#too lazy to grab album art for this sorry

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I'm Setting Off, But Not Without My Muse

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 7

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

4.8k words

Warnings: Language, heavy kissing, pining

Keeley lounged on Roy’s couch, looking comfortable and familiar with crossed her legs and messy hair. She smiled when Roy handed her the soda he’d brought from the kitchen, throwing Roy back to all those lazy days they’d spent together on that couch, days of kisses and laughter and love. Days he missed.

“My sister should be here soon,” he murmured as he threw himself down on the couch beside Keeley. “Remind me what you and Phoebe are doing again?” He resisted the urge to grab her hand or press his palm to her thigh, the way he used to.

Ignoring or missing Roy’s pining, Keeley grinned and sipped her soda. “We’re going to a museum,” she explained slowly. “And we’re going to take turns closing our eyes and trying to draw the art we see. Whoever does the best wins, and loser pays for lunch.”

“Where the fuck did Phoebe get money from?” Roy snorted.

Keeley blinked at him, as if it was obvious. “You, you dolt. Girl’s a little millionaire with all your swearing.”

The sound of knocking at his door stopped Roy from retorting; not that he had a defense, to be fair. His wallet was constantly empty thanks to Pheobe. Maybe the knock at the door saved him from admitting Keeley was right, he thought to himself as he opened it.

Those familiar eyes sparkled at him. “Hey, Roy.” She stepped inside, looking comfortable in a simple sweater and jeans. The moment she saw Keeley on the couch, it was like a switch flipped. Her hand was on Roy’s hip, tugging him to herself so she could plant a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Missed you,” she hummed.

Roy froze. Even after all this time, all the kisses, he still had moments where her seemingly easy affection caught him off-guard, rendering him frozen like a statue. This was definitely one of those moments, with his ex-girlfriend on his couch watching with quirked eyebrows and amused eyes.

Just as suddenly, she stepped back and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Shit,” she chuckled awkwardly, her eyes focusing on Keeley again. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I don’t have to do that in front of you.” She adjusted Roy’s shirt where she’d grabbed him. “My bad, Kent.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Keeley teased, shooting them a wink. “Kiss him all you want. I doubt he’d complain too much.”

“Keeley-” Roy started to growl, wondering if both women could spot his heavy blush and the way his fists clenched at his side.

But Keeley wasn’t focused on that. Instead, she patted the spot next to her, urging the popstar to sit beside her. “So, have you two planned your holiday yet? I know Lanie’s been on your ass about it.”

With a glance at Roy, the singer settled by Keeley, noticeably stiff compared to the former model. “Uh, Roy found some spot in this little lakeside town,” she said quietly. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her sound so timid. What the fuck had her so shy? “That’s why I’m here,” she added quickly, eyes on Keeley. “So we can finish planning everything.”

“That sounds lovely,” Keeley said in a soothing voice, almost as though she was trying to comfort the singer. “I think you and Roy-o are going to have a great time.” She shot Roy another wink. “Sounds very romantic.”

Roy cleared his throat. “I think it’ll be a great writing spot,” he said. “She can focus on the album, I’ll get some reading done.”

There was that smile, that small grin that made Roy soften. “I’m excited,” she admitted to Keeley, although her eyes were still on Roy. “If nothing else, it’s nice to get away before the tour begins. Because now, with this album, I’m not going to get to relax much before it starts. At least I’ll get to relax a little on this trip.”

“Or not relax,” Keeley hummed with a wink.

Roy didn’t know what he hated more: Keeley implying he’d be interested in anyone other than her, or feeling embarrassed in front of his fake girlfriend. Probably the latter, he realized when he saw the alarmed look that appeared on that pretty face. Now she was going to spend their little getaway worried that Roy was going to make some sort of move on her, he panicked with silent groan.

Fucking Keeley.

~

“Shit, sunshine, what’s in this one? Bricks?”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the admittedly heavy backpack out of Roy’s hands. “Old notebooks,” I corrected. “I’ve gotta dig through these things to find some usable lyrics, remember?”

Roy’s little grunt was the only answer I got. He loaded my suitcase into his giant black car before taking back the backpack and tossing it inside. He squinted at my empty hands for a moment before gazing back at my house. “I made sure the place was pet-friendly, you know.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, cocking my head. “What, did Keeley make you rent a dog for our vacation? Make us look all domestic?”

“No,” he huffed, obviously fighting the growing curve in his mouth. “For Sydney. I figured you’d be bringing her along.”

My heart melted as I blinked at Roy. I knew he liked my cat- and she, amazingly enough, liked him in return- but I wouldn’t have expected him to include her in our plans. Most of my real boyfriends tolerated Syd well enough, choosing to mostly engage in mutual indifference. Roy, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely like having Sydney curled up in his lap during Scrabble games and was keen to feed her if he woke up before me.

Stupid thing better not get too attached, I thought bitterly as I mumbled something about going to pack Sydney’s things really quickly. He won’t be around forever.

As I gathered some cat food and toys and urged Sydney into her travel carrier, I wondered if I was worried about Sydney or myself. With Roy’s help, I packed the cat and her things into his car, reminding myself all the while that this was a business trip of sorts. We were going for publicity, I scolded myself as I buckled into the passenger seat. This was for work.

My reminders were interrupted when Roy turned on his car and my own voice suddenly filled the vehicle.

The tips of Roy’s ears were red as he quickly turned off the car stereo. “Phoebe,” he mumbled simply. “She always turns it up way too fucking loud.”

I fought the smile that was desperately trying to break through. “Sure, Kent,” I chuckled. “You weren’t blasting my song on your way to pick me up. You absolutely didn’t sing every word at the top of your lungs. Totally believe you.”

Damn, why did he have to wear bashfulness so well? “Fuck off, sunshine.”

Slouching in my seat and defeated by the smile on my face, I turned to him. “What is your favorite song by me? If you don’t mind me asking.”

His fingers tapped the steering wheel as he turned off my street, off on our little adventure. “D’you think I have a favorite?”

“Of course you do,” I scoffed. “I saw the way you sang Our Song. You’re a bigger fan than you let on, Kent.”

“Touche.” He bobbled his head as he stared straight ahead. “You’ve got some really good songs. Nothing New was phenomenal. I’ve listened to it a few times and it just leaves me fucking breathless.” A frown crossed his face. “But it might be Happiness,” he said quietly.

My eyes traced his profile. “Why that one?”

He sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s mature,” he said slowly. “Accepting the end of this relationship, acknowledging the good and bad of it all, hoping for forgiveness that goes both ways.” He sighed. “I’ve got to admit, I used to think you were just… fluff. I mean, Pheebs always likes your sugary pop stuff, that’s what’s on the radio. But after Nothing New-” He shook his head. “I went and listened to some of your other things, and fuck, you’re a great songwriter.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “And I liked the Gatsby references, sunshine.”

I tried to tell myself that my warm cheeks were the result of feeling humbled by kind praise, not feeling flustered because Roy was telling me he liked my song. “Thanks,” I murmured. I picked at the hem of my shirt. “It was kind of a hard song to write. Emotionally, I mean. But it felt really good once I’d finished recording it.”

“I bet,” was all he said.

The rest of the drive was calmly quiet. I rested my head against the window, watching the city fade away and become green, green, and more green. Roy didn’t say much, other than ask how Sydney and I were doing. After a while, I took out a notebook and began jotting down some words, words that just kind of flowered onto the page before I could even really comprehend what they were saying.

Roy eyed me curiously as I scribbled. “Lyrics?” he asked simply.

I nodded, scribbling down the last couple of words. “Just a few lines,” I admitted. “Who knows if it’ll become anything. But you never know, so I’ve gotta write everything down. Sometimes the silliest little lines can become something special.”

“Read it to me.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the words I’d jotted down. “It’s just a couple little scribbles-”

“Come on, sunshine.”

Unable to say no to his gentle tone, I cleared by throat and slowly read, “Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark… show me the places where the others gave you scars… Now this is an open-shut case, I guess I should’ve known by the look on your face… Every bait-and-switch was a work of art.”

When I dared to look at Roy, he wore a large, infectious grin. “What the fuck,” he chuckled, smacking the steering wheel. “What kind of a mind d’you got in that pretty little head? You just came up with that right now? Out of fucking nowhere?” He let out a sharp breath. “Fucking amazing.”

His words were overwhelming, drawing a deep blush to my cheeks. He sounded so real, so genuine as he praised the couple of lines I’d jotted down. I decided to believe he really meant it. Friends could gush over each other like that- right?

I also decided to ignore him calling me pretty.

“Thanks, Kent,” I murmured, slouching into my seat. “Dunno what it’ll become but…”

“Well, whatever it is,” he said, “it’ll be fucking great.”

He knew he’d guessed right when he saw the smile on her face at the sight of the instrument. She turned to him, eyebrows raised and cat in hand.

~

It was a nice house. Bright and airy with a gorgeous view of a lake, a couple of cozy bedrooms, a sweet little kitchen, and, most importantly, an inviting sitting room with a piano. As soon as Roy saw a photo of the instrument online, he booked the house, figuring it would be a perfect spot for some songwriting.

“There’s a piano,” she said simply.

Roy nodded, warmth in his chest as he took in her pleased reaction. “Figured between that and your guitar, you’d be all set,” he explained. “Is it fine? The piano? I didn’t know what kind you like, or if this one’s any good.” He was blabbering now, suddenly anxious that he’d done just the wrong thing.

But she shook her head, letting Sydney go so she could approach the little bench. She sat and began plucking at the keys, creating a simple little melody that Roy felt like he knew. She glanced at him, the music never stopping. “You ever play?”

“No,” Roy scoffed. “Only thing I’ve ever played is football.” Not knowing what came over him, he strolled over and sat beside her, watching her fingers move with ease over the ivory. “Is this one of your songs?”

She nodded and opened her mouth, letting her sweet voice fill the house.

Roy nodded along. He’d heard this one before; it always sounded so childish when he heard it over the speakers, and half the time he skipped right over it, ignoring Phoebe’s complaints about ever skipping her songs. But maybe it was hearing the authoress in person, or maybe it was how down-to-earth it sounded like this, or maybe it was the way the setting sun was hitting her pretty face, whatever it was, Roy thought the song sounded nothing short of charming.

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

"Wanna hang out?"

Yeah, sounds like fun

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend

She turned to him, still playing, and nodded to the keys. “You try.”

“Fuck no, I-”

All it took was her raising her eyebrows expectantly, and Roy found his fingers touching the cool keys. She paused, freezing her fingers and nodding down at them.

“Set your fingers like this,” she instructed. When Roy had taken the same position, she looked at his face. “Just copy my movements.”

She moved her fingers slowly, delicately, and Roy did his best to mirror them. He hit some wrong keys, and he was so stilted and awkward, but he created something resembling music. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders started to dissipate, all the embarrassment in his head gone, making room in his brain for the simple melody they created together. A quiet, almost domestic bliss settled over the two of them, the kind of quiet that didn’t need a single word. He tried to remember the last time he felt such a calmness; probably with Keeley. He didn’t realize how much he missed it, just the pleasure of someone’s company.

And Roy definitely wasn’t complaining about the glowing little smiles she offered him.

It was nice to have a friend, indeed.

~

It was the sun, I told myself as I forced my eyes back to my notebook. I was suddenly feeling warm because I was lying out in the sun. That had to be it.

~

The sun felt good on my face, warm and inviting. I was supposed to be diving through an old notebook and searching for usable lyrics, but Roy kept distracting me. Not on purpose, of course. He just stretched out on our picnic blanket, eyes on the book he’d brought along, pausing only to take a sip of beer or grab a piece of fruit to pop into his mouth. But I couldn’t stop glancing over at him. He looked so incredibly relaxed, kind of like he had the night of his championship celebration, and he had this tiny grin on his face as he read, as if he was amused by the book in his hands. And then I noticed his hands, how strong and firm they looked holding the book open. And today he’d opted to wear shorts, showing off muscular legs I rarely got to see.

“Alright there?”

That gruff voice had me snapping back to reality. “Fine,” I choked out, shaking away thoughts that I really shouldn’t have been having. “How’s your book?”

Roy shrugged and flipped through the pages. “It’s good. I’ve read it before, but it’s nice to revisit?” He raised an eyebrow. “Like you and Gatsby, I guess.”

My eyes scanned the cover I hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “A Wrinkle in Time,” I read aloud. “I’ve heard that’s a good one.”

“You could borrow it sometime. If you want.” Roy grinned. “When you’re not being pressured to write an entire album of love song for a man you’re not really in love with.” He shook his head, missing way I squirmed at the ‘L’ word. “Freaking Keeley, making you do this. You’re a trooper for saying yes, you know that, sunshine?”

“It’s fine,” I assured him with a little chuckle. “Who doesn’t love a challenge?” I paused, picking at the grass at the edge of the blanket. “Speaking of Keeley…” I let out a little breath, suddenly even warmer in the face. “She didn’t, er, send you any messages recently, did she?”

Something in Roy’s face fell for a flicker of a moment before relaxing again. He quickly shook his head. “No. Did she send you something?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes, pretending my heart wasn’t slamming in my chest. “She says we’re both way too hot to be so… chaste when we’re out together.” I offered an awkward grimace. “She wants us to, like, get caught being hot and heavy.”

The choking sound sputtering out of Roy’s mouth had my face burning even worse than it already was. “Oh.” He blinked a few times, the gears in his head almost visibly turning. “Do you… want to make out then?”

Despite the absolute mortification I was feeling, I couldn’t help laughing at his words. “Jeez, Roy, that’s so high school of you,” I managed between chuckles.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he finally joined me in laughter. “Fuck me, that was terrible, wasn’t it?” He shook his head, offering a sheepish grin. “But I mean…” His eyes shifted somewhere over my shoulder. “That papps Keeley tipped off is over there somewhere. Probably has a clear view of us.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

The laughter left my lungs as I looked into those brown eyes, just as unsure as I suddenly felt. This shouldn’t be difficult; we’d been kissing each other for a couple of months now. And I’d filmed plenty of kissing scenes for music videos, I reminded myself. Steamy ones, even. Surely, I could manage to get a little heavy with my supposed boyfriend, couldn’t I?

“Anything for the job,” I joked, suddenly hating the way that had seemed to become our motto.

“For the job,” Roy echoed with a smirk.

Without warning, he grabbed my hips and tugged me onto his lap. A surprised squeal slipped past my lips, prompting a chuckle to rumble in his chest. His hands skittered up and down my back as he smiled up at me.

“This alright?” he hummed. His eyes were on my mouth.

I managed to nod as I rested my hands on his shoulders. “Sure.” I hoped my voice was casual and unbothered.

“Good.”

His lips felt so comfortable against mine, warm and familiar now. I let myself settle onto his lap and closed my eyes, focusing on being as natural as possible. Roy pulled me close, chest to chest, until I felt his heartbeat against my body; he could probably feel mine slamming against my ribs. He tasted like the beer and fruit he’d been enjoying all afternoon, a beautiful, summery combination I wanted to taste forever. Without thinking, I gave a gentle grind against his lap. His grip tightened on me as a curious little hum vibrated against my mouth.

My body was buzzing, on fire, drunk on Roy’s mouth and hands and body. While the little voices in the back of my mind kept reminding me this was an act, this was all pretend, the rest of my mind was screaming Roy’s name, wanting to take him back to the house and make this real.

Taking him back to the house felt like an especially good idea when his hands began to slide down my back, lower and lower.

