believe that if you look after yourself in a small way, you’re better equipped to deal with the demands of running a business and juggling a family and private life.

Let’s be fair, if you feel like shit then you normally can’t muster up enough effort to have a great day. You may get away with the odd day for a cough or cold but if its sustained then everything suffers. This is why when I appraised myself and my situation, I knew things had to change for the better.

How many times have you used that old excuse of working long, tired, no time? Bollocks! It’s a matter of priorities.

Your biggest asset is you and your health and well-being. It doesn’t matter if you have the best ideas, or you are the greatest ever entrepreneur – when you’re dead, you’re dead! If you can’t muster up the energy to do everyday tasks then you’re going to struggle with the demands of running a business, being an entrepreneur, a wife, mother, husband, and a father.

I discovered that if I wanted to work on me, then I had to make time for me.

The good Lord isn’t making any more time.

Your biggest asset is you and your health and well-being. It doesn’t matter if you have the best ideas, or you are the greatest ever entrepreneur – when you’re dead, you’re dead

It doesn’t matter who you are or how much money you have, there’s still only 24 hours in a day. At some stage in that day you have to factor in sleeping and eating, the rest is up for grabs.

I heard a great saying the other day, “Busy is a choice”, I love that saying. How many times do you ask, “How are you?” or “How’s things?” and the reply is, “I’m so busy”. My inner voice screams “Really, really, everyone’s bloody busy”!! I obviously don’t say that, if someone has a genuine problem, I love to help but, on most occasions, they’re just moans and groans about life in general and life choices that people make.

My father used to say whenever he was asked that, “How are you?” question, he would always say “Good, Excellent or Great”.

I found out, as I grew up, he’s a wise man, he used to say, “It doesn’t matter if life is bad and things are getting you down, nobody wants to hear about how bad it is, so they simply don’t listen”.

He’s right, if you ask someone how they are, and they start back with, “Terrible because Auntie Ethel’s got a cold and Mum’s cat got run over….” Straight away you think shut up and switch off. We all have our own issues and problems.

What I’ve found is by saying, “Excellent” or “Super Well” people genuinely say, “really, how so” and are now interested and perked up themselves. I’d much rather people say, “Steve is such a positive person, always happy…” Than “Did you see Steve today, he’s a miserable old bastard…” your behaviour and demeanour can positively or negatively affect you and those around you.

I said I would share what works for me so here goes:

The alarm is set of 0545, I either go to the gym or I get to the office, whether that’s the home office or work office. I try and do between 3 and 5 workouts a week. Doing it by yourself at that time of the morning can be tough, so get a kindred spirit or do as I did and get a personal trainer. When I started that, could I afford it? No, my mindset was, could I afford not to? The answer again was. . . No. You don’t need to be loaded to get a trainer, again it’s about priorities. A decent trainer will cost you about £25 a session, that’s 3 bottles of wine a week or one take away – you pick!

I normally do 2 sessions with the trainer a week, Monday and Friday mornings are my preferred choice. Monday ensures the odd glass of wine on a Sunday lunch doesn’t spread to two bottles over the day! Friday finishes the week off when the energy levels can be sagging slightly and sets the weekend up perfectly. On the other occasions I’ll do a session the trainer has given me, hit the weights or even take a class in the gym.

One way I have found that spurs me on besides the thought of getting killed by my trainer is to set myself crazy challenges. I have done Duathlons, Obstacle Courses, Triathlons, 10K runs, I’ve already mentioned that Cardiff Half Marathon.

Most recently I set myself a target of raising £10,000 for a Cancer Hospital that saved my Mother’s life when she had breast cancer. She was 70, it was 15 years since she had the treatment. I agreed to cycle 400 miles in 5 days across the North Island of New Zealand with a bunch of other crazy folk I had never met before. That kept me going for a year!

On other days when I get in the office, I try not to get into work stuff until after 0830. That’s the same as if I’ve been training. On these days I do some self-development stuff. I write, I read, I listen or learn.

Recently I’ve started using an App called Headspace to meditate and that has really helped my sense of wellbeing.

The App allows you to meditate even if you’ve never had a go before or if you are a seasoned expert. It helps you and sets you on course.

