#so the succession was already messy before the English got involved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lampmeeting · 3 years

Note

F L O Y any pairings you want!!!! I’m so happy you quit!!!??

ME TOO i had such a nice day hahaha :') thank you!

any pairings i want huh?? oh boy let's put this under a cut hehe

(abigaar, magnate, chickles and nategaar)

"F" for fake dating - ABIGAAR :3c

tyr and skwisgaar keep in touch, and aww he's such a sweet dad figure. always wanting to know about skwisgaar's upcoming "concerts" and prying cutely for information about anyone skwisgaar's involved in ("saws you on reds carpets with a pretty blondes girl. you dates her? brings her to swedens, i cooks dinner!") it's nice, but skwisgaar for some reason doesn't have the heart to tell tyr that he doesn't exactly DO dating, so he puts him off and puts him off.

this gets more pressing after doomstar. skwisgaar starts feeling the guilt for avoiding visiting the man who's been trying to make a real fatherly effort for the last couple years. but he doesn't have anyone in mind to bring "home" to tyr's house. groupies aren't exactly an appropriate choice, he decides. but he tells tyr he'll come to visit with his girlfriend.

enter abigail. in charles' absence, she stepped in to manage the band ("just for the time being. it's not permanent." but she's not exactly actively helping them look for another candidate. as much as she wants nothing more to do with dethklok after the whole kidnapping thing, she can't seem to shake the feeling that she's meant to be there with them right now, that her continued presence in their lives is important somehow)

she notices skwisgaar seems distracted, off his game, and after a weirdly ungood practice session, she takes him aside to ask if he's all right. skwisgaar's never been great at being aloof around her, she cuts through his bullshit so fast, so he just admits it - tyr wants to meet his nonexistent girlfriend, and he doesn't know what to do. "needs to finds someone whats ams, y'know, classy. preskentsable. a nice girls."

abigail's listening to him intently. she's dressed in a classy blouse and pencil skirt, the jewel of her necklace resting below the dip in her collar. she looks very...presentable, doesn't she? skwisgaar swallows. and abigail is very nice...

"someones...smarts. goods to talks to, likes how we ams talkings rights now, evens."

abigail tilts her head at him curiously.

"maybes, uhhms...someones whats has beautifuls brown hairs? and ams nameds...aaabigaaaails...?"

she snorts a laugh into her hand. well, she has been desperately needing a vacation, and she knows skwisgaar won't try anything untoward... what could go wrong?

(this can also blend into Bed Sharing when they arrive in sweden and realize that tyr has put "the lovebirds" up in his guest bedroom...with only one bed)

"L" for Love at First Sight - MAGNATE

pre-preklok. magnus is (or, err, was) a moderately well-known local musician in phoenix. at 34 years old, though, he's kinda worn out his welcome. he never made it big, he's bounced between a dozen bands over the last 15 years, and now there are cooler, younger musicians coming up in the scene and man magnus just feels so old and bitter. maybe he should just give up music. what has it ever done for him except lead him to heartbreak after heartbreak (professional and personal)?

he goes out one night by himself. there's this new death metal band he's been hearing rumblings about. apparently the lead vocalist is like ten years younger than him and is definitely gonna be Somebody someday, and magnus is in a mood to drink and feel real fucking sorry for himself.

the opening band sucks, but then Abyssal Carcass takes the stage and the vocalist is broad-shouldered with long, silky black hair pooling over his shoulders and obscuring his face. he holds the mic in a massive fist, and when the first song starts and he opens his mouth to roar, magnus' heart nearly forgets how to beat. he's enchanted. that voice is so unlike anything he's ever heard before...he wants it. he wants it for himself. he wants to write songs for that voice. he wants to hear that voice in his ear, saying his name.

he doesn't see the man's face until after the second song when the vocalist finally stands up to his full height and rakes his hair back with a lift of his beefy arm. chiseled features, strong jaw, green eyes. magnus doesn't know if this is love or lust, maybe it's both, maybe it's jealousy, maybe he's just a sad old man wanting what he can't have.

after the show, magnus is visibly drunk and hangs around to catch the band before they leave. the vocalist sees him, and oh shit, he recognizes him. "oh shit, you're magnus hammersmith, right? from witch visions?"

"and servitor. and alchemical castration. and..." magnus blanks. too drunk. "...others, i presume."

the vocalist laughs deep and warm in his chest, and fuck... yup. magnus has it bad already.

"hey, ditch your band tonight. let's get outta here, you and me." magnus slings an arm around the guy's huge shoulders. "tell me your name again, bud?"

"oh, uh, nathan."

"nathan! nathan. lemme buy you a beer, nathan. i got a little business proposition for you."

"O" is for Opposites Attract - CHICKLES

preklok! charles gets a call from a near-hysterical toki in the middle of the night that pickles has been in an accident. clipped by a car while trying to jaywalk downtown, and now he's in the hospital having emergency surgery on a fractured leg. this is about a year after charles starts working for them, maybe just a few months after magnus' departure and toki's hiring, so everything's felt really stressful and up in the air, and NOW THIS.

charles of course gets dressed and races to the hospital to make sure pickles is being taken care of properly (no other reason, he's simply concerned for his client). pickles gets out of surgery, he's busted up real bad but he'll heal just fine the doctors say as long as he rests properly and keeps off his feet. easier said than done when it comes to pickles, and just a few days later charles swings by the apartment to see, to his horror, that pickles has drugged himself up and is trying to "walk it off" and still practice drums with the full kit. the others, it seems, are perfectly fine with pickles' attempts to do this.

in the interest of the band's future, pickles' leg needs to heal properly. he needs rest, relaxation, healthy meals. so charles does the only thing he can think of that will keep pickles safe from himself: he invites pickles to stay with him until he recovers.

of course pickles makes a terribly messy roommate and complains every step of the way, and charles is strict almost beyond reason. they end up getting into a huge argument about it, and charles finally breaks down and admits that no he's not doing this to make pickles' life miserable or teach him a lesson about wandering drunk through the streets, it's because he CARES about him damnit!

charles freezes, certain he's overstepped every boundary he's ever set for himself professionally and personally, and then pickles just sniffles, smiles, and says, "you...really care about me, charlie?" ;~;

"Y" is for Years of Friendship First - NATEGAAR

i mean...this has to be nategaar, right?

they've been fast friends ever since skwisgaar auditioned for dethklok, when nathan and magnus and murderface all looked at each other and went "YUP" simultaneously. the two of them just vibed. maybe it was nathan's penchant for short, easily-digestible words and phrases, and skwisgaar's minimal english at the time. magnus and murderface were both wordy motherfuckers, and skwisgaar would normally tune them out. but talking to nathan, or even not talking at all, always came easy. and musically they were so aligned nathan thought magnus was jealous.

bandmates came and went. years passed. so much happened, so much changed. the near-breakup of dethklok, the events of doomstar, the takedown of salacia. the dust settled. dethklok was no more, the spell of their success broken, their god powers depleted, sacrificed in the final battle.

nathan still makes music. he has to. it's not quite as angry and dire as the stuff he used to write, but he likes it. and skwisgaar likes it, which feels like the most important thing. for some reason, when the others all went their separate ways to live their lives apart from the band, nathan and skwisgaar couldn't leave each other. at first nathan told himself it a professional thing. they were just so accustomed to making music together, so of course they'd want to keep doing that. but they eventually realize they're spending all their time together even outside of working on the music. and nathan's slowly moving into skwisgaar's house. and sleeping over a lot. and helping skwisgaar make breakfast. and if they hug a lot it's just because they're such awesome friends. and if they kiss a little, well, guys in europe kiss all the time, right? who cares.

a couple years later, when nathan's mother jokes that he should visit and "bring that husband of yours with you", the two of them look at each other and realize... oh. ohhh.

#THANK YOU AHHHHH!!! 8)#THIS WAS FUN #my writing

24 notes · View notes

adultingautistic · 4 years

Text

help? rambling! sorry for that thing.

(saw in the ask-section: so written today as of the 20th of August in the year 2020)

Hey,

No idea how to approach this. Though first things first: English is not my native language and I have some trouble with languages (even my native) [mostly speaking and writing… and understanding (the hearing part but sometime also the meaning part) – okay I just can’t language – sorry] and this thingy here will be long, again – sorry Though I learned to understand written english just so I could read more fanfictions (‘cause the ones in my native language didn’t satisfy me anymore) - spend a whole summer just reading stuff in english and now I *need* to read everything in english and watch things in their native production language (synchro is weird af) and if possible with subtitles (books: if it’s the authors native language; otherwise both languages (german and english) would be translated and then it doesn’t really matter, most of the time anyway)

WARNING: Messy, chaotic and about 2500 words long. Sorry. and it isn’t proof read and some sentences could be… not a sentence

I think I might be autistic / have adhd ? not sure, going to someone (professional) is not really an option as that would take at least 6 to 12 month to even get maybe a appointment… and it involves a lot of social interaction that would stress all people – even those that don’t have to think about *every* interaction they have with eachother… like no planning or thinking about what you have to say or can’t say and what’s appropriate? Like that is a thing – always wondered how most people got through life when everything is so damn hard. It is apparently a thing that isn’t so quite normal… lol*

Okay, most of the time (that I remember) wondered how that worked for everyone else except me – how they get through life thinking all those things, or well… don’t thinking all those things like HOW?!? Why can you “people”? and I learned it’s important if you’re a girl or not; so yeah, girl here. Followed adhd / autism stuff for a few month / weeks and now again for the last days (it’s an on and off thing). so yeah, I can relate to so much on like everything. Long time I thought, nah, can’t have it: good in school (more so when I was younger but never actually bad), finished school good (though could have been better, if I had studied once (like for my oral exam, I opened the document that should help us learn one whole time, the morning of the exam so yeah, not good at that; brain just goes, heard it once, why should I read this information? Can’t really recall it but while reading I “know” it, so WhAt Is STuDyInG?)) anyway (at this point I would have deleted about everything but like 3 or 4 sentences because… rambling. Sorry, but I think it is important what’s actually going on in my brain; I know it’s hard to read lol) considering all those things I read here (and on other blogs and stuff), I would explain so much about what’s going on in my life (I made a document where I collect all that stuff but it’s redundant sometimes and really messy; try to make a short list with most important things).

Like as a kid, it took me longer than other kids for this social stuff (not like it got “everything”, just enough to communicate more or less lol) or I was so freaking focused on rules; one example is at the train station, there is this line to indicate where you should wait for the train and the other side is where you’re allowed to step once the train is in the station – I lost it, when that rule wasn’t followed (never really big, loud but I was really upset – you know, I learned that it isn’t “allowed” to act out in public). Another thing, I would always get the adults (or kids) around me to speak to others: I mean, I wanted ice cream? Couldn’t order it (still hard to this day – I’m 19 years old btw) or any other basic interaction stuff – I mean I broke every connection to my best friend (in 6th grade, so I was like 10 or 11) because he broke a rule while playing “hide and seek” like yeah, one rule one time while playing and I didn’t speak to him for like 6-7 years (met him at driving school again lol) and I still have his book because I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore (now it’s just awkward to give it back).

As I was younger I loved reading, couldn’t get me away from it – now not so much lol (books or reading in general is so hard sometimes… most of the time) – but that is more like: I lost myself in the books and was super focused on it – now I “don’t have time” as in I can’t really read a book if I don’t have theoretically the whole day and night – cause if I have to do stuff later “there is not enough time to read a book” because I could get lost in it and miss stuff and 5 hours is like 5 minutes, right? (that is a part of “time blindness”, am I mistaken? – never really related to that on a deeper level but the longer it think about it, the more stuff comes to my mind that could be part of it lol / like I always at least try to) get ready when I want to visit my grandparents, it’s like a ten minute walk so I need at least 45 minutes to prepare. Example: want to be there at 14:00 so I should go to the bathroom around 13:15 the latest, bathroom always takes long ‘cause I get distracted, so I then somehow get going around 13:50 – spoiler: I need more like at least 15 minutes not less then 10 to get to my grandparents by foot – and where is the time? I got out of the bathroom somewhere before 13:40 most of the time – I do the exact same things every time and sometimes I’m like: oh, it’s like 13:25/13:30, why would I think I need so much time to get ready? And then most often I need longer – and no, then I start to got even earlier (bathroom is like the first thing in the routine I do before I have to leave the house) and somehow it is now 13:45 and I just leave the bathroom – HOW??)

Okay, MSWord tells me, I have written like almost a 1100 words and haven’t even looked at my 11 page document – sorry (can I even write that many words in an ask at tumblr?)

Another thing I found is RSD – of my god (I usually don’t like to use it like that but omg), that explains so much – don’t want to write too much (missed quite a few “too”s I think lol hope you understand anyway) – I really react so intense to small, constructive criticism and I didn’t (don’t) understand why; and question everything; I remember everything I did wrong (so many “small” things but I’m such bad at human sometimes) and the feels and oh no, I didn’t even do something wrong, my coworker/sort-of-not-really-friend told me how I could have slightly improved what I did: I’m such a bad human, I can’t do anything right and they won’t want to have to do anything with me again – thank you brain, not helpful. One other thing was, like I asked for one weekend of and I wasn’t allowed to take it ‘cause they planned to or already shifted an event (couldn’t really focus on that) to that weekend and I didn’t know it and when they said “no”, in that situation I could have lost it, I was almost in tears (you do not cry in public lol) and thought, how could I even ask that and be soo egoistic (along the lines of that).

This next one is just the text copied from a post but that is like exactly what it is for me:

“I literally thought all the symptoms were the default way a brain works, so you’re telling me some of you can “choose” what to pay attention to? Like, if you know you absolutely have to listen to and remember something you just “can” even if you don’t like it?

And if you’re at a restaurant and three other tables are having conversations you don’t just automatically absorb everything they’re saying?

And if you know you have to do something within the next hour it won’t just remind you of a different subject entirely which reminds you of another different subject entirely and you don’t just take you three days to remember the original thing you were doing????”

so true lol.

Found another post with autism signs in adults (that my have been missed as kids), I took out everything I don’t really relate to (like 5 or 6 things lol):

- may constantly rehears conversations or interactions

- may feel as though you are always on stage

- may have a few close friends, not many acquaintances

- may struggle with other people breaking rules (RULES ARE ABSOLUT – HOW CAN YOU BREAK THEM?)

- may often fidget, chew, tap, or other repetitive behaviors

- may get more or less upset at something than is “appropriate”

- may struggle to adjust when plans change without warning

- may have routines that don’t seem to have a real purpose

- may struggle in situations that are unfamiliar

- may be a very picky eater with few preferred foods

- may struggle with noises, touching, or sensory input

- may struggle to process visual or auditory information

- may struggle to settle body down enough for restful sleep (though I now have a weighted blanket and that’s soo awesome, it really helps at least a bit (don’t wake up that often at night anymore))

- may struggle to keep track of a fast conversation

- may take jokes very literally, and not understand teasing

- may miss sarcasm or subtleties while others are speaking

I understand teasing, I can more or less successful tease and be sarcastic but I’m not sure if people are teasing me. I do not prefer to communicate via text or email. It is still very stressful for me - a telephone is also bad (tone and stuff, not understanding the words correct and not even seeing the other person and in person is also bad – so no to communication and/or interaction lol)

I could provide example for everything but I’m at around 1700 words and just no.

Didn’t really mention sensory stuff, another post I found: “basically, your day-to-day sensory input shouldn’t be causing you distress. sounds wild, i know, but it’s not neurotypical for the stimuli (be it sound, touch, visual, etc etc) you encounter on a day-to-day basis to make you unhappy. also, if busy shopping malls or crowded parties consistently cause you distress or agitation, that’s a neurodiverse thing. it sounds strange, but apparently but yeah, it’s normal for most people to expect to be comfortable in their day to day surroundings.”

Like on one level, I knew it couldn’t be quite “normal” to be always uneasy in “normal” day to day surroundings but like, I can’t understand how people can not find it hard to be in such environment (I heard some enjoy it even, like HOW?).

Random interjection ‘cause I wanted to say something to thing from the beginning: * “Allistics do not “prepare” in order to socialize. They do not have scripts. They do not write them, memorize them, or use them. They just magically know what to say. “ yeah, wow, didn’t realise that for a long time, and it is really magically. But somehow they can; I still ask my mom to help me write emails (more or less important ones) ‘cause it’s hard and she’s always like: “we do it so often, why do you still need help, just write” – not helpful and we didn’t do it actually ‘cause it is a complete different situation now lol every new email is a new thing… I need to think about what to say to the cashier every damn time I’m in the supermarket lol; if I don’t have to talk, someone else orders for me (they thinks I’m lazy or so, I don’t know but it’s so hard and you know what to do, so you can do it lol)

And that executive dysfunction thingy also explains a lot – I mean, I like languages, I’m just not good at that speaking/hearing the words thing – still, I learn Ancient Greek as a sort of hobby (I mean, I learn it for so long now, it’s too late to stop, that would be weird and it is really interesting, just really hard) and I needed like 7 hours to do the work (like, got out of bed, got breakfast, started the computer and did like 30 minutes of working, then did some stuff on the internet for like an hour and then ate my forgotten breakfast, then did some more browsing (I need to do the work cause I have to send it to my teacher this evening lol) some work for like almost an hour, some more phone, a bit of work – and so on. I did some work (but like so many people would have done more or needed less time lol) – anyway I know I really need to work on the language and I just… don’t. arg, that sucks so much, every week I think, I could start doing things on Saturday and then everyday a bit so I have like six days to do some work and every time it’s Thursday and I’m like, lol 10 hours for doing a weeks work. And it’s not like I could focus for that 10 hours – except when I can but sadly it’s almost never on the things I *need* to do. Anyway if my parents hadn’t provided dinner, I wouldn’t have eaten more than breakfast today – anyways sometime I want ice cream or other stuff and I just… can’t do it like I’m sitting here for an hour now, I’m so freaking bored and I just want ice cream but do I move? Nope, and doing something to not feel bored? Nope. I also mean to get my thingy for my wrist ‘cause I have some problems and typing hurts but lol, nope. An example as kid would be I needed hours to dry myself after a shower and just sit on the floor in my room doing more or less nothing or playing (I now a have strategy but yeah)

So, yeah, sorry; I think it’s quite possible that I’m autistic / have adhd, both or so – am I making things up and this is just my mind going a bit wild? (also, I’ve done some online “tests”; most of the time I get like ¾ of the maximal points, but at least always more than half the full points)

Sorry, it’s a messy, long thing but I need a bit of an advice or so – just, like “yeah, could be possible” or “nope.”

