“Blaise,” Draco fumed, storming into the living room, “what happened to the chest of drawers in my room?”
Blaise looked up from the paper he was reading and grinned at Draco.
“Do you like the new one? You’ve been whining about it so much, I thought I’d just replace that awful old-timer.”
“What did you do with that old-timer?”
“I sold it,” Blaise shrugged.
“You sold it,” Draco repeated flatly.
“Who did you sell it to?” Draco asked frantically.
“No idea,” Blaise said. “I didn’t get a name. Two people came by to pick it up. I think they were Muggles.”
Draco felt like he was about to faint.
“Did you take everything out beforehand?”
“Of course! What do you take me for?”
“Everything?” Draco insisted.
Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco’s tone and studied him.
Draco took a step closer and narrowed his eyes.
“Even what was under the secret false bottom in the second drawer, nobody but me knows about?”
Blaise paled and his mouth opened.
“Oh,” he simply said.
“Yes, oh,” Draco growled. “Great, now I have to hunt it down. You’re a lousy flatmate.”
“Hey, I just wanted to do you a favour,” Blaise said defensively.
“You better hope they haven’t found what’s inside it, or I’m going to kill you.”
Doing the locator spell was easy enough. Draco had feared it wouldn’t work, but it seemed there were no wards guarding the flat the chest of drawers had ended up in. Draco apparated to the flat, his heart hammering as he knocked.
When the door opened, Draco was sure he had to be dreaming. Of all the people in the world. Of course. Of course.
“Malfoy?” Potter seemed stunned. He was holding a toothbrush and was only dressed in a green t-shirt and pants. “How did you find me?”
Draco shook his head, willing his mind to work properly again.
“You have something of mine,” he said curtly.
“And what might that be?” Potter responded, a grin beginning to form on his lips. It took Draco off guard for a moment.
“Can I just come in and check something?”
Potter stepped aside and gestured for Draco to come in. Draco wasted no time and quickly found the chest of drawers in the corner of Potter’s bedroom. He opened the second drawer and took out the little book he had been so desperate to get back.
“What’s that?” Potter asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Nothing of your concern. It shouldn’t have been in there,” Draco huffed.
“Hmmm,” Potter hummed. “You know, I never would have thought you kept a diary.”
Draco blushed, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.
“It’s not a diary,” he said lamely.
Potter nodded, but he had a mischievous smile on his face.
“You want a drink?” he asked, turning around and heading back into the living room. Draco blinked and tried to find his voice again.
“Um, no thank you. You were obviously getting ready for bed. I won’t disturb you any longer,” he said hastily.
“You sure? It might be a great opportunity,” Potter grinned. Draco gave him a quizzical look.
“I don’t know,” Potter shrugged, “after two Firewhiskeys you might get the chance to run your hands through my incredibly infuriating, magnificent head of hair.” Potter tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t suppress a snicker. “I might even let you touch my strong and marvellous jawline.”
Never had Draco wished more the ground would open and swallow him up.
“You read it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You had no right.”
“True,” Potter replied, nonchalant. “I’d let you read mine in return, but I don’t keep a diary.” He stepped closer to Draco, studying his face intently.
“You look rather cute when you’re flushed.”
Draco made a sound that was something between a weird gurgle and a high-pitched squeak. Whatever it was, it was highly embarrassing.
Potter chuckled, coming to a halt right in front of Draco.
“I mean, I could just show you what kind of fantasies I’d be writing in that diary,” he said in a low whisper.
Draco gulped, not quite grasping what Potter was saying.
“Like what?” he breathed.
“Hmmm.” Potter’s eyes flickered down to Draco’s lips. “Like how I want to grab you right now and kiss you until you can’t breathe.”
Draco’s mouth opened involuntarily. Breathing was already hard with Potter standing so close to him.
“And then,” Potter continued, deliberately breathing on Draco’s lips, “I’d want your hands on the most delicious and perfect arse you have ever seen in your life.”
Draco groaned loudly. This was just too much. But then again, Potter really seemed to be teasing him in a rather flirtatious way. Trying to conceal his nervousness, he raised his chin and fixed Potter with a glare.
“These better not just be empty promises,” Draco said haughtily.
“Oh, they’re not,” Potter smirked, his eyes gleaming as he started pouring their drinks.
Here we are. The moment has come. Can you hear me?
It looks like a concert!
Sadly, this moment arrived, even though I hoped it would never arrive.
These days I read a lot of things about me: good, beautiful things. I cried a lot, every single day, by myself like a lunatic. Because 25 years are not going to be forgotten, with you behind my back that helped me through good and bad moments.
And for this, I want to thank you all here, even though it’s not easy in this circumstance. You know I don’t speak a lot, but I definitely think a lot. And these days with my wife we had talks about the years I had with this shirt, this unique shirt.
I wrote a letter for you as well. I hope I will be able to read it out. If I don’t manage to read it all, my daughter Chanel will do it for me, because she loves it.
(I need to take a breath, sorry, it’s not easy for me) - in a laughing manner - I’ll go before it gets too late. I suppose you’re hungry, it’s time for dinner. Even though I’d stay here for another 25 years.
Thank you Rome, thank you mom and dad, my brother, my family, my friends. Thank you to my wife and my sons.