For me I found it when I was struggling with a feeling of anxiety, but I use it now most days just to give my mind that time, perhaps 20 minutes, to switch off and declutter.

It certainly helps me as I find myself thinking fast from the moment my eyes open until they close at bed time.

Meditation gives me that peace and time to put things back in the places they should be. It’s like my brain files things where they should be while I am concentrating on my breathing!!!

These mornings are my saviour and it’s my working on “me time”.

A word here for all those people who say, “Oh I hate mornings” or “Sorry, I don’t do mornings. I was one of you, but I changed because I wanted to, and I saw the value in changing. I made a choice, you can too.

If you had asked my wife if she could see me getting up before 6am and doing what I do now, she literally would have died laughing. When we first met, I’d be in bed until after 8 most days. I was lazy and depressed. That allowed the negativity to keep eating away and I gave it the fuel it needed to survive by my routines and choices.

I find that once I’ve started the day off well, I make a sensible breakfast choice, I have energy, I feel good and that feeds through the rest of the day. When I feel like that and a challenge comes in then I’m ready to face it and find it easy to roll with the ups and downs of the day with a positive frame of mind. When I was in a bad place and bad routines then if a challenge came in, I’d blame every man and his dog and wished I’d never got up, the negativity would feed my day and it would go pair shaped from there.

There’s a saying, “Win the morning – Win the day”, and there have been loads of books and people to follow on this. Miracle Morning is a book that I read. It advocates getting up very early. I liked it but I made my own way. One guy that I follow on Social Media is Jocko Willick. He’s an American ex-Navy Seal Commander and he’s passionate about his morning rituals. He has started a 0430 club on twitter and takes a photo of his watch every morning showing something like 0431 Rise and Shine with his favourite #getafterit. Maybe he appeals to my ex forces mentality, but it does make me smile.

The morning is key for me. But what time is best for you? When will you be able to start a positive routine and stick to it?

I get the exercise done and, in the bag, early doors. It’s at a time that doesn’t give me an excuse that it could hamper with family – they are all still in bed and work can’t get in the way because that hasn’t started yet either. It gives me time to think and plan and I can sometimes kill two birds with one stone by listening to an audiobook or podcast while training. Self-development and exercise done by 7.30am!! If you honestly think you have no more time in the day – set your alarm earlier. I appreciate that those with young children may disagree but find your space at other times. If you have a young family, that normally means they are in bed for 8pm so instead of watching Netflix with a glass of wine, start your positive routine then. Get your running shoes on or just do something with your spouse or partner, read a book, work on yourself until 10pm. I know you’re tired, funny enough I am in the morning when I wake up for the gym! It’s a matter of choices. As I said at the beginning, be happy with your choices but don’t complain if they are not serving you.

One thing that does help me on those early mornings is a positive mantra I say to myself every morning when I wake up and swing my legs out of the bed onto the floor. As I sit there for a moment gathering myself together, I just say, “Great people do great things” and I’m away. Its sounds better than, “Move fatty!” I am sure you’ll agree. Find your mantra, something that works for you. There are no shortage of great quotes and motivational snippets to help inspire you. Just Google “Motivational Quotes”. Another of my clients was hit by the idea in one of our sessions to use the phrase, “You choose your attitude” and he uses that every day now. That has worked well for him.

Napoleon Hill talks about positive affirmations and mantras in his famous book Think and Grow Rich in the chapter Auto Suggestion. If you haven’t read that then that can be one of the first things you do in your new routine!!

Look at every aspect of your day and how you can install good positive routines that eventually become habits. Email can suck the life out of every day. We’re fixated in holding our smart phones and replying instantly to emails as they arrive. Try and segment the day and only answer emails at certain times of the day.

Again, I don’t have all the answers, many will have all the excuses, others will give it all a try and adapt to make it fit for them and gain little wins and that’s all you can hope for.

Fact of the matter is this. . . If you want things to change in your life you have to make changes yourself. If you keep doing what you’ve done, you keep getting what you’ve got. Think into your life and what you want from it, I doubt that lethargy, reactive and negative will be words at the top of anyone’s list. If that is the case make sure what you do every day ensures those words can’t get on your list as its filled with other more positive ones like confidence, proactive, energy, positivity etc.