Thanks if you made it to the end! 20.08.2020

PS. could write so much more in my mind but nope. i think one can get my point. otherwise just ask me

PPS. actually talked with my grandmother about it, lol, she said, it would explain some things she wondered about lol (never thought i would talk in real life with someone about it but i really needed to talk about my thoughts and then i couldn’t shut up and i was so worried but she is kinda cool with it? though she doen’t really know anything about the topic except what i told her so yeah. i acually have no clue how to approach my mum (even if it isn’t autism/adhd or so, i think i have to talk about how i tick a bit lol) (sorry, just had to write it a least lol)

so sorry, needed a part two (cause brain is stupid)

Okay, part two (I’m so sorry) (now it is the 21st of August 2020)

There is so much more I can write about: sorry, again like 1300 words.

Like, special interests – I have no idea; as I kid my teacher had to regularly remind me that I have to leave the classroom for break – cause I was so into my book that I didn’t hear anyone leaving the room or the bell; now I can get really invested in some fanfictions (if I have like five days for myself and nothing to do, it is like 3 books without a break) and I’m at a point where I don’t find (good) new stuff and read the same fanfic again and again (I know exactly what will happen and still love it), sometimes I don’t read it for like a few weeks or month and then like 5 times back to back. I absolutely love Doctor Who (but I’m not excessively obsessive or so and don’t know that many facts just some), just can ramble for a few minutes (okay, everyone who would listen speaks German and my main input for Doctor Who is English, so hard to translate that and stuff). Well back to books: I love them; even though I can’t properly focus much these day, I love them, I need them: but why? I hate that when book covers changes or the side of the book like it’s: publisher, name of book, author and the next book is like name of the book, publisher, author and all is mixed up or the symbol of the publisher is slightly different: why? Can’t it be consistent? Why??.

Routines, rituals and stuff. Yeah, I have for example this one street (they repaired the street but there is a small crack now), I have to cross it on the side that is where the street crosses another and then the last 3 steps have to be on the other side and the fourth is stepping on the sidewalk (I really can’t do it any other way and I hate this one car that always blocks the crack a bit – it shouldn’t be standing there ‘cause it’s almost directly in the crossing lol) when I still was going to school, my way home was very specific and one time there was a building/construction site (just some repairs or work on the pipe lines in the ground) and the first time I saw this I was stressed after a long day of school and almost lost it right there and then, because I couldn’t walk my normal way (and yes, at home I cried at bit); for the next few weeks my way back home was hell. I have some specific routines for the bathroom and showering (though most people have that, right?). I have to pack my things and then my stuff like keys and such in the same way every time. When I need a walk I have like two (or three) routes I can take and I have to do them and almost can’t change them after I started (I can though it really throws me off and I don’t feel really well after that). One time – cause Covid-19 and stuff – you need to use a shopping cart where I live in order to enter the supermarket (so you keep more distance) – so, I went to the market by foot and had everything planned, shortly before I am at the store I realise I don’t have a “chip” (thingy you need to use the shopping cart; don’t know if you know what I mean) and I lost it – my plans and routine how I go shopping to that market (if by foot) was ruined – went back home and cried and raged like for an hour (went later again, cause I really needed stuff and I couldn’t leave that thing open, that also feels… not good – had to finish the walking “round”: to the store, store, back home)

One thing I mentioned before: sensory stuff; yeah, not a fan of “loud” noises (it isn’t always the loudness but more the number of noises). Water in my face (nope, hate it, never under the shower and like a sponge or so is horror (like everywhere on my body), just clean water is okay (but please, I can’t have had soap like right before on my hands)), lights is a day to day thing (though if I’m tired / close to what I think is sensory overload, either the room I’m in gets like darker or lights up so much it’s not tolerable anymore (then I know, I really, really have to leave the room and not see or hear anybody anything anymore)), and food, yeah (everything has its place on my plate and please don’t touch), I’m a really “picky” eater and I absolutely despise like cooked or baked fruits (some vegetables too) (they feel soo weird in my mouth… and taste bad… but the texture alone is… really, really bad) (if I wait a bit more, I could think of more but you get the gist I think)

One thing that throws me off: Since I’m 14 years old, I do some stuff with youth groups like mostly work in the church as a volunteer (like in the (school)holidays going a vacation with a group and such things) – I needed like three years (I was and still am seen as shy, mostly) to really “lead” a group (I really am good at imitating the others that can lead a group, I think) and now after I finished school and am doing a “Freiwilliges Soziales Jahr (FSJ)” (voluntary social year) (basically I “work” for a year in a social job (sorry, no idea how to explain it in English) and get not much money (that’s the volunteering-part, but ‘cause I work full-time (38.5 hours a week on paper), I get a bit of money)) – and now I applied for studying for working in a social job – can’t really explain it but important is that I would/will have to work with people and stuff, like my job is to create/plan activities for people (like for example, a meeting every week for old people, free-time activities for teenagers or so). On one level I somehow like that working with people (as long as I know what I do, I had time to plan and everything happens more or less as I imagined/planned), on another level I absolutely… well not hate it… but it is really taxing for me and sometimes I really question myself but then other people say, do it, you’re good at it – and I’m like: yeah? I sometimes feel terrible and have no idea what’s going but okay, good that you don’t see that?! Am I not totally awkward and what? Still, have no clue what I would do instead of that lol (sorry, explained that whole thing real bad; just ask, if something is unclear)

So, two options: either I fake everything I wrote before that last thing and how would that work? Or I’m really good at faking that last thing and how? I have no idea and yeah, I had to write that – can both work? Like, it’s not like that I’m always (really) comfortable doing that social stuff but on the other hand, a bit adrenaline and anxiety makes the life more fun or something like that (and it’s not like, yeay, one time a certain situation managed and the next time I can navigate that somewhat same situation, nope, it’s like nothing ever happened before and that’s… annoying?)

Sorry again to bother you. Thanks for reading

21.08.2020

PS. I will probably think of something new every few hours but that’s enough for now I think lol – sorry

PPS. And sorry for my bad English and explaining… language is hard (not like I could write it better in my native language lol)

_______________________________________________________________

First, I will never, ever, ever judge someone based on how good their English is, whether English is their first language or not. People communicate the best they can, and that’s all that counts, and it does not matter if it’s “perfect”.

So I can’t address every detail you brought up, because this was a LOT! I did read all of it though, and the general impression I get is that you’re right, you probably have ADHD, and possibly autism as well, though I am not a doctor and I can’t diagnose you.

You asked a few times if you could be “faking” it, and the answer to that I can say for certain: No, you are not faking. What you told me here are your life experiences. I just read a story of “How life is like” for you, and it was not fiction, this is your real perspective about how your brain sees the world. This is not fake. This is who you are, and I felt what you wrote was very open and honest, the exact opposite of fake.

Sorry, it’s a messy, long thing but I need a bit of an advice or so – just, like “yeah, could be possible” or “nope.”

Based on your experiences that you shared, I’d say it’s more than likely you have ADHD. You talk often about trying to complete a task and losing your focus before it’s finished:

Anyway if my parents hadn’t provided dinner, I wouldn’t have eaten more than breakfast today – anyways sometime I want ice cream or other stuff and I just… can’t do it like I’m sitting here for an hour now, I’m so freaking bored and I just want ice cream but do I move? Nope, and doing something to not feel bored? Nope. I also mean to get my thingy for my wrist ‘cause I have some problems and typing hurts but lol, nope. An example as kid would be I needed hours to dry myself after a shower and just sit on the floor in my room doing more or less nothing or playing (I now a have strategy but yeah)

This is all very suggestive of ADHD. You also had some symptoms that could be autism, but it seems like the ADHD is more prominent for you and is affecting you more (keep in mind, I’m only a stranger on the internet, I could be totally wrong).

I’m really happy that you were able to share these thoughts with your grandmother, and that she was open to listening to you about them, even if she didn’t have all the facts.

I know you said it would be a long wait, and very difficult, to get an appointment with a professional. But I do really think you should be tested for ADHD. Maybe your grandmother can help you talk to your mum about it, or maybe your grandmother can make all those phone calls for you (because believe me, I know how difficult it is to make phone calls, they are just as hard for me). Even if you have to wait a year, it would be worth it to know- and also, because in the case of ADHD, there is medication which can help you. So it would be really worth it for you to get that, even if you have to wait a long time.

You’re obviously a very detail-oriented, thoughtful person, and I know that you’ve studied this subject inside and out. You’re not faking, you’re not making it up. These are your experiences, and they are the truth, and you deserve to be tested if you want to be.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #ADHD #submission

15 notes · View notes

ladyoutlier · 5 years

Text

Here Today Gone Tomorrow

In which Aziraphale and Crowley are tasked with making a human.

[Read on AO3] | [Chapter 1]

Chapter 2: An Angel and Demon’s Offspring

Rain poured heavily on the shingled roof of the quaint little cottage Aziraphale and Crowley had miracled for themselves. It was a huge stand-out from the rest of Eden with its English aesthetic greatly contrasting the surrounding jungle. However, this was hardly a concern to either of them. Just because they had to take on the role of Adam and Eve didn’t mean that they had to live in the dirt like them. Both the angel and the demon had spent quite enough time doing that in the millennia before proper civilization occurred. And plus, the cottage reminded them of a time they were no longer in.

Crowley was sprawled out on the nice king-sized bed he had summoned for himself when Aziraphale entered the room carrying tea for the two of them. Crowley shuffled to one side of the bed, and Aziraphale sat down on the now vacant side. The angel handed him a cup.

“Quite the day. And here I thought nothing could outdo the past few ones in regards to exertion.“ A rather prominent frown developed onto Aziraphale’s face.

“Definitely makes the top ten of worst days.”

Rain plattered at the window. The two sipped their tea. Sitting inside they could almost pretend everything was normal. That they were in London, and the city was slowly falling asleep for the evening. That outside there were streets and people and Crowley’s Bentley was parked on the curb and that it was just another normal night for the both of them. Ah, but neither of them were good at fooling themselves, especially when the other was involved.

“Do you really think the Almighty has tasked us with bringing humanity into the world?” Aziraphale asked. “I don’t know about you, but I have absolutely no idea how to accomplish that.”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Crowley replied. “Try to miracle some clay into a person. If God hasn’t granted us the power to do that, well She’s got no one to blame except Herself for the lack of humans on the planet this go about.”

“Adam and Eve went about it a rather different way.”

“They were also human by default and thus had the proper genetics to accomplish that. Don’t think angel plus demon equals human.” Crowley tried desperately to avoid looking Aziraphale in the eyes which he was quite successful at because the angel too was avoiding his.

“Oh, um, I wasn’t suggesting that. I was merely speculating out loud.” Aziraphale took a long sip of tea which was strangely a lot more alcoholic now.

“Course. Just a conversation of what ifs. Nothing more.”

Another silence. The rain picked up. Not by a lot. Just enough to be noticable. A small rumble of thunder echoed from somewhere far away. The golden light inside the cottage was becoming very cosy. Aziraphale set his drink down on the nightstand and laid down as Crowley was.

“If we ever see the world the way it was again, I wouldn’t mind residing in a cottage like this. It would be a nice change of scenery from the bookshop,” the angel said rather dreamily.

His alcohol/tea hybrid was taking effect much more quickly than anticipated as if it had divine influences to do so. God smiled to Herself as She sipped from Her wine glass.

“Mmhmm,” Crowley muttered, eyes rolling to see Aziraphale. Without his sunglasses on, it was quite difficult to not notice his added attention. “Yes, would be rather charming. I could see you enjoying the country life. Where would you want to go?”

“Not just me. I think I’d like you to be there too, Crowley.”

That was a brave, blunt remark that was most certainly pushed out of Aziraphale by his drink. That’s not to mean that he hadn’t meant it. He did. It would’ve just taken him a few more thousand years to say it on his own. Still, it was more than a surprise to Crowley. Now, who was going too fast?

“Oh, well, um, yes.” The demon’s eyes widened, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Where would we go then?”

“South Downs is quite lovely. Calming and natural like this. Does that mean you’d actually go with me? I know you’re fond of the city life.”

“Angel, if we ever get things back the way they were, I’d go to the moon and back with you. Might even do that anyway.”

Aziraphale’s blue eyes stared into Crowley’s golden ones. The soft, little smile on his lips was warm enough to melt a glacier. The demon was very glad he was already lying down. Strangely, this day didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“I’ll hold you to that. The moon and back,” Aziraphale replied. “Would be exciting to get off planet.”

“Personally,” Crowley said, flipping onto his back. “I think you’re plenty of excitement on your own.”

If the raindrops became a bit fatter after that, it was only because God was crying. It was a happy sort of cry one only has when their ship finally begins to properly sail. No more sandy reefs for the ship to get beached on. No more last minute trips to the dock. Just full on open sea sailing. Aziraphale and Crowley were finally on their way to be properly shipped, and God was glad.

The next morning, Aziraphale and Crowley found a fruit bowl filled to the brim with apples on their countertop. It was not something that either of them had put there, and neither of them were gullible enough to believe the other had. Crowley simply rolled his eyes, picked up the whole bowl, and tossed it out the kitchen window.

“Is he even trying?” Crowley asked, taking a seat at the small dining table at which Aziraphale was eating a pastry.

“Maybe his heart’s not in it. It’s hardly a passion project to do a job that has already been done.”

“Yeah, but I mean, live a little. Throw the apples into a pie or something. Try the poor old woman tactic from Snow White. Hastur really has no creativity.”

Aziraphale finished the last bite of his breakfast and wiped his face. “Yes, well, creativity is one of your best attributes, my dear.”

“‘S really not, but it is a useful one.” He leaned back in his chair. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Thought we’d try your turn clay into people plan as I don’t have any better ideas.”

“It’s not going to work.”

“Likely. But at least it’ll be fun. Similar to making a snowman.”

“Alright then. Let’s go have some fun.”

It was another beautiful day in Eden. A bit on the windy side, but other that that, absolutely lovely. A hundred thousand leaves rustled away in the trees above, and a million different species of birds sang serenades to each other. If one didn’t know just how barren and white Heaven was, one could easily be tricked into believing that Eden was it. Aziraphale and Crowley stood in front of a small riverbank.

“Angel,” Crowley said, freeing himself from the mud which was acting more like quicksand than wet dirt. “Don’t really feel like getting my hands dirty, and I think neither of us are ones for ruining good clothes. Can’t we just draw a face in the mud and be done with it?”

“Nonsense! This was your suggestion after all.”

“Was mostly a joke.”

“And we hardly need to use our hands.” The angel miracled a shovel into being. “Even if this is a rather fruitless endeavor, I still want to give it my all to, at the very least, let the Almighty know that we’re trying.”

Aziraphale began to dig up mud, stacking it into a rather messy column. It looked more like a monster from a cheesy 1950s American horror flick than a human, but the angel continued to work at it anyway. Seeing that Aziraphale was dedicated to this, Crowley grumbled to himself. There were a million other things he’d rather be doing, but all of them involved Aziraphale being there as well. He cocked his head to the side. Guess this is what they were doing today. He miracled himself a set of sculptor’s tools.

Their clothes had gotten more than a bit dirty by the time they were done. Mud and river water practically soaked them. Although both Aziraphale and Crowley had no need to sweat, they both felt like they had done quite a lot of it. But they had gotten their human sculpture done, and the time was hardly past noon.

The body of the sculpture was a bit pudgy but also rather lean, and looked neither obviously male or female as if the person could fall either way if they so chose. They stood shorter than both Aziraphale and Crowley, looking as though they were just coming of age. Their face had a rather contrasting mixture of features. A sharp jawline and cheekbones, but pouty lips and an upturned nose. Their hair was a fury of curls with wisps of straight locks thrown in. And their eyes remained a mystery, shut to the whole world.

If perhaps, the angel and demon had modeled their parts of the sculpture off one another, they certainly were silent about it. Still the resemblance to the both of them was extremely clear. The sculpture was a perfect blend of the two of them, and God definitely noticed. Mostly because She had begun to sober up.

“So what? On the count of three try to bring it to life? That really what we’re going to do?” Crowley asked.

“Well, yes,” Aziraphale admitted rather sheepishly. “Does sound silly when you put it like that.”

“Because it is silly. Would get us both thrown in the looney bin if society still existed.”

“Even if this doesn’t work—”

“Which it very likely isn’t.”

“—I’m still happy to have made this with you. Turned out rather well I think.”

“Just glad it turned out better than Warlock’s Year 1 arts and crafts projects.”

“I hope we would do better than a six-year-old.”

“Oh, your hopes are too high for us,” Crowley replied with a laugh.

“Are they? This may not be on Michelangelo’s level of quality, but he would hardly scoff at what we’ve done.”

“Eh, that’s true enough.”

“On three then?”

“Yeah. One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

The angel and the demon both thought incredibly hard about bringing the mud person in front of them to life. They threw their hands forward, commanding the sculpture to move, walk, breathe, anything. And with the power of Heaven and Hell combined, absolutely nothing happened which was entirely unsurprising.

“Can’t say we didn’t try. Up for lunch, angel?” Crowley asked, letting his arms fall back down to his sides.

“I can’t say I thought it would be this easy. Why don’t you head back, Crowley. Give me a moment and then we’ll have lunch.”

The demon shot him a quizzical look. He took a few steps backwards. A small smile flickered nervously on the corner of his mouth before quickly disappearing. “Alright, yeah. I’ll be back at the cottage.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Course. Take your time.”

Crowley strode off into the wilderness. Aziraphale watched him go until the plant life completely obscured him. The angel released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and approached the river. A fallen tree laid across it as a bridge. He merely crossed half of it and sat down, his feet dangling inches above the rushing water.

“Um, Lord,” he began. “I know my attempts to talk to You didn’t go too well last time. Found myself talking to Your secretary rather than Yourself. But given the circumstances, I thought I’d try again. I hope You don’t mind the less than professional air to the whole situation.”

Aziraphale waited for a reply, but got none. Still, God was listening.

“Ah, yes, well. Perhaps this whole sculpture idea was rather foolish. Not at all what You wanted from us. And I really do not want to inconvenience You, but I’m at a rather large loss for how to do what You wish.”

Again he left room for a reply from God without the need to.

“As much as I would love to be able to create a person with Crowley, I just don’t believe it is possible with the restraints You have given us. Only You can create a new being after all. Angels and demons, we can only influence them. Crowley and I would just quite like to be able to get back to our lives...”

Together. It was a word Aziraphale didn’t say out loud, but God heard it anyways. The entire riverbank became a bit warmer. The sun shone a bit brighter. The flora spruced up. All small changes one could easily miss. If one was not an angel, that is.

“I—I see. Yes, um, good talk. Thank you.” He stood up rather clumsily from the log. It was simply a miracle that he didn’t fall into the river (actually it was two, but God didn’t feel the need to let him know that).

As Aziraphale walked away to meet up with Crowley, God lifted the sculpture from the river bank and brought it into the ethereal plane with Her. She smiled at Her creations’ creation. Mimicry was the biggest form of flattery. She loved the human the angel and demon had made. Sure, it wasn’t alive, but care and love most certainly lived within it. God tucked its design away with everything else that had ever existed for safe keeping. Maybe there would come a day when She would need it.

