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#I have like 25 days till classes start & not really much of anything on the schedule until then
littlebirdy0301 · 1 year
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guess who’s finally gonna really try so super hard to learn how to drive :)
#I have my permit for the 2nd time & I am DETERMINED this time man#First I had a learners permit in highschool at 17#I was in a god awful place mentally. A combination of suicidal ideation & intrusive thoughts about crashing kinda made me give up learning#Then I got a motorcycle permit to try and drive a motor scooter#But the safety course was like “hey btw most of the danger comes from cars not paying enough attention to you & you can’t do shit about it!#So I got massive anxiety about it and could only drive on small back roads. + motorcycles feel So Much Faster which made the anxiety worse#I ended up letting that permit expire too#Now I’m finally at a point where I’m not super busy and have less car anxiety and WAAAAYYY less depression#My suicidal ideation is gone & my intrusive thoughts don’t affect me nearly as much#And recently I got more free time for a little while so I studied for the class C permit test again & a couple days ago I passed :)#And today I drove a car for the first time in like 5 years & it was ok!#I have like 25 days till classes start & not really much of anything on the schedule until then#So I’m gonna try my best to practice a decent amount this month & hopefully get a behind the wheels lesson in from a good instructor#And hopefully should be comfy enough to drive to & from school with my dad in the car#I have classes 4 days a week so that’ll be guaranteed practice on some bigger roads#There’s also a few ways to get there so I can start w the route that’s 70% small road and work my way up to practice big roads & freeways#Trying my very hardest to beat the Can’t Drive Gay accusations
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joanofexys · 4 months
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gimme the Jude lore
okay okay Jude Reyes lore incoming
little breakdown first:
26 years old
he/him, pansexual, cis
played for the Trojans for 5 years
graduated with a degree in sports journalism
has adhd and depression (in the rambling bit tw right now for mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts tying into this)
only child and still upset about it
does the most out of all my ocs to work with college players, spends a lot of his free time flying out to different colleges to work with coaches and teams cause he likes and he enjoys it (gets a lot of teasing about becoming a coach in the future)
knows english and spanish
and oh yeah he's a dealer who will play as an extra backliner if needed
blonde, 6'3, big brown eyes
got his ears pierced cause Mara said he'd chicken out
So yeah Jude graduated from USC at the age of 23 and he was recruited for olympic court when he was 25. He considers the Trojan's his family and still keeps in touch with all the upper classmen who he used to play with. He's very much taken the Trojan attitude into his professional career. He's known as a team player on the court and also a huge activist off the court. He's now involved in presenting the Day Spirit Award every year and he's incredibly proud to have been apart of the team consistently winning it. While Ilya falls into the Just Some Guy category, Jude really takes it up like 10 levels into Golden Child territory. He's the favored one for press duty and is most involved with his teams social media. He's usually the one to sit down for the little games or the ask me anything's or the interviews everyone else deems pointless.
tw for self harm and suicide mentions, you can skip to the next bolded line if you need to
Jude was diagnosed with depression when he was 19 after he came to Rhemann confessing that he had been self harming for a few months after the workload with his class got more difficult for him to manage and he started thinking about committing suicide. He was diagnosed with adhd a few years later when he was 22 and now he now manages both with a mixture of therapy and medication. He's not perfect and obviously that didn't get rid of his depression but he has always had a safe space to talk about it and to get the help he needs. He advocates a lot for mental health in general but especially where athletes where it tends to get ignored with all the pressure put on them and he brings that into all of his relationships with his teammates trying to create a safe space for them. He is a huge factor in actually getting Em, Mara, and Florian to see therapists and he's who Florian calls after his 5th attempt and takes him to the hospital.
okay heavy bit over
I need y'all to know that Jude popped into my head literally today. He was named like 3 hours ago. So this is all just kind of developing as I yap about him. He's big on team inclusion. Doesn't want anyone to feel left out. At first Ilya really butted heads with Mara and Florian cause they were Raven's and Jude was basically the one to get sick of that and tell them they needed to shut the fuck up and put on their get along t-shirt
He's generally pretty outgoing and he loves a good party. And by party he means hosting his team and having some food and drinks and visiting with every one. Though he does go a little crazy after a win and he will probably not get home till like 6 in the morning and then will sleep for a full 24 hours
He comes off as very loud and flirtatious to most people, most people will think he is flirting even when he isn't and he has accidentally agreed to multiple dates before realizing they were dates and having to awkwardly let people down. He doesn't really date much, not seriously, largely because of how involved he is with the media portion of his job. If he does end up dating (and I don't have anyone set up for him yet) it'd most likely be another exy player who is also super involved with the media and interacting with the press
and yeah that's a little bit about Jude
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upward-stair · 3 months
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R+R 3: Time Perception and It's Hold On my Life
Since I was in elementary school I've always been extremely aware of time like how long it would take to get places, how long certain things took to do and how much time people spent preforming certain tasks. For the longest time I kept a watch and would compulsively check it every 30 minutes to am hour. Some days it was so bad I would check it even if I already knew the approximate or even the exact time. I no longer have a watch on me everyday but I do still check the time rather frequently.
Something that I find myself doing now that I'm more responsible for me own appointments and general schedule is I will mentally map out how long it will take for me to finish all task that atr nessisary for me to get to the main event of the plan. I'll provide an example using a doctor's appointment.
Let's say that I have a doctor's appointment at 9:30 am (I always start my days early). Either as I wake up or the night before I would think the following sequence in my head.
Ex:
"I have my alarm set for 8:00am and waze(a GPS app) says that It will take me 27 minutes to get there. That means I take 15 minutes in the bathroom till 8:15 then I pick and choose an outfit in 10 minutes. I'll likely only use 5 of those minutes to actually dress up but the rest is for any sort of procrastination till the next task at 8:25. After that I will gather any materials I need for the outing(🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈/hj) till 8:40 to account for anything I miss doing before or as a buffer for if I wake up late, procrastinate or get side tracked doing something else. From 8:40 till 8:50 I prepare and/or consume breakfast. After that I prepare music for the ride there and hopefully arrive early on account of the extra time I built in. "
Its quite a lot especially considering it usually only takes one phone call from someone else or a demand from my mother to ruin the plan but I always do it for everything.
This also leads me into my need to be early and do so consistently. All for my senior year of highschool school always started at 8:10am but I always wanted to be in the building or at least at the parking lot by 7:42 am. It was to the point where if I was a minute late I would become stressed and anxious even though I would always be early or at least on time if I had stopped to talk to a friend or my partner or needed to complete a task prior ro attending class.
Another aspect of how it controls my life is when I can track information (I will be making a post about this eventually) from it. One thing that really annoyed me when I first started using Tumblr is that by default times and dates are all removed from posts. You can turn it on in settings but it made it feel as if I was always just looking at things that happened forever ago instead of recently. How I use time on posts for example is to determine the mood of my mutuals (very few on here usually more on Instagram and other places). If I see that a person posts that they are mad about something at 2pm. and they post something that they like at 4pm typically (obviously it's person specific but I'm generalizing here) they are over that topic or have pushed it to the side for temporary joy. In the other circumstance though 4pm post about the same thing or a similar thing means that I usually inquire about the topic if nessisary. It also leads me to track when specific actions took place based on memory (not based on post time but general time and sequence of events). If I lost my keys after coming home in the after noon at 3 and I know that at 4:10(I don't usually remember the time just the event orders) I was on a call where I was spinning them on my fingers and I accidentally flung it behind something but never picked it up then I will check there first. It also leads me to track people and their actions (not in a weird way. I am not stalking people even though it would be easy for me to). Say I know someone that can't drive has a date at 4:30pm and we have a text conversation from 4pm to 4:15 pm. If the conversation was on hobbies they maybe thinking about what they will say on the date especially considering if it's their first date with this person. I can also conclude that they may be taking public transport or may have hitched a ride with another friend to get there and Depending on where they live and where the date is I may even be able to note their location at a specific time based on how long they've been going for. Again not in a creepy stalker way. More of a you presented the information and I connected the dots way (instead of actively looking for it). Back to school, I did a similar thing with how I memorize the schedules of all my friends because they just talked about their classes at specific times.
thanks for reading and remember that windows and mirrors both show you the world but you can only pass through one of them
-Q
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opedguy · 2 years
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Democrats Go After George Santos
LOS ANGELES (OnlineColumnist.com), Jan. 15, 2023.--Calling for 34-year-old Rep.George Santos’ (R-N.Y.) resignation, House Democrats try to pressure House Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-N.Y.), hoping to pick up one more seat in Congress.  Santos fabricated or exaggerated parts of his background, annoying both Democrats and Republicans but could not stop Sanstos from getting sworn in Jan. 5, along with other 222 Republicans in the House.  When you consider Santos latch-key background, immigrating from Brazil, raised by a single mother, learning the language and competing in the American school of hard knocks, it’s remarkable he’s still alive let alone a member of Congress.  Santos is a classic case of fake-in-till-you-make it, a kind of immigrant success story, despite the factual inaccuracies about his educational and work histories.  At the same time, many politicians, including the current White House occupant, has made up plenty of stories.
President Joe Biden, 80, did not graduate in the top of his Syracuse Law School class, more at the bottom.  Biden did not march with the late Nelson Mandela to end apartheid in South Africa but often tells people  he did.  When Joe visited South Africa in the 1980s, Mandela was serving 25-year sentence in Robben Island prison.  Yet Biden, while running for president in 2020, touted his time spent with Mandela. Many other Democrat and Republicans elected officials have fabricated or made up parts of their resumes, including former Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton.  She once told a 2016 campaign audience, while First Lady in 1978, her helicopter was strafed with bullets entering Sarajevo during the Bosnian-Serbian War.  Santos exaggerated more because he came from a poor background without to much excitement other than making ends meet.
Growing up in poverty with high ambitions can create an Imposter Syndrome, where a struggling person starts to believe their own fiction, regardless of how preposterous or exaggerated.  So, before Democrats condemn Santos with so much venom they need to consider his upbringing, recognize that his constituents did voter for him due to his resume but because they liked his positive message and persona.  “I haven’t even introduced my self to him because it’s pretty despicable lies that he told,” said Republican James Comer (R-Ky.), Chairman of the House Oversight Committee. “But at at the end of the day, it’s not to me or any other member of Congress to determine whether he could be kicked out for lying.  Now if he broke campaign finance laws, then he will be removed from Congress,” Comer said.  Some Democrats already complained how Santos lent his campaign $705,000.
As Comer said, its investigators can’t account for the $705,000 personal loan to his campaign, then appropriates steps can be taken to verify whether any campaign finance laws were broken.  In the meantime, as Comer said, it’s up of Santo’s constituents to decide what, if anything, to do about his fabricated resume.  “He’s a bad guy.  This is something that—it’s really bad.  He’s not the first politician, unfortunately, to make it in Congress, to lie,” Comer said, letting the press know that Republicans are also concerned about his fabrications.  Comer, as many other members of Congress, know nothing about an Imposter Syndrome, where an individual believes his own fiction, becomes so much a part of his personality that he can’t detect lies from the truth.  So, when it comes to someone dealing with Santos, elected officials must at least consider how Imposter Syndrome affects Santos reality.
Most liberal media outlets want Santos out so they can run another Democrat for the seat.  But the problem is more complicated that just spreading lies on a resume but considering the whole package.  “He’s going to be under strict ethics investigations, no necessarily for lying but for his campaign finance potential violations,” said Comer.  Comer wanted the press to know that it’s not up to members of Congress to correct his biography for the record.  That’s up to historians and other investigators that want to get the record straight.  “So I think that Santos is being examined thoroughly.  It his decision whether or not he should resign, It’s not my decision.  But certainly I don’t approve of how he made his way to Congress,” Comer said.  Democrats and members of the press see an opportunity for another Democrat to step into Santos seat, one less seat to make up in the 2024 election.
Members of Congress and the press need to look into the Imposter Syndrome before they try to tar-and-feather 34-year-old Rep. George Santos.  His story defies all the odds, growing up in poverty, but, more importantly, not having the opportunity or money to go a normal path through the education or work systems.  Santo told people his mother worked her way up from the bottom to become a corporate executive, part of his fiction to bolster his damaged self-esteem.  All accounts show his mother, who brought him from City of God, a slum outside Rio de Janeiro, to Queens worked as a domestic help. Whatever Santos had to tell himself to keep from giving up, he managed, in spite of the odds, to succeed by developing his Imposter Syndrome.  Members of Congress and the press need to cut him some slack in what constitutes one of the remarkable immigrant stories in U.S. history.  Whether he violated campaign finance laws is another story.  Before that’s determined, he’s a member of Congress..
About the Author.
John M. Curtis writes politically neutral commentary analyzing spin in national and global news. He’s editor of OnlineColumnist.com and author of Dodging The Bullet and Operation Charisma.
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chicoriii · 3 years
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Season 4, Episode 20 - Qilin
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It's been quite some time after premiere of Qilin and Penalteam, but as I've said before, I was waiting for the French premiere of last four episodes of season 4, since I completely dislike the English dub and I prefer to avoid watching this show in that language if I can. I started with Qilin, though Penalteam was aired a week earlier in France. I was planning to wait for Qilin release anyway, but since the war in Ukraine started, following the content about it and related to it takes quite much of my time everyday, sometimes more, sometimes less (though mostly I watch or rather listen to YouTube videos during doing something else). In few first days I was unable to concentrate on watching the show anyway. The war is in my neighbouring country and it also affects my own one a lot. Remember that Ukrainians are fighting not only for independence of their country, they are fighting for the Europe and the whole world. Poland isn't as safe as we all thought before, despite we're in both NATO and EU unlike Ukraine. Putin must be stopped for the safety of all us.
I don't know French, but I have one simple trick to get subtitles to watch the remaining episodes in language of my choice. I just rip the subtitle files from the Hulu releases. They including the American scripts of course, so they're are not ideal, but that's better than nothing. Besides Hulu is using different frame rate (23.976 fps) than other releases like Disney+ or TFOU's service (25 fps). Simple changing frame rates of subtitles isn't working ideal, I still need to manually shift time while watching, but that's not a big problem. I'm still glad that I found a solution, so I'm not forced to watch the dub that annoys me. ;)
Unfortunately, there was a problem with the French video of Qilin I got that's ripped from the TFOU's service. For some reasons there are few minutes missing, two fragments got cut. I noticed it thanks to the subtitles, since at some point text stopped to correspond to the video. Still it took some time to figure out why. I suppose something went wrong during uploading the video on the site. One of the early S4 episodes also got corrupted there. So well, since I hadno other choice than watching these missing minutes in English, I can say I don't change my opinion, I still think that the American dub is so awful, soulless and so generic. Only Shadow Moth voice was okay to me. Sorry.
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And you know what? I have no idea what to say about this episode, so this post should be one of the shortest and the weakest one I have written about season 4. The first part of it was quite nice, but the second one when the ticket drama started was way too absurd to me. I hate when the plot of this show is that stupidly exaggerated. It reminded me Mega Leech that's one of the worst S4 episodes in my opinion for its absurd plot that felt more like a episode of Peppa Pig or another show for preschoolers than targeted for older kids.
It was really nice to see Sabine's everyday routine and all. That she is better organised than Marinette, but also we've seen what Marinette has from her mother. That was unexpected that Sabine is interested at art like her (though totally different type). I'm also surprised that she has a job outside of working at the bakery. If I got a chance I would be interested at getting some Chinese painting classes as well. It was also surprising to see Lila there, it seems that's her biggest this season till now (remember that I haven't seen Penalteam nor Risk yet, maybe she got any speaking role in any of them, I don't know yet). I don't think it's going to be significant for the plot, but I very like the fact we've seen that Lila has life outside of being a bad girl, there's something that interests her in positive way.
But there's one thing that bothers me. Sabine has been portrayed totally one-dimensional. She's another way too much idealised character, too noble, she is also too ideal mother. She hadn't done anything even a little wrong in the entire episode. I don't like characters without a weak points, they are so boring. So yeah, Sabine is a good mother, but she's not a type of character I can care about much.
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Despite that I thought it's going to be a decent episode until that ticket accident happened. I don't want to comment how stupid it was that they started to treat Sabine like a terrorist just because she had no ticket or a wallet with her for a moment. Besides the akuma battle could in my top 5 the worst this season and I don't want to waste my time to write anything about that as well. So unfortunately, the whole second half of the episode was much worse than the first one. Not nearly as bad to me as some of other this season's episodes, just stupidly absurd (that happens from time to time in all seasons) and boring. Not to mention this is another episode without Adrien (as civilian) and Plagg at all, and since I lost most of my sympathy for Marinette throughout S4, this episode has not much to offer for me generally.
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I wonder if was that said before that Chat Noir's umbrella is a magical weapon? I don't remember that. It looks like one, since it seems to be completely indestructible. I remember that umbrella appeared once only to protect against rain (but I have no idea in which episode, since I don't rewatch any since Hack-san). I thought it was just a one-time thing to make another reference to the famous umbrella scene. If it's a new Chat's skill, why wasn't it properly introduced? Geez, that's another thing this season that appeared out of nowhere without explaining how. It makes this season feels incomplete like we're missing something.
Also I have a feeling it was the ugliest episode this season. Looking at the picture below just hurts (pay attention at Marinette's eyes and the shading). Although generally I think the animation quality of S4 is better than seasons 2 and 3, not a lot, but still. And at least I like Qilin design and especially her color scheme.
