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letterboxd · 3 years

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Life Detained.

The Mauritanian director Kevin Macdonald talks with Jack Moulton about researching Guantanamo Bay’s top secrets, Tahar Rahim’s method-acting techniques, the ingenuity of humanity during the pandemic, and his favorite Scottish films.

“You’ve got to understand that for a Muslim man like Tahar, this role has a much greater significance than it does for you or me.” —Kevin Macdonald

It’s not uncommon for a director to release two films in one year, but Academy-Award winning—for his 1999 documentary One Day in September—director Kevin Macdonald is guilty of this achievement multiple times. Ten years ago, he released his first crowd-sourced documentary Life in a Day and the period epic The Eagle within months of each other. A decade on, he’s done it again.

The Scottish director (and grandson of legendary filmmaker Emeric Pressburger) released both his Life in a Day follow-up and the legal drama The Mauritanian this month. The latter tells the story of Guantanamo Bay detainee Mohamedou Ould Slahi (sometimes written as Salahi), who was held and tortured in the notorious US detention center for fourteen years without a charge. The film, adapted from Slahi’s 2015 memoir Guantánamo Diary, features Jodie Foster and Shailene Woodley as his defense attorneys Nancy Hollander and Teri Duncan, with Benedict Cumberbatch, who also signed on as the film’s producer, playing prosecutor Lt. Stuart Couch.

Benedict Cumberbatch as prosecutor Lt. Stuart Couch in ‘The Mauritanian’.

The Mauritanian also introduces French star Tahar Rahim to a global audience, in the role of Slahi. “The ensemble is excellent across the board,” writes Zach Gilbert, “while Tahar Rahim is best in show overall, bringing honorable heart and humanity to his role [of] the titular mistreated prisoner.”

Much of the story is filmed as an office-based legal thriller involving thick files, intense conversations, and Jodie Foster’s very bright lipstick. Macdonald expertly employs aspect ratio to signify narrative shifts into scenes recreating Slahi’s vivid recollections of torture and his achingly brief conversations with unseen fellow detainees.

Qualifying for this year’s awards season due to extended deadlines, The Mauritanian has already earned Golden Globe nominations for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actress for Rahim and Foster respectively. Slahi remains unable to travel due to no-fly lists, but he was a valuable resource to the production, providing an accurate and rare depiction of a sympathetic Muslim character in an American film.

It was the eve of Life in a Day 2020’s Sundance Film Festival premiere when we Zoomed with Macdonald. Behind him, we spied a full set of the Italian posters for Michelangelo Antonioni’s classic Blow-Up. As it turns out, he’s not a fan of the film—only the posters—so we got him talking about his desert-island top ten after a few questions about his new film.

The attention to detail on Guantanamo Bay in The Mauritanian is impressive. There are procedures depicted that you rarely see on-screen. How did you conduct your research? Obviously Guantanamo Bay is a place which the American government spends a great deal of effort keeping secret. It was important to Mohamedou and me that we depicted the reality of the procedures as accurately as we possibly could. That research came primarily from Mohamedou who has an incredible memory. He drew sketches and made videos of himself lying down in spaces and showing how he could stretch half his arm out [in his cell]. There are a lot of photographs on the internet of Guantanamo Bay which are [fake] and others are from a later period because the place developed a lot over the years since it started in 2002 and Mohamedou was able to [identify] which photos were rooms, courtyards and medical centers he had been in.

Director Kevin Macdonald on set with Jodie Foster.

How did you approach creating an honest representation of the graphic torture scenes, without putting the audience through it as well? Whenever films about this period are [made] they’re always from the point of view of the Americans and this time we’re with Mohamedou. You can’t underestimate the fact that there have really been no mainstream American cinematic portrayals of Muslims at all, so in portraying a sympathetic Muslim character who’s also accused of terrorism, you’re pushing some hot buttons with people. It was important that those people who are uncomfortable with him understand why he confessed to what he confessed.

Everything you see in the film is what happened; the only difference is that they weren’t wearing masks of cats and Shrek-like creatures, they wore Star Wars masks of Yoda and Luke Skywalker in this very perverse fucked-up version of American pop culture. Obviously, we couldn’t get the rights to those. Actually, I don’t feel that it is graphic. There is more violence in your average Marvel movie. It’s psychologically disturbing because you’re experiencing this disorientating lighting, the [heavy-metal] music, and he’s being told his mother’s going to be raped and he’s flashing back to his childhood. To be empathizing with this character and then to see them to be so cruelly treated is so deeply disturbing.

How did you prepare Tahar Rahim for his convincing portrayal of such intense pain and suffering? Tahar went through a great deal of discomfort in order to achieve it. He felt that to give a performance that had any chance of being truthful, he needed to experience a little bit of what Mohamedou had suffered, so throughout the movie he would insist on wearing real shackles which made his leg bleed and give him blisters. I would plead with him to put on rubber ones and he would say “no, I have to do this so I’m not just play-acting”.

He starved himself for about three weeks leading up to a torture sequence—he had lost an awful amount of weight and he was really unsteady on his legs. I was very worried about it and I got him nutritionists and doctors but he was determined to stick with that. You’ve got to understand that for a Muslim man like Tahar, this role has a much greater significance than it does for you or me. He felt a great weight of responsibility to do this correctly, not just for Mohamedou, but he was speaking for the whole Muslim world in a way.

Jodie Foster and Shailene Woodley as defense attorneys in ‘The Mauritanian’.

What compels you to study this period in time? Mohamedou was released a couple of weeks before Trump came to power in 2016, so the story is still ongoing for him. He’s still being harassed by the American government and he’s not allowed to travel because he’s on these no-fly lists. I didn’t want to make a movie that was saying “George W. Bush is terrible”. We’ve been there, we’ve done that. This is looking back with a little bit of distance and saying “here’s the principles that we can learn from when you sidestep the rule of law”—what it takes to stand up like Lt. Stuart Couch did when everyone else around you is going along with something that’s really terrible.

You see that around Trump with the choices within the Republican Party to stand up and say they’re going to sacrifice their careers to do the right thing. It is a hard thing when there’s this mass hysteria in the air. The basic principles that the lawyer [characters] are representing is not about analyzing and replaying what happened after 9/11, they’re directly related in a bigger way to the world we all inhabit.

Did anything surprise you in how your subjects for Life in a Day 2020 addressed the pandemic? One of the most affecting characters in the film is an American who lost his home and business because of the pandemic, so he’s living in his car. He seems very depressed when you meet him for the first time, then later he’s telling us there’s something that’s giving him joy in his life. He brings out all these drones with these cameras on them and puts on this VR headset and loses himself by flying through the trees. I thought that was such a great metaphor for the way that human ingenuity has enabled us to survive and thrive during the pandemic.

I get the feeling of resilience from [the film]. This is a more thoughtful film than the original one. I see this as a movie of [us] being beware of our susceptibility to disease and ultimately to death and mortality, [and] how we’ve found these consolations as human beings. To me, it’s a really profound thing. It also speaks to the main theme of the film which is how we’re all so similar, same as The Mauritanian. It’s confronting you with all these people and saying we fundamentally all share the basic things that underpin our lives and the differences between us are much less important than the things we have in common.

Let’s go from Life in a Day to your life in film. What’s a Scottish film that you love but you feel is very overlooked or underrated? That’s really hard because there aren’t many Scottish films and there aren’t many good ones. Gregory’s Girl is the greatest Scottish film ever made—it’s the bible for life for me. That’s very well-known, so I would have to say Bill Forsyth’s previous film That Sinking Feeling, which was self-funded and made on 16mm black-and-white. It has some of the same actors and characters as Gregory’s Girl in it. Or my grandfather Emeric Pressberger’s film I Know Where I’m Going! which is a rare romantic comedy set in Scotland.

John Gordon Sinclair and Dee Hepburn in Bill Forsyth’s ‘Gregory’s Girl’ (1980).

Which film made you want to become a filmmaker? I think it was Errol Morris’s The Thin Blue Line, which is one of the top five documentaries ever made and in my top ten desert-island movies.

What else is in your desert-island top ten? Oh god, don’t! I knew you were going to ask me that. I’ll give a few. I would say there would have to be something by Preston Sturges—maybe The Lady Eve or The Palm Beach Story. There would have to be a film written by my grandfather, so probably The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, which is the best British film ever made. There would have to be Singin’ in the Rain, which is the most purely joyful film I’ve ever seen. There would probably be The Battle of Algiers, which I rewatched recently and was an inspiration on The Mauritanian. Citizen Kane I also rewatched in anticipation of watching Mank, of which I was very disappointed. I thought it completely missed the point and was kind of boring.

Which was the best film released in 2020 for you? I thought the Russian film Dear Comrades! was really stunning. It was made by a director [Andrei Konchalovsky] in his 80s who first worked with Andrei Tarkovsky back in the late 1950s. He co-scripted Ivan’s Childhood. I would love to make my masterpiece when I’m 86 too!

Related content

Films with Muslim characters

Movies that pass the Riz test

Scottish Cinema—a regularly updated list

Follow Jack on Letterboxd

‘The Mauritanian’ is in select US cinemas and virtual theaters now, and on SVOD from March 2. ‘Life in a Day 2020’ is available to stream free on YouTube, as is the original.

#kevin macdonald #michelangelo antonioni #scottish film #scottish director #emeric pressburger #the mauritanian #jodie foster #tahir rahim #tahar rahim #french actor #guantanamo bay #muslim representation #muslims on film #benedict cumberbatch #guantanamo diary #life in one day #life in one day 2020 #life in one day film #letterboxd

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postguiltypleasures · 3 years

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The Magicians Finale - (over a year later)

I didn’t watch the first season of The Magicians as it aired in late 2015- 2016. I was already watching the roughly estimated maximum amount of television I could watch. I didn’t have the time to make for a new show. It debuted at the same time as The Expanse, and that looks like the “better” show. But I would soon realize that I liked The Magicians more.

While I was watching the first season, I attempted to go back and look at the writing from while it aired. This experience profoundly influenced how I felt about the controversial ending to the fourth season, and the fall out in the fandom.

The fourth season ended after Quentin Coldwater, ostensibly the show’s central character, dying while saving the world. In his orientation to the afterlife there is discussion about was this actually heroic or was it a manifestation of his depression and suicidal identification. The show doesn’t answer this directly, it just has Quentin experience how his friends are mourning him and feel how loved it was. People felt really betrayed by this. It was considered deeply irresponsible. I have already written about it here. In the aftermath, part of me thought back to those recaps and reviews of the first season and wondered “how did we get to place where we could feel so betrayed?” Because reviews from the then seemed certain that it was more problematic than it was. Take for example this recap from Vulture season one, where the writer, Hillary Kelly, wonders who this show is actually for? Or this AV Club recap of the first season finale where the writer Lisa Weidenfeld erroneously thinks that The Beast and Julia, both rape victims, are being set up to be the show’s main villains? And that Eliot’s forced marriage to Fen was potentially a straight washing.

The fact that the worries Weidenfeld put into writing didn’t pan out is probably part of the reason that the show’s reputation improved. It would also have characters within the show call out others’s sexism, racism, etc. which could feel like something of a corrective to a lot of pop culture out there. You might also have noticed that in Weidenfeld’s recap she makes a comparison between Julia and Willow-gets-addicted-to-magic-plot season six of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Ads for the first season even looked like they wanted viewers to draw that comparison.

I remember from around the second season coming across a several articles declaring The Magicians a worthy successor to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Emily VanDerWerff discussed it in her review of the second season. As one point she makes the statement that “The Magicians isn’t as politically subversive as Buffy”, and I’m going to go out on a limb and say that might be less true than she assumed at the time. In an era of backlash against Buffy’s creator Joss Whedon, The Magicians could be comparatively more empathetic to its characters and had some pretty subversive plot points. But I haven’t watched an episode of Buffy since the early aughts, or The Magicians since it wrapped.

(VanDerWerff’s writing heavily influenced my own thoughts about thee show, which I previously wrote about here. I am also including links to her old podcast, I Think You’re Interesting and the interviews she did with novelist Lev Grossman and show runner Sera Gamble, though I should note those are from before she transitioned and under her dead name. Also I wanted to include that she included it in her best television of the 2010s article.)

In the articles I just linked to, you might also notice frequent comparisons to Game of Thrones. While the comparisons focus on the the vast difference in budget and how ubiquitous GoT was at the same time The Magicians aired, it is worth noting that both series are postmodern, deconstruction takes on their respective sub-genres. While GoT could use that to point out why surprising and awful things happened to their characters, The Magicians mostly had fewer horrible things happen to its characters. But the comparison might have influenced how post Quentin’s death people made a litany of those events/plot points to prove that any faith in the show was misplaced and it was a betrayer better left behind.

The after the fourth season I pulled back from discussing The Magicians online. I just couldn’t deal with other people’s anger. I was never really active in the fandom, but I did write about it here more than probably any other series since I started this blog. This may have given me a false impression about how the media ended up covering the show. While writing this I was planning an arc that would go something like, “at the start of the fourth season the media loved it and articles this one by Kathryn Van Arendonk at Vulture came out saying that they regretted stopping the show part way through season one. But the fan backlash to the finale was so harsh that even the show’s frequent champion, Emily VanDerWerff didn’t write about it at all for the fifth season.” She did write a positive review at the start of the fifth season. I even read it at the time. She didn’t write about the finale, and that disappointed me, which may have led me to mis-remember the earlier. (I did remember this round table discussion about the ascendency of fandom in which she discusses the show’s situation, and it might have also contributed to my misremembering.)

The AVClub had Weidenfeld write a review of the first episodes, but she no longer recapped the episodes as she had for the first four seasons. (Her review is generally about what is missing from the Quentin-less series) While preparing to write this I found out that Decider’s Anna Menta recapped through the third episode, despite being amongst those who felt betrayed by Quentin’s death and the lack of opportunity for Quentin and Eliot to explore their romance.

(I just want to take a moment to say a couple of things here. Firstly, I really believed the show runners when they said Quentin was dead and not coming back so I didn’t see the first couple of episodes as a tease that he might come back. When my grandfather who I was very close to died I would regularly have dreams that his death was incorrectly called and he’d come back. I saw those episodes as a version of that.)

This has been show I’ve written about the most in recent years. But as I was mostly ignoring both professional and fan writing about it for its final season, I only really got around to reading these now. I’m going to start with this post-finale interview with the producers, Sera Gamble, Henry Alonso Myers John McNamara, written by Vlada Gelman at TVLine. It isn’t really a lot of new information. It’s interesting to read about how being renewed or not affected their editing decisions in post production. They seem happy with it. At Entertainment Weekly, Chancellor Agard interviewed Gamble and McNamara. There is more talk about the connection between the final season of the tv show and the finale book of the trilogy, The Magicians Land. (As a viewer I was always pleased when they somehow brought in details from the books late in the season, whether it was big things for the arc like the World Seed page or details that only mattered for an episode like whales being magicians.) In the interview, they also talk about some of the wildest plot points. Gamble and McNamara also gave and interview to Adam Chitwood at Collider. Chitwood is the most enthusiastic about the show. The interview also confirms for those who want to know that Jason Ralph asked to be let go from the show, and that Julia’s pregnancy probably wouldn’t have happened if her actress Stella Maeve hadn’t gotten pregnant. Finally, in an I can’t believe I missed it example, at the New York Times, Jennifer Vineyard also interviewed Gamble and McNamera. This one starts pretty politically with how trying to save the citizens of Fillory unintentionally works as a metaphor for quarantine and how we don’t get through difficult periods of times because of individuals, instead it’s more of a collective. Then it somehow turns into a a thing about being in a mutual admiration society with William Shatner. I truly didn’t see this one coming.

So now I have to get to the actual reviews of the finale, with the caveat that I haven’t watched any of the series in over a year so it’s definitely not fresh in my mind. Over at The AVClub, re-capper Weidfeld is mostly mournful for the series, but also makes the point that when the characters grew up and stopped being so hurtful towards each other and themselves, it was less compelling. It kind of ties back to my “how did people think this was a show that wouldn’t hurt them” question from earlier, but with less interest in fans. I don’t remember if my feelings as it went on would have agreed with it, but it is partially why it was in good place to end the series. At io9, Beth Elderkin seemed to think the finale was rushed and the show deserved better. I don’t remember if I felt like the episode was rushed. But as I read through her recap, I realize that I’ve also forgotten a lot of the episode’s plot points. Over at The Mary Sue, Jessica Mason wrote a positive review highlighting aspects that pleased her as a fan who wanted good things for these characters.

Shortly after the finale Sarah Stankorb at The Atlantic recommend the series to COVID bound bingers. I was shocked to see this. I didn’t think anyone would be recommending it post season for backlash. (Earlier on an episode of Our Opinions Are Correct the hosts walked back what could have been a recommendation for the series, which disappointed me. I don’t remember which episode this was.) It’s a lovely overview of the whole series. I especially like how Stackorb addresses the way the show dealt with Julia’s assault (greatly improving on the source material). It made me wonder if the show will have a legacy, one worthy of celebration. I don’t hope for a revival, but if I had time to re-watch it, I might. And I am happy to read comicbooks building on the source material.