Some of Crowley’s modern music led Aziraphale back to the cottage. The demon could not go a day without his tunes, and now with all of Eden to themselves, he could blast them at max volume without the irritation of bothered neighbors and passersby. Their annoyance wasn’t a problem to him. Rather it was their need to bug him about the volume that was. More tasking than the evil was worth.

As Aziraphale approached, “I Want To Break Free” by Queen played:

But life still goes on

I can't get used to living without, living without

Living without you by my side

I don't want to live alone, hey

God knows, got to make it on my own

Aziraphale found himself to the kitchen where Crowley was currently pouring two glasses of red wine. On the island sat a plate of sandwiches made of grilled steak, sauteed onions, and ciabatta bread.

“I don’t know about you,” Crowley said, handing the angel a glass. “But making a mud man really worked up an appetite.”

“Oh, Crowley, you made this?”

“No, I figured out how to make humans when you were gone, and one of them so happened to be a chef. Course I made this. Well, miracled it, but same thing.”

“That’s a real generous thing to do.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go all mushy on me. We planned on lunch, and it wasn’t just going to show up itself. Kept me busy while waiting for you to catch up.” The demon picked up a sandwich a munched into it.

“Still, I very much appreciate it.”

Before Aziraphale could take a sandwich for himself, the front door swung open, and the familiar face of Archangel Gabriel walked in.

“I came down here to put a stop to the awful noise, but, uh, I see there’s a much bigger issue to address here,” he said, marching into the kitchen.

“Sandwich, Gabriel?” Crowley sneered, taking another bite of his.

“As if I’d take anything a demon offered me, much less gross matter.” The flame from his sword glowed rather brightly from his waist. “There’s an issue with the use of miracles down here. I mean, a whole house? Really? Where’s the justification for that?”

“It did rain last night,” Aziraphale replied.

“So? Don’t see me abusing miracles to get out of it. It’s only water. You’re supposed to be Adam and Eve. At what point did they live in a cottage that I missed?”

“You did say to make improvements, so we did.” Crowley flashed the Archangel a rather wide grin.

“Yes, improvements for the greater good. Not—” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. “I don’t know why I’m arguing with a demon on this. Obviously this kind of behavior is expected from you.” He looked back to the angel. “I just thought there was something left of you, Aziraphale. Sure, you screwed up the End of the World, but there had to be a reason you haven’t Fallen yet. I’m starting to think that it’s just an oversight.”

“Oh, I’d back off real quick, Archangel.” Crowley swept around the island. “You’ll find I don’t put up with your pretentious bullshit the way Aziraphale does.”

“I think you’re forgetting who has a sword here and who doesn’t.” Gabriel chuckled, seemingly unfazed by Crowley’s threat.

“Oh, you can’t hurt us. In fact, I don’t think you have any authority to tell us to do anything. Your job is to guard the Eastern Gate. Not interfere with Adam and Eve.”

“Uh, yeah. Actually, this whole Earth thing might have to go on hold for now. Busy working real hard to get Micheal out of Hell.”

“Wait, Micheal’s in Hell?” Aziraphale asked.

“Thought your demon’s friend would’ve informed you on that after he so smugly informed me about it on the Wall. We are in negotiations right now. We both have people we’d like to see returned to their rightful side.”

“Like Beelzebub,” Crowley replied, leaning back against the island. His eyes remained rather narrowed behind his sunglasses.

“Our main negotiating point. Should really be an easy swap. Of course, when dealing with Hell everything gets complicated.”

“Oh yeah, sure everything’s so smooth Upstairs.”

“As if you have any clue, demon. You haven’t been up there in over 6000 years. Not sure I’d trust your memory.” Gabriel gave a squinty eyed smile. “You know what, both of you run amuck down here. Ruin it if you want. You’re the ones stuck down here. I’ve got a meeting I need to attend to in Heaven, so go wild. Just don’t blame me when the Almighty strikes you both down for your dismal performances.”

Without waiting for a reply, Gabriel left the cottage. A bright white light glowed from the front door and soon after faded, signalling that the Archangel was gone.

“Well, that was something,” Crowley said. “Sandwiches have probably gone cold, but there’s still plenty to have, angel.”

“Ah, yes, lunch,” Aziraphale replied, remembering exactly what they had been doing.

“Yeah, lunch. Couldn’t the bastard have at least waited half an hour before bothering us?”

“I think it was your music that drew him here.” The angel took a sandwich and bit into it. The center was still miraculously warm. God pretended not to notice that.

“Mental note: all it takes to piss off the Archangel Gabriel is loud music. Oh that’s a weakness he really shouldn’t have shown me.”

“I’m sure you’ll make good use of it, dear.”

“You bet I will.”

Aziraphale scoffed and smiled through a mouthful of lunch. It was a goofy look that made Crowley smile back. He was happy the angel was enjoying the food he had made even if it was little more than a snap of his fingers. This whole snippet of a domestic life was quite nice, and made the demon think back on last night’s conversation. Yes, if the world was ever restored, he’d like to live like this with Aziraphale. But in the meantime, this would do nicely.

[Chapter 3]

#Good Omens #Gomens #Ineffable Husbands #Good Omens fic #my writing

78 notes · View notes

juliankinney · 5 years

Text

━━ ( alex fitzalan + cis male + twenty-two ) oi , have you seen julian kinney around ? he lives in flat 14 in bedroom 4 ? i was meant to meet them this morning at bean me up before our lecture but he didn’t show . no ? well , shit . if you do see them , can you tell them i’m looking for them ? they’re a 4th year computer science student from madrid , spain & you’ll know it’s them because they might just remind you of a stack of unread books , the sound of keyboard typing at three in the morning , coffee creamer in every flavor , & unprescribed pills if that helps at all . just be careful , he can be a little distant , critical , & compulsive sometimes . —- oh don’t look like that , they’re usually ingenious , reliable , & confident most of the time . ✏ y! , 22 , she/her , cst

alright whats up guys, as jd once said, greetings and salutations!! im y and this here is julian, who i’ve known for two hours but adore already anyway. i usually play dumbass boys and he’s no exception, but i like to think he might just be a little less dumb than the rest of them. so lets jump into it!!! ♡

for starters here is his messy pinterest board that i made.. like i said... it is a mess, and still a work in progress but y’all can have it anyway!! (fun fact: was gonna make him texan but pepper called him country boy and i was triggered!!!!!!!!!!)

backstory:

julian was the conception of two teenagers in love during the 90′s in spain; a local and a tourist. the pair were just seventeen when they became parents but it was a whole ordeal at the time because his father’s side of the family did not want anything to do with this impregnated nobody. it wasn’t his grandfather’s vision!!! his son was supposed to go into adulthood unscathed by his mistakes!!! as you can guess julian’s mom side of the family were your blue-collared society while his father’s side was more white-collared. at the time his mother was a student and helped her own mom with the family tailor shop while her father worked as a cook in a restaurant. on the other end of the spectrum, the kinney’s were in the film industry and of old money. needless to say, the two families had little in common.

the kinney’s tried to pay this girl off but her family was 100% not having it and after many arguments and empty threats they came to an agreement. said agreement was that julian would have his rightful surname and would stay in spain and the family would receive a weekly stipend for his expenses. in return no one would say a thing to the press— which, honestly was only ever a threat because the kinney’s wanted to pretend like nothing had happened.

and so julian grew up in madrid with a single mother and the help of his grandparents. as far as he knew his father had died shortly after he had been born and had been madly in love with his mother (that part was true). the only reason he didn’t share a name with the rest of his family was because the pair had never married, which, would have been the truth regardless. everything was fine; he grew up working at the family shop, attended school, skipped school, maintained amazing grades while simultaneously spending 1/3rd of the time in detention, lost his virginity to marisol cordova in her lilac colored room, etc. he had the most basic upbringing a kid could have.

then his father died. his real father. and suddenly, on paper, he was well off. it wasn’t easy for his mother to tell him the truth when his grandfather stepped foot into the one story home like he had seventeen years ago with that sour look on his face, but she was forced to. she had no other choice. devastated as she was (and she was truly heartbroken), she told him the story of how one day during the summer of 96′ she met james kinney, and how the next year he came back. then, his grandfather informed him of his father’s will and how he’d have access to his inheritance once he turned eighteen.

it was... a lot to process, and as julian does when he feels overwhelmed, he got angry. he was very upset with his mother and even more so with this old man he was meeting for the first time who kept calling him shit like ‘his only grandson’ and ‘a kinney by blood’. it was infuriating for julian, and his mother further telling him about their weekly allowance among other expenses over the years did not help. at all.

that is how julian found out his father was a successful actor turned director, generally known for an action packed franchise released in the 2000′s. it was mind boggling— he’d turn on the tv only to see a picture of his now dead father on screen, news coverage of the deadly car accident that occurred during en route to manchester on every channel. it just didn’t make any sense and was very hard to feel sad for. besides, his mother had enough sadness for the both of them. at his funeral, the two had to stay in the back while the family tried to come up with a game plan of how things were going to move forward; james’ widow was not happy to see her husbands former lover and child at the scene.

anyways in spite the fact that julian wanted nothing to do with the kinney’s, his grandfather had other plans. a vision of his own for the only grandchild his son had brought into the world, and that started with schooling. julian graduated and had no plans for college until his grandfather threatened to contest the will if he chose to stray from the path, and they needed the money; so college it was. a college of his grandfather’s choice of course, and what better place than somewhere closed off enough to distance julian from the outer world but elite in its own right?

his grandfather’s plan basically is to make him successful, and being that julian has no interest in their world, he’s had to compromise and just live with the fact that julian is just going to be your regular everyday man. he’s only really doing all of this because he feels guilt over the years but not guilty enough to tell the world that there’s an extra kinney lying around (last names are so common right!?!??!) . however, he still wants him to be in the family. as in everyone in the direct family knows of him and he gets to be involved in all family affairs, etc, but julian just does not give a fuck about them fksdhjfs specially because of how they fucked over his mom and how james’ widow is so fucking bitter about the will.

ANYWAYS he’s been at the school for four years now, gets his schooling paid by his grandfather but still has a job because pride or whatever, and will hack into your shit!

personality/hc’s

i love him, he’s sweet but also not annoyingly sweet. as in yeah he’s nice and polite but has no problem squaring up due to his short temper. kind of blunt sometimes though, and either is dumb or acts dumb if he says something that might hurt someones feelings. like oh.. sorry you feel that way ksjfsdkln

super smart???? has amazing grades and constantly does his work; knows how to multitask and balance his life out (for the most part... at least until he burns himself out). an intellectual™ . not an eboy but i guess u could say a little bit of a gamer,, has tik tok downloaded on his phone, the dad friend i guess

is either in one end of the spectrum or the other when it comes to socializing. most of the time though he finds it exhausting,, talking is hard but once he does start talking it’s like shut up dude no one cares about javascript

has a small pill problem,, he’s got to be successful somehow right !! also drinks lots of coffee and is a fan of coffee creamer, does not like the strawberry shortcake creamer though because ew. only tea he will drink is matcha green tea, anything else can suck it.

has also developed some ~anxious~ feelings , why ? idk, light trauma i guess. his pill usage sure doesn’t help though! loser! ... tbh maybe his anxiousness has grown over the years because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do after school like he has money (that he tries not to use if i’m being honest, would rather use the money he gains from his job which i haven’t decided what should be. leave me alone), and will have a degree, but he’s still just questioning everything?? things have just been weird

sometime during middle school years (idk whats the equivalent of this in spain, shut up) he got into computers and... i’m not proud of this but his first hack was into this girls account that he liked and bro all he wanted to do was see some titties man thats it i promise. that crush did not work out, obvs.

anyways yes he continued down this computer path and made an app during high school!!! it wasn’t successful at all and he eventually deleted it but good for him coding and shit!!!

would hack into school systems to help out his buds and their grades. yeah they could have just copied off of him but... where is the fun in that lads

sometime he be just looking up ‘james kinney interviews’ on youtube just to see who this dude was dshjkg poor lad

can speak english and spanish ,, has that lisp thingy spaniards have i hate it but i guess whatever

kind of messy honestly, can someone clean his desk

connections

literally anything just hmu i can’t come up with these things tbh

#pulled this out of my ass i literally just made him on the spot im jkshdsg #theflats:intro

7 notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 6 years

Text

Secret's out.

Request by @shamelessbookaddict : Hi bub! Great to hear you're taking requests!! Can you do one with Haz where you two have been dating in secret (youre an actress who's done movies w Tom so to the world you and haz are just friends) but you are snapped wearing his hoodie and basically loads of fluff and blushing as you reveal your relationship?

~~~

"Do you think they do those barbecue pretzels at room service?" Harrison asks to his best friend beside him, his head leant back against the back of the couch.

"Ooh maybe, and some good old English beers," Tom grins in response.

"What do you think this place is?" You laugh, walking out of yours and Harrison's room as you tied your hair back into a messy bun, "They're not going to have those stupid pretzel things here. And you don't like the beer here Tom,"

Both of them groan and Tom turns to flick his eyes back to the rugby match only minutes away from starting on the screen in front of him.

Your boyfriend instead stands up and follows you through the hotel room as you walk across to the large window displaying a stunning view of the city surrounding you. His arms wrap around your waist as his head settles against your shoulder.

"You're going to miss kick off," You chuckle as he buries his face into the crook of his neck, nose brushing against marks he was very proud to have made in recent nights.

He hums in absent response, "They can wait,"

"But you can't, you've been waiting for this all week," You point out, your hands settling over his, "Look, I'll go out to the shop quickly and grab you and Tom enough snacks to last you and some proper beer from the shop and you two can watch the game, okay?"

Harrison looks up and cocks his head round to look you in the eyes, "Are you sure you want to? Shouldn't I go out?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine, we're just down the road from the shop," You shuffle in his arms to face him, hands settling on his chest, "Don't miss kick off, Osterfield,"

He grins at you and presses a longing kiss to your lips before hurrying back to Tom, jumping over the back of the couch to flop down beside his companion.

"Love you (Y/n)," Both of them yell in unison and you roll your eyes at how funny they would find it.

Currently, the three of you were residing in a hotel apartment in LA as you and Tom were out here for the filming of a new film and Harrison, as your boyfriend and Tom's best friend, had come along too - working on his own small projects whilst out here and even making a cameo in yours. It was public knowledge that the three of you were good friends but nobody other than personal relations knew anything about you and Harrison being far from friends. It was a decision you'd both made when you realised how much you really wanted this to work - and going public too soon could easily jeopardise that.

The issues with that came in times like this. When you couldn't walk around LA with his hand in yours or you couldn't be spotted together at a romantic restaurant. Or when you had noticeable purple marks across your neck and no way of covering it. Harrison, luckily, came prepared for colder weather - something you were only now thankful for as you reached for one of his hoodies. It was that pale grey one with the simple rose design on the front, something he'd recently been shown wearing in his Instagram photoshoot. Damn he looked attractive in those photos. You were just thankful to be covered enough.

"I'll be back in a bit boys," You call, grabbing your purse and phone from the side and slipping your vans on your feet underneath legging clad legs before leaving the hotel. You were sure they were too engrossed in the performance of England's finest rugby players to notice your exit.

~~~

"(Y/n)!" You hear the call of your name and tug your earphone from your ear, glancing around, "Oh my god its (Y/n)!"

Turning to follow the source of such excitement, you notice two people hurrying toward you with phones at the ready.

"Hello lovelies!" You beam, welcoming their engulfing hug and having to catch yourself from stumbling backward, "How are you?"

"We're good, I can't believe we've met you!" One of them grins, "We're such huge fans and we love your work, you're an incredible actress!"

"Aww thank you so much, I'm so pleased to meet you," You smile, watching as one of them prepares the phone for a photo.

You stand beside the other and pose for a photo, repeating your actions until both of them have photos with you.

"Well, the boys are starving so I'm going to have to leave you but it was lovely to see both of you," You wave your goodbyes and turn back to your previous direction.

It is only as you are walking away that you hear it - "Was that Harrison's jumper?!"

~~~

Luckily, the shop was relatively empty so you stocked up on all the unnecessary necessities and exited with brown paper bag in hand, earphones back in to wrap yourself back into your bubble.

The paparazzi wouldn't accept that though as you are soon met with a familiar flash in front of you, followed by one to the side.

It always made you feel nervous when they did this - mainly for their own willingness to go anywhere to get a good shot.

"Please be careful guys, mind the cars," You encourage as they hurry to catch up with you.

"(Y/n), how are you enjoying LA?"

"LA is amazing, I'm really pleased we're out here to film and I'm excited to be back to work with Tom. I can't wait for our fans to see this film," You nod politely, one hand fiddling with the toggle of Harrison's hoodie like it would spark his presence to be beside you.

"And you're here with Harrison too, what's that been like?"

"Harrison is incredible, it's always fun for all of us to be together and I'm really proud of him for the projects he's involved in, they look great," You nod, your heart skipping with a beat of pride at the mention of his success.

"And is it true that's his hoodie? Is this you finally confirming your relationship?"

But the hotel is already here, and you're quick to step back inside before answering. A feeling of sick builds in the pit of your stomach.

"Oh god," You mumble to yourself, hurrying to the elevator to take you up to the room as quickly as the wires could carry.

When you get back in, Tom and Haz still haven't moved - only by inches which is probably from their constant jumping up and down to celebrate or argue with the screen.

"Hey gorgeous," H calls as soon as he hears the door close, "How was your trip?"

"Oh god, babe I think they know," You groan and it is enough for him to know exactly what you mean. He bolts upright and turns to face you.

And that's how you stay. Mirroring each other in an unspoken flurry of thoughts.

Tom yells something random at the screen before getting up, "What's going on? Were there no pretzels?"

He could sense the tension between two people that he hadn't felt since the two of you had refused to admit your feelings for each other.

Before either of you can answer your bewildered friend, Harrison's phone buzzes and so does yours. Both of you pull out your phone to see you'd been tagged in a twitter thread - one that showed the stages of your relationship - ending with the so-called reveal with you wearing his jumper.

'He's the guy she was on holiday with!' with a papped photo of you with a mystery guy walking into a holiday villa.

'Oh my god that's definitely his jumper' with a papped photo of you today alongside one of you and the fan from earlier.

'Come on guys, Where's the confirmation?'

You glance up to your boyfriend and see he's staring right back at you.

"I guess we've got to tell them," He smirks and you can't help but feel at ease in response to his nonchalance.

"Are we finally getting the big reveal?" Tom exclaims, pulling out his phone, "The boys need to know about this,"

Haz walks round the couch and walks to meet you, outstretching his hand to yours, "Are you sure you're ready for this darling?"

"I-" You stop yourself. You and Harrison had been hiding this for months now and it had been tiring to say the least. From avoiding public dates to vacationing only when you knew it was completely secret. It was draining to not be publicly in love with the one who had your heart, "Yeah, I think I am,"

He breaks into that smile that won you over so long ago before pressing his lips against yours.

