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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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shut up and put your money where your mouth is // oscar piastri

summary: the reserve drivers have a little mischief pool going, keeping themselves occupied on weekends where they have nothing better to do. until nico hulkenberg pushes y/n and oscar a little too far and makes them confront how they feel about each other

pairing: oscar piastri x female alfa romeo! reader

warnings: alcohol is involved, drinking games are played (spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven) and a massive prank war is waged on every driver in the paddock, implied smut scene at the end, but no smut is written. sexual innuendos because jack doohan is a little shit, y/n is too cool for oscar (she's also really mean to fernando but in a funny way . . . sorry nando) mentions of a crash ( everybody was fine, y/n is just still feeling the emotional effects )

author's note: so for a while now i've been wanting to make a story or a fic that focuses on the reserve drivers because i feel like they all sort of get forgotten, so this fic is dedicated to the reserves and those who hide behind the scenes : )

"alright, jamie and logan got the extra dye from alex, liam and dennis are going to distract the old man." y/n started eagerly, making grabby hands towards logan sargeant, who gave her a strange look before passing over the bottle of red hair dye. "oscar, do you and jack have a way of getting into his driver's room?"

the reserve drivers were standing outside the alpine hospitality building, mischeif in their eyes as a plan started brewing. the reserve and development drivers were only performatively employed through driver's academies. they had no real reason to be there on race weekends. very rarely were they actually needed.

it was natural for them to get bored, expected, even. because who wanted to stand around and look at data all day when it didn't even affect them? who wanted to take a ten hour flight to another continent just to sit around and do nothing all race weekend except look good for the team?

and that's when nico hulkenberg had made his proposal. every season, it was a new game. always disruptive to the regular drivers, always chaotic and more than once it got guenther steiner swearing at the lot of them. two teams, a season full of dares and challenges.

and may the best pranksters win.

jack doohan nodded. "it was shockingly easy to get his keys. all you've gotta do is find a way to swap out his shampoo for the dye. and then when he goes to take a shower after free practice," jack clapped his hands together. "his hair will be red before the old codger knows what hit him."

their team was the young guns, the under twenty-fives. there were more of them than anybody else, but they were competing against guys who had been there way longer: nico hulkenberg, antonio giovinazzi, robert schwartzman, nyck de vries, stoffel vandoorne and pietro fittipaldi

"i'll come inside with you. since the contract thing started, people in alpine hospitality have been giving me a wide berth." oscar piastri shrugged his shoulders, hands in the front pockets of his black chinos, making his alpine polo ride up, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach.

y/n sucked in a barely audible breath, hoping that nobody around noticed.

she wasn't sure when she developed a crush on the aussie f2 champion, but she knew it wouldn't lead her anywhere good. never mix business and pleasure, so she had always been told.

no, it was better to leave oscar to his own devices. to pretend she felt nothing towards him.

"you don't have to." she said gently, pulling a denim jacket over her alfa romeo polo. with any luck, she was little-known enough that the hospitality staff wouldn't recognize her and just let her pass through.

worst comes to worst, she could always pretend she was coming to say hi to abbi pulling, who had recently signed to the alpine young driver's programme.

"you don't even know where his driver's room is."

she hated it when oscar was right. "fine." she pouted, hooking her fingers in her belt loops. "but let's make it quick, before daddy szafnauer gets the wrong idea."

jack snorted, and logan shook his head, wishing he could leave the conversation.

"excuse me, what?" the american frowned, raising his eyebrows. "there's something wrong with you."

"what?" she laughed, sipping from her plastic starbucks cup.

god, oscar would never tire of that sound, the visual of y/n throwing her head back, smile splitting her features as her hair spilled down her back.

"he's like, the fourth most fuckable team principal. don't even get me started on daddy toto."

"there's a scale?" jack looked scandalized. "i am but a mere child, too innocent for this!"

oscar snorted. "according to the country of australia, you're street legal, doohan."

"here's the scale: toto, jost, andreas, otmar, christian, mattia, mike, guenther, fred, franz. i'd fuck ted kravitz, too. don't underestimate daddy kravitz."

somehow, at the revelation that y/n wanted to fuck toto wolff, oscar's ego ached. if her type was six foot five austrian men old enough to be her father twice over, what chance did he have?

'"i know way too much about you." logan shook his head, beginning to walk backwards. "good luck fucking fernando over- bad word choice given that last conversation, let me know how it goes."'

y/n laughed, playfully punching oscar in the arm. "come on, alpine's most wanted. i've got an old man's day to ruin and a self-centered german to upstage."

y/n tossed the bottle in the air, catching it with a grin as she brushed past oscar and headed into the hospitality suite.

oscar watched her go with wide, bright eyes, attempting to casually hide the boner forming in his khaki's as his eyes zeroed in on the alfa romeo driver's sashaying backside, made extra prominent by her tight black jeans.

"you coming, problem child?" she shouted, a bright smile on her face as she stuck her head out of the glass door.

"coming in just a second!"

"i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"""i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"

"fuck off!" oscar whined, pushing jack's hands away as he sauntered up the hospitality steps. "i'm doing it for my commitment to the bit."

he wished that he had sounded like he believed it, but everybody knew that he didn't.

everybody knew that he did it because he was head over heels for y/n y/l/n.

he ran to catch up to her, directing the testing driver in the direction of fernando alonso's diver's room. fernando was never the original target of that prix weekend's scheme. in fact, y/n was never supposed to be the person who planned it. this was supposed to be frederik vesti's weekend to plan and execute the scheme.

but after an unfortunate incident in fp1 resulted in fernando cutting y/n off and sending her into the wall, cutting her coveted rookie driving session short, a session she had fought freddie vasseur tooth and nail to steal away from theo pourchaire, plans had changed and she'd swapped weekends with fred.

drawing the keys out of her jacket pocket and offloading her frappucino on the australian standing next to her, she opened the unmarked door to fernando's room, rolling her eyes at the massive spanish flag hanging on the wall.

"where's the fucker's shampoo? he doesn't get to ruin my one young driver session and get away with it." she started pacing, hands reaching to the back of her head to tap on the brim of the backwards baseball cap she was wearing. "changing his hair color is fucking mercy compared to what i should be doing to him."

"shower's are that way." oscar nodded, cocking his head towards a royal blue hallway. "how many points do you think this is going to get us with the hulk? you have to admit, that stunt he pulled on crofty and brundle last week was kind of legendary."

y/n rolled her eyes, heading towards fernando's shower and wishing she had brought gloves. seriously, what do old men get up to when they shower? she didn't want to find out. she could get a goddamn staph infection just from stepping foot in the damn thing.

"all nico did was fuck with the microphones. they fixed it in less than half an hour. all that happened was making sure that fp1 was narrated by darth vader." she shook her head, wincing as she reached into fernando's shower, wishing she could have gotten somebody else to do it. "nico shouldn't even be doing the scoring if he's participating. why can't kubica do it? he's a neutral party."

but there wasn't enough money in the world to pay one of the other reserves to stand in fernando alonso's shower.

she uncapped the bottle of men's head and shoulders, overturning it in the bathroom sink as she turned on the faucet, watching the thick, cream colored liquid bubble and fizz as it went down the drain.

"robert made it damn clear that he wants nothing to do with this." oscar laughed, trying to decipher the label on the side of the starbucks cup, curious to see what sweet concoction was in the cup, especially knowing that she didn't like to drink coffee.

"understandable. i think robert's kind of done with everybody's bullshit. mostly theo's, though. frankly, so am i. truth be told, i think vasseur wants me gone." she frowned, twisting open the bottle of red dye that logan had given her and upending it over the plastic bottle. "i don't think that he's a fan of the fact that i'm never going to drive competitively."

"that's a bullshit reason for him to fire you."

"that's what i said!" y/n complained, throwing her hands in the air as she waited for the thick red dye to drain. she wasn't even sure if her plan was going to work: fernando's hair was dark, and it was arguable that the color might not even show unless the spaniard bleached it first. "i've never wanted to drive competitively, but after what happened in magny-cours, i'll never be able to compete again."

she had never wanted the fame, the glory, the champagne and the trophies. all she'd ever wanted to do was drive. she'd had a mediocrely successful season with the w series in 2019, followed up by half a season in formula three before a three-car crash had broken four bones in her foot.

she could still drive, and she loved her job working in testing and development, but she could tell that frederic vasseur was tiring of prepping and training a driver that was never going to make it to f1. a driver that would never compete in anything ever again. the crash had stolen all of her self-confidence, and there was nothing she could do other than pack all of her dignity in a box and walk out of the prema garage, terrified to ever race again, for fear of another incident occurring. her partnership with the ferrari driver's academy had fallen through a year later, and she counted her blessings every day that alfa romeo had rescued her from the wreckage of what she had seen her life becoming.

shaking her head as she realized that the dye bottle was empty, she rinsed it out before stowing the evidence in her jacket pocket and putting the cap back on the shampoo bottle before thrusting it back into fernando's shower.

"come on, piastri." she grinned, taking her drink back from the academy driver. "let's get out of here. all we can do now is wait for the old man to have a shower, and then nico is going to have to give in and declare us the winners."

they got their answer three hours later.

y/n was walking through the paddock with jamie chadwick and jessica hawkins, twirling her paddock pass between her fingers as she made small talk with the girls she considered to be her best friends.

"so, y/n . . . " jess started, the pom pom on her signature beanie hat bouncing as the brit walked. "are you finally going to tell oscar?"

"nope." she answered. too fast, always too fast when it came to feelings. too quick to catch them, even quicker to deny them. especially when they concerned the boy at the center of every f1 news story in the last two weeks, ever since he had announced he would not be signing with alpine, but in fact would be ousting daniel ricciardo from mclaren. "never. no feelings whatsoever."

"aw, jess, look at her face go all red." jamie laughed, nudging y/n's side. "she's definitley in love with piastri."

"um, go fuck yourselves. both of you." she laughed, trying to hide how flustered she was. she had been waiting all day for fernando to come running out of hospitality, cussing her out in spanish at the top of his lungs. "the way my life is going, i might not even be around the paddock next year. i've actually started looking into testing for formula e, maybe i can become a reserve driver or something there. mclaren will need people."

"vasseur finally sick of seeing your face in his garage?" jess replied sadly. "i'm sorry, love. freddie just has a stick up his ass and someone needs to yank it out. with force."

the girls laughed, arms around shoulder's as they kept walking down the paddock. y/n froze, reaching for jess and jamie's arms, trying to get them to slow down before they walked past the alpine suite. jack and oscar were sitting on the patio with liam and dennis, waiting to see the fruits of their labour.

"who did this?! which pendejo is responsible!?"

"jesus fucking christ." jess groaned. "please tell me that you didn't."

on y/n's other side, jamie extended her hand for a low high five. "so that's what the dye was for." she laughed as the front door to alpine hospitality swung open, a furious fernando alonso standing on the front steps.

his hair was still soaking wet, but it was clear to everybody in a five mile radius that his hair was now a very vivid cherry red. the pure look of rage on the spaniard's face should have been enough to send a shockwave of terror through her body.

instead, it just made her feel alive.

at the patio table, the four boys had collapsed in laughter. jack had his head buried in his hands while liam had his phone out to videotape the entire encounter.

"did you cabrons do this?" fernando roared. "as if what you've done to the sanctity of this team wasn't enough!"

"oscar, run!" she could hear dennis hauger shout through his fit of laughter.

oscar stayed put, laughing to himself as he looked over at y/n.

and when he winked at her, she thought her legs would buckle, the butterflies spreading through her stomach so rapidly that she thought she might be sick.

she had been past the point of denying her feelings to herself a long long time ago, and now the aussie had a permanent place in her dreams, in both horny and wholesome ways. her fingers had become quite acquainted with the motions they robotically performed whenever oscar piastri appeared in her late-night fantasies.

"oi fernando!" she shouted, throwing her middle finger up in the air, ignoring all the patrons and crew members who were gawking at the alpine driver. "that's for sending me into the barriers, you old cunt!"

when fernando turned back to her, jessica grabbed her hand, and in a fit of laughter the three girls took off down the paddock to the aston martin garage.

nico hulkenberg had decided to award ten points for that stunt.

he had given himself eight points for the darth vader microphone trick.

the war would continue for weeks upon weeks, only stopping for the summer break. jessica and y/n had teamed up with liam to cover lawrence stroll's desk in plastic wrap, rendering it unusable and relishing in watching the multi-millionaire throw a fit when he couldn't figure out how to get the plastic wrap off his ikea desk. ( worth eight points. )

robert schwartzman and antonio giovinazzi had countered that by gluing clown wigs to the headphones used by the ferrari pit wall. to this day, mattia still didn't know who was responsible. ( worth five points. ferrari were already enough of a joke as is. )

and suddenly they were in sao paolo, and the season was almost over. begrudgingly, hulkenberg had relented and crowned the younger group the winners.

y/n had hefted the large lego trophy with a proud look on her face, standing in the center of oscar piastri's king-sized hotel bed while the other reserve drivers clapped for her from the floor.

they had gathered together for one last hurrah, a night without pranks or fighting or superiority complexes. a night to celebrate: logan, nyck, oscar and nico were all being promoted.

and y/n had news of her own that she planned to announce after the season ended in abu dhabi: she would be leaving f1 to go to formula e and act as the reserve and development driver for avalanche andretti now that she knew for certain that vasseur would not be renewing her alfa contract for another year.

jamie would be leaving for indy nxt, and liam for japanese super formula. it was truly their last night all together, their last night of things being the way that they used to be.