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In France the whole season finale is going to be aired this weekend, at 13rd March, so thankfully just one day after the international premiere of Strike Back. I would prefer to see both episodes as fast as possible because I'm worried about spoilers (I've already accidentaly seen something big in my mobile's Google feed and I hate that, I'm not saying what in this post, because it could be read by someone who tries to avoid spoilers like me, I can't be sure if it's a spoiler for any of the finale's episode, but it should be). And mostly because I still read Miraculous fanfics and I'm sure that after premiere of Strike Back there are going to be post-S4 fics with spoilers in the tags and/or summary without warning on AO3. That always happen after premiere of big episodes those bring a lot of emotion in the fandom. I plan to stop scrolling through AO3 to search for any interesting fic after premiere of Strike Back in the USA until I see the finale, but I don't want that to take too long. But definitely I'm not going to watch both episodes in one day and I plan to write two separate posts, because since it's the finale, I expect that I'm gonna to have many things to say about both of them. It would most probably take too much time to do it in one day, knowing my writing speed which is rather slow, especially not in my native language (I don't mean typing speed, that's not too bad when using computer keyboard, but thinking what to write and how to create sentences is another story), and I always takes breaks. Because of that I hope I will be able to watch Penalteam before Sunday, maybe even tomorrow. I've also seen spoilers from this episode, including its final card which is extremely spoilery. :/ At least I know that should be more interesting than Qilin and more plot focused, so I feel I'm a bit more willing to watch it soon.
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Far too much (Kuvira x Fem!Reader)
This is part 2 to Close enough? And I’m so thankful for all the people that interacted with my first written work!! So here’s this, I had so much fun writing it! If you guys wanna see somethin more specific or have ideas, send ‘em my way! Love you!!
WC: 5200 (almost 2x my last one!) TW: none that i’m aware of, lemme know though <3
You felt as stupid as a raccoon-toad.
When the  avatar came to collect you to travel back to Zaofu, you were excited because you were going back home, even if you were being punished for your crimes. Unfortunately, Suyin had extended the invitation to the other individuals who were also from Zaofu. It seemed that she was sentimental and decided that every one needed a second chance.
So you were stuck with a bunch of people that you were not entirely fond of, especially when they heard of what happened to Kuvira. After that, you could just feel the glares they sent your way, which was annoying because that’s all they did. They just stared and would raise their stupid eyebrows. Why couldn’t they just get over it and shove it? It didn’t help that your injury still required attendance by healers and physical therapy. So even if you wanted to avoid all attention, it was a little pointless when they said you could only apply yourself for a couple of hours before resting. 
There was a constant dull throb in your side, no matter the number of healers. Sometimes it would chill out but when you were awake for too long or when you skipped a meal, it would come back and stiffen your back. It was a constant battle and there were some times that you just wished that Kuvira double tapped you. It could've saved a lot of emotional and physical turmoil. 
So, back to the situation on hand. You and several others were on a train that would stop in the heart of the Metal Clan. After that, each person would be sent to a camp that was ran by a horse faced individual who lacked the sympathy of a real person. You were told to call him General Zheng, if you ever saw him, and after that he left to go talk to the head of the guard. You and the others were hustled into a medical looking outlet, and each person was given a platinum band around each left ankle. 
“It’s to make sure you don’t leave and to make sure you obey. Can’t have you running around like hen-ducks, right?”
ugh.
..
It had been several days since you had arrived in Zaofu. By then, everyone had been stationed with their community service and you started to get used to the schedule given. General Zhen said since you had to serve the community as your punishment, you could choose your schedule, basically saying, “How long do you really wanna do this?”. You could remain under order until your sentence was done or you could rush it out and leave it early. As early as you could anyway with a 25 year sentence. You decided to go with the latter; even with your injury, you thought that you could cut it by a year or two which sounded pretty minimal but you’d take anything at this point. At 10am you would wake up and eat then head towards the outskirts of the ring. There, you would begin to bend the metal together to create cohesive pieces for other workers to make into the plates that would create the dome. Others were tasked with mining the actual ore, and they were even paid for that, but you had to create the joints for them. Sitting and concentrating for about 8 hours a day would cause you to slouch and then you’d get yelled at by the healers. Who were scarier than a guy on cactus juice. You’d visit the healers once a week and they would see if your scar had healed or if it was infected. After seeing them, you would head over to the park where they held physical therapy outside. It was really nice to see all of nature while an old lady calmly coaxes you into the tree pose. Gaining balance was the hardest because your brain was trying to compensate for the strain in your side. You also kinda wanted to punch the lady because that’s is as far as I go stop pushing me areyoutuchingmerightnowareyouserious.
Needless to say, it was nice to go back to the plain gray walls of your (holding cell) room and just breathe quietly by yourself. 
Then you got used to your routine which was a mistake because then something had to go and mess it up. And who else would it be if not for the very person who put you here?
..
Madam Jilpa was going to be the death of you. That near death experience you had? Insignificant to the pain that this woman was gracing you with. You wanted to strangle her. She was super nice about your wound, saying how it was healing well and then she manhandled you into a position to “stretch your muscles, you’re awfully sore, my dear.” You rolled your shoulders and exhaled as you left the park. Ever since you came back, people avoided you like the plague and it made the anklet a little more tighter each time. Doesn’t help that it was platinum so it just seemed that it was mocking you every time you caught a glimpse of it. Stupid thing. Stupid city. Stupid community service. Stupid- who is that?
You were strolling through the main street of the city, heading to the store when you saw her. Kuvira. The devil herself. Was I thinking about her? Is that why she’s here? Oh god, she can’t see me, what do i do? Where am I gonna hide? You panicked and slid into the nearest shop, which happened to be a tea shop. Luckily there was a line so you didn’t look too odd. Unluckily, the shop had big glass windows. So as much as you could see her, she could possibly see you? Maybe? You dipped next to the door and peeked out, wondering why Kuvira would be away from the estate. Then you saw the entire Beifong family, whelp. That answers your question. No better way to survey someone than surround them with powerful earthbenders. As your eyes glazed over their faces, you saw Bataar Jr. and Kuvira at the back of the pack. You couldn’t tell if they were talking but they looked like they were standing next to each other, and the evil voice in your head wouldn’t stop talking about how they looked. Together. 
Not wanting to add mental therapy to your list of visitation rights, you decided to exit the tea shop and go back the way you came. Back to your plain gray room. Because who needs closure when you have, uh, gray pillows and plain bagels?
After that train wreck, it didn’t stop.
Suyin (it felt wrong to call her Su) had talked to the General and they made a plan to talk to each of the prisoners. To really decide if they are evil or not. You could make that decision with the way that these people would play Pai Sho, some of them were just cruel and malicious and a better punishment would be to shove em in the boiling rock. 
Unfortunately you were on that list of visits and it was 3 days from now. They even accepted letters from family members. So that you could read how disappointed they are, one more time. But! It was written so it had sentimental value. You felt nauseous when you saw your name scrawled on the letter. Better now than later, it would seem.
Y/n,
I remember the day you were born. You were a screaming ball of anger and you wouldn’t stop crying until you were placed on my chest. Then you shushed and swooned. I knew then and there that I would love you till the day I die and every day after. And it seems that even now, I feel the same way. But, I know now that some paths are a little crowded and you lost your way. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you find the light in this dim world, but I just wanted you to know that you are my light. And that is all that matters. When you first left, I was left with irreplaceable pain because in a way, you had left me. But you were just touching the ground and spreading your fingers. You thought you knew best and I’m proud of you for sticking with it. But now that you see the end of this journey, you must stick with the repercussions. That is what it means to find the light and settle with it. You face your decisions and lay with the judgements. I’m glad that you came back to Zaofu. Hopefully, one day, I’ll be able to see your beautiful face again.
Love always,
Mom and Dad
A chip had left your shoulder. Thank the spirits. You could feel the wetness on your cheeks from the compassion from your parents. Perhaps they were right. 
Bracing yourself with these words of encouragement, you faced Suyin with strong shoulders and a flinch in your side (cause, honestly, the tea isn’t that good at keeping the pain down).
When you were growing up, your parents had tried everything to stop you from sneaking out of the house. They tried metal bars, they tried positive reinforcements, they tried every parental trick in the book. They couldn’t keep you from whatever entranced you from the house. The only person who ever humored you and whoever treated you with some semblance of respect was Kuvira, or ‘Vee, when you were kids. Granted, she also had a rocky relationship but what’s a pot and what’s a kettle? When your parents finally noticed where you were going when you left, they talked to Su about it. If they couldn’t keep you down, they’ll just make sure that nothing bad happens. Because of that, you would spend many hours on the Beifong estate, surrounding yourself with other earthbenders and playing games with the other kids. As you grew, you started to notice how Opal would talk about the cute boy in her class or how Wing and Wei would blush when the dance recitals were held. But, as you got older, all you could think about was how pretty ‘Vee’s eyes were. How green they were, and how much they sparkled when she talked about how she finally joined the guard. How the tank tops she wore outlined her shoulders. You never noticed that when other people were looking outside, that you had found your view right in front of you. Su noticed of course, being the romantic that she was, she got so excited whenever her children were talking about love. Su knew you well, and when Kuvira left Zaofu, she had a feeling that you would leave with her. She had tried so hard to understand you, but she was so angry. Angry at Bataar Jr, angry at Kuvira, angry about everything, that she forgot that you got the short end of the stick too.
So she was nervous too when she invited you over. 
The door had opened by then even when you hoped that it would remain shut for a little while longer. A guard had escorted you from your quarters into the matriarch’s afternoon room and she was seated near a window that looked to the sprawling estate of the Metal Clan. She looked up at you and smiled softly, and even from the doorway, you could tell that she had gotten older. Maybe not physically, but her eyes were a little wiser and a little more battle worn. 
You had settled into the opposite chair, with some grace that you managed to muster, and she had offered you tea. It smelled of lemon and blueberries and you couldn’t help but relax. You couldn’t help it, seeing Su as a mother figure made you wistful of all the memories you shared. With those came remorse and you immediately felt guilty. 
“Thank you for allowing me to come back to Zaofu, Su-Suyin, I am eternally grateful that you have allowed me back after what I did,” you said. After your stutter, it seemed your words came in a rush, unable to be held back.
“I wanted to apologize for leaving in the first place. I didn’t realise that I was blind to all the hurt that occurred when this thing started and I should’ve noticed when the first person that was wounded was you. I thought that I knew what I was doing when I left because I thought Ku-” you inhaled sharply, “I thought she would be the answer. It was wrong of me to place such big standards on her without thinking of the consequences. I know now that I followed her out of personal feeling, and not logic. I will forever be humbled by the events that happened and I just hope that you may forgive me. I am incredibly regretful of turning my back on you Su, I wish my eyes had stayed open a little longer.” 
You were a little choked up and you finally pulled your eyes away from your tea cup to look at Su, finding her eyes already on you. Tears were pooling in her eyes and she was softly smiling. 
Laughing softly, she speaks. 
“You don’t speak often but when you do, you speak,” she sighs and looks outside again.
“I must admit that the most heartbreaking thing was watching Kuvira walk out because i knew that if she left, you would too. It's been that way since you were children. Little younglings running across the estate, throwing rocks and giggling to yourselves. I knew when she left that you would go. You follow the ones you love, you want them in your lives so you do what you must. I understand the feeling well.”
She looks at you and stands from her seat, walking around the table and kneeling at your side.
Softly, she places her hands on yours and squeezes. 
“When I saw you on the floor, my mind ran a thousand miles. But until your testimony before your trial, I never imagined. The Kuvira that you love exists, but the Kuvira you followed are not the same. I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to warn you. People change right before your very eyes and it’s hard to adapt. I love you as if you were my own, Y/n, and I forgive you. As a parent, I am disappointed but that’s to be expected.”
Smiling you lurched forward and squished her against yourself. It didn’t take you long to become a little touch-starved from being in prison but man, hugging Su felt like landing on cotton and honey. Squeezing your shoulders, Su pulls back.
“Y/n, I’m telling you now what I had to tell myself. The right people get second chances. Currently, Kuvira and Bataar Jr are working with Korra and her friends to stop the remaining forces of the United army. They are good people, and I believe that they can do good things. But it’s up to them. You must wait for them to come to you. This isn’t in your hands now. If they want to change, they must do it themselves. That is my advice to you: good people will come around, they just need time.”
She gave you one last hug and released you. Stepping back she smiled, her eyes finally matching. 
“I don’t want to take up all of your day, so I’ll let you go for now.”
You said your goodbyes with Su and the guard escorted you off of the estate. 
It didn’t hit you until then that you didn’t flinch everytime she said Kuvira. Taking what Su and your parents said, you lifted your shoulders and promised yourself that you would change your days. You would begin the days with a smile and you would end the days with satisfaction. 
Days had passed by then and your mood had only gotten better. Physical therapy was going better, your side had stopped constantly throbbing and was starting to scar over. Blues and yellows surrounded the tissue but you were able to go up stairs without passing out! Checking the integrity of the metal plates was what filled your afternoons but those passed by too. Soon, the petals of the metal clan were slowly starting to form and the construction was almost complete. 
One day, when you were coming back from your shift, you had heard that Kuvira had returned. Something about brainwashing and how Asami was kidnapped? It sounded crazy to you but when you thought about it, there was this one doctor who wanted to control a person's thinking. Luckily, ‘Vee thought it was too barbaric and the idea was shelved. Korra was able to put a stop to it and her friends were returned back to normal with both charges returning back to Zaofu. It seemed that that test had proved to the rest of the Beifong family that they had taken a step towards fixing their past and wanting to grasp their future. You were happy that they decided to redeem themselves. It made sleep a little easier knowing that your ‘Vira was still in there. 
Your brain wasn’t helpful though. As successful physical therapy was, it never helped the nightmares. It didn’t help the murmurs of your brain and the self deprecating remarks. It was exhausting. (How come she gets a happy ending? Wasn’t I supposed to be a part of it? I thought she loved me? I thought-) Yeah, well, you thought a lot of things. Just eat your toast and inspect that metal. Spirits sake.
Flowers were delivered to you.
Lilacs. Their fragile petals and purple centers called to you and you froze looking at them. They were placed in your quarters along with mail from your parents. You weren’t allowed to send mail yet but you could still receive them. But flowers?
Listen, as an earthbender and a metalbender, you have grown to know the planet pretty well. From the flimsy sand to the swollen stone beneath you, you feel the breath of the earth in your bones. 
But that doesn’t mean you know a single thing about flowers. You know that they are pretty and that roses can be yellow in certain parts of the continent but lilacs? Pretty, purple, dainty, flowers? Confusion couldn’t even begin to explain the words you were feeling. Don’t flowers have meanings too? You have never received flowers before, you had convinced everyone around you that you would rather punch a boulder than receive flowers. And yet here they are.
It seems as if they are staring at you. Glaring at you. Laughing at you. (Who calls themselves an earthbender but can’t tell the difference in flowers? How stupid of-)
Snapping yourself from your stupor you spin around and walk right into the door jam.
Son of a flying-
You corner Hahn later on that night. Word in the prison yard says that when he was a free man, he was a farmer who lived next to a guy who happened to be a gardner of flowers. Which flowers didn’t matter but the fact that you kind of knew someone that had knowledge of flowers seemed like a win. 
You plopped yourself on the seat in front of him and stared into his aged eyes. He had dark spotted skin from his field days and the wrinkles around his eyes suggested that he knew many things. A trustworthy source. (Your only source)
“Do you know anything about flowers Hahn?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I got two days worth of desert that has your name on it if you tell me a thing or two.” Interest peaked, he leaned forward. 
“I have a reputation kid, I ain’t just gonn’ blab about flowers to anyone. I don’t wann’ seem like a flim, ya know?”
“I ain’t gonna talk, I’ll even slide another honey cake in there.”
He thinks for a moment or two before nodding. You slide him the desert from today and he places it into his pocket. Leaning forward, you can smell sunshine and grass from him. 
“What do you know about this?”
You had gently picked a single bud from your bouquet to show him. You weren’t positive if they were lilacs but they were purple and how many flowers were actually purple? 
Humming for a moment, he responds. “. . .Syringa, if I remember correctly. Sold like hot cakes. There’s about several different kinds. This one here is just the smaller kind. If you tryna woo a lass, you call ‘em Lilacs. They got a strong scent though, so careful on the nose.”
Nodding, you ask, “does it have meaning?”
He shrugs, handing the bud back to you. “ Well, it could mean a lot of things. In the younger years, you’d give it to your lass to remind ‘em of your love. Like, a new beginning of  love, remindin’ them of a new stage.”
He then looks you in the eye and glares. “Not a word about this hog wash or I’m stealing your pillow.”
You laugh, “you have my lips sealed, H.”
You hadn’t received any more bouquets and your pillows remained intact. New love? Who in the world could that be? You kept your eyes peeled for lurkers when you were on breaks and besides the common glare, nobody else seemed to be paying attention. So where did they come from? You had formed a vase with clay in order to keep your flowers and you were a little tickled to find that they lit up the room. Hmph.
Kuvira was two seconds away from suffocating herself. When did it get so hard to be a good person?
The amount of guilt that lifted from her shoulders from the trial was impalpable and she felt almost as confident as 4 years ago. The Beifongs were friendly and she was able to join and attend multiple events and she was slowly learning how to be a mentally stable person. She had started seeing someone in the city and once every two weeks they would take her apart and put her back together. She was getting used to it. Slowly. 
But, spirits, did she miss you.
Something would happen during the day and she would turn to see you, see how your eyebrows would raise and how you would stifle your laughter behind your hands. And then she’d turn and you wouldn’t be there. It was total whiplash, and she wasn’t used to it just yet. Dr. Moko had yet to ask about the elephant-rhino in the room and Kuvira was waiting for the day where she would ask, “why did you attempt two murders, both of which were individuals you cared about?”
What a loaded question. Kuvira wondered how she got stuck with house arrest and not prison. 
On one hand, it's an easy question. She thought she was doing a good thing. Bataar Jr. happened to be in the same place as the avatar and most of the resistance when she fired the spirit weapon and at the time it seemed like a good idea. (Not a good defense, she’s glad this question wasn’t raised during her trial). On the other hand. . .
Her soul would wither when she thought about. . .the. . kiss.