~~~

It is later that afternoon when you finally decide to go out and make this public. With Haz's hand in yours, the two of you stepped outside into the streets outside your hotel. A few paparazzi were already milling around at the news that you and Tom were here and you saw how they lit up as soon as you walked out, even more so when Harrison came behind you.

You smiled politely to them and continued down the street, part of you instinctively wanting to get away from them as soon as possible.

"Hey," Harrison stops in his tracks, turning you round and catching you in one of those kisses that only ever happened in the movies. It was longing and, with your hands on his shoulders, you fell into a blushing mess against his touch.

And, boy, did those cameras click.

~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland

#Harrison #Harrison osterfield #Harrison imagine #Harrison blurb #Harrison one shot #Harrison request #Harrison osterfield imagine #Harrison osterfield blurb #Harrison osterfield one shot #Harrison osterfield request #Harrison x reader #Harrison x you #Harrison x y/n #Harrison osterfield x you #Harrison osterfield x reader #Harrison osterfield x y/n

106 notes · View notes

100hearteyes · 6 years

Text

Alternate reality where women's football (soccer) is the more famous one. European football is at its prime, it's once again highly competitive. The reign of Cristiana Ronalda and Leonor Messi has ended.

Portuguese starlet Alexandra "Lexa" Silva is the next big thing. A brainy, skilled defensive midfielder, whose long passing is on a par with the best of the best, is fresh out of the FC Porto youth academy. At just 17 she's already made the starting lineup and was given the captain's armband in a game. She's third captain.

Cue Clarke Griffin, an 18-year old American offensive midfielder, whose signing Porto just beat their long-time rivals Benfica (who are the literal devil) for.

Clarke knows little of Portuguese and Portugal, so Lexa, being the leader (and gay) she is — and she has an English father —, takes it upon herself to show her around and help her fit in. They become really good friends over the course of the two seasons they spend together at FC Porto (please don't call it Oporto) and begin to develop feelings for each other, however both are too chicken shit to act on them.

By the end of the second season with no trophies to show for a new club president is elected and he decides to operate a complete overhaul of the team. Lexa is informed that they might need to sell her to make money because the club is broke.

A totally randomly picked Championship club, say, Wolverhampton, comes in with a tempting offer and the club want to take it, but they allow Lexa to have the final word. Lexa, who is by now vice-captain and hoping to become captain of the club she's always dreamed of captaining to glory next season, is really torn on whether to stay or go. However, on the evening of Lexa's final day to choose, Clarke has a talk with her and tells her that Wolves are also interested in her and looking to make a package deal with the two players. Clarke and Lexa could go to England, together, and dream and fulfill new dreams altogether. Side by side the adaptation won't be as hard. Clarke tells Lexa they can achieve anything they want. They almost kiss that evening, but are interrupted.

Lexa decides to say yes and head to Wolves and travels the very next day to England to sign her new contract. Once there, and already having signed, she confesses to them that the fact that Clarke is also coming really helped her decision. They look at her, utterly confused, and tell her they are not going to sign Clarke — they never even considered it.

Lexa feels betrayed and cuts Clarke off completely. It gets worse when she hears that Clarke has been promoted to FC Porto captain, because now she knows that this was Clarke's intention all along: to lure her away so she could take both her spot and her spotlight — at her club. The club Lexa has always dreamed of playing for. The club Lexa has always dreamed of captaining. The club Lexa has always dreamed of winning silverware for (and never got to). The club she never even wanted to leave in the first place.

Still she promises herself to do her very best for Wolves. To be the best version of herself she can be. Lexa shines for her new club and is elected both Best Championship Player and Best Young Championship Player. She leads Wolverhampton to direct promotion to the Premier League, attracting the attention of every major European club, but she decides to stay put.

By the end of the season however she makes the mistake of tuning in to Portuguese news and sees Clarke raise the Portuguese League trophy for FC Porto. She sees red and throws the remote at the screen, yelling, "That is my club! That was supposed to be me!" Her cousin Anya tells her to suck it up and show the world how good she is.

Clarke garners the attention of several Giants and AC Milan pay 40 million euros to sign her. The Italian league has become very popular again in the wake of Cristiana Ronalda taking Juventus to Champions League glory.

On her debut season in the Premier League, Lexa leaves everyone's jaws hanging open with her talent. They guarantee qualification to the Europa League with Lexa as their biggest star. She also follows Clarke's career, her resentment growing and growing — easy to blame her shortcomings and hate someone who isn't there to defend themselves. She keeps up to date on how successful Clarke's AC Milan carecer is turning out, winning a Scudetto on her very first season.

Summer comes and several giants try to sign her, but Lexa chooses Inter Milan just so she can be Clarke's rival. They pay 80 million euros to take her to Italy.

Once there she conquers her space right away and becomes Inter's brightest star in a matter of weeks. Inter are leading the Serie A with eight points over their rivals when the Derby della Madonnina (the Milan derby) arrives. The Giuseppe Meazza is tearing at the seams.

Lexa spends the whole of the first half poking the Clarke bear, feeding off her own resentment towards the blonde. Clarke tells her in clear terms to back off, but she doesn't. Until on the 72th minute, just the play after she lost a ball to Clarke quite embarrassingly, Lexa sees red again and tackles Clarke hard. The collision is so violent that everyone in the stadium hears a loud CRACK — Clarke's leg is broken and she cries out in pain.

The referee shows Lexa the red card right away. A fight breaks out between Milan and Inter players, the former trying to jump Lexa for injuring their leader and the latter trying to protect her. As she hears Clarke's cries of pain over everything else it finally dawns on Lexa what she has done. She collapses to her knees, not even able to cry, appalled and terrified at how she let her anger control her and maybe ended a colleague's career. She may have ended Clarke's career.

Clarke is carried away straight to the hospital, where she stays overnight. Lexa leaves the pitch and the stadium altogether and follows the ambulance to the hospital. She stays there and waits for Clarke's surgery to be over. Clarke's parent arrive and she stands up immediately and says she's so, so sorry, and asks them to please, please forgive her. To Lexa's surprise, they hug her and say all is forgiven on their behalf. Clarke might have a harder time to come around though.

Clarke's friends and teammates arrive at the hospital and are pissed to find Lexa there. Amidst insults (that she doesn't respond to, too defeated and remorseful), they try to kick her out, but Abby and Jake overrule them and say she can stay.

Clarke comes out of surgery. She's stable and might be able to play again. Lexa feels a huge weight lift off her shoulders. It's the morning after when they can finally visit Clarke and her parents allow Lexa to be second (they're first).

When she enters Clarke's room she's welcomed with a flying book and forced to retreat. She doesn't let it deter her. She stays in the hospital for a week — Clarke has to do a lot of physical therapy and the doctors decide to keep her there for some time —, barely eating, going back home just to shower, waiting and waiting for Clarke to invite her into her room.

At last Clarke's parents tell her that the blonde has requested her presence. Lexa apologizes thoroughly, for everything. Clarke reveals that she knows why Lexa was so angry and wishes she'd have given her a chance to explain at the time — the Porto president lied to her, saying Wolverhampton were interested in signing her, so she would convince Lexa to take their offer. She called Lexa right after she found out she'd been played, but Lexa never answered and eventually she stopped trying. She just never expect Lexa to hold a grudge so big that she would willingly injure her the day they first met after years apart. Lexa says she never set out to injure Clarke, who in turn calls her a liar. Lexa bows her head and admits to her bad intentions, she cries and says she's sorry; she's so, so sorry. Clarke tells her she'll never forgive her. Be that as it may, Lexa kneels for Clarke and vows to treat her needs as her own and do everything in her power to help Clarke bounce back ASAP.

Clarke relents and tells her she can start by reading her the book she threw at her head the week before. Lexa is happy she can help in any way Clarke allows her.

Clarke goes back home the next week and over the following weeks Lexa basically becomes her personal nurse, doting on her practically 24/7. It annoys Clarke to no end.

Lexa's punishment is announced: 20 games out. She takes it in stride; in a press conference, she apologizes to everyone involved — clubs, players, fans, and above all Clarke — and announces that she will only ay again when Clarke returns to full fitness. A journalist asks her what if Clarke never plays again. Lexa says if that happens then she will never play again either. Inter Milan accept her decision and promise not to get rid of her. Lexa asks to have her salary cut to half until she comes back. Clarke, who watched the press conference, feels herself begin to forgive Lexa.

Lexa is there every step of the way as Clarke recovers. Over the months, Clarke forgives Lexa and a new kind of connection begins to develop between them. Clarke was defeated at first, but with Lexa by her side she starts to smile more, laugh more, believe more that she can make a full recovery and play at the level she used to again. Lexa, on the other hand, is already head over heels in love with Clarke. Jake and Abby are totally rooting for them.

After nine, gruelling moths of treatment, Clarke finally returns to full training with Milan in September, just after the new season started. Lexa, who has been training to get back to top shape, also returns to full training with Inter. They both have their "redebuts" with their respective clubs and, although their competitive rhythm is not yet the best, the fans revel the chance to see their idols back on the pitch, their qualities intact. Because Clarke returns on the last game of a matchday, Lexa decides to only make her return the following week. She doesn't want to experience football (soccer) again before Clarke. It makes Clarke's heart melt.

The night of Lexa's debut (a week later from Clarke's), Clarke watches it on the TV. Lexa returns home that night to find Clarke there. Before she can ask what Clarke is doing there, the blonde kisses her.

After some initial lack of definition, Clarke and Lexa become girlfriends. They try to hide their relationship, but fail miserably at it. The fans should be angry that the captains of their cutthroat rival teams are dating, but they find it too adorable to care. On the first Derby di Milano since they got back, they shake hands proudly. There's even a funny episode: Lexa and Clarke argue over a possible foul, but when another Inter player tries to join the argument, Lexa sends her away with an authoritative glare. Inter win with a great goal from Lexa and after the final whistle Clarke refuses to shake her hand. But Lexa just laughs and kisses her cheek, earning an eye roll from her girlfriend.

Clarke's AC Milan wins the Scudetto that year, but Lexa's Internazionale steals the title from then the next two years. After three years of dating, Clarke and Lexa decide to get married.

On their fourth year, Lexa's Inter win the "triplete": Serie A, Cup of Italy, and Champions League, and Lexa's Portugal beats Clarke's USA in the World Cup final. Lexa wins the Ballon d'Or. The next year, however, it's AC Milan who win the UCL, and Clarke gets the Ballon d'Or.

When they're both 30, they decide it's time to let their contracts expire and go back home. They sign for FC Porto (who have a new, much better president) for "free" (lbh signing bonuses are never low) and win the Portuguese League five times in a row, with Lexa as captain and Clarke as vice-captain. Lexa reaaallly tries not to, but she cries when she lifts her first trophy with the captain's armband. Porto are still the first team who has ever won five league titles in a row, and now they've done it twice. They also win the Champions League on their fifth year, the third in the club's history, and Lexa cries again. Clarke denies it, but she does too.

The girls retire at age 35. They have their whole lives in front of them.

#what would've been my soccer fic #40 chapters long #i'll never write it though #i'd never do it justice #clexa #clexa au #my fics #drabble #lesbihonest this is all my football fantasies thrown together to create a great messy pile of mush #also remember: only porto is penta!#chora o vitória #chora o vieira #penta xau penta xau #penta xau #xau xau #clexa soccer au

80 notes · View notes

that-thing-that-feeling · 6 years

Text

the sunday times style magazine article below cut:

Even if you’re not one of the 139m people worldwide subscribed to Netflix, you will have heard of Stranger Things. The American sci-fi/horror/coming-of-age series, which was launched in July 2016, became the most-discussed TV show of the year and was impossible to ignore. Twitter hashtags went viral, and there were rave reviews, thinkpieces upon thinkpieces and celebrity fans from Reese Witherspoon to Barack Obama. It rebooted the career of its lead, Winona Ryder, and made overnight stars of its unknown cast members, including 22-year-old British actor Charlie Heaton, now 25. “When it launched, I was shooting a film in a tiny Spanish town where most people don’t speak English,” Heaton says. “In a day or two, my Instagram following went up by thousands. I was at a street market and some Spanish people came up and said, ‘Stranger Things!’ That’s when I knew it had blown up.”

The Stranger Things juggernaut is still going strong — the third series will start on July 4 — as is Heaton. He’s about to take up one of the lead roles in a highly anticipated X-Men horror spin-off, The New Mutants (out in August), has landed the title role in the BBC’s new version of The Elephant Man, and last month was at the Ferragamo show in Milan fashion week. As for that Instagram following? It’s now in the millions.

Heaton arrives on the set for this shoot — a pub in East London — bang on time, holding a pack of rolling tobacco and wearing Burberry trousers and a coat with the collar turned up. He shakes hands with everyone and asks if there’s time for a “quick smoke”. He is slightly restless — and will “nip out for a quick smoke” and to check his constantly beeping phone three more times before we break for lunch. So convincing is his American accent (which he maintains throughout filming), most people are surprised to learn that he’s from Bridlington in Yorkshire. “I tell people I’m from up north and that blows their mind,” he laughs. Disappointingly, the northern accent isn’t strong. “It gets stronger when I go home at Christmas,” he says. He’s still best friends with the lads he went to school with, some of whom “don’t even watch anything I’m in”. Do they make you get all the drinks in now? “Actually, a lot of them are like, ‘Let me buy you a drink, mate, I can still get you a drink.’ It’s a northern thing.” He smiles and lights another roll-up.

In Stranger Things, Heaton plays Jonathan Byers, older brother of Will Byers, the young boy who disappears in the first episode and kicks off the core storyline of the series. Jonathan’s on/off love interest, Nancy, is played by 22-year-old Nashville-born Natalia Dyer. In real life, the actors have been dating publicly for the past two years, but also dated for a while in secret before the rest of the cast found out.

“It’s nice to be with someone who is in the same world,” Heaton says. “We’ve gone through the same trajectory, so have got to share the ups and downs.” They’re about to move in together and are scouting apartments in New York’s East Village. “I’m very happy,” he smiles, willing the conversation on.

Part of the viral success of Stranger Things was down to its nostalgia-drenched fashion (the first series is set in 1983). The oversized glasses and pussy-bow blouses could have fallen straight off a Gucci campaign, and Louis Vuitton’s Nicolas Ghesquière was so inspired, he sent a Stranger Things T-shirt down the SS18 catwalk. Heaton, with his thin frame, messy hair and razor-sharp cheekbones, is made for designer mood boards.

Last May, he sat front row at the Dior cruise show. That said, “I never knew what a brand was growing up,” he tells me over a beer in the pub’s garden post-shoot. “I’d heard of Gucci and Chanel, but didn’t really know what their purpose was. Then, as you get introduced to them more, you realise their importance in the fashion world.”

On the topic of fashion: it was T-shirts that he and co-star Winona Ryder bonded over on set. “She gave me a T-shirt with the Clash on that she got when she went to see them years ago. Then I was reading The Catcher in the Rye and she told me it was her favourite book. She had made T-shirts based on Pencey Prep, the school [the book’s protagonist] Holden Caulfield went to, so she gave me one of those. She was like, ‘I designed it, I hope you like it!’ Of course I liked it. She’s the queen of cool T-shirts and the queen of cool.”

Heaton grew up with his mother, Michelle, and two older sisters (one of whom, Levi, is also an actress). They are incredibly close. “I think there’s a sensitivity that you have from growing up with three women that you maybe wouldn’t have if you grew up in a house of boys,” he says. His parents separated when he was two, but he remained close to his father. At 16, Heaton went to live with him in London. “That’s where I wanted to end up,” he says. “When I moved there, my uncle said [here he adopts a strong Yorkshire accent], ‘Do you like London, then?’ I said, ‘Yeah, it’s great. Do you think you’d ever leave Bridlington?’ He went, ‘Nah, I’ve got everything I need. I’ve got my house, my girlfriend and Sky Sports.’” Heaton chuckles. “The simplicity of it was great, but I’ve always been one for … excitement.”

Heaton’s first taste of acting was drama classes at school and local youth theatre aged eight to 15. He was also a drummer and, aged 16, he joined a noise rock band, Comanechi, that toured globally and supported Gossip. “I went to Japan, Canada and around Europe, living out of van for a couple of years, which was brilliant.” He got back into acting in adverts, as a way of making cash (one of which involved “congaing behind Kevin Bacon in an EE commercial”). A few small TV roles followed before he went to LA in 2015, found an agent and appeared in a horror film, Shut In, with Naomi Watts. “I’d never been to America, I didn’t have any money, so I stayed in youth hostels, basically backpacking for a month and auditioning,” he says. “By then I knew that all I wanted to do was act.” That same year, he got the part in Stranger Things.

In 2017, Heaton made headlines when he was denied entry into the US at LAX airport, reportedly because traces of cocaine were found in his luggage. After being detained, Heaton released a statement, saying that due to “an issue at US immigration”, he was unable to enter the country. I ask how he feels about the incident now, if there is anything he’d like to say about it. He shifts in his seat, clearly wishing to be anywhere else, then switches off my Dictaphone. He only wants to speak off the record about this. It seems he doesn’t know yet what he wants to say, he feels terrible about the whole thing and desperately wants to change the subject. “Can we talk about something else?” he asks.

We return to the safer territory of how life has changed since Stranger Things. “I still audition for stuff I don’t get,” he says; though one role he has just secured is Joseph Merrick, the 19th-century Englishman whose facial deformity led to him becoming known as the Elephant Man. The BBC project is still in development, but Heaton has already faced criticism from the disability charity Scope and some actors, who say the role should have gone to a disabled actor. “I can see their point,” says Heaton. “I think there has to be some balance. There are roles in both episodes that will include disabled actors with that specific disability. But, disabled or not, you would hope that the right person for the role gets it and that’s based on a whole range of things. I don’t make those decisions.”

The pub’s garden is busying and the landlady is waiting impatiently for a picture with Heaton. He’s due to meet some mates at another pub before heading back to his dad’s place, where he stays when he’s in town. Then what? “I’m looking for something different,” he replies. “I’ve played a lot of outsiders.” Maybe it’s time for a comedy? “Yeah, but I’m not funny! I just want to keep acting, keep casting the net wide.” The boy from Bridlington as Hollywood’s Next Big Thing? Stranger things have happened.

#hopefully that read more is working #otherwise srry will appear as long post

40 notes · View notes

theheartofpenelope · 5 years

Text

SIMPLE THINGS - Prologue

The prologue is my first building block - thank you for being patient with me... much more Tom in the next chapter... promise! Meanwhile, I do hope you enjoy this part.