"i think we need to end this season properly." pietro insisted, reaching for the bottle of ferrari trento that was in the middle of the circle where they were all sitting. "it's our last season together, so forgive me for growing attached to you motherfuckers."

with news of nico returning to grid with his new place at haas, he had been quick to hand the reins of the prank war to his young apprentice. pietro fittipaldi intended to take his job very seriously, and was already dividing the teams for the 2023 season.

"psst, i'll still be around." y/n said, hopping down from the bed. "someone's gotta keep piastri in check. and who else is going to remind you all just how fuckable your bosses are."

"ugh, never say those words again, i beg you!" antonio begged. "if i ever hear you talk about 'daddy mattia' again, i swear i will put a laxative in your drink, just like i did to steiner."

the laxative stunt had won giovinazzi eight points, but at what cost? guenther had been pissed off for the rest of the weekend, and there had been a smell lingering around the haas motorhome despite f1's best efforts at cleaning it up.

y/n just laughed, holding out her plastic solo cup. "hit me, fittipaldi. i want as much champagne as can fit in this glass."

pietro shook his head, but abided the testing driver's request, filling the solo cup up to the line.

"what do you say that we make this night a little more interesting?" jack doohan proposed, looking over at oscar and y/n out of the corner of his eye.

the two young adults were sitting directly next to each other, their knees touching through their jeans. and then jack suddenly had the best worst idea ever.

he turned to liam, lowering his voice and whispering something into the kiwi's ear before they both burst out into sly grins.

"oi, fitti, how much champagne is left in that bottle?"

pietro frowned, looking at the green glass bottle in his hands. "like, a third. why?"

"just drink it so we can use the bottle." liam suggested, offering up his own solo cup. "pour the rest of it in here."

"nope." robert schwartzman cut in. "liam, i refuse to deal with your drunk ass again. that can be somebody else's problem today."

as pietro passed off the bottle, nico met liam's shit eating grin. still chuckling to himself, the red bull junior nodded in the direction of oscar and y/n, who were signing the nineties song blasting from pietro's phone in a very tipsy, our of key way. but somehow, they were perfectly in tune with each other, even if their rendition of 'hot in herre' didn't match up with one nelly was singing on the other end of the phone speaker.

nico's eyes widened as he watched jack set up the bottle in the middle of the circle.

they were going to play spin the bottle, but with the number of men outweighing the number of women, it was a set up for chaos. but even more than that, it was supposed to be a way to get two very specific lovesick idiots to finally admit how they felt about each other.

"who's ready for spin the bottle?!" liam shouted, being met with cheers from some of the other guys. guys who just wanted to see something really stupid that they could use as blackmail material.

but nobody missed how oscar and y/n instinctually moved away from each other as pietro shut the music off, a dusting pink on their cheeks as y/n moved to put jamie in between her and oscar.

"aren't we a little old for this?" stoffel vandoorne sighed. "we are grown ass adults."

liam shrugged. "you don't have to play if you don't want to."

"and let you jackasses have all the fun?"

"i say trophy bearer over there goes first." jack proposed, pointing at y/n.

nobody missed the way that her eyes flicked to oscar, nerves settling in her stomach. it was fine, she told herself. there was no way that the bottle would land on oscar. and next year, she'd be in a different paddock and her heart could cool down from all the ways that the aussie used to make it race.

taking a deep breath, she leaned forward to spin the empty trento bottle, nails scraping against the label. she closed her eyes, sitting back on her heels and crossing her fingers behind her back that god would be on her side.

hoping and praying that it wouldn't land on oscar.

and because her eyes were still closed, she didn't have a chance to watch jack nudge his foot into the circle, stilling the bottle's movements so that it landed on oscar piastri.

oscar's face flushed pink as he leaned back against the bed. next to him, liam and jack cheered, as did nico from the other side of the circle.

"oscar and y/n!" the german cheered. "now where's the closet? we're playing full seven minutes in heaven, out here we'll set the timer. you kids have fun." nico winked

trying not to make eye contact with each other, oscar and y/n got to their feet, slowly walking over to the closet like they had been sentenced to the gallows.

"ladies first." oscar coughed out, sliding the mirrored door open and allowing y/n to slip inside the confined space. the future mclaren driver followed her inside.

they stood less than two feet apart, breaths heavy.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to." oscar said quietly. "nico is a jackass. we can just stand here and talk for seven minutes."

"oscar," she cut him off. "i need to tell you something." the time for being a coward was over. she wasn't going to be here next year. if oscar didn't feel the same, at least she wouldn't have to deal with seeing his stupid, pretty face every day. "i'm not coming back next year. vasseur told me that management is changing, and that the new guy isn't likely to keep me around if i'm never going to drive competitively again. i'm going to andretti, oscar. i'm going to be a formula e reserve in 2023."

"what? what do you mean you went to andretti?" oscar's voice was faint as he stared at her, his eyes slowly moving from her plump, pink lips, down to her tiny black garage top, the lace of her bralette peeking through the deep-cut collar, her cleavage on perfect display.

if he was ever going to do something with his feelings, now would be the time.

but y/n didn't even give him the chance, pressing up on her toes to smash her lips to oscar's, his hands flying to her waist. it was a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as oscar pushed her back against the wall.

sometimes, a kiss could say more than words.

she moaned as oscar's hands squeezed her thighs through her army green flare pants, the aussie taking that moment to gently slip his tongue in between her lips. her fingers carded at his hair, gently pulling a small handful, eliciting a growl from the driver's throat before he changed his area of focus, hungrily kissing her neck.

y/n gasped at the feeling, a sensation made double as oscar's cold hands touched her skin, teasing the bottom of her shirt, running over her toned stomach.

"oscar." she whined, feeling a familiar ache in between her thighs. in the back her mind, she wondered if they were nearing the end of their seven minutes.

or if nico had even bothered to count.

they got their answer when a harsh knock on the closet door startled oscar so much that he tripped on his own feet, falling to the carpeted floor.

"time's up, kiddos!" stoffel shouted from the other side. "make yourselves decent and then get your asses back out here."

getting decent would be difficult: her hair was a mess, a hickey already forming on the side of her neck, and there was definitely a bulge in oscar's jeans that wasn't there when the duo entered the closet.

"fuck." she mumbled, resting her head against the wall. "what do we do?"

"it's my room." oscar reminded. "i can just kick them out, and we can finish what we started."

"good plan." y/n agreed, throwing the closet door open.

the pair stumbled out, and oscar found himself tugging the tails of his button up shirt over his crotch, hoping that nobody could tell how massively turned on he was.

"everybody out!" he shouted. "this night has been incredible, but i'm very tired and have things to do in the morning." he lied blatantly, dragging dennis and jack to their feet.

logan gave him a very confused look. "the fuck? tomorrow is race day? they don't need any of us."

"logan." jamie said gently "read the room."

it took the american a minute as the rest of the reserve drivers groaned, abandoning their night of champagne and debauchery. or at least, relocating it from oscar's room. but when the pieces clicked in his mind, his eyes went wide. "what the fuck? you're kicking us out so you can fuck, aren't you?"

"ew!" robert shouted. "god, you guys are terrible!"

jack and liam just winked at each other as they slipped into the hallway, thankful that their plan had worked, and that the two would finally stop being idiots around each other.

"yes, now get the fuck out unless you want to watch." y/n concluded, kicking theo pourchaire in the back to try and get him to stand up.

"wait, live porn is an option? i'll hide in the closet, i swear you won't even know that i'm there!" pietro shouted, half joking and half not as oscar pushed him through the doorframe.

"out!" oscar shouted again, holding the door open as all of the drivers walked out in single file.

"call us in the morning and tell us all about it, love." jessica winked at y/n as she and jamie followed stoffel out.

"oh of course." y/n agreed. "see you all in the morning. or not!" she shouted down the hallway before oscar closed and locked the door.

they stood toe to toe, soft smiles on their faces.

"hi, lover." she said softly, eyes on his lips.

"hi." he said, just as soft as he pressed his lips to hers. "no, where were we?"

"well, i think you were about to do this." she hummed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

oscar's eyes darkened at the sight. the lacy black bralette was even better now that he could see all of it, the halter strap sweeping up around the back of neck. as she spun around, he could see the thin strap draping low down on her back.

"god, you're beautiful." he rasped.

she wasn't prepared for how deep his voice was going to get, but it thrilled her to no end, knowing that she'd had that effect on oscar this entire time.

"you know what makes it even better?" she lowered her voice, pretending to be distracted as she started to undo the buttons on oscar's shirt. "i'm wearing a matching thong."

"bed, now." oscar insisted, sweeping her off her feet.

it was going to be a looong night.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mclaren formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #lovelytsunodas katy perry series

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justaredheadf1fan · 1 year

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What the hell was this, Australia?

Sup people!

No, I did not wake up to watch Quali at 7am. I mean, I could still be asleep but here we are 🤣

Quali - Saturday

Let's see what this mess of a weekend takes us now.

Sargeant having some trouble there. CHECO GOES OFF. YES!!!!! Red Flag and it's a RBR. Life is good. He'd been having a tone of trouble during FP3. But why is it never his damn teammate!?

That was a rather quick one, pretty quiet so far apart from the Checo snafu. Sharl is going through it apparently, poor boy is struggling.

Q1 is coming to an end and expectations are running wild at the moment.

Merc babies please proceed to move your asses out of the drop-out zone, I'm about to have a heart attack. LOL LANCE P1. There we go, babe!

I was gonna say "the Ferraris are fighting!" but I see Sharl getting P1 from Stroll and Carlos just being around. And Norris keeps just going off track like he's talking a walk.

That bird has been reborn after that near miss 🤣 How on Earth is Nico right there on the top? He's doing quite a good job lately. Lewis joining the party right at the end.

The battle begins, I know how this ends but seeing it myself hours later feels exactly as exciting as it would've at 7am.

LEWIS GOES P1!!! Shame it just lasts for a minute, but God does it feel right!

Rain is on the way and there's just time for one last push. Okay I believe I've just seen the reason why Sharl was all salty right after Quali.

What the fuck was Nico doing? Shit and Alonso gets P2, Jesus this is a fucking nailbiter!! But here come the Merc boys, right the last second they make it!! God, what is this!!!!!

Just watched the interviews post Quali and it's so funny how Lewis and George are so in sync for everything, including leaving Sid the sloth behind without missing a beat 🤣 I love to see it, why lie about it.

More of this stuff tomorrow I hope, it's an amazing start, way better than I anticipated, so hoping for the good stuff again.

Race - Sunday

G'day everyone, I'm dead right now. Why is it so early? 🥹

This is about to start now, and I can't be any happier that McLaren is looking so bad. Well deserved.

It's go time. GEORGE TAKES P1, SHARL OFF TRACK TO THE GRAVEL AND LEWIS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE GETS P2!!!!!! Safety Car coming out after Lance pushed Sharl off track to the gravel. Boy what a start!

Fraudstappen (yes, I'm coming back to this because he deserves it) complaining on the radio about Lewis pushing him out. Are you fucking kidding me? You fuck up the start because every time you have Lewis close you lose your shit and then you can't even defend your position, so "he pushed you off". Go fuck yourself.

That said, even Carlos had a better start. Quite impressive. But why does everything bad always happening to Charles? It's so unfair, my baby does not deserve this.

George shut up. Please, I love you a lot but lately you're getting on my nerves. Yes, Lewis is attacking, he's come to take no prisoners. But that's Lewis Hamilton you're talking about and last time you fucked around and you might just find out now.

ALBON IS OUT! SAFETY CAR DEPLOYED FOR THE SECOND TIME IN LESS THAN 10 LAPS! AND LEWIS IS P1, STOP THE COUNT! STOP THE FUCKING COUNT! And this turns into a Red Flag.

My, poor Sharl. So unfair. Why can't he have something nice? What is it that he has to do? Oh God and that camera angle from Nico????? Scary as fuck tbh.

So, it's a Standing Start now. I'm scared but I know Lewis can do this with his eyes closed. Alonso just behing Cuntstappen, this calls for a crash between the two. IN ALONSO WE TRUST.

COME ON LEWIS, HERE WE GO. FERNANDO FOR FUCK'S SAKE GET THE MORON. The restart is being investigated now due to half the cars stopping in the same spot. Jesus.

DRS enabled and Alonso flopped. I hate this. I mean, who wouldn't catch the leader with an illegal car? No surprises. But still he cries when he's been passed fair and square. Asshole. How is it possible getting 2 SECONDS in HALF a lap? And no team complains or does anything? It's unbelievable.

So Alonso suddenly has pace again and it's just in time to get to Lewis, but he "couldn't" do anything to catch Fraudstappen. What a surprise.

GEORGE HAS FIRE ON THE BACK OF HIS CAR. LEWIS ALL ALONE NOW, SHIT. He had to stop at the exit of the pit lane and it's now closed. Facing a VSC now. It's 3 cars down so far today. Shit Australia, don't make it worse now.

Back to racing again, just hope Alonso flops the same way he does agains the idiot. This feud with Lewis (only Lewis) is just uncalled for. He's the only driver he's doing this with. Never fights Cuntstappen but Lewis appears and it's his time to start doing something every single time.

At least if anyone can manage the tyres and do a fantastic job defending his position, that's Lewis. I just wish he could catch Sid the Sloth again and slap him in the face, but as I said, with an illegal car even the rest of us could win that easily.

Alonso back to playing his game again. Can this race please end already? This has been enough. I'm dying here. And Carlos... Yes, that overtake on Pierre was fantastic but he manages that once every 8 races? He's above Sharl on sheer luck, not because he deserves anything, same as his seat in Ferrari, purely because of his last name, because he shouldn't be there, he's done nothing really worthy of getting a Ferrari seat. And I'll die on this hill.

Lewis setting Fastest Lap twice is just something worth watching. Other than this, I really want to go back to sleep, this is bullshit.