She felt that she was ignited and smothered at the same time. When she felt you melt into her arms, it was intoxicating. Your smell had surrounded her and you felt good in her hands. How she wanted to stay there forever. She wished that she could have stayed there forever. But the voice in her head was blood thirsty and on a victory roll and couldn’t be stopped. It was no excuse but the pain that Kuvira felt when she saw you slowly bleed out in her arms was so much that she zoned out and went on autopilot.
In one of the sessions she has with Dr. Moko, she mentions the voice with high reluctance. Dr. Moko says that the instinctual desires in her subconscious had risen to the challenge and took over, blocking out rational and emotional thought. This discussion had encompassed several sessions and because of that, Kuvira was able to gain control and become a little more independent with her thoughts. It gave her a sense of control, knowing that the Beifong family could trust her again, knowing that Korra wasn’t wrong when she said that they were alike. She had hope and all the split ends of her misdeeds were tying themselves together. But y/n. . .
You plagued her mind like a wine-stained carpet. So naturally, she (subtly) asks Su what happened after Korra stopped the spirit vine weapon. Su fills her in on the hospital visits, the trial, the physical therapy, the letters, everything. 
That week Kuvira stomps into Dr. Moko’s office and says, “I need to talk about y/n.”
And so she does.
She sends you flowers.
Flowers?! She doesn’t have a flower bone in her body, why in the world did she pick out flowers? She even had a mind to pick out a specific type, lilacs: new love. She wanted to ask the florist for a bouquet that would convey “I’m sorry that I stabbed you, I am becoming a mentally stable person and I really wanna kiss you again and you are really pretty.” 
Kuvira figures that lilacs are good enough. 
. . .
It had been about two weeks since you received the flowers. They had started to wilt and you couldn’t help but get sad. You still had not figured out who sent them but a tiny part of you hoped that maybe she sent them. That she still thought of you while she’s learning how to be herself. It was selfish of you to think so, but you couldn’t help it. Kuvira was a major part of your life and to be without her made your heart ache. But you made do. After all, you still had 24 years of community service. . . you sigh. That doesn’t make it better. 
You’re walking towards the park to take part in your therapy session. Several other people had come and gone and it was nice to see people learning how to overcome their struggles. You were growing stronger every day. Madam said that soon, you would be able to fully do the physical side of bending again. You could spar soon! You were starting to get antsy with all the chill meditation that Madam Jilpa was having you do. The bruising was gone on your side and you could extend your arms fully without twinges or aches. 
You step onto familiar green grass and take off your shoes. Feeling the earth beneath your feet helped ground you when trying new therapy techniques that had you worried that your legs would suddenly give out on you. After placing your shoes next to your bag you look up and see your teacher and several others. There were more people today than usual which was odd. You couldn’t remember if there was a sudden climb of injuries in the last week but alas, more people meant less one-on-one time from the old lady herself. You walk over to a spot of grass and plop down, stretching your legs out in front of you. Planning on doing basic stretches you exhale-
“Need a partner?”
-and immediately inhale. You open your eyes and swirl around looking at the individual. Kuvira stands there relaxed, if not a little stiff, and is looking at you with her hands behind her back. The naive voice in your head screams in victory and you nod your head, still silent. Kuvira sits next to you and out of panic, you look around seeing everyone else doing the buddy system. Some were wearing the same clothing patterns as Kuvira meaning that they came over as a group. Meaning this wasn’t accidental. Meaning this was planned. Meaning this was the worst day of your entire life. Perhaps you should just run away and become a no name in the wilds, because then you’d be able to cope with the situation instead of just stewing in silence.
Kuvira places her knees together and leans forward, stretching her head towards her legs as she exhales. Knowing that Madam Jilpa would swat you, you slowly do the same. After you scootch further away, of course. 
It’s painfully awkward. As Madam Jilpa begins, others join in with soft whispers and mutters of conversation. But the bubble that surrounds you is so tense that it doesn’t help the panic spasms that start to creep up your spine. 
After coming back up from a lateral position, your eyes roam and they meet Kuvira’s. She’s looking at you fully, and not even Madam’s loud “Next!” breaks her attention. She’s looking at you and she stops her exercise to face you completely. Her eyes lower and she looks at your right side where your shirt had bunched up showing the scar tissue. Shocked, you pull your shirt down and shuffle a little farther away.
She speaks so softly you probably wouldn’t have heard her had you not been so attuned with her whole being. 
“I’m sorry.” 
You inhale and nod, bracing your attention forward and copying Madam’s next movement. 
You try incredibly hard to ignore her stare for the rest of the session but it’s so heavy and so thick. At some point, Madam introduces a new position and spirits does it pull a muscle that you didn’t realise you had. It starts with your back on the ground, which is easy enough, and then you lift your hips and turn to the side. Keeping your shoulders to the ground, your head turns the opposite way. You flinch when it strains the muscles in your side. Your legs begin to quiver when a hand settles over your knee and brings your legs away from the ground, making the stretch more shallow. Your eyes see Kuvira as she holds your legs.
“Don’t do it too deep, you’ll sprain something. Start here.”
Following that, she lowers your legs again but into a place that doesn’t make you flinch in pain. 
You missed her touch, you realise. You missed how softly she would hold you. Your eyes start to water when you realise how fucked up this is. She is right there in front of you, and all you can think about is how betrayed you felt. You never got the closure you needed from her and it’s being revealed as she helps you stretch. You’re silently crying while she places your legs down and helps you into a seated position. 
“I should have visited you some time ago. I wanted to apologize to you, for wounding you and for leaving you alone when all you did was trust me. I misplaced your trust and I will forever be in your debt for doing so. I am incredibly sorry y/n,” she says as she looks into your eyes.
You sniffle as she grabs your hands. Squeezing them, you respond. 
“Thank you, ‘Vee.”
And when you smile, the future seems a whole lot brighter.
104 notes · View notes
hockey-fics · 4 years
Text
When We’re 25 ~ Nathan MacKinnon 
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Summary: Twenty-five seemed so old for two eleven year olds sitting on the grassy field behind their school. Who would have thought promises made 14 years ago could change everything?
Word Count: ~4,000
Warnings: None
Video Source of Gif
A/N: Unedited and based a lot in the past so I tried to put together an accurate timeline but please forgive me if I didn’t get years quite right. 
Nathan MacKinnon. People always asked about your relationship with him. People always had. Because you were inseparable from the day you met. It was when you were eight years old and your third grade teacher put him beside you while completing her seating plan for the year when you first met. 
A few days later Nate invited you to come play soccer during recess. You spent all of five minutes playing soccer with the boys before heading off to the edge of the soccer field, picking a handful of wildflowers. You gave them to Nathan while walking back into the school after the bell rang and they stayed in his desk until they were shrivelled up and dead. 
You started going to each others houses after school and on weekends. His parents and your parents grew closer through the frequent trips to each other’s houses dropping off or picking one of you up. 
In grade four you weren’t in the same class as Nate and you cried the morning of your first day back at school. But still you still saw each other at every recess and lunch break. He would occasionally swap out playing soccer to spend the break with you. Other times you would drag your friends up to the soccer field to hang out on the sidelines, simply to be near him. 
It started early, the teasing from your friends. They would giggle and talk about how they were certain you two ‘like liked’ each other. Your parents made occasional comments too. Comments that would make your cheeks burn and turn a dark shade of red. Through everything you had always denied liking Nathan. 
When you were eleven years old your older cousin was getting married and your family took a trip across the country for the wedding. When you got back to school you were bombarded with questions from your friends about the trip. You talked about how magical it all was, gushing about the dress, the cake, the dancing, and in true childhood fashion, that the hotel you stayed in had a pool. Jeremy, a boy in your class, was sitting nearby, listening in on the conversation. “Too bad nobody will every want to marry you,” Jeremy muttered when you had finished talking. 
“Jeremy, you’re so mean,” your best friend had defended quickly.
“it’s just the truth,” he had replied matter-of-factly. 
You tried your best not to let Jeremy’s comment hurt your feelings. But the tears that welled up in your eyes betrayed you and before anyone had the chance to say anything else you were on your feet and fleeing to the closest bathroom so nobody could see your emotions. 
You were in the bathroom for awhile before your friend came in, coaxing you out of the bathroom stall. “Nate punched him,” she had said, so simply, as if it didn’t mean anything. 
You were shocked when she told you, scared about the trouble he was going to get into. And he did get into trouble, a week of missed recess breaks. 
You sat outside on the grassy hill behind the school with Nathan that day after school. 
“Sorry you got in trouble,” you told him. 
“He upset you.”
“You shouldn’t have hit him.”
“He shouldn’t have been mean to you.”
You had looked over at Nate and knew in that moment that he didn’t even know why he punched Jeremy, didn’t know what Jeremy had even said, just that he had made you cry. “He told me nobody would ever want to marry me.”
“He’s wrong.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’d marry you,” Nathan had told you so simply that it made you giggle even at that age. 
“We’re too young,” you had replied, as if that was the only reason you two couldn’t get married. 
“When we’re older then.”
“You’re going to marry me when we’re older?”
Nathan nodded, pulling a tiny wild daisy from the ground and handing it to you. “If we aren’t already married to other people.”
“When?” You asked him, twirling the flower between your fingers. 
Nate contemplated the answer for awhile before saying anything. “Twenty-five?”
Twenty-five had seemed so far from that day. You were only eleven and you thought you would have it all figured out by the time you were 25. “Okay,” you had told him. 
The two years Nathan had spent playing hockey in Minnesota were incredibly difficult for you. You were 12 and going through so many changes in your life. The only thing you really wanted was to have your best friend around. 
When you were both 14 and Nathan had moved back from Minnesota to play in Halifax you went back to being practically inseparable. You went to as many of his games as possible. Even when you both had homework to do you insisted on being together, working quietly on separate assignments till it devolved into talking and laughing. Any opportunity to hang out together you would take it. 
When you were 16 you managed to convince Nate to come to a house party with you. One of the kids in your class had been left alone for the weekend which inevitably meant he was going to throw a party. Nate spent most of the night sipping coca-cola while you consumed jungle juice and cheap beer. 
Of course a game of truth or dare was suggested that night because you were all high school students who had access to alcohol and an unsupervised home. The lack of seating in the house had left you sitting on Nathan’s lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, your back pressed into him. 
“Y/N,” Lexie said. “Truth or dare?”
You had immediately opted for a dare. You were a bad liar sober, you knew there was no way you could have lied convincingly if they asked something you didn’t want to admit. 
“I dare you to kiss Adam.”
Adam was a year older than you, intimidatingly cool and attractive to you at the time. You had just turned 16 and you were beginning to feel embarrassed about the fact that you hadn’t had your first kiss. But that was not how you wanted it to happen. You hadn’t realized how long you had sat there in surprise till you felt Nathan run his hand over your arm. He knew. He knew that you hadn’t had your first kiss before and he had detected your anxiety immediately. 
“She’s not doing that,” Nate had declared a moment later. 
“Why not?” Lexie questioned, eyes narrowed and voice annoyed. 
“Because we’re dating.”
You had tried to keep your composure in the face of such a bold lie. You remembered the looks your friends had given you, even they were uncertain whether it was a lie or not because of how believable it would have been. 
“You’re lying,” Lexie had challenged. 
“Why would I lie about that?” Nathan slid his hands down to your legs, tugging you sideways on his lap and bringing one of his hands to the side of your face, turning your head to look at him. “They’ll believe us if I kiss you,” Nathan whispers. 
You swallow heavily, staring into his eyes. You wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t think this was how you wanted it to happen. You could feel the eyes of everyone playing the game in the room and suddenly the attention felt like too much. “I want to go,” you whispered back. 
Nathan didn’t need to hear anything else. He placed his hands on your waist, quickly helping you up before standing up himself. “We’re going to go home,” Nate announced as you walked out with him, hearing a chorus of ‘oohs’ in regard to you two leaving together after that announcement. 
You walked back in the direction of your house in silence for awhile until you passed by a park and you grabbed Nate’s hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Lets go on the swings,” you suggested. 
The two of you sat on the swings and talked for awhile, not about what happened at the party at first. “I just want it over with,” you finally blurted out. 
“Want what over with?” 
You had looked over at Nathan, fingers grasping the chain of the swing so hard your knuckles had gone white. “My first kiss.”
“If we’re going to get married we may as well try kissing now,” Nathan had said, laughing as he did. You knew the part about getting married was a joke so you assumed the rest was as well, giggling softly. 
Nathan stood up and walked in front of you, his hands moving to yours, gently pulling them off the chains of the swing. “I’m serious.”
Slowly you stood up, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What if I’m bad at it?”
“You won’t be,” Nathan had assured you, one hand around your back as he pulled you closer. “Do you want to?”
You had simply nodded, as if you were physically unable to say yes. Nathan had kissed you that night. Your first kiss ever. Afterwards you didn’t say much as he walked you home, waiting till you were inside before going back to his own house. 
Neither of you talked about the kiss again. You told everyone afterwards that you didn’t work out in a relationship that you were still friends. But a year and a half later, when you were almost 18 you brought it up again.
“You know how you let me kiss you to get my first kiss out of the way?” You asked, sitting on your bed with your school work spread out in front of you. Nate had been sitting beside you with his math textbook and a messy sheet of equations in his lap. 
Nate had looked over at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Well I kissed you, but yeah. Why?”
“Would you do it again?”
“You can’t have your first kiss twice.”
“Not my first kiss….my first…time.”
Nathan had stared at you blankly for a few seconds, seemed skeptical, like you were tricking him into admitting something. “Yes,” he had finally told you. 
“Okay,” you had replied, slowly moving all your books off your bed. And Nathan did exactly what he said, taking your virginity that afternoon. And he was gentle and kind and everything you were hoping he would be. You trusted him with everything and you were glad you had trusted him with this too. Even though it happened only a few months before he was drafted into the NHL and then moved to Colorado. 
You stayed close when he moved. You texted and called and visited each other as much as you could. And you always remained determined that you were just friends. But you never felt the same connection you felt with him as you felt with anyone you had actually dated. You never felt as comfortable, as safe, as secure. 
Nathan had always done his absolute best to make sure he was there for your birthdays. There were a few years where he couldn’t make it work because of games. A couple of those years you decided to go to him, celebrating your birthday with a few friends in a hockey arena watching an Avs game before dragging Nathan out for drinks with everyone. 
This year he was particularly insistent about coming to visit for your birthday. It was your 25th and he was making it out to seem like a much bigger deal than you thought it was. It was just another day. 
He had come up the day before your birthday and the two of you spent every waking minute together. The day of your birthday you woke up to Nathan making you breakfast, coffee already brewed. 
“This is pretty impressive,” you said, shuffling tiredly into the kitchen and wrapping your arms around him, your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“It’s your birthday, you deserve everything.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Now sit down.”
Giggling you pull away from him, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. “Ally said you guys made plans later but that I need to dress nice,” you comment, watching as Nathan flips a couple pancakes onto a plate. “Will you tell me what we’re doing?”
“No,” Nathan chuckles, setting the pancakes in front of you. 
Glaring at him you pick up your fork. “Fine, but will you at least come with me and help me pick out something suitable to wear tonight?”
“Sure,” Nathan chuckles, getting himself some breakfast and joining you to eat. 
Later that day you step out of a fitting room in a knee length red wrap dress, glancing in the mirror before looking at Nathan. “What do you think of this one?”
“You look incredible,” Nathan says, leaning forward in the chair he was sitting in. 
You glance over as one of the sales associates comes into the back, looking between you and Nathan for a minute. “Anniversary dinner?”
Laughing softly you shake your head. “My birthday.”
“Oh,�� she says, smiling softly. “You two are just really cute.”
“We’re going to get married,” Nathan chuckles. 
“We’re not,” you tell the sales associate quickly, glancing at Nathan through the mirror. “He’s joking, we’re just friends.”
“Oh,” she comments again, grabbing a few dresses from a hanger before heading back into the store. 
“Nathan, what the hell?” You exclaim, giggling as you turn back around to look at him. “Is this the one?” You ask, gesturing to the dress and changing the topic. 
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
After changing back into your clothes you and Nathan take the dress to the front counter. When you notice Nathan pulling out his wallet you quickly push his hand away. “No,” you say quietly. 
“It’s your birthday,” he retorts, pulling a credit card out of his wallet. 
Rolling your eyes you give in, knowing you weren’t going to get out of letting him pay for it. Once you two leave the store you grab a coffee, spending the day doing nothing but hanging out with each other. And to be honest there wasn’t a single other thing you would have rather been doing. Whenever Nate was in town or you were in Denver it felt like a missing piece in your life was filled. 
It was many hours later before you were fully dressed and ready for the night, heading out with Nathan who insisted on driving because he refused to tell you where you were actually going. But it wasn’t long before you realized it was your favourite restaurant which you didn’t go to often because of the price and fact that you needed to make reservations weeks in advance if you wanted to be sure you could get in. 
Glancing over at Nate you smile softly, watching his eyes focused on the road in front of him. I love you. It wasn’t the first time you wanted to say it. In fact, you had even said it before. But it was always followed up by ‘you’re my best friend’ to take away from what it really meant. Nate looks over at you, catching you watching him. 
“What?” Nate asks, looking back out the window as he slows down and pulls into a spot near the front of the restaurant. 
“Nothing,” you tell him quietly, reaching over and unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” he replies, quickly climbing out of the car. Your attention is caught by the speed with which Nate hops out of the car, hurrying around the front of it. 
You can’t help but giggle, watching as he gets to your side, pulling the door open. “Almost broke into a sprint there,” you tease, eyes widening as Nate grabs your hand to help you out of the car. “It’s my birthday, not my coronation.”
Nate chuckles, closing the door behind you once you were out of the car. “Anything for you.”
You glance down at your hands, Nate’s hand still locked with yours. But you don’t pull away, keeping the embrace as you two walk up to the restaurant and all the way to the table where a group of your friends were already waiting. 
