#last time I got sick I ended up giving my sister covid too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

libraford · 4 years

Text

The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time.

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word.

Don't.

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs.

Let them.

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem.

Life is surprising.

I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now.

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in.

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think."

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly.

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!"

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door.

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later."

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice.

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away.

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time."

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying.

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods.

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register.

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out.

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief.

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices."

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses."

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special."

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story:

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them."

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that."

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?"

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious.

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag.

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison.

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking.

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen.

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!"

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture.

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow.

And that's why there are rules.

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful.

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said.

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse.

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street.

Wren drives very fast.

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry.

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief.

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect."

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her.

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing.

So now there are rules.

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag.

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out.

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first.

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00.

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight.

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags.

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it.

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it.

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you.

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble.

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules.

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount.

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways.

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said:

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!"

"They've been sitting without water for hours."

"They're still good!"

"They were out in the sun."

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!"

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears.

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage.

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me.

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email."

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday."

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!"

"Saturday."

"Yeah."

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday."

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale."

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday."

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer.

And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together.

"Sure."

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink."

"Sure."

I print it. I ring her up $5.

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free."

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5."

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time."

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?"

She grumbled, and paid.

And again.

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?"

"When the work is done."

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren."

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?"

"When the work stops, I rest."

And again.

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up.

"Oh baby..."

"No. We're doing away with the discounts."

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling.

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-"

"How can you do this to me?"

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement."

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?"

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar."

Stamp, stamp, stamp.

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back.

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register.

"Is it now?"

And again.

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin.

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned.

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go.

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me.

I began taking down numbers.

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens.

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler.

"$54? What do I have that's $54?"

"The oasis. They're $2 each."

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1."

"I can text Grandpa and ask her."

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!"

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses."

"22.50 is everybody prices."

"Welcome to 'everybody.'"

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!"

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else."

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me.

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me.

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this."

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.'

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand.

"Can you do something for me on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty."

"9.50."

"9.50's the regular price."

"Regular price is $14."

"No it ain't."

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals."

She put them back.

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy.

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!"

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice.

Not here.

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be.

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes...

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.'

"No."

It's such a great word.

There are rules and there are rules.

And there are thieves that the rules are made for.

And there are words like 'no.'

And all those things are magic in very human ways.

7K notes · View notes

aleatoryalarmalligator · 3 years

Text

As you all may know, my mother is on a ventilator for covid 19. She didn’t believe in covid. I tried to tell her but she didn’t believe it. She tried to tell me some kind of Qanon bologne when I’d try to tell her. I would give anything to have more time with my mother. There is some signs of improvement in her feeling better but I am not wanting to become too hopeful. She was on the phone with one of my elder sisters for six minutes rather than two the other day. She was angry at her for letting her kids come in to her house knowing they had covid.

I’m very angry at her doctor who told her she didn’t need the covid shot, in fact just telling her she is healthy. She has a small body frame and is on the shorter side but weighs nearly three hundred pounds and struggles to get around. She’s 59 years old and works as a nurse at a nursing home and works way too hard on minimum wage, has given birth to six children, has always had asthma and is prone to bronchitis and pneumonia. She’s a prime candidate for covid, in fact she is who I thought about the day I remember reading about covid. It’s like this disease was designed to kill my mother.

They sent her to southern Idaho for a ventilator. She is lucky to get one. They’ve run out in many of these red states that didn’t take covid seriously enough. It does not bring me any joy that right wingers and people who didn’t believe in the shot are dying. I’ve had liberal friends say over simplistic things about people from red states getting what’s coming to them and so forth, and people have rejoiced at the idea of trump supporters getting sick and suffering and dying.

I am left leaning, but I never want to get so caught up in my political ego that I eradicate any notion of humanity to the people I don’t agree with or might not even like. Their pain and lives are real and legitimate as anyone else’s. Their families matter too. They are wrong, my mother is wrong. She’s been backwards about a lot of the world my whole life.

But she’s also a very kind person. She is always giving to people and has contradictory, while supporting a fucking horrible president, also put up for and fought her job because of racism she was seeing all around her. She doesn’t really think like a conservative and her way of approaching life didn’t really ever reflect a deeper conservative value or drive. I’ve noticed other conservatives never liked her.

She believed the wrong things because she was driven by religious faith and loneliness to believe the rabbit hole of alt right Facebook. She doesn’t have much of an education, was bullied and abused for most of her childhood. she went to over twenty different schools and moved a lot throughout her childhood. She got married and started having children very young. She always worked as a bartender, or as a caretaker to children with disabilities or elderly folk. She barely understood the internet. She believed in god and joined religious groups on Facebook very open and blindly without even understanding propaganda or the political climate of what is being fought for, which pretty much took her down this poisonous road. And now she’s barely able to talk in an icu all alone, as this virus that she didn’t believe in tries to kill her.

Moving to the city and always being left leaning, but being from a rural area of the inland north west, where I was outnumbered and lived amongst these folk who didn’t like me all that much but I was always having to find ways to accept and understand sometimes gives me a perspective perhaps that maybe liberal kids from middle class families from liberal cities have missed out on. I will never be able to see it as black and white. It would be easy to just say that the people in Bible Belt areas deserve this and be rid of any sadness or guilt. I was disgusted by the anti intellectualism I was surrounded by and I lived for most of my twenties in my own world to avoid it when I was growing up and lived in my home state which is fairly red. But people are the same everywhere. They really are.

Her recovery is slow and I worry something terrible is happening to her organs and lungs as she has fights for her life. I hope her body is strong enough to keep fighting. I appreciate the care and labor and sacrifice the hospitals have given to keep people alive. There is so much anguish. We have lost a mural of so many wonderful and beautiful souls to covid. It’s hard to even fathom the grief and pain it’s left in its wake. I can barely cope with my own.

I took a walk today to think. I haven’t wanted to listen to music in a long while because my mood is on my mother’s condition, but I put in John Prine. He was one of the first people to die of covid that I cared about, albeit indirectly as I only know him through his songs. I had a ticket to go see him play before covid took his life. It was going to be small and intimate outdoor concert in town. His music was always so real and down to earth. He sings about the quiet sad things of getting old and the way that love is about the daily existence with other people. How you build and cope with things.

One of his last songs on the album before he died was about how science has no business tinkering with nature. It’s so genuine. And ironic. Not everyone shares this belief, but I think that the covid flu was made in a lab and someone made a mistake and let it out into the public. I believe it was just human error in Wuhan. Nobody, no government or anything wanted this. And the Chinese government did everything they could to avoid fessing up to the mistake. So the idea of a lab grown virus being what killed John Prine kind of hurts in a way, though he also often sang about being comfortable with death and having peace with a life that was happy.

There are countless people I could blame for my mother’s disease. I could blame the dystopian Chinese government and their inability to admit fault, I could blame our government and our long-standing capitalist system that monetary prioritizes gain over human life, I could blame my mother’s cruel upbringing for not giving her the tools she needed to make wise choices about the world around her, or she herself for not taking care of her body. I could blame her mother and father and brothers.

I could blame my sisters kids for their lack of consideration of what covid would do to my mother’s health knowing she was high risk, or my eldest sister herself for being lazy and letting them go to my moms house knowingly.

I could blame some mentally unwell woman named Susan who my mother might have vaguely known for inviting her to a Facebook group of hate and conspiracy, or blame the nuns who drove religion into my mother’s head as a child. I could blame the easy to punch Ted Cruz or Tucker Carleson or any of the right wing mouth pieces for spreading lies and misinformation to the people they are supposedly speaking up for on behalf of about covid. I could blame it on our artificially based two party system that prevents real discussion from ever happening.

In the end, there is a myriad of things I could blame. So many pieces to the puzzle I could write volumes. But it doesn’t change where we are at now. And I have little control of the world around me. Or what made it that way. It’s disappointing. And in a way, John Prine has that message too. I’m just sad. I try to remember that my mom of the many people I have known was very accepting of death. Maybe it’s because she’s a person of faith, but she has a practical dark humor about her too that makes her accept it. I know she wouldn’t want me to be sad, but I am all the same.

It’s happened at this point where I am genuinely feeling my age and kind of at a crossroads in who I am as a person and what I want to do. I’ll talk about that some other time though. There is only so much a person can read.

34 notes · View notes

aspocko · 2 years

Photo

(cw death, but chill about it)

today i learned the word “cremains”.

the night before my grandma died last august, i went to get a covid test. i’d had a headache that lasted the whole day, which was abnormal for me. while the headache was mild, i considered the fact that i had been in and out of the hospital every day that week to visit my grandma, whose troublesome heart was giving her trouble yet again (the final kind of trouble, this time). while I wore a KN95 mask, I removed it to eat and drink. i was and still am very paranoid about the plague, and while my sister (who had flown in to see my grandma, was staying with me) told me it was probably just the stress of having to watch my grandmother decline, i still went to get tested.

the next day, we went back to the hospital. we wore our masks. we sat with my grandma. her doctor said it wasn’t going to be long. at some point, my phone rang. it was on silent, but i felt it vibrate. it was the clinic where i got tested (they are my local urgent care, so i had their number saved). i stepped out into the hall and was told that i tested positive for covid, and that i would need to isolate immediately. i was horrified. every day after leaving the hospital that week, i had gone for dinner with my family. i had sat in the car and in close quarters with my sister every day. i hugged my mom so many times because she was in the process of saying goodbye to her mom. i had exposed so many people to this virus, and, horrified, i didn’t want to spend any more time in the hospital, where i would be putting other patients at risk.

i hung up the phone and went into the room. my mom and uncle were at my grandmas bedside with a nurse. my sister stood back, so i told her first, in a whisper. her eyes, all of her that i could see while she was masked, widened in dread. she said “we have to go” and i agreed. as i stepped past her to tell my mom and uncle, the nurse said “she’s gone.” my grandma had just died. stunned and caught off guard, i said “now?!” like an idiot. i comforted my mom, and then told her my own news. she said “you need to get out of the hospital” and i agreed. she told me “you should tell your uncle” and i agreed. but when i walked up to him, he was holding his mom’s hand and was sobbing. i couldn’t.

i had said goodbye to my grandma the day before, when she was still lucid. i didn’t want to repeat the goodbye to her corpse. my mom said she would tell the doctor and nurse who spent time in the room with us. everyone was going to have to leave, get tested, isolate. i hated not being with my mom to comfort her, but i was too afraid that i would give her the plague. so my sister and i left. it all happened very quickly.

over the next 48 hours, everyone got tested. somehow, my entire family tested negative. my mom gave me a very stern talking to, insisting that i not blame myself for this. i got a second covid test that was also negative, but the doctor said that since my first pcr was positive, i should still assume that i was carrying the virus, and still needed to isolate for 10 days. i lied and told my family that my second test was also positive, because i was afraid that they would think i did this all for attention. which i know is irrational but i am the most mentally fragile and emotionally volatile member of my family and i am always in one crisis or another, and i just couldn’t deal with this, too.