“Should I…?” he rasped against my lips.

I nodded, refusing to open my eyes and break the spell I was under. “Probably.”

Roy’s hands cupped my ass tentatively, as if he was waiting for me to snap at him; he was probably remembering the night we “met”, where I warned him about his hand placement. Oh, how far we’d come since that night of snarking at each other and trying not to roll our eyes. Trying to assure him he was fine, I pressed down against him again, swallowing back my reflexive groan when I felt the beginning of a bulge against my increasingly needy parts.

Apparently he understood the permission I was giving him, because Roy’s grip on my ass tightened, fingers digging into the material of my jeans. I tried to remember the last time I’d been kissed like this- in public no less. It felt like something was waking up inside me. No, it wasn’t arousal from the kiss, from Roy’s hands on my body like he wanted me. It was a feeling that was settling deep in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that was making itself right at home as a melody and words began to bloom in my mind.

Dammit, it might be love.

~

~

For the last few decades, Roy Kent had spent plenty of time around impressive people. Politicians and rich people who made him want to barf. Actresses and models that looked good on his arm and in his bed. And, of course, some of the most famous, talented athletes in history, athletes he was proud to play against and stand beside. Hell, he was a legend in his own right, something he seemed to conveniently forget.

But he couldn’t help being impressed watching an artist at work, something he hadn’t had the opportunity to witness before now. He was a little nervous for her heading into this holiday, wondering if she’d be able to work under so much pressure. But once they arrived, it was like a dam had broken. She was constantly in her notebooks, scribbling furiously and scrambling through old pages. Or she was strumming away at her guitar or picking at the piano, creating melodies that Roy found himself humming as he relaxed around the house.

She didn’t play much for him, just little snippets here and there that she quickly critiqued and went back to work on. Still, he kept asking her to play him something; but they weren’t ready she insisted. Roy didn’t care; he found himself craving pretty tunes and a prettier voice.

A couple days into the trip, he was in the little kitchen, making some dinner while Sydney padded around, meowing up at him and drowning out the twinkling sounds of the piano. He mumbled back to the cat, reminding her that her owner would not be happy if he snuck her a treat without checking first. But the cat kept chattering, so Roy finally threw his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he huffed, unable to believe he was having a conversation with a cat. “Let’s go ask your mum if you can have a bit of fucking carrot.” He scooped up Sydney and let her climb onto his shoulders- a spot he had quickly realized she liked- and made his way into the sitting room.

She looked so comfortable in her sweats, her hair up in a sloppy hairstyle. She was so engrossed in her music, she didn’t notice Roy leaning in the doorway, a ghost of a smile on his face as he listened to her quietly sing.

Sydney’s little meow caught her attention. She stopped playing and looked up at the duo in the doorway, eyes a little wide. “Oh, hey,” she chuckled, smoothing down her wild hair. “Sorry, too loud?”

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Not at all,” Roy assured her, reaching up to scratch Sydney behind the ear. Damn cat, interrupting his private concert. “That’s really fucking nice. You should keep going. I’d love to hear it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips when she saw the earnest way Roy was looking at her. “Fine. But you stay over there. I want to pretend you guys aren’t here, alright?”

Roy did as he was told, staying in the doorway as she picked up that sweet little melody and focused her eyes on the notebook in front of her, the words almost indiscernible; she seemed to be able to read the rushed writing with ease.

She took a deep breath and snuck a glance at Roy before continuing to the bridge- her strength as a songwriter, Roy recalled from Keeley.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Her smile grew as she went on, looking less like a glamorous popstar and more like a girl, alone in her room, playing with music as if it was a toy, creating something out of nothing but emotions. It was nothing short of magical, Roy admitted to himself. This album was going to be something special, he realized.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

And he’d have to take credit for being its muse.

She looked straight at Roy, not hiding that radiant smile as she sang-

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

She played a sweet little outro, eyes still on Roy. Once finished, she offered him a tiny shrug, eyes bright with curiosity. “What d’you think?”

Roy’s in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

You’re in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Fuck,” Roy laughed, finally walking over to sit down next to her, letting Sydney slip down into his arms. “That was lovely. Really lovely.” Before he could stop himself, the question he dreaded asking blurted out of his mouth. “Who’s it about?”

He felt so sure he’d stepped in it when her eyes flickered down, away from his gaze, before looking at him again. “Well, when I originally started writing this one, it was about my mom,” she started slowly. “I had been thinking about this time my parents visited, and we went to Ireland together. It was amazing, getting to show them places they never thought they’d visit.” She shook her head, as if the memories of that trip were fluttering through her mind. Then her eyes found his again. “But it’s also… well, about you, Kent.”

Roy nearly dropped the cat. “Me?” he asked incredulously. “Fuck d’you mean me?”

She chuckled awkwardly, rolling her eyes a little. “What you said about my mind, when I was writing in the car,” she explained. “And how you’ve been just, I dunno, really sweet about everything I’ve been working on here. And, I don’t know, you’ve become a really good friend.” She reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving a small squeeze. “So I guess this song’s about the people who make me feel safe, happy, despite all the idiots in this world.” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that make sense?”

His heart felt like it stopped dead in his chest. It was such a candid, honest answer- and not the one he expected. He knew she’d have to change lyrics to fit him before finalizing songs, but he didn’t think she’d write about him. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever been so… flattered? Sure. Flattery. That was the warm feeling nuzzling in his chest, the same warm feeling that was spreading to his cheeks as she blinked at him, waiting for him to say something, probably to assure her that he liked being her muse.

“Oh,” was all that came out of his stupid mouth. “Wow.”

He saw it. He had seen it when he brushed her off the first time she talked to him about The Great Gatsby. He saw it when he walked brusquely out of the room when she first played Nothing New for him in her living room. And he was pretty sure he saw it when he ignored her at the Greyhound’s celebration to pay attention to Keeley.

It was some mix of disappointment and hurt. Something that made Roy wish he was capable of being someone other than himself.

Still, she put on that tiny, shy smile and removed her hand from Roy’s leg. “Yeah,” she chuckled. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting your cooking.” She cleared her throat and stood, scooping Sydney out of his arms. “I better go feed her.” Not quite looking at Roy, she walked out, leaving him all alone at the silent piano.

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[royal-they]

hi so i kinda happened to fall in love with your art.....and i wanted to ask a few things!!! (if its ok!)

uhmm first of all how long did it take you to get that art style and perfection it etc etc?

also do you have any tips for anatomy? not big complex full body anatomy, just like...idrk honestly, some tips related to anatomy or hands or just the body that helped/help you?

and uh yeah if you just have any general tips on whatever to improve my art/art style i'll take litterally anything 😭

again, i love your art, i love what you make! keep doing what you do, you're awesome!!!! sending love and support <3

ah!! tysm <333!! thats so cool to hear!!!!!!!!!/gen

ive been drawing forever honestly. i've always been really into it. im fifteen so thatd be like 12 years. and obviously i wasnt always studying it super seriously or anything. idk. my art isnt perfect by any means. i just dont really post the shitty pieces lmao. i struggle with sm stuff and will be continuing to study probably till the day i cant hold a pencil anymore lol. (i draw too much, my hand hurts ;w;) its a never ending process and honestly thats why i love it sm.

as for anatomy i think the main thing to keep in mind is that anatomy and just drawing people in general is really hard. i heard this in this old video about how pixar used to do 3d animation is that the reason they didnt do animations of humans for so long is because we ourselves have very specefic ideas of what a human looks like. i think this also applies to art. which is a really long way of saying, trust the process.

i use photos personally! you can find a lot on pinterest but there are a couple things id keep in mind when it comes to photos people edit their bodies sometimes so their proportions so be careful, it will defeat the purpose of the study if the bodies inaccurate.

idk here are some that might be good for starting off. dancers and people like that are super helpful. remember to not to focus too much on the lines but more copying down the shapes,

for hands i would just look at your own hands and try to capture them quickly. i say quickly mainly bc i shake a lot lmao, maybe youre different. or you could just be smart and take a picture of your hand but im very lazy and dont like getting up to grab my phone.

for art style id just save stuff that inspire you. could be animations, comics, album covers, cool photos, just stuff that gives you like vibes. literally ANYTHING.

like, omg this is making me think of a cool idea rn!! save it! even if you cant execute it now you can always execute it in the future when your skills are more developed :)

style studies are also helpful! try copying art you like, seeing different peoples techniques however some things to keep in mind with this are

you might accidently copy down an artists mistakes or bad habits without realizing it so try to have some variety in your artists

dont post the art. some people are okay with tracing but the vast majority of artists dont like it and it makes them uncomfortable. so id just like keep it in your sketchbook or whatever :) better safe than sorry.

anyway ah this is so longgggg! sry im so bad at being concise lol. theres probably a lot of youtube videos that could help you with this stuff if you want more explanation. the channel ive been watching a lot in since this summer is sketches of shay. she makes a variety of stuff but her art studies and resources are also very helpful :)

Sketches of Shay - YouTube

[aemoglobin]

Alien- Tokio Hotel, ‘Humanoid’ (2009)

[lesbiancarat]

Haha its fine! Im book anon for a reason so take all the time you need! Before I start, I wanna apologize for the possible asks you got about the merch and hybe in general. I didn't intend to cause stress and need to be careful bdjahdsj so slap me with a fish!

Onto the ask! But agreed, I mean before the big kpop boom we saw, this was very common. Build a decent fanbase and then move to Japan or China. (Of course sometimes you see INSTANT movement in other countries but that depends on the company and such but you know what I mean) but since we do have the more global kpop era, we may see more companies do America which isn't a bad thing. It makes sense buisness wise so they will jump on it after debut or something. Thus I don't see it a bad thing for kpop groups to promote in America because hey, if in Korea they do sell western artist music who also tour there, kpop groups can also do the same ya know?

Now onto the hybe comment, I will try not to speak too much on it so I will try to summarize. I think my theory is due with merch from their main artist, they think maybe it could work with svt which maybe could but svt has a different fanbase so throwing on random merch won't make fans really want to buy (not saying some won't which kudos to you! As a fan you are allowed to consume what you please except not be a bad apple about it) so thus like the infamous water bottles which was done for bts, they thought why not do it for svt because bts fans sold it out apparently for a 2nd wave of it being sold again. (Which to this day idk why someone in the hybe team thought this was smart. Like...this is just in bad taste imo) I do wanna agree that it appears that hybe doesn't seem to have a proper art team for svt because while sometimes wild, I do know for their main artist they do have thoughtful merch based around say an album concept I recall. Kf course they will make mistakes i.e. the water bottles. I do wish it can improve because even though it is capitalism, I think fans do want decent merch. We have seen interesting ideas like svt making their own magazine and selling it lol. Of course it is hard to please because some fans want subtle merch ideas while others don't mind the vibrant pastel colors we got or some want wild ideas like svt figurines or something. Overall I hope I didn't drag this too much as I just wanted to respond back to you, I agree with many points you said so yeah cx I say let's also wait as this is barely what, a year or even less of svt being under hybe properly. Especially when hybe had its rebranding and expanding so things are being changed, I know fans are worried about this which is valid but let's not panic just yet. Let's come back in a year to this and see what has improved and what hasn't. (OK but peldis sold the boys rings!? :o since when!? I haven't heard of this actually, when did this happen if I may ask?)

Oof yeah sadly with streaming, many view "oh you don't stream it means you aren't a fan" when isn't the case (which is why I personally don't like when certain companies also do "listening parties" which seems a bit ???) I do remember this popped up big in 2017 but many fans called it out so it quiet down a bit. Like we didn't see it so often where fans were causing problems over it so idk why this returned nor what the cause of it was.

But thank you!! It really was a nice closing chapter, I think when I have personal stuff settled I will try maybe get a new bunny? And oohh congrats on the album! (Note to hybe or pledis. Please make the us store a more common thing, it makes things so much easier! Am happy it was at your place quick so kudos to the us store. Oohh wonderful choices! I think for many fans anyone or heaven's cloud seems to be the popular picks? For me, I may have to say game boi or heaven's cloud as well! Those songs make me just so happy? Like game boy is just so creative with the way it was made. As a video game nerd, it is perfection. I could make an essay about this song lol and heaven's cloud is just...wow. I feel so at ease with the song, comfortable and soothed. Like you are on a cloud lol. Also that is totally fine! Rtl was a grower for me (I blame the mv, it didn't do the song jusitice) but it is a bop and can't stop humming the chorus at random moments. Overall a great summer album. Just imagine any of these songs performed live ndjansns

lol don't feel too bad about it! honestly they weren't that bad + i can always delete asks if i really don't want to answer them, i just always get a bit paranoid that things will get out of hand so i may end up getting more serious in those situations OTL

and yeah i agree! i don't think it's a bad thing for groups to promote in the US, as you said, it's similar to groups expanding their fanbase by promoting in china or Japan or other asian counties, it makes sense from a business standpoint and there's nothing wrong with promoting in different countries. i just wish that some kpop stans understood that western and/or global popularity is a bonus and not a requirement for success. while they do have a global appeal, at the end of the day kpop's main audience is korea, and groups that achieve popularity in Korea have already achieved what they set out to do. but there's unfortunately a decent chunk of international fans that prioritize western popularity over anything and can't fathom that a group can be successful without being popular in the US. or they just talk as if their groups western achievements are more valuable than their Korean ones and to me that starts to look like xenophobia... (sorry if I'm repeating anything i said before in regards to this, i feel like i am but I'm too lazy to go back and check OTL)

since you sent this ask hybe released the caratland merch which was actually really nice, and today they also announced that there will be birthday merch for cheol (and presumably all members from here on out). we don't know what the bday merch is yet but some carats are already a bit miffed that hybe is even thinking to capitalize off the boys' birthdays... i bring both of these up bc i feel like the caratland merch proves your point that hybe is capable of designing good and thoughtful merch, and honestly this does reassure me a bit. but on the other hand them trying to capitalize off the boys' birthdays also proves that they still don't fully understand carats wants and priorities as a fanbase. which, if the future of seventeens merch is gonna be quality merch with some shitty cash grabs in between, i can live with that. I'm not gonna like the shitty cash grabs and i think it would be in our best interest as a fandom to not go crazy buying those shitty cash grabs, because if we don't then hybe will hopefully stop wasting their time and put more effort into /quality/. but if we get quality merch for important events like concerts and fanmeetings, i can live with it. as you said too, it can take time for these things to change, and we should all recognize that. but at the same time merch specifically is market driven, so i don't think it's a bad thing if people like @ hybe on twt about any bad merch that comes out in order to drive that change dhfkfj

but also on a maybe more fun note in regards to the merch... with some carats being upset about the bday merch i was thinking about what hybe could do for merch instead that would fill the niche of being at intervals throughout the year that could still be limited time drops but that carats wouldn't be mad at them capitalizing on and then i was like duh! they could literally just make merch off of going seventeen! honestly I'm surprised they haven't yet. maybe not merch for every episode, but they could have a line of permanent gose merch w a basic logo or something and then release limited time merch themed around some of the more popular episodes at various points during the year. I'm actually kind of obsessed with this idea now and for once I'm like hybe/pledis please capitalize off of this!! dhfkgjg

they never actually sold them, but for seventeens 3rd anniversary, pledis planned to sell replicas of seventeens rings. after it was announced carats were understandably upset since the boys worked so hard for those. luckily pledis heard carats concerns and put out an apology and didn't manufacture them in the end. I'm glad that at least they listened to carats even though it would have been better if they had never considered the idea in the first place :(

oh yeah listening parties are definitely just another marketing technique to boost streams. i think like with a lot of marketing techniques, it just depends on the execution. imo if they're done well it can be a good way for fans to connect while listening to an artists music, which is mutually beneficial for the company, but i can totally see a situation where companies get greedy and push it too hard. i don't know anything about what happened with them back in the day, but if you're curious why SVT had listening parties leading up to your choice, they were set up by UMG, the American distributor that SVT worked with for this cb. in this case the listening parties weren't just for boosting streams, but also likely for UMG to gauge interest. SVT isn't officially signed to a US label yet, but UMG's data from the listening parties could be used to show US labels whether or not there's enough interest for them to be signed. which if that happens we'd almost definitely see a more permanent US shop!

ahh yes, once you're ready I'm sure it would be great to have another bunny companion 🥺

yes! heavens cloud and gam3 bo1 are both such feel good songs! my sister actually added heavens cloud to their Spotify after i made them listen to the album in the car dhfkf it's now one of 6 kpop songs they have saved (4 of which are SVT... my influence 💅 DHFJFH) I'm certain we'll see some of the songs from your choice at caratland this year, hopefully it's all of them but I'd especially like to see heavens cloud and wave 👀 I'm also still crossing my fingers for an i wish live performance bc i can't believe my favorite SVT b-side is one of the TWO tracks they haven't performed live not including the new album (the other one being network love, which i would also like to see live!)

