#and being halfway across the country seems like a pretty good reason to not lol

[orcelito]

I have... my boarding pass....

And I still have to do the tips distribution tomorrow morning 😫😫😫😫😫

[yulmoldauer]

its better not to say such things out loud (Tyson Jost/OC): Chapter One

part 2

Story summary: Mason Wright was recently traded and because an Av. Sometimes a fresh start with a new team across the country is what a guy needs, right? It seems to work out, going to a place where no one truly knows you. That is, until someone finds out what you’re desperately trying to hide.

Chapter 1

Summary: Mason’s had a rough game, to put it simply. It was never the best idea to get into a fight with someone bigger than you. They won even with him taking a five-minute major for fighting halfway through the third period. The team goes out to celebrate his 23rd birthday post-win and Tyson takes care of getting him home and to sleep safely.

Warnings: None, I believe! Just some drinking mentioned and there’s a drunk character if that makes you uncomfortable. There’s also a slur against lgbt people used.

Words: 1,968

Notes: The title is from The Stigma (Boys Don’t Cry) by As It Is. This is the thing with the LGBT main character that I’ve had a few different people tell me they’d be interested in :) I’m having a lot of fun writing and plotting this so far, so let me know if you enjoy!

There were perks to being smaller than most other people in the league. Being an extremely fast and skilled defenseman was one of them.

Being outmatched in every possible articulation, being compared to a chihuahua yapping at a pitbull, everything like that. Which is how he ended up in the penalty box for five fucking minutes, the asshole in the box next to him chirping him the entire time, it seemed like.

“What are you, a fag?”

That was what Mason heard fly by him, aimed at Jost who wouldn’t get into a fight to draw a penalty. Mason knew for a fact that’s what the guy was trying to do. He still took the bait when Tyson didn’t.

Mason was smaller than nearly every player he knew. Watching him get into a fight was exciting yet painful at the same time for anyone with a brain. The other guy was at least six-foot compared to the five-foot-eight Mason. To say it was outmatched…

Mason was going to be lucky if he didn’t come out of this with some scrapes and bruises. A broken nose was pretty likely as well, once he thought about it.

But hearing that word ignited something in him that overtook the reasoning section of his brain and both of them were dropping gloves. Sure, he’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow, but he’d gotten a few good licks in as well.

They still won the game, which was nice.

“Dude, you gotta at least get into it with guys in your weight class.”

“You’re funny, Landeskog. Whole fucking league is out of my weight class,” Mason huffed as he stripped his padding off of his lean torso.

“Yeah, kinda the point,” Zadorov shrugged. “Not your fault you’re smaller, just the way it is.”

“I get it, I’m short,” he ran a hand through his wavy helmet hair and reached down to unlace his skates. “Z, you can fight for me, then. I’ll run my mouth and you can do all the hitting.”

“With you? Don’t take it, man, Wright can go on and on for hours,” Tyson chirped from across the room. That earned him a glove chucked at his face.

“Fuck y’all. I don’t even have a good comeback.”

“Because it’s true!”

Okay, maybe it was true. Mason was just a talker, it’s how it was.

Tyson gave him endless shit about it, but really he didn’t mind. He actually enjoyed just being able to turn his brain off and absorb whatever stuck from what Mason was going on about. Usually it didn’t even matter--ranting about how a show got robbed of some award that doesn’t even matter, spewing information about whatever book he was reading, going off about whatever asshole did something stupid during his day-- Tyson would just let him go until he ran out of steam. Conversations were nice, too, when he was in just a talkative mood as well.

Mason did know how to shut up, though. Sometimes. (Hint: that’s what made him the favorite out of the Wright/Zadorov best friend duo. He could be quieter than Z. They’ve threatened to separate the two on multiple occasions, though.)

“What’d that guy even do to rile you up? You looked pissed,” Nate broke Mason out of his train of thought.

“Just called someone something stupid. I’m not gonna repeat it.”

“He called me a fag because I wouldn’t take the bait for the penalty,” Tyson said soon after. “He’s just a fucking moron because he got a longer penalty than any of us.”

There was an uncomfortable moment as that sunk in, then a few “what the fuck” or “that’s gross” phrases before people moved on to heading to the showers.

Mason was about to sneak away when Tyson called out his name.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you hit the shower. You got a second?”

“Yeah, sure. I just have to do some pt kind of stuff before I shower. What’s up?” he offered with a friendly smile.

“I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. You definitely didn’t have to, but calling him on it drew a ton of attention to it. I think it’s really important to start weeding that shit out of the sport, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Mason smiled. “I--thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

“‘Course,” Tyson gave a nod. “And you know if you were, like… y’know, gay or… anything, really, I wouldn’t care. And neither would anyone else on the team. It’d totally be okay.”

Mason wanted to give him a reassuring “I know” but couldn’t. Hockey was definitely not the environment known for welcoming lgbt kids and turning them into well-adjusted, accepted adults.

“Thanks,” Mason murmured. “Really, that means a lot.”

“Of course,” Tyson breathed, like he was getting a huge weight off his chest. “Um, yeah. I’ll let you go do your physical therapy stuff now. I’ll see you at the bar after everything’s done here?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna ditch you for my birthday, idiot.”

With an excited smile, Tyson turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Once he reached an area to chill out while waiting for the showers to clear out, Mason sighed, plopping into a chair and resting his head in his hands.

Obviously he knew why Tyson brought up starting to call out homophobia and other bigoted shit they were all used to just overlooking. But why did he bring up the whole ‘we’d accept you no matter what’ thing?

The thought of ‘he was very sensitive to a slur so maybe he’s gay’ never crossed Mason’s mind. That would simply be too easy and rational.

Did Tyson know he was different? What exactly did Tyson know? There was no way Tyson would out him, but still. Trusting people to keep a secret was hard. It was just easier to bottle everything up.

God, he needed to figure this out.

Maybe he’d get drunk enough tonight to just forget for a little while. He didn’t get drunk or even drink all that often, he could let go every now and then.

At the beginning of the night, Gabe took his keys, promising that he’d give them to whoever would be driving Mason home. They all knew for a fact Mason wouldn’t drive drunk, it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Honestly, they were more worried about the newly twenty-three-year-old losing them or putting them somewhere so he’d ‘remember where they are later’, which was proven ineffective at the last gathering Gabe threw.

“If you can’t figure out where the stupid keys are, he can come get them in the morning or I can drop them off to him or something,” Gabe rolled his eyes.

“You’re sure you don’t remember where you put them?” JT triple-checked. He’d been the designated driver for a few of them, including Mason, Tyson, and a couple others who had already gotten out to the car.

Mason shook his head. “I’m not even that drunk,” he insisted.

“Uh-huh. Gabe, just let me know if you find ‘em and we can work something out for him in the morning.”

Twenty minutes later, Gabe sent a picture and “anyone know who these belong to?” in the group chat. It was, without a doubt, Mason’s keys, adorned with a keychain reading “DETROIT” in graffiti lettering. He was from Detroit, and everyone knew that he refused to take that keychain off until it literally fell off for some sentimental reason, most likely.

‘Lol where’d you find it?’ someone texted back.

‘My dishwasher. His wallet was there too’

Mason has still never heard the end of that. No matter how hard he tried to explain that when he put them somewhere, it meant that he wouldn’t lose them or buy something stupid online (last time that happened, he bought a thing to hang on a window so your cat could sit on it and sunbathe. Mason has not owned a cat at any point in his life.) and he’d remember where it was once he sobered up.

Of course he still gets relentless shit for it. He wouldn’t expect any different.

Currently, Mason and Z were arm wrestling over a table in the back of the bar, people beginning to call it quits and going home. And with his pride hurt that he could not beat Z in an arm wrestling match, Tyson stole the other’s keys and wallet from Gabe, saying goodbyes and forcing Mason to as well.

“You are blasted, man.”

“Mmph,” he shrugged and laid his head against the passenger window. “I wanna lay down and sleep.”

“You can when I get you home. Gimmie your seatbelt so I can buckle you in.”

Mason followed the order with a small pout, not drunk enough to the point of incoherence but… definitely a little fucked up. Tyson had done this before: dealing with the mopey friend at the end of the night. Mason was definitely one to get mopey or clingy once they left the main event.

“My face hurts.”

“That checks out, buddy. I’ll get you some ice for it back at your place. What?” Tyson continued to ask when Mason stared out the windshield all angsty.

“Still can’t believe I couldn’t beat Z.”

“That guy could slam most of us through a table, don’t beat yourself up.”

“Can’t. Someone already did.”

“You’re full of jokes, huh?”

Mason just grinned sleepily as they pulled into the apartment complex and Tyson had an arm wrapped around his friend to keep him steady. Getting a drunk person to go to bed was usually one of the hardest parts of the night.

“Would you just--”

“I got it,” Mason huffed, fumbling with his keys near the lock of the door.

“Dude.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up my neighbors,” he grumbled, finally getting the door open with a triumphant “see? I’m an adult.”

“I see. Go be an adult and get ready to go to bed,” Tyson rolled his eyes, taking the keys out of the door and locking it behind them.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” he replied quickly.

“You’re drunk, what do you mean you don’t want to sleep?”

“Not tired,” he flopped down on the couch.

“At least get out of your clothes. That way if you fall asleep it’s in pajamas.”

Mason was sprawled out, already clicking through Netflix.

“Fine, I will go get you pajamas. Here,” Tyson pressed a cold compress to a bruise on his face and headed to the bedroom.

“Thanks for driving me,” he heard from the other room.

“‘Course,” Tyson called back. “Here, put these on,” he tossed the clothes at Mason.

“Are you staying here? You can take the guest room, if you want.”

“Sure. Probably easier than trying to get home this late,” Tyson shrugged and headed for the kitchen. As he heard the rustling around of what he assumed was his friend changing, Tyson got a glass of water and painkillers for when Mason woke up.

“I can drive you home tomorrow,” Mason slurred even more heavily as he began getting more tired. He’d managed to get his jeans off and a pair of shorts on before moving onto the shirt. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Tyson walked back in the room with the water.

“Woah,” he said quietly, stopping quickly.

For whatever reason, he’d never realized that he had never seen his teammate and friend shirtless. That was weird, especially when you played sports together for a living. He assumed it was due to the faded scars along his chest, almost in a u-shape under each pec.

He didn’t even know what kind of injury would cause that kind of surgery.

“When did you get surgery?”

Fuck was all that ran through Mason’s head.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Special Delivery 2

So a while ago I posted a fic prompted by @sirbeepsalot​ asking what I’d do if I met my crush in RL. Here’s the link  I wanted to carry it on, and here’s the next instalment. I take Fabio out on a walk in the English Lake District after we meet when he delivers pizza to my door. It’s pure fluff and total fantasy. Please note that here ‘I’ am considerably younger than in reality, and single. I also seem to have no realistic means of financial support, but hey, this is fantasy.

Word Count 3k plus (too much editing lol)

No warnings. Please note this is written entirely in British English, so here are translations for those across the Pond though I’m sure you already know them; flat/apartment, Autumn/Fall, boot/trunk wellingtons/galoshes or rubber boots, digs/accommodation (see flat) rucksack/backpack, motorway/freeway, crisps/chips, cords/corduroy pants. I hope it doesn’t spoil your enjoyment.

The location we go to is real, and somewhere I have photos of the slate towers I mention, which I will post if I find them. 

 Pairing - me myself and Fabio Zuno...

Chapter 2  A Walk on the Wild Side?

The day after I had met the devastatingly handsome Argentinian model Fabio Zuno – delivering pizza, of all things - he had unbelievably rung me back as promised and we had arranged to drive into the Lake District, as he wasn’t working. I had to keep pinching myself after he’d rung off. To settle the butterflies in my stomach I made a picnic lunch and got out my walking boots and waterproof coat, though it wasn’t due to rain. It was a sunny day, warm for late autumn, and it had been cool and still, so a little colour was left on the trees. It was strange to think that in Fabio’s home country of Argentina the weather was ramping up for summertime. I had chosen an easy hill to climb where we would get a good view over the fells and lakes.

I had to pick him up from his digs, as the scooter he’d used to deliver pizza the night before was in service and one of his workmates was using it. The door that lead to the flats just round the corner from the takeaway had several different bell pushes on it, but looking up from my car as I parked and got out, I saw him waving from a window on the second floor. He gestured that he was on his way down, and I waited nervously. He wore cords and sturdy looking boots,a long sleeved shirt and carried a padded jacket. He stepped close to touch my shoulder, kissing me on the cheek. I steeled myself not to swoon, and my face burned where his lips had touched it.

‘Hola, Lisa.’ he grinned. ‘We go for a drive, yes? I like to see your beautiful English countryside.’ I nodded, and pointed at his boots.

‘They look good for walking, but I’ve got some wellingtons if the path is muddy’ He looked puzzled, and I opened the boot of the car to show him ‘Rubber boots’ I explained.

‘Ah!’ he nodded ‘Te entiendo – I understand. How big are they?’ he gestured to his feet. Being tall, he must have large feet, I thought – and stopped my musings on size right there.

‘Oh, they belonged to my father – he was tall like you, so I’m sure they’ll fit’ I smiled. He nodded. He had a rucksack and put it next to the boots, and got into the car while I walked around to the driver’s side. I waited while he strapped himself in.

‘This is very good of you, Lisa.’ he said as I started the engine ‘but you must do something for me.’ My heart did a little jump and I wondered if I was safe to drive with him sitting next to me, and what he was about to ask. He smelled fantastic – the woodsy aroma I had detected the previous night when he stayed to help me eat the pizza he had delivered at the end of his shift.

‘Oh, what’s that? I asked, fiddling with the air conditioning.

‘My English – one of the reasons I came here was to make it better. You must correct me if I’m wrong, yes?’ I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Of course. You might want to say ‘please.’ You know we English are very polite. So ‘Please can you correct my English.’’ I replied, and clutched the steering wheel and took a steadying breath before I checked my mirror and pulled out onto the street. I was sitting in my car next to the devastatingly handsome Fabio Zuno. It was surreal – but it was true. I concentrated on driving until we were on the road that lead into the hills. I had decided not to take the motorway, instead opting for the smaller roads that lead up and over the fells and down into the nearest lake valley. It was slower and prettier and would show Fabricio the area at its best.

‘The Lakes are very popular this time of year, but some of the smaller hills are just as beautiful as the more well known places.’ I explained.

‘It is beautiful. Do you come out here often?’ I suppressed a giggle, and cast a sideways glance at him as we turned off onto a side road. He looked puzzled.

‘I’m sorry to laugh – that’s a popular pick up line – you know when you like someone and you want to get to know them better – you say ‘Do you come here often?’’

‘Oh!’ He laughed ‘But I do want to know you better’ I smiled and shook my head disbelievingly.

‘It’s the sort of thing you’d say in a bar or a nightclub.’ I explained, and he sighed.

‘You English, you are strange. I like you, I hope you like me too – and why should you not believe me?’ I shrugged.

‘It’s just the way we are, I suppose.’ I replied. I decided not to go down the ‘I’m not pretty’ road, it was too predictable. I resolved to take him at face value and see what happened. We carried on, I indicated various landmarks and he asked questions – and we fell into a comfortable exchange as we went higher up. I stopped at the top of the first hill where it widened out into moorland, and pointed out the hills ahead, telling him their names and where we were going. He got out his phone to take photographs, and then we went on.

Less than an hour later we pulled into a car park close to a favourite hill of mine, Castle Crag. It was a small rocky hill sporting a slate mine halfway up, and to get there we had to walk through a picturesque village. Many of the houses were built and roofed with the local slate, as grey as a wet winter day, and others were rendered and painted white or a pastel colour.

The gardens were neat and lush with splashes of colour from flowering bushes and bedding plants. As many tourists visited the area, the locals took pride in making their properties look presentable. The climate was classed as temperate rainforest, and the little valleys had high rainfall levels. In winter it was wet and windy, and all year round the weather could change rapidly. The in joke was that you could see all four seasons in one day. The higher hills often had snowy peaks in the winter, but since I had moved to the area, that was only periodic. It didn’t settle for longer than a few days.

At the top of the steep little hill we were making for there were spectacular views along the valley leading to one of the lakes. It wasn’t too high and would only take an hour of steady walking to the top, where I planned for us to eat the picnic I’d prepared.

‘Those boots are good.’ I remarked ‘You really need that sort of footwear for the hills here.I don’t think we’ll need the wellies for the hill.’

‘I have travelled to many places.’ he replied ‘Sometimes I walk in the hills. This place is a little like the Andes – but smaller.’ He rummaged in his bag and got out a woolly hat, pulling it over his glossy black hair. I hoisted my rucksack out of the car and he gestured toward it in query.

‘Food for when we get to the top.’ I explained.

‘It is heavy?’ he asked.

‘You should say ‘is it heavy?’ I explained ‘it will be lighter coming down.’

‘Ah, thankyou. Let me carry some things’ he offered, so we went through the contents and split the boxes and bottles. I got a walking pole out as well, and he looked sceptical.

‘It’s steep.’ I explained. ‘It’s safer, I don’t want to fall.’ He shrugged.

‘I will be fine.’ he said, and his eyes crinkled up as he grinned ‘I’m a model, I know how to walk’ and he laughed at his own joke. I tutted but couldn’t help giggling, and shut the car boot, pressing the remote key to lock it.

‘Come on.’ I said ‘Lunch at the top.’ We set off through the village and made our way to a footpath that skirted a stream. Sheep grazed nearby, and I pointed them out.

‘Those are Herdwick sheep.’ I explained ‘They’re native to the Lakes, and I think they’re cute. There are other mountain sheep that come from Wales, they aren’t as pretty.’

‘So the Herdwicks are models?’ he laughed, and I shook my head.

‘No more model jokes.’ I scolded, and he pouted before shrugging apologetically and flashing me his dazzling white toothed smile, making my knees go to jelly - again. I was glad of the walking pole for support, and pulled myself together. We carried on along the path toward the hill, getting into a steady rhythm until we reached a stile that went over a dry stone wall. The path got steeper and our pace slowed. We talked less as our breathing quickened, and I was glad of the walking pole. We stopped from time to time to catch our breath and look at the view as we climbed.

The path changed from a grassy slope to a narrow stony trail as it got steeper, until we came to the slate. Here thin slabs of the dark grey stone were built into walls on the steep hillside, and flakes littered the way, making it slippy as they slid across each other. Fabricio went ahead, holding onto the side from time to time as we started to scramble up higher. Our pace slowed to a crawl until at last we reached a plateau where the slate had been quarried decades ago. I was breathing a little harder than he was and stopped to get my breath. He waited, sitting on a slab of rock. Finally I waved to where the path diverged, one going upwards and the other staying on the small plateau.

‘This is worth a look.’ I explained. ‘This is where they quarried slate, and there’s lots of it still lying around.’

‘Okay.’ he smiled, and we walked along around a corner, where the open quarry came into view. It was not only littered with slabs of slate of all sizes, but walkers who had lingered had piled them up into heaps and towers. Fabio exclaimed with surprise and wonder at the sight. The summit of hills in the Lakes - like many other places - were marked by a pile of rocks, locally called a cairn, but here folk had given vent to their artistic nature, and some structures were cleverly balanced. The whole place took on a surreal atmosphere, amplified by the cawing of a lone crow which flew off as we took a few step in to the quarry.

‘Asombroso – amazing.’ He exclaimed, and we wondered around the impromptu sculptures. ‘People are paid for this?’ he questioned, and I shook my head.

‘No, folk just do it for fun. We could make something if you like.’ He considered his options for a moment.

‘Later, we eat first.’

‘Then we should go back to the path and eat at the top.’ I suggested, and we turned back and carried on up the side of the hill. It was only a couple of minutes to the flat top, a wide grassy area scattered with a few hardy trees and a big rounded outcrop of pale grey stone. The breeze was cool and the sun was reluctant to stay out due to the patchy white clouds. They drifted across the sky lazily casting their shadows across the hillside as they passed. On three sides there were higher hills, and the village we had started from was hidden. On the fourth side we looked down the valley toward one of the lakes, sparkling in the sunshine in the distance. Sheep were dotted around the fields and slopes, and hardy windswept trees straggled over the landscape. Low stone walls divided the land into fields and looped up and over the fellsides. 

A family with two children nodded as they quit their vantage point at the very top of the rock, and we greeted them as we took their place. I took a deep breath of  fresh air, the breeze buffeting my cheeks, hair tucked under a woolly hat similar to Fabio’s.