Your behaviour and demeanour can positively or negatively affect you and those around you

There will be some tough choices and you need to give yourself a talking to in order to stop the lure of Netflix and the red wine bottle but, remember, these are YOUR choices – nobody makes them for you.

A great routine doesn’t have to start at 5am, what about 8am or 11am, what about using your lunch break or 3pm. Why not 9pm?

Do something every day that evolves around your values and energises you.

Walking, reading, meditating, breakfast with your family, a song sung at the top of your lungs with the kids on the school run. Whatever it is makes little difference, as long as it’s positive.

Give yourself permission to spend time working on you. One of my clients has triplet girls and the mornings are filled already with breakfasts, teeth cleaning, school uniforms, hair, pony tails and that’s before 7am!! How can you possibly throw some me time in there? We talked about giving himself permission to take an hour in the day, after all he works late, after the girls have gone to bed so why can’t he allow himself that hour in the day. By giving yourself permission, you avoid that feeling of guilt, “I should be at my desk…” that feeling is serving nobody. I’m sure that when you spend that Saturday morning at your desk you’re thinking, “I should be with my family” or when you work to 10pm every evening you say, “I should be with my wife”. That feeling is common amongst us business owners and is not helpful. If you’re like me, you’ll never get it spot on but with permission you will be better at it.

There are so many other things that people do and believe in, like journaling and time blocking but I don’t do those things.

Other people make to do lists, but I find that they make you feel pressured and worse, especially as we tend to make long ones and leave them unfinished.

This leads to frustration, feeling of inadequacy and helplessness.

Something that I do and advocate for everyone’s health and wellbeing is to write that list and make it as long as you want but when it’s done sit there and get a highlighter pen and mark the one, most important thing that you can do today that makes today a success.

Once you’ve done that, just do that one and you can leave the office with a win.

It doesn’t matter how big or small that task is but by highlighting it as the one thing and doing it – you’ve won the day and you can go home with a sense of accomplishment.

How many times do you write that list and don’t even do anything but spend all day running around like a crazy person? You fill the entire day and sometimes don’t even have time for lunch. When you get home your lovely spouse says, “How was your day?” and you feel like you’ve achieved nothing.

You can stop that ever happening again by picking that one thing and doing it.

Go home every day a winner.

That’s a great tip for being healthy on the inside and the outside.

All the things I’ve outlined over the last two months help me achieve good health on the inside and the outside.

Routines

Exercise

Self-Development

Meditation

Mindful of outside negativity

Never compare yourself to others

Doing what is right and works for you

Daily mantras

Positivity

Challenge yourself

Owning and taking responsibility for your choices

So, over to you –

How can you feel healthy on the inside and the out – every day?

What will you do tomorrow morning that could change your entire day?

How can that first hour really set you up to win the day.

What will you say to yourself when you put your feet on the floor as you sit on the edge of the bed? What will your mantra be?

What will you give yourself permission to do today?

Be intentional about looking after yourself on the inside and the outside and it’ll make a huge difference in your life.

Good luck!

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torentialtribute · 5 years

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PETER CROUCH: We are just footballers… not targets for abuse

Peter Crouch is a columnist for Sportsmail

The first time I truly appreciated that life as a professional footballer would be different came one night in a bar when I was playing for Portsmouth.

I was only 20 and was doing what all 20-year-olds like to do, having a few drinks and a good time.

I'll never forget this night, though, as someone came up behind me and punched me in the face. He ran after doing it and I never saw him again. I also never set foot in that particular bar again.

It was a painful lesson but I told the story of the Jordan Jordan incident experienced last Sunday.

I´m not here to condemn Jordan, a goalkeeper I greatly admire, as I know exactly how he would have felt after extreme provocation.

Jordan Pickford made headlines this week after getting involved in a pub brawl

When I played for Liverpool, Abbey and I booked a holiday to Ibiza at the end of one season and were going to take an EasyJet flight from Manchester. When we got to the gate, a few of our fellow passengers were already in the party mood and they started heckling me.