[xoexoxhoe]

Sunrise

Anon Request: “rough then intimate car sex with hongjoong please ❤ tysm I just discovered your blog”

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your support and for reading our content! It means the world 💖Hope you like it!  (◕‿◕✿)

Kim Hongjoong (Ateez) & Y/N

💥Warning: Smut, Angst, and a song book💥

“Baby… where are we going?”

Hongjoong had his hands gripping the steering wheel of his mustang, his knuckles white with frustration.

“You’ll see.” He bluntly stated while lightly placing a hand onto your lap. You fought with him that morning, unable to justify reasons as to why he was always late to things, why he’d never show up to your events. You started adjusting the position of your legs in your seat while enjoying the views passing you by. It was beautiful this time of year in your part of town, and Hongjoong knew the way to your heart would be to take you into the mountains for a nice picnic, despite having fought with you the night before over his new studio schedule. You noticed the path he took you down seemed unfamiliar to you this time around. He drove his car to a secluded lookout. Being that it was sunrise, the haze of the city displayed flecks of pink and orange through distant skyscraper windows. Hongjoong stepped out and opened your door, signaling for you to head into the back seat. While you switched your seat, Hongjoong went to the back to grab a few blankets and whatever else he had in the back. He appeared at your side in no more than two minutes with a pack of your favorite cookies, three blankets, his signature hand painted hydro flask he used during training, and oddly enough, a small black moleskin notebook.

“Open it, baby.” He stated roughly, scooting himself closer to you and bringing a blanket over both of your laps, meticulously tucking your feet beneath it, knowing that you got too cold for comfort if your toes were left exposed.

You covered your eyes with your hands, “Joongie, what is this?”

He gently grabbed your hands from your face and brought them to his lips, warming them with his hot breath. He still looked frustrated, but as each second passed, he seemed to let go of the anger he held onto from the previous night. “It’s an early birthday present. I’ve been working a lot in the studio, but I’ve been writing as well, so… I just wanted to give this to you. It’s an unsung mixtape; if that makes sense.”

You tilted your head, “Wait… there are songs written in this?” he nodded and you felt your cheeks get hot, “Baby, why? This must have taken so long. I thought that those extra hours you took-”

He cut you off with his lips, easing back into his seat for a few seconds, “You know, I work really hard for the both of us,” he began to unbutton your jeans, tracing his fingers along the thin lace thong you wore, “I work hard, because I want to keep you happy; Long nights, hundreds of songs, and the constant dancing,” Hongjoong slid his fingers over the lace and along your folds in rhythm with his voice, speeding up, then slowing towards the end, once again picking up speed when he began another sentence. Your hips raised off of the seat in ecstasy, longing for more than just Hongjoong’s hand to be between your legs.

“Hongjoong,” you whimpered, gripping the blanket next to you.

“You like it when I touch you there?” his fingers now found themselves in you, pushing aside the thong, hitting your g-spot as he applied pressure against the walls of your core.

He pulled out of you quickly, leaving you panting and craving more. You tried to grab his neck to pull him into a kiss, but he gripped your wrist, pulling your hand away and dropping it onto the bulge beneath his pants begging to be set free. He used your hand to palm over his pants, never breaking eye contact with you. “When I have to work, Y/N, I have to work.” he let go of your hand only to slide his own beneath your shirt, squeezing your breasts and rolling your nipples beneath the thin sports bra you wore. “All of this to make you happy, baby.”

Hongjoong pushed you back and undid his jeans, pushing them down to expose his already hard length to you. He sat back in his side of the seat and pat his lap, “Get on.”

Your eyes widened, “Baby-”

“Did I stutter? Ride me.”

You bit your lip, feeling the intensity building up between the both of you as you found yourself straddling Hongjoong, entwining your fingers within his hair and tugging at his roots while easing yourself onto him. A soft ‘fuck’ escaped your lips, but this was only the beginning. Hongjoong grabbed your hips and thrust his own up into you as deep as he could, your cries filled the compact space. He didn’t stop pounding into you, your head falling into his shoulder as he fuck you even harder, your core almost numb. He could feel you climaxing as you began to squeeze him and quiver in his embrace. “You gonna cum for me?” he panted out in a heavy breath to which you nodded frantically, biting his shoulder in both pain and pleasure. You felt his hand push you back till you were supported by the front seat, exposing your folds to him while he continued move in you. Your head tilted back and shot back up when you felt his fingers trail down, teasing your clit with his thumb ever so delicately. The soft touch drove you wild, wishing he would just go for it, but his smirk told you that he wouldn't be doing that anytime soon. He kept edging your orgasm, getting you up as high as he could while thrusting into you, then slowing down, his circular motions against you almost coming to a halt. You bent forward, pulling him into you this time, tearing his shirt off of him and letting it fall to the car floor. Your nails dug into his skin, red marks spreading across his muscular back. He let out a low growl and tugged at your hair, revealing your neck, allowing him to press his lips along your throat.

Hickies were beginning to form and you could feel them, “Joong, stop, not there…”

He kept going, regardless of your waning pleas, “There’s a thing called pointillism, baby. All of these little dots… marks making up a bigger picture,” he held your chin in his palm, staring straight into your eyes and stating in a low voice, “this is just as much my art as that book, and I’m making a fucking masterpiece on you, Y/N.”

The air in the car was thick with each sloppy kiss, you yourself barely being able to get a reliable breath in before having to adjust in Joong’s arms. His pace slowed and you felt your body relax into his. His smooth lips kept pecking at your shoulder as you held a hand to his head, gently combing through his hair as your hips instinctively took over your movements. You sat up straighter, cupping his head in your hands and kissing him, “I’m sorry.”

He laughed against your lips before breaking away, “Honestly,” he ran his hands along your back and down your arms, finally intertwining his hands with yours, “there’s no place I’d rather be right now. A fight won’t tear us apart.”

You smiled, feeling your body tense up again, “I’m close-”

“Say no more.” Hongjoong lifted the sports bra you wore and began to suck on your breast, palming the other and feeling you bounce up and down on him. Your lips parted ever so slightly as he hummed against your skin. You cried out his name, letting yourself become undone all over his lap. He never let go of you as he came as well, bringing your lips to his, your tongues dancing back and forth. He breathed laboriously, satisfied that it was finally over, scanning the fucked out look you had as you sat there sprawled out across of him.

“Baby,” you smiled, bringing yourself up to his face, leaning your forehead against his with the black notebook in hand, “Do you mind singing one of your songs for me?”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and cleared his throat, “Any one?”

You nodded, “I’m sure all are amazing, babe.”

He flipped through the book, analyzing the words written carefully before finally deciding to begin, “Here’s a sample of the chorus from one of the songs for our new album,” he sat up with you still on him, enjoying the feeling of his warmth inside of you, and too lazy to pull out just yet. You laid your head down on his shoulder and closed your eyes, hearing his melodic voice begin, “Let’s leave to a far place, It calls to us, that treasure, Hurry, let’s leave, let’s go find it, Oh every day, every night,”

He continued on with a few more songs, and that’s when you came to the realization that maybe his late nights were something you just had to deal with because, in the end, the product was indescribably beautiful, just like him.

[benvantasopinions-blog]

I Have An Opinion On - Gossip by Sleeping With Sirens (2017) + The “Praise Everything” / Fangirl Mentality First off, I’m sorry the album cover photo is used is low-res. It was literally the only clean, full square version of it I could find and it was tiny. Let me say that I am by no means a die-hard Sleeping With Sirens fan. My first exposure to them was Kellin Quinn’s feature on Pierce The Veil’s “King For A Day”, and I enjoyed Kellin there, so I decided to give his band a few listens. While I have heard songs from every SWS album, to this day I have never given a full listen to any album besides Gossip, and if you were to ask me what my favorite release from them is based solely on what I’ve heard, I would say their 2012 acoustic/soft rock EP “If You Were a Movie, This Would Be Your Soundtrack”. With that being said, I have ZERO problems with a band trying out new sounds and going in different directions, and I will always praise an artist for doing a good job with that. Bands like Paramore and Bring Me The Horizon have both changed drastically from their original sounds, and while they are releasing more accessible music now, the musicality, song/lyric-writing, and overall quality is still good. However, there are bands that want to change their sound, but when they do the end product ends up being a mess due to things like not having enough studio time, too much label interference, intentions of making a cheap cash-grab, or artist misdirection. Some notable examples of this recently include All Time Low with Last Young Renegade, Fall Out Boy with their past 4 albums, Mania being the most recent/horrifying, and Sleeping With Sirens with their most recent album, Gossip. This was originally going to be a full-length review of Gossip, but after giving it a few spins and coming to the conclusion that it is boring as sin (in my opinion), I decided to change things up a little. FANGIRLS AND THE “PRAISE EVERYTHING” MENTALITY After surfing through YouTube reviews and seeing some of the critical backlash this album received by fans, I decided to shorten my review of the album in order to put something alongside it. I have seen some absolutely strange and straight-up delusional defensive arguments about this album, and they inspired me to talk about the “Fangirl Mentality” that bands sometimes achieve. This is a phenomenon in which extreme fans of an artist/art will defend said artist/art with an iron will, deflecting any and all criticisms thrown it’s way. With that said, please understand that this is all a magical thing called an OPINION, and just because my opinion differs wildly from yours, doesn’t mean you have to arm yourself and go to war with me because I don’t enjoy something as much as you do. We would be an extremely boring species if we all enjoyed everything to the same extent as each other. Also, keep in mind that this is not a Sleeping With Sirens problem, this is an artist problem as a whole. I have seen many people try to make reaching arguments about albums that they think are immune to criticism, even about artists that I love. I have seen a fair few people try to defend Avenged Sevenfold’s debut album as the greatest thing they’ve ever released, despite cringe/badly aged lyrics and some songs just being structured horribly, and most of these arguments come down to, “lol it’s heavy af bro”, which is absolutely obnoxious since heavy = / = good. You do not have to defend everything, and to praise absolutely everything an artist does just because you like them is a mindset that leads to artists, and therefore art as a whole, becoming lazy since they know whatever they put out will be adored. If Kellin and crew are proud of Gossip, that is completely fine, and I wish them all the success in the world, but criticism is criticism, and to ignore and blow it off will only hurt the art that is created in the long run. That being said, let me go into my short rundown of Gossip. THE (SHORT) REVIEW Gossip was released on September 22nd, 2017, and within days of it’s release I saw reviews of it on the internet (more specifically, ARTV’s review of it on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXALzUmgIyQ) that blasted it for being an absolute mess. I, being remotely curious, decided to give it a spin since I had not listened to a full SWS album before, and good lord did I regret it. I won’t lie, it starts off surprisingly strong, as the opener title track is pretty good (despite there being some weird effects on Kellin’s vocals in the chorus), and “Empire to Ashes” being an alright song, but when the third track and lead single “Legends” hits, it all goes to shit. I will say that I’m somewhat proud of SWS for having one of their songs chosen to represent America at the 2018 Olympics, but that does not make this song better. “Legends” is one of the infuriating songs I’ve ever heard, as it is a shitty rip-off of an already shitty song. I never liked Fall Out Boy’s “Centuries” to begin with, so I have no clue how I’m supposed to enjoy a less-bombastic yet still scarily similar version of it. All throughout this album are these vocal effects that just confuse me, and for me they genuinely take away from Kellin’s voice, and this album just gets more boring as it meanders along despite some songs on here having some good instrumentation behind them. “Trouble” has this really annoying drone effect the whole song, and then “One Man Army”, “Cheers”, and “Closer” just feel like repetitive punches in the dick, “Closer” especially with this weird, “almost, but not quite country” feel that it has. “Hole in My Heart” is kind of a pickup, I guess, but it’s not enough to like, draw my attention. “I Need to Know” however, does manage to pick itself up enough for me to notice it, but then the penultimate track “The Chase” kinda fizzles it back out. The closing track “War” is literally just there, that’s all I can say about it. It’s not special, it’s not horrifying, it’s literally just a song that exists that you can listen to. I’ve given this whole thing about three or four full listens, one of them being solely for memory purposes as I write this review (SHORT) FINAL THOUGHTS I’ve given this whole thing about three or four full listens, one of them being solely for memory purposes as I write this review, and I’ve ultimately come to the conclusion that Gossip is the absolute worst kind of album. It’s not disgustingly bad, nor is it god-fucking-awful, but it’s definitely not good. It’s boring and bland to the point where it completely kills my interest in it, and I’m amazed that I can even walk away from it still having a song or two memorized in my brain. SCORE - 4/10 BEST/LESS BAD TRACKS - Gossip (seriously, this song is very good), I Need to Know, and I guess Empire to Ashes. WORST TRACKS - Sweet fucking hell, the rest of the album is boring but if I had to pick the worst offenders, they’d be Trouble, Closer, and the nightmare that is Legends.

[noexit-ff]

30.

“It’s cool, Ant will meet you at the airport. How many is there of you?” Placing my box full of watches in my bag “there is four of us, camera guy, sound guy, my manager and me” Yinka said “oh cool, yeah Ant will meet you and then blind fold, you will then you get here, joke. I will see you then” I have so much to do before going to Miami “ok, see you soon Chris” disconnecting the call, my dad tried calling me earlier but I ignored his call. I have shit to do so he can leave me the fuck alone, my phone start ringing in my hand once again. It’s been doing this non-stop since I woke up “mom” pressing my phone to my ear “I am loving my baby’ album so much, how are you feeling?” as long as she ain’t calling me about my dad then we good “yeah mom, I am happy. Seeing the numbers coming through for the second day, I am blessed but with that comes more work. You seen the billboards yet? Robyn and I clothing line? Puma Fenty-Brown? I think that shit is so cool, it just says in Black and white our name and coming soon, I am so excited for this mom” my mom cooed out “the world is watching, the world can’t wait to see too” I am actually hungry, I hope Robyn has made some food “yeah, Robyn and I just need to do a photoshoot then we good. But I think it will be just me on my own” my eyes bulged out realising what I am saying “why is that?” my mom asked “uhm, just because Robyn is not well” making my way down the stairs “tell her I will visit soon and get better” seeing Mel sat at the dining table, just nice “I will, I need to go now. Talk soon” disconnecting the call.