‘La vista es marvillosa. Marvelous.’

‘It is.’ I said proudly. ‘How does it compare to the Andes?’

‘As I said – smaller – much smaller. But beautiful.’ He replied, and turned to face me. He took each of my hands in his and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. ‘Gracias.’ he said as I blushed furiously. ‘I never would have seen this without you. You are very kind.’

‘And you are…’ you are Fabio Zuno and I cannot believe I’m here with you I thought before continuing ‘I’m pleased to show you. You’re welcome.’ I took off my rucksack and started to look for a sheltered spot for our lunch. We sat on the grass with our backs against the sun warmed rock and took out the boxes we had brought.

‘It’s nothing special.’ I said ‘Bread and cheese and crisps – cherry tomatoes, fruit, dates and flapjack.’

‘Simple is good.’ he said, taking a bread roll filled with strong cheddar. I took one and opened the bag of crisps, opening the bun and adding a layer of crisps. He looked at me curiously and then copied me, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth as he did so. He pointed at the pieces of flapjack I had added. ‘You made these too?’ he asked.

‘Mmm, yes.’ I finished my mouthful ‘Oats, butter and sugar with a bit of dried fruit. Very healthy.’

‘Hah. I have to be so careful what I eat when I’m getting ready for a photo shoot – go to the gym, train, get my muscles strong’ he flexed his bicep for me. I goggled, remembering the photos I had seen of his abs. He patted his stomach. ‘This is soft right now, but a few workouts and it will be flat.’ I found myself feeling a little hot, and struggled out of my coat before I carried on eating. Fabricio didn’t seem to notice, drinking in the landscape, a faint smile on his face.

‘Fantastica.’ he breathed, closing his eyes in bliss. ‘I have missed the fresh air, living in the city.’

‘It’s not such a big city.’ I replied, thinking of the terrace where his flat was located. Few buildings in the town were over four stories, and the town only held the title of city by the fact that it had an ancient cathedral within its boundaries. He laughed.

‘Yes, Buenos Aires is a real city, very crowded. There are trees on the street where I live here, but still it is small and people are close together.’ I felt a little guilty, as I was in the process of moving to a detached house just outside the city which had formally belonged to my parents, who had recently passed away. I had decided to rent out my little terraced house in order to pay off the mortgage. It was much smaller than the one where Fabio stayed, but I was the only person living there. My new residence was next to a road that was not too busy although the traffic was fast, and it sat in the midst of a large garden with mature trees.

We ate in silence and when I had finished I hugged my knees, gazing at the clouds floating high above us. Fabio stretched out on the grass beside me on his back and stared up at the sky, sighing happily.

‘How long are you staying?’ I asked.

‘Oh, I cannot stay for more than six months. I’ve been here for one’

‘I’m still curious how you ended up here. Why not London or Edinburgh?’ He rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows.

‘I put a pin in a map.’ he grinned. I stared at him.

‘Really?’ I asked, and he nodded.

‘Really’ he replied ‘I believe in fate. I was meant to come here – perhaps I was meant to meet you.’ I felt my cheeks grow hot again.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’ I replied

‘Fate doesn’t.’ he said. He came up to sitting again ‘We should go and build something in the quarry. I will put it on Instagram.’ I laughed.

‘It’ll be seen by a lot more people than on my account.’ I pointed out. ‘Particularly if you’re in it. Before you know it, folk will be coming here by the bus load’ He tapped the side of his nose and winked,

‘You can be my photographer. We keep the location a secret.’

‘Let’s go then.’ I suggested, and we packed our things away to walk back down to the quarry. It was deserted, save for a few small birds that flitted around looking for insects. It was sheltered and warm, and we put our rucksacks down before clambering around selecting rocks and building towers. Fabio made it into a race until his came tumbling down, narrowly missing him. After that we worked more slowly and tested our creations for stability. When we were happy with what we had made, we took photos of each other next to them, and he snapped a few more pictures of the location.

‘Come, let’s take one together.’ he suggested.

‘Only if you don’t put it on Instagram. I might get hate mail.’ He scoffed at my fears.

‘Only from stupid people.’ he replied. ‘I would block anyone so rude. But if you don’t want, that’s okay. I will keep it for myself.’ I smiled -  he was so sweet and protective. It was real fun being with him, but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere, so I would just enjoy it while I could. In time – weeks or months – he would be off on a photo shoot or back home in Argentina, and I would be left with happy memories. I could live with that, I decided.

‘Here, I brought this.’ he said as we went back to our bags. He rummaged round and produced a chocolate bar.

‘Are you sure you should be eating that?’ I joked, pointing to his stomach ‘your next photographer might not be as pleased with a soft belly’

‘I walk it off.’ he grinned. ‘No problemo.’ We sat and shared it, looking at our creations adding to the strange aura of the quarry. We packed up, and set off back, taking a slightly longer route so that we walked completely round the little hill before looping back to the village. We chatted about places Fabio had been and where he wanted to go, and I told him about my housing situation.

‘I’ll be packing up boxes tomorrow. I’m moving to my parent’s old house, it’s bigger and has a garden.’ We had reached the car and were putting our things back in the boot.

‘Oh, is it far?’

‘Just ten minutes drive, outside town. The removal men come at the end of the week’

‘You don’t have anyone to help?’ he asked. I shrugged.

‘I thought it would be faster if I paid professionals. But it will take some time packing things away – books and clothes and so on. I can move those, but furniture is harder.’ We got into the car ready to drive back.

‘Let me help. You are kind and show me this beautiful place.’

‘Oh, but you must be busy working.’ I said as we set off.

‘I work in the evenings and go to bed late. I can come in the middle of the day if you like.’

‘That’s very – umm yes, thankyou’ I said. I felt hot again, and a little light headed at the though of spending more time with him. It was late afternoon when we got back to town and I stopped at my little terraced house to show him where it was so he could come over the next day.

‘I’m sorry, I’d invite you in for a drink or something to eat, but I’m tired.’ I explained

‘We can order food.’ he said persuasively. ‘and I can walk back to my home from here’ I stared at him, not sure if I was terrified or delighted at the prospect. ‘It’s alright’ he said soothingly ‘I pay for dinner, and I promise I’ll go home after. I won’t touch you’ He smiled ‘maybe a kiss on the cheek? Like a brother’ I looked back at him sceptically

‘Like a brother?’ He nodded, making a cross on his chest and holding his hand over his heart. The truth was, I was so tired I didn’t want to drive him home, and the thought of just sitting quietly with a cup of tea was tempting. I drew a breath and let it go slowly ‘Okay.’

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I thought to myself.

[motherlifesucher-archives]

Overcomplicated l Shawn Mendes Imagine.

(a/n): heyyyy! this is kinda based on the song “Why”. It was supposed to be posted earlier but here was a 6,6 mini earthquake on my country lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

summary: The more famous they became, the hardest it turned for Shawn &(Y/N) to confess their feelings, but the Grammys might the the push they needed.

The first thing Shawn did to celebrate his Grammy nominations was to dial one of his closest friends, (Y/N), who had also scored three nominations, and they were both nominated for Best Pop Vocal Album with their self-titled albums, and Song of The Year. 

They freaked out over the phone, even if they were across the world. They wanted nothing more than to just hug each other and have a Grey’s Anatomy marathon to celebrate. 

He then called Camila, who teased him saying both of her friends’ being nominated on the same category should be a sign that he should find the guts to ask (Y/N) out.

He laughed at his friend before hanging up and trying to understand what the fuck was going on.

Soon enough his phone couldn’t stop vibrating from people congratulating him. Family, friends, people on the industry. He even scored a call from both James Corden and Ellen DeGeneres. 

Geoff teased his friend saying he should ask (Y/N) out before the ceremony, just in case he won and she didn’t want to see him again. They both laughed knowing she’d never do that, but it seemed like his friends were running out of ideas to make him ask her out on a date, but nothing seemed to work out.

He remembered the chills that ran down his spine when he saw her presenting in the Golden Globes next to Timothée Chalamet. She looked gorgeous. He always found it hard to keep his attention on the stage when she was next to him, and the Grammys wouldn’t be the exception. 

Should he ask Andrew to call the awards production and ask to not be seated next to her? 

No, of course it would find its way to the public and she’d be hurt. Besides, Camila had already texted him saying the three would be sitting pretty close with Taylor Swift. 

Hell, even Taylor Swift had tried to play matchmaker while she was visiting her on tour and he got to perform!

There was a part of him aching to see what her lips would feel against his. How disheveled her hair would look right after waking up in the morning. To be the inspiration behind her songs. To be the reason why her eyes shone so bright and her smile grew bigger just because she saw him.

He knew she already was his inspiration. The impotence of seeing her and not being able to declare his love was driving him crazy, and he knew the only one who could fix that was himself, but there was too much at stake.

Their friendship was precious; they understood each other in a way not many people could, and it wasn't because they both were in the public eye, but because they understood each other on a cellular level. It was like they were the same person and he knew there was a bright future for them.

He just needed to grow some balls and do the right thing. 

Everyone around him said she felt the same way, but Shawn only dismissed them with a sigh smile while shaking his head in denial. They were only doing it so that he could grow the confidence to do what his heart desired so deeply. 

He couldn’t help but torture himself with other possible scenarios. What if he had never dated Hailey and instead he had asked her out? At that point his feelings for (Y/N) were clear, yet he still went out with the model.

What if he had asked her out the moment he saw her for the first time almost six years ago?

Was he overcomplicating things? Probably. 

-

Nerves were taking over his body as he got out of the limo, only to be bombarded with flashes and screams of his name.

He politely waved before posing and paying attention to a girl with a clipboard giving him instructions. 

He then was walked to the red carpet, patiently waiting for his turn while greeting people. He started making conversation with Niall before the entire room lit up in front of him.

There she was.

Wearing the most gorgeous gown he had ever seen. Was it because she was the one wearing it? Probably. 

He noticed the way her smile grew ten times bigger when she saw him, and even with her uncomfortable dress she made her way towards him and hugged him.

“It’s so good to see you!” She tightened the embrace before letting go of him. 

“You look beautiful,” He said and noticed Niall hiding his smirk from the side. 

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” She smiled before quickly greeting Niall who was being ushered to the red carpet. 

“So, I heard we are sitting next to each other,” She said excitedly. 

“And next to Camila and Taylor. It’s gonna be awkward when one of us wins” He chuckled and she softly hit his arm.

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m honestly not expecting to win, are you?”

“You gotta have some confidence in yourself, babe,” He said and she felt the color rush to her cheeks.

They knew that even in the small tent where they waiting, people were snapping pictures of both of them. Shawn wanted to add something when a woman in a black dress with a sign with his name interrupted, saying it was time to walk down the carpet.

“Meet me in the carpet?” He asked and she smiled.

“You can count on it, rockstar,”

it was his time to blush at her words before following the woman, and soon enough he was met with tons of flashes and people telling him to give them smiles and posing in different angles. 

He soon moved down the carpet and saw the same woman appear with a sign with her name. 

He felt his attention shift from the photographers to her, as she cautiously stepped on the red carpet and started posing like she was born to do it. 

She noticed him and sent a wink and a smile before she continued with her work. Soon enough people started screaming both their names and she carefully walked to him.

He took a couple of steps to meet her halfway and offer her a hand, making everyone go crazy. She giggled before placing her hand on his shoulder as he put his on her waist. They continued posing for a couple of minutes before they went back to solo pictures. 

The moment they were out of that part of the carpet they laughed and took a breath, now they were being pushed to different interviews and people asking for pictures. The scene was very crowded, but they were approached by an E! News producer who said they both were on the list of interviews and if they minded doing the interview together because time was running out.

They agreed and noticed Giuliana Rancic was waiting for them. Shawn again offered his hand and helped his friend with the steps while being careful to not step in her dress. 

“Well, see who we have here! Two of the biggest names in the music industry right now and multiple nominated artists tonight, Shawn Mendes and (Y/N)!” Giuliana introduced them and some people surrounding cheered while they greeted to the camera. 

“Thanks for having us,” Shawn replied with his charming smile. 

“You two look absolutely incredible. Ladies first, who are you wearing? Because I have to say that seeing you back in the Globes and tonight makes you climb to the top of the list of the best dressed during this awards season!”

“My God, you are so nice! Thank you so much! Well, tonight I'm wearing Christian Dior from head to toe,” She motioned her dress and shoes. 

“Well, you make this dress look ten times more beautiful, don’t you agree?” Giuliana asked Shawn.

“Absolutely, I think I’ve said she looks stunning like ten times since we arrived,” He said trying to play it cool, but his hands were sweating.

“Aren’t you a charmer!” Shawn smiled at the camera before Giuliana asked him which designer was responsible for his looks.

“Tonight I'm wearing Armani,” He subtly showed his watch to the camera, earning a laugh from his friend. 

“Is there any pressure or nervousness since you two are nominated on the same categories?” “I don’t think so,” (Y/N) answered. “We have been friends for a while now, even one of our best friends, Camila, is nominated tonight and I think we are just thrilled to be recognized amongst so many great artists,”

“Yeah, if you think about it we are still young and got many years to come, but the fact that I get to be here with my best friends celebrating our work is just magical,” Shawn completed her answered and smiled to the interviewer. 

“Great, you guys are spectacular! Thank you so much for joining us and good luck! Especially for Shawn since he’s performing tonight!”

They said goodbye and Shawn again helped his longtime crush out of the small stage.

“Is it time to go to our seats?” (Y/N) asked Shawn who shrugged. 

Only fifteen minutes were left when the same woman on the black dress told them it was time to head inside the venue. They waved to the photographers scattered around the red carpet for the last time before entering.

Their seats were on the first row, they could see people filling the seats and the biggest names on the industry greeting each other. 

They were reaching their seats when they spotted Camila and her boyfriend. 

“I was wondering where you guys were!” Camila said excitedly and hugging (Y/N) while Shawn shook hands with Camila’s boyfriend, Matthew. 

“It’s so crowded outside you can barely move,” (Y/N) said adjusting her dress before taking a seat. 

“When are you supposed to go backstage?” Camila asked Shawn.

“Uhm, I think I have to go during the first commercial break,” Shawn said and both Camila and (Y/N) clapped in excitement. “Please don’t embarrass me during the presentation,” Shawn teased them.

“Not a chance! We’re your biggest fans AND your best friends, of course we are going to embarrass you in front of the world!” (Y/N) said and hugged Shawn’s waist, completely ignored the look Camila gave Shawn. 

“You guys are so annoying,” Shawn wrapped his arm around (Y/N) and softly kissed the top of her hair. 

Camila almost squeaked in excitement. Why weren’t they together yet?!

-

Ariana Grande had beat both Camila and (Y/N) for the award of Best Pop Solo Performance, making them laugh and cheer loudly for the brunette in stage. 

The ceremony was coming to an end when the category where the three friends were nominated, the Best Pop Vocal Album category was up. Camila interlaced her fingers with her boyfriend when the camera was in front of her as her name got announced, closely followed by Shawn and (Y/N) that smiled at each other. 

“And the Grammy goes to,” Bruno Mars opened the envelope, “(Y/N)!” 

Everyone jumped from their seats except from the winner, who covered her mouth and slowly rose from her seat. 

Shawn engulfed her in a hug so tight while whispering congratulations on her ear. He almost let impulses get the best of him and kiss her lips, but he only kissed her cheek before letting her go. 

The entire audience cheered when Shawn helped her to the stage, carefully adjusting the back of her dress on the stairs before cheering for her. 

Her speech was shaky an emotional as she held her award. But the best part for Shawn was when he felt the camera next to his face, but nothing could erase the smile as she thanked him. 

“People say it’s hard to meet real people on this industry, but I just look here on the first row. Camila Cabello, Taylor Swift, and of course Shawn Mendes. Incredibly talented people who deserve to win just as much as I do. And a big support for me during this process has been this man standing here,” She pointed at Shawn. “Thank you for being my friend and guiding me through this process. I wouldn’t be the same without you and I love you, you are the best friend in the world,”

She continued mentioning her family, but Shawn knew there was something igniting inside of him and it was nothing like he had felt before. 

That something followed him the entire night. 

It was the courage to finally make his dreams come true and be with her. 

Love her. 

That was the reason why he didn’t let go of her during the entire night as they made appearances on the various after parties. 

They were getting drunker as the night passed by. He could feel her leaning on his shoulder, trying to find warmth since she had changed her dress into a short one and chills were covering her body. 

Her face was hidden on his neck during the majority of the night. They had lost their friends now as they stepped inside Post Malone’s after party. Paparazzi were having a field day as they walked inside with linked arms and she hiding her face and Shawn shielding her from their view. 

“Should we dance? I think we’ve had too much to drink,” She giggled and took his hand. 

Shawn smiled as she let another button on his shirt loose, exposing his chest. They were dancing, carefully trying no to bump into other people as they giggled in the dark room. 

He felt her face getting close, she even smiled at him as their noses bumped into each other, but he knew he didn’t want this to be dismissed as a drunken decision, so he delicately separated their faces and offered her a drink.

He missed the devastated look the drunk Grammy winner gave him. 

-

Two weeks had passed since the Grammy awards and Shawn was isolated in his room watching Just Jared instagram stories. 

People were confused, and to be honest, so was him. 

Multiple pictures of him and (Y/N) had resurfaced after heir drunken night. People were speculating whether or not they were officially dating, if they had started dating just now if if this had been going on for years.

But just two days after this, pictures of his girl and Timothée Chalamet appeared, making everyone, Shawn included, confused. 

He didn’t call her again. He ignored her texts. He didn’t even bother to check her Instagram.

And she noticed the lack of presence of a certain tall boy in her life. 

She was giving up on trying to reach him when he finally texted back.

“Sorry. I've been busy, you wanna talk about something? I’m leaving LA tomorrow.”

Her heart skipped a beat and told him to meet her at her house. He agreed and she started to patiently wait for him to arrive. Later, she saw his car on the camera, she tried to look her best as she opened the door as he parked his car next to hers. 

She smiled shyly, “Hi,” 

“Hey there,” Shawn gave her a quick hug.

They stepped inside and the first thing Shawn noticed was the Grammy standing proudly on top of her piano. 

“It looks nice,” Shawn pointed at the award. 

“Thanks,” She thanked quietly. “How have you been?”

“Good, you?” He asked her. 

“All good, thanks,”

They stared at each other quietly. Shawn was going to ask her what the hell was going on with the actor when she interrupted:

“Are you mad because I won?” She blurted, making Shawn’s eyes widen. 

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“You’ve been ignoring me. Is it because I won our category?” She asked while fearing the answer. 

“Are you crazy? Of course not!” He replied offended.

“Then why have you been ignoring me? What’s going on with you? We had a moment, things clicked and it felt right, but you just bailed on me!” She told him with her voice full of anger but it was soft. 

Shawn took a deep breath. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for yet fearing the outcome. He didn’t realize when his heart started to pound against his ribcage, but he calmed his breathing and started pouring his heart out. 

“I’m scared,” He confessed. “I really like you, and I have for a while now, ever since I saw you. But I'm scared because we are friends, and you mean a lot to me and I can’t help it. We are constantly in the spotlight, I don’t want them to damage what we already have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you any less, because...” 

Shawn’s ramble was suddenly interrupted by a pair of soft lips against his own.

He instantly relaxed and everything felt natural. His hands fell on her waist as he drew her closer. Everything felt familiar yet strange, but the most important thing...

It felt right. 

[musicprincess655]

Hey Itsuki!

This warning isn’t going to work at all, because I’m not actually talking to you, but it’s the only contact information I have, so it’ll have to do.

I’m coming back to Japan.

And more importantly, I’m looking at baseball teams. Most importantly, I’m looking at the BayStars.

I’m also looking at the Giants, because they made an offer and I’d be stupid not to take them up on it, right? They’re one of the biggest names, and they offered the most money. On paper, I should definitely be trying to join that team.

But the BayStars. Obviously, you play for them. You’re not the only reason I’m considering the offer. Building a team from scratch in America was hard work, but more fun than I could’ve imagined. I wouldn’t even have to do that here. You’ve done a lot, and that new manager of yours seems to have some good ideas. But you’re on the rise, or at least I think you are, and that has more appeal than I would’ve ever believed.

So yeah. This is your heads up, I guess, even if you’re not going to read this. I have to get on a plane now, so we’ll pretend I’m not a little offended that the Swallows are so pleased with Kazuya and Sawamura that they didn’t even make an offer, because come on, Sawamura isn’t that good.