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Not beta’d.

Also on AO3 through this link Bonus : click here for the pinterest moodboard:

London

The seminar was everything Charlotte had hoped it would be. It nurtured her desire for more in-depth information on specific subjects of her interest and the attending professionals were amiable, their visions thought provoking. The fact that she would take the stage for a discourse the very next day was both a source of excitement and anxiety.

She’d promised herself to not dread this adventure she was currently experiencing, but rather to embrace it. With both arms wide open. And surprisingly enough, up until now she had managed to do so rather well… if you didn’t take into account the gut-wrenching, nerve-wracking 10 minutes she had to suffer through every time she was about to present herself on stage. You see, what Charlotte had in intelligence, she lacked in self-confidence.

After the last speech of the day, Charlotte had allowed herself a mere 15 minutes of networking before eagerly dashing off to her hotel room where she straightway jumped into the shower to freshen herself up. She swiftly slipped into a cobalt-blue dress (a summer favourite of hers, she would have to confess) and slid her feet into a pair of midnight blue pumps. Grasping her matching clutch, she set sail through the doors and into the summer night.

Oh, the lure of recreation after a day of exertion …

Charlotte hadn’t felt so excited in a long time. It was quite strange really. The moment she set foot in the UK again, a sense of happy nostalgia settled upon her. Charlotte wasn’t British, not really. However her maternal grandparents had British roots. Although her grandfather’s job had led him all through Europe back in his young years, and his wife and 2 daughters along with him. Together they’d seen a fair share of countries, before the family ultimately settled down by the English seaside near Whitstable, Kent.

A soft smile curled across her lips as she vaguely remembered summer days spent by Whitstable Marina when she was a child, her tiny hand in her granddad’s as they strolled around looking at boats, attending the Oyster Festival and watching those silly yet traditional parades. She loved it. Although, truth be told, she was more infatuated with the girls who got to dress up as mermaids. Secretly wishing that somehow, one day, she could dress up to play a mermaid as well. It was her silver lining to the Oysters Festival. Grown-ups indulged in the culinary event, but to a child the whole Festival-site just smelled ‘funny’, ‘fishy’ and ‘yucky’. Even to this day the stench haunted her. It set her off oysters for life…

As a result of their lifestyle her grandparents’ two daughters were brought up speaking multiple languages and were encouraged to take part in life wherever it would bring them. It was a characteristic both daughters mechanically bestowed upon their own children. While both daughters aimed for permanent habitat as they grew into adulthood, a life that didn’t involve moving around all the time, they insisted their own children to travel explore and learn.

Yes, the effects on Charlotte’s generation were clear. While her brother had submerged himself in science and unsurprisingly settled for a life on the other side of the world (at NASA). Charlotte grew up to be a curious and avid traveller as well as an Anglophile, with an outspoken passion for English literature that extended from literature into drama. Her mum had prided herself on the English bedtime stories they would all read together when her children were mere kids; truly crediting this had provided the solid base for her children’s future successful endeavours. Her husband did not protest, but smiled back at her in loving admiration.

But tonight, this night, Charlotte’s excitement wasn’t solely based on happy nostalgia. Not entirely. Fact of the matter is that she had always dreamed of catching a play at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre in London. Someday. The fact that Sir Ian McKellen was performing King Lear at the exact time when she would be in London for professional reasons was just perfect. A dream come true. Were it not that from within the bounds of her country it had seemed sheer impossible to book tickets for said play.

It had driven her absolutely mad. So when opportunity knocked some 10 days ago and she was offered a ticket, she most definitely did not decline. Quite the contrary. Charlotte was not one to beg for anything but when someone wanted to bestow a ticket upon her as a means of saying ‘thank you’, who was she to refuse it…

So far, it was the perfect night already. The underground was running precisely on schedule and so Charlotte made it into the Globe Theatre right on time.

Both delighted and amazed by the sights of the Theatre under that setting summer sun, she sauntered towards the entrance, ready to watch that Shakespeare play performed, as it would have been for those watching it back in the 1600’s. Somewhat. A content smile crept across her lips, her giddy inner child leapt for joy.

The e-mail sent to her advised Charlotte to check in at the Box Office where a ticket would be kept aside under her name. She made a mental note to send a thank you note of some sort afterwards to her generous benefactor even though most likely it was his publicist who’d essentially done all the work. And subsequently mused that she would - and should - make a point out of addressing the publicist and his efforts quite clearly…

Once ‘inside’ Charlotte was formally ushered into a – in her opinion - beautiful box. The entire Theatre was constructed out of wood. The seats were plain, yet beautiful, wooden benches built in between makeshift boxes. The Theatre in its own was quite basic, taking place in open air. But the history surrounding it humbled her instantly.

The box in which she would be seated was set in the centre of the middle floor, from where the view on the stage was nothing short of spectacular. “The RADA-box, ma’am,” the usher had courteously informed her. And it had to be said, the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art really did have the perfect seats within the entire Theatre. Charlotte happily accepted the faux-velvet cushion that was offered to her before she made her way to her designated place in the box, anxious and curious for what would ensue.

The Theatre was filling up quickly, she observed. The RADA-box however was not. When the lights faded and the curtains were about to open, she noticed one seat was left unoccupied. Shame, she thought, you’d at least expect RADA to fill up its seats, night after night… The moment Sir Ian McKellen took the stage, however, she abandoned all other thought and revelled in pure bliss. The actor, the theatre, the play, they all moved her heart.

The well-known story swept her away instantly and intermission came far too soon to her liking. While the fellow theatregoers left the box in search for refreshments, Charlotte chose to head the opposite way and walked towards the banister from where she absent-mindedly watched the Yard down below and the audience there who trickled on out into the hallway.

She never took notice of the one man who remained in the box with her, who observed her and her inquisitive ways with an amused look. It was only when she eventually turned around - ready to get a drink herself - that his pair of familiar clear blue eyes sympathetically locked with hers…

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston x ofc #simple_things

17 notes · View notes

coolknowledgeispower · 5 years

Text

Social dictators Cristiano Ronaldo- El Rey

It’s very important to comprehend the magnitude of social influence and how SOME people take charge whilst others remain in a herd. This is not to say that the herd do not have the power to wake up, they certainly do. It is not a person’s fault to idolize another person, it is the extent to which that person will go to make this idolized person different from him/her. That is important.

Social dictators, especially in the 21st century, dictate and work in cohesion with brands to sell their products. They are the medium- social media is an instrument to relay the message. We have multiple biases and one goes by the name of, association, which is within our psyche. Stereotypes are one of these associations, and with the work of social dictators, the public makes a connection/association with their products and thus consume more of their goods. For example, Cristiano Ronaldo’s partnership with Nike. Cristiano is widely popular and his success in the football world has given him access to lucrative deals with other brands. Ronaldo according to Business Insider generated 500 million dollars in value for Nike from his social media properties in 2016. He also received a billion-life pact contract in 2016. We will also be evaluating his present-day scores; previous statistics were recorded in 2017. . His accumulation of prosperity and attention, success in having his own shoe line and sales that come from it, this is a stem that is the root of this contract.

Ronaldo reached 262 million followers on all his socials: 120 million followers on Facebook-fact; 122 million as of 2019, falling below Facebook at number 1 with 214 million likes, and 2nd Samsung at 160 million likes. Checked it myself as of 9/28/19 at 10:30 A.M. This is amusing. There is no other human with such followers or likes until 7th place. And of course, Shakira with 100 million likes. Big entities such as Real-Madrid at 4th, not surprised there.

Real Madrid is a historical city and team; however, they had not won the prize that every team in every European league is eyeing. The Champions League, since the 2001-2002 final. Ronaldo has 4 UEFA (Union of European Football Associations)Champions League titles under his belt. 3 won in a row. He also won 15 trophies in his time in Real Madrid from 2009-2018. In the football realm, its either Ronaldo or Lionel Messi, who is also considered one of the best in the world. I would say many people know Ronaldo because of his large following and possibly because he knows English, he is able to connect to more people. But that is just a bias I could be showcasing.

Transitioning back to his socials: Twitter followers equal to 80.1 million followers and Instagram 185 million followers. Now, the projections of 2017 statistics said 262 million followers in the social sphere. 2019 accumulative as of today, 387.1 million followers. Mind-boggling, Nike understands the height of Ronaldo’s success, furthermore. According to Forbes, Niall McCarthy reiterates on the fact that Juventus benefitted before Ronaldo had arrived to the club. The bare news that circulated after the transfer was accomplished, saw Juventus share increase by 40 percent. Consequently, Juventus socials were flooded by 1.5 new million followers in one day. Business Insider, reported 520,000 Ronaldo Jerseys sold in 24 hours. That is worth 62.4 million in revenue and the football clubs receive 10-15 percent of the revenue, so Juventus got about 6-9 million dollars.

Ronaldo has an influence wherever he goes. You can say that money does fall from his tree. 2 years ago, Ronaldo posted 347 pictures that included the Nike logo or mention, and this generated 477 million interactions.

This is a transaction of social influence into monetary power.

Ronaldo has amassed quite a following, let us try to understand why that is from a psychological perspective/philosophical perspective.

Medium is the Message

Marshall McLuhan in his interview, recorded in 1977. “…When you trigger these vast media that we use, you are manipulating an entire population…” We have different avenues to lose ourselves into provided by the big corporations. In George Orwell’s famous book 1984. His belief was that the practice of hedonism was on the rise through a consumable western society. We have different brands and they each have customers. This in turn would decrease the freedom of western societies. The impediment of freedom to venture towards self-reflection, our leisure time spent in finding ways to better society, Theodor Adorno from the Frankfurt School explains this well. The School of Life on YouTube goes in-depth with this notion. Becoming the herd, rendering individuality by a consumable collective. This is what I call the matrix. Orwell believes this nature in society(hedonism) makes people less resistant to change, Aldous Huxley-in his book Brave New World had his own interpretation: this could be used as a tool to oppress, Academy of Ideas on Youtube explains, “… because people will willingly forgo freedom for sensory pleasure and endless consumption, ‘ (side note- one quotation mark is input from the understanding put forth, carry on) bringing us back to Ronaldo’s influence by the number of followers he has’… if a society can be structured so that people can devout much of their time to pursuing pleasures, gratifying materials wants and even drugging themselves to escape reality...” There was a lot of worry about how the future of technological/ media improvements would have on the masses, used as a tool to spread ideological thoughts whilst unknowingly becoming part of a system. If you’re to respond to this paragraph sir, what would you say, ‘Well, this is true. I believe we should understand the pessimistic side of situations and find a solution to these circumstances. Although association and grouping of people are in our DNA as we are social beings, we cannot escape if one is not willing to. Furthermore, one needs to be strict with oneself, abide by some rules, discipline. A few philosophies I like to follow are stoicism and epicureanism. These thoughts on the way of life have stopped me from getting lost in the sauce/illusion. In addition, it’s also important to understand, these media have created different approaches in making money, and some capitalize on it, and it’s a bonus when one is being successful.’

Group Psychology

Edward Bernays developed a theory called group psychology. In his book, Propaganda, released in 1928 *clears throat* ‘the minute people who have a deep sense of knowing how to control the masses through symbols and manipulation of habits... a constitution of people who control a country’. Bernays developed complex manipulation techniques used by companies to sell products. Sigmund Freud thoughts on group psychology, “concerned with the individual man as a member of a race, of a nation, of a caste, of a profession, of an institution, or as a component part of a crowd of people who have been organized into a group of at some particular time for some definite purpose.” Group Psychology tries to understand the psychology of people once they are branded as a group, the habits, thoughts, behaviors, how do they alter once involved in a crowd.

There was a survey done reported by Business Wire, it was working around the understanding of group psychology. Customers are influenced more by influencers than the brand itself. I remember watching a video of an influencer, and he was saying that. His followers do not purchase products in the ads that he puts on his videos, but rather products that he uses genuinely in his life. In the United States and United Kingdom, influencers have had an impact on how consumers’ purchase: “44 percent of all respondents said they have considered purchasing a product or service based on a social influencer post; 31 percent said they have already purchased a product or service based on an influencer post, and 24 percent said they have recommended a product or service based on an influencer post.”

I’m ready to gobble all your feedback, toodles

1 note · View note

lavieestuneimpasse-blog · 5 years

Text

Dream Job: Nightmares Are Dreams Too

Introduction

While growing up, we all have a projection of our dream jobs in our dream companies and the type of working environment that we want to be part of. As we continue to grow, we find out that searching for a good job is not as easy as choosing your appetizer, entrée and dessert on a menu. I mean, if you want a job you can just get hired by any company at any vacant position that they offer. It’s not that easy, though. You’re not just looking for a job. You are looking for a good job – the sort of job that will make you grow and unleash your strengths and will help you manage your weaknesses as an individual and as a professional, the kind of job that will bring food to the table without taking away a significant amount of your time for the other aspects of your life, the type of job that will not get you killed from late night suicidal thoughts of depression.

As for me, I can’t say that I’ve been very good at choosing the job and company that I worked with. The company that I currently work with is the third employer on my resume. The first one was so good for my professional competence but was just as bad for my work life balance with an immeasurable extent of unpaid overtime works. We drank on late night to morning overtimes in our own workplace to ease the pressures. The second one made me explore the life outside work more but has bored me with less exposure to professional challenges that a workplace can offer. Drinking was cut off to the minimum since stress is like a once in a month deal which only happens on language barrier scenarios since most of the employees of this past employer are ex patriates who are not that fluent in English and thus, the miscommunication problems. These experiences brought me to this third job which is now giving me varying degrees of mixed emotional signals that trigger my reckless decision-making considerations.

How I Got There

The story begins when I went to PESO – a government office where some companies opt to post their job listings for both local and overseas. There was a posting for an accountant position and the minimum requirements and qualifications seem to fit my professional status and experience. After getting the referral sheet from the officer at PESO, I immediately went to the address of the company which posted the job vacancy. I was interviewed by the Human Resource Officer that same day and was scheduled for a final interview with the company president the next day. However, I courteously informed the HR Officer that I’d have to decline and cancel my application due to matters that are unfavorable to me such as the work location and the schedules. Roughly a month later, I had a change of heart and decided to reapply to which I was scheduled for the final interview since I was already on the shortlisted candidates. The intimidating panel interview happened in the CEO’s office which had a conference table in it which involved the president, the finance comptroller and the HR officer. The CEO was at his own table although it’s unfathomable if he was also listening to the interview. They scrutinized my transcript of records from my university’s registrar, asked some really thought-provoking questions and set my expectations really high. That was when I realized how demanding the role can be to which I was very up to. It did make me excited and overwhelmed at the same time. I am usually the type of person who takes on a lot of risks when it comes to my career path. As they say, go big or go home.

The Experience

On the first day, we normally assess the working environment of an organization – the company culture, the people, and the system. I am at the point in my life where work is like a second home to me. I am in the chapter where my career path is of my utmost concern and this challenging job could make or break it.

Being the accountant that I am, I was assigned in the Finance and Accounting department. My immediate supervisor is the Finance Comptroller while I’m supposed to directly coordinate with the Accounting Officer based solely on the seniority since she has spent the most number of years of service to the department. She was a nice person but as someone whom I’m supposed to look up to in terms of the professional environment, she’s not the best person to be manning the department. Her instructions are vague as if she doesn’t want to explain things to her teammates. As the most senior employee in our department, she’s supposed to establish the process flow in an orderly and efficient manner. She was the one who requested for an additional manpower in the department but when I arrived, she seems hesitant to give me the tasks that she’s handling to the extent that when I ask for some files to be worked on she doesn’t seem to want to help. For the record, she only gave me the tasks that she doesn’t seem to like working on such as the government compliance requirements and other matters. The process, the system and the people don’t seem to work in accord for the company that has been established for decades already. For an orchestra to create a good harmony, the conductor has to be good at making sure that the melody and the rhythm of each and every instrument is in harmony with the others. An employee may be good at doing his role in the company but when the other parts of the organization is a mess, so does the whole. Even if a violinist is good at playing his violin, when the cello is out of tune and the drums are offbeat, the whole orchestra is just a big pile of mess.

A few months passed by while people come and go at a drastic rate and although I absolutely know why this is happening, I do know that I still have a role to play in this company. After my senior officer resigned without any sort of transmittal of documents and turnover of the necessary files, I was forced to assume the task of being the officer-in-charge in our department. It was hard enough that she didn’t impart her working knowledge in the first place and it was even harder since the annual audit was fast approaching and I had to consolidate a few months’ worth of financial information – the significant amount of which are yet to be found since no transitional turnover took place. The only good thing about the incident was because I had a very supportive team of tough individuals whom I will forever be thankful for. Our team are in full cooperation with consolidating all the information that we could find while simultaneously coordinating with the compilers in providing the needed files for audit. It was tiring. It was draining. It was hellish. It was basically something that has the potential to make someone lose the basic sanity… but we didn’t. As the saying goes, what doesn’t kill can be killed by you. Or was it that? Anyways, the thing is that we were able to finalize the financial statements and filed the returns days before the deadline. Yes, we totally killed it and I’m pleased with what we have achieved as a squad.

The euphoric feeling of success was short-lived for afterwards, other matters blew up like a massive volcanic eruption. My work buddies resigned and their replacements couldn’t take on the pressure of the job and the working environment. Other compliance related issues started building up caused by malpractices and negligence in in the past years. The workplace factions kept getting rampant like a virus diffusion which seemed like a lethal epidemic to the company’s juridical existence. Even the members of the top management gave the impression of having internal conflicts with their varying decisions that seem to confuse the employees on whose order must be followed. There seems to be a problem on the chain of commands which can be a bit perplexing for the employees. According to The Art of War by Sun Tzu, one of the six calamities not arising from natural causes but from faults of the general is disorganization which befalls when the general’s orders are not clear and distinct, when there are no fixed duties assigned to officers and men, and the orders are formed in a sloppy messy manner. There were even strikes from related parties led by one of the officers which can be viewed as a direct attack to the management in the corporate governance. It was a hellishly dramatic scene for the organization and although it was resolved, it has affected the morale of the employees.

What Made Me Stay And How I Coped Up

Every working environment has its own distinctive blends of stress. Nevertheless, we need the job that pays the rent and brings food to the table so at the beginning of each day up to the end of each shift, we endure whatever bullshit is served with grace under pressure. Don’t get me wrong. I love my profession. After getting into college, I already knew the life that I will be living after acquiring my license. I was prepared and trained for this. I love how this job has made me tougher as an individual and as an accountant but the people around me clearly pointed out that I’m being too tough and I have to soften up a bit… and there goes one of my problems: I forgot how to soften up because I was so focused on being strong.