i isolated. i missed my birthday. i spiraled in panic. i dissociated quite a bit. i took my temperature every hour. i waited for symptoms to emerge, fearing that any minute would be the minute i stop being able to breathe. my case of covid ended up being asymptomatic. i only exhibited extreme exhaustion, which i attribute 100% to the anxiety. it is exhausting to exist baseline in a rolling panic attack that goes on for days. i did not get sick and i did not suffer anything other than my own brain.

because of the covid scare, my grandma did not have a funeral, and my mom did not sit shiva. as it turned out, it was my grandmas wish that she not have a funeral at all, regardless of the covid scare. instead, she wanted us to celebrate her life. she had already picked out the menu. bagels AND flagels. whitefish, egg salad, tuna salad, chicken salad, scallion cream cheese. lox. muffins. peggy’s lemon bars. a bloody mary station. we meant to do the celebration as soon as i could stop isolating, but delta was surging, and my grandma’s friends, all elderly, were afraid. so we held a zoom memorial, and said we would do it in person the following year.

it took 11 months, but today was my grandmother’s celebration of life. we had everything on my grandma’s menu. her friends and family were there. we all ate breakfast and sat around and shared stories and memories about her. there were no tears. even her best friend, who had to be coaxed into sharing her story because she was too afraid she was going to cry, made it through. when it was over, i drove with my mom and sister to the veteran’s cemetery where george was buried. after my grandma divorced her husband, she and george met eachother on the golf course. they never married, but they were together for over 40 years. i grew up with him as one of my grandpas.

we had a hard time finding his grave. it was 100 degrees and humid, and we wandered around in the full sun, reading every grave marker. i felt a little giddy, and started calling “george! george, where are you?” as we searched. eventually we found him. we left stones and shells on his grave, and then we dug a little hole next to his headstone, and buried some of my grandma’s ashes.

then we drove to the country club where my grandma spent most of her life on the golf course. this was going to be the more challenging endeavor, so we planned ahead. my mom put my grandma’s ashes in some paper to-go coffee cups. she, my sister and i each got one, and we all walked into the country club. we came up with a story, but my mom ended up running into someone she knew right away, so we just talked about how we wanted to see the plaques with my grandma’s name on it, from all the years she won club champ at the golf tournament. no one batted an eye at us, and so we roamed the country club, scattering her ashes as inconspicuously as we could, pouring her out from the lip of our to-go coffee mugs.

it was 100 degrees outside, so the fact that we were holding cups that belied hot coffee was a little silly. but no one said anything. we hit up the putting green, the garden behind the pool, the driving range, the last hole, etc. i don’t know much about golf, but in the last photo, you can see my mom standing on some scuffed up grass. the tier farther away from the hole was where the men would golf from, while the area behind her, closer to the hole, was for the women to golf from. my grandma always golfed from the men’s section. she was a very good golfer. she was the club champion plenty of times. the plaques had been taken down when the club changed ownership, but it was fun getting to see the place, and getting to do our bit of mischief. not long after i spread some of her ashes on the putting green i saw an employee come up and start watering the green with a hose. already, i knew she was safe, and wouldn’t blow away.

and then we all got in our cars and went home. i was dreading this day not because it would mean having to finally say my last goodbye to my grandma, but i was afraid i would get covid again and ruin it all a second time. i’m so relieved that it all went well. it was a great time, hearing stories about my grandma. i have a bit left in my coffee cup, so i’m going to put it in the dirt around a plant that my grandma propagated for me a few years ago. anyway. today was a nice day. very strange, but it felt right.

#personal #cw death but chill about it

4 notes · View notes

str8-jack-it · 3 years

Text

Yesterday I said my final goodbye to the best father ever. Last month he and my mom both got covid. It hit my Dad hard, his health and age worked against him. I spent half of September taking care of my Mom so she wouldn't end up in the hospital too. I held his hand in ICU ...until his heart ...just.. stopped. Having to video chat my Mom to tell her the love of her life is gone. Hearing her voice break as she said her love is gone. Seeing my best friend say goodbye to a man she considered another father. I didn't want to leave him until the hospital kicked me out then realized I got to be there for my Mom. Leaving him was the hardest thing I've ever done. Seeing my nephew run to me for a hug after driving like hell to get here with tears in his eyes.

It hurt.

My siblings and I planned the funeral with my parent's wishes in mind. I guess in modern day terms we're a blended family or a his/hers/&ours. My father loved his step children as his own. When it came time to pick the coffin the first one we saw was made of pecan. My Dad loved his pecan orchard and given the slightest chance he'd tell you all about them. He loved working the Earth. He dropped out of school at 8th grade, he would eventually earn his GED. He could make or fix anything. His time in the USMC during Vietnam he cut hair on a transport ship. He had no training. He'd watched his parents cut the hair of his siblings. He cut children's, wives, officer's hair and got paid for it. He cut my youngest son's hair and now...

My Dad wasn't perfect. The 4 of us kids all butted heads with him at some point and most of us made amends with him. He could be stubborn, he sometimes had a my or the highway attitude about things, but he made sure we were loved. He told me once that his father never told him that he loved him until right before he died. Dad made sure we knew he loved us.

Years ago I gave them both books to write their life story. Each only wrote a few pages worth. In Dad's though he talked to me. He wrote about his baby sister that only lived 3 days and about messing with his father's mule. I may have given the impression that my grandfather wasn't a good man. Thats not true. Born in the rural south in the 20's you had to be hard, emotionless to an extent especially when not every child you have will make it adulthood and you had to work hard to give your family a roof over their head and food in their stomachs.

When I felt him as he lay in the that coffin it didn't feel like my Dad. It hurt. Yesterday was his burial service. He'll be less than hour away from me at the military cemetary.

I'm not grieving well, I'm angry for some reason. My oldest isn't either. They were so close. I want to be selfish. He should be there to welcome his great grandchildren into the world next year, number 6&7. He should be there to watch my oldest graduate and see him get his driver's license. I can't help but wonder if I should've gone down there sooner to see if I could've kept him on this earth a little longer. I mean he was so sick; not eating, drinking, taking his meds. He fell in the bathroom one night and got a black eye and fractured cheek bone. Mama was so lost and weak she didn't know what to do. Maybe, just maybe, if I had done something different.

I prayed that the Lord do His will with my Dad, be it save him or take him. He chose to take him. I know he's with his Lord, feeling no pain, rejoicing with the loved ones who preceded him.

Roll Tide Dad!

Oo rah Marine!

I love you and I'll always be your little girl.

42-21

#rest in peace #daddysgirl #daddylove #daddy #marine #usmc #pecan #I'll love you always

11 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 4 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 25

A/N: So this chapter begins the first mention of COVID-19 for the story. I know it’s not much but I did want to put a little disclaimer because I know it was a traumatic event for many people, especially those who were affected by it personally. We will obviously get deeper into it as the story progresses in the next chapters (judging by the date...it’s time!)

Also, no @’ing me about what happens here with a certain someone.

March 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was paying attention to the news at the airport.

“While the first case of what epidemiologists are referring to as COVID-19 was recorded in Toronto on January 25th, the novel coronavirus is still baffling some scientists in terms of its symptoms. They range from severe in some, to completely asymptomatic in others. While there are currently less than twenty cases in Toronto thus far, Ontario health officials have recorded three news cases today. One is a man in his 60s who returned on a flight from Egypt, while the other two are women in their 60s and 70s returning on a flight from Egypt. Public health officials are encouraging individuals to wash their hands frequently and exercise caution whenever and wherever possible.”

“Want some hand sanitizer?” John asked from beside her. He was laid out in the chair beside her while her knees were against her chest.

She nodded, leaving her bag of pretzels in her lap before she extended her hand and he squirted some Purell onto her hand. John always had everything readily available – hand sanitizer, band aids, healthy granola bars, breath mints – she was sure he probably had a spare hair elastic in his backpack too, and a full surgery kit for all she knew. She rubbed the sanitizer in between her hands. “What do you think about all this?” she asked, motioning towards the TV monitor.

John shrugged. “I’m a bit nervous about it,” he admitted. “I know that Aryne is taking some extra precautions with Jace. A lot of her friends from Queen’s ended up going to med school so she’s friends with a lot of doctors and listening to their advice.”

“I guess we should all be.”

“Wouldn’t hurt, right?” John asked rhetorically. “Better safe than sorry. What do you think about it?”

Aberdeen pursed her lips slightly. “I have no clue. Science goes way above my head. But if doctors and epidemiologists are going to tell me to do something – or not do something – so I don’t get sick, I’m going to do it – or not do it – whatever.”

“Atta girl,” John smiled. “Just listen to the experts.”

“That’s why I listen to you about hockey,” she winked.

He laughed out loud. “You butter me up too much. What are you looking for? A granola bar? You already have pretzels.”

“Not everything with me has to do with food.”

“Really?”

She pinched him.

***

March 5th, 2020

It was 24 Celsius in Los Angeles, and Aberdeen was loving it. Though the Leafs had suffered a bit of an embarrassing loss to San Jose the night before, today the team had a day off before they had back to back games against the Kings and Ducks. Some of them were going shopping on Rodeo Drive (Auston, Frederik), and some were visiting old friends since being traded (Kyle, Jack), but most were doing exactly what Aberdeen wanted to do: going to the beach.

They decided on Malibu Beach. It was only a thirty minute drive from the hotel, so Aberdeen put on her bathing suit and packed herself in a car with John, Jason, and Justin Holl. William, Rasmus, Kappy, and Pierre followed in another, with Tyson and Mitch tagging along in the last car too. It may not have been super-hot to Californians, but for sun-starved Canadians, it would do. The sun was out, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and she was going to tan the entire afternoon. She would take advantage of it as much as possible.

As she helped set up the blankets and beach towels, she watched as Mitch and Tyson already stripped down to their bathing suits and ran into the ocean together. Pierre was setting up some Bluetooth speakers and John was passing around the sunscreen. The visual of these men rubbing sunscreen across their abs made Aberdeen’s heart flutter – but then the image of them having to slather sunscreen all over each other’s backs brought her back down to earth. She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

“Aberdeen, sunscreen!” John tossed the bottle towards her. She caught it and stripped down to her tankini before squirting some onto her legs and arms, making sure to cover herself thoroughly. She could tell William was watching but trying not to make it seem like he was. Jason took care of her back.

The guys did their own thing while Aberdeen read her book and tanned. She could hear them screaming every now and then and watched as they gave each other piggyback rides and splashed water at each other like they were a peewee hockey team on a weekend tournament. Every now and again someone would come back to the blankets and beach towels to relax, but soon enough, they were back in the ocean, being loud and obnoxious but happy, happy boys.