Mei

Mei closes his phone, sits back, and sighs. This whole triumphant return to Japan he planned out is getting off to a bit of a rough start. He managed to make it to California just fine, but his plane across the ocean is delayed again, and he’s been sitting in the airport for three hours now. Ueda went to Japan ahead of him to start laying the groundwork for a new contract, which means Mei is here on his own, trying to find a way to pass the time.

He’s spent at least two of those three hours writing and rewriting that email to Itsuki.

It doesn’t matter, or it shouldn’t. Itsuki never responds, has probably never even opened one of his emails. Mei could’ve just said hey coming to see ur team lol and it would make no difference.

But this is different, somehow, from Mei spilling everything he feels, everything he still wants to tell Itsuki. This time, he’s affecting Itsuki’s life, the one he’s built without any input from Mei. He deserves a warning, even if he’s not going to read it, and he deserves the nicest one Mei can send him.

“Japan Airlines flight number 67 is now boarding.”

With a sigh of relief, Mei climbs to his feet, stretching out his shoulders. He’s in for a long, boring flight, and though a part of him can’t wait to touch down with a goal of permanence, most of him is nervous.

It’s not just because of Itsuki, although that’s a big part of it. Whether Mei ends up choosing the BayStars or the Giants, or another team ends up making an offer, being back in Japan will mean Mei is a lot closer to Itsuki, and it will be impossible for him to not try to make things right. He doesn’t know if Itsuki will let him, and doesn’t know how he’ll convince Itsuki to let him try.

But it’s also that Mei has been gone for the better part of a decade, and although Japan is home and will always be home, America is too. This trip is the beginning of the end of his time there, and Mei is going to miss the country that he’s made his home for all these years, the teammates and friends that have earned places in his heart, the city that, despite all its flaws, is still one of the coolest places Mei has ever lived.

And of course, there’s that fear that the Japan in his memories won’t match up to what he’s returning to. That childish fear that without looking at something, it will shift into an entirely unrecognizable thing, foreign and unknowable. Or that his memories, full of nostalgia, brimming with the rosy glow of being a high school baseball star, will be warmer than the reality.

Mei almost feels like he’s passing through a portal when he walks down the hallway to board the plane. Like this is a save point, and he won’t be able to go back once he passes through. It’s ridiculous, of course, because if he does get cold feet, he’ll be able to turn back.

But he doesn’t think he will.

For once, Mei manages to sleep on the flight. He even went to the trouble of selecting a window seat just to make sure he would have something to look at the whole time, and it doesn’t end up mattering. Mei falls asleep halfway through the first inflight movie and doesn’t wake up until the plane jars from landing. He blinks sleep out of his eyes, groggy and confused, until he realizes what happened.

All that time he was supposed to be preparing for this, and he just slept it all away.

Ueda’s waiting for him when he makes it through the twisting hallways to the front, and he gives Mei an approving nod. All that walking woke Mei up, and after sleeping for so long, it feels like Mei has caffeine soaring through his veins. He’s so awake he’s almost jittery.

“Do you have a checked bag?” Ueda asks.

“Yeah,” Mei says. “How’s it looking over here?”

“Mostly good news, so far,” Ueda says. “Negotiating with Japanese is a lot different than negotiating with Americans.”

“Unrelenting politeness?”

“I never thought I would ask for American rudeness back,” Ueda complains. “All this indirect talking around each other is exhausting.”

“I believe in you,” Mei says.

“I did manage to find a new agent for you,” Ueda says. “She seemed a little too timid for you at first, but she won’t let you get away with shit.”

That is, perhaps, the hardest part of this whole endeavor. Mei will no longer have Ueda as his agent. Ueda will be staying in America, after all, with his whole life built there, and Mei will need someone in Japan. Ueda can’t do it from across the ocean, and Mei would never ask him to move just for this.

“Ready to have me out of your hair?” Mei asks, only a little teasing. Just about any player would’ve been less high maintenance than him, and he knows Ueda’s done a lot for him over the years.

“You know, when I first met you, I thought I would be,” Ueda says. “You were like breaking into this business on hard mode.”

“Harsh.”

“But I’m not,” Ueda continues. “I’m actually really going to miss you.”

“Aw,” Mei whines to hide how touched he really is. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Talia says you’re always welcome to visit,” Ueda says. “And what she means is, she expects you to visit every so often.”

“How else will I turn your child against you?”

“I will revoke your uncle status, don’t test me.”

They’re out of the airport now, heading for a car that’s waiting for them. They didn’t plan anything for today, expecting Mei to be entirely wiped out from not sleeping on the flight, so Mei has an unexpected stretch of hours to kill. Once Ueda gets him settled into the hotel, he spends it wandering the streets, looking for pieces of the Tokyo he remembers. He’s much farther into the center of the city than he spent time in before, but he sees a few places he went with friends. Snickering at the memories, Mei turns back to the hotel before it gets too dark. They have a meeting bright and early with the Giants.

It’s a standard boring business meeting, and Mei only sort of pays attention. The most interesting part is his new agent. He and Ueda didn’t arrive in time to do more than hurried introductions, so Mei isn’t quite sure what to think of her yet.

Konoe An doesn’t seem like much at first. She’s pretty enough, about the same age as Mei, and not all that remarkable. After introducing herself, she’s just been quietly taking notes, letting Ueda lead the conversation. Still, if Ueda recommends her, there must be something special about her.

The best part of the day is when they let him test out the Giant’s catcher. Abe is also the captain, and he’s more than competent. Mei doesn’t have a single complaint about how they work together, and he hopes it doesn’t show that he’s waiting for something more.

“Not bad,” Konoe tells him after they’re done talking it out. “I saw your performance in the Olympics, but still, having so many different usable pitches is impressive.”

“You know about baseball,” Mei says. He’s not sure why he’s so surprised. If she’s an agent, she should know something about the sport.

“My ex was a pitcher,” she says. “He was pretty into college ball, so I was pretty into college ball.”

“What happened to him?”

“Dumped him for a catcher.”

“I like your style.”

They spend another week in Tokyo letting Mei familiarize himself with the team and talking out contract details. Mei sees his family, and his dad and sisters are overjoyed at the possibility that he might be coming back. His mom is the best, though. She’d accepted, all those years ago, that he was leaving for good, and she never expected him to return.

Then, when Mei’s anticipation and anxiety starts to peak, they make the short trip down to Yokohama.

He’s not sure how Itsuki will respond to him, and at this point, that will make or break this trip. He’ll be coming into Itsuki’s team, unannounced, and trying to find a place for himself there. At the very least, he hopes Itsuki’s coach let him know what’s coming.

Mei’s heart jumps into his throat when he sees Itsuki for the first time like a teenager with a crush. He tries to prepare himself for the disappointment he’ll feel when Itsuki looks at him coldly, like he did when they first met for the Olympics.

But it doesn’t come.

“Hello, Mei-san.” Itsuki doesn’t look thrilled to see him, but he also doesn’t look upset, and Mei counts that as a victory. Itsuki’s coach must have warned him after all.

“Hey Its…Tadano,” Mei corrects himself quickly. He doesn’t know if their old deal is still in place, but he’s willing to respect it anyway for as long as he has to.

“Ready to pitch?” Itsuki asks, holding up his mitt. Mei grins.

“Always.”

Abe of the Giants was good enough that Mei had no complaints, but now, with Itsuki, Mei has only praise. It’s nothing like their first practice for the Olympics had been. If anything, it’s closer now to how pitching felt in high school than anything else has ever been. Mei is so pleased he must be glowing.

“Much more impressive,” Konoe tells him.

“I agree,” Ueda says. “I was worried you might have the same issues as last time, but they’ll have nothing to complain about for you here.”

Mei might be thrilled beyond words that he and Itsuki can still work together, but he needs to talk to Itsuki before he can really get into contract negotiations. Unfortunately, it’s not until nearly the end of his week in Yokohama that Mei even has a chance to speak to Itsuki alone, and it involves Mei dragging Itsuki away from a practice and Ueda distracting the coach for him.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Itsuki doesn’t look all that upset about being dragged away from practice, just curious.

“I won’t sign if you don’t want me here,” Mei says, trying to get the biggest points out in a rush.

“What?”

“I’ll go to another team if you think you don’t want to work with me,” Mei says.

“You can do what you want, Mei-san. I’m not in charge of you.”

“No, that’s not…” Mei sighs in frustration. “It was your team first. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here. If me being here would make you feel that way, I won’t.”

Itsuki considers him very carefully, and Mei thinks he’s about to be told to leave. It wouldn’t be so bad, he supposes. He can still sign with the Giants, and he’ll be back in Tokyo, and plenty of his old friends live there, and it’s familiar and good. He could be happy there.

“It’s fine,” Itsuki says. “You could join this team. I would be fine with that.”

Mei gapes at him.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Itsuki rolls his eyes, and it almost feels like high school again. “What are we, teenagers? We’re both professionals, we can be on the same team.”

“We almost couldn’t,” Mei points out. “We didn’t click at all when we started the Olympics.”

“I think that gold medal proves we can work together anyway.” Itsuki considers him again, and then, slowly, raises a fist to Mei’s chest. “See you at spring training?”

Mei grins, heart in his throat, but for all the best reasons this time.

“See you.”

Later, Ueda and Konoe will go over all his options, will show him the money he could make and the deals he could secure, but Mei’s mind is already made up. He knows where he belongs now.

[kaceyrps]

Since I think I might finally have some more time, I’d love to start some new plots under the cut are a few I really want rn, but I’m always open to plotting something else out. If you like anything, just hum or hit the heart!

Plots

can someone pls give me a ‘you left 3 yrs ago in the middle of the night with not even a goodbye letter and now you’re on my door step w a kid that looks exactly like me’ plot pls

I really want to do a 1x1 where Muse A and Muse B, met at a bar one night and ended up having a deep conversation that culminated in a make-out session. Muse A promised to call Muse B, but never did and Muse B didn’t have Muse A’s phone number. A couple of months passed with Muse B thinking about their night with Muse A - not being able to find that connection with someone else. Then Muse B finally meets Muse A again, only to find Muse A is dating their best friend. Despite both parties trying to push aside their feelings after meeting again, things get complicated. (They could either decide to keep things friendly or it would lead to a relationship, depending on how the rp goes).

we absolutely hate each other but we’re the romantic leads so i guess we have to make this work

i’m the stage manager and you’re the self-absorbed diva, so naturally we despise each other

i’m the understudy for your character’s love interest and since he’s not here today you asked me to help you run the kissing scene and i’m really attracted to you

A plot based on cutting edge

consider this: classic “one of the boys” girl who hangs out with the frat bros accidentally falling in love with an elle woods-esque sorority girl that she meets at a party??? muse a comes from a family w like a million older brothers so ofc she makes a beeline for the frats when she gets to college bc she feels most comfortable around boys. the only thing is, she dreads their mixers with the sorority girls bc she hates the “prissy glitter bitches” and wants to vomit whenever she sees lilly pulitzer lmao. so when muse b comes up to her at one of these mixers and introduces herself, muse a is like lol ok w/e. but to her surprise, muse b is actually like…. interesting and smart and yes definitely ridiculous but she’s still shocked that she actually has a personality. and when muse b keeps seeking her out at the mixers, muse a suddenly finds herself more and more flustered as she realizes that she has a GIANT ASS CRUSH on this girl. honestly pls just give me cute college girls in love with frat bros cheering for them in a non-gross manner

give me a couple that met through youtube ( maybe one of them mentioned the other on their channel, through mutual friends, at an event/meet-up ? how they actually connected is up to you ! oh – and they could have polar opposite channels or similar channels ! ) who started off as friends doing trendy collab videos, but everyone fell in love with their dynamic and pointed out how natural their chemistry was or how one looked at the other and vice versa ––- the little things ! what the viewers didn’t know was that muse a was crushing hard on muse b and muse b was crushing equally hard on muse a, but obviously neither one of them were going to risk ruining their great friendship. soon enough, the two spilled their woes and became an item, however they kept it a secret for a few months. finally, after much debate they decided to go public and their subscribers went wild some saying ‘they knew all along’ or ‘they’re so happy’ while others said it ’wouldn’t last’ or ‘they’re doing it for the views’. fast forward to a few years later: now they’re living together in ( california, england, anywhere ! ), documenting their daily shenanigans for their shared vlogging channel, attending events, and keeping their separate channels fresh and exciting with occasional or frequent collabs ! 

13 going on 30 plot where they were really close when they were younger, and then they both went there separate ways. and then they meet up later on, and they just start spending a lot of time together and start becoming best friends and then they slowly start to fall in love with each other (✿◠‿◠) liKE PLEASE I NEED THIS!!

wild child: muse a is sent to a horrific private boarding school. no phone, no laptop. it’s like being back in the 17th century. muse a is a wild child, always has been, and they refused to be disciplined. they need a way out of this school and fast- and no better solution comes then muse b.. the principals child that comes to visit on weekends and is loved by all, and extremely good looking. the plan is easy, get muse b’s attention, make them fall for muse a and get caught by the principal and get out of this school. but then those pesky real feelings start to get in the way, and what started as a way to leave, has started to turn into a reason to stay.

the duff: muse a has never been conventionally attractive, and that has never bothered them before. until one day at a party when muse b asks muse a where their friends are. when muse a states it’s not their job to disclose information on their friends, muse b calls them something they’ll never forget. duff. designated. ugly. fat. friend. a mean word, sure, but then slowly… muse a starts to see it. their friends are incredible, good looking, everybody knows them. and muse a is a no one. forced to be paired together in a school assignment together, muse a can’t stand muse b and their cocky, arrogant attitude. muse b continues to call muse a ‘duffy’, thinking it’s funny and gets on their nerves. in a moment of blind anger- muse a finds themselves slamming muse b into a wall. and then proceeding to angrily make out with them. kissing turns into removal of clothes, and before they know it muse a and muse b have slept together. muse a swears it will never happen again, and muse b loves taunting muse a. but they just tick each other off in the wrong way, and end up having angry, hot, rushed sex more and more. it’s just physical anger relief for muse a, but muse b starts to genuinely fall for muse a. when they reveal it though- muse a blows up and demands to know why anybody would want to be with the duff, let alone muse b. suddenly, muse b realises the nickname was more then just a joke and a way to get under muse a’s skin and that they’ve really truly hurt the one person they love.

muse a and muse b had lived in the same town their entire lives. on the first day of kindergarten, they sat across from each other on the bus and muse b offered muse a one of his animal crackers. from then on, they were attached at the hip. they remained inseparable through elementary school, and by the time middle school came around, muse a found puberty working in her favor. muse a was outgoing, funny, and beautiful, and everyone wanted to be her friend. muse b, on the other hand, was awkward and shy, and the only attention he got was negative. despite their differences, muse a and muse b remained close friends, and muse a often found herself having to defend muse b against the bullying. in the middle of 8th grade, muse b disappeared from school and moved halfway across the country with his family. muse a tried to stay in touch, but it seemed like every time she reached out to him, she was brushed off. eventually the two lost connection and moved on.fast forward to high school. muse a finds herself caught up in the wrong crowd, and after a string of pregnancy rumors, she loses most of her close friends and becomes virtually invisible. muse a pours herself into her love of poetry and writing to try and entertain her loneliness. that is, until she walks into school to find an extremely attractive boy leaned up against her locker. muse b is back, and despite all of his new found attention from girls, he only has eyes for muse a.

i need a plot where muse a and muse b recently broke up and then muse a gets in some kind of accident and suffers temporary amnesia and forGETS they were ever broken up and its SO awkward for muse b but hes still in love with muse a and too afraid to tell the truth so he’s just waiting for muse a to remember and !!! fake relationships ! secrets ! pining ! fluff ! angst ! everything goodb y e

someone give me a “i’m the legacy of the prim and proper stereotypical sorority on campus and i’m expected to rush, live, and breathe it throughout my time here and it’s the night before rush and i got invited to this party at the rival, party girl sorority and that girl over there is really pretty and keeps smiling at me and now her mouth is on mine and i’m a little more than drunk and in bed with her and i wake up the next morning and she’s gone, i don’t even know her name. and now it’s rush night and - holy shit…there she is, and she’s the president of the rival, party girl sorority.” plot,,1!!!!!!!

Muse A just had their heart broken and decided to shy away from relationships, so their friends dragged them out for a night to get them out of the house. Enter muse B. Someone who spends the night flirting with muse A, but gets nowhere. Muse B gives muse A their number, saying if they change their mind to call. Muse A, after some prompting from friends, calls muse B and they go out on a date – one they both enjoy. But just as muse A comes around to the idea of a new relationship, muse B finds out that muse A’s ex, is muse B’s sibling. Muse A and muse B had the perfect marriage. They were happy, just bought their first house and had a baby. Until muse B tragically died – or at least that’s what muse A thought. Muse B had witnessed a crime, and had to be put in witness protection. Not wanting to risk the life of muse A and their child, muse B let them believe that they were dead. When the trial is finally over with, and the threat is locked away, muse B is left to go back to their old life but has no idea how to tell muse A about what happened.

Muse A is seen as the town’s rebel and isn’t exactly well known for following the rules. Muse B is the new principle’s child, and wanting to get back at their parent for moving them without asking, muse B decides they want to date muse A. It’s just unfortunate timing, since muse A decided to try and clean up their act - something muse B is determined not to let happen.

Things I want plots based on

The candy jar

Disney’s zombies

Lizzie McGuire

Descendants 

Hocus Pocus

Chrismas Inheritance 

Prince & Me

Charmed 

Gilmore Girls

Harry Potter

Secret Circle 

Parent Trap

10 things I hate about you

Drive me crazy

Ships I’d like

Peter Parker/MJ

Fitzsimmons 

Mumu ideas

summer camp counselors: between the ages of 18 ad 21, volunteers from colleges around the country (BONUS: around the entire world) flock here to guide children through the summer of their lives, coincidentally also making this the best summer of their own lives.

co-ed college dorms:  Simply a group of students living in one building, trying to get along and figure themselves out in the process.

tour: There’s a band on the rise to fame and they’ve brought along two opening acts and entire crew that helps make the entire process that much smoother. Heads will clash, too many personalities together for too many months on end.

sleepy beach town: Every summer there are quite a few families that spend their summers unwinding in a town far from home. There are families that have become quite close due to the three months spent out of every month in this small town. There are also those families that are spending their first year here. This could test friendships and even relationships that have already developed.

kids of famous people: over the years, it’s been no secret that the celebrities we’ve known to love and care for from afar have grown to have families of their own. Now, it’s their children’s turn to make something of their lives. Do they follow in their parents footsteps or do they do something entirely different? Are they snotty self absorbed or do they give back every chance they get? There are millions of possibilities.

apartment complex: A bunch of diverse people all living in one building together. There’s this small family type bond between them but they still aren’t afraid to start crap when it’s necessary. At the end of the day, they will always have each others back when it’s needed

gossip girl: it’s been 25 years since Dam Humphry came out as Gossip Girl. There have been plenty of fakes trying to capture the things he’d been able to for all those years but no one could ever live up to the greatness that was the true Gossip Girl. Until now. There’s a new gossip site online that’s got their eye on everything happening around the New York elite. Rumors spread that Dan’s back in the game after all these years but there’s someone greater wreaking havoc on these young adults lives. (Could be the kids of the former group and their friends or an entirely different crew of elite)

[the-manor-7]

Soulmate au - Namjoon pt.1

[au: Whatever you write on your skin, also appears on your soulmate's. This ability does not fade once you meet.] 

I stared down at my arm and waited for the usual response from my mystery-soulmate.  

I sipped my tea as I waited and looked around the small café I was sitting in.  

It was cute, with the theme being more nature oriented than other eateries. Vines grew in terraces that reached the ceiling, flowers grew in pots that were scattered about the room, and a few domesticated birds flew around, occasionally taking notice of what people were eating and getting curious.  

Despite the circumstantial susceptibility, the area was kept clean, with you rarely finding dirt or anything of the sort on the table or in the corners of the room.  

It really was a nice place.  

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and I looked down at my arm, seeing a smiley face.  

I was a senior, getting my doctorate degree in the English language and writing.  

The first time this exchange of ideas occurred was when I had a burst of spontaneous creativity and had no paper near me. Not wanting to lose the idea, I took a pen out of my purse and started writing an expansive paragraph on my arm.  