I would have to be honest that one of the reasons which made me stay in the company was the compensation that I was receiving although there were no other benefits such as insurance and bonuses, it was enough for me to save money for my future endeavors. However, the compensation cannot compensate for the mental an emotional impact that has befallen upon me. As for that, I did have an astounding group of work friends who has the same way of coping up with stress as I do – out-of-town escapades, stress-eating, drinking, karaoke, disco, etc. Before any judgment, we never got into troubles, we do all of it responsibly and with class. It has always been fun and it sure eases our work stress and whatever stress this whole “adulting” has casted upon us. Sometimes, when I’m alone and in my introvert mode, I just lay in bed whole day while either browsing social media networks or just reading a good book. At times when I feel creative, I paint some of my inspirations or I cook food – more like an experimental edible stuff since I suck at cooking and I don’t care if those boring stereotypical bitches say that women should be able to cook because I don’t live by that. Women have much greater potentials than just being able to cook. Anyways, I often go to the cinemas and watch a movie alone or visit cafes, too – milk tea is life. Coping up with work stress is doing what eases the anxiety and it really just depends on what a person needs.

What Made Me Decide To Leave

a. Job Satisfaction

After being handed with the tasks that I am supposed to be doing, I did enjoy it for a short while. Unfortunately, I feel like I’m not really doing the soul of my profession – financial reporting and analysis. I did mostly the compliance part but that was just it – taxes and regulatory remittances. The thing about taxes is that they should be based from the financial reporting and analysis which doesn’t really happen in all actuality in this company. I can’t feel good about my job. In terms of cash management which is a finance function, I cannot really account or reconcile anything since our department is not in full control of the checks and the passbook. It’s funny, isn’t it? The first item in the balance sheet is cash and it is one of the items which we have limited access as to the balances and the movements. So how can there be a financial statement when the first item in the balance sheet is … subject to restricted access leading to irreconcilable balances? If you’re an employer and you don’t even trust your employees to do their job, why do you even hire them? I don’t know. Things don’t connect and it felt hopeless to be satisfied.

b. Top Management / Organizational Chart

I was told that there is an organizational chart but I haven’t seen anything like that in the company or if there is, boy do I know that it wasn’t really followed. I mean multiple positions per person is normal since multitasking is a thing as long as the authorization, custody and recording functions are not merged in the same person but I don’t really see an organized body in the company. What’s my basis? The approval and chain of commands are really messy to the point that it often confuses the employees.

c. Work Environment

I love my team mates. The degree of cooperation and team spirit in the Finance and Accounting department is so high and I know that we support each other in times of need. I just makes me sad that in my one year of employment, I’ve worked with roughly 5 teams of employees. The total number of people who resigned was around 13 and think I will be the 14th. I’ll have to be honest, I blame the misallocation of funds and bad leadership from the command center for this department. Our team can work with minimum supervision regardless of our varying ages. The main problem is the funds which sarcastically happens to be the lifeblood of the whole operations.

The workplace has factions and I can feel a cold war between employees and it just disrupts the harmonious working environment. These people have so much hate for anyone whom they judge easily. I can remember when I first came in the company I heard that someone said, “Not all CPAs are smart.” I was upset and the level of insecurity of that person is higher than the office building’s top roof. So yeah. I will never deny that it’s a toxic workplace with factions from either sides of the top management. Anyone who denies that is either blind or a hypocrite. Both of which are no good.

d. Company Culture

I do know that the problem is systemic in nature but the company has been operating for roughly two decades now. Sure, they survived it but if in those two decades they didn’t correct what seems to be an inexcusable practice of dealing with compliance matters, I don’t think they would really listen to someone who’s willing to help. I don’t know why they are more willing to invest in “gifts” but they are unwilling to invest in training and development of their people or in software that would really benefit the system process as a whole. I cannot speak for their decision-making since I know they want the best for the company but I hope they also listen to what is right and just even if it’s not a convenient thing to do.

e. My Mentor/Motivator

I don’t really have a mentor who speaks the same language that I do. I am thankful of my immediate boss for the guidance and support that was given to me but it just feels competitive and reassuring when the person you look up to in the workplace is professionally linked to the heart and soul of your profession.

I do get career counseling from some people in the top management and elders in the office and I am so grateful for them for giving me a better outlook on work and life but they’re not someone whom I can confirm my IAS application of theories. I’m not saying that they’re incompetent but I want a validation from someone who has been in my feet years ago, someone who has withstood all the challenges in this field that I am encountering now.

f. Violation Of My Sacred Oath

It’s so hard to tell communicate to your immediate supervisor that this is not the right way to do it based on the unforgiving principles that you learned when all the response that you will get is based on the decade’s worth of practices which are obviously wrong.

I’ve processed “gifts” which are obviously not an accepted practice. I don’t want to take part in their not-so-clean games but they justify it by saying that in this industry, it is normal to give out those “gifts” and even called it an SOP. I feel so guilty for it and it’s just a tragedy for me and my sacred oath to do such things.

What I Want To Find In A Company

This current experience in this job taught me a lot of things. I learned the hard way and this company has made me realize that a good work culture is as much as important as a good pay.

I want a company that will let me excel in what I’m good at and help me strengthen my weak spots. A supportive immediate supervisor will be helpful in developing me as a competitive accountant in this field. The importance of a clear role in the organization will help an employee to play his/her role in the working environment, thus, an organization must have a structured organizational chart.

Being able to trust your team is the beginning of a good team effort. Everyone has to believe in each member of the team and in what each person can accomplish. All people are trust-worthy until proven otherwise. A good leader is someone who listens to his/her subordinates to understand and not just to make a response to what they’ve said.

I will be leaving the company because I know that it wasn’t working for me to be there anymore but I will always carry with me the good memories and the lessons that my stay has taught me.

#work #work stress #work rant #diary

2 notes · View notes

tomfuckinhardy-blog · 6 years

Text

Smoke Mate (Tom Hardy x OFC)

First part of LOVE IN MOTION

Genre: Smut

Author’s note: This is pure fictional work. So please, don't be offended by the inconsistencies with reality. Plus, my English is not perfect because I'm French but I'm working really hard on it so you ever want to suggest any corrections or help, or just talking you're welcome.

I've messed up with the Peaky Blinders show too and Lord knows how much I love this show exactly as it is, so please apologize for this too. ENJOY.

I would like to thanks the sweet @they-are-not-just-stories Kayla you are so precious. You’re the best bétâ reader, the most supportive and patient friend ❤️

Follow Love in Motion on Wattpad

Follow Love In Motion on AO3

The first time Tom met her, was at the Old Granada Studios in Manchester. It was a few days before the Peaky Blinders season two filming started in late Fall. All the cast, the writers, and the producers had a table reading session for the next three days. Tom has just joined the cast and was talking with Paul Anderson and Cillian Murphy, whom he was close with for having worked with them in the past. When his dog, Woody, suddenly ran to a woman who was coming towards them. The young woman stopped and squatted as she welcomed Woody with a big smile, scratching between his ears and then broke out into giggles when the animal licked her face. Tom was really surprised by his dog's behaviour. Tom had rescued him some months ago but he'd never seen Woody going up to a stranger like this before, it was like the dog already knew and trusted her. This feeling was shared by his owner because Tom had never met her before but of course, he knew who this woman was. Her name was Sasha Whitley, an actress who was half French from her mother's side and half English from her father's. Sasha was known for her breathtaking beauty, she was of average height with a perfect body and amazing curves with legs for days. With long brown wavy hair, a perfect doll face, and big deep blue almond-shaped eyes. She was emanating something unique, a mix of confidence, class, sexiness and elegance. Tom could easily understand why she'd been elected several times for the most beautiful, sexy or stylish woman in the world. Sasha was also recognized as a great and talented actress and had won many prestigious awards. She'd already filmed with the greatest directors, even though she was not yet 30 years old. She starred in the Peaky Blinders as Victoria Shelby, Tommy's twin, and the only sister among the Shelby brothers, but at least was as badass as them.

Despite her superstar status, she was approachable, unassuming and authentic, talking easily with everyone. On the set, she was a killer, focused, talented and very professional, but behind the scenes she was gorgeous, always dancing and singing or kidding with the boys. Everyone loved her, only saying nice things about her.

During the table reading sessions, it all started with short eye contact between Tom and Sasha. It gradually evolved into a playful flirt as they were both being able to hold the other one's gaze easily, smiling to each other like it was just the two of them in the crowded room. The sexual tension increased each day, Sasha would act innocently and the moment after she call him teasingly Mr. Hardy, flutter and bite her lower lip, Furthermore, Woody was literally stuck to Sasha, following her even to the toilets and guarding the door.

Tom and Sasha quickly became the best smoke mates at the Studios, and he never missed a chance to make his De Niro's face since he noticed how hard it made her laugh and how hard he loved to hear her laugh. They were becoming more and more flirtatious, talking a lot about their respective movies, about cars, motorcycles, music, and sports. They found out they had a lot in common and that they could spend days and nights talking and smoking. They were both sharing interest for animals, and especially of dogs, for charities and political commitments, and the list was endless. Tom was really impressed when he discovered Sasha got a black belt in Krav Maga, and when he wanted to know how she got to martial arts, Sasha explained that she'd always been very athletic, involved in dancing or surfing but that she also grew up with four brother's, so fighting and sports came to her easily. It was kind of a survival impulse.

Their lives had been so far relatively similar, except that she lost her mother when she was only twelve years old. As for Tom, she had done modelling after she played in a movie that was a huge box office hit when she was just a kid. They also both struggled with demons in the past, having an addiction to drugs, but got over it after all. She managed to establish herself as a great actress thanks to her amazingly talent, and always making the right choices for her career. Of course, her incredible beauty and femininity had something to do with her success, although she defined herself as a tomboy because she grew up among men.

Tom had been delighted to discover the show production housed him in a typically English house, separated in two, like all the cast members, and that luckily his neighbour was none other than Sasha. He often smiled when he heard to the music she was listening to through the wall. Her music tastes were rather eclectic but were mostly rock, hip hop and rap. He couldn't help but laugh when she started to sing along while he pictured her dancing like a teen. During the first shooting days, Tom was roaming on sets even if he didn't have a scene to shoot while Woody always found a way to get close to Sasha to get some attention from her. Tom was fascinated and couldn't keep his eyes off her, he was analyzing each of her movements, watching her taping on her phone. He was wondering who she was talking to and what she was thinking about when she wrapped a strand of hair around her finger with a thoughtful look. Tom frequently met Sasha doing her daily run in the mornings around the studios when he was walking Woody. Her sport tight pants left no doubt about her sharp, physical shape and was giving him systematic hot flashes.

Tom couldn't help but always looking around for Sasha at any moment, and his weakness for her has been quickly noticed by all the cast, so when Tom asked Paul Anderson if he knew if she was single or not, he started to get teased all the time.

________________________________________________________

After a tough day on the set, Sasha had spent more than two hours on the phone with her best friend. She was driving Sasha crazy, dating an asshole and Sasha couldn't make her see reason about the predictable failure of this relationship.

When she hung up, Sasha decided that she needed some fresh air so she wrapped a soft blanket over her short black dress, put on her grey Ugg boots, grabbed her cigarettes, a white wine bottle, and some mozzarella and goat cheese sticks that a guy on the tech crew offered to her before she headed outside on the porch. She sat on the highest step before lighting a cigarette, took a long sip of wine and finally laid back on the floor. All was quiet and she started to sing softly along to the music coming from inside. She appreciated being alone for a while.

After a few minutes, she suddenly felt something wet against her naked leg and sat up straight in surprise. She finally laughed with relief when she found out it was just Woody licking her skin. She looked up and saw Tom standing just in front of her, all smiling: «I think he has a real crush on you, you know.»

«Like owner; like dog, huh Woody?» Her voice was teasing him as she reached a hand down at Woody and scratched.

Tom shyly smiled: «Are you having a lil' party? Can I join you?»

«Sure.» She smiled still petting Woody as Tom sat down next to her on the steps and cleared his throat: «Your panties are showing, smoke mate.»

«I was not expecting to have an audience.» Sasha snorted and held up the wine bottle: «Want some?»

«No thanks.» Tom laughed.

Sasha frowned and finally understood: «Are you sober? I'm sorry... so do you want some cheese sticks?» Sasha asked as she grabbed the paper bag.

«I was wondering what was in that bag when I saw this technician give it to you.» Tom confessed.

She was not surprised he'd notice she received this little gift from another man: «You're not really good at spying on me.»

Tom laughed: «Can I have one?»

She goes to hand him his stick and realized that the cheese ran down her fingers, hand and arm: «Shit, here take this. Fuck, I don't have any napkins.» She laughed and Tom took it from her and held her small hand tightly by the wrist, never taking his eyes off her, he licked from her wrist to her hand and took her fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. She wasn't laughing

«There...» Tom said quietly, his eyes still on her: «All better now.»

«Fuck that was so hot, Mr. Hardy!» She thought out loud. Tom laughed quietly before he swallowed his cheese stick.

«If I did get messy, you could always clean me off in return...» He said with an impish grin.

She threw her head back and laughed loud as Tom laughed with her. He was so good natured about teasing her. She slid closer to him to give him another stick. Sasha could feel this weird anticipation in her stomach. They spent at least an hour eating, smoking and talking. She was really enjoying him. He made her feel safe and comfortable. Sasha found herself hoping maybe it could turn into something. So she finally decided to make a move. Tom was sitting with his hands wrung together resting between his knees. She started to run her fingers on the six bracelets he was wearing on his opposite wrist. Then, she slowly slid up her fingertips into his hand which made Tom open them instantly and he started interlacing his fingers with hers too, smiling shyly. Her hand was so small into his. Tom wrapped his free arm around her shoulder and pressed her against him before he kissed her forehead.

«Damn! You smell so good.» Sasha whispered.

He snorted, all his senses were alarmed. He could feel her heat against him. Her free soft hand stroking around his thigh and he took a deep breath to inhale her sweet scent too. Sasha's lighter suddenly flipped from her hand and rolled down some steps. As she bent over to grab her lighter, her skirt slid up and Tom couldn't help but watch at her ass and legs and discovered a small tattoo at the top of her right back thigh. He could see it clearly. A small pink bow. Sasha caught his gaze and smiled as he looked away shyly.

«Don't worry. I'm just enjoying the view... nice tattoo by the way.» Tom said looking back at her with his impish smile: «Do ya have any others?»

Sasha smiled back: «Yeah, I've five others. Let's come inside if you want to undress me.»

Tom and Woody followed her inside and she removed her boots and the blanket from her shoulders.

Tom pushed her up against the corridor wall which made her gasp in surprise and pressed his forehead against hers: «Fuck! You drive me crazy.» He used his tongue to lightly swirl the skin of her neck as she bit her lower lip in delight. Tom took her face between his hands, brushing her soft skin and locked his gaze with hers. They suddenly kissed each other. Passionately. A sensual fight started between them like kissing would be the only way to cure this fever sweeping through them. Sasha finally pushed him forward slightly before she lost control and before she tore his clothes apart to lay him down right here in the corridor: «Okay, let me catch my breath. Easy, Mr. Hardy.» Challenging Tom's gaze playfully with an evil grin, Sasha softly giggled and Tom could swear this was the cutest sound he'd ever heard. She couldn't hide that she loved this dominant side of him and her desire for him was growing up like a fire, but she had planned to torture him a little more to catch him at his own game.

Tom sat on the couch and Sasha offered him something to drink. His gaze was locked on her fully displayed amazing curves, into her perfectly fitted short black dress and his heart melted when he saw her bringing a water bowl to Woody who was already sleeping on the carpet.

«If I show you my tattoos, are you gonna show me yours?»

Tom nodded so she started the tour and showed him first a small Eiffel Tower below the ankle, inside her left heel and on her right one, a little Tower of London. She commented: «Half French, half English.» Then, she lifted her dress to show pink ballet shoes on her left side ribs. She explained to Tom that was to the memory of her mom who was a ballet dancer. Tom looked carefully at each tattoo, trying to focus his attention on anything than her partially nude body in order to keep his self-control. Sasha turned on herself and lifted her dress again to show an old-school-style swallow on her right ribs. She told him this one was about her dead brother.

Tom reminded her that she showed him only four tattoos. She gave him a mischievous gaze and sat next to him: «If you wanna see the last one you would have to undress me, Mr. Hardy.»

«I can't look at ya without wanting to kiss ya!» Tom whispered against her lips after another deep and intense kiss, his hand under her chin, she gazed up at him as he rubbed the curves of her face in slow and soothing circles.

«You were so hot in that movie in which were you a stripper.» Tom teased.

Sasha snorted: «It was a nightmare. I had bruises all over my body due to training on the dancing pole. Looked like someone was beating me.»

Tom smirked: «It paid off! Really convincing.»

«Well, thank you... Wanna private dance?» She winked at him.

Tom slowly nodded with a little grin: «Hell yes!»

Sasha smirked to herself: «Okay, Mr. Hardy. One easy rule: You can look but you can't touch.» Tom nodded again as he wriggled and settled back into the couch.

Her body started to move in time with the rhythm of the music. Her gaze fixed on him, she was teasing him with a grin. Tom felt his heart racing like a cavalry charging. He had never seen anything like this before. So much sex appeal as this, yet she was still truly beautiful. He shook his head and soon started to sweat and to gasp for some air as he saw her sexily removing her dress. Her amazingly toned body was dressed in black, satin lingerie. An exquisitely lacy tailored, balconette bra and thong set. It was stylish, classy, and elegant. She seemed to glow and light up the room, with a charismatic glamour and beauty that was out of this world. Tom was breathless and just clapped his hands folding it on his mouth at the second she took off her dress. The situation in his pants was critical and almost painful when she sat on his lap, her body sexily undulating, she stroked on Tom's chest and frowned: «Are you shaking Tom?»

Tom's eyes went wide but kept silent and he swallowed hard squeezing her thighs.

Sasha frowned worriedly: «Are you okay?»

The question seemed to distract him for a second. His eyes softened and he shook his head in a snort: «Yeah, yeah, I just...» Tom blushed: «I'm just going to embarrass myself in a second if ya don't stop moving like that in my lap.»

Sasha got closer again from him, a grin crossing her face: «So? Tell me what you think. Does it turn you on?» Tom kept silent again, totally amazed by the beauty in front of him and by the little game she's playing. She turned her back to him and put her hands on his thighs to hold herself while her hips sway sensually on his crotch. Sasha chose this moment to finish him: «How about this? Can you feel my wet pussy through your pants, Mr. Hardy? I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad.»

Tom's head was buzzing, his blood pressure increasing, seriously he couldn't help but groan. His eyes were focused on her. Her ass was spectacular, toned and tight: «Damn. That feels great, you're so hot. Your ass is fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing.»

She giggled: «With all the time I'm working out, it'd better be.» Tom was too focused to even smile. It was so hard for him to think about anything other than grabbing her ass with both hands. Such perverse thoughts and yet he felt no stress at all, finally playing her game: «I will kill anyone that looks at you the way I look at you right now.»