“Whatcha reading?” Tyson asked as he walked towards her, wet from the salt water and sand sticking to his legs. She flashed the book at him – Milkman by Anna Burns – and he squinted his eyes to see it properly in the sunlight. “Is it about milk?” he asked.

She shorted. She remembered back to when she was reading Women Talking by Miriam Toews and William asked “Do women talk in it?” like a smartass. “It’s about a woman in what’s very obviously Belfast coming of age during the Troubles. I thought it might give me some more insight into what my mom grew up in.”

“Is it any good? Was it as good as the one you were reading last week on the plane? Normal Girls or whatever it was?”

Aberdeen giggled. “Normal People, you mean? No, it’s not as good as that. Fuck, I loved that book.”

“I know. You wouldn’t shut up about it!” he joked, wiping his body off. From behind him, Aberdeen could see John making his way towards them. William was still off in the ocean, throwing a football between him, Pierre, and Mitch. “Think you can teach Mitch how to read?”

Aberdeen smiled. “I can certainly try.”

As if on cue, Mitch’s booming voice was heard. “Hey T-Bear! Get over here!” he yelled, putting everything he had into his throw of the football so it reached Tyson, who caught it expertly.

“See ya later, Aberdeen,” he said before running off, throwing the football towards Pierre who had to dive into the water to catch it.

Instead of focusing on the water cascading down Pierre’s abs or the sunlight hitting William’s broad shoulders perfectly, making him look like some Norse god, she focused her attention on John. “You feeling good?” she asked.

“The best,” he nodded, wiping himself off before lying the towel down again and sitting on it, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. “You’ve already gotten some colour,” he commented.

“Thank God,” she said, looking down at her arms. “The winter has made me so pale. It’s a bummer I didn’t get my dad’s skin tone. My sister and brother got lucky with that.”

“You took after the Scottish side?” he asked. Aberdeen nodded. “I get it,” he said. “Aryne can’t tan either. She burns too easily.”

“Wonder if the Swedes are going to look like tomatoes in a couple of hours,” she said, nodding her head towards them. “Imagine they’re on TV and beet red? I might get fired for not slathering sunscreen on you guys or not telling you to put on some hats.”

John laughed out loud, choosing to lean back on his elbows. “I don’t know about that, Aberdeen. Something tells me you’ll be around for a long time if certain people have anything to say about it – well, until you want to leave, that is.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened slightly at his words. “Wh…what do you mean?” she asked.

“Ah, nothing serious, Aberdeen. Don’t worry,” he said, shaking his head. With the silence between them, Aberdeen thought he may have dropped it, but he didn’t. He was just preparing to articulate what he wanted to say. “It’s not just Brendan liking you, you know. We know William has, like, the biggest crush on you, okay? We’re all adults here,” he said to her shock. “It’s cute, but we all know it’s harmless.”

“It is harmless,” she stressed.

“I know, Aberdeen. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t for a second forget that you’re all Toronto Maple Leafs,” she said. “Every job in this organization is a dream job for someone and you guys forget that some people spend their entire lives, their entire careers, building up their resumes waiting to get hired by this organization. Nobody would ever, ever, under any circumstances, want to do anything to fuck it up, because once you’re done here, there’s nowhere else to go.”

“I knooooow, I know. I’m just ribbing you like we rib him about it,” he smiled. He was so jovial about it all that Aberdeen calmed down a bit. He wasn’t trying to get to the bottom of something like he was when he and Morgan asked her about Ethan – he was just being good-humoured. A human, not a captain of a hockey team. Maybe her overreaction was a bit much but she needed to remain guarded and vigilant about it if ever, and whenever the guys brought it up. “He looks at you googly-eyed all the time even though he knows nothing’s ever gonna happen. I’m pretty sure he’d cry whenever you leave.”

Aberdeen snorted. Cry from joy, probably, because that would mean they could actually touch each other in public. “He told you that? That nothing is ever gonna happen?”

John nodded his head. “Well, nothing’s ever gonna happen as long as you work here,” he clarified. “But don’t tell him I told you. He kind of figures and we all know it’s a lost cause as long as you’re working here.”

Aberdeen nodded, deciding not to say anything as she looked out into the distance. The boys were still throwing the football, and Justin was attempting a yoga pose on the beach. She picked up her book and buried her head in it.

***

Adrian Kempe, a Swedish friend of William’s, recommended a taco restaurant in Malibu for the group to have dinner. It wasn’t a far drive from where they were on the beach, so at around six in the evening, they shook the sand off the towels and packed them back in the cars and headed to Café Habana. Aberdeen was in the car with John, Jason, and Justin again.

When they arrived at the restaurant, she looked out the backseat window to see Kappy making a beeline towards someone. The girl, Aberdeen soon noticed, was Saylor. She figured Saylor was here for another modelling gig, though Aberdeen did find it somewhat amusing that Saylor always popped up in cities or areas with…well, shall we say distractions. She was in New York. Las Vegas. Aberdeen knew she’d been to Florida. Now she was in LA. Saylor didn’t go Columbus or Colorado.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Saylor squealed as she saw Willy, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him. “Surrrrrpriiiiise!”

“Surprise,” he smirked, but Aberdeen could tell he wasn’t as excited as she was. “Here for some modelling?”

“Who wouldn’t want to come down to LA to model? I just came from a shoot,” she said, now focusing her attention on Aberdeen. “Hey girl!” she squealed again.

“Hi Saylor,” she smiled.

“I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl here tonight,” she smirked. “The boys can get so boring sometimes.”

“Aberdeen’s used to it by now,” Jason piped in. “She’s only been travelling with us since September.”

The group moved towards the restaurant and were seated in the back patio at a long table. Aberdeen was squished in between Jason and John, and directly across from her sat Willy, Pierre to his right and Saylor to his left. Saylor and Kasperi didn’t even have to sit down to ask the waiter and waitress attending to them if they had oysters. They didn’t. With one quick look at the menu, and a disproportionately long discussion requiring everybody’s calculators to be out to determine how many orders of tacos were required for everybody to have three tacos each (much to Aberdeen’s entertainment), the group ordered four orders of every taco variation (and there were five of them) on the menu, along with some sides of baby broccoli, sautéed zucchini, and French fries. As a dining group of 11, it should have been more than enough food. She felt bad for the chefs, but knew the food would be amazing. She saw it being brought to a table near them and it looked delectable.

While Aberdeen maintained professionalism at all times when she was in front of the guys, when the tacos came, that professionalism waned. She made sure to grab the four tacos she was guaranteed and wanted and piled them onto her plate. They looked delicious. Even as she bit into her first one, she moaned audibly at the taste, making the guys around her laugh. Willy eyed her as she did so, taking a bite out of his own.

“So what have you been up to?” Saylor asked Aberdeen as she crunched on a French fry. “Kappy told me it was your birthday?”

“It was! I turned 22.”

“Ohmigod, I remember my 22nd birthday. We went to the rooftop bar at the Bowery Hotel in New York City,” Saylor said. Aberdeen knew it would be something ultra-luxurious because that was the only way Saylor seemed to roll. “What did you end up doing?”

“Oh, a bunch of friends and I just got a booth and bottle service at a club. Nothing as fancy as that,” Aberdeen answered.

“How many were you?”

“I’d say about twenty.”

Saylor’s eyes bulged a bit. “When you get older, your friend group gets soooo small,” she said, her tone making it seem like she was the all-knowledgeable big sister bestowing wise knowledge upon Aberdeen. Saylor was only a year older than her. If it was Jen, Aryne, or Bee giving this advice, fine – but not Saylor. “My friend group is so small now. All the drama that goes on between people is just so tiring, you know? Less people, less drama.”

Aberdeen didn’t want to be rude, so she nodded her head. “I can get that. These are all people I’ve known since high school and throughout university, though. We’ve already been friends for a long time.”

“And you’re still friends with them?” Saylor asked.

Aberdeen nodded her head. Before she could say anything else, John piped up. “I think that’s a testament to your character more so than anything, Aberdeen.”

“But it could also speak to, like, the way people are,” Saylor went on. Aberdeen indulged her, looking at her so she would continue. “Like, when I was in high school – my family is from Lake Forest, and I went to Lake Forest Academy – I found out this one friend was talking behind my back and I totally ditched her. But then we ended up at the same college, and it was really weird for a while, but then we ended up becoming friends!”

Aberdeen didn’t know what point she was trying to make. Neither did anybody else listening, judging by the looks on their faces. “That’s good you were able to turn the relationship around,” she commented, not knowing what else to say.

Saylor looked very proud of herself. “Besides that, what else have you been up to? Are you still just, like, Brendan’s assistant?”

Aberdeen bit her tongue to smile curtly. “Just.”

“And a great one at that,” Jason said before stuffing his mouth with a taco.

“I guess that’s enough for you,” Saylor commented.

Aberdeen almost dropped her taco. So did Jason. Willy was looking in between them. She didn’t know how to respond at this point and not sound rude when Saylor’s rudeness was so blatantly obvious. Aberdeen still wasn’t sure whether or not Saylor actually had the capacity to be underhanded. She was starting to err on the side of Saylor knowing exactly what she was saying to people but saying it in such a way and with such a tone that everyone thought she was just dumb and didn’t know better. Aberdeen began to believe Saylor did know better, and her act wasn’t fooling Aberdeen anymore. It made her reconsider what Saylor said to her in New York about her nose. “It’s actually not enough for me, but it’s what’s paying the bills right now and I’m not going to discuss career aspirations at the dinner table in front of people who are technically my colleagues and who don’t want to see me leave anytime soon.”

“But you can’t be in a job you hate just because it pays the bills!” she said like some dreamer. “You need to go out there and be creative! Cultivate! Be artistic! Design! Sometimes the best opportunities come when you just drop everything, quit your job, and start hustling as you do what you love!”

Aberdeen felt her blood begin to boil. She tried to remain calm. “One – I never said I hated my job. I love this job and I love the people I work with,” she clarified. “Two – that’s a bit easy to say for someone with family money who grew up in Lake Forest and went to a private school. I have rent to pay. Bills – groceries, my cell phone, internet, stuff for my cat – I can’t just up and quit my job with a steady income to hustle and be creative when I have a shit ton of responsibilities.”

“I’m sure your parents would help you if it’s your dream and it’s something you really wanted to do.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Aberdeen deadpanned. “My parents have their own shit to deal with. My mom would kick my ass if I was that stupid. I mean, my parents are immigrants, so that goes without saying. They don’t owe me a dollar, and I would never ask them for it. I would never do that to them.”

“What about your grandparents?”

Aberdeen could feel John, Jason, Pierre, and Willy deflate at the question. It was almost comical. “I think you’re missing the point, Saylor,” Jason said nicely. “Aberdeen is already hustling to get to an end-goal of writing. This job is actually helping her get to that goal.”

“Writing?” Saylor questioned. “I thought for sure you wanted to, like, work in sports or broadcasting or something. Writing, then? That makes sense, I guess. Better for you to stick behind the cameras.”