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neostar-entertainment · 4 years

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title: starry night

pairing: taehui-centric

summary: a journey through taehui’s mind from the start of his career in the music industry, while trying to discover himself: from a clueless kid to a man who could have it all.

notes: warning for discussions of mental health!

2006.

It felt like everything Taehui had been working towards was finally coming alive. SM Entertainment, after years of Taehui training, had informed the sixteen year old he would be debuting in a few months, in the first quarter of the new year.

Packing up his things, and throwing his backpack on, Taehui left the practice room with the proudest smile he had ever worn. Shit hadn’t always been easy, and that wasn’t a shocker. Being a trainee isn’t a walk in the park, nor is it close to being something that Taehui found himself genuinely enjoying taking a part of. Yes, he was determined to work hard to get where he wanted, and he was sure all his effort would be worth it. But, certain days it felt harder to bring himself to go practices, go to lessons, and do everything that was expected of him.

He couldn’t tell if it was something he could blame on the part of his mind that loved playing with the concept of making things worse than it seems to be.

Taehui shook his head, trying to dispel any thoughts like that at the moment-although a part of him was sure they’d be back sooner than later. His right hand holding onto the straps of his backpack as tightly as it could, he bolted out of the building, writing a small text to his father to deliver the news.

He let his mind wonder how his father, Taehyung, would react. Taehui wasn’t expecting anything less than supportive, because truth be told if it wasn’t for his father he wasn’t sure he’d be exactly where he was at. It was awkward at the start of their relationship, especially due to the fact that Taehui was educated that his dad did not want custody over him originally. The uncomfortable glances, the hesitated questions, the stubborn silence that refused to leave.

But as time progressed, so did their relationship. His father became his best friend, albeit a bit too awkward at times, Taehui was happy to have someone after losing his mother. The moment the text delivered, his phone began vibrating with a call. A small immediately painted across Taehui’s phone as he raised the phone to answer.

“You’re finally debuting?!”

“Yes!” Taehui’s smile was as bright as the stars that were beginning to illuminate the sky, “They said it’s only a few months away!”

“Fuck yeah! I-No, Ms. Jung it’s okay, it’s about Taehui.” Taehui laughed to himself as his father told his secretary the news. “How about I pick you up and we can go for a celebratory dinner?”

“That’d be-wait, don’t you have work to do? You don’t even come home anymore until really late.” Taehui’s didn’t mean to sound accusatory at all and before he could spit out an apology his father’s laughter filled his ears.

“It’s fine. I can take off early one day for you, Hui. I’ll pick you up outside of the normal spot?”

“Yup!” Taehui didn’t mean to sound like a childhood who was asked if they wanted desert, letting out a cough, he repeated the same word with a more deeper tone, “Yup.”

“Dork. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes, if traffic isn’t too bad. Please stay indoors.”

“Understood, boss.” Taehui had to hold himself back from giving a salute when they were talking over the fucking phone. His face flushed as he hurried back inside, his mind and heart racing with excitement like never before.

2009.

Debuting under SM was a dream come true for Taehui...for a solid few months. When his debut didn’t pull as much attention as SM had hoped, worries were already up in the air. However, Taehui was determined to prove his worth by putting his best foot forward.

Yet, it felt like every time Taehui attempted to step up to the plate, it was met with him running into a brick wall. When he suggested producing and creating his own music to show his musicality to the public, he was told that they didn’t want to risk anything with an amateur behind the music. When he tried to get on variety shows to get the public’s interest in him to rise, management told him he didn’t have the personality to do any shows by himself.

When his first comeback didn’t do any better than his debut, it felt like Taehui was thrown onto the backburner. No news came out any type of promotion or comeback, a year after his comeback. Whenever he asked about anything he was told that something was being planned.

Around the time it was getting close to two years without any news or any type of promotion, Taehui went to his dad and both of them managed to get Taehui’s contract nullified.

That’s how Taehui ended up in the balcony of his penthouse, sitting right on the glass rail with one of his legs hanging off the edge.

“Mind getting down from there, before you give your old man a heart attack?” his dad's voice was gentle, causing Taehui to snap his head towards him as we came onto the balcony as well.

Taehui hurriedly brought his other leg off the rail, hopping off and walking towards his dad and taking the cup of hot tea in his hands. “Thanks.”

“Of course, kid.” Hui’s father gestured to the two chairs for them to sit together.

“What’s up?”

“So I’ve been thinking…” Taehyung grinned as he let the silence build up just to see Taehui pout, “What if, you created your own company?”

“I-uh...what?”

“You’re an adult this year, so that’s not an issue-”

“I know, but...a whole company?”

“I mean,” Taehyung brought the cup to his lips as he took a sip as he put a hand on-top of Taehui’s trying to reassure the kid who looked like his mind was running crazy. “Don’t think I’m trying to make you or anything. It’s all up to you, Hui. I’ve thought about it recently, and it’s definitely a possibility, especially if you still want to pursue music.”

Taehui remained silent, looking down at the tea in his cup, his mind wandering all over the place.

“I’m just…”

“Scared?”

Taehui weakly nodded, as his cheeks flushed with a soft pink tint showcasing his slight embarrassment regarding his feelings.

“You won’t be alone. You’ll have me with, Hui, always.” the reassurance in his father’s voice made Taehui look up, seeing the sincerity in his eyes felt overwhelming in a sense. His eyes swelled up with tears, rashly lowering his head again.

“Hey, buddy…” he felt his father get up from his seat and crouch down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I didn’t mean for it to be so pressuring-”

“No. I-I’m not...That’s not why.” Taehui quickly rubbed his eyes, wanting any tears that were threatening to fall to disappear. “I’m just...fuck-”

“Hey, no cursing, kid.” The teasing tone in his dad’s voice made him smile while he chuckled, pulling his hands away from covering his eyes.

“Give me time to think about it?”

“Of course!” Taehyung pulled him into a side-hug, “Just breathe, right now. Take as much time as you need, I’ll do some more research about it in the meantime. It’ll sound pretty nice for both son and father being CEOs of their own companies, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taehui rolled his eyes sarcastically, his mind trailing into the thought of the possibility of having his own company.

2015.

If you had told Taehui that he’d be leaving SM Entertainment, only to shortly create his own company to pursue his music career at the age of 20, he’d tell you you’re full of shit. If you had decided to throw in the fact that he’d be reaching the status of one of the better-known soloists in the industry, taking awards during some of the biggest award shows in South Korea’s music industry, he’d laugh his ass off.

However, after he had decided to establish his own company, under the guide of his father, that’s exactly what happened. Taehui already had netizen’s attention with him re-debuting after leaving, and he used it to his advantage with the numerous releases he threw out during his debut in 2013. Each one had managed to garner more and more attention than the previous, showing the interest the general public had in him, and Taehui decided to use that to his advantage.

Winning MNet’s award for best new artist helped solidify Taehui’s new status in the industry, and his ever-growing music show wins proved his power amongst the competition.

As Taehui laid in the backyard of his house, his eyes focused on stars that were scattered along the night sky, a smile spread across his face. It had been 5 official years of him trying to make it in the industry, and Taehui felt like he was exactly where he wanted to be.

He felt like he had everything he possibly wanted and even more.

Taehui simply felt something that had been chasing for a few years: happiness.

2016.

“I’m shocked you’ve decided to create your own groups,” Taehui’s father spoke as they both sat down in the restaurant for dinner, “Didn’t feel like that long ago you were crying over re-debuting yourself.”

“Dad.” Taehui’s cheeks heated up almost instantly, causing his father to let out a laugh. “I’m 26 now, I was a kid back-”

“Didn’t you just become an adult then?”

“You’re pure evil.” Taehui squinted his eyes, pointing at his chopsticks at his father’s direction, snorting as his father gasped dramatically.

“The same evil that’s helped you get where you are, huh?”

“That exact type of evil.”

Both of the men laughed softly to themselves as they read over the menu, even though Taehui had already memorized all the entrees from coming here so many times with his dad.

“So why the sudden interest in helping others debut under you?”

“Uh,” Taehui looked up through his eyelashes. “Not really sudden. I just...I’ve been thinking and I’ve been really grateful for everything that’s happened-”

“That you’ve worked tremendously hard for.”

“Yeah, of course, but still. If there’s a chance I can do the same for other people, why not? I’m sure not if I’m gonna fall flat on my face with this idea, but there’s always a possibility it’ll end well. Can you imagine that? Just creating a safe space for others too?”

A comfortable silence faded across the atmosphere, Taehyung nodding along to what his son had said. It was the truth. Taehui knew the stress he’s endured, and the scares he’s dealt with whilst being under a company that wasn’t his own. He knows how taxing it can be at first hand, how much it can weigh on someone to the point where giving up on a dream seems simpler. If Taehui can eliminate that for anyone looking to make it in the industry, he’d at least be willing to try.

“Just...don’t forget about yourself. It’ll be great if you can pull this off successfully, however, living just to make others happy isn’t ideal. Make sure you stay happy too.”

“Yeah, of course-”

“Are you still going to therapy?”

Taehui grunted a response, his eyes faltering from the direction of his head.

“Taehui.”

“Yes. I’m going.”

“It’s not something-”

“To be ashamed about, I know. It’s just...annoying sometimes.”

“It helps though, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“You haven’t thought about…”

“No, God no. I can’t even remember the last time I thought about that.”

“Good, good.” Taehui’s dad nodded, leaning forwards to take a sip out of his drink. His bluntness was always something Taehui wanted from him, just to say whatever was on his mind without hesitating. “Also...you got enough money to fund all these idols?”

“Yeah, of course! I have enough money planned and I’ve been talking to some of the people you’ve told me to, and I’ve been contacting some investors to see if they’d be willing to do anything in regards to that as well.”

“Great,” the teasing smile of his father’s face caused Taehui to roll his eyes dramatically, “just don’t come to me if everything fails.”

“Oh, please. You’d run over to help.”

“I’m not a billionaire-”

“Close to it.”

“If you fail with this, I’ll have a job ready as my assistant.”

“The evil is back again!”

#kumokocnet #kocsociety #fake kpop #fake kpop idol #oc kpop idol #oc kpop band #idol!au #idol!oc #oc kpop soloist #c: taehui #i FEEL LIKE THIS IS TERRIBLE #maybe ill delete #i just wanted to throw out taehui content aslkdjasldkj #we'll see hhh #anyways taehui and his dad are a dream duo omg rich lil fuckers #adopt me challenge

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nationalhoranleague · 4 years

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Fourteen | Road Trip

≫ Everly - Saturday, January 16, 2016 ≪

"You're going to stop by practice and say goodbye to the boys, right?" I looked to Melissa, who stood leaning against the banister of the stairs, a coffee cup in hand.

"Of course," I looked over my bags that sat on the floor, making sure I had everything. "I would never hear the end of it if I didn't,"

Mel laughed lightly. "I wouldn't advise taking him," She pointed to Sidney who sat over on the arm of the couch, messing around on his phone. "Inside, though."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I wouldn't even think about it." My phone beeped from my pocket with an alarm. My heart fell into my stomach. "We should be going if we want to catch them before they hit the ice." Mel's face fell, but so did mine.

"I'm going to go put these in the car," Sidney suddenly popped up next to me, motioning to our bags on the floor. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mel," Sidney reached to give her a hug, being cautious of her steaming coffee cup. "It was nice to meet you and Jeff." Mel smiled sadly, patting his back as if it was a signal for him to let go of her. Mel never was much of a hugger.

"You're always welcome here, Sid. We're family now, yeah?" Sidney grinned, nodding.

"Yeah," He began to pick up a few bags from the floor. "The same goes for Pittsburgh. Make sure the boys get my note, okay?" I was confused as to what he was talking about, but Mel nodded.

"Of course,"

Sidney turned to me, a suitcase in each hand and my backpack tossed over his shoulder. "I'll meet you in the car, okay?"

I nodded and watched as he made his way out the front door and down the front steps to the car. I sighed heavily as I watched as he climbed into the front seat and shut the door. "I don't want to leave,"

Mel laughed sadly, reaching to set her coffee cup down on a wooden step. "You do," My eyebrows furrowed. "You can't wait to get in that car with your little lover boy." I laughed, reaching up to wipe away a few stray tears.

"I just wish he played here, you know?" Mel nodded, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "I hate being separated from you and Jeff."

"We hate being separated from you," I inhaled sharply, trying to keep my composure. "Maybe, I'll try and talk Jeff into requesting a trade," I laughed, stepping back from her. We both looked awful, red-ringed eyes and cheeks puffy with tears.

"Good luck with that," Mel shrugged like she knew she could never convince Jeff to leave Carolina. "Be good,"

Mel smiled, picking her coffee cup back up. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do while you're in D.C.,"

I smirked, leaning over to scoop up Sidney's carry-on bag and my purse. "What about in the car?"

"Are the windows tinted?" I snorted, shaking my head at the redhead in front of me. A tense pause hung in the air, neither one of us wanting to say the inevitable next words.

"I'll," She stopped to clear her throat. "I'll see you later, okay? I'll come up for my birthday and then we'll work out something for the summer." I nodded, hugging her one more time.

"I'll see you later," I stepped through the open front door and slowly made my way to the rental car parked in the driveway. With one hand on the handle of the passenger side door, I used the other to blow her kiss.

"Ugh," Jeff's breathy exhale blew my fly-away hairs away from the side of my face.

I tilted my head to look up at him. A deep frown and furrowed eyebrows were set into his features. "Jeff," I reached up, placing my hand on his cheek. "We'll be fine, it's only a few more months and then we can spend all summer together!"

Jeff shook his head, releasing me from his embrace. "What if we make playoffs?" I nearly scoffed at the thought. "What if they make playoffs?" Now, that was a little more plausible.

I giggled, shaking my head at my worrisome best friend. "I wouldn't worry too much," Jeff's eyebrows lifted. "We've always done this, you'd go back home to Markham, I'd stay in North Carolina, and then we would travel to see each other." I smiled up at him. "This is nothing new, we can handle it."

"You're not going to go to Nova Scotia with Sidney?" I shrugged my shoulders as we began to walk away from the dressing room and towards the door that I came in through.

I shrugged. "I suppose I don't know, yet. We haven't talked about it,"

Jeff laughed, tugging on one of my boxer braids. "Nonsense,"

"Where are Elias and Justin?" Jeff sighed, leaning against the wall just as we stopped by the door.

"Elias doesn't want to see you off, again, he's in denial, I think. He does, however, want me to do this," Jeff reached to hug me and then kissed both of my cheeks like Elias always does.

I grinned, shaking my head. "You make sure you tell him that he's always welcome in Pittsburgh just like you and Mel are,"

"I will, pipsqueak,"

"Do it in a Swedish accent." Jeff laughed but tried to mock Elias's accent and he failed miserably. "Please, don't do that ever again."

"Justin sends his best wishes," I nodded. "He's in physical therapy this morning, something with his ankle, I think."

I nodded in understanding. "Oh, that's too bad."

Jeff smiled, opening the door and walking out in front of me, leading me to the parking lot. "He's about as graceful on the ice as you are on the ground,"

"So, not at all?" Jeff nodded and laughed. I looked to where Sidney was parked, and through the windshield, I could see him scrolling through his phone just as intently as earlier with his eyebrows furrowed. "Behave yourself, okay? No penalties, no major parties, and please don't aggravate Mel while she's trying to study for school." Jeff nodded, a sad smile on his face as he wrapped me in his arms again.

"Okay, mom," I rolled my eyes at the boy who was only a few months younger than myself, but always felt the need to tease me for the way I looked after him. "Have fun in D.C., text me when you get settled into your hotel so I know you're not dead."

"Alright, dad," Jeff laughed, before unlacing his arms from around me. He lifted his head to glance in Sidney's direction and offered him a wave.

I looked at Sidney, noticing his content smile as he watched Jeff and me. "Go,"

I slowly began making my way towards the rental car Sidney and I would be driving to D.C. in. "I love you, Jeff."

He smiled, winking at me. "I love you too, Everly."

Minute Forty-Seven: US-64 E, Nashville, North Carolina

"So, how did you meet Jeff, exactly?"

I laughed, just a little. "So, before Jeff played hockey, he was a figure skater." Sidney eyed me oddly, but I just nodded. "I was at a competition in Buffalo in like 2004, maybe, and the coach I had at the time knew his coach and so they introduced us to each other and the rest is history,"

Sidney nodded, a smile on his face. "How did you guys end up living together?"

"Coincidental turn of events, really," Sidney laughed and I shrugged. "I graduated from high school, he got drafted to Carolina a few weeks later, and then when he signed his three-year contract we put part of that check and part of the money I got from Vancouver into buying a house."

Sidney smiled. "And you lived there together for five years?" I laughed, nodding.