Sasha stood up smiling victoriously and eased her panties off before she turned back to face him. Tom opened his wide eyes with a devilish grin. She squatted before him, her delicate hands reaching for his crotch. Tom's heartbeat growing faster as she unzipped his pants and took hold of his hardening cock. «Fuck, I can't believe this is happening.» He whispered, his blood boiling through his veins.

«Just sit back and let me take care of you.» Sasha kept her eyes locked with his. Tom thought those eyes were irresistible as she started to lick from the bottom on his cock, from the base to the tip, very slowly but firmly. When she got to the tip, she flattened her tongue and circled around his head. She took more and more of him in her mouth whilst massaging his balls with her hand. Then, she licked back down to the base and put his balls in her mouth. She went back to sucking his huge dick while Tom tangled his fingers in her silky hair and remembered he couldn't touch her. Every movement of her lips and tongue sent another wave of pleasure through him. She was so gentle and caring. She stopped to breathe for a second and then deep throated him. She didn't stop until her lips were around his base. She could feel him in her throat and his hips thrusting a little. He was grunting, groaning and breathing heavily. Sasha gave him one last long suck all the way down his length before pulling away. She wasted no time in straddling him: «Please Mr. Hardy, I want it so bad. I'm so horny for you right now.» She breathed out on a moan against his lips. Tom squeezed her inner thigh, pulled her upper body so tightly against him that she knew how much he wanted this too. His lips found hers again and she kissed him hard, grinding his fat cock into her warm tight cunt. Tom smirked and nodded, then she slid herself all the way down, enveloping his cock between her legs, finally released to feel his cock inside her.

«Shit, Mr. Hardy, you're so big, it feels so good! » Sasha moaned.

Tom swallowed hard and took a large breath trying to stay cool-headed but with Sasha raising herself just a few inches, enough to let him see her juices covering his cock, it's was just impossible: «Fuck, you're so tight.»

Then neither of them said a thing. They simply locked their gazes and enjoyed that moment of pure pleasure. It was gentle and passionate, lovely and hot.

Sasha picked up the pace as he was doing his best to not touch her. The way she moved her hips was intoxicating. She leaned into him, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead and moaning with a voice strained by the pleasure: «You feel so good Tom.»

It took a moment for him to mumble: «Release your breast for me, beauty.» He kissed her softly on her shoulders and neck. That was certainly a request she could fulfil. Reaching around her back she undid her bra but acted the teased and kept it in place, making Tom beg to see them. Finally, she answered his plea and pulled off her bra, revealing her perfect ample breasts, and a rosary tattoo underlining her left boob. Tom's mind was blown away and he took a chance to feel her such wonderful curves when suddenly, this all became too much for him. It was such a turn-on to see his dream girl enjoying so much to fuck herself on his cock, her hard nipples tracing up and down against his skin chest. It was too much for him to stay still. He needed control. So, he jumped off the couch, still inside her, holding her very cautiously. Her arms tightly wrapped around his neck and her legs around his hips. Tom sighed at her: « Alrigh', you win but I'm not playin' anymore. You want me to fuck you? »

Sasha nodded, bit her lower lip and chuckled: «Yes, please!»

Tom groaned and brought her up to the bedroom while she kissed his neck frantically, all moaning and chuckling, as she continued to roll her hips to feel him deeper inside. Tom suddenly slipped out which made her gasp and laid her down on the bed with caution. He took a moment to look at her, «You're a fucking masterpiece.» He couldn't believe how perfect she was. His hands moved slowly along her sides, down her chest and her stomach to between her thighs, her skin felt like silk under his hands. The way he tightened and loosened his grip made her shuddered and more excited. Sasha bit her lips watching Tom's gaze moving all over her body. She reached up to kiss him, it was short and wild. then He slowly bent her over the bed again and grabbed her ass tight, squeezed and groaned. Then, he traced his fingers underneath her to feel how wet she was and she can't help but moan. He roughly removes his clothes and she lifted to help, they were standing so close they could feel their body heat making them sweat.

«Wow, Mr. Hardy! You're... impressive!» Her eyes shone like the stars and her mouth began to water as she stared at his incredible muscular and tattooed body. She was in awe of him.

Tom groaned with a grin and suddenly flipped her back on the mattress as he smirked at her urge. She could feel his hard dick between her thighs as he bent down against her, his hands running all over her body as she begged for him to fuck her. So, he started to tease her, sliding his cock tip against her clit and back again, kissing her neck. Tom went down on her, he spread her legs apart and put two fingers in her really slowly as deep as he could so she moaned loudly as he felt her pussy dripping. He started to eat her pussy, sucking gently whilst his tongue flicked against her clit. His beard scratched deliciously against her skin as his face rested between her thighs, he mumbled: «You taste like heaven, but God knows you're built for sin.» He was even more turned on and used both of his hands to grip her thighs harder. Sasha arched back, her hands sensually running up her own body to finally stroked her hair. She was moaning and giggling. Tom couldn't look away from her, amazed and thrilled: «You're so fucking beautiful all naked and sweaty.»

Sasha's body was oscillating, her shapes magnetically wiggling. She was getting so much pleasure, feeling things she'd never felt before. It simply felt incredible, that she couldn't help but laughed. And That made Tom so harder and making him groaned: «You're so damn hot. I love when you laugh.»

«That's 'cause you make me so happy, Tom.»

He made his way up on her and kissed her hard. She could feel her taste on his lips. Without warning, he grabbed her waist and flipped her on her stomach. Which made her gasped again in surprise. Now, he was in the position of power and Sasha obviously liked it, begging for it: «Please Tom! Fuck me. You want to make me scream, huh? I'll bet you can...OHHH!» The shock gave her such a high, the sudden action of him shoving his cock into her pussy. She straightened, her back against his chest, sliding her hands behind his head, and gently stroked his hair as his beard tickled into her neck. The sight of her flexible body, his point of view on her arched back curved, pearls of sweat trickled down to her ass, drove him crazy. His hands were running all over her body like an octopus. Sasha whimpered: «Give it to me, Mr. Hardy! Please.»

Tom was more than happy to comply, her choked voice sent shivers down his spine. Going in and out of her was a level of pleasure he never even imagined he'd achieved. He was so aware of every single movement he made, even the tiniest detail was tremendous and he just wanted more. Thrusting deeper, faster and rougher. Clutching her even stronger against him, his arms over her chest and breast. The sound of her skin slapping against his lower stomach forced him to tighten his grip on her hips: «Fuck, I'm gonna cum, please baby girl cum for me too.»

«YES! Please, Tom... don't stop. »

He slid two fingers into her mouth that she licked with a sultry look turning her face to him. Tom grunted and started to rub hard her clit in harsh circles. It was a whiny mess and he felt like he was going to lose his mind.

«Damn! TOM! It's so fucking good, you're so fucking good!» She arched her back more than possible, increasing her body counterweight against his: «Ohh fuck yeah, Tom, TOM.»

All it took were those words and a few more crazy hip bounces until a moaning mess screamed out of each other's names. Tom didn't even need a moment to think: «That was the best fuck I've ever had.» He laid down on his side facing Sasha, their bodies tangled, she smiled at him slowly coming back: «It was incredible, Mr. Hardy.»

«You're the most amazing creature I've ever seen.» They both smirked and he tenderly kissed her nose: «And I love your secret tattoo.» He traced with his fingers along the string of pearls tattoo under her breast giving her goosebumps. Sasha closed her eyes totally relaxed and contented as he stared at her in total bliss and kissed her forehead. «May I stay for the night, divine creature?»

«You may but... you're on my side of the bed.» She said keeping her eyes closed.

Tom shook his head and smiled: «No. This is my side now.»

Sasha opened one eye: «'Cause it's the closest side from the door?»

«Yes and that goes for each bed we shall share.» Tom answered with his low and husky voice as she gave him a broad smile: «Does this mean we're into a relationship?»

Tom shyly nodded: «Unless you don't want to?»

She propped herself on one arm and looked at him cautiously as he rolled a little bit onto his back. She stared at him like she was memorizing every detail of his face. She softly smiled, giving him a kiss before she whispered: «You had the lead role at the first sigh, Mr. Hardy.» Tom snorted and showered her head, which was resting now into his neck, with kisses before they finally fell asleep while cuddling, their bodies still tangled together.

__________________________________________________________

Sasha's head was resting on Tom's chest but she suddenly jumped in the bed when she realized there was a loud pounding on the door and that someone was yelling her name while Woody was barking. Tom groaned as she looked for her phone to check the time.

«Shit! Tom! Wake up it's 9:30 p.m., I'm soooo fuckin late!» Sasha said and ran naked to the bathroom. «Please, go down and tell them I'm almost ready.» She asked before she turned the shower on.

Tom finally reached the door and opened. Paul was facing him with a fake surprised look and quickly checked he'd knocked at the right door before he started to laugh: «That shade of lipstick is all wrong for you bro. Sasha's here? They're waiting for her on set for make-up.»

«Yeah, she's taking a shower.» Tom answered rubbing his lips.

Paul grinned and pointed his finger at him: «Promise me to tell me all 'bout it.»

Tom shook his head with a cheeky smile.

«Hurry lovebirds!» Joe yelled as he left.

__________________________________________________________

When Sasha finally turned up for makeup, she sat down next to Helen McCrory and sighed.

«You're glowing today sweetie.» The make-up artist thought out loud.

«Tom Hardy's effect.» Helen commented giving a broad smile to Sasha through the mirror and winked.

Sasha looked offended for two seconds before she snorted: «Paul is such a gossip! I'm going to kill him!»

16 notes · View notes

atlasfms · 6 years

Text

um Hello , i love u guys , & i’m so excited for this re - vamp & getting to write with u all again ❤️ for u lovely new members , i’m lina & my schedule is a Mess rn so i’ll be in & out on my days off until it hopefully straightens out again , & this is my babe atlas ! for y’all who already know him , he’s a little more messy & trashy than before soooo it’s gonna be fun ! if anyone would like 2 plot pls press that lil heart or hit up my im’s !

a NEELS VISSER lookalike was strolling down broadway street in their air jordan 1’s. atlas deniro just had a birthday bash for his twenty-second birthday. he has been living in new york city for twenty years. i hear he tends to be heedless at parties, but also kind of beguiling. ( cismale & he/him )

TRIGGERS ; DRUG OVERDOSE , DEATH & CANCER .

━━━ › BASICS \

NAME ; atlas ( to carry ) nathaniel ( gift of god ) arthur ( noble ; courageous ) deniro ( notably people with dark or black hair ) .

NICKNAMES ; ace , atty , pain in the ass .

AGE ; twenty - two .

BIRTHDAY ; december third .

ZODIAC ; saggitarius .

GENDER ; male .

PRONOUNS ; he & him .

NATIONALITY ; american .

ETHNICITY ; english , italian .

LABEL(S) ; the jocular , the libertine , the lothario .

OCCUPATION ; model & singer

NETWORTH ; 25 mill ?

PROS ; athletic , challenging , charming , curious , daring , debonair , faithful , forthright , fun - loving , humourous , invulnerable , passionate , perserverant , playful , protective , sociable , spontaneous , witty .

CONS ; abrasive , arrogant , blunt , careless , clumsy , compulsive , conceited , deceitful , destructive , devious , disobedient , egocentric , greedy , ignorant , meddlesome , narcissistic , obnoxious , provocative , reckless , troublesome , unstable , vindictive .

━━━ › HISTORY \

aldo nathaniel arthur deniro was destined for greatness . everyone knew it ; hell , even the biggest ceo’s in new york were shaking in their boots at the thought of what this young man was capable of . he was a dead - ringer for his father , with his light hair & bright blue eyes , he had looks , charms , & a good head on his shoulders . & like his father , he knew what he wanted the family business . but first , he had to go to college . & only ivy league would do for the son of one of the world’s richest ceo’s .

columbia university was highly prestigious , private , & the fifth chartered institution of higher learning in the united states . besides , it’s business school was one of the oldest in the world , so what more could the future owner of the family company want ? in this instance , a girlfriend , but he didn’t know it yet . when nathaniel met scarlett baccouche , daughter of two british politicians , they didn’t exactly get off with the best start they hated each other , in fact . but what was once hate turned into an epic love story & after they graduated , they got married . not long after that , they had their first child .

their daughter was a stunner , like her parents . the news was celebrated all over the world , & when aldo’s father retired the company into his hands , things just seemed to get better . scarlett had a successful acting career , starring in a hit tv show that seemed to be getting more recognised every day . their lovely maid , diane took care of their daughter on the days they could not , & everything was pretty much perfect . they had a huge property near the coast of the hamptons , & at some point they were ready to expand their family . so in early march , tests comfirmed the news scarlett was pregnant with twins. on the third of december 1997 , atlas nathaniel arthur deniro & his twin sister were born , only 5 minutes apart .

everyone celebrated ; the family , friends , even supporters of the notorious family . his hair was fair & there were arguments over whether his eyes were hers or his father’s . but since he was born , the main question was whether he’d follow in his father’s footsteps or his mother’s . would he give the family company a modern twist ? would he be this generation’s brad pitt & be the star of hit blockbusters in upcoming years ? people were excited , but atlas wasn’t . he was nowhere near it .

the deniro household had it’s challenges . they seemed like the perfect family unit , & perhaps they were , but aldo & scarlett had other ideas . they were quite strict in raising their children , teaching them to never slouch , to use your manners , to keep up a perfect reputation . it wasn’t the family name that was at stake , but also their future , because like everyone else in the world expected , they wanted their children to grow up & take over one of their careers , & they groomed them to do just that . atlas hated it .

he hated the daily tutors supplied by his father , lessons in business & the history of the family’s . he despised the acting classes his mother forced him to take , ones which he’d often skip out on but then would get into trouble once his parents found out . he felt trapped ; forced to do things he grew to loathe . to him , it was obvious that he could do neither of the things his parents wanted him to do . so the more they pushed , the more he pulled away . he started to feel less like their son but a puppet whose strings they kept pulling .

what he didn’t hate , though , was the feeling if his fingers on guitar strings , singing in the shower because that was the only place he could sing without his parents complaining about him making a noise . diane would often smile at him after they chastise him & quietly compliment him on his voice , telling him he’d do great things one day . of course , he already knew this . his music teacher told him once that he could sing the birds to silence .

school was enjoyable , as it goes . all deniro children were educated in a private school , & although he was close to his sisters , he made friends easily . he had a charming smile & witt that only few would understand , he was the sort of kid who got along with anyone , but he couldn’t consider any of them to be close friends . so whereas to them he looked happy , he was quite the opposite ; atlas eventually got tired of his parents controlling his life so instead of keeping up his otherwise impeccable reputation , he started to rebel .

he didn’t really do a lot at first . snuck out to a few parties , stayed out later than his curfew allowed him to . did the opposite of everything his parents wanted him to do , be that going to the classes they arranged for him or behave himself in general . he just wanted to live his own life , do what he wanted . he wanted to focus on his music & follow a path that he knew he would enjoy . so he decided he’d do just that , & for a while he felt a little glimpse of what being truly happy felt like .

however in high school , atlas got involved with the wrong crowd . they introduced him to a world he had yet to really experience ; a world full of alcohol , sex , drugs , & general trouble . he knew he shouldn’t have stuck around it , but it was addicting . it was so unlike the restrained life he grew up with , that he jumped right into it & found himself unable to get out of . there was more to it , though . the more he rebelled the more people started to notice him . how structured his jawline was , how illuminated his eyes were under any light .

atlas hadn’t really had an interest in social media before . of course , he had an instagram account that he barely used , & didn’t really start using until someone mentioned he should start modelling . sure , they were joking but atlas actually considered it & started posting pictures of himself . his following plummeted , & in the november of his sophomore year he was scouted a modeling agency & became one of vogue’s most promising talents .

his career exploded from then on , & so did his popularity . he met people he would never have had the chance to meet otherwise , more specifically someone called jason . the pair quickly became good friends , they went to the same school so it was convenient . jason acted as a good influence on atlas but atlas acted like a bad influence on him , dragging him into the world he found himself stuck in which is when things started going downhill . jason grew a little too accustomed to narcotics , but at first atlas didn’t notice . he wasn’t really one to talk , anyway .

one night the boys headed to los angeles to celebrate their upcoming graduation , & before going for a night out they decided to have pre - drinks in their hotel room & started popping pills . atlas didn’t really see how many jason took , but before he could warn him it was already too late . everything else from that night was a blur of blue flashing lights & a lot of strangers shouting out medical terms he didn’t understand . the only thing he really remembered from that night were the words ‘ he’s dead ’ . & an overwhelming feeling that it was his fault .

the tragedy of jason’s death left atlas in a state of seclusion . he spent three solid months alone in his room , blaming himself for what happened , but he didn’t stop the drugs . if anything , he used them as an escapism , & when his parents gave him an ultimatum : rehab or college , he chose the latter . he enrolled in columbia & took up the same business course his father did . for the first month , he was bitter , cold to everyone , would barely talk if he could help it .

but some of his old school friends went to the same college as him , & atlas started to feel more like himself again ( or a version of himself that felt similar to what he was before ) & tried to forget jason & everything that happened . his parents has covered up the death so atlas wasn’t related to it , a cleverly articulated plan to keep it out of the papers . but that didn’t stop the questions , which atlas would quickly divert in order to forget . he had to forget .

he didn’t . jason was his friend , & one of the few people who truly understood him . jason always believed in atlas’s music , so it only felt right that he returned to him . if not for himself , then for the memory of his late friend . so he dropped out of college , found himself a management & started writing songs , composing music . at first it was difficult ; every time he sang a song or played a tune , he’d remember jason . but after time he eased into it , dropped out of college , & has been working on his first album ever since .

atlas became an all together different person . he became manipulative , deceitful , partying every night to erase the memory of that night like it would somehow go away , but it didn’t . every time he’d close his eyes , he’d see his lifeless friend , so he’d stop closing them . he’d spend nights in a stranger’s bed , only to leave in the middle of the night . he’d drink away the pain & swallow down the guilt that was threatening to swallow him alive .

what atlas doesn’t know , though , is a secret his parents are keeping from him . in early january this year , his father was diagnosed with localised prostate . after the loss of jason , atlas became distant from his parents & they didn’t want to burden him with the news due to him only just getting back to his normal self after the trauma of losing his best friend .