I am blessed my baby is making pancakes “did you pack your things?” Robyn asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek “I placed the things I want, can you do the rest?” Robyn side eyed me and then smiled “I will, I am going to miss you so much” pressing a kiss to her lips “and so will I baby, these pancakes smell nice as hell though” reaching over to steal one “no” she hit my hand away “go and speak to Mel, things happen. It got out of hand, she wants to apologise. She is staying with me while you go” I don’t really want to speak to her “I did so much for Mel and she did me dirty” Robyn sighed out “she did, Adam has been trying to contact me. Jen and Mel have been working hard to help me get out of this, which I am but he is demanding his money back, which won’t happen. The blogs are saying things, how the name fell through when it didn’t. Jen was supposed to come to your album release but she was stuck in a meeting, the record label are coming at her about me. They find me lazy, they are saying I am hiding behind you because I went with you to the release. They won’t be saying that when they find out I am pregnant but I don’t want to be used for money, I know them. I just feel like my name is being dragged through shit right now, you know how it is. I make an album they put money into, they want it back but they can wait” I don’t like to know my wife is stressing about anything “if they want you to make money, if they are so desperate then I will tour and then they can make the money from me” Robyn shook her head “no, it’s too much. I will speak to them on the phone, they need to wait. But one good thing is the clothing line” that is the only good thing.

Sitting down at the dining table, it’s not like Mel to be so quiet “you’ve got bigger” I said breaking the silence “I mean stomach wise” I don’t want to offend a pregnant woman now, I have two in the house “yeah, it’s going so quick” nodding my head, looking down at my hands “I am sorry Chris, that’s my girl and I shouldn’t have got involved but I did. We all learnt from that mistake, Jen and I was speaking and we feel bad. We see you as a friend to us, I know you probably won’t be the same but I am sorry” Robyn placed the plate in front of me “I am not about to hold a grudge, I want to move on from what happened” Mel smiled at me “I met up with Mijo” letting out an oh “we decided to not go court, he will pay and he will see the child. I still think he is doing it to be in the group, he was asking about Rihanna and I didn’t really say much. He told me that you attacked him at the studio” Robyn gasped “what!?” she spat, shifting in the chair “he just got me mad, he said bros before hoes and I got angry, calling my wife that. It’s whatever Robyn” I would punch him if I could, he gets me so angry.

Drinking the last of the OJ “you both haven’t done any baby shopping have you?” Mel questioned, placing my glass down “nothing, I am waiting for Chris to come back and then we will slowly start. Oh yeah Chris, you know when we can. Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Robyn said, I totally forgot that you can do that “erm why not actually, we can really set up that way. I really hope it’s a girl though, I just want a daughter. Just look like you, I can’t wait to feel that love. I just want my daughter to be a daddy’ girl, something I feel my sister lacked. I also want a boy” Robyn stared at me in awe “you’re going to be a great father, I can already tell. Our son or daughter will have the best opportunity and so much love” holding Robyn’ hand “I think Robz will be the strict parent though, it’s going to be let’s go to dad. He will say yes to situations” Mel said, Robyn pulled a face “well I ain’t going to have that child disrespect anyone, I will smack the respect into them” busting out laughing “I will leave that to you” I said shaking my head “Chris, if our son is like you. He is going to think he is spiderman at two, I am not having him playing around and painting the walls, I can already see it and it’s not art” she pointed at me, she knew I was about to say that.

Fixing my snapback on my head “I have packed everything you wanted, even though you going to call me and say where is this and that” Robyn said behind me, fixing my hood on my hoodie “looks like you have become more muscular in that hoodie, I am going to miss your dick” feeling Robyn rest her head on my shoulder “no tears please” hearing a knock at the bedroom door “come in” Robyn mumbled “it’s just me, they are here. I sat them in the living room” Robyn groaned out “I don’t like the bitch” turning around to Robyn “look at my man, he looks so handsome and she is going to be on the whores on tour bus with you to Vegas? Or Miami which one first?” I knew Robyn was being too calm “Vegas first, she is only going Vegas, shit will make me look good overseas” Robyn rolled her eyes “she wants your dick, she is in my home” biting my bottom lip “then why did you say yes?” Mel asked the question I was about to say “because I was ok then, I am not now. Is she dressed up?” Mel shook her head “she is average” if I am going to cheat then I would need to cheat with a girl that is above that “I don’t trust her” Robyn whined out “but you trust me, I said you can come?” Robyn shook her head “this is your time away, I can’t do that” she needs to trust me, it’s wrong that she doesn’t.

Robyn is wearing my sweatshirt and sweatpants, they fit her nicely now “are you ok? I don’t want to leave this house for you to call me crying, I don’t want that” I think it will annoy me so much if she does that “I am ok, I am secure with you. Just please always answer my calls when I do call you” hugging Robyn “you know I will, if I am doing something I will get Ant to pick up. Don’t do too much work though, seriously. I don’t want you straining yourself doing house work” kissing Robyn’ cheek “I won’t, I feel so ugly. I wanted to go down there and look so bomb but I can’t, I have to hide it. I am just fat, I laugh and my cheeks come out” she ain’t lying “and I love it, you’re the cutest” picking my bag from the floor “let Cass get the rest” he can carry them into the bus, I can’t be bothered. Making my way down the steps with Robyn behind me “took your time, I thought you both were having sex” Mel said in a whisper, placing my bag down smiling “nah” walking into the living area “my bad, I was trying to make myself beautiful” I announced, Yinka was the first to get up “you still look ugly” Ant said, I chuckled “you had a safe trip here? Ant didn’t blindfold you?” shaking Yinka’ hand, I think we need to stick to hand shaking “he said it as a joke” I want my hand back, she finally let go “Hi Rihanna” looking behind me, Robyn is so stand offish “hi” she simply said back “your home is so beautiful, when we arrived Ant showed me the cars” sitting down next to Ant “yeah, it’s like a showroom” DD walked over to me, Robyn does not allow my babies here so I don’t know how my bulldog came “I seen this on your instagram, this is DD?” Yinka pointed “yes, I have a whole breed of dogs but they ain’t supposed to be here” grabbing DD’ collar, if she steps on the white rug then I will get it from Robyn.

Ant looked at me smiling “so how you want to do this?” I asked “well most of it will be freehand, just really following you. This is about you” I did once like my foreign women, Mel said she is average but I think she was just saying it “we can start now, I will show you my crib, keep my wife out of it though” getting up from the couch, pulling my hoodie down. Robyn is not amused at all, Mel and Robyn are awful together, two pregnant hormonal women “I would show you upstairs but that is a mess, I been packing and the bed is not made and the rooms are a little mess because we have got box’s of clothes from the Puma line, so I can take you to the cinema room or my cars? You want to talk to me there or here?” I might as well do her job “cinema room will be great” her manager spoke up, least someone is. Pushing open the door to the cinema room “this is huge!” Yinka spat “you don’t even need to leave the house” walking down the steps “we don’t, we just stay here most times” looking behind me, Ant is following behind.

Placing my hood over my head, holding the mic “you owe me for this” I said joking with her “this is good for you promo wise” she retorted “I guess but I let you in my home so you owe me” she is busy looking at some paper “how about you just ask me, be freehand. It’s boring just asking things on paper” she is nervous, I can tell with the way she is not looking at me and is a mess with things “ok so when you’re ready” the guy behind the camera said “ready” she looked up “I am just in shock, your home is just a dream. Huge too” she said in awe, I chuckled “paying a few millions, I expect it to be just that. It was not cheap, but it was more me. I wanted my cars being somewhere. My old crib had a huge space for my cars, I paid so much less but shawty wanted to move. This came up and we bought it, now I have to start making the money back. It ain’t cheap having a wife” I said half laughing “what is your routine, do you just wake up and what? Seeing the difference with you, because single Chris was totally different to this Chris” nodding my head “way different, well I will wake up. Keeping it strictly clean because I can’t be saying I have sex with my wife to the camera in the morning” I chuckled “I will wake up, depending on if my wife is awake she will cook. If not then I will eat what ever, I will catch up with the homies, studio. Events, there is always something going off in LA, always someone having a party. It is totally different because single Chris was confused I would say, he wasn’t in a good place. People would say it’s boring, I am boring but it’s the best kind of boring, you know. I can have fun but I know my boundaries, I got the woman I wanted so I don’t need to cheat. Then it goes to the fact I have done it before, like I told you before I had that wake up call” Yinka smiled at me “I like this Chris, he speaks sense. Who said love can’t change a man, so today we are going to explore the world of Chris. His album was released two days ago, we are going to travel with Chris. What do you think I will expect from this?” she questioned “erm” I paused “turn up, I am just going to be me and y’all can step into my world” I shrugged.

“Cass, nigga. Upstairs, my jewellery. There is four bags, one suitcase. Bring them, put it on the bus. Is EJ on there?” I asked, I haven’t even checked who is here “he is, will go upstairs. Rihanna” Cass said smiling before walking off, looking behind me “you can still come?” I am giving Robyn the option now, I know my wife and I know what she is like “is the bus out there?” Yinka said, Robyn gave her the dirtiest look “yeah, Lo. Take them to the bus” placing my arm around Robyn laughing “it’s not funny, stop laughing” Robyn wrapped her arms around my waist “I am laughing at you hating, I am going to miss you” Robyn groaned out “this is horrible, Ant why you taking my husband away from me” Robyn said to him “business is business, many things to come for Chris but of course you come first. He will be back before you know it” Mel smirked at Robyn “she is a such pain, honestly let him go. If you don’t want to go” she doesn’t want to go but yet is whining “you know I love you” Robyn looked up at me, pecking her lips.

It’s nice to have Mel back with me, not had Mel be with me in a while “honestly, we should stay at my apartment. Least the kitchen is right next to my couch, I feel like I am walking for so long just to get water” Mel sat down on the couch in a huff “this is why I wanted you here, I was not about to stay in this home on my own. It’s nice but at night it is creepy and lonely, Jen should be coming soon. I just want my babies with me” stifling out a yawn “I wonder what drama she got today, she called me three days ago. It was late at night, I picked up of course and she was like, Adam is actually driving me crazy about the money situation. He demands to speak to Rihanna, I don’t want to call her about this. I told her I would deal with it, then I spoke to him. He goes you know me Melissa, I did nothing wrong. She did me over, I helped her so much. Chris did this, he ruined her name and took my money. I was like if you want to speak to Chris, I am sure he would like to speak to you and do some more things” Mel shrugged “he put the phone down, we shall see what he does” rolling my eyes “Chris will actually hit him, I just want him to get the message and leave us alone. Honestly, Fenty Beauty was the greatest thing I did. It took so much for me to let it go, I don’t regret it because I saved my marriage and I pray to god that I do get that opportunity again” the situation was a mess.

I am jealous of Jen, drinking my wine and smoking my weed. Sipping my water “I didn’t get to ask, I saw the videos and pictures but how was the album release. I saw the reviews and they have been so good” Jen said “I am very proud of him, the album is great. The party was great but my back was gone, I was so happy to be in bed and then, Chris was slightly drunk but he knew what he was doing. I am always down for sex but at that moment I didn’t want it, but he wanted it. He was like a dog on heat, he was humping me practically. I didn’t want him on top of me so I goes I will be back, I am just putting something sexy on for you. I purposely took my time knowing he would fall asleep, I gave him ten minutes and I slowly opened the door to see he fell asleep” Jen cackled “men are so stupid drunk, it’s horrible though. Having sex when they are drunk, they are heavier too. They can’t find the right hole” pulling a face and nodding my head in agreement “if I am drunk and he is then it’s fine, we having sex and I am riding you but I wasn’t, I was like nope” Mel rolled her eyes “least you both get dick, I have black thrust 2000 in my drawer” I snorted laughing “you still use that while pregnant, can you reach?” I asked “yes, on my hand and knees” letting out an oh “you poor thing” pulling a face.

Pressing send on the text to my mom, I am telling her to not come to LA. I don’t want to see her right now “you and Chris have a nice bed” Jen sat down on my bed “we do, I changed the sheets so don’t worry bitches” Mel get out of the bathroom “it’s big and we can all sleep in one bed” Jen shuffled closer to me “so this is what you actually look like under the baggy things you wear, you have a bomb shape Robyn. It’s so perfect and round, I have a feeling this baby is going to be big” Jen touched my stomach, lifting my tee up and over my stomach “look at you, all pregnant and shit. This is so beautiful to see, you really have a perfect pregnancy stomach” hearing Jen say that makes me feel better “thank you, Chris usually before going to bed puts Cocoa butter on my stomach and massages my feet” Jen let out an oh “Yusef told me the whole drama and your tears, he called you fat and I goes to him don’t ever say that but I understood why, they are harsh in the paparazzi world. Your ankles do look swollen but it will go down, come. I will put Cocoa butter on your stomach” Jen gestured.

Poking my lips out “these are old, I can’t take any sex nudes now. Show him what? My swollen fat self?” I want to send Chris a sexy picture but I can’t, I have only my old ones “men are easily pleased, niggas will take a nipple. Your boobs have grown bitch, go in that bathroom and show him some boob” Mel said “roll your fat ass out of the bed bitch, come on. Chris is right, you have become so whiny about things” I huffed getting out of bed “no harm in propping ya leg up on the sink, if your pussy popping show it. Use his fetish” Mel pointed out, turning around “you done this before whore!” I pointed “you telling me you haven’t?. Actually don’t be so whorish on the first picture, just take a picture of your upper half. Be light hearted, be naked. Stand to the side. Embrace the baby in the stomach and put miss you daddy. Then start getting kinky, don’t pop up so quick with your pussy wide open” Mel is so stupid “whatever” let me take some pictures for Chris.

I decided to do what Mel said, I didn’t go all out but I did a side view. I don’t want to be too trashy just yet, pressing send to the picture and message “all done?” Jen asked, smiling wide “yes, all done. Anyways, did you check that bitches profile out? She hasn’t posted anything?” I have my spies on the job “she did a insta story, on the bus. But no Chris, just saying something exciting to come. Maybe she has backed off?” hoes don’t back off, I know that “I am doing this because Chris feels I don’t trust him, this is so hard for me because deep down I want to be there. He has a girl that likes him on the bus but I need to do it, I want to show him I do trust him but it’s hard so you two are my eyes and ears” feeling my phone vibrate in my hand, lifting my hand up and looking at the I.D “awwww is it the husband?” Mel asked “the smile on her face says it is, you go and speak to him” answering the call “hello?” I feel all shy now, he has seen the picture of course “you sending me sexy pictures like that baby momma? You looking all fine naked, you know I love your body baby. That is a bomb ass picture, you got me changing my lock screen now” I giggled out “don’t do that, someone will see. You like it then?” smiling wide “yes I did, I miss you. Honestly, you look so sexy pregnant. You have to believe me” sighing out “hmmm it’s hard to believe at times but what are you doing now? I am just getting into bed with my girls, I am sleepy” it seems very quiet where he is “in the hotel room, going to the club in an hour so I thought I would call my baby but you sent me that, speechless. Wish I could post it, when we can tell. I will post that, obviously cropping the boobs out because they mine but I love it. Take a video of yourself when you masturbate” he said so randomly “be quiet, I said I am sleeping in a bed with my bitches. I won’t be doing that, use the old videos you got. Is that tramp bitch not making any moves with you?” Chris chuckled “she was quiet actually, the boys scared her ass. You know how wild they can be, I am just laughing and shit” I am glad they did, stupid hoe ass bitch “well text me when you finish from the club, call me if something happens. Please, please be good. I want you home soon, me and baby Brown want you home and I love you” I miss him so much “I will text you, I love you too baby. Talk soon” I don’t want to get off the phone now.