“Happy birthday,” your best friend cheers, hopping up to wrap her arms around you. “You and Nate look cozy,” she whispers in her ear while her arms were around you. 
Laughing you shake your head, pulling away. “Just friends,” you remind her, for what felt like the millionth time. 
“Right,” she draws out, rolling her eyes with a playful smile. 
After a few more happy birthday hugs and hellos you sit down beside Nate. Chatter ensues around the table as drinks are ordered. Shortly after you have a glass of pinot noir in front of you and Nate has moved a little closer, his arm around the back of your chair.
The dinner goes by quicker than you would have liked. A few glasses of wine and a delicious dinner later your friends are handing over the gifts they had brought with them. After you had opened the gifts from your friends you notice Nate watching you closely, clutching a little box in his hand. 
“Happy birthday,” he whispers as he hands the box to you. 
Opening it slowly you look down at the gorgeous necklace in the box. You knew immediately that it cost more than all the other jewelry you owned combined and it was more than you could have ever asked for or anticipated. “Nathan,” you whisper, looking up at him. “Thank you so much…you didn’t have to.”
“Oh my god, put it on,” your friend comments, downing the rest of her martini. 
You slowly and carefully pull the necklace out of the box and Nate stands up, helping you put the necklace on without hesitation. “Happy twenty-fifth,” he whispers before sitting back down. 
As soon as the words leave his mouth it all comes back to you. 25. You look over at him, staring into his eyes to try and figure out if he knew the weight of 25 as well or if he was simply saying it because it was a fact, you were 25 now. But you know that he remembered too. 
You try to keep your focus on the moment, on the dinner and your friends. But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting the rest of the night. To Nate. To the necklace. To how much you loved him. To the fact that you were both 25 now. 
After dinner everyone heads outside and you can’t stop yourself from taking Nathan’s hand, pulling him a little closer. Outside you say goodbyes as everyone heads off in their Ubers. There was no question that you would be spending the night with Nathan. Your friends were around all the time and they knew when Nathan was in town you wanted to be around him as much as humanly possible. 
Once everyone was gone you turn to look up at Nate. The sky was dark, the evening cool but not too cold. The street was unbelievably quiet, as if the world had been put on pause. Everything felt perfect. “So we’re both twenty-five now,” you whisper. 
Nathan takes your other hand in his, pulling you a little closer. “And neither of us are married.”
Laughing softly you shake your head. “Twenty-five seemed so old at the time. I really thought we’d have it all figured out.”
“I do have something figured out.”
“Just one thing?” you tease. 
“One pretty big thing,” Nate tells you, voice quiet. 
“And what is it?”
“That I love you,” Nate says. “So much more than I’ve ever let you know. And I would marry you right now if that’s what you actually wanted but I don’t think a daisy when we were eleven is a great proposal.”
You inhale sharply, your lungs not seeming to be able to take in or exhale air steadily anymore. “Nathan,” you whisper, taking your hands from his and quickly lifting them up to wrap your arms around him. “I…I love you too. I have for so long.” Pulling back you look into Nathan’s eyes for a couple minutes before leaning closer. Nathan gets the hint quickly, closing the space and kissing you gently. It’s soft and passionate and so full of emotions that you feel a little dizzy, like you weren’t even on the planet in that moment anymore. Like it was all a fuzzy, incredibly dream. 
“Let’s go back to my apartment,” you whisper against his lips, still clutching onto him as if the second you let go everything that had just happened would vanish from reality. 
But you force yourself to pull away from him, to get into your car and go back to your apartment. 
You get to your apartment and you’re barely through the door before your hands are back all over him. He’s held you before, cuddled and hugged but when his hands slide around your waist this time it fills you with an unfamiliar excitement. Kissing Nate felt so natural, like you were made for each other. It’s not long before you’ve made your way into the bedroom, clothes scattered around the floor. 
While it’s not the first time you had slept with Nathan it’s the first time that it felt like it meant something real. 
The next morning you wake up wrapped in Nathan’s arms, a far cry from the mornings before when you woke up alone with Nate on the couch. The morning is slow as you climb out of bed, spending the morning cuddled on the couch watching tv and drinking coffee in nothing but Nathan’s t-shirt. 
“What now?” You ask after being up for a couple hours, back pressed to Nate’s chest, his arm draped over your shoulders. 
“What do you mean?” Nathan asks softly. 
“This…us. You’re going back to Denver tomorrow morning and we…,” you trail off, trying to hold back the fact that you were on the verge of tears. Blinking quickly you try to keep the tears from spilling from your eyes. 
“We what?” Nate’s voice is gentle but you can tell he doesn’t realize you’re about to cry, doesn’t realize how upset you are. 
You can’t stop the uneven inhale that makes your shoulders shake and Nate clues into your emotions. He reaches over, taking the mug of coffee out of your hands and setting it on the table beside him. He gently tugs your arm to turn you around and face him, pulling you into him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you let a couple tears slip from your eyes. “I don’t want you to go.”
Nate swallows heavily, running his hand along your back. “Come with me.”
A sarcastic laugh shakes your body as you pull back to look into Nate’s eyes. “I can’t just go with you. I have a job here, an apartment, and you live in a different country. I can’t just…leave.”
“I’d help you figure it out, you know we can deal with all that,” Nate whispers. 
“It’s so sudden, I don’t even know what we are. Are we together? Are we still friends?”
“We’ll always be friends,” Nathan tells you, leaning forward to kiss you gently. “But I think we’re beyond being just friends at this point.”
You kiss him back, you can’t stop yourself. Because it’s been years in the making. Years of developing feelings. It’s a few minutes before you manage to pull yourself back from Nate again. “What if I can’t find a job in Denver? Am I getting my own apartment? I can’t just move to a new country without some kind of, I don’t know…visa.” 
“Slow down,” Nathan says quietly, chuckling. “You don’t need it all figured out today. Come visit for a couple weeks, stay at my place, we can figure out the rest together.”
“Okay…I’ll go with you.”
“I love you,” Nate says gently. 
“I love you too.”
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buckysmischief · 4 years
Text
running in the dark - 1
Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 1,291
Warning(s): language, angst from the start but ends on a good note
AN: It you haven’t seen x men first class and/ or don’t know who Alex Summers is & need a face for the character, just google Lucas Till. & if anyone wants to be tagged, there’s 23 spots.
to the permanent tags - if you don’t want to be on the list anymore for any reason at all, message me and let me know. ill be making a post about it in a few days (maybe) but just figured id mention it now lol
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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Your attention wasn’t fully on Alex and he could tell, “Where’s your head at?”
“You,” you lied, “and this game.”
“You hate baseball, Yn. Don’t lie.” Alex Summers was a blonde hair blue eyes masterpiece who was sculpted by the gods, too bad their temper wore off on him.
In the hopes of avoiding a public argument, you thought telling the truth would be the safest bet, “My anxiety is just really high, Wanda and Pietro kinda dropped a bomb on me before I left the house and I haven’t processed it. Remember my old neighbor that I was close to, but we fell out of touch? He’s coming back apparently.” For a moment you thought he had dropped it, but no, he’s been wanting to start a fight since you made him late to the game.
“So you’re telling me that you’re thinking of another guy and the irrelevance of his life to yours in the middle of a date that I paid for?” He always knew how to play the victim, and any other night you would have fallen for it, but not tonight. So you ignored him. “Well I’m gonna go, have fun finding a way home.”
You didn’t have to find one, Wanda was always on standby for situations like this - which was reason number four she didn’t like him. The fact that it happened more than once wasn’t information you wanted to share, but after a long session with your therapist you knew that it wouldn’t do well to keep that information to yourself. If Bucky was here it would have been him, which was something else she wanted to talk about but your time would always run out around that point.
The drive to the house from the stadium was short and quiet, but the moment the smell of the ocean began to fill your senses you felt yourself becoming more grounded. Living at the beach was the one condition you had when Wanda suggested you get a place together, which is why she had four houses picked out before she even asked you.
You just wanted to go sit on the roof and watch the waves crash into the sand, but if Pietro’s car parked in the driveway meant anything it was that the three of you were in for one hell of a night.
“Hey there, doll.” Correction, the four of you. “Long time no see.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Anger was never an emotion you felt for Bucky before he left, but over time it became the only one you could remember.
Bucky knew you wouldn’t be exactly thrilled to see him, not after cutting all communication, but he didn’t expect that. He expected awkward silence, shifty eye contact, even you going off on him. If he knew you were this mad, pretending not to know him mad, he would have gone about this totally different. “Let’s walk the beach, the moon’s just bright enough to light the way.”
“No.” You wanted to run to him and give him a hug that would make up for the eight years of silence, but when you looked at the man who was standing in your living room… he was a stranger. This Bucky’s hair was shorter and he stood taller, you could spot a few tattoos on his arms and another creeping up the side of his neck, he even had facial hair. If so much had changed on the outside, you weren’t ready to find out how much had changed on the inside, not yet. “You’re a stranger, could be a murder for all I know. Or worse, someone who just up and leaves. Already had that happen once tonight, wouldn’t wanna risk it a second time.”
You ignored everyone and walked up to your room and had every intention of going to bed, but the voices coming from downstairs were too distracting - especially since you couldn’t make out what they were saying. It didn’t help that you longed to have your toes in the sand ever since Bucky mentioned that walk. The last thing you were going to do was show your face downstairs though, so your bedroom window was the only way out.
Once you were safely on solid ground and you could taste the salt in the air it was like you could breathe again. In the last six hours your entire world had turned upside down, again. It always seemed like one thing after another but the last six alone have been a complete joke. Sure, lashing out probably wasn’t the best move but what else were you supposed to do? Pretend everything was okay? Not a chance.
“You know, after all these years it’s comforting to know this is still your happy place.” You didn’t hear him coming, but you figured he’d show up eventually.
“So you’re not a stranger.” he started to smile, figuring you were finally over it and ready to talk, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re a stalker.”
“Can you just drop the attitude for five minutes and look at me? You can be mad at me all you want after that. If you can’t give me five minutes then I’ll leave, but when you’re ready I’ll be at Pietro’s.” He stood behind you for a few more minutes, neither of you speaking a word, before deciding to walk away. Your feet were moving before your brain could even register what was happening, and when Bucky turned around with arms wide open because he knew no matter what you’d never let him walk away from you, you ran even faster.
The two of you just sat in silence for a while, but eventually Bucky’s curiosity got the better of him, “So, who is Alex?”
“Alex Summers, he was a grade ahead of us.”
“You’re dating that asshole?”
“How surprised are you really?” Truth be told, he wasn’t. Of course he hoped that at some point over the years you would stop dating losers and find someone who treated you right, for many years he hoped that guy would be him, but sadly he knew neither of those things would happen.
“You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, Yn, that’s it.” He meant it. Even if that person was someone else, he meant it. Bucky had tried moving on from you by dating a couple different women but they could never compare to you, especially Natasha. She was so jealous of his friendship with you, even the idea of you, that she had somehow manipulated her way into alienating you from his life. It was something he couldn’t undo, but something he was determined to make right.
“So what about you?” wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible, you asked the first thing that came to mind, “How was the Army?”
“It was fine. Got to travel a bit but I mostly stayed in Texas. How have things been here?”
“They’ve been great.” The lie came out easy, it always did. “Do you wanna head back in? I’m starving.”
He pulled you up from your spot in the sand and as he was carrying you back to the house you realized you weren’t mad at him anymore. You had a glimpse of hope that maybe this was the first step in things finally going back to normal since he left.
“So,” he spoke softly, “we’re good?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we were never not good.” acting as if you didn’t treat him as a stranger only hours ago.
“I was hoping you grew out of being a brat.” Everyone knew that would never happen.
“Me? A brat? Sergeant Barnes, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
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perm tags (49/50): @sociallyeneptbarnes @hopesbarnes @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @whatinthyworld @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @buggy-blogs​ @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @theannoyingnightmarecollector @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @teasgyu @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama @reann-loves-sebstan @thinkoutsidethebex @thefridgeismybestie @niall2017 @maddope @imagine-all-the-imagines @thummbelina @m3ga1nsp1r3d @romaniansweetheart @thebadassbitchqueen @king-sebb @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bonkyboinkybucky @slaytherinthoughts @kingkassam @anti-the-glitch-bitch @poppunkdork
series tags (2/25): @rebekahdawkins​ @writerwrites​
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ollyarchive · 4 years
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Interview
Olly Alexander on success, sanity and It's a Sin: 'All those hot guys. I loved it!'
Simon Hattenstone
The Years & Years frontman is starring in Russell T Davies’ new drama about the Aids crisis. He talks about bulimia, his ‘dark’ clubbing days – and how he learned to enjoy filming sex scenes
Mon 11 Jan 2021 06.00 GMT
Olly Alexander was so certain he was destined for success that he saw a therapist to help him prepare for his future fame. It was 2014 and his band Years & Years had just signed to Polydor when he visited the shrink.
“I said: ‘The album’s coming out and I really want it to be successful,’ and he said: ‘What happens if it isn’t?’ I said: ‘Well, that’s not an option because I have planned it in my diary since I was a teenager.’”
That diary was less about chronicling the present than a series of promises he made to himself. “I planned my life till I was 25. I would be a famous musician ’cos musicians were the coolest people in the world. The biggest thing in the list was buying my mum a house, and I did that. That was the coolest thing to be able to do with my money.” He smiles. “That was the coolest thing ever.”
Now Alexander might well benefit from another visit to the shrink because he’s about to become a lot more famous. He stars in It’s a Sin, the brilliant new TV drama by Russell T Davies, about a group of young gay men living and dying through the Aids epidemic in the 1980s. The five-part series is funny, vibrant, sexy and heartbreaking.
This is by no means the first time Alexander has acted – he has appeared in the TV series Skins, films such as Bright Star (about Keats), Gulliver’s Travels and Great Expectations, and on stage in the West End alongside Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw in Peter and Alice; a pretty impressive CV. But with It’s a Sin, he knows he has struck gold. “Some actors would wait their entire careers and not get such a good role,” Alexander says, and he’s right. Davies has made a habit of creating groundbreaking TV series (Queer As Folk, Bob and Rose, Torchwood), and this is his best yet.
Alexander’s character, Ritchie Tozer, is an aspiring actor/singer who has just moved to London from the Isle of Wight in search of fame, fortune and a good shagging. He embraces his new freedoms with promiscuous abandon, while also struggling with his sexuality. Ritchie is equally cocky and vulnerable, lovable and insufferable.
Although It’s a Sin takes place in a time before Alexander was born, he says there are so many ways he relates to Ritchie’s life. There is one crucial difference – whereas Ritchie is secretive, Alexander is an open book. If there’s anything to tell you, he’ll tell you, even if he is embarrassed a second later about his indiscretions. It’s an endearing quality, and one that makes him great company.
We meet in his agent’s east London office in December, when Tier 4 restrictions are yet to kick in. Alexander is a boyish 30 – half punk, half catwalk model, with orange hair, earrings, multiple rings, stylish khaki trousers and a handful of inky tattoos. He is garrulous and giggly with a huge toothy grin.
Like Ritchie, Alexander was a stranger to city life when he came to London. He was born in North Yorkshire, went to primary school in Blackpool and Gloucestershire, and a comprehensive in Monmouth, south Wales. He was a natural performer who wrote his first song at the age of 10. “I performed it in my year six assembly.” Can he remember it? He squirms. “Yeah!” Let’s hear it then? “No!” Oh go on! “OK, OK. ‘The leaves are falling outside my window. I’m lay here all alone,” he sings quietly, in that delicate falsetto. He giggles, blushes and continues. “And now I’m a knowin’, the way it’s goin’, we won’t last for ever, for ever my love.’”
Wow, those lyrics are pretty sophisticated – and melancholy. He giggles again. “Oh thanks. It’s about unrequited love. Doomed love. I was getting in early on my themes. I had a bit of help from my dad.” He wrote it after experiencing his first pangs – for a boy in his class.
At secondary school Alexander was a victim of homophobic bullying. He responded with elan. “I would still come to non-uniform day in eyeliner.” Did he fight back? “Sometimes I would scream. I was not a good fighter. We did rugby a lot at my school – a Welsh school. The one time I scored a try, on the way back to the changing room the two popular boys from the year put their arms around me and said: ‘Well done, Olly,” and I was like: ‘I can’t believe it, this is it!’” He pauses long enough for me to get a glowing feeling. “Then they tripped me up and pushed my face into the mud. That was hard to live down.” After that he never went to another games lesson.
When he was 13, his parents separated, and from then he was brought up by his mother, events organiser Vicki Thornton (his real surname – Alexander is his middle name). His father had been a talented but disappointed singer-songwriter who made a living marketing theme parks. Although he gave young Olly a lifelong passion for adventure rides, there were tensions between the two of them. After his parents split up, he broke off contact with his father. When Alexander became successful, his father tried to rekindle their relationship via Twitter. Alexander wasn’t impressed.
With the sod-you eyeliner and supreme belief that he would make it, he sounds incredibly robust. So what else was in that teenage diary? “Pppprrrr.” He blows his lips as if feeling a sudden chill. “It’s a bit dark. I used to write that I really wanted to be skinny.” He exhales deeply. “My mantra was always: I’m not going to eat this again, I’m not going to eat cake again. I’m never going to eat pasta.” He was barely into his teens when he became bulimic and started to list the things he wouldn’t eat. Actually, he says it was worse than that. “I was writing down: don’t eat, don’t eat, don’t eat. Did he have a weight problem? “I was a little chubby at primary school, but no.” What does he think it came from? “It was something I could control. I felt very out of control in the rest of my life. I was struggling with my sexuality, my parents were divorcing, and I wanted to punish myself.”