━━━ › PERSONALITY \

outwardly , atlas appears to be quite content . he can start a conversation with anyone , act like he’s interested but then three minutes later he’ll get bored & move onto the next thing that interests him . he likes staying busy & preoccupied , thinking that if he keeps his mind busy , he won’t think about the past . it’s for that reason that it’s hard to tell what he’s actually thinking , unless you know him really well or are good at reading people .

he can be very cynical , a trait that he’s carried since he was young but he was better at hiding it then , now he really does not care . at first it mattered to him what people thought , now he couldn’t care less . he does what he wants when he wants , often not thinking about the consequences of his actions & then dealing with them later . it’s for this reason that he can be quite manipulative , using his charms to get what he wants ( or who he wants ) to serve as a distraction .

he can be quite brutal abiut his opinions , learning a long time ago that holding your tongue won’t benefit you at all so he basically just says what he wants . but , he doesn’t really answer questions directly , especially if they’re personal . he’ll more likely change the subject or divert the question to someone else & act like he was the one who asked the question in the first place .

atlas is very reckless & will literally do anything for a good time , be that getting so drunk his face hits the floor , or so high he forgets his own name , or to even cliff diving so he can get some form a thrill . if someone tells him he can’t do something , he’ll go out of his way to prove them wrong . he’s incredibly stubborn & has a tendency to let people’s words go through one ear & out of the other .

━━━ › FUN FACTS \

he’s honestly such a lil shit tbh ?? idk how else to describe him

he’s a vegetarian & has been since he was eight bc he watched this documentary once & was Distraught

his vc is bazzi bc if u don’t know how much i lov him r we even friends

he has a dog called bloomer & he’s his literal son , like his actual child

he still lives in his huge ass penthouse so if anyone wants 2 be his roommate that’s a plot for u

atlas is literally ?? such a fuckboy ?? but he denies it & says he’s just charming , when rly he’s a lil bitch

a dramatic hoe who lives for drama but is 100% the sort who will run away if it gets too much bc he’s a mess

when he’s dedicated to something , be it a subject or a relationship , he’s completely faithful which is v surprising

adores his fans & will actually do anything for them , has been known to punch out a security guard or two so he can get to them

fun fact once he got arrested for racing on private property

another fun fact is he loves cars so pls do not touch his bbies thank u

he might seem all fine & dandy but he’s on the verge of a mental breakdown but won’t admit it

gets drunk , high , & hooks up with strangers on the regular

he’s fluent in italian & has a HUGE italian family

atlas can come across as being ignorant & self - absorbed , but he’s actually really observant & notices everything

is 100% the sort of ‘ fall in love with the moment & think you’re in love with the girl ’ type of guy but it lasts for like 2 seconds bc he’s fickle

speaking of fickle , he’s had many relationships that haven’t lasted that long bc he can’t decide what he wants from one minute to the next

#wealthyhq:intro #drug overdose tw #drugs tw #death tw #cancer tw #ughugh idk if this makes any sense #so imm sry if there’s any typos shfjb

31 notes · View notes

danielxrk · 6 years

Photo

✞ MGA SEASON 4 AUDITION - COMPREHENSIVE SOLO

⊰ main skill - singing: our god is greater (:17-1:11) special skill: guitar (and english, unfeatured) improvised skill: rapping the first verse of super bass by nicki minaj (also unfeatured, sadly)

it all started with park jihoon. go on the mgas, he said. it’ll be fun, he said, daniel’s internal monologue repeats, not for the first time in the past week, while he and sungwoon wait for to be called for...honestly, daniel already forgets. he just followed sungwoon into the building like a lost puppy, and handed in his form after sungwoon, ignoring the sheer fear the very act struck into his heart, once again, following sungwoon’s lead. he was too busy preemptively preparing himself to explain this to his parents if they ever saw him on tv to really hear what he’s waiting for now.

in jihoon’s defense, all he did was mention the mgas to daniel and explain them to him, and whine about not being able to go himself because he was too busy with work, and try to goad daniel into going in his place. daniel tried to convince jihoon that he had no talent, but jihoon has a way of being persistent, and before daniel knew, he was bringing the mgas up in the next empty enigma band meeting.

cue a messy discussion where daniel tried to convince sungwoon to audition, sungwoon tried to convince daniel to audition, daniel may or may not have insinuated or straight up said that nobody cares about bassists and drummers, thus ushering in the next generation of park woojin’s brooding rage, and there they had it-- daniel and sungwoon both auditioning, and the rest of the band remaining in their life of anonymity.

daniel’s really just here to support sungwoon. judging by the criteria for “main skills” daniel could list on the application, the judges here aren’t interested in bassists, drummers, or guitarists, but they should be interested in a stellar main vocalist of any kind, and as far as daniel’s concerned, sungwoon is just that. he got sungwoon here to the audition, so really, daniel’s work here is done.

all that’s left is to survive the rest of the day.

he looks around the room and observes, guitar daniel usually keeps hidden under his bed in its case beside him, and eventually figures out what they’re waiting for: measurements. oh yeah, he does remember the lady at the front desk saying something about that. he thinks it’s a little weird to take height and weight measurements at all on what’s supposed to be a talent show, let alone before the actually auditions, but daniel doesn’t know much about how any of this works at all, so he won’t play critic. besides, he isn’t ready to sing yet anyway; he needs more time to prepare himself for that inevitable embarrassment.

when sungwoon nudges him, daniel turns to him, eyebrow raised. “did you not eat breakfast?” daniel asks in dismay. the lady at the front desk talked for a while about the audition day, so daniel isn’t sure when they’ll get a break. it only gets worse when sungwoon mentions woojin, and daniel’s expression falters, but he puts on a smile quickly. “i mean! i don’t know, but it’s hard to imagine he’d say no to free food! and if he does i’ll just eat twice as much. as long as you’re paying.”

there’s a small amount of panic that settles into his chest when the staff call sungwoon’s name and he’s left alone, and daniel calms himself down by reminding himself 1. how pathetic it is to be twice as nervous without sungwoon’s company and 2. how little he actually cares about his own success in this. his leg still bounces regardless.

(surviving the rest of the day is made much harder when he runs into haknyeon, thus shattering the illusion he built for himself of not seeing anyone he knew here, and no one he knew outside of the band ever knowing he was here. he even goes as far as taking his nametag off, and nearly fakes being sick just so he can go home. by the time it’s his turn for measurements, he can’t stop shaking.)

it only gets worse when it comes to the singing practice room, where he’s lost sight of sungwoon in a sea of hopefuls inevitably leagues better at singing than he is. now, he clutches his guitar case like a lifeline, though to his dismay, they aren’t allowing performances with an instrument. he can only sing. all of daniel’s prospective performances were with a guitar accompaniment, and that was about the only thing he thought he had going for him that some people might now. the panic sets in again, and he curses himself for not calling to ask for questions and clarification before the audition to save himself from some humiliation.

he doesn’t even pay attention to most of the performances, too stuck in his own head, trying to come up with a new last minute plan to save himself (and sungwoon) from absolute humiliation on this day. surely he can do this; he’s spent months now coming up with lies on the spot to protect the anonymity of empty enigma and disguise his involvement from everyone he knows, so far as manufacturing an entire fake twin brother. coming up with something to sing was like, easy mode, by that standard. he could just sing what he practiced without guitar, but it’s not the same. oh god. oh no.

so daniel does what he usually fails to of his own volition: he prays to god above to save his hopeless soul in this moment of impossible tribulation. god, i have no idea what to sing, everything is ruined, there are so many people here, oh god, i want to go home. please save me. please make a fire alarm go off or something right after sungwoon sings so i can get out of here. please help.

he finishes his desperate prayer just in time for sungwoon to get called, and daniel forces himself to pay more attention even though he hears sungwoon’s voice at least once a week. then again, technically, he hears squall sing once a week, and this is different, as proven by sungwoon’s song choice. it’s over too quickly, and they call daniel next, and he lets out a huff of breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

sungwoon is a tough act to follow. luckily, he’s used to that much by now, just not used to singing after him. no fire alarm goes off-- countless expectant eyes on daniel. daniel! cameo can’t save him now.

the only song that comes to mind is one seared into his brain from church week after week-- one his mom particularly likes and plays around the house even now that they moved back to korea, and daniel doesn’t think he’s going to get much better than that, so he sings.

water you turned into wine opened the eyes of the blind there's no one like you none like you into the darkness you shine out of the ashes we rise there`s no one like you none like you our god is greater, our god is stronger god you are higher than any other our god is healer, awesome in power our god, our god

once he gets through the first two lines, where his voice shakes, it gets easier-- like the same under-his-breath singing he does in church worship every sunday, just louder, and he takes comfort in the familiar words and melody in such an unfamiliar situation.

(the words still don’t mean much to him-- not much more than what he’s supposed to say, and what he knows to be true, but that has yet to reach and transform his heart like he’s heard god is capable of.)

when he finishes, he clasps his hands together in front of him and bows, silently, and another name is called after his, and he can breathe a sigh of relief, at least temporarily.

when he sits down for the interview, daniel wrestles with whether to channel any of cameo or not. on one end, when daniel is cameo, he’s far more charming and equipped for everything surrounding showbusiness. on the other end, daniel doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing this and making the connection between the two. (he always thought interviews as empty engima were a bad idea. god.)

still, when the interviewer sits down across from him, daniel flashes a smile.

“so, why do you want to be an idol, daniel-ssi?”

“ah,” daniel begins, and he laughs right away. “i-- i’m really just here for support. ha sungwoon-ssi-- i don’t know if you interviewed him yet or not, but he’s my friend, and i think he’s really talented, but he wasn’t going to go by himself, so i’m here as a hostage to ensure he does what he needs to here,” and he smiles, trying to milk the charm-- making sure it passes off as the joke it’s meant to be, even if he means it a little more than he wants to.

“you listed him as one of your musical influences as well. how did you two meet?”

“he-- kind of got me into music, actually. i’ve only been living in seoul for about three years, and i work at a coffee shop, and he drinks a lot of coffee. he would talk about the band, kind of advertise them everywhere he went, and we became friends that way, and eventually i went to a show to humor him. he’s friends with a lot of guys that are into music, and they taught me how to play guitar, actually! i think he’s-- really great. he works really hard, and he really deserves more attention for his talent than he’s gotten. i’m really grateful to him for opening me up to the possibility of music more too, because it’s-- i’d be lying if i said music wasn’t important to me. i feel kind of...like the best version of myself when i’m playing bass or guitar, and i wouldn’t have known that version of me even existed without sungwoon.”

“so you do have interest in music after all?”

“ah, yeah, i guess so,” daniel admits with a laugh, and scratches at the back of his neck. “it’s just that-- my parents don’t know, and i want to focus on school and building a successful career for myself so i can pay them back for raising me well. i want to make them proud, and i don’t think...this is necessarily what they had in mind for their son.” his expression is wistful, then shifts to something more playful when he says, “they don’t know i’m here, actually. think you could keep it a secret? between you and me?”

(that one will come back to haunt him later, probably. go to hell, cameo.)

"you mentioned your bass and guitar, and you’ve been carrying that around with you for a while,” the interviewer points out, motioning to his guitar case, and daniel beams. “why don’t you play something for us.”

“oh yeah! i’d love to.” finally.

#rkmga4audition1 #rkhoon #rkxsungwoon #haknyeonrk #woojinrk #( we out here again last minute woohoo #i'm sad i didn't get to write more tbh #lesson learned for the future i will give myself more than two hours to write this #honestly him rapping super bass went the same as the first skill #he didn't have a second skill prepared so he rapped what came into mind #probably more like a poetry reading SDFSDG #also thinking they didn't even offer for him to play bass which he's fine with )#rkmga4 #;solo

6 notes · View notes

virgils-hoodie · 7 years

Text

Music of Our Lives - Chapter 1

Okay, Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to go on an adventure together!! This is my first Long story, and I plan to update as often as I can, so we will see how this turns out for everyone involved. Enjoy!

First Day of High School… Wonder how I’m gonna screw this up.

Virgil approached the High School, nervous for what lay ahead of him. His parents promised him that they wouldn’t move again until after he had graduated, but he doubted that, prepared to leave in a couple months.As he made his way down the hall, Virgil checked his schedule.

1A-Concert Band S146 Jason Mabrey 2A-Biology E202 Frank Nosal 3A-CP English 9 W374 Jessica Fisher 4A-Intro to High School W260 Mike Preskorn 1B-World History/World Geography W355 Hollie King 2B-Latin 1 W285 Julie Marshall 3B-Algebra 1 E120 Eric Haupert 4B-Intro to Photography E158 Karen Slusher

Virgil groaned upon remembering what his first class was. Earlier in the summer, his parents told him that they were going to have him take a performance elective, and they had him pick out an instrument, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy band class. They had also decided that they wanted him to be in the band so badly that they would buy him whatever instrument he wanted, as long as he learned it over the summer.

So, naturally, Virgil decided on the least conspicuous instrument he could. One he could easily toss in his backpack and not worry about. He chose the piccolo. What he hadn’t thought of, however, was the high range of the small instrument. And the fact that he may be the only guy playing it. And the fact that he would most likely get a lot of solos.

As Virgil made his way to the band room, located in the basement of the school, he was worried about what he might find down those stairs. He pushed away the concerns as he took his first step into the band room.

The first thing he noticed was the chaos of all the students in that class warming up at the same time. He made his way to a seat near the flute section, after not seeing any other piccolos. This did not look good for him.

The second thing he noticed was the overall age of these students. Most looked like Freshman, but there were a few here and there that stood out as upperclassmen. One such upperclassman was currently taking charge of the clarinet section, getting them all in order and seated neatly. Another was talking to the Alto Saxes, giving them instructions about something Virgil couldn’t quite hear.

As the director made his way up to his small podium in the front of the room, Virgil quickly set up his piccolo and waited as the room quieted down. The Band director spoke with authority as he addressed the band.

“Good Morning Concert Band! For most of you, welcome to your Freshman year. First things First, I would like to introduce some people to all of you. These are the people to talk to if you need help, unless it’s serious, in which case, bring it to me. To begin, we have our Flute and Piccolo section leader, Danielle Stella, then we have our clarinet section leader, Logan Prince, and our alto sax section leader, Patton Hood, Low Reeds, Kimberly Hood, Trumpets, Damon Bernal, Trombones and Baritones, Maddie Smith, Tubas, Cody Blanchette, and Percussion, Nicole Brady.”

Virgil sighed lightly, leaning back in his chair and watching as each one waved at the class.

“Now, I want to see just what kind of instrumentation we have today. We are going to go in Score order. I want everyone to say their name, grade, and favorite song. We’ll start with Piccolos.”

Virgil sat up abruptly and stared wide-eyed as he said that. The director turned towards the flute section.

“Do we have any piccolo players?”

As the girl next to him pointed at Virgil, he panicked. What was he supposed to say? What if his voice cracked? What would everyone think of him? What- His thoughts were cut off when the girl next to him gently nudged his arm, smiling encouragingly. He took a deep breath and spoke just loud enough to be heard in the room as everyone went silent.

“My name is Virgil Sanders… I am a Freshman, and my favorite song is “I’m not Okay. (I Promise)” By My Chemical Romance.” He glanced around the room as everyone stared at him until Danielle spoke up as first for the flute section.

As he leaned back in his seat again, he watched the others around the room for a bit before moving to read a book on his music stand. It wasn’t until the voice of one person in the back cut through his thoughts that he looked up to see who it was.

“I Am Roman Prince. I Am Currently In My Freshman Year Of High School, And My Favorite Piece Of Music Is “All I Do Is Win”, By DJ Khaled.” Virgil scoffed slightly, figuring only the girl beside him could hear, but he could have sworn he saw Prince throw a pointed glare at him.

By the end of the class, Virgil was exhausted without even playing anything. This was largely due to the discovery that any freshmen in Band are required to join the marching band. Which started the next day. He made his way towards the door as everyone was packing up when Danielle ran over to him. “Virgil! I know you’re new to the area, so I was wondering if we could trade phone numbers... I-In case you have any questions, of course. And also to make sure you know when the marching band events are.” Virgil looked over at her, then nodded reluctantly, quickly scrawling down his phone number on a piece of paper.

“Just know that if I don’t know who it is, I block the number, so say your name when you text me. Also, don’t share that with anyone. I don’t want to be in any group chats, or be sent any chainmail texts, Okay?”

She nodded quickly, then walked off, leaving him alone to wait for the bell to ring, until... “Virgil?” He looked up, only to see that Roman was making his way towards him. “It is Virgil, right? I was wanting to talk to you. I saw your family moving in up the street from me at the end of last school year.”

“So?” Virgil replied, getting annoyed.

“Well if you let me finish, J.Delightful, I was getting to that. I was wondering if you needed any help finding your classes.”

Why would he want to help me?

Virgil shook his head. “No Thanks, Princey. I think I’ll find my way just fine.” As the bell rang, he quickly left the band room, eager to get away from the crowd of musicians.

As the day went on, Virgil slowly became more and more annoyed with everything and everyone, eventually reaching his breaking point when he walked into his last class for the day, Intro to High School and saw Him. Virgil quickly sat as far away as possible from the flamboyant fantasist, then pulled his phone out to avoid being noticed by him.

By the end of the day, Virgil was ready to leave, heading straight for the busses until he felt a hand on his shoulder, making him turn around and slap off the hand, looking at who was behind him. “Apologies, Virgil.”

Virgil sighed. “What do you want, Princey?”

“Well, I saw you heading for the bus, and I was wondering if you’d like a ride home. I already cleared it with Logan, so he’s okay with taking you home. I know that the bus is very crowded, so I figured you would prefer to ride in a car and go straight home.”

He looked up at Roman, debating. He knew Roman was right. He despised the bus, but he also wasn’t sure why Roman would be offering to help him. Curiosity got the better of him and he nodded.

“That would be great, thank you.”

Roman smiled. “Awesome! Follow me.” As he walked off, Virgil stayed beside him, keeping pace with his long legs.

“Roman?”

Roman looked over, surprised. “Yeah, Virgil?”

“Why are you so determined to be nice to me? I understand being polite, but this is above and beyond... So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, What gives?”

“I want to help you because I used to be you. Back in 7th grade, my family had just moved here. They agreed that we wouldn’t move again until Logan had finished High School. He’s only got this year and next year left. I’m hoping they decide to let me finish as well, but Logan is their prize child. He gets the good grades and the Academic Honors. I’m just a Band and Theater kid, average at best. I could do theater and band anywhere. It’s harder to transfer academic success…”

Virgil watched as Roman’s face fell, and his façade faltered.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up... I was just curious... Most people usually don’t want to help me. I was just wondering if this was genuine, or-”

“-Another Trick.”

Roman smiled over at Virgil, who sheepishly grinned in return, happy to have found someone who understood him.

AN: Wow, this was a beast to tackle. Starting a story is always the most interesting part for me. Anyways, I will be taking Holiday AU/Prompts for the remainder of December, and I will write some of my own until I get suggestions. Let me know if there is something you want to see!

Tags: @sassy-and-messy @tinysidestrashcaptain (Let me know if you want to be added to any Tag lists for my work!)

#sanders sides

108 notes · View notes