[sherlockxreader]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 3

Day 3: Gaming/Watching a Movie

Summary: You help Sherlock forget about a blackout in London with an intense game of Texas Hold’em. Author: Maddy (@laterthantherabbit) Words: 2700 Characters/Relationships: Sherlock x Reader, John x Reader (platonic), Mrs. Hudson Warnings: Gambling

Author’s Notes: I thought card games fit into the gaming aspect of today’s theme so here you go. I hope you guys enjoy this fic!

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The rain began when you were halfway back to 221B and became torrential within a few steps. When you finally arrived back at the building with the groceries, you were soaked through and chilled to the bone. It was your turn to gather the week's groceries as John had done the last week and Sherlock had so graciously flipped you off with a grin when you asked him to accompany you. You shook your head with a smile as you entered the building with the morning's memory, water dripping onto the floor as you ascended the stairs to where John and Sherlock sat, just as they had been left that morning. “Have you two even moved at all since I left?”

John looked at you in bewilderment, feigning hurt at your implication. “Of course I have, Sherlock on the other hand seems to have not breathed since you left.” He chuckled to himself as he stood and made his way to you, taking the bags from your soaking hands so you could remove your drenched jacket, grimacing as it squelched when it landed on the floor.

“Ugh. Good to know.” You looked over the man that, as John said, seemed to not have moved a centimetre since you left. He laid stretched on the couch, his hands in The Mind Palace pose as you deemed it in your mind, flickering ever so slightly as his mind thought at a speed you could barely comprehend. Seeing his peaceful manner caused the devil in you to emerge, a smirk making its way onto your features as you made your way over to him as quietly as you could. 

When you were close enough you whispered out his name, gaining some of his attention before you pounced on top of him, your wet and cold figure immediately drawing him out from his mind.

“Argh! Y/N! What the hell are you doing?” Your laughter was too much to reply swiftly, you merely buried your cold nose into his neck and chuckled at the flinch that proceeded instead.

“Get off me!”

“Noooo, it’s too cold and you're really warm from being lazy.”

“I wasn’t being lazy, I was thinking and I don’t really care if you're cold because now I’m cold and wet because of you!” You looked up at his face with a smile still on yours. His pout was too cute to not to kiss in that moment yet it still remained as you laughed and got off him, making your way to the bathroom.

“Aww, stop being so grumpy Sherlock. I’m gonna go have a shower before I catch a cold.” As you made your way down the hall you hollered out your thanks to John for putting the groceries away, him giving a gruff reply in return whereas Sherlock mumbled to himself about distractions and cold lips. You couldn’t keep the stray giggles from coming out of your throat as you pictured Sherlock’s look of aghast at being exposed to your chilled body. As you undressed and prepared the shower, you thought of what else you were going to do today. It was your day off so maybe you could finish that book you’ve been reading, or maybe listen to that album you heard about, snuggling next to Sherlock as he lay on the couch. You looked forward to doing any of these things as you soaped your body when your daydreaming was interrupted by darkness and cooling water. Oh no.

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“Jesus, not today.” You got out of the shower before the water became too cold, some soap still on your body as you wrapped yourself in your fluffy dressing gown and twisted your towel around your wet hair. You emerged from the bathroom and came out into the dark living room, illuminated only by the grey light coming from outside. You saw that John was on his mobile to someone whilst Sherlock was still stretched out, though more tense than when you left him. As John spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line, you went to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers there, finding a couple of candles and some matches. You brought out your supplies and placed them on the coffee table near Sherlock, lighting the candles and placing them around to room so it was at least a little brighter.

“Bloody storm.” John had finished his phone call and was muttering to himself about his shoulder and leg.

“Who was that?”

“Some bloody technician I got phoned to when I called to see about the outage. He said that it’s affecting pretty much everything within two blocks and that they don’t know when it’ll be back up.”

“Great.” You huffed and flopped onto Sherlock’s leather chair, the noise you made causing Sherlock to jump and shift unexpectedly. “Geez Sherlock, are you okay?” He groaned and sat up. His eye’s were frenzied and his legs kept shifting up and down in agitation.

“No, I need electricity! It’s too quiet without it and I can’t think!” He appeared to become more flustered with each word until you could feel the tension rolling off his body.

“Hey it’s all fine, the power will be back on soon.”

“I need it now!”

“Why don’t we play a game?” John had somehow moved off without you and Sherlock noticing and had called from the kitchen. You could hear him looking through the drawers that you went through when you found the candles and you could hear him muttering about something before letting out a triumphant huff.

“Sure I’ll play something. What did you have in mind?” John came back brandishing a pack of cards in his hands. He sat down and began to shuffle them clumsily.

“Cards John, really? Why don’t you just lobotomise me! That’d be much more efficient!” Sherlock snapped in frustration, you could see how his tension was manifesting into panic so you recalled the few games you knew to see if one would spark any interest in Sherlock when a memory from your high school days made you chuckle. “Laughing at my misery are you Y/N?”

“Oh no just a memory. In high school the Art teacher was really laid back and let us play poker and Blackjack in class. We ended up betting each others shoes and belongings because we didn’t have any chips to play with and I ended up with five pairs of shoes and full pencil cases one day because no one could beat me.” You smiled at the memory of your classmates shoe-less with pouts on their faces for the entire period because of your prowess in gambling. Your nostalgic bubble was burst however when Sherlock laughed in mockery.

“You? Good at gambling? I’m sorry Y/N but you can hardly lie let alone bluff.”

“Hey. I’m an okay lier, aren’t I John?” You turned to face him only to be met with apologetic eyes and an amused smile.

“No I’ll have to agree with Sherlock here. You couldn’t lie to save your life. Last week you tried to hide the fact that you broke a stack of plates by saying a raccoon ran in here and knocked them over like in Friends. You are really terrible.”

You placed your hand over your heart and swooned dramatically. “I’m wounded John. That was hurtful.”

“I can’t help it if it’s true!”

“Alright let’s make this interesting. We’ll play blackjack, poker, anything that comes to mind. Anything is on the table and if, by the time the power comes back on, I own more things than you two combined, you two have to cook me and Mrs. Hudson dinner. Deal?” You glanced at both John and Sherlock and extended your hands for a handshake.

“What if you don’t have as many possessions?” Sherlock looked at you skeptically, his eyes alight with growing excitement instead of panic and you smiled inwardly that you could help curb his tension.

“I’ll do the cooking.”

“You already do the cooking most the time. How is that going to affect you?” John leant closer whilst maintaining eye contact. “You’re going to have to offer something else to get us to agree.”

“Fine. I’ll do the cooking and I will owe both of you one favour.” Sherlock’s eyes lit up with anticipation and he grasped you still extended hand.

“Deal!” He looked almost giddy with excitement, a drastic change from his frenzied appearance mere minutes ago. You looked towards John awaiting his answer.

“Okay, deal. What game are we playing first then? Poker, Texas Hold’em?” John shuffled the cards once more and cleared the coffee table so there was enough room for the cards.

“Perfect.” You grinned at him and Sherlock, knowing that they were about to be not-so-pleasantly surprised.

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“I fold.”

“Yeah me too.”

“Oh what already boys? But you’ve still got so much to offer to the table!” Mrs. Hudson commented from her perch on John’s chair. She had come in not long after the game had started and had been filled in on the stakes. Of course she stayed to see the outcome, and also the theatrics of the game; it wasn’t often she saw you three concentrating so hard on something other than a case.

“Yeah no. The last time I kept going I lost my tea. No happening again.” John grumbled as he grabbed the deck to start shuffling again. Mrs. Hudson smiled at what had happened earlier when she made tea for you three, which you all promptly bet that round, John and Sherlock losing theirs to you.

“Oh fine. I just had junk anyway.” You grinned as John and Sherlock gaped at you and Mrs. Hudson giggled slightly. You collected your small bounty for the round; John’s extra tea cup and Sherlock’s many pens as they began to stutter protests towards you.

“You had junk! But… but why would you bet your toast! That’s way more pricey than my pens!” Another giggle from Mrs. Hudson, hearing Sherlock debate the value of toast against pens wasn’t something common after all. You chuckled and took a bite of said toast. The value of each other’s objects were decided on the spot by the three of you and it was mutually agreed that fresh toast was extremely valuable. Through your mouthful you smiled, causing Sherlock, John and Mrs. Hudson to grimace at your lack of manners as you laughed some more.

“I’f cawed a bwuff fweetheart!” You had played over ten rounds of Hold’em through the black out and already you had claimed both John’s and Sherlock’s dressing gowns, John’s slippers, Sherlock’s shampoo (how that came into play you couldn’t recall) and some of his microscope slides and as well as an assortment of items that were picked up randomly between rounds.

You were ruthless. Sherlock thought that it would be easy to anticipate your moves but you were completely unpredictable and unreadable. Some rounds you were completely honest whereas others, such as this one, you were bluffing your way through. Some you bet little and others lots. Sometimes you gave in quickly or held out till the end, betting everything you had; he couldn’t predict you and it was impossible to get a read on you. John wasn’t doing much better. Though he schooled his expressions into a neutral poker face, he couldn’t get a grip on what all your small smiles and raised eyebrows meant. One round they showed you had a straight, the next, garbage. As he dealt out the next lot of starting cards and the shared cards, both he and Sherlock watched you carefully for any indication of your intentions, however in this round, you were pulling one of the most blank poker faces either of the men had seen, not a glimpse of a raised eyebrow or smugness in anyway. Sherlock was left of John so he was first to place his bet. The tension was stifling.

“I bet my skull.” John’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. His skull! That was probably worth nearly everything John had left. He looked back down at the two cards he had; an eight of hearts and the queen of diamonds. He thought of his options and whether or not it would be better to just opt out that round or bet it all. He looked up as you made your bet, matching Sherlock’s skull with the dressing gowns and last bit of toast and then topping it with the slipper and slides. Now it was worth everything John had. He folded and Mrs. Hudson gasped, she was really getting into this, he thought. Three of the five shared cards were shown - the 2 of hearts, ace of spades and 5 of clubs, and the next round of betting commenced. You and Sherlock matched bet for bet until all five shared cards were displayed - the ace, 2, 5 and now the ten of spades and the King of spades. Your reservoirs were empty; it was all or nothing.

“Okay then, um, show your cards then.” John could feel the tension increase exponentially as you and Sherlock locked eyes. If Sherlock lost then he and him would most likely be cooking that night for you and Mrs. Hudson. He grimaced slightly at the idea and then perked up as Sherlock moved, the smuggest expression he had ever seen upon his face. He showed his cards; the queen of hearts and the jack of hearts. He had a flush, and one with some of the most valuable cards in the game. John’s hopes were lifted. Maybe he wouldn’t be cooking that night after all.

“Bad luck Y/N, though I am really looking forward to using my favour.” Sherlock began to gather the items on the table. “What will I use it for? Hmm… maybe helping me in an experiment involving pig bladders? Or going to the next exhibition Mycroft needs me at? Oh the possibilities!” Sherlock and John were visibly more relaxed at these turn of events, until Mrs. Hudson spoke up.

“What about Y/N’s cards?” All movement stopped and all eyes were on you. Not a sound pierced the air. You looked up and John’s heart fell. Your grin was unlike any of the others he had seen today. It wasn't in amusement or smug like Sherlock’s had been, instead it was full of malice and your eyes glistened like the Devil’s.

“Oh I am so glad you asked that Mrs. Hudson.” You lowered your cards to the table and John closed his eyes in defiance. Oh God no. The queen and jack of spades. A royal flush. Sherlock had frozen, his eyes hard and his mouth set straight, jaw locked so tight it would seem to never open again. You delicately began to extract your goods from Sherlock’s stiff hands, thanking him for the outstanding round and that you were looking forward to dinner when he stood up so quickly you could hear his back and knees crack.

“The lights!”

“What about them?”

“They’re still out! John still has a chance to beat you!” His grin grew at the idea of a chance at not cooking, stopping when the humming sound of electricity filled the air and the lights flickered on. You looked up at them with a small, victorious smile upon your face, and you looked back at the two men. Sherlock’s joy had been dampened quickly, betrayal and despise written on his features and in his posture whereas John was filled with defeat, his head in his hands and utterances of God no on his lips.

“Well would you look at that. What’s the time Mrs. Hudson?” She looked at her watch with amusement, stating that it was just past three. “Perfect! John you know what I bought this morning at the shops, I’m sure you and Sherlock can make up something with that. Mrs. Hudson and I will be having a cuppa downstairs. Call us when it’s ready!” You extended your elbow in a gentlemanly fashion which made Mrs. Hudson laugh delightedly. “Shall we?”

“Of course dear. Be careful boys!” You two giggled like schoolgirls as you made your way back downstairs, leaving an exasperated John and Sherlock in your wake.

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“...”

“Want to wait till later and order takeout?”

“God yes.”

[deadlydollies13]

The Potion Master’s Grace Ch. 7

Madame Malkin arrived within the hour of Severus sending the letter. Grace stood on a pedestal in the middle of her room as the old woman pinned and measured Grace.    “I never get to do many pieces outside of the school uniform, so I’m rather excited! Oh, stand straight dear, I don’t want to make this too long,” Madame Malkin said, pinning Grace’s hemline.    Grace fixed her posture, standing perfectly still, “Sorry. I’ve never had someone make my clothes before, so this is all new to me. Frankly, a lot of things are new to me here.”    “Strange to see Severus so kind to someone. He seems like an entirely different person,” the woman said. “Now, tell me what your style is, dear.”    Grace knew she had to get certain styles of clothing, Severus said it was necessary to a young lady’s wardrobe and she passed this on to Madame Malkin, who wholeheartedly agreed. But then, Grace got an idea, “Do you know who Audrey Hepburn is, Madame Malkin?”

-

   Grace woke up early the next morning to start making breakfast. Not at all a morning person, she padded downstairs and immediately made a pot of coffee. At least he’s got that, I won’t die. Severus wasn’t up yet, and the house was dreadfully quiet. She pulled out her wand, that was twisted to keep her hair up in a messy bun, and flicked it, “Accio record player and a Beatles album.” She figured since she was still in the Wizard world, she’d be safe from the age restriction laws on magic. Her record player flew down into her arms along with the Beatles Greatest Hits album. She put the record on, replacing the empty atmosphere with a little morning pick-me-up.    Her mood was diminished when she opened the refrigerator and there was nothing in there. Not a single thing! I guess I’ll have to go grocery shopping. Merlin, what does the man live off of if Missy doesn’t do it for him? Grace was in no mood to go walk over to the town and get food, nor did she want to change out of her PJs, so she begrudgingly called Missy. 