"Oh yeah," I huffed, a small laugh coming from me. "Fairly sure my parents thought I was insane, buying a house with a teenage professional hockey player that I was in no way in love with." I turned my head to the window. "But, you know what? We had fun and we were the closest thing each other had to family while we were in North Carolina. We hit some rough patches obviously, but we always made up and went back to being siblings. We grew up together, you know?"

Sidney allowed an exhale to evict from him. "Good friends are hard to find,"

I turned my head back to Sidney. "I've been lucky, I suppose." Sidney's eyes briefly left the road to look at me. "Found Jeff, found Mel, Olli," I sighed happily, reaching over the console to place my hand on Sidney's thigh. "Found you."

"We're only friends?" Sidney asked, a playful grin coming across his face.

I laughed, tilting my head back. "You're my best friend, babe."

Sidney hummed, tilting his jaw in my direction. I grinned, pushing myself up to press a kiss against his stubble covered face. "You're my best friend too, Everly Grace."

Hour One, Minute Fifty-Eight: I-95 N, Emporia, Virginia

"Sid," Sidney barely glanced at me in the passenger seat. "I have to use the restroom,"

Sidney groaned loudly, allowing his chin to drop against his chest. "You have to pee, again?"

I blushed, offering a sheepish grin. "Well, no,"

Sidney snorted, shaking his head. "Everly!"

Hour Three, Minute Thirty-Two: I-295 N, Fredericksburg, Virginia

I glanced up from my tattered copy of "Looking for Alaska" to look at Sidney's phone that sat perched up in the cupholder. It had just gone off for about the 16th time since we've been in the car.

"You're a very popular man today,"

Sidney groaned. "Answer that, will you?" I slowly closed my book and reached for Sidney's phone.

"It's Pat," Sidney nodded, a grimace coming across him. "What did you do?" I wondered aloud as I unlocked Sid's phone. I began to read through the numerous texts Sidney had received from his manager, shock coming over me. "Have you read these?"

Sidney nodded his head. "I read the first seven texts,"

I cleared my throat. "Would you like me to read what he just sent you?"

Sidney ran a hand over his face. "Go ahead,"

I sighed, reaching up to toss my two braids over my shoulders. "It's an article, so, prepare yourself."

Sidney stiffened in his seat, cocking his head ever-so-slightly to the side. "It's an article?"

I scoffed, shaking my head with a laugh. "Oh, yeah. TMZ Sports. "America's Sweetheart Everly Grace Cassius has never been one to be shy when it comes to opening up about her private life, often willingly talking about her past struggles with depression, overcoming adversity in the figure skating world, and her dating life. But, since her return to her hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennslyvania in early October of 2015, the two-time Olympic Gold Medalist has been relatively hush-hush.

Everly's sudden quietness caused a stir across the figure skating world, as the absence for months on end from social media has not to be seen since Cassius joined the national spotlight. This being said, fans were lead to speculate that Cassius' absence on social media was due to a possible new relationship.

Everly's fans were proven right after she and rumored beau, Pittsburgh Penguins' captain Sidney Crosby, were pictured together in Raleigh, with a few friends and NHLers in tow. This is not the first time the two have been linked together, as they were pictured together twice before: first in a Pittsburgh grocery store looking cozy in early December and then again earlier this month, appearing to celebrate her 24th birthday with her family and a few Pittsburgh Penguins players and wives. It is also glaringly hard to ignore the fact that Everly has followed many Penguins' wives and girlfriends on social media, as well as Crosby's younger sister, Taylor.

Crosby is known to the city of Pittsburgh as their most eligible bachelor since his breakup in 2014 from his former flame, Pittsburgh Pirates broadcaster, Ella Hart. Crosby is also known to be a very private man, being one of the only NHL players still absent on any form of social media. Crosby's likeness for his privacy may very well be what's keeping Cassius quiet on social media.

We are waiting on further confirmation from either Cassius or Crosby or their respective representatives and will update this article with further information as it may come along."

Sidney kept his eyes concentrated on the road in front of him as he steered the car in the direction of the exit for Washington D.C. "Well," He began, stopping to exhale a heavy breath. "Shit." He laughed.

I laughed, lightly, as I shook my head. "So," I placed Sidney's phone in my lap and pulled mine from my purse that sat on the floor. "Now, that the cat is out of the bag, should I make it Instagram official?" I asked teasingly, knowing that he would likely say no.

Sidney nodded, glancing over his shoulder as he merged into a lane, heading into the direction of the hotel. "Do it,"

I looked at him in surprise. "Wait, what?" He laughed. "I was kidding, I know you don't want to be on social media."

"Everly, I don't want to be on social media. But, I understand that you choose to use social media as a platform to interact with people. If posting a picture of us on social media is important to you, then do it. Post my nudes on Instagram, I don't care, it's your social media. Share as much or as little as you want to." I placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly.

"Are you sure?" I moved one hand up to the back of his neck, twisting a longer curl around my pointer finger.

He smiled, dropping his head back into my hand as he turned into the parking lot of the hotel we were staying in tonight. "Absolutely,"

I grinned. "I love you, Sid,"

Sidney smiled widely, leaning across the console to kiss my forehead. "I love you, Ev. Date night in D.C. then?"

I hummed as I began to collect my things and put them in my purse to go into the hotel. "Sounds like a plan, I'll wear my 'Crosby's #1 Fan' t-shirt."

Sidney laughed, his head hitting the back of his seat. "Yeah, I bet you will."

Liked by smellymelly, kletang_58, taycrosby29, and 35,786 others.

everlygcassius: fine & mine 💛🐧

Read Change on the Fly here!

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higuchimon · 4 years

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[fanfic] Emotional Encounters

Of all the possible sights Akoya thought he’d see as he strolled down the street, Zaou Ryuu half-slumped against a wall, staring down at his phone wearing one of the most dejected expressions he’d ever seen in his life wasn’t one of them.

Akoya’s first thought was that Zaou just didn’t look right with that sort of look on his face. His second was that whatever had caused this expression might well be useful for their plans. There was always room for a new monster, in his opinion, and if it were all that distressing, then surely it would be useful.

His third thought was a little different – a flicker of curiosity to know what could possibly have dejected Zaou this much. The other teenager didn’t seem to know how to be sad for more than three consecutive seconds, and Akoya wanted to know what had done it. He told himself it was because if anyone should do this to Zaou, it should be him and if someone else were doing it, then he wanted to know who and why.

He strolled over; Zaou didn’t seem to have noticed anything as he put his phone away and looked ready to head off on wherever he’d been when he got what the bad news was. Akoya didn’t let him get away.

“Dare I ask what’s so upsetting?” Akoya said by way of greeting. The moment that he spoke, the sad expression vanished off of Zaou’s face, replaced by a hollow grin.

Akoya could identity a false expression from half a street away. He made them himself often enough, and he found now that he didn’t like them when they were turned towards him, especially when Zaou spoke with equally hollow, if vibrant, words.

“You shouldn’t have to. You did just walk up, after all,” Zaou taunted. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you rode in that fancy car of yours all the time.”

Akoya waved one hand. “if I choose to take a walk, I’m certainly allowed to do so. Now you tell me the real answer. It isn’t as if you’re capable of lying to me.”

Zaou’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I’m lying to you?”

“Because you are. Really, Zaou, don’t have an emotion in front of me. I’m not sure if you actually know how to do it properly.” Akoya sniffed. “And where are the rest of those ridiculous people you call your friends? I didn’t think the five of you were ever this far apart.”

That oddly reminded him of those Battle Lovers, who had such a tendency to turn up when and where they weren’t wanted. They always stuck so very close together, and on occasion Scarlet did mention things about baths, which -

“None of your business.” Zaou snapped. “They’re busy. That’s all.”

He wasn’t entirely lying about that. Akoya still hadn’t entirely given up the idea of departing and informing Kinshiro, Arima, and Zundar about the perfect chance to create a monster out of someone he genuinely disliked. But he wanted to have an idea of what kind of monster they could get out of this first.

“You looked far more bothered than what a simple ‘busy’ would merit,” Akoya pointed out, enjoying the way he made Zaou more and more uncomfortable. Most of his pleasures in life were far more complex than this but there was something to be said for the simple things as well.

Zaou shook his head. “If it gets you away from me – Io and I were supposed to go see a movie and he just canceled. He said something came up and he can’t get away right now. Probably something to do with the stock market.” Zaou pressed his lips together for a second before he shook his head again and that false expression of cheer returned. “Now, are you satisfied?”

Oh. Akoya began to reconsider his plans. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t enjoy the thought of turning Zaou into some sort of monster – something hideous and revolting and as unbeautiful as it possibly could be, something that could never have friends, never have a single date with anyone ever, but now he found himself reminded that Io also existed, and was – somehow – Zaou’s friend.

Io would likely be rather displeased at whatever happened, even if he never exactly knew why. Io had turned down the chance to join the Student Council, but Akoya hadn’t entirely given up the thought of persuading him for it another day. If not this year, then next. If it should happen that Io found out that Akoya had a hand in such a thing, then he would be irritated, to say the least.

“I wouldn’t worry about it so much. You know as well as I do that his finances come first for him,” Akoya said. He wondered if he could find something genuinely comforting to say. He knew he was as bad at that as he was at – more things than he cared to think about. What he could do, he was very good at, but those things that he couldn’t do he was atrocious at.

But perhaps those were the words Zaou needed to hear, as he snorted some. “You might be right. Don’t let it go to your head. You’ve got enough hot air in there already.”

Normally that would have irritated Akoya. Right now it sounded enough like he was used to hearing from Zaou for him to offer one of his favored smirks.

“I assure you, I will let nothing go into my head that doesn’t belong there.” He glanced at the time. He didn’t need to be home at any given time, as long as he wasn't too late. Perfect. “Now, as you clearly have nothing better to do with your time, come along with me.”

Zaou didn’t move a muscle. If anything, he looked suspicious and distrusting. Akoya approved.

“Excuse me?”

“You have nothing else to do and I have free time. Therefore, you and I are going to spend this time together.” He hadn’t yet decided what to do, but that could come once Zaou stopped arguing with him. The idea had just taken root but he found he enjoyed the notion of bedazzling the poor fool until he didn’t dare look sad around Akoya ever again. Emotions that he didn’t approve of weren’t allowed.

“Why would I want to spend time around you when I could go home and get twice the entertainment staring at a wall?”

“Because you can’t.” Akoya smiled a sleek, predatory smile that he knew full well made him more enticing, slipping one finger into his pink curls, enjoying the feel of sleek hair against soft skin. Zaou didn’t quite look enticed, but that read as challenge to him. Not that he’d want to keep Zaou around, but the boy should at least know what he was missing by not aspiring to Akoya’s level. “You would sit in your room and stare at the walls, mope, and stare at your phone. You would get absolutely nothing done and while that is amusing, that isn’t what I intend to do.”

Zaou crossed his arms. “So? You can do whatever you want. I’m not getting involved.”

“Don’t you even wonder what I have in mind?” Akoya asked, arching one eyebrow. He didn’t wait for Zaou to lie and say that he didn’t. “Shopping. Anywhere that I want – or that you want. Call whoever it is you live with and tell them you’re having dinner out. All of it my treat.”

He could not have said where this burst of what may have been called generosity came from. It really wasn’t generosity, he knew. It was the desire to make certain Zaou didn’t feel things that could be construed as emotions that Akoya didn’t want to see him feel, such as being upset that his friends had lives that didn’t involve him. He was more than satisfied if Zaou experienced envy, greed, or lust for pretty possessions, especially since he could dangle them over Zaou’s head for as long as it amused him to do so.

Zaou threw up his hands. “You’re just going to kidnap me if I don’t oblige you, aren’t you?” He glared at Akoya as if Akoya had deliberately arranged for everyone to have other obligations on purpose. Akoya did nothing, only waited, until Zaou jerked his phone out of his pocket and started punching keys. Clearly he would do this and clearly he would do it while being annoyed every single step of the way.

I think he’ll be a lot more amusing like this than as a monster. And perhaps this could interest Io as well. He wondered exactly how much of Io’s choice not to join the Council was because of wanting to stay around Zaou. If Akoya managed to convince Zaou to leave the Defense Club as well – well, it was a thought worth pursuing.

And pursue it he absolutely would.

The End

Notes: I think Akoya's biting off more than he can chew here.

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #binan koukou chikyuu bouei-bu love!#silvormoon

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sturlsons · 5 years

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batman’s great recap (2012 - 2018)

ON POPULAR DEMAND (seriously y’all i’m not the best at replying to messages but i do see them) here is that fic-over-the-years special!

now, i know i spoke about reaching into The Vault for my harry potter and supernatural fic but honestly...i spent the past half hour going through that shit and it’s dumb. it’s not even about embarrassment - my style was basically nonexistent? there’s literally nothing you can draw from it. it was just “blah blah blah,” he said. he felt bad. and other such things. so instead let’s try to see if i wrote some real fiction in 2012. going for two fics a year since i’ve realised i have this pattern of taking a big step up at some point in the summer/fall. i believe.

2012 - mostly horsecrap but had its moments

‘See, that’s where you’re wrong,’ Taemin says as he washes the bowl. He puts it away and turns back to Kibum. ‘Onew’s a supermodel. I’m not going to go talk to a stuck up airhead. I’m going to talk to the boy who wanted me to put can crack open nuts with fingers on his résum��.’ -- shatterglass

'You are good looking,' Yifan says incredulously. He hadn't imagined the Mysterious Cake Thief to be even marginally attractive, but this guy takes the...well, cake. 'I don't like you. Leave my scarf on the table and get out.' -- things to ask yixing

2013 - full-out nonsense or full-out angst, no inbetween

'You threw me into the crowd,' Yixing says through gritted teeth as he applies disinfectant none too gently on Yifan's cheek. 'YOU NEED TO STOP THROWING ME OVER RAILINGS.'

'You were standing in the corner and drinking Diet Coke while I battled an assassin,' Yifan retorts. 'You were supposed to run.' -- secret agenting for dummies

'I think my ears are bleeding. Are my ears bleeding, Joonmyun?' Yifan asks gravely. 'Don't be afraid to tell me the truth.' -- tired&wired

‘Yes,’ Jongin says, frowning again—Kyungsoo’s pinned it down as his perpetual expression now—and shrugging. ‘I always look at you like this when you laugh. Perhaps this is the first time you caught me in the act.’ -- thunderbirds

2014 - the equivalent of tasteless porridge

There are things about Jongdae that Chanyeol had never hoped to find out. He holds these things in his calloused hands, folds them under his pillow, under his handkerchief. He’s done his collecting. He can sleep now. -- (can i ask you) about today

"kyungsoo's dead," baekhyun answers. "do you guys want some coffee?" -- phantoms

2015 - was certainly a year

‘CAUGHT IN A LANDSLIDE,’ Boy hollers solemnly, his hand on his pastel-pink-clad chest, the other one spreading out and the rest of the patrons sitting calmly as if this is an everyday occurrence, and more importantly, as if this human can actually sing. ‘NO ESCAPE FROM REALITY.’ -- set the tone / jaywalkers

‘Can you?’ Shizuo's arms are trembling with the fatigue of restraint, and Izaya might never be graced with such humanity again. ‘Can you...take it. Izaya. Tell me you can take it.’