I wanted to start from the end, from the farewells, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to read this all. It’s impossible to tell about 28 years in a few sentences. I would like to tell them through songs or else, but you know I’m not good at that. So I tried to write them with my feet, for these 28 years, which was a lot easier for me.
You know what my favourite toy was? The ball. It still is. But at some point we get old. This is how they told me time works, damn it.
It’s that same time that on that 17th of June of 2001 we hoped it would run faster. (The day Roma won the Scudetto) We couldn’t wait to hear the referee blow his whistle three times. I still have goosebumps about it.
Today time came at my door saying: “We have to grow up. From tomorrow onwards you will be old. Take off your shorts and shoes because from today you’re a man, and you won’t be able to smell the grass of the pitch from this close. The sun in your eyes when you’re running towards the goal. The adrenaline that consumes you and the satisfaction in celebrating.
I’ve asked myself in these last months, "Why are they waking me up from this dream?"
Do you remember when you were kids and you were dreaming something beautiful? And your mother wakes you up because it’s time for school, but you preferred staying in bed and sleep? And you try to get back into the story again, but you never succeed?
This time it wasn’t a dream. It was real life.
This letter is for all of you, for the kids that cheered on me, for the ones that were once kids and are now fathers, and for the ones of today that maybe still yell "Totti goal!”
I like to think that my career will be for you a tale to tell to people.
Now it’s really over. I take off my shirt for the last time and I fold it nicely; even though I’m not ready to do it yet, and maybe I never will.
Sorry if in these last few months I didn’t say anything about what happens and my thoughts, but turning the light off isn’t easy.
Now I am scared. It’s not the same fear I have when I have to score a penalty, this time I can’t see through the holes of the net what will happen next.
Let me be scared. This time I am the one who needs you and the warmth you are able to give me. The one that you always showed to me. – fans start chanting very loudly – With you by my side, I will surely be able to turn the page, and to begin a new adventure.Now it’s the time to thank all of my teammates, the staff, the managers, all the ones who worked beside me all these years. The fans, La Curva Sud. A symbol to us Romans and Roma fans.
Being born Romans and Roma fans is a privilege, being the captain of this team has been an honor. You are and you will always be in my life. I won’t be able to excite you with my feet anymore, but my heart will always be there with you.
Now I’ll go down the stairs, I’ll go into the locker rooms that met me when I was a kid, and I will leave as an adult.
I am very proud and happy to have given you 28 years of love. I LOVE YOU. “
The fact that you didn’t even try to include me in your newly made friend circle is what made me sad the most. If you had done that and I had known I clearly didn’t belong, then I would’ve been able to give up on you instead of being left with these suffocating feelings.
i dont think you understand the gravity of ford failing a project. this ain’t art class in high school. ford’s at that university on scholarships and loans alone. if his gpa drops, he loses scholarship money, and he can’t afford that. so failing a project goes far beyond sad and angry and any simple “cheering up”, because ford is the kind of person to see one failed project as total failure that is absolutely unacceptable.
my boss called me today because he was mad that I filled out an application to Starbucks as a 3rd job (on top of his + an internship) since they offer tuition assistance and health insurance which I need to go back to school & set up a psychiatrist appointment to get medication & a letter for my MIs. even though I did everything I was supposed to at work and have never done anything “wrong” before, this now means that i’m essentially unemployed until I land another job somewhere soon. In his words, He puts “food on my table” so looking for more work is a “kick in the balls”. so now I don’t have a way to put food on the table, because that makes sense, apparently.
if you can help me at ALL just so I can take care of rent & groceries & my phone bill for a few weeks, please send me something on PayPal/Cash/Venmo (links below). on one hand i’m relieved I won’t be working for a racist & transphobic capitalist anymore but this financial stress is a lot right now and my partner and I are both 19 and barely financially stable since we’re so young.
lmk if there’s anything I can do for you in return. thanks <3
friends with a lot of people who are internet famous (for their art, for political activism, for their engagement in fandoms, etc) and have a large follower
base. I’ve witnessed more than my fair share of them being harassed
for the things they do (as well as gotten some of it myself), but the most outrageous stuff always comes
from ppl inside their communities.
gotten to the point where you can’t state an opinion anymore without
getting hate or worse for it. People forgot over the anonymity of the
internet that there is a real life person behind the name, and that
being able to disagree as well as listen to someone’s reasoning
before throwing them under the bus, is a character strength.
even go as far as to saying that opening conversations about problematic things and with
problematic people is in and of itself wrong and problematic. but
if we don’t have dialogue, how are ppl supposed to understand us? or
how do we understand them? And if there is no understanding how are we supposed to find solutions and bridge the gap?
rules: reimagine your founder (or a sim you made as an adult) as a teen! maybe even on prom night? & tag ‘the edge of sims’
Willow was bullied pretty severely as a kid. I guess Apple Loosa Pie just wasn’t the place to be for a young, homeless catgirl… She spent a good portion of her childhood trying to embrace her catty tendencies, like her mother did, but she just couldn’t handle the bullying. By the time she was 14, she was smashing her ears down under a hat and hiding her nose the best that she could with makeup. It didn’t help; nothing did. Still, she hoped that one day she could move away and stop being known as “Willow the weird cat.”