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@dixonbridget-blog
The fuck, Dixon? It was just a bloody owl. Donāt act like yeāve never seen one eat a rat before. Itās what they do.
That's rank. Sometimes I wonder whether it's worth even having owls around the house, all Herbert does is fly around and leave presents in the form of rodents outside the door.
What?
I didnāt say anything.
I swear you said something.
I must be going batty.
See what? What am I seeing? Dixon ā Dixon, what am I supposed to be seeing?Ā
It was bright pink and running down the alley. Did someone charm a stick of fairy floss?
Did anyone see that? Or am I going mad?
You know, Iām not even perturbed by that thought.
What thought?
What the hell are you doing?
This is theĀ girl's locker room?
'Make me a pretty princess', he says. 'Go lift weights', he says. Don't worry, it's not like I've got a hangover worse than Harry Potter's bloody scar poundin' in my head.
'least I get t'give these new gloves a run for their money.Ā
Ooh, hullo, Noel.Ā
I'm so daft, I apparated to the wrong pitch...
This shouldnāt be so complicatedā¦ Whyāre all the ingredients so expensive? MoondewĀ andĀ runespoor egg? This is going to beat down my wallet.Ā
Hangover cure or weird concoction? YouĀ areĀ absurd, Wieland.
two minutes till midnight and the world is slowing down // self para
The alcohol Bridget had consumed had flowed to her head, she could feel the blood rush her cheeks and her heart beat faster. The violent thrum of the music did little to help with the exhilaration Bridget felt running through her veins. She stumbled through the sweltering crowds of half-naked bodies and glowing paint, searching in vain for her brother. A poisonous mixture of intoxication, pent-up frustration and loud music had compelled Bridget to search for her brother, so she could demonstrate exactly what she was feeling. Her mouth still tasted of bile from earlier, but it had done nothing to her state of delirium.Ā
Pushing herself through the crowd of bodies that moved in tandem to the beat of the music, she stumbled into a circle of party-goers who watched in awe as a twenty-something male poured a a bottle of champagne and firewhiskey into his mouth, while a perky blonde sat on his shoulders. She stumbled ungraciously towards Benji, who only continued to douse himself in alcohol. Bridget wrenched the two bottles of alcohol from him and let them smash on the floor, creating a spitting amber puddle, flecked with glittering shards of glass, āWho do you think you are?ā her voice cracked as she sneered at him in disdain, āYou think you can just fuck around, using my fame and money as means to get smashed at parties and get off with girls? I donāt think so. If you think I worked my arse off on the field to let you squander everything Iāve done, youāve got your knickers in a twist,ā She gave a pointed glare at the girl on her brotherās shoulders, āYouād best be off now, we donāt need more than oneĀ casualtyĀ for the night.āĀ
She licked her lips and gave an exasperated huff at the look of disbelief plastered on her brotherās face. āConsider this a warning Benji, stop fucking around at my expense or Iāll make your life a living hell.ā Bridget turned, glass cracking under her feet and the small crowd that had gathered around her parting for her to make her leave. As she stalked out of the warehouse she heard the loud booms overhead as the midnight fireworks shot into the sky, igniting the inky blue with dazzling colours.Ā She shook her head at the colourful display and apparated out of the warehouse grounds, āFuck the new year.āĀ
Anyone in there?
Donāt have to tell me twice. Hereās to Being Responsible and Knowing Your Limits.Ā
Now where can I get five more of these?Ā
Yes, here's to being Ā responsible and taking care of irresponsible siblings. To a better year than this one.
I've got an entire bottle more where that came from. Plenty more to share.
If it gets decorated Iāll ditch it before it gets too destroyed. I just know better now for next year.
Iāve been drinking this vodka tequila stuff. Maybe more of that? Itās intense but wonderful.
Alright, poor me a glass. Can't be too harmful can it? They say that if you mix alcohols, it's worse for you, but I reckon it's better.
Weāre not all of the same lot, of course, some of us are less concerned with fact-checking than others. I can only speak for myself, not my colleagues. But I wouldnāt have lasted in the industry as long as I did without some journalistic integrity. And Iāve always wanted to be a reporter.
It's good to have dreams. A dream and a load of hard-work, eventually pays off. But what do I know, the Quidditch world might just fuck me over one of these days, it's unpredictable.