For all of Shizuo’s honest violence, Izaya is pulled towards him for what he can see beyond that— Shizuo is so simply and painfully but a man. It's what makes him the fiend he is, and so Izaya leans forward, perilously close, looks into Shizuo’s eyes. ‘Can you?’ -- sacramental

The sun is coming up inch by inch, but it's still so dark, and so blue, and he's so beautiful. He's so beautiful that Eren doesn't know what to do with himself, encased in steam as they are, in mist, with Jean's lips trembling, the most moving Eren has ever seen him look. Our brief wage ours for the moment. Jean who paints with God's colours, Jean who loves him so. -- in petersburg

2016 - HANDS DOWN BEST WRITING YEAR EVER

'He smells your hoodies,' Sonic says. 'His engines go wild when you smile at him. He blushes when you pat his head, which, I don't even know how he's configured to blush. One time I asked him what his favourite colour was and he said Saitama sensei.' -- everybody’s looking for darjeeling

'Just,' Kei says, and Kuroo is caging him in against the mirror, and behind him is an exposed brick wall that blurs and sharpens in turns in Kei's vision, and the light above his head is red, and Kei wishes Kuroo worked for the devil. Kei wishes Kuroo was the devil, wishes he didn't have a bow and arrow on the wrist so close to Kei's head as Kuroo's arms slide lower from their place on the mirror. Kei wishes Kuroo didn't draw memories and hopes into people's skins for a living, wishes Kuroo hadn't seen the '64 Olympics live and taken a dozen lovers to bed, wants to be the first one, the only one, Kuroo's only love sprung from his only hate. -- heretic

‘Listen, Ryou-san.’ Youichi takes the chair— proving his point before he even makes it— turning it backwards and sitting down, hands white-knuckled tight on the wooden back. ‘When I wake up in the morning, I don’t even know what I want for breakfast. You’re not going to tell me what I wanted, much less how I wanted it.’ -- movers and shakers

‘You know I won’t force you.’ Kuroo’s hand is still right there, not so close but not that far either. Waiting, like Kuroo’s been doing so many times this evening, for the strangest of things. For Kei to finish his drink, for Kei to finish his sentence, for Kei to finish. ‘But I’m not a half-bad dancer. I’m just saying. Don’t make me pull out the birthday emotional blackmail.’ -- learning to speak / jaywalkers

Kuroo doesn’t have an armour. Kuroo is armour. His body is strong and his smile is stronger, because he believes what he believes with a carefree conviction, with almost an abandon, as if it’s a relief to think that he can’t be loved. -- 12.5 (long before rock’n’roll) / jaywalkers

But— Taehyung looks out beyond Jeongguk's shoulder, and at the pictures on the walls. At a him that Jeongguk missed without knowing who he misses, like the wailing wind of grief on the first day of summer. -- summer; blue

Friendship, Hitoka thinks, is the way you can be so involved in something that isn't your story entirely but might as well be. The song is soft and so painfully sweet that she wonders at Kuroo-san for being able to bear singing it to a room half-filled with strangers, but when he hums at the end of the second chorus and waits for the guitar break, the almost-blank look on Himuro-san's face as he steps up says it all. He's looking at a spot on the floor, so focused on getting the notes right, saying in the best way he can that this moment belongs to Kuroo-san; he was the one who made the invitation, after all. He's been playing here since his first year, Hitoka knows; how attuned he must be to it all. -- fall / jaywalkers

'He should know, shouldn't he? I wouldn't want him not to know. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine not telling someone you like that you like them? That's terrifying, Jin.' -- 11:58:30

But then Taehyung grins even wider, like they've already met, and clambers all over Jeongguk, hugging him and rocking him back and forth, clutching him tight in the folds of his soft, big sweater. And Jeongguk, Jeongguk stares at an overturned Converse high-top on the floor, wondering how it could be that his love is in his throat, that his heart is weak and sleepy with it. -- butterfingers

'It's called,' he says, then takes another breath and lets it out. 'It's called my best friend falls in love.' -- let me know / jaywalkers

2017 - AKA “i went too hard in 2016 and burned out”

'I know the pre-requisite formalities of taking it up the ass, Taehyung,' Jeongguk says, and Taehyung chokes on air for lack of a toothbrush. 'I know it's hard to believe, but I have slept with people before.' -- surface, arches, breaking through / summer; blue

Jeongguk doesn't agree. He thinks happiness always barges in without warning or manners, like a drunkard from the street. He thinks happiness steals out the next morning without a single noise, like that drunkard waking up to his shameful hangover. -- poppy seeds

‘You deflated fucking rubber goose,’ he hisses, ‘what the fuck are you doing.’

‘Helping a friend—’

‘Across the Styx and into the netherworld?’

‘Across the league divide and into Jung Hoseok’s manly, manly—’

-- and now for something completely different

2018 - nothing to see here, still burnt out

‘I am so fucking PUMPED,’ Hoseok says as if to punctuate Taehyung’s inner litany. He bangs his fist down on Seokjin’s empty guitar case and hoots loudly, and for once, Seokjin and Yoongi laugh along instead of rolling their eyes. (They can’t help being caught up, after all.) ‘MAN ALIVE. I FEEL LIKE A COCKROACH.’ -- (if there’s something better baby) well they haven’t found it yet

There are no guns here. Just Angelo, his eyes burning with the will to live. Just Nero, who made himself a bed of gauze and called it a day. The blanket is warm and heavy like the safety of childhood, and he can’t even cry; he doesn’t have the right. -- i came burning burning burning burning

What he's more interested by is...just them. Tonight, young and busy with great ideas about what to do with life, they look like porcelain. Tooru will never be able to unsee the future he has seen for them, and the only thing worse than the hole that has opened up in his stomach since this morning when he saw it, is the fact that he is never, ever allowed to change it. -- moonfall

‘I don’t have time for this,’ he says to Suran out of context, and she makes a sound of agreement. ‘Suran, I need you to hit me with a frying pan about something.’

‘I’ll hit you with a frying pan even without a reason, don’t worry.’ -- tuesday, wednesday, ♡ attack

VOILÀ VOILÀ. in conclusion, i peaked in 2016 and i don’t know why any of you are still here two whole years later thinking i will ever put something good out again. BUT IT WARMS MY HEART. LOVE U GUYS.

#fic #2018 windups #man...2016 was something #i'd kind of forgotten that it wasn't just summer; blue #i wrote so much other shit #all varied and /good/#i miss that year man #not just for writing but in general #it was such a good year. i met a pathology phd prince charming in prague #did the bit from dirty dancing with another one #it was all dresses and scarves and major lazer #ANYWAY LEMME SHUT UP #2016 is gone and life will never be the same #just gotta roll with it

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connorxelliott · 6 years

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For Mr. Seán Mcloughin

So first of all; this might be long and rambley and I don’t honestly believe you’ll see this Seán but if you do somehow- hello!!

For the longest time now, I have been in such a bad bad place with my family and friends, distant relatives, my friendships and relationships and honestly just with what I believe of myself and what I believe I’m worth. Now, I won’t go into my mental health problems or anything like that because I feel like that’s a lack of privacy and anyone who is reading this doesn’t want to know my life story

However, in December, 2015 I finally came to realisation with myself that I am transgender and throughout 2015 I had been in such a dark and difficult place; I was burnt out and everything was crumbling around me and I didn’t know where to go and when I figured out my identity- I hated myself. I didn’t want anymore drama than I already had

Going into 2016, my whole family were outside watching fireworks while I was lighting candles in my room and watching them from my dresser with my laptop open and I was just scrolling through my YouTube recommendations and I came to one of Seáns videos- I do believe it was a happy wheels video

The man who adressed himself at the start of the video was so loud and bubbly and honestly seemed so genuine and so sweet, friendly and kind and since that first video I have watched every video as close to upload times as possible because he makes me happy and made me smile even when things were tough and I felt like my lungs were caving in.

To this very day, my thoughts on Seán haven’t changed at all; he is still such a sweetheart and I love him as platonically as any fan possibly can. With my family problems still going around, I lost faith in all of humanity. The news was filled with violence and sadness- it felt like everything was falling to pieces and because of this, my mind trapped me in a bubble and whenever something would go wrong I would be trapped inside and not allowed out and Im still working on getting myself out but back then, I let myself stay there. I wore the same smiley mask for years and because of that, I took on peoples problems and stopped looking after myself. I turned myself into a robot. But next I had forced myself into believing that everyone who seems kind and genuine is hiding behind a mask just like me and they’re not like that in real life. But I was proved wrong by Seán.

After excluding toxic people from my life and getting myself on track, I realised that this man is human. He isn’t fake- he’s not wearing a mask and he’s not some type of android that has been made to look human and programmed to make them seem as human as possible- this man has the same colour blood as me, breathes the same air as me and he’s alive. He is human.

I know this might sound dramatic but with the darkness that had consumed my mind I couldn’t breathe; it was like I was suffocated in doubt and I didn’t believe there was any humanity left.

When Seán announced his break on YouTube I was genuinely super proud of him and I still am because he took time to look after himself and put number one before two; himself before anything else. In that video he said how we can watch old videos or watch someone else’s videos and that he’ll be back and that sweetheart was still working himself up about us. He was worried if we were going to be okay and that’s the sweetest and purest thing ever and I’m sure we all appreciate that whole heartedly; but we want you to be the best version of yourself like you urge us to be Seán.

You’re an incredible human being and deserve so much for what you’ve done for so many other people. You deserve the universe in my eyes and I really hope you get everything you wish for because you’re such a sweet and kind and genuine person and I’m so proud of you for coming out on top and putting yourself first and looking after yourself and not worrying about anything but you. You’re incredible and I swear to any god- you are my absolute role model and when you took a break I finally came to the realisation that if I want to get better; I need to work to get better, not sit back and watch someone else do it for me. So thank you so so much Seán- you’re a life saver and I honestly don’t know where I would be if I hadn’t have watched that single video in my darkest of times. Without you and the community, I wouldn’t be who I am today and for that I am so super thankful- welcome back @therealjacksepticeye ,it’s amazing to have you back and I love you 💚💚💚

#jack #jacksepticeye #jse #jse community

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bunnyeunbin · 6 years

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Wrote a small paper on how kind hearted and amazingly talented Daniel Radcliffe is.

Daniel Jacob Radcliffe Gresham. Who is he? Why is this name important and why should we know who this person is? Many don’t know him by his name, but of another. Harry Potter. Yes, Daniel Radcliffe brought the character Harry to life in all seven installments. He was chosen to play this iconic role at the age of 11 (Might i mention he was in the bathtub when he was made aware he got the part?) and his life was never the same again. His parents were reluctant at first of him obtaining such role, but up to this day, his parents must be immensely proud of him. Everyone knows him for his role in Harry Potter and they love his work on the films but if i persay were to mention or ask someone if they knew Daniel Radcliffe, unfortunately not many would know. I once asked a colleague of mine if they had seen any of Daniel Radcliffe’s movies like ‘What If’. What If is a movie about a medical dropout by the name of Wallace (Daniel Radcliffe) who falls for his new friend Chantry, who is an aspiring artist, but must be kept in the friendzone because she has a boyfriend. Anyway, When i asked my colleague if she’d seen it the first thing she said was, “Who’s Daniel Radcliffe?”. Being a Radcliffe fan, i was quite taken aback with her question, so i decided to try the cliché way to describe him. “He was Harry Potter in the movies” i replied and i immediately saw realization dawn on her face. It’s quite sad how not many know him as more than just one role he played and believe me, i understand why. It was such an iconic and major role that was known to the whole world and many only know him as just Harry Potter. He certainly changed many lives and gave many lovely childhoods with the films. Many grew with him and admire his performance in those films, which makes me utterly happy. What upsets me is that they sometimes only know him as such. “Harry Potter this… Harry Potter that.” Now, he may have played that role, but he’s not Harry. He’s Daniel Radcliffe. He’s a multi talented actor who not only has portrayed every role he’s played with such uniqueness, but he’s also extremely kind hearted and with a bubbly spirit. There are many examples to backup all these characteristics. Let’s start off with his big heart. In 2009, Daniel Radcliffe began to film PSA’s for The Trevor Project, which is an organization that promotes awareness of gay teen suicide prevention. Since then, he’s contributed and helped many learn more about the organization. He’s supported various charities as well. Demelza House Children’s Hospice is one of them. He has urged many to donate and give there, having received various offers of christmas gifts. He’s donated glasses to an exhibit honoring victims of the holocaust, and also donated money to Get Connected UK. These acts of kindness are what the world needs more of. He’s among many celebrities with such a heart and personality. One of the things that touches me the most about Daniel is that whenever he meets fans who express their love and admiration for him, he’s humble about it. He’s not much to be drowned with compliments but that’s what makes him so humble and sweet. He encourages others to continue to fight any negativity in their lives and gives them the biggest of hugs. He takes time to take pictures and interact with as many fans as he can. His fans are important to him as he is important to his fans. It’s heartwarming. Most importantly, i think Daniel Radcliffe deserves to be recognized for his film work as well. Besides Harry Potter, Daniel has taken many risks in terms of films, plays, and tv shows. In 1999, Daniel first appeared on the big screen as young David Copperfield. It’s a commonly known film about a famous magician. In 2001, right before potter, Daniel starred in the film The Tailor of Panama which is about an ex-con who becomes a tailor to the most powerful of panama and he’s famously known for his storytelling as well as his fancy suits but trouble arises as he ultimately destroys everything he values in life. Daniel then appeared in the famous potter films starting from 2001-2011. In between filming the movies, he starred in other films as well. For instance, He did a movie called My Boy Jack, which was generally about his character in the war, WWI specifically, and he goes missing as his parents look for him. He then starred in a movie called December Boys, which was about four teenage orphans who have the mentality that they will never be adopted, until one day they are sent to a seaside vacation where they meet a lovely couple hoping to take one into adoption. Daniel also did some plays such as Equus and How to Succeed in Business Without Even Trying in midst of the Potter films. Although i never had the chance to personally see these plays live, i’ve read great reviews on them and seen pictures of Dan meeting fans after the shows. Many have said how amazed they are seeing Daniel dive into different personas and making them his own. In other words, he uniquely adds his own touch to the roles he plays and gives them life. This continues to be true. After Potter, Daniel quickly threw himself onto different genres of films, starring with his horror movie The Woman in Black, which is mainly about a widowed lawyer who is sent to put a deceased woman’s affiliations in order but he soon realizes the village hides a dark secret. He definitely grows from Potter as an actor by taking such a role. It truly was the beginning of a new era for him in his career. Then he does three films in 2013, one called Horns by Joe Hill, a rom-com What if (as described earlier), and Kill Your Darlings. Horns is about a man who is accused of killing his girlfriend and who then mysteriously grows horns, which causes everyone to reveal their darkest and most sinful secrets. Did i mention Daniel talked in an american accent throughout the film? Kill your Darlings is about Allen Ginsberg, an american poet who many have come to admire. All three films are completely different genres, yet our beloved actor amazingly portrays them all. In the midst of these films he starred in a tv series called A Young Doctor’s Notebook as well, where he plays a younger version of the doctor (portrayed by John Hamm) and it takes place in Moscow, Russia. In 2014, he took on the play The Cripple Of Inishmaan (Which i couldn’t see either… ) where he does an irish accent. In this play, Daniel has to maintain the position of a crippled man, his arm positioned in one certain way throughout the entirety of the play. True dedication. In 2015, Daniel starred in the movie Victor Frankenstein, where he takes on the role of igor. Here’s the plot twist. This movie is seen by igor’s point of view and how he comes to know Victor Frankenstein. No spoilers, but Daniel’s character starts off as one way and he evolves into another. A complete transformation. Then, on November 12, 2015 something extraordinary happened. Daniel Radcliffe was awarded a Hollywood Star of Fame. Yes, this is HUGE everyone. This day was honestly one of my happiest days, for our british star was awarded a memorable recognition for all of his hard work and achievements. He looked the absolute happiest that day, receiving many cheers and congratulations. He truly deserved it after how much of an actor he had grown since he first started his career. All those years of hard work were well appraised. The following year, 2016, i think was Daniel’s biggest year yet. He had filmed 3 films and starred in another play: Swiss Army Man, Now You See Me 2, Imperium, and the play Privacy. Let me start off with Swiss Army Man first because i feel it was unappreciated and snubbed of an Oscar. In this movie, Daniel plays a farting corpse who grows a bond with Hank, a man who ran away and was washed onto an island lost for an extensive period. This film gives off many emotions: Sad, happy, confused, comedic, you name it. Daniels had created an unique but exceptional film, yet i felt it didn’t gain the proper admiration. Dan’s next film is Now You See Me 2, which is a sequel to Now You See Me, about magicians. Imperium is about a FBI agent who goes undercover as a white supremacist to further investigate the acts of the KKK and other supremacist activities. Dan’s play Privacy was all about technology and how the government uses our information, potentially risking our securities. In 2017, Daniel did a film and another play: Jungle and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. The movie Jungle is based off of a real story, particularly the author’s. Yossi Ghinsberg tells the story of how he went to Bolivia and got lost in the Amazon Jungle as he struggles for survival. In my opinion, this is another film that deserved to air worldwide. Daniel’s performance was out of this world. If you watch this film, you can truly feel all the emotions he’s trying to portray. It almost feels like you’re actually there, observing as this man struggles to survive but you can’t do anything about it. It creates a sense of worry and suspense, definitely leaving you on the edge of your seat. Truly an amazing film. Daniel also starred in a play called Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead which is basically about the two characters in the play Hamlet written by Shakespeare. I actually had the chance to see this play but i didn’t get to see it live. I watched it in a local theater nearby. I would’ve loved to see it live and maybe meet Daniel in person but i can say that that play was hilarious, entertaining, and just wonderful. Daniel’s performance, once more, blew me away. It takes true talent to do plays like this because they require much repetition for the next 2 months or so and it takes much energy. But in the end, the play is a must see. For those now intrigued with what Daniel will do next, he’s finished working on a tv show called Miracle Workers, where basically he will be playing an angel who tries his best to stop God from destroying the universe after having doubts whether it’s worth saving. It’s a comedic show and i look very much forward to it. There’ll also be a movie releasing on February 23rd of this year called Beast of Burden, which is about a drug dealer who has to deliver cargo full of drugs to a certain location within a time limit otherwise his wife’s life will end. It’ll be suspenseful and i can’t wait to see it. He’ll also be working on a movie called Guns Akimbo too, but more details to come. Now i know this paper has gotten to be quite long but before i end it, i’d like to share how Daniel has positively impacted my life. I was around 7-8 years old when i first saw Daniel on tv. My mom had changed the television to a channel where they were airing Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s stone. I’ll admit, when i first saw Harry, i instantly grew a crush on him. The boy with the round glasses and scar had captivated me. My mom found it quite endearing and funny that i had developed a crush at such an age. Ever since i saw that movie, i had asked my parents to show it to me again somehow and i’d grow happy when it aired on television. As the years passed by, i grew up with the potter films and of course Daniel Radcliffe himself. I’d watch the movies as they released in theaters and i’d buy all the movies too. In the midst of the passing years, as i reached middle school i had found comfort and solace in the potter films and Daniel Radcliffe. I was bullied the last two years of middle school by a girl i thought was my childhood best friend. She had started false rumors about me and tried to turn everyone against me. I’d go home crying, hurt. I wasn’t the type of person who was able to gain much friendships, not really knowing why, so i didn’t have pretty much anyone to recur to. Watching Harry Potter and Dan’s films had helped me through those hard times. They brought a smile to my face. Daniel was there for me when no one else was. He was and still is my source of strength. High school came. Luckily the bullying had stopped but i was faced with more solitude. I continued to not have any friends and as a result i became depressed. I felt like i wasn’t accepted anywhere, like i was a nobody in that school. I had gained a couple friends but they quickly left me. The only time i truly felt like i had someone was when watching Daniel’s movies and interviews, listening to his words of reassurance and his experiences in his life as an actor. I was able to get through it all with Dan by my side. I don’t think i’ll ever have enough words to thank Daniel Radcliffe for all he’s done. Up to this day, he still continues to be my ray of sunshine. He’s there for me and when i feel depressed, anxious, or when i need something to motivate me. I know i can always count on him. As i conclude this, I’d like to express once more how incredibly talented and kind hearted Daniel is. For all those lucky fans out there who have gotten the opportunity to meet him, i am truly happy for you. I can see your happiness and fondness when i look at all the fan pictures. I won’t lose hope that someday i’ll have a picture with Daniel. I can’t wait for Daniel’s future endeavors film-wise and he’ll always have my support, as well as the love his fans have for him.