I hope Pierre catches Carlos, he deserves it. Cuntstappen going off to the grass and losing 3 full seconds. Can't he just have a PU problem? Can't care enough either about Norris getting passed Nico. McLaren needs to flop 100%.

KEVIN NO!!!! HE HAS A FAILURE AND HAS TO STOP ON TRACK. SAFETY CAR DEPLOYED. He's lost a wheel too!? I can't believe this. Will they finish under SC at the race that Masi's watching? Or will they race until the end? RED FLAG. AND IT'S A STANDING START? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!

I'm sorry but no. This is fucking stupid and unacceptable. It's so clear. They set the precedent in Abu Dhabi and they just feel like they can do it all over again anytime they feel like it. Un-fucking-believable. This sport is so unserious.

God, I hate this shit. I can't cross any more fingers right now. AND YESSSSSS CARLOS HITS FERNANDO!!!!!!! NOOOO ESTEBAN AND PIERRE NO!!!!!! ANOTHER RED FLAG!!!!

And this is what happens when the FIA does whatever they want to fuck around with one driver. They put every single one of them at risk, because on a 2-lap race everyone will risk it. Fucking morons, this could've been avoided by not restarting or just by restarting under SC (which would've been nonsense too tbh). This is shameful.

Now what? We don't have any news from Esteban and Pierre, are they even okay? I really do, that was so unlucky for both of them. Shame they had to pay for this bullshit. We need a body to control the FIA. I'm sorry but they shouldn't be in charge on their own anymore. This is absolutely stupid, dangerous and someone will get killed again if they keep acting like this. They can't be trusted.

So I guess it'll be a rolling start and it'll end up the way it's looking now? God I should've never got up to watch this 🤣 In the mean time, Lewis is vibin' and Toto is making friends. Please, let this be done.

5-second penalty for Carlos for hitting Alonso. All in favor of Carlos crashing against Fernando, but the penalty is well deserved. The FIA should've done this differently once again? absolutely. But fuck him anyway 🤷🏻‍♀️ He's the one that's caused everything on that restart, directly and indirectly.

That said, something was just brought to my attention through here as the restart appears on my screen. A certain individual was not positioned correctly at the restart. Guess who? And guess what will happen? Nothing. I do hope Mercedes and Aston Martin complain. I mean, they were super tough about this exact thing with both Esteban and Fernando, but now they're gonna give a pass to this person? That's unexpected, huh?

The only thing in this world making all of this worth is Lewis' smile. Seriously, we don't deserve him. Especially Mercedes right now, but that's a whole other story. The Cool Down room giving us one of those unexpected moments between Lewis and Alonso. It's funny, actually.

It's finally over, I just need to go back to sleep before I pull my hair out after this shit. Good thing it's another 2 weeks before the next one. This is not the sport I used to love, in all seriousness. This is just a circus. There's no sport in this left.

Peace out!

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morganas-pendragons · 2 years

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My Thoughts On Halo Infinite

So before I write the mother of opinions on this game, just a couple of things to note. I've been playing Halo since 2005-2006. I've always been someone who gets rather invested into stories, and this one was absolutely no exception considering the fact that: It mentions my favorite Halo game multiple times, and incorporates a character we technically have never seen in canon who is extremely crucial to John's character development as a young Spartan to this legend who has outlived virtually everyone he has ever loved.

Without further ado... my thoughts on Halo Infinite! spoilers for the campaign below.

EDIT: I’m finishing this in the midst of my second playthrough, so I’ve added more!

First off, let me tell you I was really skeptical about this at first. My brother and father didn't bother playing Halo 5 because I told them almost immediately how terrible the gameplay was and the story as well, and I played it twice before never going back to play it again. It was awful and the fans knew it was awful but after those Believe tv spots for Infinite were released I was like... okay. Okay, you've got my attention. Maybe I can give this a try and pray it's better then the previous.

If you're a veteran, this game was either one of your favorites or one of your least favorites. It's in my top 3. Halo 3, Infinite, and then Reach. And to be candid... the sole reason for it is because this is the only Halo game that takes the time to write an intricate and heartbreaking story about John's character and how Cortana and he are wound around each other.

There has not been one Halo game solely focusing on John. That's my biggest praise of Infinite in particular, the amount of effort and time they spent into doing something they'd never done before for a widely beloved character who grew leaps and bounds in this game.

Before I get into the thick of it, let me give my immediate likes and dislikes. The graphics are gorgeous. The NPC dialogue is so funny that I found myself in tears over it multiple times. The open world was a wonderful idea and prolongs the game for more enjoyment. The campaign story was extremely well written and bitter sweet by the end, but beautiful all the same. The music is new in its own right but incorporates music from the previous soundtracks.

Cons: No coop, no Arbiter OR The Swords of Sanghelios, you get no indication where Blue Team is unless you find the Audio Logs (which is stupid and the whole reason why they shouldn't have introduced them if they were just going to go away again) and that's literally it because I loved every aspect of this game LOL

Now, to the story.

We all know that John was indoctrinated from the age of six years old by Catherine Halsey who had chosen him and 70 some other children to, putting it candidly, be the saviors of humanity. He and a few others were the sole survivors of the Spartan 2’s. This also includes Blue Team. He, however, was deemed as one from the start who would outshine the others and serve a far greater purpose past being just a Spartan.

People are constantly talking about him. He has the highest rank in the miltary and exceeds the expectations placed upon him. But sometimes those expectations get to be too much, you know?

That’s made obvious when we see his first real defeat - where the bad guy wins - when Atriox beats the absolute crap out of John and everything goes to hell in a matter of months.

John goes MIA for six months and is pronounced dead. His world drastically shifts under his feet when he wakes up to the elated Pilot who believes the return of the Master Chief is the ticket he needs to be able to go home. The UNSC doesn’t exist anymore, and Cortana is dead.

The relationship between John and Fernando is stellar for so, so many reasons. It’s one of the only relationships I can think of in game besides maybe Miranda and Johnson and Lasky where John is treated less like a soldier and more like a person.

I’ve said this multiple times about the Halo show, and it applies here too. The whole purpose of Cortana for the Master Chief was initially to be advising with logistical and tactical advice on the battlefield. What she ended up teaching him in addition to that was how to be human.

Something he would’ve never learned to do - and attempted to exercise in Infinite - had they not met.

Removing the armor in the show is meant to show you, the viewer, that John is getting to the point where he’s trying desperately to grasp onto the little humanity he’s been permitted to experience.

In the game, this is shown mostly through his interactions with The Weapon and the scene in the UNSC graveyard with The Pilot.

Case in point...

“I don’t know how you keep doing this.”

“I don’t have a choice. Maybe it’s my programming.” - John to The Weapon, Halo Infinite

“Let me know when you figure out which one of us is the machine.” Cortana to John, Halo 4

He’s being forced to face something he’s never been allowed to face before: Grief. He’s grieving Cortana, as he says many times through the countless mentions of If I had been able to do this, this could’ve been prevented and confessing to the Weapon that so much could’ve been prevented if he had just done more to protect Cortana.

Because that’s what his mission was from the start when she chose him. They were meant to take care of each other, and they did.

He was essentially betrayed by the person who became the one constant in his life, and there is this tiny human part of him that is desperate for relationships enough to the point where he wants to trust The Weapon. He can’t yet.

The whole purpose of John keeping The Weapon at arms length is to protect himself from being hurt again.

And doesn’t that sound familiar?

I love what you as the player have to work through with John in this game. Arguably the best part is at the end where he has the flashbacks of Keyes, meeting Cortana, and their final goodbye in Halo 4. The whole point of that sequence is for you to understand John’s motivations over the last 7 years of canon and the depths of the loss he has experienced.

Samuel. Cortana. Lasky. Halsey (probably, hopefully) both Jacob and Miranda Keyes, Avery Johnson... could LITERALLY keep going.

No one should have to go through that much tragedy in less then 10 years. Literally everyone - outside of Blue Team, because it’s never confirmed if they’re actually dead or not, but i highly doubt it - is gone or deceased. That crap hurts.

There are multiple sequences I could talk about here but the biggest thing I want to mention for people who have never read the novels is that you need to know about Samuel. The first loss, the worst loss, and one John carries with him for decades after the fact.

In the scene where John nearly deletes The Weapon, he's asked to give three confirming phrases to the interface in his armor for confirmation.

What You Need To Know About Red Flag

034 - Samuel's Spartan Number.

Samuel - The final member of Blue Team who sacrificed himself to save them when John was barely sixteen years old, just in the first months of humanity's struggle with the covenant.

I didn't have a clue that Fall of Reach existed until I came across it on Youtube last year. Turns out most of Cortana's lines from Halo 3 before you find her on High Charity are things that John has heard over the course of his life! And let me tell you... the way I screamed when I heard all of these again after 14 years.... they just hold so much weight.

To put it shortly if you don't want to watch the movie: Samuel was John's first loss and one part of many reasons of why he does what he does. The movie itself is a fantastic service to John's character and I highly recommend watching it.

This game is fantastic. Say what you want, love whichever Halo you desire, but the depth of the emotional journey that goes into the main storyline for this game is the best out of all of them besides maybe Reach. Reach is the only other Halo game where you just.. lose. And there’s not anything you can do about it.

John lost. He can’t do anything about it. He can try to rebuild the little that is left of the UNSC.. and he can hope it’s enough.

At least he has people now. Because that will make it enough.

#Halo Infinite #Halo meta #Halo #halo: infinite

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agp · 20 days

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happy birthday shann ali have a poutine with me i bet we could get ceasefires in ukraine and palestine by the end of the week. someone find my ex i bet shes still on here with the fire emblem crowd lucina is my fucking life story that my mom keeps interfering with. my mom is robin and lissa is with the parents. and ali wont listen. she showed me tumblr and i showed her how tumblr really works. the end of the world is here and i bet shes the second coming. the odds are significant on alison. and the other alys too. i have exes from the future im trying to be chill about. like i said lucina is my problem.

my mother committed suicide 15 years ago on april fools (ikr). shes funny this one. she would disappear with the military for 15 years like this to get me to wake up. or find whoever i need to find. stop trying to bring about the rapture everyone whats your problem with judaism and islam? i wanna convert to islam!

my problem is i learned to hide from the best. harry potter is stealing from fred hampton and anne frank over here. we had our order of the phoenix at afnorth without another of the nato brats under the giant stairwell long before rowling was writing about it. idk if she was friends with my mom.

i couldnt journal my life because i knew they would steal that shit and publish that shit. but ali showed me tumblr and i got to journal a little on here and what do you know im still an amateur journalist on tumblr

so omfg when i tell the people making official lists of whos out as what on this hellsite i blow a fucking fuse so hard burkie is answering me back in ten minutes on sunday night. i swear i forgot about his son im just a flames fan who needs the cup in toronto by 2028 and in gaza this fucking summer already. hell bring it to the donbass region too if thats what these assholes want so much. bring hockey back this summer and meet on the ice and the pavement instead of having fun being martyrs with guns tickling the other bear on the other side

austin matthews and aly spaltro are both from arizona and neither of them believe we can bring hockey to palestine. they dont believe in hockey in the desert these two coyotes!! go listen to mitski and pete seeger already. one plays for the leafs and the other probably doesnt even watch the new womens league. its all on youtube!

so maman. line fontaine. fernando. whatever she goes by now. she was making a journal of my life without my consent. idk if she killed herself out of shame at any point but i believe she went into hiding with the government so she could keep her time travelers journal close to her chest and out of other peoples hands. this isnt cool at all mom anne frank is fucking fuming dude you have no idea. good thing im not her and i love my mom. she thinks shes doing us favours by getting our story straight on her end. this jesus bastard needs to wake up on my middle name marie already and stop playing it backwards

maybe it was my mom all along. maybe it was my ex alison. maybe it was my cat. maybe thats what the national were talking about in montreal before they played i need my girl. theyre such pricks and they couldnt stfu about oedipus at the concert ok fine my mom probably wants to fuck my ass and were all adults here and its awkward

you know how it is im trying to avoid her and her favourites and that means everyone :/

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xxskycrystalxx · 2 years

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ADOW Season 3 Thoughts [Spoilers Heavy]

Finally finished ADOW S3 and wow. Just wow. Still in shock that it’s over but here are my thoughts on the last season. (also, I have not read the third book yet, so I will make another post afterwards, this will be based on show only)

Bishmont will forever and always be a part of me, I love them to death and I think that this season wrapped up their story well enough (gotta read time’s convert soon). Their love story is one of the best I’ve seen (and read), Matthew & Teresa did an absolutely wonderful and fantastic job of portraying them both and their love for one another. Chemistry is off the charts, and there were plenty of moments/nuances between them, that I loved this season. Their “goodbye” to each other at ep. 6 and Matthew waking up brought some tears to my eyes, and THAT scene in ep. 5 ;) And the birth of the twins!!!! They did it so well, I think the birthing is my favorite thing of s3 ngl (tho Ysabeau should’ve been there), and that dance at the end was just perfect~! Besides the fact that it was funny how they were casually dancing and making out while everyone else was just doing their own thing, I guess you can say they’re in their own world ;) Also them being parents just warms my heart, so many “aww” moments.

Matthew calling Diana mon coeur and ma lionne has set the standards for me, because I mean c’mon how can it not?

Miriam & Chris? I SHIP THEM SO HARD, they had really good chemistry in the short amount of scenes we see them in, I’m not sure if it’s like that in the books but I’m going to stick with it.

Chris & Fernando really came in and said “people love us” and there’s no doubt about that.

Jack having blood rage surprised me a bit but I got over it real quick. He’s like a bean with anger issues lol but still a bean.