I want to give him a hug, but I’m not sure he would appreciate it, particularly in the pandemic. Why did he want to punish himself? “It was self-loathing. I didn’t want to be gay. I was convinced I was the reason my parents were splitting up.” He never considered that their divorce may have had nothing to do with him.
He started to cut himself, too. Has he still got the scars? He points to his upper arms and thighs, “because people can’t see there. I was deeply ashamed of doing it. I wanted to hide it.” Are there many scars? “No. A friend saw a plaster on my arm and jokingly asked if I’d been cutting myself. After that, I was so embarrassed that I mostly stopped doing it. Bulimia carried on well into my 2os, but it became less and less frequent. It’s really hard to hold down any kind of job if you’re throwing up food all the time, and ultimately you have to choose.” It becomes a full-time occupation? “Yes, it’s all you think about. And you’re doing so much damage to your organs. I got taken into hospital once with my mum because I had this irregular heartbeat, which can happen through constant purging, and that really scared me. I thought I’d done something irreparable to my body, and my mum was so distraught. She couldn’t understand why her son was throwing up all the food she was trying to give him. She found out because I hadn’t cleaned the toilet properly.”
After studying performing arts at Hereford College of Arts, he moved to London and was liberated. He had a heady time of it – more drugs, clubbing and sex than even he had hoped for, while also getting regular work as an actor. But there was a downside. He saw friends struggle, sacrifice themselves to excess, fall by the wayside. “Everything was about going out and connecting with people at the clubs. I had a great time, but it was also a dark time. A lot of people took too many drugs. A few friends attempted to take their lives and one succeeded. That was devastating. You can see how easy it is for a party lifestyle to turn into something negative.”
Alexander has a strong survival instinct. There was his destiny to fulfil, the house to buy for his mother. He still struggled with his mental health, so he cut down on the destructive stuff. Today, he says, his main drug of choice is the antidepressant sertraline. “I was worried about longterm use, and the doctor said: ‘Well, the latest research shows it can promote neurogenesis, and I was like that’s the coolest thing ever.” Neurogenesis is the process by which new neurons are formed in the brain. “She was basically saying antidepressants are giving you superpowers, and I was like: ‘Amazing, I’ll keep taking them for ever.’” He starts giggling, and he can’t stop. “Neurogenesis – ooh, I love that. I’m going to be neuro-supercharged.”
Years & Years formed in 2010. Founder member and synth/bass/keyboard player Mikey Goldsworthy heard Alexander singing in the shower and asked if he wanted to become lead singer. When Alexander joined, Years & Years were a five-piece band, before shrinking to an electropop trio (Alexander, Goldsworthy and fellow guitarist and keyboard guru Emre Türkmen). Alexander, the main songwriter, has an ear for great sweeping choruses (think Sam Smith meets Pet Shop Boys with a dash of New Order). Their first album, Communion, went to No 1 in the UK, while the song King topped the singles chart and its follow-up, Shine, reached No 2. Many of their songs are about yearning and doomed love – particularly on their second album, Palo Santo – just like the first one he wrote aged 10.
Alexander also became known as an LGBTQ campaigner. He made a documentary, Growing Up Gay, for the BBC in which he talked to his mother in a tear-filled exchange about coming out; he also interviewed people about struggles with their sexuality, the pressure to be promiscuous and take drugs, and addressed schoolchildren about homophobia and mental health problems. Does he think of himself as an activist? He shakes his head. “It does a disservice to actual activists. There’s a tendency to use that word for anyone in the public eye speaking up about any issue. Going into schools and talking about mental health isn’t activism. I like doing that. If I can be helpful, I want to help.”
The week before we meet he was named celebrity of the year at the British LGBT awards. He doesn’t know why – he says he didn’t do anything in 2020. “Maybe they heard about my upcoming role and got in there early!”
He says he has learned so much from making It’s a Sin – not least about acting, and how tough it can be. “Doing an acting job where you have to turn up every day is really challenging. I was so used to my musician lifestyle, which is usually: get up late, get in a car, get driven to an airport, get on a plane, fall asleep, arrive somewhere, get driven to the venue, roll out of the car and do the show. It was too much like hard work every day. I thought I’d got past this!”
We see a lot of Alexander in It’s a Sin – in every sense. He gets more than his share of sex scenes, and says it was fascinating being taught how to do them properly. So he enjoyed them? “All those hot guys. That aspect I loved! And going into it I thought, I’m going to have so much fun doing this, I’m a confident-ish guy, love having sex, it will be great.” That’s so refreshing, I say, to hear actors admit they enjoy sex scenes.
Ah, well, he says, it wasn’t quite that simple – he initially became self-conscious. “I broke down into hysterical tears, like ‘don’t fucking touch me’. I found it really hard.” Then the intimacy coordinators got to work on him. “They were a life-changing experience. Intimacy coordinators are there for safety ’cos there’s a lot of shit that can go wrong between what a director wants and what an actor wants, and boundaries being crossed. They’re there to rehearse everything beforehand with the director and the performers. You talk about animals you might imitate, the sounds you make.” He pays tribute to intimacy coordinator extraordinaire Ita O’Brien, who introduced the Intimacy on Set guidelines in 2017 and worked on Normal People as well as It’s a Sin. “Anything with sex in it, she’ll be involved. She’ll be on all fours at one point, saying: ‘Now I’m going to be like a cow and moo in ecstasy.’ She’s amazing, amazing, amazing.” And yes, he did start to enjoy the scenes.
Did he find them arousing? Now it’s my turn to blush and I apologise for the question. Did he start to enjoy it too much? “No, that’s what I want to know. What if someone gets a hard-on – how embarrassing would that be? Ita said: ‘It’s natural and normal for certain body parts to get excited and if you get an erection that’s absolutely fine, but it’s not appropriate for the workplace.’” He adds a caveat: “Depending on what kind of job you’re doing. And she said: ‘If that happens, you just take a time out. So you’re all there thinking, OK, how embarrassing – because you say time out and everybody knows it’s because you’ve got a hard-on. Hahahhaa!” Did he have to take a time out? “No!” Did anyone? “Not to my knowledge.”
Who did he have most fun with? “I’d say best kiss was the guy who plays Ash [newcomer Nathaniel Curtis]. Great kisser.” And the best shag? “Sexual simulation,” he corrects me. “Best sexual simulation was Roscoe [Omari Douglas, another relative newcomer].” Has he told them? “It’s all coming out in this article, Simon.” And I can sense him calibrating what he has just said. “It’s going to ruin my standing!” But a second later he changes his mind. “No, that’s a compliment right? I compliment them both. Hahahaha!” And he laughs giddily.
I ask about the future. You sense he’s not sure where to go from here, acting-wise – that it can’t get any better than It’s a Sin. Fortunately, he owes the band an album’s worth of songs. He had them done and dusted before the pandemic. “But all that time in my flat going insane made me realise I didn’t like any of the music, it didn’t feel relevant. I just wanted to start again, which is what I did. Now it’s almost ready – again.”
It will be only their third album in seven years. “I know,” he says. “It’s embarrassing. Ariana Grande has had about five out in the time we’ve done one.” In the meantime, he says, Türkmen has had one baby, with another on the way.
What about his own love life? “It’s pretty dire.” Sex? “I’m hopeful to have more sex … it’s very difficult in the age of Covid if you’re single. I actually tried to lock someone down who would be my ‘friends with benefits’ sex buddy, because I saw that Holland were advising people to do that. In the first lockdown I said: ‘Look, we can just have sex with each other. I trust you, you trust me, we’re not together, but this is an arrangement. I’ve not had sex in six months, what do you think?’ But he said no. I was quite upset. So yeah, not a lot of sex in 2020.” For a split-second, the puckish Alexander looks forlorn. Then he grins his toothiest grin yet. “But I’m hopeful that it will pick up in the new year!”
It’s a Sin is on Channel 4 on 22 January at 9pm
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rae-is-typing · 5 years
Text
Anything For You
NOTE: If you ever feel as though you want to purposefully harm yourself or even commit suicide, please get some help. I encourage you to reach out. Don’t hesitate to message me.
Description: You’re struggling. Between school and the movie making process, your blood is made of stress and the only way you can get any sort of rest is by taking sleeping pills. One night, you take too many.
Characters: The reader, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, the rest of the Civil War cast are mentioned, a doctor and medics
Warnings: Accidental overdose, descriptions of an anxiety attack, pills, destructive self talk, the reader is really mean to herself, hospitals, blood, concussion, crying, self harm, mentions of shitty parents. This one is heavy.
Disclaimers: I mean no disrespect to any of the people mentioned, even the reader. I’ve also never overdosed so this might not be accurate nor have I been to the hospital for a serious injury, so that may also be inaccurate. My apologies if it is.
Word count: ~6k
Your tired eyes leer at your computer screen. Ugly, ugly math stared back at you. You sigh, rubbing your eyes. This assignment was due at midnight. It was already 11 PM and you had barely started.
I’m so fucked. Why am I so stupid? I bet third graders can do better than me on this shit.
You thought, shoving your computer to the back of the shitty hotel desk. Groaning, you lay your head on the table.
My parents were right. I’m just a dumb kid, I can’t even do dumb math problems. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
You pick up your head and drop it back down to the desk a few times, trying to get the gears to start turning. Or give yourself a mild concussion. Whatever came first.
You sit up, rubbing your forehead a little and look around the hotel room you’re in. It was small with a queen bed in the middle of the room. It was nice. Of course it was nice, one of the biggest movie franchises had paid for it. You were lucky to get your own room. The hotel was overbooked, so some actors had to pair up. Your room was between Sebastian and Chris’s room and Robert’s room- three people that would fight (and possibly die) for you. It made sense though, they would do the same for most of Civil War’s cast. But you brought out their more protective sides. That also made sense- you were still a kid, barely 16 years old and already trying to figure shit out on your own.
Kids shouldn’t have to get emancipated at 15 even if they can afford it. You thought bitterly. Kids shouldn’t hate themselves. Kids shouldn’t be this stressed.
You couldn’t do this shit anymore. School was kicking your ass. So was this god damn press tour. You couldn’t get one plain day off. It was always work work work and school school school. Even worse is the fact that you went from an honors student with a perfect 4.0 to flunking three of four classes. 
Maybe I’m just a fucking failure. Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead. Maybe I should just give up. I can’t do this anymore, fuck. This is too much. All of it is too much. I’m never going to this shit right. I’m too fucking stupid. Too dumb to do a fucking math problem. 
Tears prick at your eyes. You hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight off the inevitable sobs. You hate crying, it makes you feel dumb and even more childish. Your breathing only picked up and you began hitching out quiet sobs.
I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t I can’t I don’t wanna do this I can’t do it any longer. 
You couldn’t breath as you sobbed in your hands. You could never catch a break. It was all too much. You had no time for anything else, just work and school. No time for friends outside of the cast. Hell, you barely had time for the people in the cast and you felt awkward when you wanted to spend time with them because you were 16 and everyone but Tom was almost twice your age. And sure, Tom was nice or whatever, but he was also an adult that didn’t need a fucking chaperone accompanying him if they wanted to go down the road to get away from set. 
You did know that stress was going to be high and there really wouldn’t be a lot of time to relax and take it easy going into the movie, but you seriously overestimated your ability to handle this level of stress. The late nights, early mornings, always needing to be perfect at everything; it was killing you.
Why do I have to keep doing this? I can’t do it anymore I can’t. I need a break. 
You sobbed for a good few minutes before dissolving into a coughing fit. You glanced at the alarm clock on the table. It was 11:30 PM. You choked another sob out, realizing that you were definitely failing this assignment. 
Tears stream down your face while you finish answering all the questions wrong and turn in the assignment. 
Giving up again? Nothing new. Fucking idiot. Suck it up and do it, you privileged fuck. Stop being such a fucking baby and maybe you’d actually get somewhere.
You wiped your eyes aggressively. You weren’t getting anywhere by crying like a baby. 
Might as well just go to sleep. I can’t even do that without help, fuck.
You stood up from the desk chair and made your way to your bags. You pulled out an opaque black makeup and looked through it. There was an empty bottle of sleeping pills sitting in it. 
Empty of fucking course. Can’t even keep track of simple things. Idiot. 
There were a lot of stores around the hotel you were in, but it was almost midnight. And as a 16 year old girl, you had to be accompanied by a chaperone over the age of 25 if you wanted to go somewhere off set or outside the hotel. Even though you are emancipated, there was still a lot of legal risks Marvel was just not going to take with you. 
Everyone else was likely asleep at this point. You had to be up at 5 AM to catch your flight the next morning. You could just not sleep tonight, but after that crying spell, you knew you needed to. The only problem was that you couldn’t sleep without help and you had no more pills left. 
Besides, no one would agree to go with you to a store to get anything they didn’t perceive as an absolute necessity. Unless…
You pulled out your phone and sent a message to Chris, someone you knew would be up, especially because he had to share a room with Sebastaian. They acted like school girls when they were together. 
you: hey you up
cap cap cap: yeah whats up?
you: can you come to a store with me?
cap cap cap: it’s a little late for that kid. can it wait till morning? we have to be up in 5 hours for the flight
you: I need girl stuff and none of the others are up
cap cap cap: meet me outside of our rooms seb is coming too
you: k thanks
You slipped on a sweater, grabbed your wallet and phone and made your way to the lobby. Sure enough, Sebastian and Chris were standing there, both in sweats and sweatshirts. You offered a sheepish smile.
“Thanks guys,” You say. They smile back at you.
“No thanks needed, kid. You have needs.” Chris says.
Sure, you felt bad about lying about the real reason you wanted to go to a store. But it was either leave and get a bit of sleep or stay and not sleep at all.
“There’s a small convenience store a few blocks west,” Sebastian says, looking up from his phone.
“Where the fuck is west?” Chris asks.
“That way,” Sebastian responds, pointing in a general direction. Chris frowned, looking down at your blank face.
“Y/N?” Chris asks. Your head snaps up at the sound of your name.
“Yeah?”
“You usually tell me to ‘watch my fucking language’ when I swear.”
“Oh, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Watch your fucking language, Evans.” You say without the usual fervor.
“You feeling okay, doll?” He asks,moving to place a hand on your forehead.
“Yeah, fine. Girl shit,” You duck away from his hand, moving in the direction Seb was pointing. 
Chris furrows his eyebrows, trying to read you. But his small investigation was cut short by a loud group of drunk, and possibly high, men stumbling out of a bar. It was pretty early for people to be this shit faced. 
They were stumbling, shoving each other in a bunch of different ways and laughing, whooping and yelling incoherently. You watched as one threw up over the road, only being supported by one of his buddies who appeared to be as drunk as he was.
“Y/N, stay close.” Sebastian says, putting an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. Chris moves closer to the both of you, covering the side of you that was left vulnerable. 
The group parted like the red sea when the three of you walked towards them. Apparently they weren’t drunk enough to pick a fight with people that could quite literally rip them apart.
You looked up at Chris and Sebastian. Their faces were stone cold, clearly intimidating to anyone that looked at them, even their friends. It was a far cry from the warm smiles they usually dawned. You glanced around to see one of the guys in the group ogling you. He locked eyes with you, licked his lips then bit down on his bottom one. You moved closer to Sebastian, turning your face into his side. He shot a glare at the guy who immediately called for his buddies that had moved on to wait for him. You wrap your arms around your stomach and settled into a nice walking pace.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian asks softly, looking down to you and rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. You simply nodded, fixing your gaze to the sidewalk in front of you.
“That was gross. What kinda person stares at a girl walking down the street?” Chris asks. You knew that if it wouldn’t get him in serious trouble, he’d fist fight that guy. 
The rest of the walk was of Chris trying to cheer you up a bit. He told you funny stories of him and his buddies, of the cast on past tours, and just about anything he thought would get you to laugh. Nothing was working. 
Sebastian held the door for you as you went in. Chris and Sebastian followed you in, waiting for your wordlessly as you picked up what you needed. The only occupant was a lonely, very tired clerk sitting at the counter looking like he was going to sleep for weeks when he got off shift. You shopped pretty quickly, grabbing a few candy bars, a bottled drink, tampons, some generic brand Tylenol and a pack of sleeping pills before heading to the zombie clerk.
“You have to buy Naloxone with this purchase because you’re buying an acetaminophen. Store policy.” His dead eyes bore into you as you pulled some money from your wallet.
You give a small nod of acknowledgment. He rings up the box and throws the Naloxone in the small plastic bag with all of your other items. You hand him some cash and he gives you your change.
“Ready?” Chris asks, yawning slightly.
“Yeah,” You felt the way zombie clerk looked: tired and totally fucking dead inside.
The three of you walked back to the hotel at the same pace as before. This time it was silent. The walk lasted about the same time, 10 minutes or so each way. The three of you took the stairs up to the third floor.
You held the door to the stairs open for them.
“Thanks again, guys. I really appreciated this.”
“Anything for you, Y/N.” Chris smiles sleepily. 
“Yeah, you’re welcome. Get some rest.” Sebastian says, moving to hug you goodnight. You wrapped your arms around Sebastian’s neck and he wrapped his arms around your back. He was warm and smelled like old spice. It was nice and you felt safe. Safe enough to want to spill your heart out, safe enough to tell him what you’ve been thinking, how you’ve been so hard on yourself with no good results. You want him to help you. You want him to tell you that everything was going to work out and that you’ll be okay. But you don’t. You simply let go and hug Chris.
Chris was warmer than Sebastian, and he smelled like soft mint. You felt just as safe. Tears pricked your eyes; you really didn’t want to go back to your room and be alone. You wanted to stay with them and talk or listen to them talk. Just being around them makes you feel a little better.
But you let go. You willed your tears away and thanked them one last time before going to your room, unaware that the two men had stayed in the hallway.
You walked down the small entryway and set your bag on the desk by your laptop bag. You pulled out the sleeping pill, popped two in your hand and swallowed them dry. You stayed seated at the desk. A stack of failed papers sat adjacent to the laptop bag. Frowning, you picked them up, barely able to make out the critiques in the dull light of your hotel room. Red pen was scribbled on a paper that you had wrote reviewing FDR’s presidency.