Aberdeen wondered if everybody else could hear what Saylor was saying too. She felt like she was in the twilight zone or something. It confirmed to her that Saylor knew exactly what she was saying. “Yeah, I guess. Kind of how it’s better for you to be in front of the cameras because you thrive on attention.”

“Yes! Modelling is all about getting attention and hype around your brand,” she smiled sincerely, so happy that the topic was back on her and her modelling. She didn’t get the subtle dig at her…extracurricular activities that took up more of people’s attention than any work or collaborations or modelling she’d done. “I’m working so hard to build mine now, which is why I’m in LA having meetings and doing more collabs.”

“Is modelling enough for you?” Jason asked.

Aberdeen almost spit out her water, but Willy beat her to it. She saw Saylor’s face light up even more. “Oh my God, yes. I looove modelling. I’m soooo into the creative aspect of it and building my brand.”

“That’s great, Saylor,” Aberdeen smiled. “I’m really glad that it’s working out for you considering how much you love it.”

“Thanks, girl,” she winked. “It’s hard because the industry is so saturated these days. I mean we were talking about this in New York. Every girl with an iPhone, some makeup, and good angles thinks she’s a model. It really takes someone creative like me to stand out. Someone with a unique look and a unique brand,” she went on. “Like your nose, you know? It’s big. Huge. We talked about that. You could get a nose job, or you could work with it. Most would get a nose job.”

Jason was ready for Aberdeen to snap. So was John. So was Pierre. But William knew better. When he saw Aberdeen smile, close-mouthed, just a hint of a coy grin playing on her face, he knew better. “I have a Virginia Woolf nose,” Aberdeen said. “It reminds me of how much I want to become a writer and not a model.”

***

“I feel like I just watched a WWE match on pay-per-view,” Aberdeen overheard Justin say to Jason in a low voice as they trailed behind her in the parking lot (he sat beside Jason during the meal and had heard everything, but even if he hadn’t sat beside him, Aberdeen had a feeling he still would have heard). After the tacos were eaten, everybody decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel – well, mostly everyone. Saylor wanted to go out for drinks somewhere else in Malibu. Everybody else politely declined.

“Yeah, except it was pretty one-sided,” Jason said in an equally low voice. “It’s like Aberdeen was Stone Cold Steve Austin and Saylor was the poor jobber her stunnered every Monday night.”

“You picked up on the nose comment too, right? I mean she was basically telling Aberdeen to get a nose job?” Justin asked.

“Yup,” Jason popped the P sound.

“I thought I was going crazy when I heard it.”

“Yeah, me too. But from what I’ve heard from Jen I didn’t expect more from her.”

“It’s good that Aberdeen is mature. I think if it were me at 22, I would have lunged across the table,” Justin commented.

***

“Who’s Virginia Woolf?”

Aberdeen was lying naked in her hotel bed, tits out, with William lying by her side after he’d fucked her, and that was the question he asked. Aberdeen smiled. She loved William and she knew him – she really did, at least she liked to think – but sometimes she didn’t understand how his brain worked. She knew she liked to call him “Head Empty”, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure. He clearly had thoughts. He just brought them up at weird times. “She was a writer in the early 1900s,” she answered, laughing slightly.

“And you want to be like her?”

She shook her head. “I’d like my writing to be like her writing.”

“Why don’t you want to be like her?”

“She filled her pockets with rocks and committed suicide by drowning herself in the river behind her home,” she said, looking over at him. His face was blank, processing the information, and she smiled wider. “Maybe if my writing was like hers, I’d actually get published in Toronto Life or something.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Her smile faded. She hadn’t told him yet. She’d wanted to keep it to herself for as long as possible because she didn’t want to burden him with the news. “I did try. I sent in one of my personal essays and they rejected it. They sent me the email on my birthday.”

William remained silent. He saw the look on Aberdeen’s face and knew that she felt embarrassed and disappointed – in herself, in her writing. He wrapped an arm around her and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her. “Minskatt…”

“Don’t, Willy. You’re going to make me cry.”

“No,” he shook his head, not accepting what she was saying. “After the Carolina game you told me I needed to talk more and that you’d listen. Well, you need to talk now and I’ll listen,” he said. “Talk to me, minskatt. I’m listening.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and it wasn’t because of her writing getting rejected anymore. It was because of the man hovering over her. His head may by empty, but Aberdeen was sure his heart was full of gold. She didn’t know how she got so lucky. She didn’t know how he was hers. “I just don’t know how much more rejection I can take,” she whispered. “I try and I try and I write and I write and I read so I can write better and nothing is working. Nothing,” her voice was shaky. “I just want an editor to read my writing and say ‘This is what I’ve been looking for all along.’ But that hasn’t happened yet. And I’m scared it’s never going to happen.”

“It’ll happen one day, minskatt. I promise you,” William encouraged as he tightened his grip around her with his one arm. “You’re so talented. Your dreams are going to come true and you’re going to look back and wonder why you ever doubted yourself.”

“Do you doubt me?” she asked suddenly.

“No,” William said without hesitation. “Not for a second.”

Aberdeen stayed silent, bringing a hand up to wipe the few tears that had fallen down the side of her face. She rested it on William’s forearm draped across her body. “When I get like this, all my insecurities come out. About my future, about everything. Maybe I was never destined to be a writer. Maybe I was destined to be a personal assistant or a bank teller. Maybe I was destined just to be normal girl with a big nose and nothing special.”

“How can you say you’re nothing special when you’re my treasure?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of her neck and placing a light kiss there. She couldn’t help but smile, and he smiled at the fact he made her smile. “That has to count for something, right minskatt?” he stressed the word.

She nodded. “It counts for everything.” She looked directly into his baby blues, barely blinking. “The second I leave here I’m going to plant the biggest kiss on your lips, Willy. You have absolutely no idea.”

That caused William to laugh out loud before he bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “Not if I beat you to it,” he said.

“You won’t. Trust me. God, I can hardly wait,” she said. “I still don’t know why you keep waiting for me.”

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“I wait for you because I love you. Because I love everything about you.”

“Even my big nose?”

“My favourite part of you,” he kissed the tip of it. She could have cried again. “It’s what makes you you. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

When she craned her neck to kiss him, she made sure to wrap her arms around his body and pull him close, wanting to feel his body on top of hers. He got the hint, and stuck his tongue down her throat, and they kissed until he was hard again. Though he hadn’t expected a second round, he was more than willing to partake. He even made sure to bring extra condoms. He always did now – since Valentine’s Day. He had them everywhere: in his wallet, in his suitcase, in his shoe. “I love you minskatt,” he mumbled against her lips.

She didn’t respond at first. But when she did, it was with something he wasn’t expecting. “Tell me how you want me.”

He froze for a brief second, the previous conversation they were just having still fresh in his mind. “What?”

“Do you want me from behind? On top?” she asked in a breathy voice.

He groaned. “On top.”

They switched positions so he was lying on his back. Aberdeen climbed on top of him. “Willy?” she asked. “Can we…can we try something different?”

He nodded quickly. “What is it, Aberdeen?”

“Can we…” she began, almost a bit embarrassed. “Can I try reverse cowgirl?”

William couldn’t help but smile. “Of course,” he said, gripping at her hips.

“D’you have another condom?”

“My back pocket.”

She dismounted him, leaning over the bed to grab his pants on the floor and retrieve the packet. When she straddled him again, she did it so her back was to his face. He could feel her pump him a few times before she rolled on the condom, and he sighed at the feeling. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I love you, Willy.”

“I love you too,” he said, his hands back on her hips. He helped her lower herself onto him, the both of the moaning at the feeling. He loved watching himself disappear inside of her. He noticed she wasn’t moving yet. “You okay?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded her head. “It feels so good,” she said. “I’ve never…you know…”

“It’s okay,” he said, understanding what she wasn’t saying. He couldn’t believe that her previous sexual partners were so selfish that they never let her explore what she liked or what she could possibly like or positions she could do. He shuddered at the thought of her potentially asking and being turned down. It made him angry just thinking about it. He didn’t want her to be that way with him. He wanted her to be completely open. “Do what you feel comfortable with, minskatt.”

She began rolling her hips back and forth. William groaned in response, and he could feel Aberdeen’s hands grip his thighs and her nails dig in slightly. As she rocked herself on his cock, she began to moan, gasping out anytime William would buck his hips slightly. He had to admit he liked the view, but what he liked even more was that she was enjoying herself on top of him, doing what she wanted.

“Willy?” she asked suddenly. She looked over her shoulder at him again. She looked so innocent and he knew that she meant to do it, and he almost exploded right then and there as she bat her eyelashes at him. “Can you…can you come up here?”

He did as he was told, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around her body. He kissed her back and dragged his lips along her skin to her shoulder and neck. “What is it, minskatt?” he asked.

“What if I wanted to try more?”

If it was possible, William felt even hotter. The sound of her voice saying those words was…indescribable. “What do you mean?”

“You just make me feel so good. I’ve never had anybody make me feel this way. I feel so comfortable with you,” she said. “You…I feel safe to try things with you. Things I couldn’t try with other guys.”

He knew what she was getting at. He placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “What do you want to try?” he asked. She remained silent, wondering if she should have even said anything. “Don’t be ashamed, minskatt. What do you want me to do?”

She hesitated. “D’you…can you pinch my nipples?”

He smiled because it was such a simple request. He brought his hands up and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples between his thumb and index fingers. He felt her sharp intake of breath and her head leaned back into his shoulder. He could tell by her reaction that she wanted more. “What else?” he asked, biting down on her skin near her shoulder. “What are you not telling me?”

“That,” she stressed. He didn’t know what she meant. “The bite. You—You can fuck me, Willy. I want you to fuck me. You can be rougher with me. I think I’ll like it.”

When William heard those words and how she emphasized them, he wanted to make sure. Needed to make sure. The first time they had sex it was a good old-fashioned hookup. The second time they had sex they’d made love. In subsequent times since, it was mostly making love, if only because they had waited so long to finally be together and that was what they wanted to “release” – love. But now, with those words being said, he knew Aberdeen was ready to take the next step. She was willing to go further. She trusted him to go further with her, and only wanted to do it with him. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I trust you. Fuck me, Willy.”

He pinched her nipples again, harder this time, and she gasped. He started to move his hips too, moving inside of her, and she began to moan again. Without warning, he fell back down on the bed, bringing her with him so her back was flush against his chest, though her knees were still bent and he was still in her. This was definitely a new position for her, judging by her reaction – a quick “oh fuck” escaping her lips. He heard her breathing get heavier as she felt one of his hands snake down from her breasts and on to her clit. “Willy…” she moaned out.

He started pounding into her, using his athletic physique to be able to so with such force in a new angle she’d never felt before. Her moans fuelled him, and the moans changed to slight whimpers when he started rubbing at her clit. “Fuck, Willy…” she managed to get out.