Idk if we were supposed to feel pity for Benjamin but I surely didn’t.

Satu really became the next Peter Knox huh? Sorry (NOT) but she had it coming.

Phoebe & Marcus? C U T E!! Can’t wait to read Time’s Convert. Truth be told, I liked them way more in S3 than in S2 for some reason and I have no idea why....

Baldwin was iffy to me. He’s literally such a jerk but he’s not a bad guy. Liked him so much more towards the end of the season, I liked the moments between him and Matthew, and him and Ysabeau.

Gallowglass, dear dear Gallowglass. My poor boi. Tbh, him liking Diana was kind of out of nowhere to me? I never really got that sense from him while watching the show (maybe in the books it’s more fleshed out), but I rlly just felt bad for him because he’s pining for someone he can never have. If I didn’t like Matthew as much as I did, I could see him with Diana. He deserves to find happiness for himself so hopefully Deborah will write a book on him? Pretty please? He is one of my favorite characters.

Agatha Wilson, Sarah Bishop, Ysabeau DeClermont, Miriam Sheppard, Phoebe Taylor, Diana Bishop are quite literally ✨BADASS QUEENS ✨

The fights/conclusion of the villains in ADOW was kind of anti-climatic for me. I was kind of expecting more tbh, like with Knox I didn’t think he’d be taken out just like that, Benjamin.... was kind of expecting the others to take him down but I’m fine with how he went out with Diana and her Goddess’s arrow, and with Satu... was expecting some actual fight? But then again Diana is so overpowered at this point that I shouldn’t have expected much LMAO

The magic moments never fail to excite and amaze me.

Ransom and Geraldine, would’ve liked to see more of them.

Domenico coming through at the end was great.

The twins!! Rebecca & Philip are precious and will grow up with lots of love. That moment at the Christening when the priest was asking about the God parents and like 10 people stood up had me laughing, but it was great. Also, I’m still a bit puzzled on what the twins actually are. I know Rebecca is a vampire? And Philip is a witch? But it seems like they’re both? But it wasn’t really specified, or did I just miss it and is actually dumb? LOL

Marcus & Matthew & Jack: Matthew has much to make up for and improve on (he is quite a flawed character but he’s trying to be better), but I think he’s a good father-ish (with Jack, but he needs to be way better for Marcus) and will be a better one with the twins. Loved seeing his moments with his sons, and he looks way too good with babies <333

Diana’s outfit when going to the Congregation? ABSOLUTELY STUNNING and Agatha becoming the new leader? As she should.

Good ol’ Hamish.

Timothy deserved better and Philip should’ve been alive to see the twins.

The DeClermont family is the best family. (problematic but also very wholesome)

Overall, though difficult to come in terms that ADOW has ended, the season was a good one and a good conclusion to the story. Thank you to Deborah Harkness for creating these characters and story that we know and love and to the wonderful and irreplaceable cast that played them. Thank you to Matthew Goode and Teresa Palmer for giving us such a impactful performance and giving us Matthew & Diana. I hope to see you guys work together again.

“It begins with absence and desire. It begins with blood and fear. It begins with a discovery of witches.”

“In every ending, there is a new beginning.”

#a discovery of witches #adow #adow 3 #my thoughts #diana bishop #matthew de clairmont #matthew goode #teresa palmer #wasn't going to write this much but once i started i couldnt stop #its been a great journey #adow will always have a special place in my heart #adow spoilers

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deputychairman · 2 years

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List the first lines of your last 20 stories. See if there are any patterns and choose your favourite opening line!

Tagged by the inimitable @cicaklah ! It’s an interesting exercise; i realise i definitely don’t invest in one single knockout opening line, and if there are any patterns it would be that my openers fill the function of “in this essay i will” - they set up that this is a concluded story with an ending, told by someone who knows the ending. Could be interesting to get away from that and try a different narrative structure, but at the same time that sounds like so much work?

“It started with emails, and he just never expected anything so mundane.” (Fool me twice) A thematically appropriate mundane opener?

“The first time you speak to him alone, when it’s not an audition and there’s no one watching, he jumps.” (The physics of mass and velocity) idk why I did the open and close to this fic in 2nd person but I just think it works, ok. References a much referenced encounter, but makes it intimate again? So different from all the others that it might actually be my favourite.

“In 1984 he won the Valley’s most famous karate match on a fluke – or did he?” (Daniel LaRusso, karate, and the soul of the San Fernando Valley) Sounds like clickbait, was supposed to sound like clickbait – possibly I put more thought into this first line because my POV journalist would also have put more thought into it?

“Waking up with Daniel LaRusso in his bed is really fucking weird.” (Like a coastal shelf) Sets the scene, gets to the point but otherwise meh. Although good echo of previous story’s opening line, which is also Johnny waking up in his own bed and being surprised by the person he finds there.

“There’s an old Asian guy standing at the end of his bed when Johnny wakes up, frowning at him like he’s a disappointment to him, personally.” (Anabasis) A little bit funny and better than the above. Also sets up a good joke in the next line.

“It was weirdly easy to convince LaRusso sneaking into the All Valley Sports Arena at night was a good idea, and maybe that should have tipped him off.” (In the arena) I like the warning of impending something, and the implication that these are people who do not openly discuss things that it might be a good idea to discuss.

“Amanda opens the front door to hear yelling coming from the kitchen.” (Sometimes there is a luxurious amount of time (before anything bad happens)) I was proud of this fic and the writing but this is a weak first line. I knew it at the time but it was just too much like hard work to think of a better one.

“Anthony LaRusso pushes open the door to the guest room to take a fancy white towel he’s not supposed to touch, and trips over a pair of boots.” (The morning after the night before) Another opening door? Move on already. But I like the rhythm of it and Johnny’s boots disrupting life in the LaRusso house just as Johnny disrupts life for LaRusso pere.

“If he’d known Amanda wasn’t going to come, Daniel would never have suggested to Johnny that they go in the first place.” (High School Reunion, class of '85) A pattern is starting to occur to me: I use the tags, summary and author’s note as my marketing material (ugh), so I’m not really asking the first line to do much work. These are all REALLY weak out of context, but does that matter when people are reading them IN context? If I want to half-ass my fic, who’s gonna stop me, the Fanfic Effort Police?

“Rosalind became the Countess de Stael when she was nineteen years old, and even then she knew she’d been lucky.” (the other half of his life) Functional! But the tags and the excerpt I used for the summary were great.

“It was highly gratifying to be approached by not one, not two, but three beautiful women together who apparently just adored his music.” (La belle au bois dormant) It works, nice rhetorical flourish that suits the character, ‘apparently’ is working hard there.

“The path down from the mountains was steep and the stones slid treacherously underfoot, and it took all Jaskier’s concentration to get down without falling.” (A history of dragons in popular culture) Workmanlike, should have avoided repeating ‘down’; there must be 10000 Witcher fics out there that open in a similar way. Again, the excerpt I chose for the summary was much stronger. And that’s why I chose it.

“In hindsight, there had been clues. One of them was in the British Museum, in the Mesopotamia room.” (is that your flaming sword (or are you just pleased to see me)) All the way back to Good Omens already! Apparently I like the ‘in hindsight’ construction for my first lines, I’ve used it since even if not in so many words. For a certain length of story with a certain degree of conclusion to be had, it works. Sets up the let me tell you a story which is complete vibe.

“After She’d done her first six days of work and decided that it was all Good, the Almighty wasn’t given much to editorialising.” (a design for life) C’mon, I’m mildly amusing. Sensible chuckle-worthy. Good imitation of the Gaiman & Pratchett writing style.

“For many years, the King’s Cross area of London was known for its grim and noisy railway station and the drug addicts and sex workers who frequented the streets around it, which also boasted a handful of insalubrious nightclubs and a cinema known as the Sodom Odeon.” (the technology is neutral) I was writing about the Scala cinema and Kings Cross as much as Crowley and Aziraphale, and the opening line does reflect that.

“On the Tuesday after the apocalypse wasn’t, they went to the theatre.” (the first week of the rest of their lives) I like the contrast of the very human concepts of Tuesday and theatre with the huge religious concept of apocalypse.

“It wasn’t at all what he was expecting Aziraphale to say over the second bottle of champagne after their truly spectacular lunch at the Ritz.” (the sublime physical manifestation of divine love) Barely makes sense when taken alone! Obviously first lines are followed by second and third lines so that’s ok.

“A successful thief knows how to leave the past behind, and Peter Nureyev is not just successful, he’s exceptional.” (theories of (in)secure attachment) Look at that, a first line that does stand alone! I guess I can do it when I want to.

“There is no Resistance any more.” (scenes from a revolution) ah, Star Wars of my heart, back when we still thought they knew Finn was the main character.

Sleep like unconsciousness, dreams that are closer to hallucination. That’s what he chiefly remembers from that time as they escape. (the fall of rome) yes this is two lines but they fitted on one line. I like the backwards construction of somebody very tired, the detail before the context.

Would love to read other people’s, if you’re reading this you are invited to participate and I’d especially love to hear from @bomberqueen17 @aimmyarrowshigh (i know you’ve done a tonne of drabbles so you’re probably hyper aware of every word you write!) @ted-imgoingmad @an-sceal @thorniest-rose @trinityofone @some-stars @nomercyonlytears if you enjoy doing this sort of thing! An excellent displacement activity, for sure.

#first lines #fic meme

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mancalledmxlice · 3 years

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Honorable Mentions: Somebody to Love- Queen//Fernando- Abba

War Pig: Damien Blackwell Playlist

Option 1: we’re looking to highlight the differences between your canon mythology character and the oc you’ve created and built around them. for side a, include songs that apply to the myth, for side b, songs about your own character

Side A: Deimos

War Pigs- Black Sabbath

Time will tell on their power minds Making war just for fun Treating people just like pawns in chess Wait 'till their judgment day comes, yeah!

Another Way Out- Hollywood Undead

You better run, better run, better run, yeah I'm coming after you When you're sleeping at night, yeah there's nothing you can do There's no place you can hide cause I'm coming after you

Street Fight- Adam Jensen

Try to break me, but I can't break I'm a bad dream, and you can't wake Nothing's gonna kill me, nothing's gonna stand in my way

Everything Black- Unlike Pluto

In a nocturnal state of mind Children of the night But it's the only way alive This black hole's pulling me inside Of this black heart, this black soul Underneath this black, black sky

Brain Damage- Pink Floyd

The lunatic is in my head The lunatic is in my head You raise the blade, you make the change You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane

Look What You’ve Done- Jet

Give me back my point of view 'Cause I just can't think for you I can hardly hear you say What should I do, well you choose

Gladiator- Zayde Wolf

Let me back it up to the start of the climb Faced with an army of vipers and lions I had to keep on reaching up 'cause it was my time To tear down the kingdom and call out the liars

Can’t go to Hell- Sin Shake Sin

Turn that fear into a souvenir The world is waiting and the hour's near So if you need a reason, if you need a sign Open up you're eyes, you'll see they stole your water, turned it into wine

Metal Health (Bang Your Head)- Quiet Riot

Bang your head Wake the dead We're all metal mad It's all you have So bang your head And raise the dead

Ain’t No Grave- Johnny Cash

Well, look way down the river And what do you think I see I see a band of angels And they're coming after me

Wreak Havoc- Skylar Grey

I herd 'em like cattle Cause I'm surrounded by cowards And I don't give a fuck when I walk into battle And that's why I got all the power I'm where you wanna be Ain't no one ahead of me All of my enemies made a decision It's better to follow me

Who Are You, Really- Mikky Eiko

Now you're moving idle and you say you're alone Suspicious that the string is moving your bones We are the fire, we see how they run See how they run, lift me higher, let me look at the sun Look at the sun and once I hear them clearly, say

Bad to the Bone- George Thorogood and the Destroyers

The head nurse spoke up Said "leave this one alone" She could tell right away That I was bad to the bone

For What It’s Worth- Buffalo Springfield

Paranoia strikes deep Into your life it will creep It starts when you're always afraid Step out of line, the man come and take you away

Ohio- Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young

Gotta get down to it Soldiers are cutting us down Should have been done long ago.

God’s Gonna Cut You Down- Johnny Cash

Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand Workin' in the dark against your fellow man But as sure as God made black and white What's done in the dark will be brought to the light

Side B: Damien

War- Edwin Starr

Oh, war has shattered many a young man's dreams Made him disabled, bitter and mean Life is much too short and precious to spend fighting wars these days War can't give life, it can only take it away

Hurt- Johnny Cash

I wear this crown of thorns Upon my liar's chair Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair

Pretty Fly For a White Guy- The Offspring

Friends say he's trying too hard And he's not quite hip. But in his own mind He's the—he's the dopest trip.

Funny the Way it is- Dave Matthews Band

The way your mouth feels in your lover's kiss Like a pretty bird on a breeze, or water to a fish The bomb blast brings the building crashing to the floor Hear the laughter while the children play war

For Your Love- The Yardbirds

For your love, for your love I would give the stars above For your love, for your love I would give you all I could

My Mirror Speaks- Death Cab For Cutie

And when my mirror speaks it never minces words 'Cause these eyes don't shine half as bright As they used to do and they haven't for quite a while

Sleep is for the Weak- The Dreadnoughts

Baltic is at your back You'll head towards the Black Where the river's rising high All along the countryside Enter the hyenas

Viva La Vida- Coldplay

Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listened as the crowd would sing, "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!" One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me

Wish You Were Here- Pink Floyd

How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

Rock and Roll- Led Zepplin

It's been a long time since the book of love. I can't count the tears of a life with no love. Carry me back, carry me back, carry me back, baby, where I come from.