   “Yes, Mistress Grace?” asked the tiny house elf.    “Missy, can you do me the biggest favor?”    “Yes, of course! Anything for the kind mistress!” Grace felt horrible for taking advantage of the poor creature but this was a drastic measure!    “I need you to run to the store to fetch me these things, and here’s some money. I promise this will be the last time. I really do appreciate it, though, Missy,” Grace handed her a list of all of the ingredients she’d need for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Later that day, she’d run to the store herself for more of a variety of ingredients.    “Missy doesn’t mind, Mistress Grace! Missy loves helping the young mistress!” and she vanished with a pop.    Grace sighed and leaned on her hand as she sipped more of the dark, bitter liquid. She’d gotten herself addicted to coffee at a young age, and now if she doesn’t get her fix, she goes through caffeine withdrawal and gets a headache.    Just then, Madame Malkin floo’d through the fireplace, startling Grace out of her sleepy daze, thankfully, not spilling any coffee on herself. Madame Malkin was carrying about a dozen boxes.    “Oh, I’m sorry dear, did I startle you? Severus said to just drop off your clothes when I was finished, I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” Grace rushed over to help her with the boxes, stacking them on the floor, fighting the temptation to rip them open.    “Oh no, it’s fine, Madame Malkin. I was up making breakfast, you didn’t interrupt anything,” Grace gave the woman a kind smile, running a hand through her unruly, red curls.    Madame Malkin looked at the tiny girl strangely, “Oh, I thought Severus had house elves for that.”    “He does,” Grace added. “She’s out getting me the ingredients because the kitchen is scarce. But, I think from now on, I’ll be making the meals from now on.” Grace winked and gestured to the fireplace, “Madame Malkin, I can’t thank you enough for everything. Anything you need, any help I could do around the shop, just Owl me, okay? Bye-bye now, have a nice day!”    The fireplace flashed the green as Madame Malkin stepped through. Grace sighed, Who knew I’d get weird looks for being a good person and not being lazy? She flipped the record over to Side B and checked her phone: nothing. Luna probably wasn’t up yet. She always liked sleeping in just as much as Grace did. Grace smiled to herself; she was so lucky to have a friend like Luna in her life. She hadn’t had any real friends before she met her, she never quite connected to the girls at the home and she left all of her childhood friends in Dublin when she was taken away from her family. She remembered the day she met Luna so crystal clear, it was such an important day to Grace.

   An eleven-year-old Grace walked aimlessly around London, looking for this Diagon Alley described on her Hogwarts letter. The Nobles’ said they knew nothing of the place, and they both had work, so Grace was left to her own devices to get her school supplies. She was starting to panic and was too afraid to ask just anybody if they knew of this secret place. She was looking high, low, left, and right for some sort of sign pointing her in the right direction. Then, she saw a tall man and a young girl with the same platinum blonde hair, and peculiarly dressed. She shrugged, and figured it was worth a shot.    “Excuse me, sir? Can I ask you a question, please?” Grace called out to the tall man. They both turned around to the redhead, the young girl, about Grace’s height, looked at the distressed letter in Grace’s hands and then back up to her with a wide smile.    “She’s going to Hogwarts too, papa!” the smaller blonde said to the taller. Her voice was high pitched and almost melodic. She had big blue eyes, long hair down to her waist, and chubby cheeks painted with freckles. If it weren’t for their hair, they could have been sisters.    The man gave Grace a slight smile, “What is your name, child?”    “Grace McClivert, sir? I-I don’t come from a wizard family, sir. I don’t know where to go for my things and no one here has heard of Diagon Alley,” Grace said, checking her letter once again to make sure she had the right place.    The man knelt down to Grace and whispered, “That’s because non-wizard folk can’t even get to Diagon Alley.” He pulled back and held out his hand, “Xenophilius Lovegood. And this is my daughter Luna.”    Grace shook his hand, “Pleasure to meet you.”    Luna grabbed Grace’s hand from her father’s and took it in her own, their hands dangling at their sides, “You can come get your supplies with me. I’m a first year, too.”    Grace followed the odd girl and her father to a pub named The Leaky Cauldron that Grace hadn’t noticed before. Inside, there were dozens of people dressed in jewel-toned cloaks with peculiar hats. Suddenly, the Lovegoods fit in perfectly, and it was Grace who stuck out like a sore thumb judging by the strange stares she was getting. Mr. Lovegood led them out back to a brick wall and tapped on the stones in a particular pattern and the bricks disappeared.    Grace’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she saw Diagon Alley for the first time. It was so much more colorful and cleaner than London’s inner-city. The buildings looked to be misshapen, or it could have been the streets. Plus, the air smelled much cleaner than that of London’s. Grace couldn’t believe her eyes, the place was truly magical.    Their first stop was Gringotts Bank, and Grace was glad, especially after Mr. Lovegood told her that the shops didn’t accept Muggle money. Mr. Lovegood went to one counter to speak to a goblin, but Luna led Grace to another counter, never leaving the redhead’s side, which made things much easier. Grace set a stack of three month’s worth of allowance on the counter, “Is there any way I could… maybe get this converted into Wizard currency, please?”    The goblin grumbled something in annoyance but started counting her notes. “Wow,” Luna said, picking up a note and holding it up to the light. “I’ve never seen Muggle money before. Is that the Queen? Our currency doesn’t have anyone like Minister Fudge on them,” and set the note back on the counter.    Grace giggled at the girl’s amazement over a note. What strange girl, indeed. Grace noticed the two beaded radishes dangling from Luna’s ears, “Did you make your earrings?”    “Why yes, I did. Aren’t they wonderful? Radishes are so cute,” Luna said, reaching up to her ears. “I love making jewelry and clothes, anything that has to do with art, really. I can make you some if you’d like. But then, you’ll have to teach me more about Muggle things.”    “It’s a deal then,” Grace said, taking the pouches of Wizard money from the counter. She peeked inside to see gold, silver, and bronze coins, no bank notes of any sorts. “I have no idea what these are, Luna.”    “Think of gold for Galleons, silver for sickles, and copper for Knuts. They’re actually bronze, but it helps you remember. And there are seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Sickles to a Knut. You’ll catch on, but I’ll help you for today,” and with that, Luna pulled Grace back out into Diagon Alley to start shopping for supplies.    Grace made a few observations throughout the day: Luna was very intelligent, despite her airy personality, her father worked for a magazine called The Quibbler and was a bit neurotic, Wizard currency made no sense, and most all Wizards were very kind. The two girls got their books together, got their robes fitted together— where they learned they were almost exactly the same size— and got their wands together. Luna’s wand was made of mahogany, 12”, unicorn core, and had a tulip handle. Grace’s was ebony, 10”, unicorn core, with a handle that sort of spiraled, almost having a blue sheen to it.    Luna got a light gray owl, but Grace decided while in the owlry, the birds were too much, and an Owl would never be allowed at the Nobles’ flat. So, she decided on a cat, a black one just like the witches in the movies had. She named the tiny kitten Cas and the shop owner promised that he was trained to be a perfect witch’s assistant, but really, Grace was just looking for a good excuse to get a pet cat.    Before the day ended, and Grace had to return home to the Nobles’, Luna grabbed both of Grace’s hands, “Promise that no matter what houses we’re sorted into, we’ll still be friends?”    Grace couldn’t believe that in just one short day, she had already made a friend, and she wasn’t even trying. She wondered if Luna was like her, and didn’t have many friends. Plus, going to a new school with a friend already made would make the transition a lot easier. Grace nodded and smiled, giving Luna’s hands a squeeze, “I promise.”    Luna’s smile went from ear-to-ear as she hugged Grace tightly, “Oh, wonderful! I can’t wait for school to start now! Be careful of the Nargles!” That was the last thing Luna called out before disappearing with her father among the London crowd.

-

   Missy soon returned with the ingredients and Grace began on breakfast, despite Missy’s protests to help. Instead, Grace put her in charge of record duty— just to get her to stop hitting herself— and had her run upstairs to her room to fetch her Sound of Music soundtrack. Missy’s job was flipping the record once the one side was finished and Missy was very proud of her new role, especially after Grace had convinced her she was being a very big help.

-

   Severus woke up that morning to the house being filled with The Beatles, but now as he made his way down the stairs, dressed and ready for the day, the house was filled with happy-go-lucky, sing-songy, music, along with a voice he had never heard before. He peeked into the kitchen to see a tiny redheaded girl dancing in her pajamas around the stove and singing along to the record playing.    Grace had her eyes closed as she spun around, not noticing the professor leaning up against the kitchen door frame with a very amused smirk on his face. “I have confidence in confidence alone. Besides which you see I have confidence in me!” she hit the last note, which Severus may add was quite impressive, with her arms open wide. When the button hit, she took a breath and finally opened her eyes, seeing her audience. The girl practically jumped back with a screech and hit her back on the counter, “Bloody hell!” she let out on accident. She’d probably have a bruised spine from her reaction.    Severus couldn’t help but laugh. Not at her, but at her reaction, “Are you alright?”    “ ’s not funny!” her face was as red as her hair now. “You should really wear a bell! Bein’ all mysterious and shite and poppin’ up outta nowhere like that! Now I’m gonna go hide under a rock for the rest of my life! I made fresh coffee!” her accent was thick and with her embarrassed state, she just went off with no filter.    She tried to stomp out of the kitchen but Severus held out his arm to stop her, “You’re not going to hide for the rest of your life.”    “Yes, I am!”    “Why? What happened to that confidence you were singing about? I thought you were pretty brilliant,” it had been so long since the house wasn’t filled with misery and tears, Grace’s aura of sunshine and happiness accompanied by music was a pleasant shock to Severus that seemed to chip away at his stone cold heart.    Now Grace was blushing, “Really?” She had never sung alone in front of anybody before, and therefore never had any feedback and had her believing that she wasn’t any good to be able to sing alone in front of people, to begin with.    Severus, with a straight face, said, “I never lie, Miss McClivert.”

-

   “What do you mean you’ve never had pancakes before?” Grace gaped at the man across from her as he drank his coffee and shrugged.    “My parents weren’t exactly… Mr. and Mrs. Brady, Grace,” he gave her a sad smile.    Grace decided not to push. She knew how difficult it was to talk about a dark childhood and wouldn’t appreciate it if she was on the receiving end of questions. Instead, she chose to brighten the mood, “Well, then I am honored to be the first to serve Severus Snape chocolate chip pancakes. Now eat your bacon, mister, before it gets cold!”    “Can’t believe I’m getting bossed around by a fourteen-year-old.”    “Hey! I’ll be fifteen July 8th! It’s a national holiday, I mean, everyone should know,” now she was just being silly. Severus wouldn’t expect any less since she’s had three cups of coffee. He was just glad she wasn’t jumping off the walls at this point.    “I’ll alert the papers,” he said sarcastically. “Anyway, Grace, do you have any plans on changing out of your pajamas?”    “On a normal day, no, but today, I have to garden, so yes! I’ll be right back!” Grace got up and ran up the stairs. Severus turned around to see Missy standing in the corner where Grace had put her so the house elf would stop trying to help.    “Missy, you may clean up.”    “Oh, thank you, master! Missy has been dying to help!” the tiny house elf couldn’t have gotten back to work faster.

-

   Grace came down the stairs moments later in an old t-shirt, patched up overalls, sneakers, her hair braided in two long side braids, and an old straw sunhat. She was awfully pleased with the farmer aesthetic of her outfit, but Severus didn’t seem to share the same opinion.    “They’re gardening clothes! They’re not supposed to be pretty and new. I do look adorable, don’t I?” she gave a little twirl.    Severus just rolled his eyes, “Sure, Grace, whatever you say. Did you remember to take your inhaler?” She nodded. “And you have your wand?”    “Yeah, yeah, yeah. If I’m not back in twenty minutes you can send a search party, you’ll find my body mauled by a rake and strangled by a gardening hose,” she made her way to the door but he followed her and grabbed her wrist.    “Grace, I’m being serious, I-“ and then he noticed them. The thin, silver scars on her tiny wrists. She was so pale, they could hardly be noticed, but he felt the raised skin under his fingers. He grabbed her other wrist, flipping them, checking for any new marks. Thankfully, they were all old, and tiny. What happened that made her do this? Who hurt her so badly to make her think that she would deserve this? Why has no one ever said anything about this?    Grace’s cheeks were tinted a dark red and her eyes had started to fill with tears. She pulled her wrists away from Severus’ grasp and went out the door, keeping her head down. “I’ll be back soon,” she called over her shoulder and ran down the driveway, rubbing at her eyes to stop her tears. She could feel Severus’ stare boring into the back of her skull, the stare that everyone gave her. Oh, you poor thing, being taken away from your parents. Oh, you poor thing having to live in an orphanage. Oh, you poor thing with depression. Let me give you a sympathetic look every time I see you. That was why she didn’t open up to just anybody. The only other person she had told was Luna, but thankfully Luna didn’t change how she acted towards Grace. She made sure not to mention certain things, but she didn’t treat Grace like glass. But now she was afraid Severus would change his ways towards her. She liked how things were going, she liked how they had just started to casually talk to each other, not as a professor and student. And now everything was going to change.