But he wasn’t done. At least he didn’t want to be done. His other hand, still pinching her nipple, moved up to her neck. “Willy,” she mewled, bringing her own hand up and placing it over his.

“Is that okay?” he whispered into her ear. He wasn’t applying any pressure – it was just sort of there – but that was apparently enough for her. He wouldn’t have felt comfortable going further, anyway, at least without her verbalizing something.

“Yes Willy, fuck,” she arched her back. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

He increased his pace. Her cries let him know that even with those simple actions, she was feeling pleasure. She was liking it. She was getting what she wanted from him. That was the only thing he wanted. “I want you to cum all over my cock, Aberdeen,” he growled into her ear. She didn’t answer, but when she arched her back again, he felt her walls tighten around his cock and he knew she was done. He let himself find his release too, groaning in pleasure as her body writhed on top of his. He didn’t stop rubbing her clit until her hand went over his to stop him. Her body went still as he slipped out of her and she fell to his side, trying to regain her breath.

After a couple of minutes, she curled around to face him. “I know that was probably really tame but it was new for me.”

William shook his head. He didn’t want her to feel nervous about anything. “Baby steps,” he kissed her.

“No guy has ever, like…asked what I like in the bedroom,” she admitted. “So I couldn’t explore things. Well I didn’t feel comfortable exploring things. But I know I can with you.”

William nodded his head. “Don’t worry, minskatt. We can start slow. No need to rush. You can tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go.”

“You too.”

“Hmm?”

“You tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go, and I’ll go there with you too.”

He nodded his head, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too. More than anything.”

183 notes · View notes

jazy3 · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X10

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I loved this episode! It was so so good! I loved seeing Mark and Lexie on the beach encouraging Meredith to return. I knew Lexie was going to be back based on last week’s promo, but I literally screamed out loud twice when Mark appeared on screen! I was shocked! I like what Mark and Lexie said to Meredith about the sand not being real and that the beach was in Meredith’s head and was her happy place and that it wasn’t real. She was in control even if she didn’t feel like it. Seeing her lost loved ones comforts her in her time of need. When living people she loves come to talk to her she sees them because it’s comforting.

I have a theory about who we see and why. Since this episode establishes that the beach is in Meredith’s head and she can go back if she wants to I think DeLuca appearing on the beach and them getting closer and her watching him reunite with his mother was her brain’s interpretation of people coming into her room and telling her that DeLuca had been injured and needed surgery and that he was stable and then telling her that he wasn't and had died from his injuries.

She needed closure on a tumultuous relationship so her COVID wrecked brain gave it to her in the form of a peaceful COVID fever dream during a difficult team. She sees and hears Hayes because she’s falling for him the same way that he’s falling for her and because he’s talking about her kids who she loves. She wants to go back but she’s doesn’t know how. She sees Richard and Bailey and hears their concerns and how worried they are about her because Richard is like a father to her and Bailey is a maternal figure in her life.

She wants to go back and as George says to her if she doesn’t it will break Richard. She sees Derek because he’s the love of her life and he represents death and passing over which is a real possibility and option. His presence comforts her in a way that no one else’s can. She sees George because what he did and how he died changed her life and they never got to have that closure in life. She never got to tell him that, but in her fever dream she does. She gets that closure and gets to re-examine why she did what she did. Why she goes all out for everyone like he did.

Seeing Mark and Lexie gives her closure too. Lexie provides that joy and that sunny optimism Meredith used to hate but eventually grew to love and missed so much when she died. Mark provides laughter and gives her the matter of fact tough love that she needs to hear in her time of need. Everyone plays a part and brings us joy and closure in the process. I loved Mark’s lines about how sometimes he yells in everyone’s ears to try and get them to listen and see reason. How sometimes people listen to him and think it’s their own idea and sometimes they don’t. How Callie and Arizona’s divorce made him shout.

It made me think of all the times when Lexie and Mark and other characters probably shouted at the living characters for their stupidity. Meredith deciding to waste her time dating DeLuca? Lexie and Derek definitely yelled in her ears for that. Every stupid fight, divorce, break up, date, and bad decision the characters have made since Derek, Mark, Lexie, and George died? They’ve definitely screamed their ears off at them. We now know that George tries to shake the grief out of his mother and Mark and Lexie make a habit of yelling in the ears of their loved ones making horrible decisions. I love it!

There’s something so hilarious and reassuring about the dead who have left us yelling and shaking us from beyond the grave and us taking that as a sign or our own idea and moving forward and making better decisions. I loved seeing Meredith talk about Bailey’s birthday party with Lexie and how what he really wanted for his birthday was for all of them to laugh. That establishes that Bailey’s birthday is in March or April. Which again makes that gelato DeLuca comment from Episode 8 literally impossible because he couldn’t have brought Bailey gelato for his actual or half birthday when he and Meredith only dated for a few months and he only met her kids officially a few weeks before they broke up.

Hayes’ storyline with his sister-in-law Irene was everything! We learned more about her, got to see what her relationship with Hayes is like, and learned more about how his boys are handling everything. He got his own storyline and development. I love it! His tour of the hospital on the way to the OR was hilarious! “And that is a supply closet!” LOL! I loved how supportive Irene was of him moving on. She really wanted to meet Meredith this great General Surgeon he keeps talking about all the time to his boys to the point that she knows all about her and knows that Hayes is definitely smitten. I loved her line when Hayes told her she couldn’t meet Meredith because she was on a ventilator and she looked at him and said, “Again?”

The fact that she knows he likes her because of the way he smiles every time he talks about her to the point that the boys have picked up on it and told her? My heart! Irene really came through for us in this episode! Bless her! Hayes was so distraught this episode. I like that they really showed his process and how upset he was that Meredith was still on a vent and that Irene was sick. His pain when he talked to Jo about how he couldn’t bear to tell his boys that they had lost another person that they love whose been taking care of them was heart wrenching.

Irene is a total badass. The information we’ve gotten about her shows what a fiercely loyal and supportive person she is. Cormac and Abigail meet at the Surgical Innovation Conference in LA when Abigail is a starving artist and Cormac is early on in his medical career. His conversations with Meredith show that he’s unfamiliar with American medical terms and colloquialisms and he talks about growing up in Ireland and how every day is Pro Bono Surgery Day there. We know that after his wife died he took his boys and moved to Zurich, Switzerland where he worked for two years before moving to the U.S.A. to take the job in Seattle.

We also know that Irene was Abigail’s POA when she was sick and that prior to the pandemic she was back living in LA. All of which implies that sometime after Abigail and Cormac met she decided to move to Ireland to be with him and they got married and she gave birth to Liam and Austin while Hayes was a practising surgeon in Ireland. But that when Abigail got sick Irene gave up her life in LA to move to Ireland for several years to be her sister’s POA and support her nephews and brother-in-law.

Abigail ultimately died and following that Cormac took Liam and Austin and moved to Zurich at which point Irene moved back to LA where she was living during Season 16 when they went to visit her during the Conference Episode. When the COVID-19 Pandemic hit the U.S. Irene then insisted on moving to Seattle to care for Liam and Austin while Cormac worked at Grey Sloan. Cormac and Irene drive each other crazy and agree on nothing and her own sister called her crazy before she died and yet she picked up and moved her whole life across the Atlantic and then to a different state for them. That’s love. That’s badass. You keep doing you Irene!

The scenes with Jo and Catherine in the OR cracked me up! "Child, who throws away a kidney? Lord." Haha! I loved Jo’s reaction when Catherine brought up switching careers. At first, I was confused as to why Jo lied, but then my friend Amy who I watch with pointed out that maybe Jo doesn’t want her boss to know she’s considering switching specialties just yet. I’d honestly like to see Jo switch from General to Urology. As Catherine says there are few women in the field and there are a lot of general surgeons on this show.

Jo switching from one surgical specialty to another to find joy and challenge herself makes sense to me. Her switching from general surgery to OBGYN does not. I thought she was going to adopt that baby Luna but then she told Jackson and Link that she doesn’t want to have children now or maybe ever and their scene this episode was pretty short. I thought when she was considering switching to OBGYN that either Carina or Hayes would train her.

But they’ve moved Carina over to Station 19 so completely that her brother died on Grey’s Anatomy and we only saw her briefly at the end of Episode 8 when she attended her brother’s memorial. Prior to this episode I would have described Jo and Hayes as friends, but they were pretty adversarial this episode and at this point they seem to be two people that like each other well enough and who respect each other’s surgical skills and that’s it. So, based on this week’s episode Hayes definitely isn’t going to step up and train Jo in his specialty. They’re not close enough and he’s got enough on the go.

I loved the scene where Jo and Jackson were in bed together and Jo started talking about how scary his Mom was and he was like why are you talking about my Mom when we’re naked together? It reminded me of how April thought his Mom was the coolest and walked on water and would talk about it when they were together. Made me laugh! I love seeing Maggie innovate and find a way to help those poor patients and double the hospital’s ventilator capacity!

Seeing Richard dance it out at the news and then again when him and Owen successfully took Meredith off the vent and she began breathing on her own was glorious! Such joy! Winston’s proposal and Maggie’s acceptance of it surprised me! I like them together and want them to get their happy ending, but this feels a bit sudden likely brought on by all the stress they are experiencing.

I mean Amelia and Link have a child together and are also co-parenting Leo and Allison with Teddy and Owen and are raising a boatload of children during the pandemic and they’re not married or engaged. It was nice that Teddy and Owen finally stopped fighting after half a season of nonsense! That was nice. I loved how Amelia stepped up and supported Teddy and told her what she needed to hear. Yeah therapy sucks sometimes. It can be uncomfortable. So are mammograms.

We still get them! You have to put in the work to get better otherwise it doesn’t happen. I like that they are showing us the process of Teddy getting better while making sure that the kids are looked after. Teddy is doing a bit better, but she’s still not well enough to be looking after Leo and Allison by herself without supervision and since Amelia is at home anyways she might as well help.

Plus, it’s probably good for Leo and Allison to play with Zola, Bailey, and Ellis. They’ve only seen Owen and his Mom for two months. I liked the moment where Teddy said that Ellis looked like Amelia and that they really are sisters. She’s Meredith’s daughter, but she’s clearly picked up some of Amelia’s mannerisms because Amelia’s helping to raise her. Which does happen. Also, she’s Derek’s daughter too and since Amelia and Derek are siblings and share a resemblance it makes sense that she might also share traits with Ellis. I like that we are learning more about Bailey and Ellis this season.

Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces, including Zola’s, when Owen came in and told everyone that they took Meredith off the vent and that she was breathing on her was palpable. Such a great moment! I loved the moment where Tom was holding a rosary praying for Meredith and Owen finally stopped being a jerk for five seconds to comfort him and tell him about his own experience with survivor’s guilt after coming back from Iraq after his entire platoon was killed.