Dear God- XTC

Dear God, sorry to disturb you, but I feel That I should be heard loud and clear We all need a big reduction in amount of tears And all the people that you made in your image, See them fighting in the street 'Cause they can't make opinions meet

When You Were Young- The Killers

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus But he talks like a gentleman Like you imagined When you were young

Train in Vain- The Clash

Now I got a job But it don't pay I need new clothes I need somewhere to stay But without all these things I can do But without your love I won't make it through

Wish I Knew You- The Revivalists

Oh I hope you don't mind We can share my mood Two strangers in the bright lights I wish I knew you I wish I knew you Oh I wish I knew you when I was young

The Weight- The Band

I pulled into Nazareth, was feelin' about half past dead I just need some place where I can lay my head "Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?" He just grinned and shook my hand, "no" was all he said

Hard to Handle- The Black Crows

I have got some good old lovin' And I got some more in store When I get through throwin' it on you You gotta come back for more

Honorable Mentions

Somebody to Love- Queen

I work hard (he works hard) every day of my life I work 'til I ache my bones At the end (at the end of the day) I take home (takes home) my hard-earned pay all (goes home on his own) on my own

Fernando- ABBA

In the firelight Fernando You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar I could hear the distant drums And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar

#theikostask #theikostask01

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livingdatabase · 4 years

Text

dear audience,

the following letters will be read aloud during our performance. nico will read first, then zoe.

these letters will be accessible on this Tumblr during our piece. if you want/need to intake information visually, please feel free to read along in your own browser as we read aloud.

- nico + zoe

___________________________________________________________

dear zoe,

thank you for being in this with me. for sharing yourself with me.

to embark on this journey of friendship with me.

for holding me and allowing+encouraging me to open and trust.

I hope it is reciprocal.

letting go has been a constant practice of mine throughout this. (and always is)

sometimes that feels good sometimes it doesn’t. I have no idea what we are making, but I am getting to know you better through each addition to the database. I stare at your drawings and imagine the moments that they were created. I try to listen to each stroke. I like being in conversation with you. I like the lack of polish here.

I dont exactly know how to share this database with people, I worry that its too slow paced to hold, that we’re unfolding something magical but the constructs of time and performance haven’t made space for us yet. I hope im wrong, but im letting go (again) of any thoughts around this landing, being interesting, being anything.

it is because it is. right?

it is not a product It is not a product It is not a product It is not a product

to be bought and sold

this has become a mantra as we actively stray from the capitalist commodification of art that I have known and worked within my entire life. this is easier said than done, hence my urge to onto the phrase: it is not a product.

I am fascinated by the timeline of our process, but I also feel that it is circular, and sometimes all of the data floats around and talks to each other, and sometimes it lies out flat, corresponding to dates in an order.

I think about how we got here. in my body, it’s a wizard of oz moment, like various happenings swirl around, high above the ground, the gentle tornado makes its way around California, and eventually it spits us both out.

It's not scary, its playful. we are sitting and it’s almost funny the way everything was spinning and now we settle in in stillness/ left to our own devices. left to actually get to know each other for the first time. thats how I see it anyways. we are gifted time and space along the way.

i have decided to share two videos after this.

the first video was also the very first piece of data on the base. haha

I just wanted to share my early morning with you, the title (good morning zoe) was a default that came about when I forgot to give it a title. It feels accurate.

i’ve shared some other clips of my life with you, some that feel so mundane, so regular. none are finished products. It takes a bit of courage to let those be, to not come back to them.

The other video im sharing today was made in my mother’s shower in my childhood home in the San Fernando Valley. It was made with the intention to heal. Out of necessity. It is reminiscent of our first video together, but SO different. The denotative, complex implications of a shower stand, but the experience of this video is one of self-nourishment. a process of lighting myself on fire and putting myself out. of working through. and allowing water to work through me, and I emerge, not squeaky clean, but in a new layer of flesh. still warm/raw, but definitely new.

september totally feels like a beginning to me.

_____________________________________________________

dear nico,

how do we make something without trying to have it be something, other than what it becomes? such a question engages the inherent presence of unknowability in making. how something emerges as it is listened to - heard.

we began this database project recently, and it feels important to acknowledge the history of how we got here. Having separated from a third collaborator and our initial plan of action, and having met each other through this third person, we were left with the question of what connects us? of who are we, as nico and zoe.

where to begin other than in saying hello.

the archive situates our making in conversation with our daily lives. we wanted to practice depressurizing product, or rather, getting rid of it all together, if such an act is even possible. we wanted to untangle ourselves from capitalist values that we have digested as artists.

in other words, we wanted to practice listening to our own bodily senses of time. to make at our own collaborative pace. to acknowledge that everything now is different with the turbulence of multiple pandemics going on. such ruptures in the world, in oppressive systems, have potential to open up spaces for imagination. within such spaces of imagination, can we offer ourselves the pleasure of knowing we are exactly where we need to be? can we ourselves the pleasure of stillness?

because i so often find making to be a relationship with stillness. of course, making is frustrating, hard ,uncertain, and causes me to have some sort of existential question about my purpose in life every day, but even with all of those negotiations, it returns me to a conversation with myself. and such a conversation needs quiet and stillness [ and by quiet i don’t mean a lack of music or sound ]. they need space to be unexpected and unknown.

the world is big and overwhelming, but this project of archiving and sharing small moments of thought, movement, curiosity, of trying to not worry so much about them being polished or perfect, offers our daily lives stillness and forgiveness. we share the unfinished with one another. share our unfinished selves with one another. yet, the idea of finished implies an end, which implies a segment, which implies a breakage in time, a separation of time from itself. in emphasizing the unfinished, are we not opening ourselves up to fluidity?

right now, i am in my one bedroom converted garage, in the back of my family’s house. with quarantine and raging fires, i live all my time in this room. i am writing to you from my bed, the puppy snoozing beside me, tomato plants growing outside, their final bursts of red a reminder of what once was. soon to become an echo of itself, soon to die and return.

i am writing to you from a space of domesticity, which feels like two lives of mine merging.

against the backdrop of my living space, actions such as waking, sleeping, eating, making, and working catch me unawares with a repetition i know has always existed. it is a different kind of meaning making. these small but luxurious tasks of dailiness ground me to the smallness and gratitude of my life, which returns me to the expansiveness of my body.

there is an intimacy that comes with being seen unraveled. it has been hard to not overthink, not worry about producing something good enough. but with you, it also feels like growth. making together is our form of friendship building.

i appreciate all that you share and give. and how you receive my messiness with care.

i trust that we are finding our language together, and i hope to keep sharing our half thoughts, full thoughts, unedited versions, questions, complications, desires, and labors, for as long as feels good.

The video that follows is a little study - - of light and color, pacing and time. Editing footage allows for the expansion of something that can at first, be so small. It makes me think of how you wrote to me in a letter: “ … items that are mostly still, until they come alive.”

i am honored to work with you and learn from you.

love,

zoe

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ohsupernaturall · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1 (Always and forever and in-between)

"To be understood is to prostitute oneself"

— Fernando Pessoa

Song Muse “Just the girl by the click five”

The hierarchy was something to be reckoned upon in tree hill generally and tree hill high specifically; that was the reason Nathan Royal Scott, star shooting guard for the tree hill ravens, son of the infamous loaded Dan Scott and boyfriend of the ever popular cheerleader Peyton Sawyer felt entitled. That was of course before his illegitimate half-brother Lucas turned things around, securing himself a spot in Nathan’s basketball team, and aiming for his girlfriend.

That was why he needed to bring Lucas down a notch or two, and that was where Haley James came into the picture.

Haley James was Lucas’s best friend, has been since they were eight years old, and if she weren’t Nathan probably would have never noticed- nor given her the time of day. She was an over achiever, with the best GPA in the school, a tutor to people doing less than well in school and an employee in Karen’s café- Lucas mother’s Cafe . In short, a nerd, so the idea of her and Nathan crossing paths was highly unlikely.

Until Nathan saw her with peripheral vision as he looked over at Lucas, the girl was so tiny; he felt as though she could fit into his pocket, with a smile too big for this world.

“Hey who is that girl he is always hanging out with?” Nathan asked his own best friend and sidekick Tim.

“Who knows? Why you feel like slumming?” said Tim jokingly, Nathan scrunched up his nose in mock indignation and shoved Tim playfully- as if that would ever happen.

Still his father’s words rang in his head ‘If someone isn’t on his side then they are his opponent, the only way to deal with an opponent is to identify their weaknesses and attack them’

Nathan fully intended to exploit Lucas’ weak points. He followed Tim to their next class.

###

Haley was walking out of the tutor center when she heard someone whispering her name loudly. She stopped dead in her tracks, school was deserted; students had gone home but she stayed later than usual to go through some notes, she had prepared for a D+ student she was tutoring.

“Psst, Hales!” the voice called again and she looked around.

Lucas’ head was peeking out the door of an empty classroom.

“Luke?”

“I need help” said Lucas through gritted teeth.

She moved closer “Wow! Wow! Damn it Lucas. My eyes! What happened?”

Her friend was stark naked, aside from two basketballs giving him some coverage. He looked absolutely pissed. “What do you think happened? Guess who took my clothes in the locker room?”

She sighed loudly; Nathan Scott was the epitome of scum.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Haley asked confused.

“I need clothes!”

“I would be very happy to help you Luke, but I am still wearing mine, and I don’t think they would even fit you”

“Very funny” Lucas dead-panned “just help”

He pushed himself back into the classroom and shut the door.

“So how exactly did that happen?” Haley asked fifteen minutes later, she had run to his house, grabbed something for him to wear and returned to school in record timing

“I took some extra time in the shower” Lucas explained as they walked away together “I came out and all my clothes were gone”

“Enter your savior” she said, giving a fake courtesy.

Lucas chuckled, throwing an arm around Haley. “Well, your damsel in distress is eternally grateful”

###

The tutor center was a place Nathan hasn’t gone to before, but there he was; a paper assigning Haley to be his tutor in his hand. When he signed up, there had been four other tutors available to help him, but he insisted on Haley. That way he was hitting two birds with one stone; first, he actually did need assistance with his grades, if he didn’t improve, he would end up working in his father’s dealership, and second, he would be messing with Lucas big time and that was the best part.

“Hey!” Nathan smiled sweetly as he walked through the door, moving closer to Haley didn’t make her seem any bigger.

Haley stared in what seemed to be confusion and resentment for a split second, before asking “Can I help you?”

“I hope so, you are my tutor”

She eyed him from head to foot before laughing cynically and looking away “Right! I don’t think so”

“You are Haley James, right?” He confirmed, looking down at the paper in his hand. Haley was quick to grab it, huffing in annoyance, and then she saw her name. Perfect, that was just perfect. She was already doing all she could to be a professional and not tell him off for what he was doing to Lucas.

“I am sorry” said Haley “I am best friends with Lucas”

“Well then I am sorry too” joked Nathan.

“Forget it, I will find you someone else” said Haley dismissively.

She attempted to step out when Nathan’s lean form blocked her way “Whoa! Whoa! Look! Look! There is nobody else; I would be fine with it if there was”

“If there were” corrected Haley.

“See you are helping me already”

“Look I can’t help you and on top of that I won’t help you, okay?”

Haley quickly walked away but not before spotting a confused frown crossing his face. He was flabbergasted in fact; it usually took him a much lesser dose of puppy-dog eyes to get what he wanted from a girl.

“Wait” he chased after her and had barely grabbed her arm, before she jerked it away from him, quickly he raised a hand “Sorry, sorry, look I don’t understand”

“Then you do need help, because I made myself loud and clear, I will not help you”

“But Ms. whatever her name is, told me you were available to tutor me”

“Ms. Mckee” she rolled her eyes.

“Right”

“I never said that I didn’t have time. I said I refuse to help you” she spoke every word slowly as though he were an idiot.

“Why?”

“Why?!!” she looked at him in disbelief “How about I make your life miserable in every single way possible, and then you will know why!”

“I don’t even know you”

“Yes, but I know Lucas, and I know what you did to him in the locker room”

Nathan stifled a laugh, she flared her nose “and see there it is, now, excuse me, I need to go”

“No, wait” his face turned serious “Sorry, I just…”

But she was already out the door.

Agitated by his very presence, Haley was thankful the day was over, she all but stomped her way home. He was a major-insufferable-up to no good- jerk and he had every word she said coming, strutting around like he owned the world. Figured he was Dan Scott’s son, though underneath the façade Haley could almost spot remnants of a human being, she almost felt bad; actually she felt terrible; so terrible that her heart ached. Something about him seemed so innocent, young even; she guessed that if he were to murder someone, convicting him was highly unlikely. After all who could suspect the charming boy with bright blue eyes and a coy smile?

“No” she whispered to herself.

On the other hand, Nathan was still scratching his head in confusion; never has any girl talked to him that way, even before his rapid rise to popularity, girls seemed to take an interest in him, he found that out at fourteen when a smoking hot senior, Taylor, pulled him into his room at his parent’s beach house and slept with him, he hadn’t even initiated it. In fact, as he remembered it, he was incredibly nervous, but that seemed to make him even more desirable, adding to the fact that it was also a party held in honor of him joining the varsity team; that was an epic night.

Then there was Peyton, he got to know her shortly after and they talked a lot, soon enough he asked her to be his girlfriend, and they were happy, ‘were’ being the keyword. She was too much, always irritable, cranky and melancholic, so what if he hung out with his friends? She didn’t expect him to devote every waking moment to her. As well as the fact that she was crushing on Lucas, that on its own made his blood boil, she was his girlfriend. During their latest fight they were in his car and she was acting like a total bitch, she threw a fit and decided to walk home; in a beat Nathan threw her pompoms out the window and left her on the side of the street. Sure they were alright now, as alright as it can get anyway, he likes Peyton, she is his girl and the sex is amazing but if she was going to be like that, then he didn’t need the added drama. Which brought him back to Haley, he actually felt ashamed at being scorned by her, he knew he should have retorted, but something about her demanded his respect and he was willing to give it to her; that was new.