-

   Severus didn’t know how to feel. He was mad at Dumbledore, even Filius, for never noticing the signs. Or maybe they had, and never done anything about it, making it even worse. The least someone could have done was warn Severus about her. Now he was sure she’d be avoiding him for a while. And of course, he didn’t want that. He didn’t blame her, though, for not telling him. It’d take her a while to completely open up if she ever chose to, but he wasn’t going to prod at her.    She had been outside for a few hours planting. Severus looked out the window; now she was using the Aguamenti charm. Silly girl. She spent hours in the dirt but chooses to use magic to water them? He sighed, setting his book down, and went outside, careful not to startle her. When he finally got to stand next to her, she didn’t say a thing, just kept her gaze towards the garden.    Finally, he spoke up, “Grace-“    “I’ll wear long sleeves,” she cut in. “Or lots of bracelets.”    “Why on Earth would you do that?”    “To hide them. So I won’t embarrass you when we’re out in public or something.”    Severus couldn’t believe she had just said that. His heart felt heavy, but also wanted to slap the daft girl for even thinking such a ridiculous thing. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. Her eyes were red from crying. “You stupid girl! What could have possibly happened that made you think this way? It is not your fault, there is no reason to hide it, but you need to talk to me, or else I can’t help you. And I’m not going to stand back and watch you self-destruct from the inside-out, Grace!”    Grace stared at the man with tear-filled eyes, but when she opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a strangled sound before she covered her face with her— dirt-covered— hands and began to cry. “Merlin…” Severus muttered, pulling the girl close. He had gotten used to troubled children, being the Head of Slytherin House, but he never had one of them as his ward. There were no other parents call to come console their child. He was the one who had to console her and take care of things.    “I’m so stupid!” Grace said, wiping her face, but only smearing the dirt she had on her hands across her cheeks.    “You’re not stupid, Grace. Far from it, actually. Though, apparently you have no common sense since you forgot to put on any sun protection!” he said, gesturing to her pink arms. “And you’ve got dirt on your face.”    “Bloody hell!” She tried rubbing it off with the backsides of her hands, but it was only making it worse.    “Here, let me help,” Severus pulled out his wand, pointed at her face, and said, “Aguamenti.”    Grace now stood there, soaking wet, gaping at Severus. He had the audacity to laugh. A full-blown, doubled-over, laugh!    When he looked back up at Grace, her eyes were narrowed and her fist was clenched around her own wand. “Run,” she growled.    Grace chased Severus throwing every harmless charm she could think of, but the potion master just kept blocking them. She chased him up the walkway to the front door before he ran inside, closing the door as Expelliarmis hit the wood. “Come out here and fight like a man, Severus!” she pounded on the door, but he was not budging.    “No!” he called back and leaned against the door to catch his breath.    Between Grace’s screaming demands to be let inside, he heard a new voice coming from the other room. “Severus, is that you? What is that banging?”    Severus felt the color drain from his face, and then he went into a panic, “C-coming, Grandmother!” Merlin, why is she here? Why didn’t she Owl? He threw open the door and was met with a wand in his face and a very pissed off Grace. “Go in through the back door, run upstairs to your room, clean yourself up, and be the perfect young lady. You have ten minutes,” Grace had no idea what was going on, but Severus looked dead serious, and she knew not to question him when he was in a mood.    “Audrey Hepburn?”    “Yes, sure, whatever. Nine minutes and fifty-three seconds,” and he closed the door.    Grace sprinted around the manor and went in through the back door very quietly and up the stairs. By the time she reached her room, she was out of breath, but the clock was ticking for some reason Grace did not know yet. She grabbed the first box she could get her hands on and threw it on. Luckily, it worked in her favor. The dress was black and knee length, with spaghetti straps and in a fit-and-flare style. And thanks to Madame Malkin, who included shoes and accessories with every outfit, she put on the black kitten heels and black elbow-length gloves. She had no time to fix her hair and face, so she waved her wand and instantly, her face was clean and her makeup was done and her hair had been put up with her curls pinned. Finally, she could take a few puffs of her inhaler.    Grace made her way down the stairs and stopped before she went into the sitting room, where she saw Severus and an elderly woman conversing over tea. Who is she and why does she have Severus totally spooked? The woman looked very stern and composed herself almost regally. Grace figured she was from an important Wizard family that descended centuries back. And by the way, Severus fidgeted in his seat whenever the woman directly addressed him, Grace waited by the door so she would not interrupt the woman.    When the woman took a moment to sip her tea, Severus looked over at Grace and a look of relief washed over him, “You may come in, Grace.” The woman looked over at Grace and eyed her up and down. She seemed to take in every detail of her as Grace stood before with her hands behind her back. “Grace, this my grandmother, Margaret Prince.” Grace looked over at Severus— who was awfully pale, paler than usual— and back to the woman. Merlin, if looks could kill.    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, madame,” and she curtsied. Grace mentally slapped herself for doing so because Madame Prince raised an eyebrow to the naive girl and Severus couldn’t help but smirk.    “Excellent manners, you have taught this Muggle girl, Severus. She looks and acts like a perfect young lady,” Grace had to bite her tongue not to snort at that comment. Oh, so this is how it’s going to be? I’m the damn Muggle charity case?    “I’m glad to hear you think so, grandmother, but I taught Grace nothing other than Potions. Miss McClivert has always been well-mannered, even as a First Year at Hogwarts. And she’s one of my top students,” now Grace had seen everything; an actual compliment coming from Severus Snape. He looked over at her to give her a small smile, and Madame Prince just “hmph’d.”    “Are you enjoying your stay here, Grace?” she asked, turning back to the young girl.    “Oh, I love it here. It’s beautiful here, even more, beautiful than Hogwarts, but I suppose Hogwarts lost the initial charm after it became more and more like school as the years went on.”    “What is your house, dear?”    Grace was almost too afraid to answer, even though it was a simple enough response. But Severus was a Slytherin, and maybe he had come from a lineage of Slytherins, and Madame Margaret would dislike any other house just like Severus loathed the Gryffindors. Severus nudged Grace to answer when she started to zone out into her thoughts, “Ravenclaw, madame. I’m a Ravenclaw.”    At that, Madame Margaret’s face lit up, “I was a Ravenclaw as well when I attended Hogwarts! Is there still a crystal garden in the center of the common room.”    Grace relaxed and mirrored the woman’s enthusiasm, “Yes! And the stairs turn into a slide.”    “My dear, we were the ones who created the spell!”    “Really? That’s amazing!” The two girls carried on with their conversation about the Ravenclaw Common Room, favorite classes, professors that were Margaret’s that are still there to this day, and Margaret even went on about the Quidditch teams during her years at Hogwarts which really sent Grace on a tangent. Severus sat back in astonishment; he really couldn’t relate to what they were talking about, and he was in shock at just how well Grace was getting along with his grandmother. He didn’t even get along that greatly with his grandmother and they were related.    His grandmother had loved his mother so much, she was her pride and joy, her Princess Eileen. But then Eileen fell into wedlock with his father Tobias and Margaret forced the two to get married as if to not shed so much darkness on the Prince name, even though his father was a Muggle. And that made Margaret resent Tobias, though she had a very good reason to because he was an alcoholic and abusive to both he and his mother. Once Severus was born, Margaret barely even saw the boy enough to form an opinion, and therefore a loving bond was never formed between the two. Instead, Tobias would call the Princes’ “freaks,” and forbid any magic in the manor. His parents would fight constantly, and it would always end in Tobias getting piss-drunk and beating Eileen before passing out. When Severus would try and stand between his parents, he would only receive the first of Tobias’ throws, and get locked in the closet. Finally, Eileen just couldn’t fight him anymore, and Tobias hit too hard, and she never woke up. Margaret had almost killed Tobias, but Tobias threatened that if anything were to happen to him, he would send Severus somewhere far away from where Margaret would never find the boy. So, at the sake of keeping her grandson, the only memory of Eileen, in her life, she stepped back. Tobias moved them out of the manor, which now bore the ugly name of Snape Manor, and into a small house in Spinner’s End.    Severus looked over at the two women, who were still talking and laughing, and he thought about Grace’s adoption papers, still tucked away in his desk. He really hoped Margaret would have an overall approval of Grace. Yes, she was Muggle-born. But she belonged there, with him, with them.

-

   Grace had snuck away while Severus kept his grandmother occupied to cook dinner. Often, Grace would come back while the roast was in the oven, talk a while, and then excuse herself to go to the bathroom or “check on the house elf.” But really, Missy’s job for the night was to watch the roast and make sure nothing caught on fire. Though, if you asked Missy, she was very proud of her role as Grace’s helper, because “Mistress Grace” was extremely kind to the house elf, and even sang softly as she danced around the kitchen, cooking.    Dinner went extremely well, and the food was delicious. Every time Severus or Madame Margaret said something nice about the meal, Grace would grin and wiggle happily in her seat, never giving Margaret the slip that she was the one who actually cooked, instead of Missy like she was supposed to. Madame Margaret had even let Grace have some wine during dinner. Severus was apprehensive at first on giving the child wine, as he was apprehensive on anything that had to do with alcohol because of his father, but he knew Grace was smart enough to know better, and it was only one glass. But he soon regretted it because every time she took a sip, she would glance at Severus and smirk, like, Look at me, I’m practically grown up, drinking wine and conversing with the adults.    It wasn’t until towards the end of the night when things took a bad turn.    “So, tell me about your biological parents, Grace.”    Grace froze and her eyes grew big, “Well, t-tell about what, madame?”    “What were they like? Or, were you orphaned at such a young age that you don’t remember them?”    Severus couldn’t believe this. He could see Grace grow paler by the second, and her eyes glanced everywhere but Margaret. Grace’s voice tightened, as he was sure her chest was doing the same, “N-no, I remember them, madame. And I wasn’t orphaned, I was taken away by child services.”    “Oh dear, I’m sorry. What happened?”    Grace’s pale skin was now turning a shade of green, and she was finding the floor very interesting. She stood, “I-I think the wine’s made me a bit dizzy if you’ll excuse me,” and left to go upstairs without a reply from Margaret.    Severus looked at the now confused woman across from her, “Grandmother, not even I know what happened to Grace and her parents. But whatever it was, it was horrible and made Grace very mentally unstable. She’s lived in a foster home for two years, then skipped around foster family to foster family until she came across one who kept her for four years and then threw her out all because they were having a baby of their own. You must understand that Grace may have had a dark past but she’s a wonderful girl, a brilliant girl. And I don’t know why she hasn’t already been adopted because any family would be the luckiest family in the world to have a kid like her and they’re moronic for ever giving up on her. And it’s all because of what her monstrous parents did to her, whatever they did to her, and it’s not fair. Everyone looks down at her like she’s some broken porcelain doll but she’s not. She’s so strong and so full of love and the nicest person in the world, I don’t even think she’s capable of hate. Have you ever met someone like that? Someone not capable of disliking someone because they see good in everyone, even those who don’t deserve it? Because I haven’t, no, not until this tiny, redheaded, Ravenclaw girl skipped into Potions class and has been, probably the only student in my entire teaching career, to not be afraid of me or not give me any problems. And-“    Margaret held up her hand to stop Severus from going on, as she had heard enough. Severus blushed, he hadn’t realized he went off on a tangent about Grace, he just didn’t know what came over him. The same thing had happened when Grace was still in school and he went off about her to Minerva and Albus. “Severus, I don’t know why you insist on going on. My impressions were made from the moment I met Grace. Tonight was just time to get to know more about her. Now, go, she obviously needs someone right now.” Margaret got up and went to the fireplace to flood home. “Oh, and Severus, do fill out those adoption papers. Like you said, any family would be lucky enough to have that girl,” and she left.    Severus stood there, blinked a few times, and finally things set in. When he wrapped his brain around what his grandmother had just said and gave him permission to do, all he could think about was Grace.

-

   Grace had already changed into her pajamas and washed her makeup off. Now she was staring at herself in the mirror, with a million things on her mind. She had barely heard the knock on her door, and then someone come in. “Grace?” Severus called out to her.    “In here,” her voice was strained from having a lump in her throat she was forcing herself to swallow. She didn’t want to cry, she was done crying over that. Crying never did anything but make people pity you, and she was tired of the pity too.    Severus came in and saw Grace leaning on her hands against the vanity surrounded by bottles of her different medications. A jolt of panic went through Severus and he grabbed both of Grace’s shoulders, “Grace how many of those did you take?”    Grace was both shocked by the question and by being man-handled, “What?”    “Your pills! How many did you take?” Now he was checking her eyes, making sure her pupils weren’t dilated.    “I took the amount I’m supposed to take before bed! Merlin, what’s wrong?”    “We need to talk, Grace?”    “About? And can you let go you’re gonna bruise my shoulders.”    Severus let go, “Sorry. And we need to talk about… about this,” and grabbed both of her wrists.    Grace sighed, she was really in no mood to talk, but she somehow knew the man wasn’t going to drop it until she did. She went over and sat on the edge of the bed, “Fine. We’ll talk since my life is just oh-so-important to everyone.”    “Grace, what I mean is, you can’t keep everything bottled up inside, or else you’re-“    “Or else what? Huh, Severus? Please, tell me what else I’ll do? Jump out the window? Because you already thought I had just overdosed myself! I’m not stupid, Severus!”    “I never said you were stupid, Grace! And I didn’t mean to imply that, I was just worried,” tears had already begun to form in her eyes and he sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “But I can’t help you if you never tell me what happened with your parents.”    She was quiet for a few minutes, staring at the wall, trying to gather her thoughts in a way to tell her dark secret. It was easier when she told Luna, she had written it all down for Luna to read. Grace never actually orally told anyone what happened, not since the court case. Then, the tears really started to flow, and she shook her head to stop them but it was no use. “You wouldn’t want to know… You’d think I’m broken and disgusting,” her voice was strained and she frantically wiped at her eyes to stop her tears.    Severus’ stomach started to twist in twenty different directions. He had an idea, but he didn’t want to assume and also wanted Grace to come to terms with it. “Grace…”    “He told me if I told anyone he’d hurt me! I didn’t know any better. And she knew, she knew and still did nothing! And it went on for years! My teacher was the one who called Child Services because I had asked her about a period because I was afraid of getting pregnant from my father! Shit like that happens all the time, Severus, did you know that? I was seven! I had to stand infant of a courtroom, at seven-years-old, and tell them what my father had done to me,” her sobs were uncontrollable now, and she was gasping and wheezing for breath. Severus, whose heart was now shattered into a million pieces at the sight of the girl, and now wanted nothing more than to kill her father slowly and painfully, pulled her close, hand on her head, trying to get her to calm down. He didn’t know what to say, nothing could have every prepared him to respond to this sort of thing.    Once she had gotten enough oxygen back into her lungs, she continued, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”    “What the hell are you apologizing for?”    “Cause I’m a mess! Congratulations, you’ve got a stupid, whore Mudblood for a ward!”    Severus could have slapped her, but instead just tugged her hair and pulled her away to look in her eyes, “Grace McClivert, I never, ever, want to hear you describe yourself that way again! Do you understand me? What happened to you was not your fault, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry it happened, I’m so sorry you have to live with it, but you can’t make it disappear, and you certainly can’t hurt yourself in order to replace the pain he caused you. Promise me, Grace?”    Grace nodded and went back to hugging Severus, and she felt safe with him. She had spent years after being taken away being terrified of men, which made being in an all-girls home a good thing, but she had felt instantly comfortable with Severus. Now, with the relief of finally getting things off her chest, and the exhaustion from her breakdown, she relaxed enough to fall asleep against Severus’ chest. He didn’t leave her side for another two hours, afraid she was going to wake up from a nightmare.

[popofventi]

Favorite 100 Songs of 2019 :: #60-41

Ventipop's favorite 100 songs of 2019 is the culmination of all the best new songs I've heard and featured over the past year. It's not the same songs you'll hear on every other site's top 100 song list. Because it's my fucking favorite 100 songs...not theirs. Here are songs #60-41.

60.  “This Baby Don’t Cry” by K. Flay

"I used to think about the way that I dressed Like was I pretty enough? And am I good at sex? I used to want to say an early goodbye But I'm a disco queen, I just keep staying alive"

59. “Finally Found” by Graveyard Club

"Kid I'm a rollercoaster in an unknown, windblown world I'm a missing person way beyond the pines"

58. “Pumpkin” by The Regrettes

"I used to think that Romeo was full of shit But when I look at You I think this must be it"

57. “Hard To Kill” by Bleached

"All the cities that we burned down Turns out I’m very hard to kill After all the day we drift on Turns out I’m very hard to kill"

56. “The Hard Way” by Kim Taylor

"What I can offer you I gladly sit right here We'll take it day by day And we'll learn the hard way"

55. “The Man” by Taylor Swift

"I'm so sick of running As fast as I can Wondering if I'd get there quicker If I was a man"

54. “Talk About” by Super XX Man & Devin Sproule

One evening, at Ali's house, Peter grabbed the glockenspiel and started jamming along to a song I had written called "Talk About."

Peter said, "Scott I reckon this sounds a bit like Bruce Springsteen."

This sparked the writing process for the rest of the album. Songs came as they always seem to and that is by life experience. And times were tough.  I received a lot of songs from the ether just so I could cope I guess. Towards the end of the writing process I still had one song that eluded me. Honestly, I was ready write it off.

Along came Devon Sproule (stop reading, look her up, she's amazing). She was in the country for a series of solo shows and Super XX Man was lucky enough to open for her in Melbourne. I just had to take a chance and ask her if she would like to collaborate on a song I was struggling with. Lucky for me and the band, she had some time and agreed to do some recording over at Peter's. She and I arranged and sang the song "Sparrow" together. I think it's one of the best songs on the album and I'm so happy it was saved from the rubbish bin.

53. “Reveurs” by Lionel Scardino

Lionel Scardino was born in Caseros (Buenos Aires, Argentina) in 1995. He studies piano, composition and electroacoustic music at Universidad Nacional de Artes. As pianist he loves playing cover songs and original compositions.