None of that bothered me – I'd heard everything they said a thousand times and more – but when the insults were aimed at Abbey, the situation changed. I knew if we had boarded that plane there would be problems so we made the decision to leave it. We flew from London the next day instead.

That's what I find so frustrating. Had I reacted in the way Jordan did, my name would have been in the media while those who had been antagonizing us would have got no mention. I understand why that is but how can it be right that those who cause the issues remain anonymous?

Critics have the idea that footballers do not want to mix with the public but, believe me, that isn't the case. We aren't different but the profile that comes with our professional means you're always going to be a target for someone, somewhere.

I remember during my time at Tottenham, I was at a bar in Surrey. I was walking to the toilets and I heard two lads, as clear as anything, say: "There’s Peter Crouch, let's go and have some trouble." I walked straight out the door and went home. I was speechless.

Pickford flew into a craze when his girlfriend and the mother of his child was insulted

Reading the above, you might think my life is difficult but, honestly, that's not the case. The good times far outweigh the bath and I am lucky that the majority of opposition fans tend to be good-natured when I meet them. I don't turn down photos or autographs and I'm never, ever rude.

There is this aspect, though, because we play football, some people believe they can treat us how they want or say what they want. They want us to be approachable but I've seen enough cases of the line being stepped about and what happened to Jordan was another example.

He knows, or course, that he made a mistake in reacting, even if it was only human nature. You have to learn – no matter how hard the situation – the best thing is to always walk away. But, as I said, there is something sad about it all.

Jordan Pickford only wanted to be in a place that he knew with his friends and family. It hasn't changed. His circumstances – effectively a job promotion with a move to Everton and becoming England's No 1 – have changed.

Why should he be a target?

Why should any footballer be a target?

It looks very much like we will have an English club in the Champions League final once again this season and I can't wait for this week's quarter-finals.

I've been invited to White Hart Lane to watch Tottenham's clash with Manchester City and that fixture always brings back special memories, given I score a goal against City in 2010 to put Spurs back in the Champions League

City are favorites, or course, but it would be unwise for them to underestimate Tottenham.

I've been invited to White Hart Lane to watch Tottenham's clash with Manchester City

I just feel the second leg being in Manchester will prove decisive and I'd expect them to be in the last four against Juventus, who should beat Ajax.

On the other side of the draw, I believe Barcelona will beat Manchester United and Liverpool will take care of Porto.

I think Liverpool are the most likely winners of the competition as Europe transforms that club. The affinity with this tournament just isn't there with Man City – I know, as my mum and half her family are City fans – but that's not the case with Liverpool.

They got close a year ago and I wouldn't be surprised if they go one step better now.

I have been won over by Watford's wow factor

The game I'm most fascinated by this weekend is the FA Cup semi-final between Watford and Wolves.

Regular readers will know how much I admire Nuno Espirito Santo's side and I knew after Stoke played them last July they would have had a good season.

I said as much in the predictions I made last summer but I couldn't gauge Watford.

They have been a hard club for people on the outside to have an affinity for, simply because of the high turnover of managers and players. They don't have household names and you don't see kids coming through.

But through this campaign, they've been superb and credit must be given where it is due. Javi Gracia has done a fantastic job and my mates who support Watford are pinching themselves at how things have gone. Nobody expected them to do so well.

For Watford to get to FA Cup final would be such a huge achievement but, equally, how good would it be for Wolves, in their first year back in the Premier League , to crown it with a trip to a Wembley final?

They were excellent once again when they beat Manchester United on Tuesday and have already won at Wembley this season.

It´s a difficult match to call but it will be a right contest as Wolves and Watford are the best teams outside the top six.

Watford have been superb this season and credit must be given where it is due

MY WEEK

WHO'S CAUGHT MY EYE: Virgil van Dijk

The way the hero Moussa Sissoko up and didn't let him pass to Heung-Min Son was a genuinely amazing piece of defense and the reason Liverpool were able to beat Tottenham last Sunday.

Raheem Sterling and Sergio Aguero have been outstanding but for me Van Dijk looks every inch the Player of the Year.

NEXT UP FOR ME …

The win we were talking about Wolves last week was massive and now we've got to make sure we maintain the momentum.