45%. You had received a 45 % on this essay. It took you almost two weeks to write and you got a 45%.
I’m fucking useless. I can’t even write an essay right.
You moved on to another essay you had written, This was your worst, You got a 30% on it. 30% was the lowest grade you had gotten on something that you put genuine effort into.
God, why do I even try anymore. What’s the point of school. I should just drop out, fuck. I should focus on acting. I can at least do that okay.
A drop of water fell on the paper in front of you, smearing the red ink that covered the page. Huh. You didn’t even realize you were crying again.
I’m just a dumb baby. Why do I try anymore? I should go home. My parents were right about me. I’ll never be good enough, I should just go home.
Your breathing sped up and you choked on your sobs in a weak attempt to stay quiet.
Why aren’t the pills working? I want to sleep.
You fumbled with the packaging of the pills, four more falling into your hands. You throw them in your mouth and swallow them dry. 
Your hands start to burn. It blossoms through your arms and through your chest, moving down to your feet. Your head throbs as though someone is leading a marching band through your cerebral cortex. You wince, rubbing your temples.
The pounding gets stronger and stronger until you can’t take it. You reach for the plastic shopping bag on your desk. You snatch the painkillers from it, rip off the packaging on grab a small handful. Without thinking, you shoved them into your mouth and swallowed. 
You couldn’t breath. They had gotten stuck while you attempted to swallow them. You needed water. You spotted your water bottle on the nightstand. You jumped up and rushed over to the nightstand, you tripped on something. The world is a blur around you as your forehead collides with the sharp corner of the wooden table. You yelp, sucking in a sharp breath. You push your head into your hands, putting pressure on the wound. 
The pain moves quickly. Soon, all you could think about was the burning and the pounding in your head. You push yourself against the small space between the wall and the nightstand, head still held by your hand.
You heard three dull thumps resonate through the room. Then you heard your name. More thumps then nothing. The pain was the only thing on your mind. That and the fact that your hands and cheeks were wet and beginning to grow sticky.
Why are my hands wet? I cry from my eyes, not my forehead. Oh, fuck this hurts.
You didn’t know how much time had passed from the thumping and someone pulling at your hands. You didn’t try to resist them. You were fading. Everything was blurry, the blob in front of you reminded you of your friend Chris. He was a real cool guy with really pretty eyes. But there were two of the colored blobs and Chris didn’t have a twin so it couldn’t be him.
Then you were being laid down on your side with your arms being manipulated. You tried to keep your eyes open but you were tired and in pain. You wanted it to go away. 
Why isn’t it going away?
_____________________
You reminded Chris of a puppy- energetic, affectionate and adorable in a way that only young and small things could be.
So he knew that something was up when you walked out of your hotel room with red and puffy eyes. This was more than pain and your hormones being out of whack. The walk confirmed his suspicions. You were quite- too quiet. You barely spoke. You barely looked at the two of them.
The hug made him want to stay with you for the rest of the night and talk. You almost cried when you hugged him. The only time you ever cried was when you had to for a scene.
Truth be told, he didn’t want to let you go. He holds you tightly, even when you loosen your grip on him.
“There’s something wrong, man,” Chris said after the door to your room closed. “She never cries.”
“She’s probably in pain. We aren’t girls, but we’ve heard how painful periods can be.”
“This is different.”
“Let’s talk to her in the morning, She’s probably stressed and in pain,”
Chris relented, following Sebastian to their room and laying in his bed, He didn’t get to sleep at all. He doesn’t know how much time had passed before he heard a loud thump and a yelp through the wall. He sat up, throwing the covers off of him. That was from your room. He bit his lip and stood up, slipping on some slide on shoes, he went to your room next door.
He knocked, “Y/N?” He knocked more. “Are you okay? Can you let me in, hon? I want to talk to you.”
No answer. He frowned. He tried one more time. Nothing, again. Chris looked around the hall while he waited impatiently for you to answer. His heart began to pump a little faster and something tugged in his gut. He needed to make sure you were okay and you really weren’t making it easy. After nothing happened again, he went down the stairs and to the front desk. Unsurprisingly, the front desk was empty. He rang a small bell they had. A tired young woman came from the back.
“Hi, how can I help you?" 
‘I lost the card to my room, can I get a new one?” Chris quickly lied. 
“Sure, what room?”
“321.”
She pulled out a key and magnetized it. In any other situation, he would be appalled that this woman didn’t ask for his name or even check that he was the right occupant of the room, but he was grateful for it now.
He practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, opened the door and walked in. It was dark, the only thing lighting the room was the lamp on the desk.
He fully expected to see you asleep on the bed and confirm that the thump and yelp was something else. But the only thing on the bed was your wallet and phone. He frowned, looking around. The bathroom door was open and you weren’t there.
He turned, looking around some more. Then he saw you. You were curled up between the nightstand and the bed. Your hands were cradling your forehead in shaking hands.
“Y/N, sweetie? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He spoke gently, trying not to startle you.
You didn’t even look up at him. He crouched down by you, gently pulling a hand away from your face. It was shaking horribly and covered in a red substance he prayed wasn’t blood. He pulled the other one away too. This one was drenched in what was most definitely blood and shaking as well. Your face was covered in it; it was dripping down your cheeks, over your nose, in your hair and even on your clothes.
“Y/N? Oh, my god! What happened to you?” He asked, brushing some hair that got caught in the mess away from your face. 
You eyes were heavily lidded and unfocused. You were staring him in the face but it was like he wasn’t there. Then he looked at your face closer. Your lips were turning purple.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, patting his pockets for his phone. He stood up from his crouched position he quickly grabbed your phone, opened emergency contacts and dialed 911.
“911, what is your emergency?” A woman answered.
“Something is wrong with my friend. Her head is covered in blood, she’s shaking uncontrollably, and her lips are turning purple, I need an ambulance.”
“Okay, what is your location?”
“W Hotel on west seventh and main. Hurry, please.” Chris begged, pacing in front of your limp body.
“Okay, we have one en route. What’s your name sir?”
“Chris,”
“Okay, Chris. What room are you in?”
“I’m in room 321.”
“Is she responsive?“
"No, she’s just staring at me. I don’t think she knows I’m here,” Chris was crying at this point. With tears steadily flowing down his cheeks, he tried to stay calm for you.
“Did she consume any dangerous substances?”
“I-I don’t know. Fuck, how far is the ambulance?”
“They’re almost there.”
“Okay, please hurry, I think she’s dying.” Chris choked the last part out. This wasn’t real. There was no way that you, a 16 year old girl had just attempted suicide. 
No way. 
But it was real. You were laying in front of him, dying and he could do nothing about it.
Its takes too long for the medics to get there. But when they do, Chris steps back and panics in the corner.
They’re leaning over you and asking him things but he can’t think. He can’t breathe. Everything he knew about managing his anxiety went out the fucking window. 
He ended up riding to a hospital in the same car as you, holding your hand as they stabilized you. When they got to the hospital, he filled out paperwork for you.
Then he waited. 
He was led to a smaller, private waiting room and he sat. And he waited. The rest of the cast came in. Most of them were still in the clothes they had slept in. Sebastian and Robert had gotten their first, awoken by the medics and the noise in the hall. They got in a cab or something and followed the ambulance to the hospital. They just sat together in silence while everyone else trickled in.
Lizzie was crying. Hell, they all were in a state of shock. Chris just sat in a chair in a corner, trying to process what he saw.
How did she bleed that much? Why was she bleeding in the first place? Was it on purpose? Was it pills? Did she commit suicide? Why didn’t I see it? Is she dead? How could I have let this happen? His mind was going a mile a minute, but he sat completely still.
He was obviously oblivious to something because if he had done something earlier than this wouldn’t have done this. He could have stopped this from happening. 
The doctor comes in about two hours after everyone arrives. Its 3 AM.
“Are you here for Y/N Y/L/N?” He asks, holding a clipboard.
“Yes, we are.” Robert says, standing up. 
“What happened?”
“Is she okay?”
“My name is Dr. Ashby,” He began. "Y/N overdosed on drugs. We pumped her stomach. It’s highly unlikely any permanent damage has been done from the pills, but she has fractured a small part of her forehead. We believe that she has a concussion. She’s resting right now. We don’t know when she’ll wake up, but she will be okay.”
“Do you think she did it on purpose?” Tom asks softly, eyes glistening and red. 
The doctor sighed. “In my professional opinion, no. There wasn’t enough in her system to kill her or do any permanent damage. However, if you want a more accurate opinion, you should ask the officers that went to the hotel or Y/N after she’s had some time to recover.”
“Thank you Dr. Asby," 
The doctor left. The sounds of sniffling and soft crying still filled the room. Hours ticked by slowly. Too slowly.
"Are you okay, Chris?” Robert asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Chris looked up at him. His dark hair was messy and his eyes were watery like the rest of theirs. Chris sighed and shook his head.
“There was so much blood,” He started. “Her lips were purple- she was dying. She didn’t even know I was there.” Robert sat next to him.
“I was with her before it happened. I could-”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Chris. You couldn’t have known that this was going to happen.”
“I know,” Chris rubbed his face, then ran a hand through his hair.
“You found her, and she’s going to be okay. That’s what matters right now,”
_____________________
The sound of beeping and ringing woke you up. It was constant, loud and probably the most annoying thing that you could have ever imagined waking up to. You patted your bedside, looking for your phone to turn off the alarm and stop the ringing. The sharp stench of bleach filled your nose, making you cringe. Your hotel did not smell like bleach.
Something’s wrong.
You opened your eyes, wincing at the bright lights. You brought an arm up cover your eyes only to find that you were hooked up to a machine. A heart monitor was at your side.
Okay. Why the fuck am I in a hospital? What the fuck? Why does my head hurt so fucking bad?
You sat up, despite feeling weak. You glanced around and began to panic, half tempted to bolt. You hated hospitals. That was a mistake. With the heart rate speeding up , the heart monitor followed suit. Your head throbbed from the added noise. Lying back down, you closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to try and think through whatever the fuck landed you in a hospital with this amount of head pain.
I was on a walk. It was night and I was with Seb and Chris. I went to a store. I bought some sleeping pills. I took them. Oh, my god. I overdosed. But why does my head hurt so fucking much?
You tried sitting up again after a few minutes. This time, you did it slow enough and kept calm enough to process everything that happened and why you were in a hospital.
Soon enough, a nurse came in. She smiled gently when she saw you awake. “Hi, Y/N. How are feeling?”
“My head hurts. A lot. What happened?”
“You overdosed on pills and you fractured your forehead I’m going to call your doctor, hang tight.” She said, still smiling.
Okay. I overdosed on pills by accident. And broke my skull. Okay. What the fuck. I could have died. Cool. What the fuck is wrong with me?
You took a few deep breaths as you waited for the doctor. He didn’t take long to get there, surprisingly. He was older, had thinning hair and a small beer belly. “Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Dr. Ashby. How is your head?”
“It hurts. A lot. My ears are ringing”
He nods, writing what you said on a clipboard. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I was on a walk with two of my coworkers and I bought some sleeping pills. I took some and I woke up here.”
“Were you trying to harm yourself at all?”
You shake your head. Another mistake. More pain shot through your head, making your wince, and hold your forehead where the pain was at its worst. “No, no. I just wanted to sleep.”
He gives you another nod, writing that down as well. 
“What happened?” You ask. 
"You overdosed on pills. We don’t think any permanent damage was done, but we’d like to run some tests to confirm that,” He began, placing his pen in the clipboard. “You hit your head and you likely have a moderate concussion. We’ll run some tests for that too." 
"What time is it?” The doctor checks his watch. 
“It is 1 AM." 
"How long was I out?" 
"A little more than a day." 
"When can I leave?” You ask, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice. 
“We’re going to start running some tests, and once those come back we’ll discuss them and after that, we can let you go.”
“How long will that be?”
“We have a few blood tests that need to be run. Those will take a week to ten days to get back. Don’t worry, you don’t have to tay for those. However, we do have to run a couple diagnostics to see what happened to your head. We can have you out tomorrow or the day after. 
You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. “Thanks Dr. Ashby.”
He asked a series of questions and had you do a series of tasks, confirming that you did give yourself a concussion. After that was done, a nurse came into take your blood. After she left, you laid back in your bed, the ringing in your ears growing louder. 
Fuck. The media probably has their dirty little paws all over this. Y/N Y/L/N in the Hospital After Overdose. Marvel Actress Dies After Overdose, just kidding she’s alive. 
You sigh and close your eyes, wishing this was just a bad dream that you could wake up from. But the bandages on your head, the ringing in your ears and the monitors say otherwise. You struggle to fall back asleep, but when you do its fitful and full of unrest.
The morning came too quickly. Visiting hours started at nine and you knew your co-stars and likely a bunch of reporters were going to want to see you. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your co-stars- it wasn’t that at all. You loved the people you worked with, but you scared of how they were going to react to what happened. 
“Good morning, Y/N,” Your nurse said. She was really sweet and wore a smile whenever you saw her. 
“Good morning,” You smile back, taking the meds she gave you. 
“Visiting hours begin in 15 minutes. I know you’re nervous. Don’t worry about any reporters or anyone like that coming in. We’ve made sure that no one of those sorts are allowed in.” That was a huge relief. 
“Thank you,” You’re sure you visibly relaxed. 
“You’re welcome, dear. Do you need anything else?" 
"No, thanks again,” She left the room, leaving you to your own devices. 
At exactly nine in the morning, Chris shuffles into your room with a bear and a small bouquet of sunflowers. 
“Hey,” He said softly. He looked rough. His hair was clean but untamed and his eyes were red. He was wearing a sweater and some jeans. You looked back down at the bed because what the fuck were you supposed to say? 
Hi, I’m so sorry for almost killing myself accidentally. Oops, guess my hand slipped and took too many pills when I was just trying to get to sleep. Yeah, no. 
“How are you feeling?” He pressed when you said nothing, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. You shrugged, picking at the blanket on the bed. 
“C'mon, talk to me. What’s been goin’ on, kid?" 
"I don’t wanna talk about it,” You say softly. 
“Not talking about it isn’t working,” His voice hardened slightly.
“It was an accident,” You say, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to sleep.” Chris sighs, laying the flowers and bear on a chairs behind him. 
“Scoot over,” He says. You gave him a strange look as he stood above your bed, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I won’t bite. Promise,” 
You scoot to the other side of the bed. He half-sits half-stands and wraps his arms around you, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head, mindful of your injury, and cradles your head against his warm chest. He smells like soft mint. You feel safe. More tears well up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him in return. 
“Did you want to hurt yourself?” He was shaking lightly.
“No, I swear. I just wanted to get some sleep. That’s it. I don’t remember anything but taking a couple pills.” He sighed, your head rising and falling with his chest. 
“You scared the shit out of us, kid.” His voice wobbled, some tears fell in your hair. “God, don’t ever do that again,” He buried his face in your hair. You knew he was crying. You were too, the tears flowing freely down your face. 
“I’m sorry,” You say softly. “I really didn’t mean to.” He didn’t say anything else, he just held onto you. 
Maybe I can tell him. He can help. He obviously cares. He wouldn’t show up if he didn’t care about me. Just be honest. 
“I was doing homework,” You mumble, hiding your face in his chest. If you were going to tell him what’s been going on, there was no way you could look at him in the face. You’d back out and pretend everything was okay. He didn’t say anything. And if he reacted, you couldn’t see it. 
“I’m failing three of my classes. It was too hard to focus so I just turned it in. I wanted to go to bed so I looked for my sleeping pills, but I ran out. That’s why I asked you to go to the store with me.” You sit up and wipe the tears off your eyes. “I took some and they weren’t working so I took more. Then my hands were burning. That’s all I remember,”
Chris’s arms tightened around you, drawing you back to him. “You hit your head. There was a lot of blood, and your lips turned purple. I thought you were dying.”
“I’m sorry,” You say, breath hitching as you began to cry steadily again. You spent the next few moments crying into his chest. 
He must’ve found me. Fuck. Fuck me, fuck me. I’m terrible. 
“I’m so sorry, Chris, I am. I’m sorry,” You sputtered out, clutching his shirt in your hands. 
“I know. I forgive you now that I know you’re okay. Take a deep breath. It’s okay,” He says, running a hand up and down your back. He started to breath melodramatically and you followed suit, soon calming down enough to stop crying. 
“Everyone else wants to see you, but there’s a two person limit." 
"Then why’d you come alone?” Chris shook his head, reaching for the bear. He handed it to you.
“A bear?” A brown bear specifically. A brown bear dressed as Captain America with black dark blue buttons for eyes even more specifically.
“Yeah, I thought that if I couldn’t be there for you then another Captain America could,” 
“You know I’m not six, right?” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. 
Chris shrugged, eyes still wet. You leaned over and hugged him again. 
“Thank you,” You say, voice cracking. “For everything.”
“Anything for you, Y/N.”
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etraytin · 4 years
Text
Quarantine, Day 194
September 21
So I didn't get done anything that involved leaving the house today, which is not great. It was just kind of a failure to launch day, I guess. I did get stuff done inside the house though; folded the laundry, made an enormous pot of spaghetti and meatballs, dewormed the kittens, etc. I will definitely have to leave the house tomorrow because when the kiddo realized tomorrow is going to be gorgeous all day, he was sad until I told him we could try doing school outside by hotspotting off my phone. (unlimited data on the family plan ftw!) He has now come up with an elaborate plan that also involves snacks and drinks, so I may have to get up a bit earlier than usual to set stuff up. I'm nobody's Pinterest Mom, but it's nice to do something a little different and fun sometimes. 