Now, normally, I do not write on my skin. I had the (in my opinion) bad habit trained out of me when I was a small child, so I never did indulge myself in the past. 

So, this was a new occurrence for me, but I still expected nothing of it.  

But, about an hour later, after I had finished writing and was getting on with my day, I happened to look down at my arm and saw something out of the ordinary.  

There was a new sentence on my arm, but not in my own handwriting. It read: "You must be my soulmate! Wow, this is good! What is this for?" 

Now, to tell you the truth, I did not reply until a few days later.  

Growing up, my mother had always been wary of someone stealing her personal information, and I had inherited that trait. Due to this, I was very reluctant to write anything else on my arm.  

But, curiosity got the best of me, and I replied: "Thank you for the compliment, and this is for my thesis that I need to write for school." 

I know, not something many would find as an appropriate response to a new-found soulmate. But, at least I replied (that's what I like to think). 

This pattern had been repeating for a few months now.  

I write down a new idea, or something of the sort, and my soulmate replied.  

The messages just started out as a vague question or praise, but they soon morphed into spelling/grammar corrections or new ideas.  

Despite myself, I started to realize many of these new ideas I found intriguing and rather fitting, and I began to use them.  

Somewhere along the way, they began to write lyrics on their arm, and I gave them pointers and praise on those.  

This went on for a few months, and here I am today.  

Today I had written another paragraph for a school paper, and the awaited reply came, as usual, but something new was written on my skin (or that of my soulmate, however you like to think of it). It read: "This is very good! Where do you go to school?" 

This immediately made my hackles stand up and I glared down at the message, wishing it would disappear.  

But, it didn't, it stayed on my arm the rest of the day, all through my classes and until I reached my apartment.  

After I had cleaned myself up and gotten something to eat, I sat down on my couch and rolled my sleeve up.  

I looked down at the most recent message and sighed.  

Realizing what I was doing was ridiculous, I picked up a pen and decided to reply truthfully: "Thank you! And I go to school at the University of Idaho." 

There was a quick response: "That is in America, right?" 

I placed the pen down on my skin again: "Yes, it is. Why are you asking?" 

"I am traveling to America next week, and I wondered if you wanted to meet up and go to a concert or something." 

"Where would the concert be?" 

"New York" 

I sighed: "Sorry, but as you know, I am a college student trying to get my doctorate. I'm broke." 

They took a few minutes to reply: "I can pay for your ticket. But, I need to know your name and address so I can send it to you." 

Before I lost my nerve, I haphazardly scribbled down my personal information on my arm.  

"Oh, your name is (y/f/n)? That name is very pretty!" 

I grumbled: "Thanks, now I think I deserve to know your name too." 

"Sorry," the answer was written down slowly, "But, you're going to have to wait until we meet. You'll understand then." 

I glared at the familiar handwriting before replying: "Fine. Who are we going to see?" 

"The group is called BTS." 

Being the information-freak that I am, I pulled out my laptop and looked up the group.  

They seemed to be a popular K-Pop group by the looks of it. Their members were: Jin, Suga, J-Hope, RM, Jimin, V, and Jungkook.  

"I'm assuming you're looking them up?" 

I paused to write back: "Of course." 

"Lol, you nerd." 

"You're one to talk." I paused: "By the way, how come you can pay for my ticket, but I can't? How old are you?" 

It took them a few minutes to reply: "I'm twenty-four. What about you?" 

"Twenty-seven." 

"That makes sense, and the age difference isn't too big. That's good right?" 

"It's fine. I'm comfortable with it." 

"Can I ask you some more personal questions?" 

"Why are you asking all of this now? We've been communicating for a few months, now." 

"I figured one of us had to start the conversation. Do you mind if I ask?" 

I glared down at the question: "I'm sorry, but I actually do mind. I would rather not give any more personal information before I learn yours." 

"That's fine! I was just asking in case you agreed. And I can understand that, I'm hiding mine right now." 

"Exactly. Besides, I already gave you my address. I think that's enough for now." 

I looked at my arm that was now covered in ink.  

"You're making a mess of my arm, I'm going to go wash it off." 

"Wait!" 

I stared down at the word as I froze on my way down the hallway.  

"Ok, you can do it now. I'll clean mine off too." 

I began to walk again.  

Once it was done, I sat back down on the couch and watched as the ink on my soulmate's arm quickly faded away.  

"So, when is the concert?" 

"April 28th." 

*** 

I looked up at the arena as the people around me murmured in excitement.  

Today was the day, April 28th.  

True to their word, my soulmate had sent me a ticket for my flight and the concert.  

Despite my better judgment, I had actually stepped onto the plane, and now here I am. Granted, the entire time I was on the plane, I was berating myself for my stupidity.  

Couldn't I have just waited a little longer?! I only have two more months of school left! And I still have exams to study for and a thesis to finish!! 

Halfway through the flight, I felt like punching through the window and jumping out, going back to school and everything I had worked so long and hard for.  

But, later, I managed to calm myself down to a more stable state of mind. 

Though, I'm sure the process had been amusing to watch. I've been told many times I'm as easy to read as an open book.  

Back to the present, I am now entering the arena, drifting among the almost hysterical fans.  

I took out a pen and wrote on my arm: "Where are you?" 

The reply came back a few minutes later: "Are you in the arena?" 

"Yes, now answer my question." 

It took them a couple more minutes: "Sorry, I just contracted a fever and a headache this morning, and I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to the concert. Can I meet up with you afterwards?" 

I stared at the message in disbelief.  

I just traveled across the country to see them, and they're backing out the last minute?! 

I calmed myself down (but only slightly) and thought about their health: "Fine." 

"I'm really sorry. I hope you enjoy the concert, though!" 

I decided not to reply.  

Steeling my nerves, I walked into the crowd of screaming people.  

*** 

I sighed as I waited in line to meet BTS's members.  

'Why are you here?' Some people might wonder. 

Well, halfway through the concert, my soulmate wrote down another message on their arm: "Make sure to go to the fan-sign. I payed for that too." 

And that's why I find myself standing here, in front of Jin.  

"Hello! What is your name?" He asked as he smiled at me.  

Politely, I smiled back, "It's nice to meet you, my name is Crystal." 

"Oh, really?" He grabbed my album that I had bought not fifteen minutes before and signed it, "There you go, have a nice day!" 

I smiled and bid him farewell as I moved on to Suga.  

I found Suga amusing. He was pleasant and easy to talk to, but also very sarcastic (since he had a better understanding of the English language). 

The next person was J-Hope, who reminded me of one of my closest friends. Full of energy and can talk a mile a minute.  

When I took my seat in front of Namjoon, he smiled at me, and held out his hand to shake, "It's nice to meet you, what is your name?" 

I took his hand, "It's nice to meet you as well, my name is (y/f/n)." 

His eyes widened, "Does your name happen to be '(y/f/n) (y/l/n)'?" He said, hesitantly.  

I quirked an eyebrow, "How do you know my name?" 

"Well..." he pulled up his sleeve and displayed his arm, "l just might be your soulmate." 

I looked at the messages scribbled across his arm and looked back up at him.  

"You," I pointed a finger at him, "Better have a good explanation. Do you know how much stress you put me through? I still have a thesis to finish, and you know that!" 

He had the audacity to laugh as he pulled his sleeve back down, "Yep, you definitely have the same personality." 

"And you kept your personal information hidden, what is the point of that?" 

"I'm a famous K-Pop idol, I can't just give my identity out to anyone, can I? Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise. Is that not a good enough reason?" 

"No!" I flicked him in the forehead, "That's for tricking me into coming here and then abandoning me." 

He rubbed his face and chuckled, "I had to get you here somehow. And I'm in the concert, it's not like I can be two places at once. But," he leaned forward and looked me in the eye, "I'm sorry I lied. Do you forgive me?" 

I huffed before a smile began to grow on my face, "Fine. But, you owe me dinner." 

"Deal. Wait..." it was his turn to get frustrated (if you could even call it that, he wasn't even angry), "Didn't I buy you the tickets to get here?" 

"Yes" My smile was sickly-sweet, "But that's your duty, since we're soulmates, you know?" 

He stared at me before shaking his head and laughing, "You really are something. And fine, I'll take you out to dinner." 

I smiled, "Thanks." 

Just then, a fan yelled at me to get out of the way.  

He looked at me, guilty, "I'll meet up with you later, then?" 

"Sure, that's fine. Right after everything is over?"  

He nodded before signing my album and winking at me before moving onto the next person.  

Well then, looks like I've found my soulmate. And it turns out, they just happen to be famous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and requests!

Thank you, 

The_Manor

Masterlist

[gotgifsandmusings]

Unnecessarily Dramatic (maybe? Is it?) SM Update

Oh hi. I have no idea how to start this, lol.

So...it’s not exactly subtle that I’ve had a downturn in content and posts lately. And this was something that I was really debating whether to even explicitly talk about, because a lot of times posts or videos about dialing back from social media always feel very dramatic to me? Or self-serving in some way. Like, “Oh yes, I must be that important to necessitate this.”

But idk, the more I thought about it, I really really do appreciate anyone who’s read/commented on my writing, or followed me, or sent me thoughtful asks, and whatnot. I think it’s cool that we’ve been able to engage with each other over media, and that platform has allowed us to really delve into a ton of issues. Remember when I wrote a sourced series of essays on tropes in GoT Season 5 through the framework of ambivalent sexism just ‘cause?

And even though sometimes that engagement is me you know, being snotty to a rude anon, for the most part my writing analysis online, then fanfic, then podcasting, then building up a website and a community for thoughtful analysis, and even a youtube video here and there has been something really meaningful and rewarding to me. The fact that it’s maybe touched others? At least enough to the point where I’m getting anons saying, “hope you’re okay”? That’s very humbling.

So yeah, I do feel like I want to loop you in on what’s been going on, which I will do below the cut. (Apologies those on mobile.)

I’m starting to feel like a dishonest cars salesman here. “Oh yeah, I’ll totally write about that! I’m definitely going to have this piece then!” Even just the number of answered asks, most of which are incredibly good and insightful, you know, pains me that I can’t get to them. Hell, my drafts folder has about 40 partially answered asks. One is even about Sondheim! Why can’t I finish it??

Here’s the deal. For the past...6 months (maybe? A year?), I’ve kept saying, “when life calms down.” Or “Life has been a bear lately”...whatever that means. And I’m only now at a point where I’m realizing, my life isn’t going to calm down. In fact, my life—that being my primary career, my situation where I am, and my relationships to friends and family—sort of needs to be a priority for me.

Full confession: the reason I’ve been so prolific up until this point was due to the fact that my previous “day jobs” as I called them, while in line with what I studied and cared about, were something I could do in about 15 hours a week, if that. There was a finite amount of work, I was decent at it, and I really didn’t have an ambitious drive at these jobs because they really weren’t as focused or meaningful as I would have liked and the environments were not conducive to my personal professional growth.

So what did I do? I mailed it in. I found more personal fulfillment with what I was writing about online. It began with the Legend of Korra finale, which had excited me so much that I actually wrote my first rambling thoughts about it during work hours. At the time, it was on a Friday going into the “Christmas Break” where I’d be working from home, so it seemed okay to push work off. But I got a taste for that, got in a pattern of doing the bare minimum, and then focused my efforts on the stuff I actually wanted to be doing—chatting about media.  

And part of that was also due to the fact that I was in a major social rut. I was pretty isolated since I tend to have a smaller group of close friends rather than a large bunch of friends, and our career paths just kind of scattered us. I’d maybe get together with people once a month? I also loathed the dating game. I was, for the most part, working at a small startup with two middle-aged ladies and no options there, which left me with tinder and cupid. I laugh because I’ve gotten asks like, “wow you must have been a busy bisexual bee.” Yeah...3 or 5 months would pass and I’d realize I hadn’t gotten laid, so I’d worry that was a sign I was depressed, and I’d go on some random cupid date to have tangible evidence that that wasn’t the case.

My point being, writing about media and engaging with tons of people online was really appealing, and became an outlet for me in a way I never could have anticipated.

But that entire situation changed. For one, I began dating my now-fiance (as much as I hate that word) over a year ago. It was long-distance, so not a huge change at first. Then my sister moved home and in with me last fall, and my family commitments dialed up (3 cats and a baby!). Which was fantastic, it really was. But I think you probably noticed I produced less and less as this went on.

And then, finally, I moved my ass halfway across the country because long-distance wasn’t making any sense anymore. I wasn’t willing to move without a job lined up, so job hunting began to focus me again on my professional career. While I love writing and analyzing, I’ve never seriously considered this as a career path for myself. Which is no knock on anyone who does—it’s just pursuing that life formally is not for me. I have an engineering degree and a Masters in environmental policy, and the latter is truly what I’ve always wanted as my focus. I was finally able to hone in on a job that made sense for me with my background, not just a job that was around when I needed one.

I found it, I moved mid-April, and I absolutely love what I’m doing. The job, the workplace, everything has so exceeded my expectations in every way, and for once I have like, career aspirations where I am. This doesn’t mean I’m any less passionate about analyzing media, but it does mean that professionally, I won’t mail it in anymore to make time for that. My job has to be my focus, and in fact I’m likely going to be working 50 hour weeks to do accomplish what I want here. And don’t worry—there’s amazing work from home policies and PTO, so it’s not a “work you to your grave” kind of deal. I legitimately want to be doing this, because I care about what I’m doing and feel like it matters.

What does that mean though? Well, it means I have to take a step back from the amount I’ve been doing. I can’t be copyediting every night for The Fandomentals, I can’t be writing a weekly piece, and the GoT rewatch, and two podcasts, and longer retrospectives, and other planned co-analysis, and fanfic, and answering all the asks I want to, and checking my site email to organize and manage our team of contributors. Certainly not if I want to sleep, work out, keep up with the news, be around family and friends, and have some semblance of downtime. That I was able to do all this stuff this long is actually probably not the best sign, you know?

So I’m trying to really focus my efforts. I plan to keep both podcasts going, because I really love doing that. The GoT rewatch is going to keep on keepin’ on as well, as planned. Julia and I will still finish out our retrospectives for S7, and I’ve even already rewatched the Dragonstone scenes. But my weekly pieces in addition to all this are going to stop, unless I’m super excited by something. I have no idea about my fanfic, to be honest, and I think that’s going to have to be a situational mood-based judgement call. With regards to the asks and social media interaction...I will do what I can, but as you’ve been seeing, it’s just not something I have a ton of time for. I haven’t even gotten back into my gifcapping funky flow!

For my LoK blog, god, I don’t even know how the definitive rankings are going to end up. I want to try, but really who knows. Because the other thing is that I come home from work and am actually like...intellectually tired. I need a break. I feel like such a boring drudge now, but it’s true. (Also BOTW is a great destresser.)

So yeah, there’s really no good way to end this. I’m just letting you know why I’m going to be sparse. But that also I’m doing well, so no worries there, and thank you so much for anyone who’s sent something caring about this.

And I’m still me, of course. If some GoT spoiler comes out or promo pictures or something, you can bet I’m going to be memeing like normal, and probably having stupid back-and-forths with some bellicose anon. If I feel like ranting about some movie or comic for 15 minutes in a video, I’ll likely do that. But I just can’t keep placing expectations on myself to do more next month, and it’s not fair to you to keep saying “when life calms down.” Life isn’t supposed to calm down. It’s not an inconvenience that gets in the way of me talking about my feelings on a piece of media. And moving forward, I’m going to do what I can to have a more balanced approach to all of that.

[joi-in-the-tardis]

Ok this bestie post is BEAUTIFUL and I love you both madly.

Bestie Month Post (for those of you who might have missed it)

You know, as I kid and young adult I think a lot of my friendships were me being “adopted” by someone else- usually an extrovert.  As I’ve gotten older I feel like I’ve gotten a bit better about reaching out and purposefully making friends with people (all across the introvert/extrovert spectrum).  

That being said, as one of the photos in the post shows...

I feel like this is a good place to mention that not only am I introverted, I’m also shy and socially anxious.  Those things don’t all mean the same thing and being one doesn’t mean you are the others.  I just happen to have the whole package deal. lol  One thing this means for me is that I have a hard time starting conversations with people.  It kinda goes one way: I say nothing at all and the crickets drive me mad.  Or the other way: I share to the point where I’m sure I’m oversharing.

Jem pretty much had to tell me we were Besties.  I mean, I knew we were friends.  There was a lot of interaction- both on our blogs and in our chat boxes- that went on before this post was made.  But, how much that means to one person can be different from how much it means to another.  Which kind of means that I’m answering question 2 first or at least along side question 1.  There’s a certain raw honesty that’s required sometimes.  It can be scary.  I know that there have been many times that I’ve written long, personal things to people here and I’ve sat with my finger over the send key and sweated(Jem most certainly included, at least early on).

Without body language clues or fun little coffee dates or trips to the mall it’s hard to know how someone’s going to react to what you say.  However, I feel like the people I’ve gotten the closest to here?  They’re the ones I poured my heart out to.  The ones I made myself vulnerable in front of with only my understanding of who they were (how they present themselves) and hope that they would be as kind as they seem to be.  Those moments when I sat poised, ready to make a run for it if things went south... But, I wound up with virtual hugs and the feeling of actually being understood.

I’m not advocating that you invade the first person’s inbox you find with your most deepest, darkest secrets.  Get to know them a little first.  Follow their blog: put them on notifications.  Comment on personal posts.  Comment about what’s going on with them and add in some stories about yourself, too.  Send a hello message, maybe about something they posted.  See how things go. See if they open up a little to you and return that by opening up yourself.  It’s a two way street and there’s no reason for them to put themselves out there if you’re not willing to at least meet them halfway.  (The same can be said in reverse: don’t expect the other person to constantly listen to you if you’re not willing to listen to them!)

I think you have to remind yourself that people are blogging publicly for a reason.  They could be rambling away in a notebook somewhere.  If they had lots of friends that shared their interests, they would probably be sharing with them instead of here.  We’re here because we want some attention, even if we don’t want to admit that.  And, I think a lot of us want a connection with other people.  Maybe not everyone’s looking for a Bestie, but I bet they are looking for friends.  At the very least, I’m just about positive they’re looking for people who share their interests and want to talk about them.

In my case, Jem had put in her blog description to chat her up any time.  So, one day, when something was really bothering me and I needed an ear?  I sent a message.  Later when something was bothering her, she sent me a message. Somewhere in between, we realized we had way (way, way) more in common than we’d ever realized.  As I recall, the downhill slide in to Bestie-dom happened pretty quickly as we found we could talk to one another and understand each other so easily when most people in our lives could not.

So, I suppose my answer to question 2 is that you’re going to be scared but you have to do it anyway.  (Or, as Carrie Fisher said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”) Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  And, you have to occasionally be very outright about your affections.  There’s only words here so words are what we have to use.  Have you enjoyed chatting with your friend? As you’re saying goodbye: tell them.  A simply “thanks for chatting” or “thanks for listening” or “I really like talking to you” goes a long way to warming a heart.  Maybe you don’t throw the “Bestie Bomb” out there right away (love ya, Jem!

Okay, so that’s question 2 down.  I’ve peppered question 1 in there, too: Jem shared a lot of herself on her blog and I responded to it.  I commented on photos.  I remembered stories and brought them up later.  I admired and shared her artwork because, by golly, the world should see what my friend can do!  In turn, I got more personal on my blog and Jem returned the favor.  Comments became conversations, conversations became long chats.  Some are silly, some are serious.  Most are both.  There’s an openness we’ve fostered that I think is rare and treasured on both sides.  And, we’re not afraid to tell one another what that means to us.  We’re also not afraid to tell the other (gently!) when they might be in error.  I think a real friendship means honesty even when it’s not a compliment.  It means the other person can count on you to be real.  But that, I think, comes later and with greater trust.

As for question 3...  I think you should monitor your expectations a bit.  Not everyone is going to want to chat with you daily (not everyone has that kind of time!).  Not everyone is going to want you to fly to their house and chill out with their fam for the week (I’m still a bit in awe at the trust required for that!).

Besties take time to cultivate.  Frienships take time to grow.  Start small and work up to it.  If the other person comments back on your comments, maybe send them a message to further the conversation.  Give them time to get back to you.  Respect that they have a life (job, family, IRL friends, pets, hobbies, etc).