#daniel radcliffe

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nataliecarsonsuniverse · 4 years

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Say You Will Remember Me (Part 4)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Summary: 2016: Spencer has just gotten married to (Y/n), the girl of his dreams. The two navigate their new life together as they work through his demanding job and a stalker that just won't leave them alone.

2018: Wendy and Peter have been hiding out in Maine for nearly a year now from Wendy's abusive ex. The two are just starting to settle into the new lives that they hope to spend with each other.

2020: After two years of searching for his missing wife, (Y/n) and Spencer are brought back together again. However, things take a turn for the worse as Spencer realizes that she is no longer the same girl he married.

2015 November

Washington D.C.

“Spencer!” (Y/n) whined from the bathroom as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her neck and chest were absolutely covered in hickeys while her wrists each had several bruises from the night before. “I told you no marks.” She said as he walked into the bathroom taking a look at her reflection in the mirror before he wrapped his arms around her from behind nuzzling his face into her neck.

“I’m sorry.” He said and with any other guy she would be absolutely pissed right now but she knew Spencer meant it when he said that he was sorry. “I got a bit carried away.”

“Clearly,” (Y/n) said. “God I’m going to look so unprofessional in front of these parents today.” She ran her fingers over the bruises on her neck while he left the bathroom retreating into the bedroom to grab something. Once he was out of sight she allowed herself to smile as she looked at them. She was mad without a doubt but there was also a small part of her that loved that she could see just how much she drove him crazy.

“Why don’t you have any turtle necks?” He shouted from the bedroom.

“Because I don’t like them.” She yelled back.

Spencer then came back into the bathroom holding up an infinity scarf. “Would this work?”

“It will be better than nothing,” (Y/n) responded by taking the scarf from him. She then reached down into the cabinet to pull out her makeup bag as she applied a ridiculous amount of concealer all over her neck hoping that it wouldn’t be obvious what she was trying to hide. Once she was finished and got dressed ready to go for the day, she slipped the scarf on. “How does it look?”

“Shit.” He said. “I’m sorry (Y/n) .”

“Oh my gosh does it look that bad?” (Y/n) shrieked at him turning in the mirror to see that it was still pretty obvious that they were there. “You’re the fucking worst.” She said to him.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated and she laughed slightly easing his nerves. “I just got carried away when I remembered that you actually agreed to marry me.”

(Y/n) smiled, her eyes tearing up slightly as she remembered the two of them walking down Tidal Basin last night when he got down on one knee and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. It was adorable how nervous he was and last night as she laid in his arms he confessed that he didn’t really expect her to say yes. Which she promptly reminded him “for a genius, my genius is pretty dumb.”

“It will be fine,” (Y/n) said, kissing him once, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m not seeing any students today, it’s just parents, everyone in the room will be an adult today. It’s going to be embarrassing as fuck, but not the end of the world.” She said looking at herself in the mirror one more time adjusting the scarf. “And the scarf hides it well enough that no one is going to really notice unless they are looking for it.”

Spencer nodded hoping that she was right. He glanced at the clock before realizing just how late it had gotten. “You should go or else you’re going to be late.”

(Y/n) nodded before kissing him one last time. “Call me if you end up having to leave?” She asked to hope that he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice. She didn’t want him to leave, at least not yet. She wanted just a few more days where the two of them could live in this little bubble without any distractions from the outside world.

“Of course,” Spencer said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” (Y/n) responded, grabbing her bag and heading out the door blowing him one last air kiss before she went. Outside in the hall, she broke out in the widest smile as she realized just how happy she was.

Late August 2017

Washington D.C.

It was three am when Spencer woke up gasping for air his throat abnormally dry. He sat up in bed grabbing the sheets trying to ground himself. “Spence,” (Y/n) whispered, rolling over and reaching out for him.

“It’s okay babe.” He responded reaching down and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Spence,” (Y/n) said again and the way she said made his heartbreak. She reached out and grabbed onto his arm and as much as he was trying to ground himself by grabbing the sheets it did nothing compared to her touch.

“It was just a dream,” Spencer whispered to her knowing that she wasn’t really awake and in the morning she would have no recollection of this conversation. “I’m just going to get some water.” He finished climbing out of bed. As soon as he did he watched as she curled up into herself gripping tightly to the warm sheets that he had just left behind.

The cold air of the apartment felt nice against his clammy skin as he walked down the hall toward the kitchen. He flicked on the hallway light as he walked stopping dead in his tracks when he noticed the white envelope slipped under the door. He stared at it hoping that maybe if he just pretended it wasn’t there it would go away. This was the eleventh envelope he had received since the first one. There was one for every month. Each envelope contained an ominous threat and several pictures of him. As the months have passed there have been more and more pictures indicating that this unsub was escalating. Till there was no trace of who he might be or why he might be targeting Spencer. The BAU has been keeping a close eye on it but it was still unnerving.

This one particular though was unnerving to him because it was the first envelope dropped off when he was at home. All the other ones had been dropped off when he was away on the case, but this one was dropped sometime in the last three hours. (Y/n) and he had gone to bed around midnight and when they had gone to bed there had been no envelope.

He picked the envelope up off the floor walking over to the kitchen where he got himself a glass of water. He then took a deep breath resting his elbows on the counter putting his head down on his arms. After a few minutes, he picked himself up and opened the envelope dumping the contents out on the counter. What he saw however when the photos landed had him running over the to sink and emptying the contents of his stomach.

There were twelve pictures this time, the most that had ever come in an envelope. And this time they weren’t just pictures of them out doing their daily routine. These pictures were taken from inside the house. There were pictures of him and (Y/n) laying on the couch, laying in bed, in the bathroom, the kitchen, everywhere. Spencer threw up again.

Once he felt settled enough to move away from the sink he walked back over and read the note carefully. “You think you can hide from me?” It asked. “I know exactly what you’ve done and you will pay for your sins. Soon.” Shaking Spencer picked up the pictures looking through them trying to contain his stomach. A part of him felt weak for throwing up over this. He spent all day looking at dead bodies and yet a few pictures was causing him to empty his stomach twice? Then again though he thought that at least deserved the right to feel this way.

These pictures instantly brought the dream that had him leaving the comfort of his bed unable to contain the sobs that wracked his body. He had a dream that he lost (Y/n) the same way that he lost Maeve and he just couldn’t handle that. Not again. In his dream, the stalker had become irate at Spencer for whatever reason and decided to take it out against (Y/n). He dreamed of finding her in an alley, her body covered with burns and bruises. He dreamed of her screaming out his name as she was brutally tortured and yet there was nothing he could do to save her. He couldn't lose her. He just couldn’t.

Knowing that he was going to have to make a call to the BAU at this point, Spencer flipped through the pictures until he found the one that he was looking for. The one that he was not interested in anyone seeing. It was of the two of them in the bedroom very clearly having sex. It was destroying evidence and he knew that but what difference would it make? It was one picture and the idea of everyone on his team seeing and then of it being logged into evidence was more horrifying than losing his job over destroying evidence. So he took the photo and ripped it up before putting it down the garbage disposal.

He looked at the time trying to decide if it was too late to call everyone. It was after 3:30 in the morning and while this could probably wait until morning light, the idea of being in their house knowing there were cameras everywhere made him want to get sick again. The unsub could be watching him right now for all he knew.

But then he remembered (Y/n) who was sound asleep in the next room over if he called them all right now, his house was no doubt going to turn into a crime scene, everyone would be over here combing over every centimeter of this place. There was no way that she would be able to just stay in the bedroom sleeping through all that. And maybe it was wrong, but he wasn’t quite ready to tell her what was going on. He didn’t want to worry her, she was always worried about him and he didn’t want to add more to it. Nor did he want her to feel unsafe in their home.

So that made his decision for him, he would call them first thing tomorrow morning and ask that they come over to his house instead of going to the office, then they could find all the cameras and figure out how the unsub got into the apartment.

Spencer shut off all the lights in the house praying that the camera did not have night time vision as he headed back to their bedroom. He pulled the blinds in the room blocking out any kind of light before he crawled back into bed. He then pulled the blanket over (Y/n) who was laying there in only one of his t-shirts. The idea that this unsub might have compromising pictures of her made his blood boil. So he did the best he could to cover her with the blanket before pulling her into his arms and holding her as tight as he could.

“Spence.” she murmured again into his collarbone, her hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as he rubbed her back. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing baby.” He responded. “Nothing,” he said again. “It’s all going to be okay.” He whispered almost more for his sake than hers. His eyes remained glued wide open while she peacefully dozed off against his chest. It was going to be okay he promised himself one more time.

2015 November

Washington D.C.

Peter and Aimee walked down the long corridor of the school where Tim went. “This is all your fault,” Aimee said bitterly as they continued to walk down toward the classroom where they were to meet Tim’s teacher Ms.Watson. “You’re a bad influence on him.” Aimee continued. “I’m tired of constantly having to hear about how Time is misbehaving in class.”

“We don’t know that that is what she’s going to say,” Peter said back the anger evident in his voice. “They are having parent-teacher conferences with everyone you know?”

“Oh, I’m sure that she’s about to tell us he’s an angel. Is that really what you think?” Aimee asked him as they stopped outside the door continuing to bicker until Ms.Watson opened the door for the two of them to come in.

“Hi.” Ms.Watson greeted the two of them and Peter froze as soon as he laid eyes on her. The resemblance was uncanny. If she were just a few years older he would swear that they were twins. “You guys must be Timmy’s parents.” Peter and Aimee both nodded as Ms.Watson opened the door to let them both into the room. “My name is Ms.Watson but please call me (Y/n). Please come on in.” Peter just stood there in the doorway staring at (Y/n) trying to convince himself that his eyes were betraying him. They had to be related.

Aimee elbowed Peter breaking him from his trance momentarily as they all entered the classroom. (Y/n) showed them Tim’s desk but Peter didn’t catch a word that she said. All he could think about was Wendy. He had never seen someone who looked so much like her. Even the way she talked sounded like Wendy. She had that southern drawl that he remembered all too well. Wendy was from South Carolina so when she showed up in Nevada it was her accent that got her the most amount of attention.

“Do you have any siblings?” Peter blurted out before he could stop himself. Was it possible that she shared a parent with Wendy? He never really knew what happened to Wendy’s mom after the incident. It was possible that she moved out here and had another daughter. The timeline checked out.

“I do,” (Y/n) said, clearly taken aback. Peter wasn’t sure what she was talking about before but it was clear that the question came out of the blue. He didn’t miss the glare that Aimme shot him but he also just didn’t care.

“Sister, brother?” Peter asked.

This time Aimee did step in. “Peter.” She said. “Does this have anything to do with Tim?” Aimee asked. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“No it’s okay,” (Y/n) responded, flashing a smile. “I do, I have a brother and a sister.”

“How old is your sister?” Peter asked before he could stop himself.

“She would've been 35 this year,” (Y/n) responded.

“Would’ve been?”

“Peter!” Aimee yelled at her husband glancing over at (Y/n) trying to offer a sympathetic smile. “You really don’t have to answer him.” She said again. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into him.”

“Honestly it’s fine,” (Y/n) said. “She was murdered before I was born. I never knew her.”

Peter felt his entire world stop. Here he was in a classroom for his son’s parent-teacher conference and now the woman in front of him was telling him that she was Wendy’s little sister. His Wendy. He stared at her in awe as all the memories of Wendy came rushing back to him. He remembered sitting on the swings with her at recess talking about anything and everything. How he always shared his sandwich with her at lunch because her parents forgot to pack her one. He remembered the day he first felt his heartbreak when he saw her kissing Patrick Owen outside in the school quad and she dug the knife even deeper when she told him that she only saw him as a friend and then when he heard her friends talking and she told them that the idea of kissing him was revolting.

But then there was the day when he felt a part of himself die. Sitting in the homeroom staring at the empty desk while the principal stood in front of the class trying to explain to them that Wendy would not be coming back. That she had died two days ago. That grief counseling would be offered to any student who felt they needed it. They were twelve years old. He was twelve years old when he watched them lower the small casket into the ground. They said she was gone. But yet here she was sitting right across from him talking about his son.

He tried to listen the best he could, he really did. But his eyes started to wander her face down her neck when he saw the bruises she was trying to cover up. He stared at each of them, poorly covered by makeup hidden below a scarf. It was almost like she wanted someone to notice them. Like she wanted him to notice them. And he did. He noticed them and this time he could save her. He wasn’t going to lose her like he did Wendy.

Peter had spent so long wondering how he missed the signs, how did he not see that Wendy was being abused. She always wore long sleeves even when it was one hundred degrees outside. She was careful to hide her body from prying eyes. Then there was how timid she became around older men, especially father figures. For so long he blamed himself, he could’ve helped her. He could've saved her from a piece of shit dad who one night had a little too much to drink and threw her down the stairs before coming down to finish the job. Twelve years old.

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Aimee said looking at the ring that (Y/n) was holding across the table. “Where does he work and what will your last name be?”

“Reid, he’s an FBI agent actually.” (Y/n) answered and that’s when it hit Peter that her fiance was abusing her. Judging from the ring, Peter would say that the fiance was pretty well off which meant that (Y/n) probably felt trapped in the relationship. She needed help he thought to himself and this time he was not going to drop the ball. He was going to save his Wendy this time, he would not lose her again. Aimee said something else but Peter completely turned her out only focusing on Wendy, (Y/n) corrected himself.

So while (Y/n) and Aimee discussed Tim, Peter sat there watching her closely formulating a plan to save her, it would take time no doubt, maybe even years, if her fiance was an FBI agent this plan would have to be perfect so that he could never find them. And while it scared Peter to let her live with him for more than another week he also knew that he could keep close tabs on her and if things started escalating and he thought that she was in danger he could take her a moment. It’s just not what he would prefer to do. Peter watched as (Y/n) cracked a smile at something Aimee said and for the first time since Wendy was buried. Peter thought that everything was going to be okay.

Late August 2017

Washington D.C.

“This is clear escalation,” Hotch said looking at the pictures while standing in Spencer’s kitchen. Spencer had called the team as soon as (Y/n) left for the day. He hadn’t slept since he found the pictures and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to for a while either. How was he supposed to sleep in his home when he knew that there were cameras in every room just watching him.

Garcia was walking around the house with a device that would let her know whenever she was near a listening or recording device. “There’s one over here.” She called the team motioning to the entertainment center in the living room.

Reid and Morgan both made their way over there while the rest of the team stood around Spencer’s kitchen island studying the photos and the note. In the living room, both Spencer and Derek started pulling things off the entertainment center looking for the bug that had been planted.

“Here it is,” Derek said grabbing a picture frame off of one of the shelves. Spencer grabbed it from Morgan covering the camera with his thumb as he looked at the frame, it was just a simple black frame that held a picture of him and (Y/n) from their wedding. “Does this look like the original frame?” Derek asked.

“Exactly,” Spencer said, recalling standing in Hobby Lobby with (Y/n) as they looked at frames. After a while of debating they had both agreed to just go with the simple frames, nothing special but they kind of liked it like that. Derek nodded as Spencer put the picture frame in the ever-growing pile of bugs that had been hidden around his house.