52. “Service Road” by Better Oblivion Community Center

"Always had a sense of humor We still joked until the bitter end While all those steps he made can't walk them back"

51. “Get Off My Rock” by FIDLAR

"I wasn't made, I was born like this Big fuckin' deal if you get gentrified Back in the day, it was called colonized So when you're on vacation tryna find yourself Just remember to... Get off my rock"

50. “My Name” by The Wild Reeds

"It takes an army of my friends to fill me cup But one word from you to make me shut up."

49. “Listen!” by Samantha Sidley

Miss Samantha Sidley is a queer jazz singer & interpreter from Los Angeles, California. Samantha Sidley’s long-awaited debut record, ‘Interior Person’ was released on September 13, 2019. Declared “quietly radical” by the Los Angeles Times – and named one of its Best Albums of 2019 – Interior Person is a collection of original songs by Alex Lilly, Barbara Gruska and Inara George, exploring the wonders and perils of love, sex, and feminine power through an unapologetically lesbian lens.

48. “Rock ‘n ‘ Roll Star” by Sorry

"I gave my old heart up to a rock 'n' roll star."

47. “Blankets” by Craig Finn

"Found her serving breakfast In a cafe in the Skyway in St. Paul When we got to the Twin Cities I said man I know some songs about this place When they swept up all the empties the parties always seemed like such a waste"

46. “Born In The Slumber” by Flora Cash

"We were born in a slumber, no one really cared about us 'Cept for our parents, parents, parents The government's dead"

45. “Seventeen” by Sharon Van Etten

"Was it just a dream? Now you're half shy Think you're so carefree But you're just seventeen So much like me You're just seventeen"

44. “Hell Yeah” by Raffaella

"Rich kids in a daydream We're just too lazy to rock the vote Designer drugs in our bloodstream We're all just vegans in fur coats I think I might have found Jesus in his red sole Louboutin"

43. “Stalemate” by Anna Ash

"You can write yourself into somebody’s history and claim memory and importance and how it should be You were always kind of useless as a kid and hot damn, looks like we’re growing out of it"

42. “Hope Is A Dangerous Thing For A Woman To Have - But I Have It” by Lana Del Rey

"I've been tearing around in my fucking nightgown 24/7 Sylvia Plath Writing in blood on my walls 'Cause the ink in my pen don't work in my notepad Don't ask if I'm happy, you know that I'm not But at best, I can say I'm not sad"

41. “Robin Williams” by Noah Gundersen

"So I gather my impressions of the universal sigh And hope that someone's listening to their radio tonight Though it doesn't really matter with so many come before And who the hell are we fooling? No one buys records anymore"

#100-81

#80-61

#40-21

#20-1

[wknc881]

CLASSIC REVIEW: DEAD KENNEDYS- Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables 

BEST TRACKS: Kill the Poor, Holiday in Cambodia, California Uber Alles, Ill in the Head

  “Just when you think tastelessness has reached its nadir, along comes a punk rock group called ‘The Dead Kennedys'” read a San Francisco Chronicle article from November 1978, “they will play at Mabuhay Gardens on Nov. 22, the 15th anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination.“  Geez, what kind of chutzpah do you need to mock America’s most tragically iconic family on the anniversary of its most notable horror? Well, the Dead Kennedys were all chutzpah; in fact, they were practically bursting at the seams to brutally mock any American institution guilty of abhorrent injustice (and of course, there are many).  Though not attacking the Kennedy family directly so as to twist the magic bullet (I’m sorry), the apparent curse upon the 20th-century clan of American idealism was a perfect brand for a group whose entire existence hinged on a sardonic articulation of anarchist paragons. The Dead Kennedys were the first explicitly political American punk band.  Bands like X or Black Flag may have been indirectly political in their focus on youthful alienation, but the Dead Kennedys, specifically lead singer Jello Biafra, were completely committed to calling out by name each and every faceless establishment villain who was unfortunate enough to find themselves caught in Biafra’s latex-coated crosshairs. It was not introspection; it was full-fleshed Juvenalian satire. While Black Flag was screaming about being a skate-punk burnout in LA basements, the DKs were hammering Pol Pot, Jerry Brown’s “zen fascists”, privileged college students, unmitigated capitalism, and police brutality in San Francisco’s, well, basements.  Their sound was an absurd combination of screeching feedback, overly laid-back surf rock, spoken word, and performance art. Biafra, always keen on any form of the alternative spotlight, was never at a loss for intentionally aggravating pranks which furthered his desire for total demolition of post-war America. These included illegally using warped pictures of other bands for liner notes, abrasively declaring that then-Governor Jerry Brown was actually a hippie Nazi, or running for mayor of San Francisco on a platform of outlawing cars and demolishing all Government buildings. Whatever cliched pattern that today’s alternative rock falls behind in their lazy conviction of powers-that-be (ahem American Idiot) is derivative of the Dead Kennedy’s extremely meticulous establishment of punk rock as a political force.  They were ideologically consistent, absolutely non-partisan, and, perhaps most importantly, fully committed to an absurdist approach to music that highlighted the very serious realities of injustice. 

  In 1978’s San Francisco, 20-year-old guitarist Raymond Pepperell put out an ad in “The Recycler” for bandmates for form a punk group.  Two people responded: bassist (and banker) Geoffrey Lyall and poet/singer Eric Boucher. The three were rechristened as East Bay Ray, Klaus Flouride and, of course, Jello Biafra.  Their first shows around the Bay Area garnered significant attention (both positive and negative) for somehow being in worse taste than even the raunchiest American punk acts. Cartoonish, catchy, and absolutely confrontational, Biafra gained infamy through his highly animated stage presence which included often dousing the audience in beer or destroying pieces of the stage.  It is important to note, however, that the Kennedy’s performative violence was not out of angst, but rather part of a tongue-in-cheek attitude towards the establishment. A typical snapshot of a Kennedy’s live performance saw East Bay Ray hammering away at distorted spaghetti western riff while Biafra bellowed out how much the government wanted to kill you while kicking at the walls with a massive grin on his face. Declaring himself the band’s primary songwriter, Biafra would tape record melodies using only his voice which his band would later transcribe onto their respective instruments.  Of their early written material, one song stood out for being particularly catchy and scathing. “California Uber Alles” was released Summer of 1979 as the Dead Kennedys’ first single. With military-esque drumming, bastardized surf guitar, a cheeky flamenco melody, Jello’s typical outrageous bellow, and lyrics condemning then Democratic Governor Jerry Brown as a hippie fascist, the band distilled everything in within the DKs essence into their very first recording. And while their embrace of non-power chord guitar lines and heavy political overtones was enough to set them apart from any American contemporary, it was “California Uber Alles’” subject matter which is most representative of while the Dead Kennedys were such a unique and integral group.  Attacking Jerry Brown, at first, is incredibly confusing. Ronald Reagan, Brown’s predecessor as California’s governor, had just been elected president and, unsurprisingly, was incredibly unpopular among punks. Why would they go after California’s new “cool guy” Democrat as opposed to Ronald fucking Reagan? Well, simply put, the Gipper was too easy a target. Jello Biafra wanted confrontation, an interruption of American organization beyond partisan attacks on low-hanging fruit. Of course Reagan was terrible, but so was Brown. The Dead Kennedys were anarchists; attacking Reagan would be redundant and a lazy cash grab for a band whose entire ethos hinged on a dismantling of the state. And ultimately this decision was imperative for the band eventually signing a deal with independent British label Cherry Red; the DKs now had the chance to record a full length album.  A whole album was given to Biafra and his band to yelp and screech about international injustice in the most sarcastic manner possible. As one would expect, it’s a lot to get through in one sitting; and as one would expect, it’s an amazing album. 

  “Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables” opens with a fitting introduction to the listeners next 40 minutes of acerbic, macabre, and ludicrous fun: “Kill the Poor”.  The song begins with massive chords reminiscent of over bloated 70s arena rock laid on top of Biafra’s lyrics concerning a government who has discovered the neutron bomb and will subsequently use it to kill all of their nation’s poor.  A blistering surf-punk riff tears down its introduction and the song instantly transforms into a breakneck bounce of sing-along melodies that wouldn’t be out of place in a Disney movie. “Kill the Poor”, despite its placement at the top of the tracklist, is a pinnacle only matched by two other tracks. One of these is a crisp re-recording of “California Uber Alles” while the other is, well, probably pretty familiar to a lot of you readers.  The Guitar Hero Classic: “Holiday in Cambodia”. The angst-infected alt-classic opens with an atmosphere, echoed guitar chaos lightly strewn over the unforgettably chunky, descending bass riff before erupting into the bone-chillingly excellent main riff. Churning like an unpleasant halloween acid trip, the song is undoubtedly Biafra’s most scathing performance on the album. As he attacks privileged Americans by contrasting their life with victims of Pol Pot’s Cambodian regime, the other Kennedys lock into a terrifying groove filled with bastard surf motifs and disgustingly sweet distortion. The chorus, as with any classic Dead Kennedys track, is incredibly catchy.  It entices the listener to sing it to themselves when they’re aren’t even thinking of it, as if to trick them into condemning very basic pieces of American civilization. There’s a reason “Holiday in Cambodia” is still the DKs most well known song: it’s haunting, brutally honest, wholly subversive, genius, ear candy. 

  “Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables” is the album most people immediately associate with the Dead Kennedys, and this is by no means something to complain about.  Hosting three of the bands best songs and even providing insanely smart and concise parody in its filler, the album is a perfect representation of punk rock’s potential as a force of American political commentary.  No punk band before the DKs came close to explicitly tackling horrendous societal hypocrisies and I don’t believe any band that has come since has done this nearly as well. In an alternate timeline without our anarchist heroes, the landscape of all American music would be undoubtedly changed.

  -Cliff Jenkins

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Eggs, Art and Lakeith Stanfield Help Me Fight My Sunday Scaries

https://fashion-trendin.com/eggs-art-and-lakeith-stanfield-help-me-fight-my-sunday-scaries/

Eggs, Art and Lakeith Stanfield Help Me Fight My Sunday Scaries

I’ve recently become pretty territorial over my Sundays. If my Friday/Saturday situation was a little too busy, I feel like I need to pack maximum relaxation into Sunday. Luckily for this Sunday Scaries situation I was entering the last day of my week-long staycation, so I felt like I could handle a full-ish Sunday and not try and stretch two hours of a Netflix binge into some sort of social commentary for the sake of word count.

8:00 a.m:

I wake up far too early for a vacation Sunday. I consider going to yoga, but know it would be for the sake of looking balanced in this diary, so I skip it to keep it real and go back to bed.

  9:00 a.m.:

I wake up — for real this time — make some coffee and settle on a time to meet my friend Sarah later in the afternoon. I debate doing laundry before starting all my activities but decide to just read for a bit instead.

  9:30 a.m.:

I eat a bunch of cherries. Then, after realizing I had been a little too lazy on my vacation, I decide that I actually need to accomplish the ONE thing I said I would on this break and go and join my local pool. I look up the schedule to make sure I will actually be able to go during the week, figure out what documents I need to bring to sign up and feel like a real smart grownup.

10:15 a.m.:

I do some cleaning because my roommate is coming back from Nantucket and, in the four days I’ve been left alone, I have turned our place into Grey Gardens-lite. Unfortunately, in the middle of recycling a tower of La Croix cans, I get pulled into a text conversation with my friend Alaina about Alexis Ohanian’s vocal — but not performative — love of Serena Williams and stop cleaning.

11ish:

I decide to walk to the pool and listen to the new Drake album to give all of the excellent tweets I’ve seen about him some context. I pack two books, a bunch of gum and a full water bottle for my journey up to Inwood after, where I’m meeting Sarah.

11:45 a.m.:

I get to the building and…can’t figure out how to get in? All of the doors appear to be locked so I walk around twice until I finally notice a tiny laminated flyer letting me know the BUILDING IS CLOSED TILL OCTOBER. Somehow in figuring out if I needed to bring a check or debit or whatever, I missed the memo that the thing closed for renovations in mid-May. So if you know of any affordable pool options in Brooklyn, let me knowwwwwww. Sigh. I should have gone to yoga.

12:15 p.m.:

I get to the A. I wait for the A. I step into the A. It is my home now.

1:30 p.m.:

Okay the ride wasn’t that bad! I switch between reading “Do Not Say We Have Nothing” and zoning out to the new Florence and the Machine album. I consider how my life needs more drama and floor-length dresses.

I am alone on the train for the last two stops, which is terrifying but also kind of nice. Moments of absolute solitude in NYC are hard to come by so I tried to focus on that for two minutes rather than feeling like I was in a horror movie.

1:40 p.m.:

I meet up with Sarah. The place we want to eat is cash only so we wander to the ATM. We then have a delicious lunch (with this hilariously poached egg), wait for our check for a lonnnnnnnng time and set off for the Cloisters.

2:00 p.m.:

You basically have to go on a mini hike to get to the Cloisters, which is lovely and hard when you’re full of bread. There are gorgeous views of the mighty Hudson and lots of cute families out and about. There’s also enough signage so that even the most directionally challenged (ME) can find it with ease.

2:10 p.m.:

Holy hell this is so much more breathtaking than I expected. The building, the gardens, the art and the Heavenly Bodies pieces are great. I fantasize about a life in which I need a unicorn tapestry.

4:30 p.m.:

I text with my roommate about giving the cat I was cat-sitting back to her friend. Sadly, the owner still wanted her back which means I will be catless once again.

4:50 p.m.:

Sarah and I leave the Cloisters and get into a long discussion about the old PBS series Frontier House as I almost get us lost walking the exact same way we came up. Despite my best efforts, I make it to the train station and we say our goodbyes.

5:50 p.m.:

I hop off at Jay Street to go pick up my MoviePass ticket for Sorry to Bother You since I’m afraid it’s going to be sold out. My friend Mike texts me as I’m on the escalator to say he already looked and it is sold out. I try to see if the theater is holding any tickets for real live humans and learn they are not. We make a plan to see the movie later at BAM instead; I run over to grab tickets just to make sure.

  6:30 p.m.:

Home. Drink a ton of water. Eat some carrots and a handful of mini marshmallows. Check my email now in an attempt to make a post-vacation Monday less scary. Play with the cat I’m pet-sitting, try to take too many photos. She is deeply uninterested.

7:48 p.m.:

Head back out to meet Mike at Tacombi. Am running woefully late.

8:30 p.m.:

I’m catching up with Mike, who recently sustained an injury dancing stone cold sober on a table to “What’s Your Fantasy.” I am so enraptured with the best story ever that I barely notice that the movie starts in 10 minutes and none of my food has shown up.

8:36 p.m.:

It finally comes, I pay the bill and dash out with chips and guac in my purse, shovelling a cup of corn into my face as I run across the street. Feeling like a modern girl!

8:42 p.m.:

Sorry to Bother You is great and weird and wonderful. Lakeith Stanfield is great (also that particular brand  of lanky weirdo is very much my thing) and Tessa Thompson wears a lot of no make-up make-up and I think I probably need to see it twice.

10:30ish:

Say goodbye to Mike, hop on the train and head home.

11:11 p.m.:

I make a wish! (It’s astoundingly boring.) 11:15 p.m.: I take out the trash, brush my teeth, take a melatonin and slap on a sheet mask. Happy Sunday! Sorry it was so mundane. (Go see Sorry to Bother You!)

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