With some persistence, trust, time, sharing, and determination I believe anyone can find a good friend here.  I remember being on this website in the years before I ran across Jem (and you, Skyler, among others).  I remember seeing mutuals go back and forth.  I remember seeing those friendships and being absolutely baffled as to how they happened.  How they were maintained.  Across countries and oceans and time zones.  I wondered and wondered.  How?  Maybe it’s not the same for everyone... but, putting my heart out there is how I feel I’ve earned my friendships.  Be it a heart that needed mending or a heart that was ready to help someone else mend.

(Because I’m kinda excited that I can add a photo here that I didn’t get to add to the other post: art and prezzies from my Bestie. I can shamelessly show off a little, right? ;) )

Anything you wanna add, @jemsauce?

[idealisticrealism]

Blindspot 3x04 recap

Aka ‘You probably should have just watched 3x03 again, Laura’

Okay, clearly I don’t do well with deadlines. Despite having 2 weeks to do it, I’m still doing this last minute, so it’s gonna be a fairly short one. Not to mention that this wasn’t exactly my favourite episode, so I may have fewer thoughts about it than others... but there’s definitely a few thoughts I do wanna share, so here goes. 

At first I thought that little girl was Alice but then realised all the many reasons why that made no sense. Instead we get introduced to a bomber guy who is clearly gonna be relevant to the ep despite just seemingly blowing himself up...

Oooh Jane came out with the truth about Roman calling her. Nice, honey. I’m proud of your openness. I wonder if Weller noticed she was acting weird last night, since it’s morning now? Also dude she gave him yet another perfect opening to tell her about Berlin and he didn’t take it!!!! Literally no matter what happened in Berlin, his staying silent about it is bad enough in itself. Dude you are setting yourself up for a big fall here!

Naww I love that Zapata is always checking in on Patterson. Ugh, these sisters. And instead of forcing her to take a break, like all the others would have tried to do, she just asks how she can help. I just love these two. I love that Zapata helps her see things from a different angle and gives her a plan to follow. Poor Patterson is so determined to make it up to Stuart and she needs all the help she can get

God I love Hirst’s accent. But dude what is happening with this scene. How have she and Reade been on such close terms that they had a bet that involved potentially shaving her head?? That’s the kind of thing you agree on whilst drunk. Have these two gotten drunk together?? What is going on. Also she legit takes the ugly jumper thing and agrees to wear it to a meeting?? At work, at the FBI?? With executive people?? That just feels very unlikely. Also dude she basically just said ‘hey Reade if you’ve done any shady shit make sure it’s buried deep because we’re gonna have people looking into us’. Wow.

Anyway my lil genius has cracked a tatt, which relates to the bomber guy we just saw before. Lol the guy’s ex wife nailed him by recognising his handwriting and tipping off the cops. You go, girl. Now though Patterson’s smarts they’ve found a van in some particular car park in Brooklyn, and lol Weller’s doing the bombsquad thing for some unknown reason. All that’s in the van is a letter though-- to the bomber’s daughter, from the bomber. He’s not really dead. Dun dun dunnnnnnn (lol get it bc his last name is Dunn haha)

Oh boy we’re actually seeing the wedding video. I don’t know whether to roll my eyes or melt into a puddle, but tbh I’m a little more leaning towards the eye rolling. I like that Zapata and Reade are doing theirs together, because I imagine they were both like ‘you go first, no you go  first, no you go I don’t know what to say’ so they just went in together. And lol ‘what do you even do in Colorado’ (right tho??) and ugh they’re so looking forward to being part of Jeller’s future and Reade even tells them he loves them (sidenote I like his earrings) and they say ‘don’t screw this up’ which kinda just hurts to hear because man did they screw it up real bad. Also Patterson ‘videobombing’ is the best lol. But I wanna know what happens in between the cuts! Where’s the director’s cut of this vid? haha

Lol Zapata giving Weller shit about the bombsquad thing (right tho????) and then also giving Jane shit, saying that she was surprised she didn’t squeeze into the suit and go with him. Ugh Zapata is so great this season already, can she just be like this forever? I’m still confused about Hirst’s ugly sweater sitch and why this is even being included. Is it to show her bond with Reade/the team? To show she’s a good sport?? Why Gero what are you trying to sayyy. Also they found the bomber’s daughter (who has had some trouble with the law herself) and they’re gonna bring her in to try find the bomber or whatever

Roman is looking dapper and heads into some fancy event as his new Tom persona. And then he meets Blake, the gorgeous hostess of the event, and who was also another former ‘LA Complex’ character-- fun fact she played the long-lost sister of Jonathan Patrick Moore’s character, so technically her and Roman’s siblings kind of dated. Ish. But ugh he’s being all cute and charming and weirdly Australian and she’s clearly liking it. She has such a great smile, it lights up her whole face. Aaaand the moment she walks away he’s off doing something sneaky, bc of course he is.

The bomber’s daughter is being recalcitrant, naturally. Goes with the territory. Weller and Reade are interrogating together which is nice, I like my good boys playing together. Glad to see Weller isn’t being such a butt. Anyway turns out her dad doesn’t drop the letters himself but has someone do it for him, and there’s an emergency signal for if she needs help. So they go to the park and they’re so cute all loitering about ‘undercover’. And I like that Jane can tell from across the park that Weller isn’t happy with the situation. Naww, so married.  Based on Weller’s gut they all move out, looking for the drop guy. Of course it’s Jane that spots him-- and does he spot the daughter, or Jane?? I can’t tell which he’s looking at. She loses him momentarily and then next thing he’s got a gun on her-- only he recognises her, his tone surprised but not hostile when he says ‘Remi?’ So they knew each other in the Sandstorm days?? He’s definitely not pleased to see her working with the cops though…

Oh boy. Now Weller is on the wedding vid and okay it’s pretty damn cute. And ugh he said the thing about her being his starting point AND end point and ughhh how many of us included a line like that in our fics?? But ugh he loves her so muuuch and he’s so emotional and amazed and happy to be marrying her ugh

Okay after that brief interlude we’re back to the suspect guy. What has this guy been in? I recognise him. And he seems to actually like Remi/Jane, which is why I think she is able to get the jump on him. I always love Jane being a badass. I wanna know what happens right after this tho-- like does she radio/call the team and be like ‘hey guys come to the house across the street I’ve incapacitated our suspect’ and Weller is all like ‘are you okay?????’ while the Reade is hoping that she managed to do it without drawing attention or injuring him too badly, and Zapata’s just miffed bc she didn’t get to kick any butt lol. Back at the lab Patterson fills them in-- he’s a dude that’s wanted in like seven countries for “like, all of the crimes” hahahaha. I love the way she said that. Zapata’s kinda impressed with him since according to the CIA he’s the go-to guy for forged documents. Then Reade sends Jeller in to do the interrogation and tbh I’m kinda getting used to Reade giving the orders. It’s pretty much like hearing Weller’s voice come out of his mouth lol. And then aw their suspect is kinda sad that Jane doesn’t remember him, bc he was like an uncle to her? And then omg he says “that summer, in Kalispell, up on Flathead lake” and dude I was literally just there in July??? My friend has friends like an hour from Kalispell and we all went rafting together at Flathead. Yayyy Montana. I love when slightly more obscure places I’ve been get mentioned haha. Jane tries to get him back on track and he just keeps reminiscing. Clearly he knew them when they were pretty young-- he says he did her adoption, so however old they were when Shepherd took them in I guess? Sounds like he wasn’t a huge fan of Shepherd tho which I approve of haha. Too bad he won’t tell them anything about the bomber guy.

Again Patterson and Zapata are having one of their little vibing moments and they realise the suspect must have had a ‘go bag’ somewhere. And Zapata being the kickass FBI and CIA trained badass that she is, realises that it’s hidden in the seat of his car. Lol she even uses the CIA lingo. And then omg Patterson just whips out a butterfly knife from her pocket?? Lord that is so damn cool. I wish I could be cool like her and carry one of those around but alas carrying knives is illegal in my country. Ugh then they find his stuff and high five over it and I just love them so much

Hirst is arguing with some bigwig guy who wants to take away their suspect bc of his other crimes and ugh I could listen to her talk all day. I’m proud of her for saying ‘you all’ and not ‘y’all’ to him haha. Lol Weller tries to tell the dude he can’t take them and errrr Weller I think he’s a little above you on the foodchain, buddy. Anyway Patterson calls them into the lab-- they stuff they found includes a coded ‘black book’ of his transactions. I love that she calls Zapata ‘00Z’ haha. And then they figure out from the cypher thing that the bomber is in Ithaca, bc Patterson is a genius, of course

Uh oh. They’ve arrived at the place in Ithaca and the local fuzz are all over it instead of keeping the perimeter-- they apparently found a bomb which has also supposedly already been disarmed. Well that was quick. Also omg the guy calls Tasha darling and her face is all ‘bitch please’ and Weller shoots her a look like ‘please don’t kill him, please don’t kill him’ lol. And Reade puts a hand out to settle her lol. They get in and it’s a pretty basic bomb, then as the dudes go to lift it Weller realises it’s a decoy and yells for everyone to get out--  and good thing it’s a room with a lot of exits bc Weller and the main cop go through one, Zapata pushes another cop through another, and Reade and Jane go through another. Not sure about the last cop, but he’s probably fine bc ~magic~

Oh now it’s Jane’s turn for the vid. And omg she immediately makes a sex/dirtytalk joke??? Wow girl, you’re really opening up, aren’t you? But ugh she never thought she would have this and she’s so emotional about it and she’s like halfway through a sentence when Weller walks in?? And I know this should be adorable and all but I’m kinda mad about it? Like he already had his chance to share everything he felt without being interrupted, but now whatever she was gonna say is lost bc he felt that he was entitled to butt in?? And then she jokes that he thought she’d run away and he said he’d never let that happen bc he’d ‘never let her out of his sight’ which tbh I do not like??? Firstly it hurts bc she DOES leave, but also it feels kinda weird and possessive and like a ‘you will never be free of me’ kinda thing? Feels more stifling than romantic. But whatevs just gonna let that one slide right on past

Back at the bomb house, Weller is immediately searching for Jane, and belatedly remembering to check on everyone else haha. Zapata emerges, lookin kinda fine with all those soot stains, then a cop stumbles past  and Reade stands up. Assuming the other cop who was saved by Zapata gets out fine, then that just leaves Jane. Who is unmoving on the floor, and ugh Weller’s voice gets all small and wobbly and he’s all ‘no, no’ and goddammit writers can you not? Then she miraculously regains consciousness under his touch and he cups her face in his hands as she tells him she’s okay and then he hugs her to his chest and nope I do not need this in my life please stop

Why do these guys all look so great covered in dirt and soot?? They’re back to the NYO with the news that their bomber guy has a bunch of bomb stuff (surprise!) and is likely planning an attack. They split up and Weller finds Jane in the locker room icing her bruised ribs, and he knows right away that it’s not the injury that’s bothering her-- it’s Roman. Nice hubby senses, Weller. Ooh interesting she says that she doesn't care  about her past bc she finds nothing but pain in it, which makes me feel like this Rossi guy is going to reveal something big and kinda positive to her about her past. And then ugh she says that right now, them, is what she cares about and ughhhh why they gotta be so cute? Tho again I take issue with Weller-- this time with calling her perfect. Jane knows she’s not perfect, so why not say that he loves her as she is, imperfections and all? But whatevs. He promises her a lifetime full of perfect moments though and okay that’s pretty sweet with the heart eyes and the hand kissing and ugh he loves her so much and yet he’s STILL lying about Berlin and I haaaaate it

Oooh we’re back at Roman’s charity event. And ugh Blake is so cute and she’s a good auctioneer and she auctions off a little bracelet and she clearly knows the little girl who made it quite well, and cared about her particularly, I think? And her jokes are so sweet and I love that she gets them to start bidding and then bam here’s ‘Tom’ with a $20,000 bid and says that he ‘likes wishes’ so cutely and omg the way she’s looking at him rn is just so-- Oh no I ship it. Why do I ship this I mean it’s like a terrible idea but wow I do. Oh noooooooooo

Patterson called Zapata to the lab even though their tests re the bomber are still ‘marinating’, because she wants to talk to her about Operation Cuttlefish (aka their investigation into Stuart’s murder) and lol she tries to give a nerdy explanation of cuttlefish’s camouflage ability but Zapata is like ‘good lord just show me’ lol. Turns out a bunch of things have been meddled with and now they both wonder whether there could be another leak in their taskforce. Man, this office is leakier than a damn sieve….

What, Hirst even made a video entry? Really? Ok, I guess. I do love listening to her talk. And lol she says ‘y’all’ this time. Patterson again videobombs with shots and also to inform everyone that she met a guy named Jonathan Walker Blue and that they’re in love and I was literally about to make a comment about how that’s a weird name and that I wanted to hear more about this guy, when I suddenly realised that I’m an idiot and she was referring to Johnnie Walker Blue. The whiskey. Lord that went right over my head the first time haha. Then Hirst goes on to say that they’re an amazing team and even though they’re gonna have hard times, they’ll lean on each other. “To the good times and the bad, may love rule mightily over both” and lbr that’s totally gonna be a theme for the season (and the show as a whole) isn’t it

So they’ve discovered that the bomber is planning to bomb a university in the city within the next hour, and while they were about to waste a lot of time evacuating all the campuses, Patterson discovers that the colours on the materials that the bomber had on his workbench were the same as the colours for the metro university so he must have been making an ID badge for there, giving them their target. And lol Weller is giving all the orders and then is just like ‘okay you heard the boss’ (meaning Reade) and it’s like well I think we all know who is really running the show here…

Aaaaahhh Blake comes to deliver the bracelet personally to Tom bc she has the epic hots for him and omg THIS FLIRTING IS SO FREAKIN SMOOTH I CAN’T. And then she gets all earnest and is trying to ~understand~ him (because she liiiiiiiiiikes him) and ugh they move in closer and there’s more flirting and then he tells her about Tom’s backstory of fighting in Afghanistan and inheriting money from a friend who died and wanting to use it for a good cause and oh god she’s falling like a rock for him and I DIG IT. FOR STUPID MASOCHISTIC REASONS. Seriously gimme more of this, Gero. (Ship name: Take?? Blam?? lol). And then ugh he asks her how the wish bracelet works and then when she explains he ties it on HER wrist and tells her she deserves the wish more than he does and I’m????? So into this???? Which is ridiculous bc it’s all a total lie but damn it’s just so cute and she’s basically swooning and then she offers to buy him a drink and they joke about the open bar and ughhhhhhhhh why. Why must I want this. And then he says he can’t because (sadly) he has a plane to catch and ughhh I’m bummed about it. But then again, the old ‘leave em wanting more’ thing does have merit, so maybe we’ll see…. Oh aaaaand he’s tracking her with a GPS he planted in the bracelet bc the whole thing was a ruse. Of course. Dammit, Roman, why you gotta crush all my dreams

Back at the lab, Patterson realises that Roman gave them the clue to crack the bomber’s manifesto, because all the older manifestos use the same code. Also literally how was anyone meant to crack that code without that very random and specific picture?? But eh. So now they know that the bomb is under the medical building at the university and man that’s just mean. You know how hard it is to evacuate a hospital??? That crap takes forever. But anyway damn Zapata and Reade are looking like a really badass team rn. Zapata gets slammed into the wall by the bomber guy (rude) but Reade shoots him just before he can shoot her. Phew. Unfortunately now this means that Jane and Weller are disarming the bomb on their own….

Lol it’s finally time for drunk!Patterson to get to have her say on the video, and of course she mentions D&D. Apparently Jane is an elf paladin and Weller is a dwarf monk. What’s the bet that Ashley herself chose those characters?  I kinda wanna look up their abilities and characteristics now. And ugh she just loves them and believes they can do anything and she’s just the sweetestttttt

And now Jeller have 80 seconds to disarm the bomb, which has an anti tamper device which requires them to work as a perfect team in order not to set it off haha. Symbolism, symbolism everywhere. Also lol Weller, saying ‘steady’ over and over doesn’t really help buddy. And then they pull each of their wires (as advised by Patterson, bc no one would get through anything without her) at the exact same time, staring at each other as the timer hits zero. Sidenote but anyone here used to watch Castle?? Can’t help but  think of the scene in S3 where Caskett hold hands in front of the bomb and then Castle disarms it by yanking out all the wires. Anyway, different OTP, different time. Then Jane is giving Weller a look and tells him that disarming the bomb with him was kinda hot and he pulls her into his arms and lol they’re getting off on this and Patterson is like ‘Mom! Dad! Stop, I can hear you!’ hahaha. But they don’t care bc they’re already making out haha.

Ooooh the fancy schmancy dude from the other organisation is back to tell them that Rossi escaped from his custody, which they’re all pissed at him for, bc now they have to help fix his screw up. But I only care about Patterson not-very-subtly pulling Zapata away from the bullpen mouthing ‘CUTTLEFISH’ lol. And lolll Zapata's like ‘god I’m the only adult in this place’ haha. Patterson has discovered that the anonymous tip from their last case (the one from Karen about the train crash, I assume, not Rich’s sneaky fake tip lol) was wrongfully marked as low priority on the database-- so someone in the FBI is doing this tampering? Idk I don’t think I’m following along very well lol

Ugh I’m actually mad at Weller for fast forwarding through Patterson’s message on their wedding video??? Like clearly he’s watched it before (probably many times, whilst drunk, and always laughing bitterly at the part where he tells her he won’t let her out of his sight, and ouch I made myself sad) but Jane clearly hasn’t seen it since she asks how long it goes on for. And then they basically ignore the rest of what Patterson’s saying anyway in favour of having a little chit chat. Sigh so rude. It is cute though how Jane is teasing Weller about not ever saying lovely things like in the video. And dude clearly I am wired a little bit oddly but for the split second when he moved fast I almost thought he was going to hit her, which makes no sense at all and once that tiny fraction of a second passed I was like ‘aww he’s playing around with her and being cute and silly, how adorable’ and then I’m sure he was gonna say some more sweet things and then demand apology kisses, but instead suddenly there’s Roman on the screen. And mmmmmm isn’t it symbolic that the two of them, having been all tangled up in each other, suddenly separate when Roman appears?? I see what you did there, Gero. But okay I literally cannot get over Roman’s little decorating effort. Like I know this is supposed to be a grim moment but I am almost wheezing over his lil fairy lights and flowers and handwritten sign?? He could have just appeared in front of a blank wall but nope he is just that Extra. I love him.  Not cool of him to tell Jane she’s broken and tell Weller that their relationship is built on lies, though. But omg he literally toasts them with what I assume is champagne and lol this is hilarious. Err, I mean, it’s terrible, sorry Jeller….

Oooh Zapata wants to hang with Reade for drinks but he tells her he’s already home-- only for her to see him a moment later with fancy schmancy dude from before, and immediately gets all suspicious. My head says we’re supposed to suspect there’s dirty dealings going on but my heart says ‘gay love affair’. Though lbr there could be some dirty dealings involved in that, too lol

A mysterious envelope has been slipped under the Jeller's door. And Jane, seasoned FBI consultant and ninja warrior, just goes right ahead and picks it up with her bare hands. Really? No thought for fingerprints or anthrax or anything? Fine, whatevs. But hold up, it’s from Rossi, about some secret that he thinks she deserves to know.  Weller comes over just as she pulls out some birth records-- and BAM, turns out Rossi organised the adoption not of Remi and Roman, but of Remi’s daughter, 18 years ago. Ohhhhhhh boy. I feel like Gero is actually literally Oprah rn-- you get a daughter! And YOU get a daughter! Daughters for everybody!!!! And as legitimately terrible as this plot decision is, I hate it somewhat less given that Weller’s spawn also exists. I mean, at least instead of just one of them having a child outside the relationship, then now both do, which balances things out a bit? I literally can’t believe I even am in the situation of having to write that sentence but this is where we are now. This is what you did to me, Gero. Ugh.

Well. Interested to see tonight’s ep. Here’s some spoilers you might not have caught yet: Reade’s estranged twin, Duane, comes demanding that Reade donate him his kidney or he’ll die; Zapata falls into a brief coma after a rollerblading accident and awakens only able to speak German; Patterson turns out to be a chihuahua piloting a very convincing android; and Hirst admits that she is actually Canadian and not from the South at all, eh. Can’t wait!