I realized I've been falling a little behind on watering my garden because I got so used to the rain, so I gave everything a good drink and perked it up today. I also harvested some more lemongrass and some ginger leaves and made a very nice tea from them. I learned today that lemongrass is perennial, so there is a possibility it might live through the winter and come back next year. It's not certain because I planted it in the most ridiculous possible spot, one of the side pockets in a strawberry pot, but it apparently liked it there well enough to grow like crazy all through the late summer. It and the lavender both survived, the cilantro grew and flowered and died, and the dill apparently didn't like being there. I did not put any strawberries in the strawberry pot this year because the plants I bought were too big. I think we may have explored this topic in the early early days of this journal but that was a thousand years ago and I do not remember. The ginger leaves just came from some ginger root that I forgot to use and stuck in an unused pot of dirt when it got all wrinkly. It grew beautifully! (Here's the strawberry pot early this summer on its trip to North Carolina. I got it in Laredo and it is one of my favorite things.)
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I explained to the kiddo that today was the autumnal equinox, the day of the year where day and night are balanced, just before the nights start getting longer. He sighed and wished it was the other way around, so I also explained the vernal equinox. He was not impressed. He spent more time outdoors today and also a lot of time in with the kittens. They are at an extremely fun age right now, though apparently Audiva nearly got him chat banned on his minecraft server for typing gibberish. I can empathize, Sebell nearly installed the Harris Teeter app on my phone this evening by sitting on it. The biggest problem with the kiddo's current kitten preoccupation is definitely his allergies, poor kid. At least we have allergy meds for him. I also gave the kittens their second dewormer this evening, to take care of any nasty little roundworms. It's only Pyrantel though, so they'll probably need Drontal as well to take care of any tapeworms. Any kitten who has had fleas might have tapeworms, yucky. Better to take care of it while they are young and in foster! 
I keep telling myself that it is almost the end of the month, but it really is not. I can put off shopping for a few more days, but not ten full days till payday. The good news is I did get paid for some mystery shops I did a few weeks ago, so that's 70 dollars in pay any reimbursement that can go towards groceries. I already told my shopping people that I'm not doing any more restaurant shops this month because I'm out of money. They understand, they don't exactly have glamorous high-paying jobs themselves. I may, I suppose, do a couple of grocery store shops because I have to get groceries anyway, may as well take the edge off by getting a little bit paid for, right? If only it weren't the most expensive grocery stores hiring mystery shoppers! I have an extensive list by now that just keeps growing and growing, but the only thing I bought today was another pack of 50 disposable masks. They're cheap on Amazon if you don't mind waiting a month for them to ship, so I have just been ordering a new pack (about six dollars) every few weeks and assuming I will be ready for them by the time they arrive. 
In the meantime, I made a huge pot of spaghetti tonight so that we will have several meals worth of leftovers. I also pulled a ham out of the freezer (buy your ham after the ham holidays, so cheap!) and by the time the spaghetti is gone, the ham should be ready to cook. My husband doesn't like ham by itself much, but ham is incredibly versatile and can go into a million things. Plus ham salad is one of my favorite lunch foods ever. Anyway, I chopped up an onion and cooked it in a little butter till it was just starting to go a little golden, then threw in garlic and a pound of ground beef and a bunch of Penzey's Pasta Sprinkle. I used my Dutch oven because I wanted to make _lots._ When the meat was cooked I sponged off some of the grease with paper towels, then added an undrained can of diced tomatoes, a couple spoonsful of sugar, some salt and pepper, and three cans of the cheapest brand of spaghetti sauce. You really can't beat the convenience and volume of just oomphing up the kind of sauce that's 88 cents for a 20 ounce can. I threw in a bunch of frozen meatballs and simmered it for twenty minutes, then added a few big handfuls of mozzarella cheese and served it over angel hair. Very popular, and so many leftovers! I am the best at dinner. 
This day’s entry is already getting long, but I really ought to remember the Punching Mattress for posterity as well. The kiddo is now happy in his new bed on his new mattress, which means the old bed is kaput. I sold the twin frame in less than a day on Facebook Marketplace for 25 dollars. I paid 90 for it in 2013, so it was a good deal for both parties.  The mattress is only about a year old, but the kiddo has had a few destructive-feelings days and kind of severely messed up the fabric on one end. So it's not likely we're going to be able to do anything with that mattress and for now it is leaning against the wall in our entrance hallway like we're expecting a human cannonball over for dinner. I don't even remember who started it now, but it has become a good place to let off some excess energy by pretending you are a superhero or a championship martial artist. Yelling "punch, punch, punch!" while punching the mattress is optional but encouraged unless somebody is in a Zoom class. It's good exercise, and cathartic, too! I'm kind of melancholy about the idea of getting rid of it already.   
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Shirbert, plz.
Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?
So, first off Gilbert is a sleep deprived doctor who need coffee every three hours or he will literally collapse. It also doesn’t help that the barista in the hospital coffee shop is really pretty. He even talks to her some times if he’s pulling the midnight shift and there’s no one around. She’s going to grad school for creative writting and, ironically, doesn’t drink coffee. Prefers tea apparently. Gilbert is kind of suspicious she might be an alien. 
Next Christmas he gives her a bag of really good earl grey tea. She gives him his large coffee with four shots of expresso on the house. A couple months later she invites him to her birthday party. Well, her friend Diana was there dropping off a dress for Anne to wear when Gilbert came in to get his third cup of coffee and she invited him. It was a flapper dress, since Anne was turning 25 and celebrating her roaring 20s with a roaring 20s party. Later that month he got over his nerves and asked her out. She said yes, and later it is revealed that Bash won the hospital betting pool the doctors and nurses set up.
Highschool/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and who’s the backrow slacker?
Anne is the straight A student. She raises her hand at every opportunity and knows every answer to every question. Her notes were the most meticulous in the entire school. Gilbert, the exact opposite. He never raises his hand, never takes any notes, and never pays attention either. The weird thing? Anne is only 2nd in her class. Gilbert is first. No matter how hard she tries, he tries less, and she still losses to him. Every single time. It doesn’t help that Mr. Phillips kinda hates Anne and gives Gilbert praise just to spite her. Eventually, they join the debate club and their rivalry goes into overdrive. Well, it’s kind of one sided. Anne tries furiously, Gilbert doesn’t try at all. 
Rivals to loves AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?
Just like above, Anne takes their rivalry very seriously but Gilbert just likes the idea of her thinking about him at all. 
Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?
Gilbert would do anything for Anne, including changing sides. 
Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?
Anne wants to meet her soulmate so god damn badly. It’s all she’s dreamed about her entire life. At 12 years old, she waits eagerly with Diana to see the first words he will say to her. Then she sees them. “Carrots.” Her face goes as red as her hair. Diana, well versed in Anne’s self esteem issues, immediately assures her that it might not be as bad as it sounds. A few months later, in a nearby hospital, Gilbert and his father stay up late into the night waiting for the words to appear. “Back off, and leave me alone.” Gilbert didn’t know what to say to that. “Well, at least she knows how to speak her mind,” her father said. 
Two years later, his dad is finally out of chemo and they move out of Charlottetown and back to their small village of Avonlea to a very warm welcome. When Anne first sees him and asks about him (she had come to Avonlea after he had left for Charlottetown.) A very nice boy, apparently. Good, he wasn’t someone who would, for example, call her carrots. Josie sees Anne’s smile and quickly reminds her and everyone else that Gilbert belongs to Ruby (Ruby’s soulmate says “hi” the first time he sees her. It did not narrow it down much, so Ruby decided through the power of delusion that it’s Gilbert). Anne nods, and knows that he’s not her soulmate so she should back off. He sees her too, and is entranced. 
In class, they are reading Pride and Prejudice. Anne is completely absorbed in by the book and Gilbert is completely absorbed by Anne. He tries to get her attention but can’t. He leans over to her desk and in a moment of frustration pulls her hair and calls her “Carrots”. She swivels around and uses the hardcover book she was reading to smack him upside the head. “Back off and leave me alone,” she said instinctively, then realised what he had said. He realised what she had said. A small smile spread across his face as horror consumed hers. 
Gilbert pursues her, knowing that they would end up together. Anne is in totally in denial, insisting that just because hers says carrots and his says back off doesn’t mean they are actually soulmates. Eventually, Anne comes around. They have their first kiss and then get married and no, she never again doubted that they belonged together.
Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again… Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)
Gilbert is the single father to Delphine. Originally her godfather he was forced to assume the role of single parent when her parents died in a care accident. His entire life revolves around her and he would never do anything to jeopardize her happiness. Which is awful because he has been developing a little bit of a crush on her 4th grade teacher, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. Featuring a young Delphine that attempts to parent trap her dad and her teacher together. Spoiler alert: it works.
Doctor AU: Which one is the long suffering doctor? Which one is the patient?
We all know this one: Gilbert is a doctor. Anne is his clumsy patient.
Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?
Anne is a highly successful romance writer. Gilbert is meant to protect her. But he has fallen in love with her, and that’s making his job complicated. Anne has found herself having a “protector” side character in every one of her recent books. There was a white knight in “Midnight at Morningstar Castle” who layed down his life to protect the heroine. The scientist in “Stars Above” spent the entire book keeping the heroine safe and though she was in outer space and could only see him though a tiny screen she described him as “incredibly handsome” three times. “Tough Choices in Tough Times” had the protector in the love triangle this time, since he was a humble farmer in the great depression trying to make sure the heroine didn’t have to sell her farm even though she has feelings for the bank manager’s son and if she accepted his marriage proposal she wouldn’t have to worry about the farm. In the end, the bank manager’s son left the bank to live with her on the farm and work the land with her, but there was a lot of fans who liked the protective farmer better. Now she’s nervous because her next book is straight up about a famous gunslinger meant to escort the young daughter of a not so well liked politician across the country to her new fiancée but ends up leaving him to be with her gunslinger. The thing is, she wrote this alone. She only sees Gilbert whenever she goes on a book our so how does she travel across the country with him in 20-ish different cities across the country without letting him know what the book is about because then he might think it’s about him (it totally is, the cowboy is literally called Gilmore) and wacky highjinks ensues.
Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?
Anne is a pirate and I'm pretty sure I already started this one.
Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?
It was super obvious to everyone except Anne that Gilbert was in love with her. But it wasn’t till their 10 year reunion that Gilbert confessed to Anne. The next day, Anne broke off her engagement to Roy and asked him if maybe he still had those feelings. He did. They showed up to their 20 year reunion with 3 children.
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fanficshiddles · 4 years
Text
This wasn’t part of the plan, Chapter 25
Tom managed to get a message to Melody through Rana. Saying that he would wait for Melody around the corner in the car, he was going to give Rana a lift home, too.
Melody and Rana left the building and were crossing the grounds towards the gate, there were others starting to leave at the same time as them.
But then Brad and a few of his mates came over to Melody and Rana.
‘Ladies, wait up.’ Brad said as charmingly as he could, making Melody and Rana roll their eyes.
Brad liked to think of himself as some kind of prince charming. But he was far from it. Even though a lot of other girls did always get giddy around him and would have no problem saying yes to a night with him. But he was a nice enough guy, if a little full of himself. He was the type that would go out of his way to help someone out, no questions asked.
‘What do you want, Brad?’ Rana asked as the two kept walking.
Brad jogged to keep up and moved on front of them, walking backwards. ‘There’s an after party happening at mine, why don’t you ladies come and join us?’
He stopped when Melody and Rana stopped walking.
‘Nah, we’re good.’ Melody said and Rana agreed.
‘Aww come on, you two are always good fun at parties. It would be great to have you there.’ Brad said with a sad face as he reached out and put his hand on Melody’s shoulder in a friendly manner.
‘Why thank you. But we are heading’ Melody was cut off when she heard quick footsteps coming towards them, from behind Brad.
‘Get your hands off her!’
Brad was grabbed on the shoulder and harshly swung around to face a furious looking Mr Hiddleston. He looked ready to explode.
Melody and Rana’s eyes widened, so did Brads.
‘Mr Hiddleston… Sir… I wasn’t doing anything!’ Brad put his hands up in defence.
‘Sir, it’s fine. We were all just heading away home.’ Melody said quickly, trying to calm the situation.
‘Well I suggest you get a move on.’ He said while glaring at Brad.
‘Sir, with respect… but we are out of class and’
‘MOVE IT, ADDAMS.’ Tom bellowed at Brad.
Brad jumped and scurried away with his mates, all of them looked back over their shoulders once then carried on away.
Tom looked at Melody and was a little startled to find she was glaring at him with her arms over her chest. ‘WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?’ She screeched, flailing her arms out.
Tom narrowed his eyes at her. ‘He was’
‘NO! Tom. No! This was not like before. He was not doing anything wrong!’ She said sharply.
Melody stormed away and Rana quickly followed, not saying anything to Tom. Tom quickly followed and wasn’t happy when she stormed past his car.
‘Melody. The car is here.’
‘I’m walking.’ She snapped at him and didn’t look back.
‘MELODY!’ He shouted after her. ‘Get in the fucking car, Melody. You are NOT walking home at this time night. Neither of you!’ He said as he opened the passenger’s door.
Melody and Rana stopped, Melody was so pissed off. Rana looked at her and motioned towards Tom with her head. ‘He’s right, we shouldn’t be walking home just now.’
‘ARGHH!’ Melody grumped and turned on her heels, stomping back over to the car. But instead of getting in the passenger’s side where Tom was holding the door for her, she swung the back door open and got in the back with Rana.
Tom clenched his jaw and shut the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten, calming himself down before going around the other side of the car and getting in.
The atmosphere could’ve been sliced with a knife, Tom focused on driving while Melody sulked in the back seat. Rana just sat there awkwardly, trying not to be sick from the alcohol.
When they pulled up at Rana’s place, Tom turned around with a sigh.
‘Look. I’m sorry about what happened, I let myself get too over the top.’
‘Yeah, you really did! You scared him shitless, Tom. And not to mention how suspicious that looked.’ Melody said, angry but her anger was faltering. She was just… annoyed and confused at the same time.
‘I know… I know.’ Tom sighed and looked down. ‘If you don’t want to come back to mine tonight, I’ll understand. I can take you home or do you want stay with Rana?’ Tom asked and glanced to Rana, who nodded.
‘Might be best, till tomorrow.’ Rana said and Melody agreed.
Melody and Rana left the car, Rana thanked Tom for the lift while Melody just looked at him, with a sad kind of look. Not sure what to make of the situation anymore. Tom didn’t either, being honest.
With a heavy heart, he drove on home.
‘I can’t believe this.’ Melody sighed when she got inside.
‘Mel, I know he over reacted. But he’s a hot-blooded male, you’re his girl. He had to deal with other guys all over you tonight, where he wasn’t able to do anything about it. Or show off that you and him are together. I know it wasn’t easy on either of you. I think it just bubbled up and when he saw Brad’s hand on your shoulder, he had no idea what to think and just exploded.’
Melody put her face in her hands. ‘I know… It’s just so fucking difficult sometimes. What if Brad tells the head? Or tells anyone for that matter?’
‘We will deal with Brad. Though he’s probably forgotten already by now.’ Rana put her hand on Melody’s back.
‘I guess… I’ll go around to Tom’s tomorrow and talk to him. Once we’ve both calmed down a bit.’
‘Good idea.’ Rana nodded in agreement.
-
The following day when Melody eventually went home to get changed, before planning to go around to see Tom, she stepped inside to find a letter on her floor. She frowned and scooped it up, she recognised that handwriting… It was Tom’s.
Opening it, her heart shattered into a million pieces…
Dearest Melody.
I am truly sorry for last night, I let myself get far too possessive over you and I can only apologise for it.
Events of late have made me realise that we are in a very risky situation. It’s not fair on you, at all, the way I am acting. I’ve let my emotions take over far too strongly. It’s no longer just a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship in my eyes…
I feel that it would be best, for you, that we end this. Before I/we fall any deeper and I do something stupid that will put us both at risk.
I am a man of my word, you can continue living here for as long as you wish, rent free. And I will continue to give you your weekly payment until you finish college, no strings attached. That is not up for any kind of argument.
I really wish you well in everything that you do, now and in the future.
But you deserve better than me. So much better.
All my love, Tom. x
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ashxketchum · 3 years
Note
6, 9, 12, 25
Yayyy, thank you so much for the ask, and for picking 25 because I know exactly what I need to post 😆
6. which wip is your favourite?
Wow this is like Sophie’s Choice hehe, but for Digimon, Koisuru will always be a favourite, since that’s the one that pushed me to learn and improve my writing. (I just really hope I can save if from WIP hell some day!)
For Beyblade, there’s this one where Tyson and Hilary’s class is putting up a play for the school festival and they’re playing the leads. It’s from Tyson’s pov and has a lot of potential which is why I’m kinda afraid of ruining it and am writing it at a snail’s pace since last year.
And for Pokemon, there’s the Quidditch AU which will never see the light cuz it’s too much work for my one shot wired brain.
9. (if you write fanfiction) which fandom do you like to write for most?
Beyblade.
Even though I’ve written way more for Digimon, I definitely enjoy writing TyHil more than anything since there’s no definite Canon ending for either of them so I can twist their lives around as much as I want without ever feeling that I'm derailing way too much from their canon versions. (Digimon OTP trauma is something I will always carry with me lol)
12. do you write on paper, laptop, or your phone?
Laptop.
My first TyHil x Pokeshipping crossover fanfic was written on paper some 14 years ago and is lost to the void forever.
25. post an excerpt of one of your wips.
I'll post the TyHil one I mentioned earlier, since it will be a while till I get around to finishing it!
x
“Why are you still here?”
Tyson opened an eye and peeked at the source of the disturbance. Only one person in their school was brave enough to wake him from one of his infamous naps without fearing the consequences. The brunette was standing in their classroom’s doorway with a disapproving look on her face and her hands fixed on her hips. When she saw him wake, she started to make her towards his desk.