I’d like to see them explore Tom’s relationship with faith more. Something else I loved? The texts from Cristina! Loved it! Owen was like I can read her charts myself and Cristina was like I don’t care take a picture! I love that we’ve seen Cristina through text messages the last two seasons. I really miss her. Also is anyone updating Alex? I feel like they are, but I would love to see them mention or show it on screen. Same with Callie and Arizona. I felt like Hayes was the obvious choice for keeping Cristina up to date but seeing as he has a lot going on this episode my guess is that she texted him and he didn’t respond because he was too busy worrying about Irene so she texted Owen and asked for an update.

Did anyone else feel like it was hypocritical for Owen to be so mad at Teddy for still being in love with Allison and not telling him about their relationship when he’s apparently been texting Cristina about Meredith’s condition and talking to Amelia regularly this whole time? He clearly still has feelings for both of them and they are still very much alive and in communication with him and he’s mad that Teddy didn’t tell him about a dead lover? Jerk.

I loved seeing Levi step up and step into his own as a doctor. He’s no longer the bumbling fool of seasons past. He’s got his crap together and he’s going to do what needs to be done to keep his patient alive and healthy. His song about hump day cracked me up! Link was so happy to be operating this episode LOL! His comment about the poop diaper explosion was something else. Seeing Richard’s anger and frustration and seeing him explain how he was feeling to Link felt raw and really expressed how we’re all feeling like now. The fact that being low on ventilators is a real problem that hospitals have been facing ever since the pandemic started is enraging! I hate that this is real.

I hate that real hospitals with real patients have to make these kinds of calls. Health care providers are real superheroes. I could never make a decision like that. How do you decide who lives and who dies? How do you decide who needs a ventilator most and live with the consequences for you and the patient? I couldn’t do it. I love that Meredith appears to be waking up in next week’s promo. My bet is that she’s going to reunite with Derek one last time and then wake up. I’m interested to see Richard fill her in on what’s being going on and to see Amelia and Link talk about the possibility of getting married at some point. Also, can we take a moment to appreciate shirtless Link? Hot!

Until next time!

31 notes · View notes

astrovian · 4 years

Audio

Richard Armitage interview on BBC Radio Somerset for Uncle Vanya (25/10/20)

Full transcript under cut

Now the moment you’ve all be waiting for, particularly if you’re female – some proper eye-candy on this show okay, not just me. ‘Kay, some proper stardom. Richard Armitage has been in so much television okay, let’s give you a bit of an idea as to what he’s been in over the years. Of course, he started off in North & South back in 2004. He was Lucas North in the British TV drama Spooks. He was in Castlevania, he was in Robin Hood. He’s done so much work for The Royal Shakespeare Company. But for lots of you, you’ll have seen him in Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit. Here’s him talking a little bit about his role.

[Clip from The Hobbit interview – I play a character called Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the last King Under the Mountain. There’s a direct descent from the royal line, which is myself, Thorin, and Fíli and Kíli, who are nephews by my sister]

Now, I’ve never seen The Hobbit, but whenever I think of Richard Armitage, it’s always- he was the guy in the last couple of episodes of The Vicar of Dibley.

[Clip from The Vicar of Dibley]

Brilliant, from Dibley to the valleys of New Zealand. Fantastic. Really pleased we can say we can speak to Richard Armitage on the show this afternoon to talk about his brand new film. Good afternoon, Richard. Thanks for joining us on the Sunday show. How are you?

I’m very good. How are you?

I’m great, thanks. Now, I say good afternoon, but you’re in New York, so it’s good morning to you over there.

Good morning. Yes.

Now you’ve done so much TV and film it’s ridiculous. If I sat here and listed out all the stuff you’ve done, we’d be here all day. However, we’re chatting about the latest one. Am I saying it right – Uncle ‘Van-ya’ or ‘Va-nya’? I’ve always said ‘Va-nya’.

You can say either, I mean a lot of the actors in our play were sort of from the North or from Ireland, and so we were calling him ‘Van-ya’. Sort of has a nicer ring to it, doesn’t it?

Yeah, let’s go with Uncle ‘Van-ya’. Yeah, now this is the-

Uncle ‘Van-ya’.

Now this is on Tuesday, you can see this from Tuesday onwards. Give us a bit of backstory. You were doing this as a play, but then Covid hit and it all had to change, is that right?

Yeah, we were in the middle of a, of a sixteen-week run and we’d-, we got through about ten weeks, and then we came in on a Monday morning and theatres were closed and we, we all had to go home. But it was something that we knew was coming, obviously Broadway had closed the week before us, and uh, so the chance to come back, even in a really still very difficult working environment, to, to sort of re-stage the play for film was something I think we were all incredibly grateful for.

Because not every play’s doing that – lots of plays have closed and we don’t know when they’re gonna re-open. But it must be a great thing to have because not every play was having that, were-, you know some of them were still just waiting for their moment to open up again.

Yes, and I mean National Theatre Live and Digital Theatre, they do film theatre, but they usually do it with a, with an audience in place, and that’s part of the, the thrill of it. But we had to- or, Sonya Friedman and her team had to sort of re-imagine what it might be like without an audience, and so this is a kind of hybrid film really, it-, we’re still in a theatre, but we’re much more kind of involved in the play and the camera comes into the stage and we see a little bit more than a regular production. But yeah, I feel very lucky that we were able to do this.

So it’s not like if you, if we had gone and seen it before it closed we’re obviously sat there looking on, but in this, in this version, the camera’s on the stage with you, you’re pretty much right in with the action, aren’t you?

You’re right in there, and I think that’s one of the, one of the y’know, unusual experiences, that that’s often not possible because you can’t, y’know, disrupt an audience’s viewpoint, so we tend, y’know, we tend to see theatre and hear an audience. Which, we lose the sound of an audience and that was very important with this play because the play is a comedy and y’know, the audience participation is, is really quite important. But it’s still a-, an interesting experience without the audience. In fact, there’s this sort of sadness for the audience’s lack, y’know.

Your character, you’re Astrov, is that right?

Yeah, I am. I’m the doctor.

Tell me a bit about him. What’s he like?

Well, he’s a bit of an outsider to this, to the family. Um, he’s, um, turned to drink because he is traumatised by losing patients, um, he’s working in a, in a region that’s suffering from an epidemic. At the same time, he’s recognising that his small corner of the world is being depleted environmentally, and so he’s, he’s, he’s an environmentalist. He’s planting trees and trying to sort of sustain his natural habitat, and he has a theory as to what, y’know, why people are sick and why our society is sick. And so, in terms of relevance, I think it, it sort of rang a lot of bells. Um, but he, y’know, in terms of his journey through the play, he finds love. Y’know, he talks early on in the play about not feeling anything because he’s been so battered down by his, his work, but he finds love and, um, is rejected. And you know, that’s the tragedy of Chekov, is that everyone’s in love with the wrong person.

And Chekov plays are very well-known, and they’re incredibly written as well. For you as an actor, to say you’re doing Chekov in the West End, or in this case in the cinema, that must be wonderful.

Yeah, it always sounds very kind of, um, highbrow, but Chekov didn’t write that many plays, and he’s also – y’know, he was a doctor as well himself. So there’s always a doctor in his plays. He writes about people, and I think that’s what attracts actors to this work. He doesn’t, he’s not so focused on the plot, he’s very much about the human experience and how we attract and repel each other. And he’s also a great purveyor of comedy and, y’know, finding fun with our, our flaws, and I think people will watch this after living in lockdown for six months, watching these people in a house that can’t get away from each other and are, y’know, ripping shreds, tearing shreds off of each other and, and kind of going out of their heads, and I think audiences will understand what Chekov was all about.

And this is available from Tuesday, unclevanyacinema.com, but you’re over in New York, so are you on the next project already, or are you doing something over there?

No, this is, this is where I, I live when I’m not working. But I’ll be back in, in England next year, I’m working on another Netflix show, so that will be good.

Now, when I said that Richard Armitage was coming on, it was- oh, the ladies, they go mad you know, ‘cause you’re so damn good-looking. And all these people, they’re on about the blimming Hobbit and all that sort of stuff, which is fantastic. But for me, do you know what thrills me most about you?

Go on.

You’re the guy that married Dawn French in The Vicar of Dibley. That’s the first thing that comes to my mind-

*Laugh* I knew you were gonna say that.

I know that for a lot of people it’s The Hobbit, and I know how big those sort of things are, and I know how good this, this new film is, but for me, you say ‘Richard Armitage’, he’s the guy who was nearly cheated on Dawn French.

Thanks for that.

No, not on-

He wasn’t cheatin’ on her.

He wasn’t, but she thought he was. But you’ve done so much-

Maybe they’ll re-run it at Christmas, who knows.

Oh, they re-run it all the time, Vicar of Dibley. Can’t move for it.

Do they?

Oh, they can’t move for it. UK Gold, it’s on every half hour. I hope you’re getting royalties for all these repeats.

I do too! I didn’t know it was on.

Oh, it’s on all the time. On all the time! But when you, when Covid’s out of the way as such, do you go back on stage with this, or has that sort of run its course now as a play, and you’re just gonna, it’s new life is now in the cinema?

I, yeah, I don’t think we’ll get the chance to go back, and I think that’s to do with the theatre is now being handed over to the fantastic David Tennant who’s gonna perform there-

Of course.

And the set is gonna be taken away, so I think this was a last chance to, to sort of discover the, this play. But I’m thrilled it’s on film, y’know. Film is forever, so…

That’s a good thing. I will just- if I don’t do twenty seconds on, twenty seconds on The Hobbit, the people will go mad. Great thing to be involved in, is it still something people ask you about?

It’s massive, I mean it was such a huge part of my life as well. Life-changing, y’know, going to New Zealand and working with one of my cinematic idols, y’know, Peter Jackson and that whole cast was, was phenomenal, and y’know, one of my favourite childhood books, so I, I couldn’t have asked- it was a dream come true really. And I, uh, still have incredible memories of that time.

So, Uncle Vanya, okay, is out from Tuesday, unclevanyacinema.com, but to be honest with you-

.com!

I’ve just been doing some googling, and if you just type in to any search engine ‘Uncle Vanya’, it comes up as the top listing. I mean there’s some great reviews for it as well-

Brilliant! And have you been to the cinema in this time?

I haven’t!

Are you getting out and going?

No, I haven’t been, that’s what I’m thinking, I should go and do it.

Give it a shot! I’ve done it, I did it a few times while I was there, and y’know, if you do obey all the rules and let the cinema take, y’know, do what you’re ‘sposed to do, wear the mask, it’s fine. It feels like normality. I mean, it’s like a Tuesday afternoon when there’s not that many people in there, but it’s still, y’know, still worth it.

I’m not minding that you see, ‘cause you’re guaranteed-

No.

-not to be next to someone who’s gonna be eating their popcorn in your face.

Chewing their popcorn.

Yeah.

Exactly.

That’s it. Or you get the couple in the back getting off with each other. I’m quite glad to be on my own there watching.

*Laugh*

That’s absolutely fine.

Is that what happens in cinemas in Somerset there?