We go to Bournemouth on Saturday and while we respect them, we've got an opportunity in the next few weeks to get ourselves further away from trouble.

WHAT I'M LISTENING TO …

I've always been a big fan of Miles Kane (below) and I've had the Coup de Grace album on all week. It's been out since last summer but there are so many top tracks on there, such as Too Little Too Late. Love his stuff.

WHAT I'VE BEEN UP TO …

I had appendix surgery last week and that was the reason I was out of the squad for the win over Wolves.

I'm having rehab. The problem came as a surprise but the operation was a success and while any lay-out has its frustrations, I hope I can play again this season.

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d2kvirus · 7 years

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Dickheads of the Month: September 2017

As it seems that there are people who say or do things that are remarkably dickheaded yet somehow people try to make excuses for them or pretend it never happened, here is a collection of some of the dickheaded actions we saw in the month of September 2017 to make sure that they are never forgotten.

First of all we have PewDipShit who used a racial slur to describe another player during a livestream of Playerunknown’s Battlegrounds when there are countless insults he could have used that don’t happen to be words used to discriminate against and demean black people, because the last time I checked calling somebody an asshole doesn’t violate any laws on hate speech. Of course this isn’t the first time in recent months where PewDipShit acting like a 14 year-old edgelord who doesn’t consider the consequences of his actions, as a few months previously he thought the Holocaust was the source for LOLs, and not learning from that he spent months thinking it was clever to make jokes about being a Nazi that just made him look like he was throwing a childish tantrum in slow motion. This also led to a tsunami of PewDipShit’s fanbase raining down upon comments sections across the internet proclaiming his innocence by...saying he’s a nice person, which is not proof of innocence or guilt.

Next we have the dung beetle in human form that is Martin Shkreli, who thought that offering to pay $5000 to the first person who brought him a lock of Hillary Clinton’s hair was a really intelligent thing to do, in doing so violating the bail conditions he was under having been charged with fraud and sent to jail as a result. Sadly this led to far too many fans of conspiracy theories and false equivalencies mouthing off on social media about how he was silenced for threatening Hillary, as opposed to violating his bail conditions which tends to be a thing that gets people sent to jail.

Then there’s the front-runner to the Tory leadership gig when that becomes available much sooner than August 2019 no matter what the Dire Leader thinks, Jacob Rees-Mogg who said he was morally opposed to gay marriage and abortion under any circumstances, including victims of rape - which funnily enough didn’t lead to him being hounded for several days by the usual suspects in the British media, even though less than six months previously then-Lib Dem leader Tim Farron was both hounded and subjected to lurid headlines based solely on speculation as he didn’t confirm or deny his position on gay marriage - and a few weeks later he followed that up by saying that it is “uplifting” that a large number of people in this country have to use food banks, all of which he justified by hoisting his Catholic faith as a shield - which led to various charities saying his views are as unchristian as him forgetting that all life is sacred when he voted in favour of military action.

Keeping with the theme of Tory MPs, we also had James Cleverly justify all manner of wisecracks about his name when he made a direct comparison between people who believe that public sector workers deserve a 2% pay increase with mass murdering Communist dictatorships. Because there’s a direct comparison between believing public sector workers deserve a 2% pay increase after seven years without one under the Tories and the Stalinist purges, isn’t there?

As a final entry for the Tories, BBC Political Editor Laura Kuenessberg posted a remarkably patronising tweet demanding to know why people were talking about Boris Johnson stating that leaving the EU £350m a week over a year after the EU Referendum where Johnson first used that lie, either because she was completely oblivious to the fact that Johnson repeated the lie in an article for The Spectator in mid-September (which he received a sternly-worded rebuke from the UK Statistics Authority) or she was merely trying to control the political narrative by saying that Boris Johnson lied to the British public but we should all move on as it was in the summer of 2016?

On the subject of Boris Johnson, he and Liam Fox hosting a launch event for a Hard Britait think tank not only directly contradicted government policy and oh-so-conveniently means the narrative ahead of the Tory conference will be about Boris rather than the party or their leader, but by hosting the event on state property was in direct violation of the Ministerial Code.