###

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Kelly”

“Yes, please, come in Mr. Scott” the teacher peered at him over his glasses.

Nathan moved closer standing at the teacher’s desk, a test held tightly in his hand with a big ‘F’ marked boldly in red.

“So, if this is about my grade…”

“Yes, Mr. Scott, it is in fact about your grade, I assume you are aware that you need to maintain a certain grade point average to be able to participate in any athletic activities”

Nathan rolled his eyes, and spoke through gritted teeth “Yes”

“And you are falling behind, I am afraid you might not be able to play basketball anymore if you don’t turn it around”

“I know” Nathan said annoyed.

“Perhaps you could try tutoring; we have some fine students who are more than willing to help”

He didn’t attempt to even hide his sneer.

The teacher sighed and spoke softly “Listen, Nathan, I know that a young man in your position might find it embarrassing to ask for help, but it beats the alternative, that is if you want to keep your position on the team. You do want that don’t you?”

Nathan nodded briefly.

“Then I think you should go to the tutor center right away, it is the seventh room on your left” he pointed out the door. Nathan grabbed his test, and made for the door.

“If you could” Mr. Kelly interrupted, making him turn around “see if Miss Haley James is available to tutor you, she is quite promising and I am not supposed to show favoritism, but I must admit, she is the best”

Without a word, Nathan clenched his jaw and headed to the tutor center. Not only did Lucas take his spot as shooting guard on the team and his girlfriend’s affections, he was indirectly stealing his entire basketball future all together.

“Hey” Nathan walked in with a melancholic expression “I just wanted to let you know I will be fine”

“Great” responded Haley, carelessly.

“I mean F is for fine, right?”

He lifted his test briefly to show her the grade before turning around and walking away. Haley could only stare after him mouth agape in shock, she stood that way a little, before rolling her eyes and shrugging, what was she supposed to do?

“You could tutor him” a small voice in her head whispered. But she pushed that thought away quickly, it didn’t matter how sincere he looked.

###

He highly doubted that there would never be a sound that aggravated him more than his father talking to him about basketball. Nathan loved the game, the rush and the crowd’s adoration, but when it came to Dan Scott, everything between him and his son was about sports, whether it be his next game, his faulty (according to his father) techniques or how unlikely it was to beat the older man’s score from when he was in high school. Nathan was sure he could do it, but it really hurt his feelings that his dad seemed to think so little of him.

“So how did it go?” Dan Scott asked “with practice”

Nathan shrugged “I am small forward”

“And what did you do about that?”

“What do you want me to do dad?”

“I told you, I want you to eliminate the competition” Dan stated firmly.

“You mean your son?” said Nathan venomously.

“Don’t call him that”

“I am going upstairs” he said quietly, walking out of the room. His father already had too many high hopes on him being the star athlete, he would go insane if he were to know that Nathan might have to be forced to leave the team because of grades all together, that was a school rule and even Dan would have a hard time switching it around in their favor like he does.

He drew a shuddering breath as he laid down on the couch, picking up the phone, Haley’s number was inscribed on the paper where she had been assigned as his tutor, it was Karen café’s number, where she worked, she had thought it useless to use her house number since she was hardly there unless at late hours of the night when people shouldn’t even be calling. It rang a couple of times before she picked up.

“Karen’s café” she answered.

“I am calling for Haley James”

“Yeah, this is her”

“Hey! It’s Nathan Scott” he sighed, Nathan had planned to apologize for whatever he had done, and to ask her for help once again, perhaps this time she would be yielding “I really need your help”

“Sorry, this isn’t her”

She hung up the phone on him quickly, not even allowing him to get a word in edgewise. Nathan put the phone down dejected, she had turned him down too many times so far, yet, he continued allowing himself be treated like a doormat. Heck, he wasn’t proud of it but he was sure he would try again.

“What was that?” Karen, who was standing at the cash register, asked her.

“Uh, wrong number” improvised Haley.

“But you just said ‘this was her’. Did you forget your name?”

Haley chuckled softly, hoping they could avert from the subject, however she still felt Karen’s eyes bore into the back of her head.

“What’s up?”

The girl turned around, struggling to find the proper words to explain, ‘the son of your ex-husband (the one who abandoned you and your child) is asking me to tutor him, oh and by the by, he has been bullying Lucas relentlessly. However now I am on the edge of caving and agreeing to it because he has a distressed quality that is tugging on my heartstrings’ didn’t seem proper, so instead she said “This…guy… wants me to tutor him and I said no ‘cause he is kind of a bad guy”

Karen raised her eyebrows “You know him?”

Haley was silent for a beat, feeling slightly ashamed “Not really, I just know of him” she answered, avoiding Karen’s gaze, by pretending to clean the counter.

“Dangerous?” pushed Karen.

“No” said Haley, curling her lips and trying to act nonchalant, she caught Karen with a skeptical expression “What you got that look?”

“What look?” asked Karen, playing dumb.

“The look that my mom always gets when she wants to throw her two cents in, What?” replied Haley sheepishly, gesturing for an explanation.

“Well, Haley, I think you have pretty good instincts. I am not trying to tell you what to do” Which meant she was “but just to play devil’s advocate, if this boy came for tutoring, maybe he’s trying to change”

Haley opened her mouth for a second, unable to find counter words, she sighed heavily; her logic had been defeated. Karen moved closer, placed two cents on the counter and said “Might be something in there worth saving” before walking away.

They younger girl, bit her lips uncertainly, the idea of saving Nathan Scott in anyway seemed farfetched.

###

It was a beautiful day, the sun shone brighter than ever, birds were chirping, and a gentle breeze ruffled the tree leaves around her. Yet, Haley sat fuming. She had her first tutoring session with Nathan, having finally agreed to doing it the night prior, right after he kidnapped Lucas to humiliate him and throw his phone away, and she loved Luke, he was like a brother to her, even more so than her actual brothers, so after a few tears, she went over to Nathan’s house and decided to stop him once and for all; her way. When he answered the door, he was definitely surprised to see her, it even came more as a shock when she told him she would tutor him, Nathan was absolutely sure she wouldn’t after Lucas told her. So, he was more than gleeful, even readily accepting her two conditions; first, Lucas doesn’t know, and second, he leaves him alone. Both seemed like a fair price, and he was more than happy to pay. As she left, Nathan stood there watching her for a few seconds, a sincere smile on his face, she was kind of cute.

Haley had the textbooks already out as she fidgeted on the bench, most of her sessions took place in school, but due to the anonymity of the situation, she had told him to meet her at the dock, take it or leave it.

“Breakfast of champions; want some?” said Nathan as he walked up to her and placed two cups of latte and a box of cracker jack on the table.

“You are late” Haley didn’t spare him a glance as he sat down.

He tore into the box of snacks, fishing for the prize and said “Oh! Please let this be a cheat sheet”. Instead he pulled out a plastic beaded colorful bracelet, the kind she used to make with her mother and sisters when she was five. Nathan looked between her and the bracelet a few times hesitantly, then smiled shyly and declared “It’s for you”

“Stop it, it’s just…”

“Come on” he interrupted, sliding the bracelet on her hand smoothly “Don’t say I never gave you anything”

He looked too pleased with himself, and Haley grabbed a textbook “Do you see this book? Because this book is me, I am math”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he still smiled.

“It’s supposed to mean, you can work your whole, I am Nathan Scott, Mr. big shot, scoring my touchdowns on somebody else, because I don’t think..”

“I don’t even play football” he said ludicrously.

“Whatever” she replied dismissing him “at the end of the day all your bluster and BS don’t mean anything to Math, because Math don’t care and neither do I”

“Well, does English care? Because I really suck at that too”

“Please don’t waste my time” she spoke as patiently as she could muster “I am already taking a huge chance on you because my instincts are screaming that you are full of sh…”

Nathan stifled a smile, looking down and nodding his head, trying to keep on a serious mature facial expression.

“Let’s just get started, okay?” suggested Haley in the most patient way she could muster, and he smiled again, his eyes gleaming “Page 81”

No sooner had Nathan looked at the book that Haley had to stifle her own laugh, his nose scrunched up in total confusion, as he read the problem out loud, frowning deeper with each word. “A class average mark in an exam is 70. The average of students who scored below 60 is 50. The average of students who scored 60 or more is 75. If the total number of students in this class is 20, how many students scored below?”

Haley was waiting for him to finish when he looked up and said “You know if I understood any of this, we wouldn’t be here right now”

She huffed out a laugh, reaching for her pencil, as she slowly explained the problem, eliciting theories he could remember and offering up the ones he couldn’t. Turned out, Nathan was actually quite smart, just needed to understand every step before he could be convinced to answer and it only took them around half an hour before he was answering summation notation problems mostly on his own. The way his face lit up with joy, actually made her smile sincerely, as he took on another problem without her asking.

Soon enough they were talking, though at first shortly and formally on her side at least, she found he armor breaking slightly and caught herself enjoying his company, his playful attitude made her laugh a few times. After they were done, he looked up at her and smiled brightly, this time, she smiled back.

“Thank you, Haley, really.”

She nodded curtly, collecting her things “I will see you next time then”

“Whoa! Whoa! Wait” he got up hurriedly “There was no way; I could solve whatever gibberish was in that book”

Haley cocked an eyebrow “and?” she asked suspiciously.

“And I am buying you ice cream”

“Nathan…” she sighed.

“Look it isn’t just for you, I like ice-cream and we have to celebrate this milestone, plus the fact that we have been together for two hours and you haven’t screamed at me” his eyes were practically dancing and she chortled at his barely contained excitement, agreeing to one scoop before they parted ways.

“So how long have you been at tree hill high?”

“All my life” she laughed.

Nathan frowned, racking his brain; he whispered “Why can’t I remember you?”

Haley raised her eyebrows in disbelief, though still smiling “Wow! Nathan Scott didn’t know who I was? My mediocre reputation has been compromised”

He swiftly corrected “No, No, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, I just meant that…” he caught Haley staring at him with eyes narrowed mockingly “I should just stop talking before I make a total ass of myself”

“Good idea”

They arrived at a nearby ice cream parlor in silence, she saw Nathan digging for his wallet and asking her “What do you want?”

“It’s okay, I will pay” she rolled her eyes “You already got me breakfast and the bracelet.

“Who invited who for ice-cream?” he asked bewildered.

“Fine” Haley sighed “mint chocolate chip”

“Cone?”

“Waffle”

“Excuse me, two mint chocolate chip ice-creams, waffle cones” he handed the man the money, and grabbed the cones as soon as the man scooped the ice-cream “There you go”

“Thank you” said Haley, savoring her treat, and making satisfied sounds “mmm, mint chocolate chip is heavenly”

“Yes it is” he whispered inaudibly, staring at her with a gleam in his eyes

“What are you looking at?” she snapped him out of his thoughts, jokingly, she had finished her entire cone in record timing “That is the only proper way to eat mint chocolate chip ice cream”

“You want mine” he offered, dangling half his eaten cone, in front of her face.

“Nah! it’s okay” she said, clearly wanting it.

“Here, I saved it for you”

“I couldn’t”

“I want you to have it”

He chuckled, when she grabbed it suddenly, saying a quick thank you and shoving her face in it.

They said goodbye shortly afterwards and parted ways. As Haley walked home, she felt a tiny trickle of melted ice cream on the corner of her lips, wiping it away, she caught a whiff of the earthy sandalwood scent of Nathan’s cologne, still lingering faintly on her new bracelet, she wouldn’t admit it but she smelled it all the way there, and a little after that.

#nathan and haley #naley #oth #one tree hill #nathan scott #haley james scott #james lafferty #joy lenz #bethany joy lenz

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wsmith215 · 4 years

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Football room-mates – Jamie Carragher, Gary Neville and more reveal all | Football News

Jamie Carragher, Gary Neville and more Sky Sports pundits lift the lid on their former football room-mates!

Professional footballers live most of their lives in front of a camera. But when they’re on the road, either for away games or international fixtures, they can enjoy relative privacy in their hotel rooms. There’s one person who acts as a barrier to complete privacy though – the room-mate.

So what was it like to room with Michael Owen? Who nearly got Alan Smith arrested in Russia? And why was it such good news to be rooming with Dirk Kuyt?

We asked Sky Sports pundits and The Football Show guests to lift the lid…

Jamie Carragher – ‘I tried to keep Owen at Liverpool’ 2:45 Jamie Carragher discusses rooming with Michael Owen and Steven Gerrard

Jamie Carragher discusses rooming with Michael Owen and Steven Gerrard

I had Michael Owen to start with and people always said we were chalk and cheese, how did we room together? I was supposedly this little rascal and he was this Saint, if you like, Saint Michael, after the World Cup. It certainly wasn’t like that in the room!

He actually took the call to go to Real Madrid in the room in pre-season. So I was the first person, before maybe even his family, who knew about the Real Madrid situation and we actually had a good chat about it. I was convinced he shouldn’t go.

Michael Owen had ‘such self-belief,’ says Jamie Carragher

I wasn’t just thinking of Liverpool – I was desperate for him to stay, he was a top player – but more that, at that time, Real Madrid had Raul, [Fernando] Morientes and Ronaldo. He was just convinced that he would still play. He was saying, “well when I came through at Liverpool it was Robbie Fowler and Stan Collymore, that didn’t bother me!” He had such self-belief.

Stevie Gerrard was after him… thankfully [there was] no Real Madrid call!

Alan Smith – ‘Gazza was watching Ceefax!’