“Gee, Hilary why do you think?” Tyson muttered in reply, trying to stifle a yawn as he opened his eyes fully and stretched his arms over his head in order to rid his body of the slumber that he had been so peacefully encompassed in until a few minutes ago.
“You know we’re supposed to be preparing for the school festival right now. Together. As a class.” She was standing right next to his desk now, but even then the glare she sent his way did not seem to have any effect on him.
“I don’t think I’m a group activities sort of person.” Tyson said, locking eyes with her, a determined look on his face.
“Says the guy who almost cried a river when his teammates left him.” Hilary scoffed at him.
“I didn’t cry, and let me rephrase that, I’m not a group activities person at school.” Tyson retorted, ears a little bit red from the brunette’s accusation.
“Oh come on Tyson, this will be fun!” Hilary groaned defeatedly, she propped herself over the desk Tyson had been sleeping on until a few minutes ago, knowing very well that it will be a while before he is convinced. Tyson was then forced to straighten up and lean back in his chair or else his head would’ve collided with her hip, and any remaining feeling of drowsiness left his body as he did so. “Chief has been working really hard for this, you know.” The brunette added, tilting her head sideways, to meet his eyes.
“In other words, he’s driving you all crazy and you need me to rein him back in.”
Hilary held his gaze before narrowing her eyes in annoyance, “He is driving us crazy, but I’m more than equipped to handle him and he has really been working hard so as his friend you should be there to support him. Just like we are always there to support the team.” She looked at him pointedly, stressing on certain words loudly and making him wince as she did so. Tyson groaned, she knew him well enough to know that the ‘I’m always there for you’ trick always worked immediately on him.
“And what exactly are we doing this year? Another cafe? Do you really want me to be around food and other edible items?” Tyson challenged her, trying to display a somewhat proud look on his face, even though internally he knew he’d already lost the battle by showing interest.
“No. I would not be here forcing you out of this chair that you glue yourself to every morning if I knew that our ingredients would be in danger.” She scowled deeply at him before continuing, “Frankly I’m surprised you don’t know what our class is putting up despite sitting through the meetings in the past week.”
Tyson shrugged guiltlessly, “I’m just as good at zoning out as I am at spinning tops.”
Hilary rolled her eyes and shook her head at his statement, after forcing the scowl off from her face, she looked at him with a sober expression and replied, “We’re putting up a play. Chief wrote it himself, and he is directing it too.”
Tyson leaned back further in his chair as a look of utter surprise settled on his face at her words, “You’re letting Chief direct it?”
“Well of course,” stated Hilary matter-of-factly, “he wrote it so he should be allowed to be in command.”
Tyson feigned shock and disbelief as he responded in a high-pitched voice, “Hilary Tachibana is letting other people be in command? Are you okay Hils? Do we need to take you to the hospital for an examination?”
x
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mhdiaries · 4 years
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Wave 2 Diary of Draculaura
15♥September
I “broke up” with Jackson Jekyll today... not that we were ever really dating I mean officially, which would have been nice but every time he would ask me out he would totally pull the invisible boy act on me and not show up. Or call. The next day he was always very sweet and apologetic but he could never remember why he forgot our date. I guess the final nail in the coffin was when he didn’t meet me at this party and I totally felt like a one tombstone graveyard. I ended up dancing with this scary hot DJ named Holt Hyde who acted like he knew me although I’m pretty sure that we hadn’t met before. Jackson and I are still friends but sometimes that’s just how the tombstone crumbles.
25♥September
Went to the beach with Frankie, Clawdeen and Clawd to watch Lagoona surf. It was a beautiful day, which meant I had to break out the sunscreen although the stuff I have to use is more like sunwall. It’s so thick it’s like being coated in honey and it’s like a sand magnet so I pretty much have to stay on a blanket the whole time or I end up looking like a sand sculpture. Oh well, it’s worth the annoyance to get to spend the day at the beach.
30♥September
I stayed up late reading a new novel about a forbidden romance between a werewolf girl and a vampire boy... like that would ever happen... but it’s so sweet and tragic I couldn’t put it down. Of course I slept through my alarm and was almost late for school, which meant my makeup was a mess cause I couldn’t take my time putting it on. Luckily, Ghoulia saw me before anyone else did and she helped me straighten it out so I didn’t walk into my first class looking like an undead clown... not that there’s anything wrong with that.
1♥October
I took one of those quizzes to see what kind of creature I am - I think all the teen monster mags have them now - which seems kind of strange since like I already know. Anyway, the quiz had questions ike: What is your favorite haunt? What is your favorite food? Would you rather be dead or undead? Do you run, shamble, fly or ooze? So after I answered all the questions I turned to the back to read: Congratulations! You are a Woodland Nymph! You are kind, gentle and love sunshine and nature. You probably make your home in a tree where you enjoy the company of many woodland animals that you would never scare or eat. I wonder if I should share this with father? LOL... maybe not = )
7♥October 
Clawd and Spectra had a monster argument today and it created such a fuss that both of them got called into Headmistress Bloodgood’s office. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Clawd so angry or Spectra so self-righteous but neither of them would talk about it when they came out of HHB’s office - not even to me! Clawdeen thinks it has something to do with Cleo and Clawd but I totally don’t understand how she made that connection. Now Clawdeen is mad at Cleo. Again. This is really sad and since it seemed like they were starting to actually tolerate each other.  
12♥October
I know a lot of monsters are not excited about having to write an essay on our monster heritage but I think it’s creeperifically cool! First of all, I’m writing a screenplay about my un-life and I think this will really help the third act and secondly because it gives me the opportunity to set the record straight about a couple of things. Beginning with the fact that my father is much older than any monster realizes. I mean he was already a vampire back when togas were first considered fashionable... sooo glad father doesn’t wear one anymore. Then there was that whole identity theft calamity that happened when we rented our castle in Transylvania to a total con-monster who went around pretending to be father. Now I have to carry a copy of my death certificate to prove that I really am as old as I say I am cause some monsters think I must be related to that loser. Unfortunately for the imposter his bats came home to roost and not in a good way either. The rest of my story, like how father took in me and my mother when no one else would and why I’m a vegan vampire I’m going to save for the screenplay which I would like to film in pink and white. How scary cool would that be?
16♥October
In the span on 3 days Clawdeen missed a test in Mad Science, a school dance and a buy one get one shoe sale at the Maul. Frankie and I knew something had to be wrong but Clawdeen wouldn’t answer our texts or emails. Finally Clawd showed us a picture he took of Clawdeen with his iCoffin. Her hair... it was... it was... not of this world. Clawd said she couldn’t fix it and had to “ctrl+alt+delete her new ‘do” with a pair of electric clippers. He said she was so depressed that she turned all her mirrors toward the wall and wasn’t even growling at Howleen for borrowing her clothes. I suggested we shave our heads too but then Frankie reminded me how fast Clawdeen’s hair grows and that we’d be bald a lot longer than she would so we came up with the idea of going to the Maul and buying Clawdeen a fierce fashionista scare package to cheer her up instead and that’s just what we did. Of course we bought some things for ourselves too = )
25♥October
I was supposed to fang out with the ghouls last night but I didn’t. I tried to explain what happened to Clawdeen but I couldn’t. She was annoyed with me cause I always tell her everything. She thinks I’m keeping a secret from her which I guess I sort of am but I’m not sure I want to talk to anybody about it yet. So I wrote this poem to describe what happened. I don’t know why it’s easier for me to express emotions in verse but sometimes it just is. I read it to Count Fabulous who usually leaves the room when I get too sappy but this time he flew down and gave me a little bat hug when I was finished. 
One fall autumn night I took a walk jaunt
to meet some friends at a familiar haunt
The sky above was very starry bright
and there seemed to me not a cloud in sight
So off I went without sans umbrella or coat
although what I probably needed was really a boat
Caust the clouds came rolled in with a dragon’s roar
and shortly thereafter it bagan to pour
Not a pleasant rain, good for plant and flower
but a driving, unfriendly, cold hard icy shower
Now I was halfway between home and there
my makeup was running ruined and so was my hair
With no shelter in sight or a way to get dry
I put my head face in my hands and started to cry
When out of the shower rain a voice broke through,
“Hey D it’s me Clawd, hey D is that you?”
As I blinked through the tears and rain I could see
Clawdeen’s brother Clawd, waving at me
Across four lanes of traffic bravely he dashed
with umbrella in hand to my side he flashed
He led helped me back to his car warm and dry
said not a word till I’d finished my cry
“Here’s a hot coffinccino whip cream no foam,
it’ll warm you right up while I drive you home.”
From the car he walked me up to my door
protecting me still from the storm’s downpour
As he turned to leave I placed a kiss on his cheek
then I ran inside before he could speak.
And while I watched his car disappear from sight
I felt something happen change for me that night
No longer did I see him as just my best friend’s brother
that night, to me, he became something other. 
The great thing about poetry is that it doesn’t have to be epic to express how you feel. Now I have to wonder, “Does he feel the same?”
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dianapana · 4 years
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SasuHina Month 2020- Day 9
Prompt-Prolonged Embraces
The exam had been awful; the questions were formulated in such a way that they were confusing to begin with but the subjects they asked about were also very difficult and hard to cover in 50 words. They had over 30 questions and barely an hour and half to finish, much like her, everyone else walked out of the room with their head bowed looking at the ground and doing everything in their power not to catch someone’s eye in case that person thought to strike up a conversation about said exam. They were also all moving in slow motion and zombie-like. The teacher had been cruel, Hinata had attended all classes, did all the extra work and studied as much as she could. Last night as she was looking over everything one last time, she felt hopeful and sure of her knowledge. When Ino quizzed her, she made no errors. But she barely had time to think so she wrote the first thing to come to mind; she didn’t even have time to look over everything before handing in the exam. Thankfully this had been her last exam this semester, this year and this University experience. Ino finished her exams two days ago and she wanted to go out and celebrate, but Hinata wanted to go home and take a 10-hour nap, wake up eat and then go back to sleep.
“I got out. Not 1 word abt it.” Hinata texted Ino and the blonde replied almost immediately witch a bunch of sad emojis.
Her first stop before going to the apartment and cry a little to let out her frustration and make herself better, was a fast food restaurant, she needed food and fast; thus the location. There was only one person in front of her so she was able to order her sub pretty fast. She sat herself at one of the empty tabled to eat half of it in a hurry. The other half she packed and put in her bag; she’d keep that one for later to eat after waking up.
Ino was in the living room on the sofa applying some more lipstick when Hinata walked in. Ino looked at her with sympathy and gave her a big hug.
“I’m sorry it sucked.” The blonde said but didn’t address more the topic because she knew Hinata didn’t really want to talk about it “What are you gonna do? Do you want to come with me and Sakura to a party?”
Hinata only shook her head. “I’ll go party with you this weekend, now I just want to sleep and forget everything I learned” Ino laughed
“Ok babe, but if you change your mind just shoot me a text and I’ll let you know where I am” The blonde said as she checked her reflection one more time before picking up her fanny pack and putting it around her waist. “Whoever decided to bring these back into fashion was a genius. I have my phone, money and keys in there and I won’t have to worry about losing my clutch or whatever the whole time” Ino’s gratefulness to the fanny-pack-Gods has been something she expressed whenever she went out in the past year.
Hinata went to the fridge and put the remaining half of the sub before kissing Ino’s cheek and dragging herself up the stairs. Before sleeping she decided to take a bath and relax. The tub filled slowly with hot water and she even decided to use one of her citrus bath bombs and some lemon oils. Before stepping into the water, she went to fetch her phone and played some music in the background. The moment she was fully undressed and in the water her muscles started to relax. Her brain started to wander; how she wished Sasuke was there, he would be able to distract so easily. Her body was indeed starting to loosen up but her brain was still overthinking everything about the exam from her actual answers, to how she wrote, wondering if the teacher could even read her scribbles at all especially since she rushed so much. She wrote her name right…?
Shushing her thoughts, she started to wash her body and hair slowly but even as she was rinsing her hair for the second time her brain was still spinning in circles. The bath didn’t seem to help so she got out of it much faster than she wanted. Dressing in her most comfortable pj which were a pair of loose shorts and one of Sasuke’s t-shirts she went to bed after drying her hair for a while; it was still damp but she was too tired to care. She almost wanted to force herself to cry a little because she always felt better after crying but no tears came so she did the next best thing, closed her eyes and thought of Sasuke; of his soft hair under her fingertips, his beautiful eyes when he looked at her, his soft lips as they traced her neck. She fell asleep with Sasuke on her mind and her mind gripped onto that thought and continued it into her dream.
In her dream they were having a panic, they just finished eating and were laying down on the blanket looking at the sky, pointing at clouds and saying what they looked like. She was just pointing to a cat folding origami when Sasuke pulled her closer and started kissing her neck. He breathed her in and hugged her close.
“I missed you so much” Her brain was still half-asleep but she was certain that the voice was real, as were the arms that were holding her close. Hinata opened her eyes wide only to see Sasuke looking down at her; he was still in his uniform. The moment their eyes met she started crying and pulling him as close as she could; her arms were around his neck her legs around his waist; if she could she would live in his embrace.
“I missed you too” she said still crying. She hadn’t seen him in about 4 days, he had been really busy and couldn’t skype; but she hadn’t touched him in over 7 months. Sasuke was a solder in the army and had been deployed for almost 2 years now. He returned for a few weeks when he had been injured 7 months ago but that hadn’t been nearly enough time together.
“How long are you back for?” His deployment only ended in another 3 months as far as Hinata knew. “Oh my God are you hurt again?” She asked and pulled away from him softly and looked at him as he was lying on her bed, he seemed fine.
“I’m not hurt” He told her with a smile and ran his hand over her upper arm. “Things worked faster than then we thought and most of us were sent home. Only a couple people higher in rank had to stay till the end.”
Hinata looked at him for a second. “So…you’re home…for good?” Her voice was trembling.
“Yes. At least until the next deployment which shouldn’t be very soon” His smile was blinding. Her tears were pouring again. Sasuke was on his back on the bed and she crawled on top of him; almost instantly his arms curled around her. They stood there embracing for a really long time. Sasuke was really tired after his journey and Hinata just wanted to hold him close and make sure he was real.
“I’m going to take a shower and change ok?” He asked, his voice was lower and he sounded sleepy. Hinata got up from him and allowed him to go to the bathroom. While he was showering, she went downstairs to the kitchen, she was sure Sasuke was hungry and the only food they had was her half sub which was nearly not enough for both of them. So, she put some water and rice to cook and, in another pan, fried some chicken breasts. The chicken was done quite fast and the rice was still being cooked so she decided to make a sauce; she cut some tomatoes, onions, peppers and carrots and put them into a pan with some salt, garlic, tomatoes sauce and soy sauce. As she was stirring softly two strong arms came from behind and hugged her.
Neither of them said anything; it was common for Hinata to cook while Sasuke was embracing her softly, his head on her shoulder. The rice was cooked so she stopped that burner but the sauce needed a bit more time which was fine since the rice needed to cool off and steam for another 5-10 minutes to be fluffy. The veggie sauce was done too and she turned off the last burner and took a step back into Sasuke. He took one as well and loosened his embrace just enough so she had space to turn around and hug him back.
“Welcome back; I just realized I didn’t even say that” Hinata said as she ran her hands thought his hair, it was longer than last time he was home but just as soft.
“I’m home” He whispered into her neck and kissed the skin just above her collar bone. They didn’t mover for a couple minutes before Sasuke’s stomach started making sounds.
“I think you’re hungry” Hinata said amused. It was amazing how Sasuke made everything better in her world, the exam and her bad mood felt like they had happened ages ago. All she could remember, all that mattered were Sasuke’s hugs. Hinata filled two cups with water while Sasuke fixed 2 plates for them to eat.
“You finished your exams, today right?” Sasuke asked between chewing.
Hinata nodded “Yes, it’s finally over”
“We should celebrate this weekend, you finished University” Sasuke was 3 years older than her; but she was also almost 2 years older than most of her peers; instead of going to Uni right after high school Hinata had to stay back due to some family issues. Sasuke did more courses than normal people for 3 semesters so instead of 4 years he finished University in 2 after which he went directly into the army. Hinata’s dad was also in the army and that’s how they met; during the first event Sasuke attended. They started dating about 2 months after; Hinata was a senior in high school and Sasuke had just joined. (They were 19 and 22 at the time; now they are 25 and 28)
“Of course, we’re celebrating, you’re home” The house was Hinata’s and Sasuke’s but during the 4 years of University Ino rented their guestroom but the blonde packed most of her things and sent them back to her home with a moving truck. She was to leave Wednesday next week.
They ate and talked some more about Hinata’s future plans to teach middle-school English, about Sasuke’s deployment which went really well, besides a few injures, nothing major happened. After they finished eating Sasuke went to wash the dished. Just like he did when she was cooking Hinata hugged him from behind while he was working.
He was finally home; whenever he was gone Hinata always was a bit on the edge but with him close everything was as it should be. “I love you” she said and kissed his shoulder.
“I love you too” Sasuke said and turned around and in a few quick moves picked her up and put her on the counter. He walked between her legs and held her close and kissed her slow and steady. He had missed her so much, not only in a sexual way but in a physical and emotional way. He missed holding her while they slept, missed smelling her perfume everywhere around him, missed her voice and they way she held his hand whenever they were walking together even if it was in the supermarket. Her positivism and innocence also were things he craved. He missed everything that made her her.
He deepened the kiss and Hinata crossed her legs over his waist. He placed his hands under her butt and picked her up still not breaking the kiss. Sasuke knew the house well enough to navigate it while kissing her but Hinata broke the kiss when they reached the stairs and smiled at him.
“Let’s go to our room” She said still smiling beautifully at him. Every part of her body was touching his in their embrace and nothing had ever felt that perfect before.
“Yes, let’s go” He would sleep with her in his arms today; of course, after ravishing some of her innocence.
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