[itssoweirdyoureher]

About Me: A Ramble

@a-collection-of-nonsense tagged me in a post to talk about myself, which is difficult for me because my mind always goes blank when I’m asked about myself. It’s like all of a sudden I know absolutely nothing about the last 23 years of my life? IDK but I’m going to TRY for my new Anti-Adult Adult Club friend! (ALSO I’m confused if your name is Em, or if you were using em like ‘about ‘em’ and ‘em is referring to people in general.) So for clarification sake, my name is Rachel, and I get confused by the simplest of things sometimes.

Appearance:

My appearance is EVER CHANGING. The one standard is my curly hair, which has a mind of its own, but even that has been chilling out recently—oh the joys of age. I dye my hair regularly, so it’s usually red or auburn, but my natural color is brown. I haven’t been blonde since I was like 8?

My glasses have also been a staple of my appearance for about the last 3 years? I used to wear contacts 24/7 and would never let anyone see me in my glasses; however, I had eye surgery and now the idea of putting things in my eyes is a BIG thing, so glasses it is.

I’m 5’5 and a HALF, and am constantly torn between dressing like I’m a NYC socialite in gossip girl and Jessica Jones. I’m usually Jessica Jones.

Personality:

This is the hard part? I’m bad at describing myself. I’m sarcastic and brutally honest, but only if I think someone can handle it at the time. FOR EXAMPLE, my friend was going through a rough break up a few years back, and all he wanted was to be coddled, but I gave him advice that I knew he could use once he wasn’t an emotional mess---but only because I knew he had other people taking care of his emotions etc. at the time; it would have been a different story if I knew he only had me to rely on—then I’d be handing out the spoons and pints of ice cream like Oprah.

I’m pretty cynical (very much like my earlier Jessica Jones reference), but I’m super optimistic when it comes to other people because I care SO much about the people I love—and just helping people in general.

Ability:

I’m really good at mediating, if that’s considered a skill? It appeases my nosiness, but I also love helping people, so I enjoy putting myself in each person’s shoes and explaining their motives/emotions/etc. to the other person.

I also really enjoy editing (aka my life’s passion at this point, so writers hmu ;))

Hobbies:

HAH I have a lot of hobbies that I used to love, but no longer do? I used to play volleyball and ride horses, but chronic pain and a body trying to self-destruct really gets in the way of things like hobbies.

I mostly stick to reading, watching movies/tv shows (yes I consider that a hobby), and playing video games (lol I’m a nerd, but I’m playing the new Zelda game for the switch, and I’M IN HEAVEN).

OH I’m also constantly on the hunt for the best ramen. (I’m a foodie that can’t really cook—it’s a hard knock life).

Experiences:

1.     Graduated college last year after going to exactly 4 different schools, being enrolled at 5, and actually being a full time student at 3 at the same time once.

2.     Had surgery on both of my eyes at the UCLA medical center—which may seem like a weird thing to mention, but it was a defining moment in my life for many reasons.

3.     Tackled my fear and finally visited NYC last year, and even after having my credit card stolen, being followed to my hotel room by a creepy guy, and being there during the terrorist attack, I didn’t hate it.

4.     Made two super awesome friends from high school that I wasn’t actually friends with while I was in high school lol.

5.     Went snowboarding in Canada and parasailing in Hawaii (That’s the coolest I could make myself sound, guys, seriously I’m the most boring person).

6.     Quit my assistant teaching job and moved halfway across the country with my parents to help with my grandpa. 

My life: 

My life...is in limbo right now. I graduated college and am trying to get into the publishing industry, but it is muy difícil. I quit my teaching job and moved across the country over the holidays, so I’m feeling super lost and unsure about my lifeeee (I told you I was a horrible adult). Also, ya know, there’s the whole living with my parents thing going on, which is totally cramping my love life (which has also been non-existent. Thanks, self-destructing body). I’m a FAKE 23 year old, people. I have -100000 of the experiences you should have at my age, but THAT’S OKAY. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself—spread positivity and all that, right?

Random stuff:

·       I used to have 1 horse, 1 pony, 1 goat, 1 pig, 2 cats, 1 dog, 2 birds, and 2 guinea pigs all at the same time. I only have 1 dog, 1 cat, and 2 birds now. My zoo is no longer a zoo.

·       I used to help my sister babysit the ferrets of Sarah Gruen when I was like 4? It was weird, but awesome.

·       My pony, whose name was Mouse, bucked me into a wall once because a chicken spooked him.

·       I am currently deciding whether I want to go back for my masters in English. If anyone has advice and/or lives near a good school and wants a roommate (the economy sucks for real), let me know.

I tag literally anyone who follows me because I want to know more about you (tag me in your posts!).

[serceleste]

my victory over hamlet

I expect everyone who follows me knows about my Hamlet saga because I won’t shut up about it (sorry not sorry) but I really wanted to write down my experience, mostly for me, but I’m sharing it because so many of you have been amazingly supportive all the way through my disastrous first attempt to my eventual victory. So here it is, and if you just want to hear about Oscar and the play you can skip a ways down, lol. 

I wanted to see this play from the moment it was announced. I mean, it’s obvious that I love Oscar’s beautiful face and he just appeals to me in general, but I absolutely love him as a performer. So the idea of seeing him live, in Shakespeare, was just… But I kind of pushed it off, because it would have been an enormous expense. The tickets weren’t cheap, I live halfway across the country so there would be airfare, hotels, Uber/taxi fare, food… I’m not where I thought I would be in life at this particular point so it just didn’t seem feasible.

And then.

The play began. I started hearing about it. And I thought… if I don’t at least try, I’m going to regret it forever. I have far too many regrets in my life for still being young, stemming from my natural introversion and anxiety and from the fact that I have always, always tried to be responsible and level-headed and do what’s expected of me. But I just thought… fuck it. I am going to do something ridiculous for once in my life just because I want to.

The tickets were sold out, obviously, so I started searching for inevitably over-priced secondhand ones. I found one that wasn’t too bad. I found a hostel a mile away from the theater, I booked a flight, I took off work. I went to NYC by myself to see Oscar Isaac play Hamlet.

And then it got cancelled. I was devastated, guys, I think you all know that. The theater employee told me Oscar was ill and I just thought… you know what? That figures. It figures that I would do this crazy thing and it would crash to hell.

So I went back home. I’d had a nice time beforehand exploring parts of the city on my own but the memory of standing there and hearing that lady tell me it was cancelled and going back outside and just… It soured the whole thing.

I called my mother. I told her I was so disappointed that all I could think about was trying to go back. She told me that I should take a few days and let it settle, think about it, but it was my money.

That was Thursday. On Friday I was checking StubHub again and figuring out what day I could make it work. August is our busiest month of the year and a blackout period where no one can take off. Because of my promotion last year I don’t work weekends anymore but in August I do. I thought, okay, I’m working weekends the second half of the month, but if I go just before then, on a Friday evening or Saturday morning, see the play Saturday, and come back on Sunday, that won’t affect anything. Saturday the 12th was squashed right in between undoable time periods and literally the only day all month I thought I could make work.

On Saturday I went back to looking for tickets and flights and the hostel. I found one ticket, more expensive than last time but not overly ridiculous (and I had had my first ticket refunded) for Saturday the 12th. I found plane tickets only slightly higher than before. The hostel was 20 bucks a night more than when I’d stayed during the week but still cheap. I dithered.

Then chelliaphra told me that was the day she and her friend were going, and then she offered to let me stay in their hotel room, and I went !!!!!

I dithered a bit more, the seller upped their ticket price (BASTARD), I bought it anyway. I was going to fucking see this fucking play if it killed me, which seemed better than stewing in regret and disappointment.

This time it was a physical ticket they mailed to me. It arrived and the seller had SCRATCHED THEIR NAME OUT SO IT LOOKED LIKE I FUCKING STOLE IT. I mean, the name on the ticket was bad last time, it gave me anxiety, but at least it was a woman’s name so unless they ID’ed me, which seemed unlikely, it would have been fine. But this was SCRATCHED OUT LIKE I STOLE IT OH MY GOD. I had to call StubHub because I was freaking out. StubHub, or at least the woman I spoke with, has excellent service and made me feel better. I was still going to freak out until my butt was actually in my seat in the theater, but I felt reassured.

My dad’s reaction was the greatest. I told him, hey, so you know how I went to New York to see a play and the play was cancelled? Well, I bought another ticket and I’m going back. My dad just went, ‘oh no’. LMAO. Then he said he hoped it was a hell of a play and I was too embarrassed to admit that I cared less about what the play was than who was in it. :D (I mean, Oscar could have been in the shittiest production of fuck knows what and I would have wanted to see it.)

So I went back to NYC! I was so anxious I was nauseous, I slept maybe 4 or 5 hours, I got up at 3:30 am Saturday morning to catch my flight. I wandered around midtown partly to pass the time, partly to do the tourist thing because it was a different part of the city from what I’d seen last time, and partly to distract myself from how badly I was freaking out, to minor success.

I met chelliaphra and brehaaorgana, who were totally lovely (and I know this wasn’t your intent but thanks for actually making me eat! I was in NYC roughly 48 hours last time and ate exactly one actual meal, and I know myself enough to know I would not have eaten at all this time if I hadn’t been with you so thank you, lol) and we went to our hotel, which was AMAZING, I will never stay anywhere that nice again for the rest of my life, I am sure. Yay accidental free upgrades! \o/ There was a pillow menu!!

I got my period in the hotel, of course, which helped contribute to my severe nausea, like, omg, I was dying. I was so anxious over everything, over my ticket, over the play actually happening, over every stupid thing I could be anxious about. No even the truly magnificent comic book store (next to door to the magnificent bookstore I explored last time) could do much for me.

Actually arriving at the Public made me feel worse, if that can be believed, I was having flashbacks of how utterly shitty I had felt, looking at the corner where I’d called my mom and cried, remembering how fucking horrible I had felt walking down the street and figuring out what the hell I was going to do now. Thankfully we didn’t pass the awful bench I’d sat on feeling miserable, lol, before I walked to the park and wrote fanfic.

We took obligatory pics next to the poster of Oscar. We went inside. I was dying. Chelliaphra went with me to the desk to see if they could reassure me about the ticket but mostly it was down to StubHub. The announcement that the doors had opened came over the speaker and we went up so at least if there was a problem I’d be at the front. I thought I might vomit.

When the woman scanned my barcode and the “good!” beep happened I almost cried I was so relieved, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard in my life.

And then my butt was in the seat!!!!! It was fine!!! I was going to see the play!!!!

Chelliaphra and brehaaorgana had seats in the front row and my jealousy was epic, tbh, but honestly I was so happy just to actually be there, after everything, that I would have stood in the doorway or something and thought that was good enough. The theater was very small, anyway, so all the seats felt pretty intimate. I was in the first row at the top of one of the aisles so it was actually rather nice, though I did end up having a bad angle for a little bit of it, Oscar had his back to me for one of the really key emotional scenes, which was a bummer, but whatever.

And the play! If you are looking for a critical evaluation of the play, this is not it. I had never seen Hamlet performed before and I read it once in school but that was a while ago. The closest I’ve come to seeing it was watching the movie version of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, lol. I had zero expectations of how it should be.

I fucking loved it. It was wild. It clearly was a non-traditional staging and I dug every minute of it. Oscar was phenomenal. Just… OMG. He is such a brilliant performer and seeing him live was something else, I will never forget it. He has so much energy and intensity and he knew how to play to the entire room; he made you feel like he cared about every person in the audience and he made eye contact with EVERYONE, no matter how crappy your seat was.

He speaks Shakespeare as naturally as you or I would speak to each other, like it’s how he normally talks, so it feels conversational and everyday. You forgot he was actually speaking Shakespeare because it just rolled off his tongue as if that’s how he always speaks. His comedic timing is SO GOOD, I did not know Hamlet could be that funny. He pushed troll!Hamlet to a whole new level. His gestures, his body language, everything. A few favorite moments were when he makes this mocking kissing gesture to his mother, and when he was running around dragging Polonius’ body in a sheet before stowing it in the audience, and the ‘may I lay my head in your lap’ bit, when he’s joking about his, uh, parts, and he just like raises his leg up and gestures and I died for multiple reasons. I also loved the use of the comfy sweater, Ophelia wears it, and then throws it back at Hamlet when she’s returning his gifts, and then Hamlet wears it.

And he was so moving, dear lord. Watching him play Hamlet’s grief and loss was incredible. Knowing that he lost his mother this year really gave it an extra emotional impact, because you know that had to have informed his performance, I mean, the thrust of the play is the loss of Hamlet’s father. (Also I would just like to say that I was attacked by the playbill, like, it literally says the play is dedicated to Oscar’s mother, and in his little bio bit it says it again, ‘dedicated to my mother’, GOD I HATE FEELINGS.) When he cried it was impossible not to cry with him, he was so heartbreaking and moving. You could literally hear the sniffling across the audience. The scene where he sees his father’s ghost was amazing, and he was so good in Act Two in the big emotional part with Gertrude.

And, you know, Oscar with blood on his face is the most Extra.

Everyone knows about the lasagna but watching it was… I mean, he sat on a table and railed at a tray of lasagna with a knife and you could not look away, and when he says, ‘why what an ass am I,’ it was like you could finally breathe again.

(The lasagna was an A+ prop, btw, for the way Oscar murders it and for the way Ophelia just digs into it post-spurning Hamlet. And my friends informed me it smelled amazing, lol.)

And, yes, he spends a lot of time in his underwear (very small well-fitted underwear that sometimes rode up a bit one side and obviously I noticed, sorry not sorry). Um. He looked great in it. His ass is FINE, and I feel like this post would be lacking if I didn’t call attention to that. (He killed the lasagna in his underwear, for the record.) There was a bit in Act Two when he was watching the players where he was leaning over the back of a chair just in front of where I was sitting and that was indeed a perfect angle because DAMN. His shirt fell down to cover the front most of the time but yeah, that was not bad either, lol (and my friends confirm the answer to the question is cut, in case you were wondering). But all that being said, he was running around in his underwear and you couldn’t not look but he is also just such a fantastic performer that he was in his underwear and you were still mesmerized by the actual performance. Also I just liked it as a dramatic interpretation, I mean, he comes out when Hamlet’s meant to be a bit mad, no pants, a toilet seat protector around his neck, his hair sopping, reading the newspaper. It worked. Later on when he’s dressed again he whips the sweats back off to show his madness (or, as can be debated, his “madness”) again and I just really bought it.

Plus, he sang! Having never seen it, and only read it the once, I have no idea if that’s common practice or if it was just Oscar (I feel like it was just Oscar??), but I Approve. God his voice is lovely, I have witnessed Oscar singing in person, I can die happy.

Also I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about his hair because it’s me, hair is my thing, and Oscar’s hair… It was shorter but it was on point, and let me tell you, his hair just does that naturally. You know what I mean. It got wet a bunch of times and he would run his hands through it and it just curls like that, like, ridiculous, his hair is fucking amazing.

Of course I was there for Oscar but I greatly enjoyed the cast in general. I thought Gertrude and Claudius were amazing playing off each other and off Oscar, Ophelia was lovely (and what a beautiful voice!), Polonius was especially amusing in his ‘imparting wisdom’ bits (and looool at the bathroom as set piece), I really liked Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and Laertes was from Preacher! The gravediggers were played by Ophelia and Polonius and they were very funny. Ophelia knocked me in the head with her potted plant when she came down the aisle to cover Polonius with dirt and flowers and I felt blessed, lol.

But Keegan-Michael Key, OMG. What a fabulous actor. I knew he would be hilarious but I wasn’t expecting to be moved quite so much by his drama, his closing lines were especially good. I loved how much they played up the Hamlet/Horatio relationship, all the face touching, dear lord, and Oscar kissed him on the mouth! I kinda ship it now, tbh. I know Hamlet/Horatio fic exists and I feel like this performance should inspire more, lol.

But, you know, I have to note the play within a play, the reenactment of the murder of the king to try to provoke Claudius, with Keegan as the king and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern as the faux Gertrude and Claudius. It was EPIC. They were all great, with their large, overdrawn movements, but Keegan was… The audience was in hysterics watching his over-played parody of a death, and damn if he didn’t go Extra for us. Oscar was sitting there covering his face to try to hide that he was laughing (we all saw you Oscar) and you could just see his OH MY GOD. Keegan did a ‘thank you!!’ to us at the end.

Oh, and the cellist! There was a cellist playing background music and they used him quite amusingly at times, like when Claudius basically tells him to fuck off.

For the gravediggers scene, Oscar and Keegan came down the aisle to sit in the audience, and Oscar was perfectly diagonal to my seat and let me tell you, his eyelashes are INCREDIBLE. So fucking long. Ridiculous. How is he real, seriously. But that was an impressive bit, Oscar is stunning in the famous ‘Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him, Horatio’ monologue, and the actual funeral, fucking hell, he killed it and he killed me, and the way it cuts out after he and Laertes have just wrestled over the burial ground with Horatio trying to stop it and Hamlet is just lying there clutching Ophelia to himself killed me again.

And there was fencing, of course! I loved the fencing. Oscar put on the white shirt with the codpiece thing and I approved. Damn the fencing was excellent. And obviously then it was sad because it’s Hamlet and everyone dies. The finale was all rather gutting, good job all around.

So the play was wild and I loved it in a very non-judging way, I was just immensely entertained and I loved the cast and Oscar was fucking phenomenal. Obviously we gave them all a standing ovation.

I feel like I should mention now just how fucking tired I was. By this point I’d been awake about 20 hours on almost no sleep, and had spent the day an anxious, nauseous wreck. I was SO TIRED. OMG.

THEN. OSCAR. We asked an usher about seeing the actors and she told us that unfortunately, if we were hoping to see Mr. Isaac, he usually didn’t stay on Saturday nights. So we were bummed and went outside to find somewhere to get food. But I had to pee horribly so I went back inside and I won’t lie, I was totally taking my time because I was thinking maaaaaaybe, maybe if I stay long enough he actually will come out, or maybe the other actors will, and then I came out and thought damn, it’s louder than when I went in, and there was a crowd, and I looked, and THERE WAS OSCAR OH MY GOD OMG!!!!!!!!!

Chelliaphra and brehaaorgana had already come back in on account of the commotion so yay! We waited for Oscar! There were so many people! He looked fucking exhausted! I felt so bad, actually, at taking up his time when he probably wanted to go eat and be face first in his bed, but he was such a sweetheart and stayed and smiled for everyone, he was so lovely and gracious.

I tried taking some pics of him standing there but there were seriously so many people. But I got my moment! He was so nice!! He smiled at me and made eye contact and John Boyega is 10000000% correct, it is really hard to look away from his face, he is so damned handsome. Like, fuck. He is a beautiful man. No one should be that beautiful in real life, it is unreal, like, you look at celebrities and you know there’s make-up, there’s photoshop and airbrushing, but goddamn, he is so beautiful up close. SO BEAUTIFUL. Also he smells great. And he is so small! I did not expect him to be so small! Like, I knew he wasn’t actually very tall but it’s just startling in person how small he actually is, he’s just tiny and compact and cute, I love him.

So it is a miracle I actually formed words. I was so nervous my hand was shaking and my brain would not function properly, IDK, partly how tired I was, partly how shy I am, partly OSCAR ISAAC IS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME FUUUUUUUCK. I also was so anxious not to bother him any more than I already was, or take up more of his time, because I felt so bad, he looked so tired and he was being so sweet, I felt guilty at bothering him. So I really barely could make myself say anything beyond asking for what I wanted and thanking him five thousand times, I don’t even know if I ever told him how much I loved the play, like, damn, I hope I did.

He took a pic with me, I think you’ve already all seen it!! I stood right next to Oscar and he took a pic with his face next to my face!!! And he totally signed my Kylo Ren journal, that is full of fanfic, a good deal of which is Poe/everyone, I am deeply, deeply amused by this. I had originally wanted him to sign my playbill too but I felt guilty asking so I just got the journal. I’d thought about bringing a Poe comic for him to sign, maybe the #1 variant that has him on the cover, but it wouldn’t fit in my purse and I had like this tremendous embarrassment at the idea of having to carry it around and keep it on my lap during the play (I was already a bundle of anxious nerves so this probably sounds stupid to everyone else but I just did not need the added anxiety), so the journal worked because I always have it in my purse anyway, and it just really really amused me to have Oscar Isaac sign my Kylo Ren fanfic journal. I half want to never touch it again because I’m afraid of wrecking it but I also want to, like, write something particularly trashy in it now, haha. (Of course, a lot of what it currently contains is plenty trashy!!) Because I am an awkward dork when I went to the comic shop and was struggling to think of something to say to not-boyfriend beyond ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ I blurted out some nonsense about wondering if he knew how to take care of autographs, and I ended up showing him my Oscar Isaac signed Kylo Ren journal (WHY AM I LIKE THIS I HATE MYSELF), but I might take his suggestion and put it in one of my comic protector bags.