Oh, it does, it does. Not-

*Laugh*

-not as much as I’d like. Well, look, Richard, it’s been a pleasure to speak to you, you are a gentleman, and I’ll give you a big plug again, Uncle Vanya comes out on Tuesday, unclevanyacinema.com, the reviews are great, it’s got five stars everywhere. Thanks so much for your time.

Thanks Andy.

#@netflix give us the show info you cowards #also imagine going to the cinema and richard armitage is just casually sitting near you #richard armitage

61 notes · View notes

princessnijireiki · 4 years

Text

anyway, quick health updates, all positive!

definitely got a STRANGE call from one of the staff members at the covid vaccine study I'm in— I just got blood drawn with them on tuesday because of how sick I was last month (I still have some lingering sinus weirdness but I'm otherwise recovered), and they called me technically after close of business on friday & told me to call back at ANY time on ANY date if I need ANYTHING or start feeling unwell etc...

(bonus bc my sister's in the same study and has gotten VERY different information + calls than me, like last time she spoke to them they were saying once the study wrapped, they could take participants who'd gotten the placebo & then give them the vaccine, that sort of thing; NOBODY has even HINTED at that with me)

so my takeaway is either, A) I'm fine & that person was just being overly friendly & enthusiastic, if a bit weird, while doing a randomly timed courtesy call towards the end of their study, or B) I got the actual vaccine & tested negative for live virus but positive for blood antibodies, and they can't officially say anything because it's a double blind study, but the timing is because I really DO need to stay in touch if I get sick again for real because it's pertinent data

ALSO... I have been stressing about lyrica access re: the gov't paperwork I need to maintain my current local low income health coverage. BUT since 2020 felt 4.5 years long, I forgot generic pregabalin became legally available stateside in Q3 or Q4 of 2019, and it's A) widely available now! and 2) with goodrx it's ONLY $20/MONTH, UNINSURED!!!!!

it's still a controlled substance, which is a pain in my ass, so I have to see a doctor every 1-3mos. to get a prescription on paper. BUT considering I've spent 4 years eyeball deep in the unemployed poverty struggle— couldn't risk earning too much & let even a min wage part time job jeopardize my sub-poverty-line benefits when name-brand lyrica is $500+/mo unless you enroll in pfizer's patient assistance program, which still requires you to see a doctor regularly anyway— it's a real blessing & a joy to have those shackles that were tethering me to "big pharma" dependency released, and know that even if my paperwork gets temporarily held up, or even if it NEVER comes through, that I can finally afford to let go of that fear of that specific potential suffering, and I can afford to choose how I live in a way that my hands have been tied before, for a very long time. 💗

so yeah, it's funny! it's a funny thing to feel celebratory about! to feel, like, cryptic hints that I MAY have gotten SICK-sick, and to find out I'm ABLE TO AFFORD my meds now, even though I'm still uninsured with a garbage resumé, like I've never been so happy to face the prospect of spending $20. but I am. I really am happy, and nothing can fuck that up for me today. :)

#health #i was surprised my last couple posts got as many notes as they did too!#so thank you all for keeping tabs on me & rooting for me even when I'm just being sick or anxious! it really does mean a lot 💛#but fr i really was stressing myself OUT over a problem that doesn't exist anymore or at least on that scope...#it's so good to be able to laugh & let those feelings go flying away like throwing paper into the wind!

20 notes · View notes

punkpoemprose · 4 years

Text

December 6th- Fuck 2020

Universe: Modern AU Rating: M (Mature, a little explicit, this is porn without plot for the most part) Length: 4383 Words A/N: The title says it all. This fic is about Kristoff and Anna having sex on New Years Eve. TW: Mentions of COVID-19, quarantine, and generally the shittyness of this year. This is the last of my decades AUs. Hopefully someday someone will write something more flattering for the 2020′s.

Anna closed her laptop and collapsed back onto the couch. She was exhausted mentally and emotionally, but her body wasn’t tired enough to let her sleep. It had been what she’d been suffering with all year, or at least since March when the world had gone from its usual level of chaos to being utter and total bedlam. She still remembered the day she’d learned that her kids wouldn’t be coming back to the classroom, and the only slightly more terrifying day where she learned that they would, in fact be coming back.

Her head was still awash with words she’d never thought she’d need to say to a room full of five-year-olds. We have to keep our masks on. Remember, six feet apart guys, that’s like two big dogs in a line. No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a hug. She’d had to separate desks, and clean and not wipe away little tears like she normally would when a child was having a bad day.

The kids, she thought, had held up better than she had. They’d listened as well as they could, they’d followed the rules as much as they were able, and they were kind about the policies in a way that even grown adults were not. But even with all the work they’d done, even with all the kids doing their best, the second wave had hit, and now they wouldn’t be returning to school until after the middle of January, and then when it finally came about, it would be online. There was talk of vaccines in the news, and while it gave her some small spark of hope, all the changes have meant turning her holiday break into lots of online classroom prep.

It still wasn’t the worst though, she’d rather be tired than sick, and she couldn’t help but relax a bit and listen to the shower running in the next room over.

Kristoff had been given the afternoon shift for New Year’s Eve, and as per their new normal, he’d stripped down at the door after returning to their apartment, tossed all his things into the wash, and was currently showering. In the beginning, before they’d known just how bad things were, before PPE was supplied to every EMT in the county, he’d caught it.

Anna had remembered the pain of having to see him so ill, watching him suffer through what was determined to be a “mild” case of the virus while he was sequestered to their bedroom and she spent the week sleeping on the couch and barely seeing him at all except to occasionally bring him something to eat when he’d felt particularly weak. There was something particularly terrifying in watching the strongest person Anna knew, her rock, her one and only, barely able to take care of himself. He’d insisted the whole time, vehemently, that she leave to stay with her sister on the other side of town, be she’d been unable to bring herself to do it. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave him alone when he was so sick she wasn’t sure if he’d make it through.

But, of course, he had. His voice had been strange and unlike him for weeks after he was cleared, and Anna had spent many nights in a cold sweat thinking about just how close he’d been to being in much worse shape. They’d started their procedure then, come in the door, take off your clothes, wash anything that went into work with you, and then shower. She’d done it too, but to less of an extreme because while she’d been around kids who had potentially been sick, he spent every day with Sven facing the positively ill together and trying their best to keep them well enough to get to the hospital.

The mental strain it was putting on them, Anna having to worry everyday about him getting sick again, or one of her students or even herself catching it was a lot. But Kristoff, kind and wonderful man that he was, kept checking in at the hospital to learn whether the transports he and Sven had brought in had made it. She saw the darkness in his eye, behind his attempts at levity, on the days where they lost someone.

The water shut off, and Anna let herself imagine him behind the door, stepping out of the shower, putting his towel on, walking over to the mirror to shave and comb his wet hair. He’d started keeping it shorter than usual as a precaution, and while he always looked handsome, Anna missed the days where she’d been able to put short braids into his hair and then comb them out with her fingers. She missed the days where he’d come home, flop onto the couch and that would be the end of things until one of them made dinner.

“Hey,” he said, as she heard the bathroom door open and shut, “Are you asleep or?”

She opened her eyes and tipped her head, looking at him from across the room. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, nothing fancy because of course, despite it being New Year’s Eve, they weren’t going out anywhere. She was dressed similarly, but overtop her plain shirt, she’d thrown on her nicest cardigan, creating the illusion for the videos she’d pre-recorded, that she wasn’t on her couch in her pajamas, but instead was dressed in full teacher gear and was to be listen to closely.

“I don’t think I can do an early bedtime tonight,” she said, “Or even a nap. I have to be awake to see this year end.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t so much the sort of laugh he did when he thought she was being funny. It was much more of a chuckle, as if he were going to follow it with an expression of agreement. They both were rather done with the year, just like everyone else they knew. No one wanted to be living through a pandemic.

“Just imagine,” he said, “Maybe next year we’ll actually be able to go on a date or something.”

“Or,” Anna replied sadly, “Actually be able to reschedule our wedding.”

They’d planned a June wedding the year before. It was going to be a small affair. Just his family, Elsa, and some friends from work. They were going to have it at a ski-lodge in the mountains that also doubled as a summertime spa and nature retreat so that it would be like a vacation for everyone who attended. She could still imagine the way that they’d wanted to decorate the place, all sunflowers and mason jars and white ribbons. She had bought a dress and everything, and it was still stored in her sister’s bedroom closet.

They’d pushed it to August, but had given up on it past that, knowing as soon as September hit and she returned to school with in person students, that nothing would be changing anytime soon. Even her hope for the next year was a tentative thing, like a butterfly with a broken wing trying its damnedest to fly.

“Fuck 2020,” she said quietly, noticing the way he frowned at the mention of their cancelled wedding. He’d been looking forward to it as well, and she knew that this year had been just as upsetting for him as it had been for her. She tried not to swear very often, particularly because she was worried about being able to censor herself around the kids, but ultimately, the year deserved a middle finger and some very strong language.

He crossed the space and took her laptop from where it rested on her stomach, placing it carefully on the coffee table before he scooped her too, up and off the couch. He never had much trouble lifting her, but each time he did so unexpectedly, she was half afraid of falling. She flailed for a half a second in his arms, gasping at the change in height as it occurred.

“I’d like that,” he said with a grin, “The wedding. I know it’s just a formality, and that we’ve agreed not to do it at a courthouse or anything, but I’m so ready to call you Mrs. Bjorgman.”

“And have my students confused?” she teased, “Maybe you should be Mr. Arendelle.”

He laughed at that, but the shrugged and started walking in the direction of their bedroom, holding her bridal style as if it were already all over and done with.

“Why are we heading to bed?” she asked, only allowing herself a little hopefulness beyond her confusion. She knew why she’d like to be heading to bed, but maybe, she reasoned, he was just tired and wanted some company for a nap.

“You said, ‘fuck 2020’.”

She could see the cheeky smile on his face as he glanced down at her, still heading toward the bedroom, like a man on a mission.

“It sounded like a good idea to me.”

***

“So,” Anna said from her place below him on their bed, “In this analogy am I 2020 or?”

Kristoff laughed, and she was treated with a kiss on her knuckles as she obediently raised her arms up for him to remove her shirt. His laugh was one of the things that got her through the day, knowing that he could find humor in any situation, that she could make him laugh, was a blessing. It made things feel normal, and it was a joy for them both that they sorely needed.

“No. It’s more like we fuck each other, and we get a little extra enjoyment out of the year ending. Honestly, I didn’t think it through very much, I just wanted you and it seemed like a good excuse.”

That made her laugh, and she nodded appreciatively at the sentiment. She didn’t think that they needed to really contemplate it much as she was just happy with the opportunity to enjoy her fiancé for a little while.

“It’s a good way to pass the time until midnight,” she offered once she was free of her shirt, “I’m sure we’ll manage to keep each other awake.”