It's good to know that you're one of the more honest ones. I can't help but notice that most of your industry is filled with the lying type.Ā
the sound drowns passing time // charlie & bridget
Infatuated by his surroundings, Charlie couldnāt seem to focus on anything for more than a moment. āYeah, teasing.ā He mumbled to himself, sure that she couldnāt hear a word he was saying. He gazed back at Bridget and raised an eyebrow at her grin. He couldnāt dance, he knew that and he was hoping that he could distract Bridget enough so that she didnāt realise he couldnāt either. His hand slipped onto her waist, a technique heād learnt tends to distract girls a lot more than it gave credit for.
"Mm, yeah we probably should, B." He smirked, drunkenly slurring into the girlās ear. "At least it isnāt twelve yet, Iād need to find someone to kiss and the wall isnāt going to be an option." He swayed to the music slightly, his drunk mind telling him things that he should be ignoring but couldnāt help but contemplate.
Bridget felt Charlie's hands rest on her waist and her body responded by turning bright red. At that moment Bridget was grateful that the black light was there to shroud her from further embarrassment. There bodies moved awkwardly together to the beat of the music, but the buzz in Bridget's head did wonders to block out the horrors of their dancing. For a moment Bridget felt a nervous flitter in her stomach, but a second later, she realised that it had nothing to do with the person in front of her, but everything to do with the contents of her stomach.
"Fuck, I think I'm going to be sick." Bridget muttered incoherently into her hand, before hurling herself towards the bathroom.Ā
Thatās just what I say, but most Quidditchers are convinced that the press is out to get them. We ask questions and then publish the answers that we find, thereās nothing horrible about telling a story.
It's hard to believe that all the press are on the straight and narrow. SomeĀ interesting stories have been published about all of us. Can't say I'm convinced that each reporter is as honest as you seem.
the sound drowns passing time // charlie & bridget
"Uh.." Was Charlieās dry throated reply when Bridget brought up kissing her at midnight. That would be wrong wouldnāt it? They were just really good friends and that would be stupid of them to kiss or even contemplate it. Then again they didnāt have anybody else and it wouldnāt hurt, it didnāt mean anything it was just a silly tradition that neither of them would remember in the morning, even if he did end up kissing her nobody would recall.
Swallowing hard against his sandpaper throat, he watched her move to the music with an intoxicated gaze, he was about to say how nice she looked but his mind flickered back to nothing but a few minutes ago, and heād already said that. āYeah well Iād like to think so,ā Charlie sniggered slightly and then started swaying to the sound that filled the room, he knew this song and he liked it, but he couldnāt focus on it right now. āWhat time is it?ā He leant forward and nearly yelled into his team mateās ear.
Bridget snorted at Charlie's stilted reaction to her comment about the two of them snogging and felt a small frown tug at her lips, "Don't worry mate, I'm only teasing," she watched as the neon painted bodies created a mirage of swirling colours and couldn't help but thank Harry for installing black lights, which made it hard to make out anyone's face. Turning back to Charlie Bridget gave a grin, she couldn't tell if Charlie was properly repulsed at the idea of kissing her at midnight or if the alcohol made his responses slow, either way it made the grin she sported on her face a little more forced than before.Ā
She raked her hand through her tangled hair and her eyes flickered to what sheĀ thoughtĀ was Charlie's face. In the black light she could hardly tell. Bridget blinked in surprise when she suddenly felt his hot breath against her ear, "I dunno the time, maybe we should go ask someone," she murmured almost incoherently, still jilted from surprise, "probably something like 11 o'clock?". A little less sober and a little more sweaty than before her drinks, time wasn't a tangible concept to grasp. Ā
Yeah, if I were Harry Iād have put the word āraveā on the invite in giant neon letters. Not that I mind. Iād just rather not need to ditch my dress tonight.
But I suppose if everyone else is doing itā¦ drink?
Your dress is nice, so maybe it's in your best interest that you keep it on. Or maybe off, dunno, depends on whether you get sprayed with glow paint.
Definitely a drink. What do you want?
I donāt know how you can hear anything over all that bass.Ā
Theyāre white.
You're obnoxiously loud, you drown out the bass.
They're grey with a white belly.