“I think that’s all of them in the living room,” Penelope said. “And we got all the ones out of the kitchen.” Spencer nodded. “Bedroom or bathroom next?” She asked.

“Bathroom,” Spencer responded wanting to avoid his co-workers going through his bedroom as much as possible, plus he hasn’t used the bathroom here since last night. This morning he had lied and told (Y/n) that it was broken and that she wasn’t going to be able to use it. He claimed that he was going to call someone. In reality, though he just couldn’t stand the idea of her in there showering with someone watching her. It made his blood boil just thinking about how long those cameras might have been in there and just how much this unsub might have seen.

Garcia nodded as he followed her into the bathroom. She took the device and started scanning around. “I’ve got two of them in here.” She said as she and Spencer started going through everything. After looking at every object the two of them faced each other exasperated looks on their face. So far all the buses had been placed in objects but why was this room different?

Spencer looked around the room imagining himself as the unsub trying to decide where to safely hide cameras in a bathroom. It would have to be somewhere where they would never look while also still having a decent angle for watching. Spencer’s eyes traveled up the walls locking onto the vent on the ceiling. Without giving it a second thought he reached up and pulled the vent off the wall feeling around inside the ceiling and sure enough, he pulled out a small little camera.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Penelope said.

“I’ve already thrown up three times,” Spencer responded.

“We’ve still got one more in here.” She replied as Spencer left the bathroom to put the little camera with the pile of others that would be taken into evidence after Garcia disabled them all. Walking back into the bathroom he took a deep breath trying to assure himself that it was all going to be okay. “I think I found it,” Penelope said.

“Where?” Spencer asked thankfully that she found it because he really didn’t know where to look next.

Garcia pointed at the mirror before saying “The reflection is slightly distorted, I don’t think this is the original mirror that you guys bought.”

Spencer nodded, pulling the mirror off the wall. “So how do we see if you’re right?” He asked.

“We smash it,” Emily said now standing outside the doorway. She then took the mirror from him before heading out into the living room. She set the mirror down on the floor before turning to Spencer. “Do you have a hammer?” She asked and he nodded before disappearing to go get it.

When he came back he handed it to Emily and watched as she smashed the mirror to pieces, glass going everywhere on the hardwood floor but then sure enough there was the camera hiding behind the glass. “Wow.” She said after a moment. “This guy is intense.”

Spencer, Garcia, JJ, and Emily then retreated to the bedroom to find the last of the bugs hidden in the apartment. Spencer stood off to the side watching idly as his coworkers tossed every drawer in the room, every nook and cranny they searched until they had all four cameras. Spencer tried to keep his stomach settled as he realized that this unsub had angles of every single inch of the bedroom. He had seen everything. Spencer thought to himself. On the way out of the room, JJ gave Spencer a pat on the shoulder knowing that this was incredibly difficult.

“Alright, so what do we know?” Hotch asked as everyone joined again in the living room.

“This seems to be really personal,” Derek said. “This unsub clearly thinks that Reid has done something wrong and needs to pay for said thing.”

“He’s got a hero complex,” Prentiss added. “ I know what you’ve done. I will make sure you pay. It sounds like he is going to take matters into his own hands.”

“So maybe he thinks that you hurt someone Spence,” JJ said. “Like maybe he’s related somehow to unsub who you had to take down.”

“Maybe.” Emily agreed. “But this seems more personal than it needs to be. He wants you to know that you’re not safe anywhere, that he’s always watching you. It almost implies that he thinks you are still doing something bad.”

“Rossi?” Aaron asked. “you’ve been awfully quiet, what are you thinking?”

The teams turned their attention to Rossi who was currently still over at the kitchen island examining the pictures closely. “What if this isn’t about Reid?” He asked.

“All the letters have been addressed to him.” Morgan countered.

“Yes, but look at these pictures,” Rossi said as everyone made their way over the counter. “Almost all of them have (Y/n) in them.”

“She lives here,” Morgan said.

“I know but it seems to be more than that,” Rossi responded. “She doesn't look happy in any of these. In half of them, it looks like she’s crying and in the other half she looks nervous or almost scared.”

“That’s ridicu-” Derek started but Rossi cut him off.

“I’m not saying that I think she’s not happy here. She clearly is. I’m just saying it can’t be a coincidence that this unsub was watching all the time but only chose to put pictures where (Y/n) looked unhappy in the envelope.

“Do you recognize any of these pictures?” Hotch asked Reid and he nodded.

“Some of them.” He said reaching across the counter he picked up where (Y/n) was sitting on the bathroom toilet sobbing. “This one here was when she had a negative pregnancy test.” He put it in a pile before grabbing another one. “This one,” he said, picking up a photo where (Y/n) was curled into a ball on their bed. “When we got called on an emergency to go to New York at three in the morning, she was upset that I was leaving in the middle of the night.” the team nodded as Spencer picked up the last two photos that he recognized. The first was of the two of them at dinner at a nice restaurant. (Y/n) was wearing a little black dress and one of his cardigans over it. He couldn’t quite remember why she was wearing the cardigan, was it that the restaurant was cold? The other picture was from the same night only this one was taken in their bathroom, she had ditched the cardigan and was looking at her reflection in the mirror while crying. And then just like that, it hit him why she was wearing his cardigan. “He thinks that I’m abusing her,” he said quietly.

“What?” JJ all but shouted. “Spence, how could he think that?”

Spencer put the picture of the two pictures down on the counter. “These were taken the same night.” He said. “She’s wearing the cardigan in the restaurant about four days before she had been in a pretty bad car accident down in Georgia, she had a lot of bruises and a pretty bad rash from where the seat belt had cut into her.”

“That’s why you drove to Georgia in the middle of the night,” Garcia said, all of a sudden.

“Yeah.” He said. “She was admitted overnight to the hospital because they thought that she might have a concussion.”

“The bruises themself aren’t really too obvious in this photo,” JJ said. “I can see some discoloration but I wouldn’t immediately jump to the idea of bruises.”

“But he’s been watching,” Reid said. “He saw her come home with all these bruises, saw her struggle to lay down at night because she was in so much pain, hell he even watched her cry in the shower because the water burnt the cuts so bad.”

“Sure” JJ agreed. “But he also would’ve seen you there to take care of her I assume.” Spencer nodded.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Hotch said. “He had already made up his mind that she was being abused. Plus we all know that the abusers will often take care of their significant other after they hit them.” They all nodded.

“So just to recount, this unsub thinks (Y/n) is being abused and that’s why he keeps saying that Reid needs to pay for what he’s done.”

“Right,” Hotch said. “I don’t think it’s safe for you and (Y/n) to stay here. This unsub has made it into this house before without being detected, he knows your guy’s schedules, he knows just about everything there is to know about you too. Where is (Y/n) now?”

“She’s at school.” He responded to the panic rising in his throat. “Where are we supposed to go?”

“There’s a safe house out in Maryland that we can transfer you guys to tonight. Since she is in a school I would say that she’s pretty safe there, we will let her finish her day, and then we will pick her up and take you guys to the house.”

“What about work? I mean can we both still work?”

“I’m sorry,” Hotch said. “I think that the best thing we can do is have you guys hideout for a little bit. We need to go to the BAU though because he is going to know that we are onto him if he doesn’t already.”

“Wait Hotch, this is crazy.”

“Spencer,” Aaron said sternly. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but you’ve already lost one girlfriend to a stalker, do you really want to take any chances?” Spencer shook his head no realizing that Hotch was right, he would do anything to protect (Y/n), he wasn’t going to lose her like he lost Maeve.

----

2020 January

Washington D.C.

Louise dropped (Y/n) off at the therapist’s office as she did every Thursday for the past three months. She pulled up outside the building putting the car in the park before looking over at (Y/n). Wordlessly she grabbed (Y/n) ’s hand and gave it a squeeze to let her know that she would be just right outside. (Y/n) returned a small smile before getting out of the car and heading into the small brick building.

Dr.Adams was waiting inside the office and (Y/n) smiled at her as she walked into the small room. She took a seat on the couch just like she always did neatly folding her legs waiting while Dr.Adams got her file ready for the hour appointment.

“How have you been (Y/n) ?” Dr.Adams, Abigail as she insisted (Y/n) call her, asked.

“Much better.” (Y/n) responded honestly.

“That’s good to hear,” Abigail said as she flipped through her files as if to remind herself what they had discussed last time. (Y/n) had a hard time believing that she was not her most interesting patient. She was a twenty-nine-year-old woman in love with the man who held her captive while maintaining that her husband was abusing her. “How is living with Lousie going?”

“Pretty good.” (Y/n) replied. “I sometimes feel bad.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know.” (Y/n) responded, earning a knowing glance from Abigail. (Y/n) then took a deep breath to continue. “I sometimes feel like I’m invading her space. I mean she has a fiance and is planning a wedding. I don’t want her to have to worry about me or have to live around me.”

“Has Louise given any indication that she felt that way?” Abigail asked and (Y/n) shocked her head no. “Louise is your best friend, when I have talked to her she has expressed nothing but love for you. I know that she has your best interest at heart.”

“I know that.” (Y/n) said. “I mean deep down I know that she doesn't care that I’m living with her, it’s just that she’s getting married in March and so I’m feeling some anxiety about where I am going to live come March.”

“Understandable.” Abigail agreed. “Have you talked any more to Spencer?” She asked implying that she had talked to Spencer at all. (Y/n) knew what she was getting at and didn’t like it one bit. She was hoping that come March maybe (Y/n) would be ready to move back in with Spencer, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“No.” (Y/n) responded. “I don’t want to see him.” She added.

“(Y/n),” Abigail said. “The goal of these sessions is to get you adjusted back to your normal life, your normal life which included being happily married to Spencer.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment thinking through everything that had happened. It felt like her brain was just one big pile of mush sometimes. “I’m scared.” She finally whispered tears springing to her eyes.

“Tell me why.” Abigail prompted. “You don’t have to do this alone, there are tons of people surrounding you who would be more than happy to hold your hand and help you cross this bridge. What you are going through is incredibly difficult and asking for help is not a weakness.”

(Y/n) nodded once understanding that what she was saying was true. “I’m still scared of him.” She said after a moment as Abigail handed her a box of tissues which she gratefully accepted. “I know that he didn’t abuse me. I know that he loves me. But there is some wire in my brain that is crossed and telling me to be afraid of him and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Abigail nodded jotting something down in her notes. “I know that it’s hard when your brain and heart are at war with each other. And it’s going to take some time. The kind of trauma that Peter induced was extended. And what you said about a wire being crossed is exactly what is happening. You know for a fact that Spencer never hurt you but yet you are associating memories of him with the pain that Peter caused you for those weeks back in September.” (Y/n) nodded sobbing slightly at the memory of the warehouse.

“I know that you claimed you’ve talked to him some but I also know that you’re lying.” (Y/n) tried to open her mouth to lie more and say that it wasn’t true and that she had talked to him but Abigail silenced her. “Meeting face to face is scary, I get it. But do you think that maybe you would be able to call him if you were in the comfort of your own home with Louise right there with you?”

“I don’t know,” (Y/n) said, feeling uneasy.

“It would be just his voice.” Abigail continued. “I know that your brain is trying to tell you that he’s going to hurt you, I know that’s why you lied and said you had met up with him when you hadn’t. If I had to have a guess I would say you drove all the way to the restaurant but then decided last minute you couldn’t do it.”

(Y/n) nodded remembering all too well that Friday night when they had agreed to go out for a late lunch. He picked a place ensuring she would be surrounded by people at all times. She had thought that she could do it, but then when she got to the parking lot her anxiety took over and she couldn't do it. The worst part was that she didn't’ even call him to let him know. She knew that he was upset because later that night Louise was talking on the phone with Derek when she thought (Y/n) wasn’t listening and she heard Derek tell Louise how heartbroken Spencer was when she didn't’ show up.

“Do you think you could call him? I believe in you (Y/n), I know that you want to, that your heart is telling you to call him and make it work.” She was right, when she heard Derek say that she broke Spencer’s heart she locked herself in the bathroom and cried for thirty minutes praying the sound of the shower would drown out her sobs.

“I think I can do that.” She said after a moment her voice sounded much stronger than she had expected.

“Excellent,” Abigail said, glancing down at her watch. “It looks like our time is up, I look forward to hearing about your conversation with him next week.” (Y/n) nodded thanking her before leaving and heading back out to Louise’s car.

“Hey you,” she said as (Y/n) opened up the passenger door. “How did it go?”

“Good.” (Y/n) responded. “I think I’m making progress.”

“That’s awesome. I knew that you would. If there is one word I would use to describe you, it would be resilient.” (Y/n) smiled at the compliment as Lousie glanced down at her phone. “Listen.” She said. “Do you think you would up for lunch with Derek at this cafe just downtown? If not I totally understand and I can let him know and I promise I won’t be upset. I’ve already told him that if we do we aren’t to discuss Spencer at all-”

“That sounds good.” (Y/n) said, cutting off her rambling. “But if it’s okay with you I would actually like to talk about Spencer.” She said slowly. Louise’s head snapped to look at (Y/n) and (Y/n) could’ve sworn that she was going to have whiplash now.

“You want to talk about him?” Louise questioned. “Wow you really are making progress,” she said and both girls laughed together as Louise put the car in drive and headed to the cafe.

----

Late August 2017

Washington D.C.

“Alright,” (Y/n) said. “Let’s try this one, 168 divided by 8.” She said as she wrote the long division problem on the board. “Alright so how many times does 8 go into 16?” She asked, turning to face the class. “Anna?”

“2” Anna responded looking pleased with herself.

“Good.” (Y/n) said smiling as she wrote a 2 on the problem. So then we can subtract 16 and we are left with 8, so how many times does 8 go into 8?” She asked as every kid in the room shouted out one. She laughed along with them before writing one next to the two. Alright, so the answer is 21 then. Does anyone have any questions on this problem?”

“Mrs.Reid?” (Y/n) turned her attention to the door where the school secretary was standing holding a giant vase of flowers. “These were dropped off for you.”

(Y/n) stared at them for a second, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said walking over to take the flowers before setting them down on her desk. “Go ahead and do the next problem class,” (Y/n) said as she opened the card that came with the flowers.

“Just a little something to let you know how special you are to me.” (Y/n) read the card smiling to herself at how sweet Spencer could be.

“Mrs.Reid?” Anna asked her hand raised high in the air.

“Yes?” (Y/n) asked.

“Are those from Mr.Reid?”

“They are.” (Y/n) responded.

“That’s so romantic,” Anna responded, and (Y/n) had to try her hardest to stifle a giggle. “How come he never comes in to see you? I heard from my friend Mia that Mrs.Blanch’s husband came in the other day with their daughter. Are we ever going to get to meet Mr.Reid?”

“Dr.Reid is very busy with his work Anna as you should be too.” (Y/n) pointed out walking over to see that Anna actually already had the whole sheet completed. Not surprising, (Y/n) thought to herself. Anna was definitely the smartest kid in the class. (Y/n) may or may not have had a soft spot for Anna as Anna is almost exactly how she imagined her and Spencer’s daughter to be.

“He’s a doctor?” Anna asked.

“Yes. That’s great that you’re done with these problems, so maybe you should get started on tonight’s homework?” Anna nodded quickly, pulling out her homework to start working on it. She would have it done in ten minutes no doubt.

(Y/n) returned up to her desk pulling out her phone to send a quick text message to Spencer thanking him for the beautiful flowers. She sent him a picture of the bouquet with the message card flipped open.

After the message was sent, (Y/n) got up to do another walk down the rows to make sure that none of the kids had any questions, they all seemed to be picking it up remarkably well which wasn’t surprising considering that (Y/n) taught that accelerated fourth graders of the private school.

When she returned to her desk she taped her phone to see that she had three text messages from Spencer. As she read them though her smile quickly faded from her face, panic rising in her throat at the tone of his messages.

“I didn’t send those.”

“Did you see who delivered them?”

“(Y/n) ?”

----

2020 January

Washington D.C.

It was 10 pm on Tuesday when (Y/n) finally worked up the courage to call Spencer. She wanted to do this, wanted to make Abigail proud, wanted her life back even if she no longer believed it to be possible to get her old life back. But still, calling him was a step in the right direction. Derek had told her that he stayed up pretty late at night reading, just like he used to she thought. He told her that she could call him at four am in the morning and he would still pick up the first ring for her.

So before she could talk herself out of it, (Y/n) hit the call button next to his name. She held her breath as the phone rang and cursed him that he did pick up on the first ring. She was slightly upset that he did as she needed just a few more seconds to decide what she was going to say to him. “Hi.” she barely whispered into the phone cringing at how weak her voice sounded.

“Hi.” He responded back almost sounding out of breath. She imagined him sitting on their couch with a book in his hands which has now been discarded on the coffee table. On the coffee table, she could picture his mug almost filled to the brim. It was strange to hear the way she could almost smell the house through the phone. It smelt of old books and coffee. She used to be able to smell his cologne lingering in the air and she wondered if he could still sometimes smell her if the draft from the open windows blew just right. “How are you?” he asked her.