Her hands went up his shirt in return, letting her fingers travel over his the soft but muscled planes of his torso until he too removed his shirt, giving her better access to touch him as she leaned up to allow him to undo her bra’s clasps.

“It’s what? Seven?” He asked, tossing her bra in a rapidly growing pile of their clothes, “I can’t promise five hours straight, but I’ll do my best.”

His hands went up her sides, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively at the dips of her waist and across her ribs until they came up to he breasts. He cupped them gently first, and her hands moved to tracing up and down in spine in return as they found a comfortable position where she was somewhat seated in his lap, facing him. He pinched a nipple and she treated him to an appreciative moan and dragged her nails, lightly down his back.

They hadn’t had much time for intimacy as of late. Between what they both experienced at work and the stress of the holidays, even from a socially distanced standpoint, they’d mostly been using their bed for sleeping. It felt good for it to be put to better use.

“Of course, we’ll need to take a break for dinner. Maybe you’ll need a second shower with some company. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

The appreciative almost growl he made as he ducked his head down to her neck went straight through her spine and made her want to peel the rest of their clothes off and get down to business immediately. Shared shower or not, she already knew that she’d need to change her panties. If, of course, he was planning on letting her put any on before the next morning.

He squeezed and kneaded her breasts while his lips kissed down her neck and she allowed herself to surrender to his touch. Everything around her was Kristoff, his hands and mouth on her, the smell of his shampoo all she could smell as she tilted her neck to give him better access and shifted a hand up to his still wet hair. Despite him being fresh from the shower and in the cooler air of their bedroom, he was hot to the touch, exactly what she wanted as her hair stood on end from the temperature and his touch.

He moved lower then, his head ducking down to lave attention on her nipples as one arm wrapped around her back to support her leaning away and the other moved down, down, across her lower stomach and to the place where her waistband still sat.

“Off?” she asked, the word all she could form as she gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth sucking and nipping at her.

“Not yet,” he replied, barely moving his mouth from her as he answered and switched sides, leaving her wet nipple to pebble against the cold.

His fingers slid a bit lower still, under the waistband of her pants, but not into her underwear as he dipped her even lower.

His arm was strong at her back, keeping her aloft and exactly where he wanted her, even as she squirmed and bucked her hips against the hand that was moving closer and closer to her clit. She knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t keep her from jumping when his fingers grazed her through the fabric. He knew that she was sensitive, that he needed to work her up to his direct touch, let alone anything more. They’d had their fair share of quickies of course, but when he wanted things to last, when he wanted to see her come again and again, he worked her up first.

Anna moaned, and arched in his arms, not so much from the sensation, but from the promise it offered. He really was going to try to make this last all night long.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same question.”

She gasped as he slowly stroked his fingers up and down her, no doubt feeling how wet she was through her panties but not commenting on it. Instead, using his mouth to once again kiss down her body, moving from the valley between her breasts lower and lower, tipping her back onto the bed as he went.

Not to be outdone, Anna reached up to him as she was leaned back, letting her hands travel down and over his back, reaching for his rear and giving it a squeeze. He laughed against her skin, and she felt rather satisfied by the sound as he picked up the pace on her clit and kissed her navel. Her hands slipped forward then, moving across the waistline of his sweatpants, and dipping her fingers below them as he had.

It was a bit of an awkward angle, but she did her best to wrap her hand around him. It was a challenge, but it was worthwhile to hear his breathing quicken when she managed to slide her hand up and down over his already hard cock through the fabric of his boxers. She recalled the first time they had done this, what felt like many years before, but was just a little over a year and a half ago. She remembered touching him for the first time and being scared that she wouldn’t be able to take him. The thought would have made her laugh now, if it weren’t for the fact that his attention on her clit was making her gasp instead.

When his lips had kissed as low as possible in their current position, he sat up a bit and slipped his hand from her pants. He offered her a questioning look, as he always did, and Anna stroked him again in response, sliding her hand up and down his length and rotating her wrist a bit as she did so, knowing that it was what he liked.

“Off?”

“Off,” she replied, finalizing the unspoken agreement in words before adding, “You too.”

He nodded and she rubbed her thumb against his head before she too extracted her hand, giving him a small taste of what was to come. She fully intended to take him into her mouth if he would let her. It had been too long since she’d seen him fall apart like that, staring down at her with dark eyes and strong muscles trembling under the weight of his climax.

Maybe, she thought, she might even do it while he was laying down, so she could feel him under her and enjoy the building of tension in his body that always came before the release that left him panting and melting beneath her. She loved that he let her give him pleasure. There was so much he did everyday for her, all the care to not get her ill, the many nights he cooked dinner after a long shift, how he always listened to her stresses before offering up his own, and she liked to return his kindnesses in the bedroom.

He pushed himself up and off of her, pulling his pants down with one hand, using the other in a delightful display of his strength to hold himself aloft. He kicked them off a bit creatively, one leg at a time as if he were doing some kind of strange yoga, but never removing his eyes from her as he watched her buck her hips up and slide her own bottoms off.

He tossed them both somewhere to join their pile, and they were left, staring into each other’s eyes wearing nothing but their underwear.

She shivered a bit, both from the intensity if his gaze and the cool air around her. He noticed, his gaze softening as he lowered himself to her a bit and pressed a kiss to her lips. She responded by tipping her head up a bit, deepening the kiss as her arms raised up to wrap around his back and pull him down onto her.

“I’ll have to see if I can warm you up,” he said, their temperature differences more evident as his chest pressed into hers.

He was making a valiant effort, despite her pulling him down, to not crush her under his weight. There had been occasions where he’d allowed his whole weight to press down onto her, and while she didn’t exactly consider him light by any instance of the word, he wasn’t ever going to crush her quite so much as he made an excellent weighted blanket when he wanted to be.

His tone was lascivious though. There was no doubt in Anna’s mind as his hips rocked gently into hers that his plan for warming her up included more of the touching he’d just been doing moments before. When he kissed her again and let his lips trail, once more down her body, lower and lower, she knew that there would be nothing so simple as a blanket in his plans to warm her.

When he reached the waistband of her panties he didn’t stop, instead mouthing at her through the fabric, causing her to call his name and tangle her fingers into his hair. She felt his breath on her, hot, the inhalations and exhalations adding to the sensation as his lips nipped carefully at her clit. He slid down after a few moments, pressing kisses to her labia and center through the fabric, nudging her bud with his nose.

He could be devious with his mouth, a fact that she took immense pleasure in. He could kiss her mouth and pussy with equal skill, and she knew it came from a combination of natural talent, and plenty of practice with her and only her. His mouth could bring her to heights she’d never been able to reach alone, and the anticipation of him doing so had her trembling.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, glancing up at her from between her legs, seeking permission as he always did.

“Yes. Always.”

It was all he needed, flashing her a smile as he hooked his thumb under her waistband and pulled.

She lifted her hips obediently and was rewarded with an appreciative squeeze on her rear as he tugged the fabric off her. When it got to her knees, he leaned back and she set her bottom back onto her bed, watching him whip the fabric off her legs and onto the floor.

She would not be looking for them, she decided ultimately, until laundry day.

He spread her legs a bit more and rearranged them both on the bed until she had two pillows under her rear, elevating her, and he was half kneeling before her.

Once the matter of fabric and positioning was settled, he set upon her like a man starved. Evidently the foreplay had been enough for him, and she already felt it was enough for her, when he kissed her clit again, and then set to running his tongue over her. He went from the bottom of her slit, tasting her and groaning in appreciation, up to her clit, his tongue teasing at her before flattening against her, moving down, and repeating the process.

Her hands, desperate to show him the same appreciation he was showering her with, reached out as far as they could to rub just her fingertips, less artfully, but no less effectively, against the bulge straining against his boxers. His groans only added to the sensation as he tasted her, the rumbling of it tangible as he licked and took her into his mouth. The sound mingled in the air with her own moans, and soon, she stopped being able to tell who was making which sounds.

His tongue darted between her folds and she rocked her hips into his mouth. He rocked just far enough back that she could no longer touch him, and as such, her hands held onto him in other ways, one hand wandering across his shoulders while the other tugged at his hair.

He added his fingers to the business after a short while, taking only a moment away from her to watch her face as he slipped his fingers along her entrance, coating them in her before he, with trained dexterity, slid them inside her and began the search for the place on her inner walls he knew set her closest to the edge.

He got a satisfied look on his face when her moans grew louder, when she pleaded with him and thanked him for the new sensation, and it was a grin that she saw last before his face descended, again, to mouth at her clit with new fervor.

It was only a matter of time before she fell back against the bed, pillows falling from under her rear as she went stiff, then limp, under the force of her orgasm.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.

***

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Anna had been somewhat surprised that they made it to midnight, both of them thoroughly spent with the amount of time and energy they’d put into their private celebration. She wasn’t counting down with the people on the television though, she couldn’t even see them as she knelt before the couch, feeling Kristoff’s tensed legs at either side of her. She couldn’t count anyway, she had her mouth full.

She’d wanted to manage to get him to come right at midnight, thinking about how funny and gratifying it would be to ensure that her fiancé, the man she loved most in the world, started the new year out right. She supposed though, as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue running up and down his length as she breathed through her nose, that he wouldn’t mind if it was just a minute or so late.

“Anna,” he groaned, his hand on the back of her head, not pushing but encouraging her to maintain her speed, “Baby I think I’m going to…”

She hummed, keeping up her speed, flattening her tongue against him and doing her damnedest to give him the same pleasure he’d given her earlier in the day. They’d done plenty in the hours between, but this was the first time for the day, and now for the new year that she’d pleasured him with her mouth.

She hoped that the sounds she was making were encouraging as his hips rocked almost imperceptibly, his hand that rested on her shoulder tightening as the one in her hair pressed a little more than it had been.

When he came for her, she could feel the shuddering of his muscles, particularly his thighs which she was using for support, even under the fabric of his clothes. They’d only recently finally donned clothes again for the first time since dinner, and she had decidedly not let it stop her, particularly when it was easy enough to shift the fabric down enough to suit her needs.

“Anna,” he repeated, panting as she too came up for air, swallowing him.

She could feel herself flush, and saw the blush mirrored on his cheeks. He was frazzled, and when she leaned up, using his thighs for support, to get a better look at his expression, she was surprised by his dipping down to kiss her lips.

“Happy New Year Anna,” he whispered, hands already moving on her, pulling her closer as he showed her his appreciation.

She couldn’t help but laugh, accepting her New Year’s kiss as he sat before her with his pants still askew. If it was an omen for the year, she was glad for it. She’d rather the year be an amusing one than the way the previous one had been.

“Happy 2021 Kristoff,” she replied, kissing him again and letting herself enjoy the sensation of his touch before reaching down to tug on his waistband, helping him readjust before turning to shut the television off and drag him off to bed.

They’d had a long, but very enjoyable day. The perfect way, she thought, to usher in the New Year.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #this is just smut guys idk what to tell you #it's been a year

24 notes · View notes