Oh, also! He was wearing that backpack he always has, that he clips in the front like a 5 yo whose mom made him do it except he’s a grown ass man and chooses to do it, he is so adorable and dorky, I love him.

As we were leaving we saw Gayle Rankin (Ophelia) by the door so we stopped and talked to her and she signed our playbills. I’m a bit bummed we didn’t see anyone else but tbh, Keegan-Michael Key could have been standing right next to me and I would not have noticed because OSCAR OH MY GOD.

We found out later that Lupita Nyong’o had been there too, and I’m so sad I didn’t see her, her bone structure is sooooo lovely, it would have been so cool to see her beautiful face in person, plus I think she and Oscar are so cute. But alas. I suppose at least I can say I was in the same room as Lupita!

So we went for pizza (again, thanks for making me eat guys, even if you didn’t know you were doing it!) and went back to the amazing fancy hotel and I sent my pic to like everyone I know, and I was just so blindingly happy, and I was fucking exhausted but I was so hyped I barely slept anyway, I would doze a little and go back on Tumblr and doze a little and text my mom, it was ridiculous, lol.

And that was my adventure with Hamlet and Oscar! It was so stressful and I was ridden with anxiety and I spent way too much money I shouldn’t have spent and at times it was crushingly disappointing, but in the end it all worked out and I had an amazing time, definitely one of my greatest experiences ever that I will cherish forever. I’m so glad I got to meet chelliaphra and brehaaorgana, as much of an introvert as I am and as much as I did like wandering around NYC on my own without any socialization pressure, it was so great getting to nerd out with them over Oscar and the play and they made it so much more fun. Plus, I appreciated the moral support when I was dying beforehand, lol. Thank you so much to everyone who put up with me through this whole thing, when I was freaking out and when I was miserable and when I was exploding with nerdy joy. <3 I’m sorry this is so long! I feel like I am leaving things out anyway!

Bottom line: OSCAR ISAAC IS BEAUTIFUL AND A FANTASTIC ACTOR AND A LOVELY HUMAN BEING AND HE HAS A GREAT ASS.

Sometimes being utterly ridiculous and just saying ‘fuck it’ totally works out, guys!

[midnightlie]

oh look another oliness fic actually, this is more of a scene that would fit probably pretty nicely somewhere much later down the line. it’s cute fjflksfd and it doesn’t really have too much direction but its CUTE

this is completely sfw btw!!!! also a couple notes:

-PDA makes nessa so embarrassed lol -Oliver speaks Aelish, a language from the country of Aelia, which is where this takes place

i think that’s about it lol i hope u enjoy it!

*****

She wonders how Oliver would kiss her if there was no reason to hold back.

Nessa draws forth the memory of how he looked today. He’d been wearing a loose, white shirt with short sleeves and a slight v-neck to give him better mobility as he swung his sword around to parry off Adam’s blows. He’d carried a smug air of confidence and it was incredible, she thought, how he was able to hold his own so well against someone she knew was military trained. His slick brown skin had been warm with the flush of exercise. Even now, she can still hear the chorus of his laughter as he stumbled and narrowly missed being cuffed by Adam’s sword.

She shivers. He hadn’t known she’d been watching - Nessa hadn’t even meant to stop and stare. She was merely passing the training yard on her way to the stables when she saw him. He was mesmerizing and he’d made her weak. All she could do was remember how good it feels to kiss him, how he graciously responds to her touch, the way he chases after her even as she pulls away to breathe.

He kisses her like he is starving and it is a slow, greedy thing. Her heart shudders as the memories spark a wave of pleasure. It ripples over her skin and down to the very pit of her stomach where it settles, warm and low. She groans to herself and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and rubs, as if to wipe away the thought of Oliver’s whispered encouragements, his strong hands, his attentive mouth…

She sighs as the ghost of his hand slides over her hip and back up, as the memory of his thumb strokes her collarbone, and tilts her head back so that he can kiss her chin, her jaw. Nessa touches the lacing of her bodice at her stomach, follows the line of it with her fingertips up and down her torso.

For so long, all her energy has been spent on thinking about her next move and how to deal with the loss she’s faced. It feels strange to indulge in her own feelings for once, and now that she has, she doesn’t want to hold them back. Nessa stares at him from between a couple of books on the bookshelf. The arid heat drifts in from the open windows, ruffling her short hair, and the collar of his shirt.

He looks so damn good and all he��s doing is reading a book, for heaven’s sake. She’d have made herself known already if she wasn’t so choked up with such a bottomless hunger. She doesn’t want to come on too strong, lest he pull away and tell her to slow down.

Oliver’s posture is so relaxed, his expression soft and inviting. She takes a deep breath and nods to herself before slipping around the edge of the bookshelf and revealing her presence. He hasn’t even gotten a chance to glance up before she’s sitting down on the cushion beside him. The sun streaming in through the open window kisses her neck with heat and she leans into his shoulder.

“Hey, Freckles,” he says fondly, not the least bit startled as she curls her feet up beside her. He only spares her a fleeting glance though, kissing the top of her forehead and wrapping an arm around her shoulders before looking back down at his book.

Not exactly the reaction she was looking for, but not a bad start. She shifts so that she can press up far enough to kiss his cheek, lingering, tracing the opposite side of his jaw with her fingertip. A smile stretches her lips when she feels the exact moment she’s caught his attention, moving them slowly along his jaw toward his chin.

“Nessa?” he murmurs, curling his arm tighter around her.

Her eyes drift close as she wanders down the length of his neck, pushing aside the collar of his shirt. “Keep reading if you like,” she whispers, nosing his throat slightly. The smell of his skin is all heat and salt and sun and it fills her with heady pleasure. Her hand smooths down the front of his shirt and she tentatively draws her tongue across his collarbone.

He makes a soft noise of surprise at her forwardness and she feels him shift under her, putting his book aside. She wants to make him as crazy as he makes her, so her hand slides back up to cup the side of his neck as she works her mouth back to his jaw. The fire under her skin flares up when he turns his shoulders towards her and touches her wrist softly.

“Nessa?” he tries again, but his breath catches just slightly at the end of her name.

“Shhhh,” she replies. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind,” he says, laughter bubbling up in his voice. “Come here.” He shifts them, pulling her onto his lap for better access. She feels like purring when his hand strokes down her side, leaning into his touch like a love-starved cat. Even the most casual of touches feel sensual coming from him.

“Any particular reason you find me particularly irresistible today?” he wonders softly as she nuzzles his neck, kissing him just under his ear.

“Your effervescent charm, of course,” she teases with a hum, almost gasping when his hand skates very low on her lower back.

“But I’m always charming.” He grins and pulls her tight against his chest before swooping down to kiss her. Finally, finally, she’s gotten what she wanted. While he’s being sweet, she still feels distance. She knows that he holds back out of consideration for her - she’s confused, and things have been so hard lately. But Nessa has decided at last that she cannot stand another moment without knowing what it truly means to be kissed by Oliver.

She makes a noncommittal sigh of pleasure and wraps her other arm around his neck, drawing herself as close as she can. He smiles against her mouth and she catches him off guard when she hikes up her skirts and shifts so that she can spread her legs and straddle him. In her enthusiasm, the top of her sleeve slips off her shoulder.

She licks the swell of his bottom lip, eagerly setting the pace as he opens his mouth to her. It’s only a moment later that he groans into her, as if he’s never been more satisfied in his entire life. The sound travels down to the pit of her belly and out to the tips of her toes, igniting an itch under her skin only he can scratch.

He kisses down the side of her face to her exposed shoulder as she catches her breath. “You smell so good, Princess,” he murmurs, voice low and warm like thunder.

She runs a hand through his cropped hair, his hands sliding lower than the divot at the end of her spine. Under his touch, she trembles and buries her face against the crook in his neck. “So do you,” she replies shakily.

He hums. “I’m halfway convinced you’re here because you’re looking for something in particular,” he tells her, kissing her shoulder. “What do you want?”

It’s almost embarrassing, she thinks, but Oliver has a record for giving her exactly what she asks for. She gets a smile in her voice even as her cheeks become flushed. “I...I just want you to kiss me,” she nearly whispers, her voice breaking.

His hand strokes down the length of her spine, his tone softening. “I am kissing you, Princess.”

“More,” she says, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, blushing. “Not like...I just mean I don’t want you to hold back anymore.”

He touches her face gently, tucking a tuft of her hair behind her ear. The stars in his eyes when he looks at her makes her feel wholly ethereal. “We have plenty of time to get there,” he tells her. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

She frowns and presses her forehead to the ridge of his eyebrow as she looks down, playing with the collar of his shit. “But I love you,” she says in a small voice.

He sighs blissfully and squeezes her tighter. “I love you, too.”

Her voice shakes a bit. “I don’t want to wait,” she tells him softly, feeling far too vulnerable. How had her ambush on him turned into exactly the kind of rebuttal she didn’t want? Still, she has to admit that this kind of emotional intimacy is fulfilling, too. She still clings to him and he doesn’t seem to be letting her go anytime soon either.

“I do,” he murmurs. “Is that okay?”

When he puts it that way, the idea of begging him to do something he doesn’t want makes her feel gross. “Of course,” she says.

“Someday, when things are better, I’ll take you to bed and kiss you as much as you’d like,” he tells her. “Wherever you’d like. I promise.”

She threads her fingers gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. His words, while as gentle and innocent as they can possibly be, send a shiver down her spine. She knows he feels it because his lips curl into a smile.

“I love you,” she says again, because what else can she say? He shifts as though to lean back in for another kiss when the library door opens and someone comes walking in. They immediately spot Nessa curled up on Oliver’s lap and apologize. At least, she thinks they’re apologizing. They haven’t been in Aelia long, so she hasn’t had any time to learn any of the language yet, but her voice seem to be rueful, even with a humorous lilt to it.

Nessa hides her face in his neck out of embarrassment, but doesn’t crawl off him. His arm tightens around her waist and he replies to what might be a teasing jab with good-natured irritation. Even though she’s embarrassed to have been caught in such an inappropriate, intimate scene, her heart soars. She can stay with him. She can be with him. For the first time, the reality of that statement has started to sink in.

After another moment of exchanged words, the woman laughs and leaves the library, shutting the doors behind her.

“That was Arissa,” Oliver says after a moment. “She says dinner will be ready shortly.” After a pause, he adds. “I’ve never seen you so shy.”

“That woman saw us like this,” Nessa says, as though its the most scandalous thing she can imagine. She pulls back again so that she can see his face and he’s smiling at her.

“Aelia’s traditionally a bit more lenient about public affection than Wisteria,” he says. “No one is going to scold you for touching a boy.”

She laughs and leans in to kiss his cheek. “Lucky boy.”

His eyes glitter. “Indeed. What do you say we get washed up for dinner?”

Nessa slides off his lap a bit reluctantly so that he can stand, but takes his hand immediately when he offers it. “Will you teach me some Aelish after we eat?” she asks. If they’re going to be hiding in this country, she ought to at least attempt to learn a few words in their language.

He smiles with all the warmth of a sun. “Sure.”

[midorichan10]

Moments I have witnessed intense KnB fans in Japan

Upon request here’s my post of personal experiences I’ve seen or been in that show how Japanese KnB (mainly Akashi) fans are that you probably won’t see too often back in your home country.  *If you are one of these fans, I’m not saying stop doing it or you shouldn’t do it, but just be responsible and don’t neglect other priorities and don’t inconvenience others...and be reasonable. Also these are things I’m not used to seeing so for me it’s quite eyebrow-raising. Thanks. 

Fans with multiple and intense ita-bags (bags with character merch usually dedicated to 1-2 characters)

Many people cover every inch of their bags with badges/straps of a character and I’ve seen some intense Akashi ones. Also they many have duplicates of the same badges and I’ve seen people who have like THREE bags they take to J-world or an event.  *(I also have my own itabag and I know other Tumblr users have their own as well. And I can say, those are normal and I wouldn’t classify them as the ‘crazy’ bags I’ve seen)

Fangirl logic in Japan as said by someone in an interview: The more you spend on rare merch of a character you like the more you love them, or something. Hence why girls collect 50 duplicates or more

Girl spending over $600 on Akashi Newstyle badges

Last year they had NewStyle badges which were from a lottery/kuji at certain arcades. You could choose who you wanted so buy the time I got up to try all the Akashi ones were gone. The Akashi badges in particular were VERY expensive on auction. A two-badge set went on average at the time like $60. It would’ve been cheaper but there was this ONE girl (same girl because the username was the same) who kept BUYING THEM ALL OR WINNING ALL THE AUCTIONS. I had the auction pages saved (since I was keeping an eye on them while I was bidding) and I calculated the total of the ones she won and it went over $600....

I eventually got my own set for $90........

Also pretty sure I’ve seen the acutal girl because she had like 40 New Style badges on her bag and these weren’t common badges compared to the usual KnB ones from J-World......she also had 3 intense Akashi bags and I see her frequently..

Fans spending TONS of money to get a high rank in Cross Colors.

There is no hack or cheat people literally do spend hundreds of dollars to get a high rank for a 5 star Avatar in Cross Colors. I’ve seen the same people try one event after another so it’s not like they save up for months and then go all out. Fans do this for other game apps too like Ensemble Stars. 

Girl hyperventilating at the site of an Akashi lifesize cardboard cutout (I’m not exaggerating, she was holding up the line to take pictures)

Girl hugging a Kuroko cutout as if she was embracing him romantically and looking into each other’s eyes. (not the typical let me take a picture with him because I can sort of thing)

Fans being over the top seeing a guy in an Akashi mask/costume at J-World.

I just wanna say first of all, even his hands are gloved and since it’s a mask, he can’t talk. Think of it like Mickey at Disneyland or any other mascot

I’ve seen a girl actually trying to strike a conversation with him and all he could do was stare back and nod and gesture her to move on because she was holding up the line.

I’ve seen another girl jumping up and down in front of him showing off how she got the Akashi movie clearfile. Again not much of a reaction from him. 

When I got a picture with him, there were girls peeping at him from behind the backdrop like some stalkers.....it was really unsettling....

When he walks around J-World, he ALWAYS WITHOUT FAIL has a herd of fangirls following him trying to take pictures of him, and I know some of those girls are J-World regulars and already have a pic with him. One time the guy was going back to the staff area but they had to do one last round of pictures because the girls would’t leave him alone. 

This is probably a thing in multiple fandoms and even back at home but KnB stageplay tickets selling out within 10 min. And a lot of those tickets were bought merely to just be resold at a much higher price. And that was just for the first play.

People going to Jump Festa and sleeping overnight in line when you’re not supposed to but guess the staff allowed it anyway....I went at 3:30am so I could get a shot at the limited KnB Merch and I barely got them...

I’ll also add people buying KnB merch not even for themselves but for the sake of selling. How do I know? For example the Oreshi Puni Puni doll is limited to only two per customer and then I see on auction the same day one seller selling two of them. Unless they asked their friend to pick it up too so they could sell for money but I feel that’s still pretty bad and unfair to those who actually wanted it.Also seen people sell like 40 KnB Jump Festa keychains...which by the way sold out.  

GIrls (specifically girls) shove you and knock you over to get in line for the goods even when staff members are there demanding you line up calmly and no running. I had one girl fully jab me in my arm with her shoulder to get ahead of me. 

Last year’s Jump Festa had an exclusive Akashi wall scroll that sold out in less than 30 min despite the limit they set per person. The original price was about $32. I found one on auction for $100 and bought it right away. Sad thing is, that was the cheapest. Later when everyone else decided to put their own scrolls up for auction they went super high like $300-500 if I remember. I remember one auction it was a fight between three buyers and then it got down to two buyers and they kept outbidding each other and the auction got extended for 2 extra hours because they wouldn’t stop bidding. (Yahoo auctions only end if there are no bids in the last 5 min otherwise they automatically get extended for another 10 min). Ending price was at almost $700, or if not it WAS $700 depending on the currency exchagne rate. 

Girls trying to compete with you on how much goods you have

My friends and I were at J-World just chilling at a table resting and these two Japanese girls walk by and one of them points at my Akashi bag and shows her friend. They weren’t in my line of sight but my friends who could see them from our table said that the other girl sat down and started pulling out ALL of her Easter Akashi merch ranging from badges, straps, putting on her decked out Easter Akashi lanyard, and displaying them on their table. I was just sitting there talking and my bag was just casually on a chair because we had space for it....I wasn’t trying to start anything. And it was very clear that she had more merch than me anyway so I don’t get why it was necessary to show that she is clearly the “winner.” 

Jealous fans who won’t stop staring at you

Example of this was when my friend and I were at a KnB Cafe. There was a mini game the staff did halfway through where you try to match the same picture as them and if you’re in the top 5 (I think) you get a special sparkly holograph coaster of a random character. My friend managed to be one of the lucky ones but the coaster you get is random. My friend luckily drew the capsule that had the Akashi coaster so she gave it to me. Once someone picks that capsule the staff doesn’t put it back in the box so in other words no other winner can get an Akashi coaster. One Akashi fan across the room kept creepily staring at me after that because her friend also won a coaster but because the staff came to us first, her friend had zero chance of getting Akashi. That girl kept staring at me for awhile and it was quite unsettling....

Fans declaring they love Akashi more than anyone else

I actually saw someone’s profile on Cross Colors that said that....

Last year for Valentine’s, the Jump Store had a lottery campaign where if you tweeted a picture of a Valentine’s Card you got from them and tagged it with whatever hashtag it was, then you can be entered for a KnB poster lottery of your choice. One girl literally made an account just for this on twitter and spammed every hour a post so she could try to get the Akashi poster. Now that’s not the worst part. Each post had some sort of sentence of her declaring her love for Akashi and how she loved him more than anyone else in the world (she actually said ‘world’). How she only thought of him ever since she “met” him 3 years ago. She even jokingly said as a reference to Akashi’s phrase, “If I don’t get that Akashi poster I won’t forgive you Jump Store lol” at least I hope it was a joke. 

If you just google image search 赤司部屋 (Akashi room) you can see how dedicated some fans can be into decorating every inch of their room with Akashi merch....literally every inch....though I’ve seen rooms like that for other characters too and other series. 

You’d think fans would be happy that you like the same character as you right? Or everybody in Japan is nice? Well, sadly for Akashi fans that’s not the case a lot of the time. When it comes to showing off merch on twitter fans seem pretty chill but when it comes to actually getting the goods and in person, well.....good luck....