Paul Gascoigne’s night-time viewing surprised Alan Smith!

Paul Gascoigne was definitely the most unlikely choice of my favourite room-mate when we roomed with England.

While I liked to lie around all afternoon, he’d be rushing in and out, playing table tennis, snooker, cards – whatever kept him busy. Quite often, my wife would think she’d got the wrong number when ringing up, as Gazza did his best impression of a takeaway restaurant.

In the middle of the night, the noise of the TV once woke me up. He couldn’t get to sleep so had started watching Ceefax.

Then there was the time in Russia when he nearly got me arrested after placing a wad of roubles [Russian currency] on top of our coach. When we pulled away, a near-riot broke out behind us as the locals scrambled for the fluttering cash.

Unfortunately, I was the first person the furious soldier saw when storming on board. Rifle on shoulder, he delivered the mother of all rollickings, as Gazza hid sniggering on the back seat.

Craig Bellamy – ‘Dirk Kuyt was a good omen’ 3:23 Craig Bellamy discusses the team-mates he has roomed with over the years at Newcastle, Liverpool and Wales…

Craig Bellamy discusses the team-mates he has roomed with over the years at Newcastle, Liverpool and Wales…

Lee Bowyer used to have a really annoying habit where he used to grind his teeth when he was asleep.

Every hotel I’d take a sleeping tablet because I’d always struggle to sleep the night before a game. So imagine the noise he was making grinding his teeth to wake you up!

I used to leave a little glass of water to the side and I said, “If you wake me up this is going over you!” So it would be about two or three in the morning, he’d be grinding his teeth away and I’d just throw the water straight over him!

Due to his appetite, John Hartson used to wake up around two to three in the morning quite hungry. So he used to leave a packet of Maltesers and a can of Coke right by his bed. Without fail, it would be like an alarm in his head would go off, the light would go on and he’d be there just eating his Maltesers and then you’d hear the can open.

I’d watch him eat and drink for about half-an-hour until he settled down, then he was back to sleep! In the end I had enough of that!

It was different with Liverpool – Rafa Benitez used to designate who we’d be with. You were never assigned to one person so you got a good reflection of the team as well. If you were rooming with Dirk Kuyt, you had a good chance of starting!

Rooming with Dirk Kuyt? You’re probably starting!

Matt Le Tissier – ‘I threw fruit to test his reflexes!’ 1:17 Matt Le Tissier lifts the lid on his former room-mates

Matt Le Tissier lifts the lid on his former room-mates

My favourite room-mate from down the years would probably have to be Barry Horne. We used to have some really good, interesting conversations.

I can remember him actually telling me in the early ’90s about this bloke called Osama Bin Laden. At the time I’m just listening to him and he was obviously far more intelligent than me, he went on to become a teacher and get a degree.

So I took all this information in, didn’t really think about it too much, until about 10 years later when that name became quite prominent around the world. Suddenly I thought, “hang on a minute, I’ve heard that name somewhere before” and 10 years earlier Barry was telling me all about it!

I also roomed with the goalkeeper John Burridge once upon a time, and did find myself quite late at night with bits of fruit in my hand throwing them across the room for him to dive on his bed to test his reflexes the night before a game.

I never imagined in my wildest dreams when I became a professional footballer that one of the perks of that job would be throwing fruit at John Burridge – brilliant!

Gary Neville – ‘candles, pictures… everything perfect!’

Gary Neville: “I’m always talking, always arguing and he (Beckham) was the complete opposite of that.”

I roomed with David Beckham for about six months and then the whole rooming with players completely stopped [at Manchester United] because everybody went into their own individual rooms. I think they worked out that players weren’t compatible with each other and that each went to bed at different times.

I had two big problems with Becks (well, he had with me!) I used to go to bed at 9pm and wake up at 5am, he would stay up until 11pm and want to wake up at 8am, so essentially he was keeping me up from 9 until 11 and then I was getting him up at 5 in the morning, so it just wasn’t working at all.

Secondly, he is the cleanest person. He gets into his room, he lights candles, he puts pictures up – everything has to be absolutely perfect, it’s been the same since he was 18.

I just throw everything everywhere, so it just did not work at all. I’m always talking, always arguing and he was the complete opposite of that. He would listen to music, he would want peace, he would want to be chilled and it’s just the complete opposite end of the spectrum of where I was at.

Charlie Nicholas – ‘he was so stylish’

I was sharing with Graeme Souness for Scotland. He was tremendously stylish. When he came to meet with Scotland, he had the best excess baggage.

I used to come with a little sports bag and toilet bag, he came in one day and the staff were hanging his jackets up in colour co-ordination! He was a real class act and a class guy.

He loved life to the full and you had to be of extremely high standards when you were in a room with him. He was immaculate and he had to go to the bathroom first to make sure he had his own time in there.

Graeme Souness – ‘he talked absolute nonsense for a good 10 minutes’

Graeme Souness and Kenny Dalglish roomed together at Liverpool and Scotland

When asked by Sky Sports’ Kelly Cates who his favourite room-mate was…

Your father (Sir Kenny Dalglish). We must have roomed together for the best part of 10 years given the time at Liverpool and the Scottish games.

We came to a very simple arrangement early on because he had a strong Glasgow accent when he came down. If anyone came to the door he had to get out of bed and answer it and if anything had to be done on the telephone I had to order, whether it was room service or anything else on the phone.

On a Friday night before a game he would take a sleeping pill and within 10 minutes he was talking a language which I’ve yet to discover what it was! He talked absolute nonsense for a good 10 minutes. Then it was like someone turning a light off, he just went out and that was him until 9 o’clock the following day! So he would be my choice, and I’m sure I’d be his choice!

Phil Thompson – ‘the shellfish stunk!’

Terry McDermott was my regular room-mate when he arrived at Liverpool in 1974 after the FA Cup final. I played a very good part in him coming to Liverpool. We were Kirkby mates and were living there and we struck up an immediate friendship. He was quite astonishing. He was a great player but a funny lad, keeping the atmosphere in the dressing room bouncing. We had our habit on a Friday night of having our packed-up sandwiches and a pint of orange and lemonade.

I always remember one trip with Terry – he turned up with a bag of cockles! They are like shellfish and you had to have a needle to pick them out of the inside. They stunk! He had a bag of them. Ronnie Moran came in in the morning to make sure we all got up and said, “what is that?” bursting the window open as he did so! Terry was extraordinary – a great room-mate and social partner.

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lilsherlockian1975 · 7 years

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Nicely Done

My sister from across the Pond is sick, so I wrote her a sickfic. Feel better @mrsmcrieff love you bunches! This is pure fuff with one naughty word. Big thanks to @mizjoely for her extraordinary beta skills! Enjoy ~Lil~

Molly woke up with the driest mouth in history and Sherlock’s voice echoing in her pounding head. I must be dreaming…

“You’re not dreaming, Molly. Now that you’re awake, I need you to get dressed and come with me,” he said, sounding more than a little annoyed.

“Noooo,” she grumbled, rolling away from the man who had invaded her home to wake her in the middle of the night. “I can’t breathe!” It felt like her sinuses were currently occupied by a small family of angry badgers.

“Of course you can breathe, don’t be melodramatic. I will carry you if necessary!”

“I’m sick, Sherlock! Have you no heart?” she whined as he tugged away her covers and a blast of cool air hit her overheated body.

He chuckled and started pulling up her by the arms. “You know for a fact that I don’t. Get up! You may be a little sick, Molly, but Mrs. Buffy Bracegirdle is quite dead and I’m one lab test away from solving her murder.”

She sat up on the edge of her bed, her head spinning and said, “You made that name up.”

“I did not. We need to pull the autopsy report and when we do, you’ll see that she was aptly named. I imagine she was very well acquainted with all sorts ‘slimming garments’. Not unlike my brother.” He helped her to her feet then, with one arm around her waist and the other on her forearm, guided her to the bathroom. “If you’d been working like a good little pathologist rather than taking the day off, I would have it solved by now.” With a wave of his hand he added, “Now, make yourself presentable.”

Ten minutes later Molly had cleaned her teeth, washed her face and brushed her ratty hair. She walked into her kitchen in search of food to find Sherlock going through her laptop. “I just changed the password, Sherlock!” she moaned as she poured herself a glass of juice. After taking a drink, she immediately spit it into the sink. “Blah! Toothpaste and orange juice!” Giving up on the prospect of food, she turned back to the consulting annoyance sitting at her kitchen island. “Just let me change and I’ll be ready.”

He jumped up, forgetting his computer hacking for the moment, and grabbed Molly by the arm. “You look fine. Let’s go.” Then he dragged her toward the front door.

“I’m in my jammies, you idiot!” she said, jerking out of his hold.

“It’s the middle of the night, Molly. No one will see you. Now come on, we’ve wasted enough time with all your primping and juice spitting.”

No one would see her? Of course not, no one except the dishy security guard, Fernando. Every time she saw him, she thought of Lady Gaga. Great, now my splitting, mucus-filled head has a song stuck in it. Walking into the lab in her fuzzy pink panda pajamas (feeling very lucky that he’d let her put on shoes), she immediately pulled the report he needed,confirming that deceased was indeed named ‘Buffy Bracegirdle’. Poor woman. “Now what do you need me to do?” she asked.

“Just sit and try not to contaminate anything,” he said as he took the report from her.

He only needed her clearance for this one, thank God! If she had to look into a microscope she thought she might be sick...er. Sitting down in the darkest part of the lab, she leant against the cool wall. I wish I’d taken something before I left, she thought as she watched him fluttering around from one station to another. A cold chill shuddered through her body, followed by a coughing fit. Sherlock didn’t seem to notice, he was in the zone. She closed her eyes and decided to try to get some sleep. She was out within a matter of minutes.

Some time later she woke up coughing again, her throat rough and sore. “I’m going to make some tea, Sherlock,” she said as she passed him. “You want anything?”

“Coffee,” he replied without looking away from his notes. “Black, two sugars.”

She smiled and shook her head.

It took her fifteen harrowing minutes to make the beverages. Twice she had to sit down because she felt dizzy and lightheaded, but she finally made it back into the lab, cups in hand. “Here you go.” She sat the coffee next to his notebook and wandered back to her spot. He didn’t seem to have noticed. He was alternating between messing with the microscope and his mobile. Molly drank about half of her tea, enjoying how the warm beverage felt on her throat but, unfortunately, her fever seemed to get even worse.

Once the tests confirmed his deductions, Sherlock messaged Lestrade and called out for Molly. She didn’t answer. He looked around the lab and finally found her propped up in the corner, asleep. As he got closer he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Damn, she really is sick, he thought as he put his hand on her forehead. “Molly…”

She opened her eyes a fraction.

“You’re hot.”

“I’ve always wanted to hear you say that,” she said with a half smile.

“And loopy. Let’s get you home.” He helped her up and walked her to the door.

“What about Miss Pantygirdle? Isshe still dead?” she slurred.

“Yes, her younger sister laced her insulin with poison, just as I thought,” he explained as they walked toward the lift.

“That’s not very nice.”

“Murderers aren’t generally nice, Molly.”

“Jim was nice,” she said dreamily.

Sherlock stopped walking so abruptly that she almost fell forward. “What?” he asked, as he steadied her. “Moriarty was…”

“Mmhmm... I was crying about something once… what was is? My dad?” She looked at him as if he might know, then shook her head. “No, it wasn’t that. I think maybe I got hurt or something…” She trailed off, looking confused. “Anyway, doesn’t matter, he made me hot cocoa with little marshmallows. He even watched telly with me. Course he was only nice when he needed to be.” She shrugged and giggled, then her eyes went wide. “I feel funny,” she said just before passing out.

Sherlock caught her easily and picked her up, carrying her to the lift. As he pressed the button for the ground floor, never took his eyes off of the woman in his arms.

He felt like the world’s biggest arse.

Molly woke up once again parched, though her head felt better and her fever seemed to be lower. Looking around her room, she noticed that something was very much wrong. How the fuck did I end up in Sherlock’s bed? Sitting up, she realised that her jammies had been exchanged for an oversized tee shirt. Bloody hell! Then she heard voices.

“...left a hospital! A place where they heal sick people, by the way, and brought Molly to your flat, to your bed? Have you lost your mind?”

Why is John here? she wondered, looking around the room for her clothes.

“She’s got a cold, John, not a severed limb,” she heard Sherlock reply.

“She passed out, Sherlock! You had to carry her to the cab AND into your flat! The fact that no one stopped you either says something about society or what people have come to expect from you. I find both possibilities disturbing.”

“You would,” the detective responded with a loud snort.

“According to you, she didn’t even wake up when you changed her clothes. Which we need to talk about later, by the way.”

“Why?” Sherlock sounded confused even through the closed door.

“Why? Because you don’t undress unconscious women, you awkward fuck!” John shouted.

Okay, that was enough! Molly looked around until she found a dressing gown (her clothes were nowhere in sight). After rolling up the sleeves, she opened the door and walked down the hall. The feuding friends were in the kitchen. John looked guilty; Sherlock looked smug.

“Where are my clothes, Sherlock?” she asked calmly.

“Mrs. Hudson’s washing them. They were soaked with perspiration.”

“Just say sweat, you pretentious git!” John said as he stood. He walked to Molly and put the back of his hand against her forehead. “I don’t think you still have a fever, but let me double check.” He turned to Sherlock and said, “You’re an idiot,” as he left.

“What happened?” Molly asked as she sat down.

“You passed out. I brought you here and took care of you. What do you remember?”

“The lab. A girdle... I think and something about insulin? Was my blood sugar low?”

“No, though I imagine you should try to eat something. The insulin was to do with the case.” He paused and looked her over. “You were just dehydrated. Once I got you home… er, here, I managed to get your fever down.”