Back to Kuenessberg and how The New Statesman responded to The Canary breaking the story that the BBC’s Political Editor was being advertised as an invited speaker at an event during the Tory conference (a quite obvious conflict of interest) by accusing The Canary of running a “sexist hate campaign” against her instead of addressing anything in the actual article.

Another journalist to make a complete arse of themselves was VentureBeat journalist Dean Takahashi for the utterly painful 26-minute video where he failed to get to grips with the tutorial level of Cuphead due to his utter failure to actually bother to read the numerous tips the game’s tutorial was giving him, which led to people unearthing a review he gave to the original Mass Effect back in 2007 where he was critical of the game because he never figured out how to allocate skill points after levelling up - somehow missing the fact that, as he got reasonably far into the game in spite of failing to level up a single skill (which also says he never once used the character menu) the game was doing everything in its power to try and help him despite his obvious incompetence.

Following this we have far too many people who said that Jennifer Lawrence said that Donald Trump causes hurricanes, somehow all of them failing to see that they had typed a sentence that the National Enquirer would think was utterly moronic, while failing to take into account the obvious fact that she never did. I guess them posting a variation on “Fox News told me to think that Jennifer Lawrence thinks that Donald Trump causes hurricanes” takes too much effort, sort of like fact-checking is too much effort for an increasing number of easily-led people.

Technically not a new piece of dickheadedness but a repeat of his dickheadedness from late August, but James Cameron decided to repeat his baffling claims that this year’s Wonder Woman is not breaking ground for depiction of women in Hollywood because Gal Gadot is a former Miss Israel. Or something. Of course making a handful of Avatar sequels nobody asked for is the most groundbreaking thing Hollywood has ever done...

The upcoming film about Boston bombing survivor Jeff Bauman, Stronger, was criticised by the Ruderman Family Foundation for casting Jake Gyllenhaal in the lead role instead of an amputee actor, having previously been critical of Me Before You casting Sam Claflin instead of a actor with paralysis and Blind for casting Alec Baldwin instead of a blind actor, none of which make them look like they’re pestering for attention and making complete asses of themselves.

After this we have Campo Santo, the devs behind Firewatch who decided to abuse Youtube’s DMCA system, but not to try and silence criticism like the Digital Homicides and Dentola Studios of the world, but because they decided that they wanted to abuse the system to teach PewDipShit a lesson - in doing so letting the obnoxious bellend off the hook as half of the coverage took aim at Camp Santo instead, which proves how stupid their decision was.

Sticking with game developers we have Bethesda Softworks after it took all of five minutes before people realised the Bethesda Creator’s Club was nothing more than paid mods, several of these mods being skins for Fallout 4 that had previously been available for free - and the free mods were quite often much better than those Bethesda were selling.

This is nothing compared to Warner Bros Interactive, though, who were already on shaky ground after shoving microtransactions into Middle Earth: Shadow of War, but they went so much further when it emerged that some that a piece of the game’s DLC which was promoted as raising money for cancer charities in tribute to one of the game’s dev team who died of cancer during the game’s production had some very small print, namely that not a penny of the DLC’s price would go to charity if it was bought in a select few US states - or any other country on earth.

Stepping way from gaming, there was also far too many pundits and columnists who claimed that it was “harsh” that Sadio Mane got a straight red card for his studs-up, head height challenge on Man City keeper Ederson that left Ederson's face looking remarkably like somebody came running at him at full speed and kicked him directly in the face with a set of football studs - a challenge which the Laws of the Game clearly state is a sending-off for at least two reasons, with no clauses hidden away saying those rules don’t apply to Liverpool players like they do to players from any other club.

Then we have the charming incident where Chelsea fans celebrated record signing Alvaro Morata scoring against Leicester by regaling him with an anti-semitic song aimed at Tottenham fans - which led to the Daily Mail’s Martin Samuel writing a column which was a blatant example of victim blaming as he repeated the idiot logic that it’s Spurs fans’ fault that fans of Chelsea and West Ham think anti-semitism is an acceptable basis for so many of their chants. It’s probably worth noting that Samuel is a West Ham fan, isn’t it?

And, of course, there’s Donald Trump. Where to start on that one?

#dickheads of the month

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