So that’s my report of personal experiences of crazy KnB fans within my 3 years of Japan. I really wished I was making these up but I don’t think I ever could. Here’s to hoping none of you guys have to experience these XD;

[allyinthekeyofx]

Fading Light 1/24

Fading Light AllyinthekeyofX Summary: Scully's cancer returns and hope comes at a high price. Notes: I wrote the first 6 chapters to this way back in 2001 and just never finished it....until last year. Yay me! lol PART ONE Prologue My Father once told me that secrets are like old wounds. That no matter how skilfully we hide the scars, they are still there, lingering beneath the surface. Invisible to the eye, but all too obvious if we take the time to really feel them. There are no good secrets. Even the ones we hide in our hearts to protect the people we love will eventually find a way to push themselves up through the layers of deception. I've discovered that we can never hope to protect through lies and after all, isn't a secret just another name for a lie? Semantics Mulder would laugh if he could hear me now. Arguing with myself as I lay, eyes wide open, staring up at the patterns made by the street lamps refracted through the rain that streams down my window. I'm not sure what time it is. I don't seem to sleep much, which is strange, because all I want to do at this moment is close my eyes and sink down into its welcoming arms. To escape from the accusatory voices in my head for a short while would be wonderful, but I just can't seem to relax enough. If I'm honest with myself though, I'm well aware of the reason for my insomnia. It is guilt; pure and simple. I have a secret, and no matter how often I tell myself that I am keeping it from him to protect him, I still feel its presence every minute of every day. I keep it hidden because in doing so I am attempting to shield him from a truth he is ready to neither hear nor accept. Every day I keep the truth from him is another day spent tiptoeing around him, so afraid that he will look into my eyes and see my lies. It was easy in the beginning. Mulder was still shattered over the death of his Mother and I was there for him as he fell apart piece by harrowing piece, supporting him as he has supported me throughout our partnership. I watched over him like the proverbial mother hen as his quest threatened to take him over the edge, ready to drag him back should the need have arisen. For once he didn't need me to catch him and as each day passed he learned more facts behind his sister's disappearance and finally, finally I was rewarded when he came back to me. Not entirely at peace sure - we have seen and experienced too much for that ever to happen - but I saw the stress literally roll off him as, in his own words, he was set free. How can I take that sense of peace away from him now? I have remained silent, promising myself, as I promise myself now, that tomorrow I will tell him. It's ironic in a way, because even I don't believe it anymore. XXXXXXXXX Chapter 0ne Mulder is not in the sweetest of moods. He tries his best to hide it, but it was obvious from the moment he arrived flustered and dishevelled at my door this morning. I'm not sure exactly why we started this whole car pool thing. It certainly wasn't out of any sense of wanting to save the planet, it just kind of happened. I had offered Mulder a ride home one night when he was without his car - I can't remember why he was without it - and he decided it was only right and proper to return the favour. It seems to have set a pattern now that neither of us is willing to break, and it's strange really, but I kind of enjoy it. I like the fact that his face is the first one that greets me every morning. Usually I like it that is. But on days like today, when he is edgy and tense, I wish to hell I could just make him stop the damn car so I can escape out in to the clogged Washington streets and hail a cab. We have hardly spoken during the ride in, just the barest early morning pleasantries. No small talk, no innuendo, no teasing glances. In fact, so far all Mulder has given me is the charming view of his set profile as he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. We are running late for the office, which is never a good thing, especially not today. Today is the second Wednesday in the month. Second Wednesdays mean inter-departmental meetings. Which in turn usually mean bureaucratic scrutiny of our recently submitted expense reports. I hate the meetings almost as much as Mulder does. The difference being, that I don't tend to show it quite as blatantly. But at least we no longer have to suffer the dubious pleasure of AD Kersch as we attempt to justify flying halfway across the country on nothing more substantial than some redneck's sighting of lights in his cow field. Skinner is no less forgiving when we balls things up, but he’s more used to it and therefore more accepting of it. Mulder mutters something under his breath as the car in front slows down to a virtual crawl. I don't bother trying to figure out what it was. The very fact that we are attempting to negotiate rush hour traffic pretty much tells me that whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant and certainly has no need for a response from me. So instead, I just lean my head against the seat rest and close my eyes against the headache that is beginning to pulse at the centre of my forehead. I think that the headaches were the first clear sign that something wasn't right, although for a couple of weeks I was able to pretty much deny their existence. Self-denial is a powerful force, a bit like encasing a broken ankle in a plaster cast. The pain is gone, pushed in to the background, and it's almost impossible to imagine that the broken bone ever happened at all. Until of course you walk on it at the wrong angle and the pain is back to remind you to take more care. That's how it was with me. Only my versions of the plaster cast were non-prescription pain pills. Until they weren't enough, even when foolishly, I was taking well over the required dosage. And then came the day when I couldn't deny it any longer. I remember it vividly. A Saturday spent shopping with my Mother I was in so much pain I could hardly stand. She noticed of course and I remember making vague assurances that I was fine, made my excuses and headed for home. I made it through the door, watched as the room began to spin in that endearing way I had come to recognize from scant years back in the early manifestations of the disease, and woke up three hours later on the floor, still clutching my house keys in my hand. I wish now with all my heart that I had answered the basic need that pounded incessantly in my head. Call Mulder. Instead I had called Dr Zuckerman. Every day since then, I have been trying to find the right words, the right moment, to broach the subject with Mulder, and right along with it, I have found a thousand excuses as to why now isn't the right time. Of course I realize that the right time is never going to happen, and that the longer I keep putting it off, the harder it's going to get. Especially since I have already decided that this time, treatment to prolong the inevitable is not an option for me and whilst I don’t profess to really know or understand exactly what my ‘cure’ entailed the last time around, I am smart enough to realise that its mechanism would never be found written on a treatment protocol. So I have opted to do nothing. To wait out the inevitable. I will continue to work for as long as I can. Until I’m once again incapable. But for how long I can keep up the pretence is anyone’s guess. Not to mention the fact that Mulder is neither stupid nor blind. Eventually he will figure this thing out for himself, and deep down, I can't help wondering if he already suspects something. A paranoid little voice is whispering that I am the reason for his dark mood this morning. Which when I think about it is ridiculous. Oh yeah. Guilt really sucks. Suddenly, I am catapulted from my musings and transported violently back in to the here and now as Mulder curses loudly, swerving the car savagely to the left even before the word is fully formed on his lips. "FUCK!" I'm not entirely sure what he has seen to provoke such a reaction. Mulder rarely, if ever curses aloud. And then I hear it. A sound I have become so attuned to over the years I could recognize it in my sleep. The sound of gunfire. Close by. My senses hone in on the sound, and beside me Mulder is already moving, unbuckling his Seat belt and reaching for the door handle in one fluid movement. Even as I automatically follow his lead I am still searching for answers as to why exactly we have come to a halt in the middle of rush hour traffic. But, like pieces of a jigsaw the answers fall together as I finally see what he sees. My years on the job have taught me to assimilate information pretty quickly. Headache or not, this is no exception. In the space of a heartbeat my consciousness has thrown several words at me. Bank. Alarms. Guns. Robbery Great. Just another fun day in the lives of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, where even a ride to work has the capacity to become a fucked up nightmare. The shoes I chose to wear today are definitely not made for pounding the pavement. More blisters for me tonight. Mulder of course doesn't have quite the same fashion impairment and even before I have fully cleared the car door he has taken off like a track star, waving his gun around and cutting a swath through the early morning streets like Moses parting the Red Sea. He can move pretty fast for a guy approaching forty, and, whilst I am not exactly a slug myself, an extra six inches of leg length makes all the difference and I find myself trailing further and further behind. As I run, I can hear Mulder shouting something, but the wind is against me and his words are lost in the slipstream making them almost unintelligible. Instead, I concentrate on keeping him in sight. The perp is somewhere ahead and by the pace Mulder is keeping, seems to have no intention of giving up the fight easily. I'm not sure what happens next. A deafening sound that threatens to split my now pounding head in two; Mulders horrified shout. "SCULLY!" A blow that stops me in my tracks and slams me to the ground. It's funny actually, because even as I am aware of falling, I don't feel anything other than a faint buzzing in my head as the pavement rushes up to meet me. No pain, no fear and certainly no understanding as to what has just happened. But through the white noise that surrounds me, I hear another gunshot. And then another. The sound seems to act as a catalyst for my own awareness and the dreamlike quality I had wallowed in for maybe a couple of seconds is replaced by a burning hot pain that seems to radiate through my whole body. Shit. This really hurts. I am reminded of the time when I fell out of the tree house that my brother Bill had spent the summer building with his cronies. I had been mercilessly chased away every time I dared show my face. A seven year old younger sister - a girl - had not been welcome in that den of pre-pubescent masculinity. So, tomboy that I was, I had snuck over there one night and undertaken the precarious climb through the twisted boughs to reach what was forbidden to me; I'd made it up ok -getting down though had been a different undertaking all together and trees tend not to be very forgiving to seven year olds who don't have the sense to realize when they are way out of their depth. I nursed a broken wrist for the rest of the summer, and it had taken years for me to forget the white hot pain I felt as that fragile bone snapped cleanly.. But, with typical childhood resilience I had forgotten. Until now that is. Flesh wounds hurt. Gunshot wounds hurt. Damaged bones hurt like a bitch. I'm unsure as to how much time has elapsed since I first heard Mulder shout out my name although I suspect it is no more than a few seconds at most. Mulder Shit, where is he? Three shots Dana. Count em. Three. Oh Fuck. My eyes snap open, which in itself is futile really because I can't seem to focus on anything other than the pavement which is tilting at an impossible angle before me. I can just make out a collection of coloured blobs in the near distance and although they are fuzzy around the edges I am able to recognize them as being human. From their size and shape I am also able to determine that they are crouched down, hugging the ground as thought their lives depend on it. But my only thought right now is for Mulders well being. Nothing else matters to me and not for the first time I am aware that what I feel for him goes way beyond the accepted boundaries of our friendship, because, had it been anyone other than Mulder, I would just close my eyes and allow myself some respite from the terrible pain that now overwhelms me. But sometimes, even the purest love cannot conquer the frailties of the human body. As I shift my weight fractionally to the right in order to release the arm that is trapped beneath me, I am engulfed in a wave of agony so intense that despite myself I close my eyes and scream. Maybe I screamed out his name. I don't know. But it doesn't matter anyway. Nothing matters except the sudden feeling of Mulders hands on my face, smoothing away the hair that is plastered against my cheeks. And I hear his voice from far away. He is frightened. I have frightened him. Just like he's frightened me in the past. So much fear for two people to bear in a lifetime. "Sssshhhhhhh Scully, It's ok....don't try to move...it's gonna be ok. Ssssshhhhhhh." Slowly the pain diminishes a fraction and I am able to open my eyes again. Maybe a little of the initial shock has subsided, or perhaps a gnawing desperation that needs me to know he's ok, allows me to finally focus enough to look deep in to his eyes. Mulder has beautiful eyes, the most expressive eyes I have ever seen in my life. I could easily lose myself in their depths, which is why I don't allow myself to stare in to them too often. Right now he is fighting tears and not making a very fine job of it. I know how he feels. I've been there too. I've watched him hurting far more times than I care to remember and each and every time I have found myself crying real tears for him when he has been unable to shed his own. Just like he is crying for me now. Despite the pain, I am able to shakily reach up a hand that feels like a dead weight and catch that first tear as it escapes its confines. Watching as it traces a crystalline trail down my finger. I want to speak, to let him know I'm fine, but just that small movement has left me as weak as a day old kitten snatched from its Mother and I just want to close my eyes and sleep. Instead, I fix my gaze on his; attempting to communicate to him through sight what I am unable to do with speech. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you Mulder. And now it's too late. He is going to find out. My secret is no longer going to be mine alone and I need to hang on to consciousness for as long as I can, because, I know that if I close my eyes now, the next time I open them, everything will have changed. Continued chapter 2 #fan fic #cancer #it's a bit heavy on the angst #msr #rst

[canaryatlaw]

Well today was kind of chaotic and tiring but still okay. I wasn't a lazy ass and got out of bed, but was consequently dragging all day lol. Alarm went off at 7:30, I got out of bed and scrambled to get ready because the bus was due to come at 8:01 and the next wasn't until 8:21 and I wasn't waiting for that shit (I usually take 35 minutes to get ready). Made the bus and was on my way to church. On the way, I checked my email to find two people saying they were sick and couldn't come to the 11 o clock service to work in the nursery, which was the only service that had vaguely enough people signed up and I was planning on going to the actual service during but that may have to be put on hold. Lovely lol. Got to church shortly after 9 so I could help with the transition between the 8 and 9:30 services since the 9:30 tends to be the biggest. I talked to the other girl in charge and sent out an SOS email asking for anyone to come to serve if they can, lol. Thankfully a few people showed up for the 9:30 so we were covered. I'm gonna gush a lot about adorable babies now, you have been warned. The 9:30 was fairly okay until like halfway through, then all hell broke lose because there was 4 of us and 16 babies running around, and they in groups they tend to have a chain reaction crying effect, lol. I just mainly tended to the non-walking babies in their little seat things, keeping them entertained by whatever objects I could find, which seemed to work well. I took a little girl from her dad at the start and she didn't cry or anything but just kind of hung on to me, and then 2 minutes later when I tried to put her down to grab another baby she immediately started sobbing haha like okay I guess I'm gonna be with you for most of the service, so I did. I eventually got her off my lap and just next to me, but she still protested when I left. But it was mostly fine for me at least. Towards the end of the service one of the ladies that had served with us before that I hadn't seen since she gave birth several months back comes in and claims one of the adorable babies I've been entertaining this whole time, who I had no idea was hers haha but she was so very cute. She ended up serving at the 11 so they stuck around. Other than that I spoke to the lady I saw at the DV clinic that one time with her 6 month old, and she started telling me about how her daughter had just started like, making sounds again after it stopping completely after she started visitation with her father in December, so of course that was a major red flag because that's an obvious reaction to trauma in a child that young, so we started talking about the custody case and I'll say, this probably sounds kind of silly coming from the person who works in child abuse and neglect court, but custody court is nasty. She has a GAL assigned to the case, but not from OPG, some private attorney hired by the court (OPG has a domestic relations division for such custody cases, it's where my spring break friend is working) and apparently this lady just doesn't care at all. Like she told her everything that had been happening and how concerned she was and the lady was just well like you have to keep taking her even though the dad had been violating the terms of the visitation order and everything, and like, ugh, that's so awful. One of the reasons I say custody court is nasty is because of how claims of abusive parenting are handled, or more accurately not handled- because more often then not if a parent makes an abuse allegation and uses it as a reason (or "excuse") to keep the child from the other parent the court will then use that as evidence against the concerned parent and give custody to the potentially abusive parent without looking into the credibility of the claims at all, which has had some very problematic results I'm sure you can imagine. And it sucks because in the abuse and neglect system reports coming from a parent against another when there is custody going on are almost never actually investigated, because there's a strong assumption they're just trying to use it against the other (I wouldn't be able to tell you the stats on fake vs real calls in that arena but there has to be real claims that are being ignored and that's not okay). So like, if you're a parent in this situation that's really concerned for your child, what do you do? You can't really do much. I told her to of course comply with the visitation order as much as possible even though that really sucks, because the court will take any evidence of resistance there as proof against your parenting ability. And otherwise, just document everything (which is the same thing I say to my clients at the DV clinic), like if she comes back from a visit doing something in particular, or God forbid a bruise or cut or something, document it and date it. That has to be such a horrible situation to be in, to feel that powerless over being able to protect your child. I know she has a lawyer actually from the DV clinic and I'll be there tomorrow along with my spring break friend so I told her I would ask my friend if there was anything else she could really do. My heart just really went out to her, because that's really such disturbing behavior out of a child that young you don't want to contemplate what could've been the cause of it (I didn't say this because I didn't want to plant that seed of horrific worry in her mind, but it did cross my mind that it could be the result of sexual abuse, but that's only one possibility of many). Anyway. As people started transitioning out of the 9:30 and into the 11 o clock service several more volunteer showed up, so that was good to see. I was handed a baby that was either crying or sucking on his bottle very determinately, so I tried to keep it the second haha and he was like closing his eyes but still drinking and I think he just got to sleep as his parents came, but then I couldn't stand up without waking him lol oh well. The 11 had just started at that point and we had a fair amount of volunteers, so I went down to the service, which was good. Starting a new series, called something like "the power of yes" or something like that and it started with a presentation by team world vision, a branch of the ministry world vision that I'm very familiar with (I sponsor a child through them) and they work with people to run marathons across the country to raise money for world vision and they've been very successful in raising money so far, and were trying to recruit people, so the pastor kind of worked that into his message about saying yes to God and how when we say yes it's the way that will lead you into new promises and possibilities God has for you that otherwise would never be discovered, it was good! One of the ladies at the 11 later told me she had gotten my SOS email right as the pastor was talking about "just say yes" so she was like okay I will! Haha so I appreciated that. After the service I went back upstairs, the lady who had just had a baby was just running to the bathroom quickly so I sat with her little girl for a minute and she was just the happiest little thing, she was like holding onto her feet and her toes and just smiling and oh she was so so cute. So that was enjoyable. The 12:30 was the shift I was normally signed up for, so I went up then and we ended up with 6 babies to 3 volunteers, so that was good. My little tiny girl was there of course, and she like smiled as she walked in the door when she saw me and ran over to me and gahhh I love this kid so much. She was upset for a bit in the beginning because one of the other babies had a bottle and she decided she wanted a bottle and not her juice cup which of course we couldn't give her and she was throwing a little fit over it which is very unlike her (I can count the number of times I've seen her cry on one hand) but she calmed down after not too long thankfully. The service was mostly calm, at one point one of the babies started crying so one of the ladies picked her up to try and soothe her and my tiny girl ran over and picked up one of the toy bottles from the doll and tried to give it to the lady for the baby and it was SO. CUTE. Omg, I was dying. I ran around and played with her and others for most of the time, up until about 25 minutes left or so. There was another little boy who was in the nursery for the first time, and had just kind of sat and looked at the toys while holding onto some of the little animals with a vaguely sad look on his face for most of the service but otherwise seemed okay. Well, inexplicably he just started sobbing at no provocation, and I was the closest person so I slid down to the floor and picked him up so he was leaning against my shoulder with my hand rubbing his back and my head leaning against his and just kind of rocked him and tried to generally be soothing, and he actually stopped crying pretty soon, but didn't seem to have any interest in leaving the position and was still kind of like breathing heavy and such so I just kept him there and rocked him for the rest of the service, whispering little comforting things in his ear. He was leaning on my right leg with most of his weight, and after not too long I could feel my foot going numb and then I straight up couldn't move my toes haha but I didn't want to move him because I could tell he was gonna get set off on a hair trigger, and he did almost start crying again several times just out of nowhere, so we stayed like that for the rest of the time. And it was sweet really, I knew he was sad but we got to snuggle a bit at least and that seemed to help. When the service got out and his mom showed up there wasn't anyone else who could take him to her and he couldn't really walk yet, and I was just sitting there like "I can't feel my foot or I would bring him to you" haha so she just came in and got him, I assured her that he was mostly fine and we just snuggled for a while. We talked a bit at the meeting last week about how we talk to parents about how their kids handled the nursery and just trying to be encouraging, because we never want a kid's bad reaction to be the thing giving them an excuse not to go to church, not lying of course and still calling them when needed but just trying to frame it better so I think that helped. Crisis averted, at least. As soon as he was gone my tiny girl came running right up to me, she doesn't like it when I hold other babies but she seems to understand enough to know when I need to hold a crying one. It was cute. The rest of the babies cleared out pretty quickly and we were set, the lady in charge was very thankful for me coming in but was also like "you know you don't have to feel like you're personally responsible for filling every spot" which is definitely I've kind of been feeling because I am the scheduling person and they're always filling in, but I also have to remember I'm still just a volunteer and her and the other lady in charge are actually on the staff in like paid positions, so it's not quite the same haha but I think that helped a bit. Hopped on the train, then when I got off ended up waiting half a fucking hour for the bus because my app kept lying to me, if it had told me it would take half an hour for the bus to show up I would've said fuck it and taken an uber, but instead it said 14 minutes which okay I can do that but then when that was up and I refreshed it it said 12 minutes and I was like UGHH but I didn't want to give up then because I had already invested time there, so I kept waiting, and it did take a half hour which was irritating, but oh well. I got home around 3:30 or so (so only 7 and a half hours after I left, lol) and tried to jump into my work with the Super Bowl pregame on mute to make sure I didn't miss the Schuyler sisters, lol. I had to do the problems for trial ad which ended up being super confusing and not very well explained which was irritating and made me rather irritated, but I kept working through all 7 to get this shit done, so I did and eventually finished. The Schuyler sisters were amazing of course, but you probably didn't need me to tell you that if you've been on here today. I kept the game on for the commercials, not really having any interest in the actual game, though my roommate would come through periodically and ask of the patriots were losing, lol. Several funny commercials, and the coke one with America the beautiful in different languages that aired right after the Schuyler sisters sang it definitely made me tear up more then a little. The game wasn't terribly interesting, though it did get pretty crazy at the end I wasn't at all invested in either team so I mainly worked on updating the company tumblr which always takes a while. I ended up sticking around for 24: legacy because the commercial shows Carlos Bernard, aka Tony Almeida my first ever tv husband and all around amazing person and I need as much of him in my life as possible, but I looked it up on IMDb and he's only in one episode, despite the commercial making it look like he was a costar (grrr) but I'm invested at least until he shows up on the second episode, though if they kill him off (again) I'm gonna be REAL pissed. The pilot was fine, pretty typical 24 set up and the whole time I kept seeing Eowyn as the protagonist haha but I like her a lot. The plot was interesting, we'll see where it goes from here of course, but for now I'm cautiously optimistic. I don't think it'll ever reach the level of 24 fanaticism I had back in the day, but that's a pretty dang high level lol. And yeah, that was about it and it's almost 1 am and I'm fucking tired but I get to sleep in a little at least so imma go do that now. Goodnight peeps. Have a non-sucky Monday.