“Pretty good.” She responded. “All things considered.”

“That’s great, (Y/n) .” He said back and she could hear the sadness in his voice that she knew she caused. No, she thought to herself, that Peter caused.

“Yeah,” she responded lamely the awkward silence killing her. It never used to be like this she thought bitterly. “How have you been?” She asked after a moment.

“Alright.” He responded but she could hear the subtext, ‘would be better if you were here with me’.

“I um.” (Y/n) stuttered on her words while her brain tried to decide if it’s a good idea to tell him this next piece. “I had lunch with Derek and Louise the other day.”

If he already knew this, which she was sure he did, he didn’t tell her that “How’d that go?” he asked. In her mind, Derek had called him the second they left the cafe and recounted every word that she had said. She could almost hear Spencer’s frustrated sigh when he had hung up the phone annoyed that Derek didn’t have an eidetic memory like him. “(Y/n) ?” Spencer asked softly and she had to pull the phone away from her face for a second so he wouldn’t hear the sob that erupted from her throat.

“Yeah.” She said. “I’m sorry, I’m here.” She took a deep breath opening her mouth to answer before she realized she had no idea what he asked her. “I’m sorry what did you say?”

He laughed slightly into the receiver and she couldn't help but laugh as well, she forgot how infectious his laugh was, the same could be said about his smile. Even now she had a small smile on her face imagining him sitting there smiling too. She wondered if he also had tears silently streaming down his face. “I asked how your lunch with Morgan was.”

“Right, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for ba- (Y/n) ”

“It was really nice.” (Y/n) said, almost apologizing again. She was slightly relieved that he cut himself off, she wasn’t sure that she was ready for him to start calling her “baby” again. “He um, said you don’t work at the BAU anymore?” she asks him.

“Yeah.” Spencer breathed out. “I still consult every once in a while and my phone still blows up with texts when they are out on a case, but no I’m not technically with them anymore.”

“He didn’t say what you are doing now?”

“I’m teaching full time. Part-time at the FBI academy and then part-time at Georgetown.”

“Oh wow.” (Y/n) said. “How come you decided to leave? You never really gave any indication of wanting to leave before. At least not seriously.”

“I was prepared to leave before,” Spencer said suddenly. “If um, we had uh had children I would’ve left.” (Y/n) poured her lips at the idea of what could’ve been. By now they probably would’ve had at least two kids running around. “But I left because it just got really hard. Even the cases that ended relativity well did not comfort me anymore because I just kept wondering why I could save them but not you. And so I quit and started teaching full time so that I could focus all of my energy on finding you.”

“Do you regret it?” She asked before she could stop herself. She needed to know. She couldn't stand living with the idea that he quit because of her and now he regrets it.

“I don’t,” he responded immediately. “I haven’t regretted it even for just a second.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) whispered so lightly that she wasn’t even sure he would be able to hear it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“How are you so calm?” She asked him. “I mean your wife who was missing for two years finally comes home but she’s so fucking afraid of you that she stands you up at restaurants and then only talks to you on the phone because her therapist assured her that a voice could not hurt her. I’m sitting here sobbing as quietly as I can and I don’t even miss you.”

“You think that I’m not crying right now?” Spencer asked her and then she heard it, the way that his voice slightly quivered as he spoke. The way she could hear sharp intakes of his breath over the line. “(Y/n) I have cried myself to sleep so many nights now that I’ve actually lost count. When you first disappeared I didn’t wash the sheets for two months because I could still smell you on them. Every night since you’ve been gone I have sprayed your pillowcase with your perfume and then fallen asleep burying my face into it because it made you seem closer.”

(Y/n) then choked on her own son not bothering to hide it anymore. She listened as he did the exact same thing. “I’m not calm (Y/n). But I also understand that you are scared of me and the best thing I can do is act as calmly as possible, as normal as possible, hoping and praying that it will jog your memory and your brain will stop telling you to be afraid of me. I spend so much time mentally preparing to let you go, to lose you all over again. One wrong move (Y/n) and now you’re gone for good.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered through tears.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” He said.

“Doesn't mean I can’t still be sorry.” She said glancing at the clock, they had been on the phone for nearly an hour and a half and this conversation has left her seriously drained. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Okay,” he responded. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“Maybe I can call you some other time this week?” She blurted out not even really realizing what she was doing.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding almost relieved. “I would like that very much.”

“Goodnight Spencer.”

“(Y/n) ?”

“Yeah?” she asked

“I uh. I um”

“I know.” She whispered. “I know.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds

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80068mimiwang · 4 years

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Mari Katayama – the gift of a universal body

Mari Katayama was born with tibial hemimelia and, at the age of 9, chose to have her legs amputated. She uses many handmade objets d’art in her art, many of which are modelled after various body parts.

Artist Mari Katayama has stunned viewers all over the world with her freshly unique and bold cross-media works, appearing in shows such as the Aichi Triennale 2013 and Roppongi Crossing 2016. Her mark on the modern art world earnt her a nomination for the Ihei Kimura Award in 2018. She exhibited an experimental body of work curated by artistic director Ralph Rugoff at the Venice Biennale in 2019 and won the Newcomer’s Award at the 35th Higashikawa International Photo Festival. Katayama has also announced, for this spring, a collection of her work thus far presented in a photobook, “GIFT”. Today, we have to opportunity to listen to her speak candidly about facing her circumstances head-on, and her idea of a universal body.

—What does your new photobook mean to you?

Katayama: If my life so far were a sentence, this book would be its full stop. It’s a nice way round up all the work I’ve done during this time. (laughs)

—I hear that the title, “GIFT” has a double meaning. Could you tell us more about that?

Katayama: There’s one work in particular that’s symbolic of this title, and it’s this heart-shaped objet d’art into which I’ve incorporated photographs of fingers. I printed photos of husband’s and my fingers onto fabric and made this objet d’art in the three months after giving birth. I think every woman who has experienced pregnancy realises that nothing is what it seems. Before we have a child, we just let the days go by without questioning the way that it is but now that there’s a child with us we have to look after it and worry for it.

During the pregnancy, it was fine if the baby didn’t have any fingers or feet. That’s just how things are, you know. But after I gave birth, I just had to check with the doctor straight away. I asked, “Does my baby have her fingers and feet?” I wanted my child to be born in perfectly good health, and part of me couldn’t stop worrying and thinking “but what if?” If worst came to worst, I’d want to have something to give to my daughter. Everyone is missing something, you know, but if my daughter felt bad for it I’d want her to know that she has the power to make up for whatever it is. I put all of those feelings that I felt as a parent into this objet d’art when I was making it.

However, after the exhibition I was showing it in ended, I looked at it with a new, calmer mindset. I thought to myself, “What would she even do with this?!” (laughs) She’d probably come to me all confused like, “Mum, what do I do with this?” It reminded me of how “gift” can also mean “poison” in German. Because poison is something you get given. It’s such a German way of thinking. The “gift” that I give my daughter for her sake might not even be to her liking. Realising that was a bit of a hard pill to swallow, so that’s why I chose “GIFT” as the title for my photobook.

—So with “GIFT” is the theme running throughout the book. Look back on your past work, what do you feel is particularly “gift”-like about it?

Katayama: As I am now, I no longer think of my past work as my cute little darlings like I did in the past. Although I am still the same human being, I feel that past me and present me are separate entities. Those works from my past self could even be “poison” to my present self. I’m sure my past self meant for those works to be a gift to my present self, but right now she finds them quite troublesome. (laughs) I am trying to accept them as best as I can, however.

—You have such a diverse way of realising your ideas in your art. Is photography particularly special to you?

Katayama: No, not particularly. All the work I’ve done so far were installations that incorporated both objets d’art and photography. Now that I’m releasing a photobook, the people who know what I do like to joke “oh, so you’re a photographer now, huh?” (laughs) I never had any professionals watch over me and teach me crafting or photography. I had some help getting my start but most of it has been self-taught. I also sing chanson sometimes, but even that I learnt from a jazz bar I used to work at. So photography isn’t particularly special to me or anything. I never introduce myself as a photographer, but “Hi, I’m an artist who dabbles in a lot of stuff” is too long.

—Could you tell us about how you got into making objets d’art?

Katayama: I think a big part of it can be attributed to my family members, who I’ve watched sew all my life. My great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother all sewed. I was clubfooted until the age of 9 so I couldn’t wear any ready-made children’s clothes, and my mother dressed me with her own clothes that she had altered to fit me. I used to always watch her alter these clothes and naturally I grew to want to sew, too. And still do now, of course, but I don’t think my mother likes my work very much. She’s always fussing over how rough and unprofessional the finishing is. (laughs)

—What made you want to release a photobook?

Katayama: For my installation at Roppongi Crossing 2016, I displayed every single objet d’art that I had. And because I did that, I feel like I was able to more wholeheartedly dedicate myself to photography. I then made three series of photographic works, found out I was pregnant, and my workflow and pace started to change and I was able to have more time to myself. I also started to wonder about the works I had let go of and what would become of them, and at that time someone mentioned something about a photobook. I thought that it would be a great chance for me to put them all together in one place and send them out on a new journey into the world.

—And you’ve got the works organised by the year they were made in, right?

Katayama: My oldest work was from when I was still in university. It was just a self portrait and I never really thought of it as a work of art back then.

I also used to draw and make objets d’art a lot back in high school, but I didn’t really think much of it back then. I started to want to show it to other people so I started uploading pictures of them onto social media like Myspace and Mixi. Shortly after, a stylist called Tatsuya Shimada asked if I would model in a fashion show with him. I accepted and had these drawing done on my artificial leg for that show. I was also encouraged to enter the Gunma Youth Biennale, and I also won an award there. I thought that just photographing my artificial leg by itself would be sort of confusing for viewers so I tried to take photos with it on, in a way that would explain to viewers what it was at the same time, and I ended up with these self portraits.

—Oh wow! So your start in photography was through social media? So you would’ve started using it around 2005. That’s quite early.

Katayama: My dad works in data processing so I got to familiarise myself with the internet quite early on. I made my first website using HTML when I was 15, and I still use it. That’s why it looks kind of outdated. (laughs) I went to a commercial high school because I wanted to get into IT. I never thought I would end up going to art school and becoming an artist.

—When did you start consciously taking self-portraits?

Katayama: To be honest, I still don’t call those photos self-portraits. It feels just as weird as calling myself a photographer, because the person in those portraits isn’t me. I just happen to be the only model that will do whatever I say and pose in the exact way I want.

Communicating with someone that isn’t me will always require verbal communication, and no matter how much understanding we can mutually reach it will never be exactly as I want. There’s always going to be a gap between what I want and how the model interprets it. The only time I became aware that I was taking a self portrait was when I was taking pictures of myself when I was pregnant, because that was when I specifically wanted to leave a photographic record of how I was in that moment.

—After your 2014 work you’re mine, you started to move from photographing inside your own house to outdoors. At the same time, you started doing more of your work in Gunma, right?

Katayama: I had my first solo gallery exhibition at TRAUMARIS | SPACE. Along with you’re mine, I also exhibited an objet d’art made of plaster in the shape of my own body. I went to my parent’s house once when I was making that work. Working with all that plaster was a lot of work and I needed a proper space to do it in, so I decided to make it where my parents were living, in Ota City, Gunma.

At that time, the new gallery in Maebashi City, Arts Maebashi, started a new project called Artist in Residence (AIR) and invited me to be their first resident artist. From October 2014 and February 2015 I stayed there for 55 days over the course of three months and made work there. I often take off my artificial leg so I can focus on my work so until I was invited to do AIR I was only able to make work at home. I was a bit worried but the people I met at Maebashi made me feel at home. We became friends that would go drinking every night and they really helped me out a lot, and we created a lot of photographs during that residence. It was then that I realised that perhaps them most important thing for an artist was a space in which they feel comfortable creating their work in. Then, in 2015, I returned to Ota City, where I was born and raised.

I now live in Isesaki City. There’s nothing here but farmland, but I find it quite interesting. There are cows being raised here not for their meat or milk, but to make fertiliser. They just eat, sleep, poop, eat again, and repeat day after day on this huge farm. It makes me kind of emotional. (laughs) When you’re driving around Isesaki you can see all these huge sago palms on the side of the road and the interesting plants people are growing in their gardens. Although I say that there’s nothing out here in the country side, you can flip that around and say that there is a lot of something here, and that’s space. When there’s this much space, people are going to use it, and I like to see what they do with it.

—You mentioned that the photobook was a way of marking an end of an era for your work, so what do you plan on doing moving forward?

Katayama: I feel like I have a lot more freedom now. I’ve been in the art world for 10 years now, and by meeting more and more people I feel more and more potential in myself. I only dabbled in photography a bit in the past but now I’m making more conscious efforts to take photos, and I think that this is a big change for me. In the past six months I’ve gone out and taken a lot of landscape photos in Michigan in the US and the Watarasegawa area around my home.

—Why the switch to landscape photography?

Katayama: I’m more interested in photographing the people within the landscape rather than the landscape itself. Environments we call “natural” usually always has some sort of manmade element in it. Thinking of landscapes as something people made for themselves makes me appreciate them more. I love to think about how a place was formed and what kind of people inhabited it. But that doesn’t mean that I want to specifically photograph people going about their day to day lives. It sounds kind of contradictory when I say that after saying I want to photograph human activity, but I plan to explore this further in a future body of work.

—Would you say a landscape being formed by the acts of humans is similar to how you expressed that you as an artist was formed by the people you’ve met?

Katayama: I think yes, and no. Thinking back on my life, I don’t think I’ve achieved anything according to my own will and desire. I tried my best in school and in job hunting because I was expected to, but that was it.

—So you feel like the effort you’ve put in and the results you’ve gotten are very disconnected from your own desire?

Katayama: I feel like what I’m disconnected from is this notion of “normal”. What I wish for isn’t particularly hard to achieve but it somehow keeps eluding me. The harder I try and reach for it the further it gets, and what I end up grabbing is something else entirely. It’s gotten me down a lot in the past but now I see this as another one of life’s little surprises. I’ve slowly come to accept that I can’t become what is “normal”, and that’s fine.

When I’m choosing clothes for my child I like to pick something that’s a little different from what I see around us, but then my friends say to me “why did you pick that?” (laughs). Even for the clothes I pick for myself! All my life I’ve been fighting with wanting to be “normal” but knowing deep down that I can’t, but now that I’ve accepted that I will never be “normal” I’m looking forward to what will unfold in my life. I have no idea what’s going to happen but it’s exciting.

—You speak about yourself like you’re speaking about another person.

Katayama: I think I do tend to, yeah. I feel like I’m observing this Mari Katayama person all the time and think “maybe I should’ve laughed here” or “maybe I should act happy here”.

—You seem to be very aware of and sensitive where you stand in society.

Katayama: Yes, I often think about how I could just try and blend into the “normal” of society and live like that but it won’t ever feel right, and I feel like part of that is due to how my body feels. Sort of like how left-handed people will always feel a bit left out in a right-handed society. If you’re different in some way, how you feel towards society and how people act towards you will also differ greatly, and I think that’s interesting.

Of course that doesn’t mean you should just be happy about your circumstances, but I’m lucky in the way that because I have a body and sense that’s different from “normal” I notice things and make connections between things that other people don’t. And because of that, I was able to make a lot of great friends. Ms. Kazue Kobata told me that I have a very universal body because I’m able to experience so many different things in this way, and I love that. I’m able to surpass the boundaries of language, gender, and culture to connect with others not because of my disability per se, but because of how my body was built. Ms. Kobata taught me that this is what it means to be different from other people.

—Normality and common sense are what connect people, but on the other hand it also carries the risk of dividing them. But when you know you are different from someone, you pre-emptively try to avoid that divide. When you realise that you are different from someone, you know to not judge them according to your common sense so now you’re less likely to accidentally offend them.

Katayama: Exactly, and I think that’s how we’re able to connect. And you’re able to also realise that even if someone seems like they’re living a normal life on the outside, they probably have their own unique story or circumstances even if it’s not visible in “normal” society. I hope that whenever someone meets me and gets to know about my circumstances, they can realise that there are many different perspectives to the society we all live in and that every perspective is worth knowing about.

I did seriously consider becoming a public servant once upon a time, before I happened to fall into the career of an artist. I thought someone with my life experience would be great in Residential Affairs at the Town Hall. I still wonder why I still ended up pursuing something different to what I wanted, but even though I didn’t become the person I wanted to I think that’s ok. Where I would be making one-on-one contact as a residential affairs officer, I would be reaching out to a wider and farther audience as an artist. Reaching out to many other people is part of an artist’s job, and I believe that this is the mission I’ve been given.

Reference: Wakayama, M. 2019, ‘Katayama Mari intabyuu yunibaasaru na shintai to iu GIFT’, weblog, IMA, viewed 31 May 2020, <https://imaonline.jp/articles/interview/20190819mari-katayama/#page-1>.