“How?”

He rolled his eyes. “I sat with you in bed, kept cold flannels on your neck and chest and made you sip water,” he explained. “I don’t think you ever fully woke up.”

“Oh… that was… sweet.”

He nodded casually, but for the briefest of moments gave her a look that she simply couldn’t place. She felt like she was missing something. Just then John came back into the room, fussing about her temperature and shoving a thermometer in her face.

“Well, you’re normal,” he announced after reading it. “Unlike Dr. Holmes here. Just take some paracetamol if it spikes again. I’m heading out if you want me to drop you home.”

She stood, quickly followed by Sherlock. “No, she’ll be staying,” he said.

“Oh, that’s not necess…” Molly started, only to be interrupted by John.

“Can I talk to you… privately?” He motioned with his head toward the sitting room.

Sherlock didn’t budge. “No. You can go so that I can see to Molly’s recovery. You’d just send her home, alone? What if she gets dehydrated again, what if…?”

“She wouldn't have gotten dehydrated in the first place if you hadn’t dragged her to the lab in the middle of the night!” John insisted.

“Really, I’m…” she tried to interject, but it wasn’t happening. They were on a roll; she felt like she was watching tennis match.

“You know, I shouldn't have even phoned you, John. All you’ve done is harp and judge.” He turned to Molly. “He insinuated that I did something improper by undressing you. How absurd!”

“She’s your pathologist, Sherlock, not your girlfriend! You can’t just go around undressing women against their will!” John shouted.

“She’s not just my pathologist, you angry little troll! She’s my Molly! If she’s sick, I’ll take care of her. If she’s sad, I’ll make her smile. If anyone has the right to remove sweat-soaked clothes from her person, it’s me! And if you’d just have left when you said you would, I could have told her all of this in private!”

Silence descended on the kitchen in 221B Baker Street. Molly was staring at Sherlock, John was staring at Molly and Sherlock couldn’t seem to decide where to look. He finally settled on the floor.

“Well then,” John said. “Ah, I’ll just…” He started to leave, but stopped in the hallway and turned around. “You could've just said you fancied her, you know.” Then he left with a wink.

Sherlock glanced up at Molly, then back to the doorway where John had just disappeared. “I’ll go check with Mrs. Hudson about your clothes.”

Molly grabbed his arm to stop him. “What happened last night?”

“What do you mean?”

She moved closer (but not too close, considering that she was sick and probably had breath that could kill a small mammal). “I mean, something’s different, something happened. What?”

“I did wake you in the middle of the night, Molly. John was… right, I suppose. But I’ll never tell him that,” he said. “I’ll fetch your clothes and see if Mrs. Hudson has anything to eat. I certainly don’t.”

“Okay. I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” she said as she started to sit in a kitchen chair. “I can’t remember much…”

“Don’t sit there!” he nearly shouted causing Molly to jump back to her feet. “Ah, it’s… the settee would be more comfortable.” He took her hand and led her into the sitting room.

She was starting to feel dizzy again, but she thought it might have more to do with Sherlock’s strange behaviour and… what the hell did he mean by ‘his Molly?’. Thankfully, she was seated by then and her head started to clear before he returned.

“Hot cocoa,” he said, handing her a mug.

“Sherlock?”

“Mrs. Hudson didn’t have any marshmallows.” He sat next to her. “She’s making you cheese on toast, hope that’s okay.”

“Sherlock?”

“Your clothes are in the dryer, shouldn’t be much longer. But you’re welcome to wear my…”

“Sherlock!” she interrupted. “What is going on? What did you mean and why are you treating me like… like…”

“I can be nice!” he said loudly. “I’d like to be nice… to you.”

Smiling, she took a sip of cocoa. “So, I’m not just your pathologist anymore?”

He shook his head. “Apparently not,” he answered with a smirk. “Shall we see what’s on the telly?”

“Sure.” Molly leaned back on the sofa while Sherlock found the remote.

An hour later, she was fed and snuggled up against the detective watching the end of The Great British Bake-Off. She looked up at him; he actually seemed interested in the programme, even though she knew better. “Thank you, Sherlock,” she said with a tired smile and started to sit up.

“You don’t have to leave.” He tightened his grip around her shoulder. “Don’t you want to watch Come Dine With Me? It’s coming on next.”

“I need the loo.” She got up then said, “I’d rather watch Ripper Street, though.”

“That sounds like fun. What’s it about?”

“Exactly what you think,” she answered. “And Sherlock, this has been really nice.”

By the time Molly had finally fallen to sleep (across Sherlock’s chest), they had not only watched Ripper Street (which he found delightful) but an episode of Grantchester and two Midsomer Murders. He hadn’t enjoyed the cooking show, but the others were… interesting. What was even more interesting was the the feeling of Molly’s warm little body pressed against his.

“Molly, come on. Let’s go to bed,” he said as he adjusted his arm.

“Noooo. I’m warm,” she grumbled, not opening her eyes. “Just a little longer then I’ll go home.”

Sherlock stood and picked her up then carried her to his room. “You are home, Molly,” he said as he laid her down.

“Hmmm?” She yawned and rolled over.

Sherlock pulled out his mobile, which he hadn’t looked at all night, to find a text from his best friend.

Is she still there? -JW

Yes, Sherlock replied. And she’s fine. No fever.

Is she in your bed again? -JW

Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.

Nicely done, Sherlock. -JW

With a smirk, he put his phone on the table and got dressed for bed. Climbing into bed, he pulled Molly against his chest, where she belonged. As he drifted of to sleep listening to her soft snores, he vowed to never again drag her out in the middle of the night for a case. Besides, there were much more pleasant things to do at such times.

Thanks for reading. ~Lil~

#sherlolly #mollock #sicfic #mrsmcrieff

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synergyevent · 7 years

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Today, began treatment using cannabis oils. First drop was taken at around 2:00PM after the Burbank Market.

It’s awkward to describe feelings. Wednesday, August 9 was in and out of panic, excessive thinking, more disassociation than anything else and the hell of knowing and feeling that this is not me. It does seem congruent with side effects of the Kepra. That evening after waking from sleep I smoke some pot to get some sense of feeling. The disassociation continues. I reach out and post on Facebook in tears. “Send Love and Hugs. Emotionally Hurting” People come through.

I get through the day. I call Dr. Sutherling for his advice. He advise to half dosage of Kepra until I see him next in September. I have already haved his original dosage, so now I am at 500MG in the morning with 500MG of Depakote. I only take Depakote in the evening. I do the work I am committed to doing. I move, go to Vroman’s to read books. I walk into WoolHaus for succor. Michael is there. We share about our mutual experience. I say a funny thing, that “when I talk about Renee I feel open and clear, just like Jesus” There is a nice moment of clarifying. I go to SoPas market to pick up some food for Meghan and Neal and go over there to spend night. Meghan makes a nice meal. I sleep throughout the night without drinking. Intense dream. Wake in darkness. In morning I feel previous day’s experience with Michael/Woolhaus environment. Renee energy. Similar to Mara/Rita’s farm. “Knitting is a frequency of being”

Friday, I move. Continue to act on “keep looking for wind” I go to bookstore to write. It feels good. I go through my list and check them off as I go, one at a time. I am in and out of brutal self-hatred and masochism. I mention to Erin that there was one time in my life where I feel I was honest with myself in saying that I did not want to heal. This may be one of those time. I can give the littlest thing dominance. I get through the day. It feels good to be at the bookstore. I go to Woolhaus again. Read at Vroman’s. Get back to condo. Make dinner. Watch You Tube, at times disgusted with myself. At times happy that I am playing Bing Crosby’s “San Fernando Valley”

I also find a clip on Metafilter that recognizes Saul Bass and see that Stan’s talk about him at the SyntropyLA event has been linked. Very cool.

Today I went to Burbank to assist Meredith/Autonomy. I beat myself up at the wisdom of leaving Pudwill. This is a fill in market. Good for one week. I feel low energy/spirit throughout. I leave feeling drugged. I am taking that this is still side effects of Kepra. My thinking and language connected to that thinking is limited. Like being allowed only certain words and thoughts in the midst of a dust storm.

I decide, to hell with it. I am not waiting. I am going to get the oils. They will be used as medicine to get me through the coming off of the Kepra

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doomonfilm · 5 years

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Review : Roma (2018)

Word about Roma has been on my radar since right around November of 2018, and all of it was good. Children of Men was quite the experience, and Gravity has been on my watch queue for ages, but the buzz about Roma had the film climbing up the list fast. In the wake of its wins at the Golden Globes, my sense of urgency kicked in, and I am glad that I finally took the time to enjoy this wonderful film.

Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) is a caretaker for a group of young children born to doctor Antonio (Fernando Grediaga) and biochemist/professor Sofia (Marina de Tavira). The children she cares for are the young inquisitive Pepe (Marco Graf), his older sister Sofi (Daniela Demesa), and the quarreling oldest boys Tono (Diego Cortina) and Paco (Carlos Peralta), and with the help of their grandmother Teresa (Veronica Garcia), Cleo does her best to shield them from the cold truth of their father’s extramarital affairs and absenteeism. While hanging out with friend and coworker Adela (Nancy Garcia) and Adela’s boyfriend Ramon (Jose Manuel Guerrero), Cleo is introduced to Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero), a young man with a penchant for martial arts, and a romantic fling evolves, leading to Cleo’s pregnancy. Rather than face the truth, Fermin decides to flee, leaving Cleo to deal with a newborn baby on the way, as well as the problems growing with the family she cares for. As Sofia does all that she can to keep herself and her family together, Cleo tries her best to keep her life together, all while both women attempt to protect themselves and their families from the madness of the political turmoil that surrounds them, as well as the sometimes cruel nature of the world itself.

One of the major set of themes in Roma is a focus on class systems and cultural values. When it comes to the upper class, the focus is on the luxury of the entitled in the form of both material goods and the ability to afford time for things like vacations and extramarital escapades. In the world that Antonio and Sofia inhabit, honking a horn brings the help to open your garage doors, and the help will put your kids to bed for you. Cleo is shown genuine love by Sofia in tandem with the responsibility she is given... a deep trust to take care of Sofia’s kids. Cleo becomes so connected to Sofia’s family that we only really ever hear of Cleo’s actual family rather than see them. The family she cares for deals with mostly first world problems like a car too big for its garage or bickering kids mostly. Luckily, Soifa and Antonio don’t go overboard with their extravagance, like their extended family and the collection of mounted dog heads they proudly display.

In contrast, the glimpses we get into Cleo’s life outside of the family are mostly somber and pensive, reflecting her blue collar life. Cleo, Fermin and the rest of their peers seek pleasure in moments and shared experiences rather than objects and wealth, even if that pleasure is as drastically diverse as romance or governmental protest. These people do have a unified quality despite their diverse motives : the fact that they must work for everything they have rather than accept everything being given too them. The film provides layers of symbolism to display how problems mount in the lower social class world, sometimes to a seemingly unsurmountable degree, like the pregnancy reveal in the theater versus the onscreen symbolism in the movie theater, or the earthquake that takes place while Cleo is observing newborn babies.

Cleo and Sofia show that spited and scorned women can be found in all of the spectrums of life, be it the upper or lower classes. Cleo finds herself an observer to many, many embarrassing and sad moments that she must remain silent about, be they examples of infidelity or secrets that could rock the family she cares for. Cleo, by that rationale, finds herself in the impossible position of being unable to help either her blood family or her family that she cares for. Cleo also finds herself so focused on these tasks she can never complete that the truths she learns about Fermin, the man who impregnated her, are devastating in contrast to the tender moments they initially shared.

In terms of production, Cuaron provides astounding cinematography via a fixed, observational camera that is ever scanning and surveying the surroundings. The camera moves feel mechanical and unnatural in the 1970s surroundings of the film. The stark black and white photography adds a timeless feel to the proceedings. The period piece aspects are so well woven into the film that they are barely noticeable, and they only serve to further enrich the world and all of its texture and culture. The pacing of the story allows moments to resonate and images to permeate, pulling the viewer deeper and deeper into the film. Many moments and framings of scenes echo those of Federico Fellini. One of my favorite, eye-opening aspects of the films was the reveal/callback to what we were really seeing in the opening credits, just as issues with the family really were beginning to reveal themselves. The reference to Gravity nestled in one of the movie theater sequences made me laugh. The constant juxtaposition of manmade and natural tragedies against peaceful moments that resonate the best parts of life really help bolster the emotional waves of this film.

Yalitza Aparicio shows a grace, dignity and compassion in the face of seemingly insurmountable issues and odds, carrying both her and the viewer through the mess Cleo lives in. Marina de Tavira’s tragic portrayal of a mother falling apart in the face of an unfaithful husband is heartbreaking. Fernando Grediaga’s carefree spirit and inability to show love for anyone other than himself paints him as protagonist in the face of the family. Jorge Antonio Guerrero gives a dynamic performance as a seemingly high quality and high character man, and one with integrity in the face of political turmoil, but one that runs away from the responsibility of fatherhood. Marco Graf brings innocence and childlike insight as the youngest of the cared for family, Diego Cortina and Carlos Peralta provide the quarreling and boundless energy of young boys, while Daniela Demesa is the reserved and quiet child. Veronica Garcia’s tender but firm hand is always present as the grandmother of the cared for family. Appearances by Nancy Garcia, Jose Manuel Guerrero and a special appearance by Latin Lover round out the top notch cast.

It’s funny how films so seemingly quiet and low key are so powerful and introspective. This one was definitely a quiet storm, and one with enough impact to shift my top ten list for 2018. If you’ve not done so already, carve out a couple of hours of Netflix time and check out Roma.

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