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Interview With Jeff Scott # 4 ( 2017 )

“I wish people could see who I really am, but I also know that‘s impossible.”

James Ellis has been travelling a different road of late. With new places and new people in his life he‘s found himself on a new path, and possibly writing the best stuff he‘s written to date. “My lyrics are the only way I know to show people who I am,” he tells Jeff Scott, “but they‘ll still never know the real me.”

IT’S EARLY APRIL. It‘s sunny, warm, but there‘s a slight coolness in the breeze. That breeze though is mercifully slight today. My view from the first floor balcony of The Dock Bar takes in a fair bit of Cardiff Bay, from St David’s Hotel to The Norwegian Church Arts Centre, and looks directly out onto the waterfront, harbour and the sea beyond. The horizon is a clear, pale blue, with soft white clouds passing across it as the sun glistens vividly on the swell of the water. The air is fresh, intoxicating. It’s mid morning, it’s busy, the footfall below is frequent. There’s a calm that hangs in the air, nothing feels rushed. Everything just is. It somehow feels just right, the perfect venue.

I first spot James Ellis walking along the street below, his gaze flickering between the people about him and the beautiful spring sky above. Presently he’s walking with a pronounced limp, a result of a recent car accident. He disappears into the front entrance below me, then reappears on the balcony five minutes later, a glass of diet coke in hand.

I stand, we shake hands, we both sit.

We’ve met before, several times in fact. He’s a writer. He writes books and he writes comics - both of which I’ve interviewed him for - but today he’s here in his other capacity, as a lyricist of over three hundred plus songs. He’s collected said songs together now for 13 years. He’s just putting the finishing touches to his 24th collection ’The Great Migration.’

It comes almost a year after 2016’s ‘Armageddon Road’ and a year and a half on from 2015’s ‘Any Direction Home.’ He’s also set up a Tumblr page ‘My Past Pages’ where he posts lyrics for his songs every other day if possible. So far, as of today, the total tally stands at 270 plus songs.

He says he felt an upturn in his writing with ‘Any Direction Home’ and feels that’s continued through with these new songs. He admits that once again he’s kind of put together an unofficial trilogy and once again it was the last thing he intended. “I’d already done two so I planned to do something different, but of course that didn’t really happen.”

He briefly mentions some of the new songs, like ‘Heavenly Rain’ and ‘Odyssey Of You & I.’ He also mentions a possibly controversial punk rock song, not yet seen by anyone, that has the provocative title of ‘Trump The C**t!’ “I’m sure you can guess what that’s about,” he smiles.

Ellis is always thoughtful. He can sometimes seem distracted, not fully tuned in. A side effect he attributes to constantly over thinking things, usually too many things, instead of just letting himself be in the moment.

As ever I try to get to the heart of the heartbreak evident in a lot of his lyrics, but as always, and smiling, he politely declines my attempts.

Once again, as we talk, the subject of the past and certain regrets crop up, but this time he also talks of the past in a more wistful way than previously.

He often takes the opportunity to put himself down, usually through humour. If he feels he’s starting to sound too serious or too pretentious he undercuts it instantly with a joke. He occasionally worries if he’s getting too animated when he’s engaged by something, and he gets impatient with himself if he feels he’s accidentally talked over me. I wave this off, taking no offence, but despite this he still apologises.

He admits that most days he still feels like an outsider and he still struggles to fit in anywhere, but that also, in the last year or so, new places and new people in his life have made that side of things a bit easier.

Once we’re both suitably relaxed it feels an appropriate time for us to begin.

Q. So, another unexpected trilogy? Is this becoming something of a habit?

( Laughs ) Maybe, I don’t think anything’s really planned with me though.

It came about in a different way this time though. With the last two I ended up with a trilogy because I’d simply written too many songs, so they just got spread over three collections. It was purely practical. This time around it feels much more like a trilogy that evolved organically.

I wrote all of ‘Any Direction Home’ in 2015, about three months of writing, but I also wrote more than half of ‘Armageddon Road’ at the same time. Then, I had a pretty long break before I finished the second half. And when that was done, I still had a bunch of unfinished stuff that ended up in ‘The Great Migration.’ So, I guess, despite the gaps, these collections just kind of seamlessly flowed into each other.

And again, there’s still stuff that didn’t make it into this collection either.

Q. Are these finished songs? Can you give away any titles?

I’d say they’re either half finished or just need finessing. They’re pretty much there but I need to take them to completion. Titles? Well, off the top of my head there’s ‘Keep Calm & Carry On’ ‘100 Acts Of Kindness’ ‘The Last Fierce Charge’ ‘The Ground Beneath My Feet’ and ‘A Legend In The Making.’

There’s also ‘Laura’s Song’ but the title of that will most probably change.

Q. ‘The Great Migration’ is an interesting title. It seems to be about things going on in the world right now, but it’s more personal, isn’t it.

Oh yeah, first of all I just thought it was a good title. It was a lot later when the political connotations dawned on me. It was never about that though.

It’s more about moving between different people and places in your life, leaving things behind, that whole thing of moving on, moving forward.

Q. Several of the songs on both ‘Armageddon Road’ and ‘The Great Migration’ deal with the past, specifically about growing up.

Yeah, I wasn’t really conscious of it at all at first, but I think it was an overlap with my memoirs, which is an ongoing thing I keep returning to.

‘Journey On’ is about when I was first in a band, playing cover versions in the basement of my mother’s shop. ‘The Road Ahead Of Us’ is about the drunken weekend nights I spent in my home village during my twenties.

Q. You’ve written a song about your nephew ‘Ode To You ( Song To Jayden.’

I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, but whenever I tried it was never quite working. Then, at the beginning of the year the first few verses came to me pretty quickly, then I got stuck again! To be honest I was over thinking it because it really meant something to me. When I realised that though it took the pressure off and it flowed pretty well then.

Q. ‘Ancient Hymns’ seems to be your attempt at a traditional old English ballad.

Yeah, that was inspired by Frank Turner, both his own ‘English Curse’ and his rendition of ‘Barbara Allen.’ That kind of writing just really intrigued me.

Q. It has a heartfelt longing for home quality, as does ‘O’ Rest My Weary Soul.’

It’s more an idealized version of home, that rose tinted way we reflect on the place we grew up in. I wanted to try and capture that kind of feeling.

Q. There’s a sense of moving forward, of moving on, of going in new directions too.

Yeah, I think ‘Now To Fly ( This Bird has Flown )’ is probably the purest expression of that. I just wanted to write something about how I was finally moving on, that I was now free of the past in a lot of ways.

Q. Both ‘When The Sky Comes Tumblin’ Down’ and ‘Ship Of Fools ( Let’s All Sail Away )’ certainly makes it clear you don’t suffer fools easily.

Ha ha, yeah, I’ve got no patience for people who put other people down, just because they can or they want to, or by way of furthering themselves or exorcising their own demons. It’s just shitty behaviour in my book. We all come into this life the same way, we all go out the same way.

I think a lot of people forget that.

Q. You recently mentioned you were working again on a planned rock opera musical, ‘Hail Maria!’ that you abandoned back in 2010.

Yeah, that’s been around for a while. In fact, parts of it ended up in ‘Kings Of Desolation Avenue.’ I think I had the original idea a while before I started working on it in 2010. It was just a vague idea then. This new version is in the early stages. I’m taking it slowly, seeing how it shapes up, but it’s something I’ve always had an ambition to try.

Q. So, will it be a full script, dialogue, lyrics and stage directions etc?

That’s the plan, so far though it’s just a detailed synopsis and character breakdowns, with bits and pieces of script and sketched out lyrics.

I think the idea of it is pretty strong so at some point I’m sure I’ll push ahead with it.

Q. How did it come about? Was it a natural outgrowth of the conceptual collections?

It was exactly that. It really started becoming more than a vague idea when I was working on ‘The Dream Parade’ ( 2010 ). There were a couple of songs on it that got pulled ‘Stranger In My Eyes’ and ‘Star Bright’ which were both my first attempt at a shared vocal, a kind of duet thing.

Ultimately they just didn’t work, they just didn’t fit right, but the idea stuck around in my head. I think on some level I knew back then that they really belonged in more of a kind of rock opera musical thing.

Q. Were there any particular musicals that inspired you? Any of the classics?

Oddly, I’ve never been into full blown musicals as such. It’s always been more the idea of them. They’ve always intrigued me. I think my first exposure to anything like that was ‘The Wizard Of Oz,’ a film I still love dearly to this day. It was probably the first time I realised you could tell a story using songs as well as the story itself. I’ve always liked films like ‘Singing In The Rain’ ‘Cabaret’ and ‘Grease’ as well, but strangely to this day I’ve never seen a musical on stage, unless it was at a local amateur thing, which, incidentally were always very good.

I’ve always fantasized about writing a musical though, from way back in the day, but the kind of musical I saw in my head I didn’t think anyone was really doing, not that that should have stopped me at all, but I wasn’t sure if there was any kind of audience for it. I wanted to do a musical that was a bit edgier, more rock orientated, but I hadn’t seen anything like that. There were a few things that changed that though.

Over a period of about a year I finally got around to watching the film versions of ‘Tommy’ and ‘West Side Story’ and I heard the soundtrack for the Broadway version of ‘American Idiot.’ That was when I realised what I had in mind could be done. I could write it in the way I wanted to, the ‘American Idiot’ musical being especially enlightening.

Q. Can you tell me anything about the story and the themes in it?

In it’s most basic form I guess it’s a mash up of my own ‘Age Of The Restless Heart’ with a disillusioned young man returning home from war and the journey he then goes on, but also there’s a kind of ‘West Side Story’ thing going on too, with street gangs and forbidden romance and finally there’s a good dose of the spirit of ‘American Idiot.’

Q. Would you say it’s the ultimate realisation of your conceptual idea?

Yeah, I guess, that’s maybe me taking it as far as it can go, at least for now.

Q. You said you wouldn’t attempt another conceptual collection unless a good enough idea came along.

Yeah, and a good six years later it has. At the moment it’s called ‘Electric Hymns’ and I’ve been working on it at the same time as ‘The Great Migration.’ It’s a kind of rags to riches rock star opera thing, not the most original idea that’s for sure, but so far something about it just works. I’ll probably work on it on and off over the next year or so.

Actually, some of the songs are quite close to being finished, like ‘Burgundy Street’ ‘Rent To Pay ( Gonna Be A Star Someday ) ‘(Live Your Life ) Like A Revolution’ and ‘Cherry Heights.’ I just need to work on them.

Oddly, I think out of all the conceptual collections I’ve done so far, this is the one that would best translate if I decided to turn it into a musical.

I SUGGEST WE take a walk along the promenade as the April breeze has grown decidedly cooler during our interview. Mocking a shiver, Ellis nods and heartily agrees. We hit ground level, strolling past the moored boats in the harbour, through the growing spring crowds and onward to Roald Dahl Plass and the Wales Millennium Centre. As we walk Ellis talks enthusiastically about the joys of finally discovering Spotify and finally getting around to listening to all those classic albums he always meant to, but he says, he still has doubts about downloading and sharing music and not being able to physically hold anything.

Suitably warmed up we’re soon sat on the steps of the National Assembly Building.

Q. In 2015 you put together an official Tumblr page for showcasing your lyrics.

Yeah, it had been on my mind for a while that the options for the collections being widely seen were pretty limited and an audience for a fully published book of lyrics would be fairy limited too. Unless you’re Dylan or Springsteen or Young then that’s not the best way to go.

People seem to like what I do though so how to get my work out to the audience I do have? I’d been occasionally posting songs on either My Space or Face Book since about 2008 but it felt like they were getting lost among the stuff about the books and comics. They felt out of place.

Q. And so ‘My Past Pages’ was born.

Yeah, it’s been going just under two years now. It’s the perfect show case for the songs. I really feel like they get to breathe properly on it. They’re not part of a greater whole so they have to stand or fall on their own. I really like that. It’s made me see them in a whole different way. They really get to stand on their own merits, they can’t hide.

Q. You’ve gone back and revised and updated quite a few songs, haven’t you?

Well, musicians get to do that a lot in a live situation, constantly revising and updating, reshaping, so I felt kind of justified in doing that myself. Lyrics have always been fluid for me anyway. It’s part of what I like about them, that they never really feel like they’re finished. Also, I can’t help myself tinkering with things after they’re done!

Q. So, do you consider the versions on ‘My Past Pages’ the definitive versions?

Pretty much, I’ve been very particular about what I’ve posted so far. It’s made me harder on myself in a way. It feels like I’m looking at them fresh. If something’s not feeling right then it won’t get published.

Not until I get it right anyway.

Q. So, you’ve been finding this objective viewpoint a very useful approach.

Oh yes, hugely. There were a few songs on some collections that were just okay, and I let them be just okay because there was enough strong songs either side of them which buoyed them up. But once you pull them out of that context, once they’re out on their own I really have to decide if I’m happy enough for them to go out to the world.

Q. Didn’t this way of going back through old songs lead to you doing revised editions of both ‘The Dream Parade’ and ‘Kings Of Desolation Avenue‘? Both of which you’ve expressed dissatisfaction with.

Well, when I pulled those particular songs out of their context it became very clear they didn’t really stand up on their own, which I now think is a big part of why those collections never really felt right to me.

It was nice to kind of pluck those songs out and revise and reshape them individually, work on them again until I felt I’d got them right. I think both of those collections have benefited hugely from me doing that.

Q. And you’re not just publishing lyrics from the official collections?

No, I’m slowly making my way through publishing everything from the Archive Series as well. And I’m adopting the same approach with those songs too. If something doesn’t work, if doesn’t get published until it does.

Q. And there’s a whole bunch of songs from the abandoned ‘Kingdom Road.’

Yeah, it’s funny. When those songs were collected together for that collection they never really worked. They’re real story based songs, quite dense. I think twelve of those in one sitting was perhaps a bit much, because separately they work a lot better and I’m lot happier with them. I really like songs like ‘The Contender’ and ‘Shine A Light’ now.

Q. You also wrote several songs especially for Remembrance Day 2009.

Yeah, but they never seemed to fit with any of the other stuff. They just stood out like a sore thumb and I didn’t know what to do with them until ‘My Past Pages’ came along and then it felt like a perfect fit. I think songs like ‘The Bravery Of The Few’ ‘On With The Show’ and ‘We’ll Be Home For Christmas’ work pretty well on their own though.

Q. Will you be publishing any of the songs you wrote with your late father?

I will be, yeah. I’m going through them at the moment. They need a little work, but I think I can get them where they need to be pretty soon.

In fact, those songs and the Remembrance Day songs will probably make up most of the Archive Series Volume 6, which I’m working on right now.

SHORTLY AFTER, OUR conversation slowly fades to its inevitable conclusion. It’s grown busier, there’s a few clouds in the sky. We shake hands, say our goodbyes, then go our separate ways into the crowds.

And as I think on our conversation I have no doubt it won’t be too long until we meet again.

Journey on.

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jessefferguson · 5 years

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52,560 Hours Is A Long Time

After the final episode of the VEEP aired the other night, I was wondering how long it had been on the air. I realized it was just wrapping its first season on the day in May of 2013 when I got the results of my first biopsy and confirmation about my disease.

2,190 days ago today – 6 years – I sat in a sweltering doctor’s office waiting for the results of my first biopsy. Since then, I’ve had 6 or so more biopsies, 5 surgeries, more than 75 rounds of drug therapy, 45 days of radiation and more tests than I’d like to think about. But in those 6 years, none of them is seared in my mind like that first one. I was 32 then. I’m 38 now. And, as I see 40 on the horizon, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about how life would have been different if that biopsy had been different. 72 months or 52,560 hours. No matter how you slice it, 6 years is a long time.

My Thinking

Right now, work and life are good. My health is health – it’s never good but it’s not bad, either. It is what it is.

I’m at the age where it feels like 99% of my Facebook feed is filled with the family milestones of my friends -- having kids, first steps, first days of school. Occasionally when I see those, I wonder how my life would have been different if things had gone differently 2,190 days ago. Who knows. I can’t identify a direct impact of something I did or didn’t do because of cancer. There’s no clear thing I didn’t get to do. The only thing that’s known is that it’s unknown.

My work is a huge part of my life -- as anyone who knows me can attest. I’ve never been one for ‘work life balance’ and I’m not really a stop and smell the roses type. I’m more likely to wonder how those roses would look in a candidate photo shoot or whether they’ll be around after global warming. I started working in national politics just under 10 years ago, which means that most of the people I’ve worked with in those 10 years have known me as “Jesse with Cancer” longer than as just “Jesse.” That’s weird to think about.

2018 Election

As I’ve previously written here, on election night 2016, I staggered around Manhattan for a few hours to just think. At the conclusion of it, I got home and went back to work. On election night 2018, I feel like some of the work paid off. I spent most of the last 2 years as a general consultant on a variety of projects – doing issue campaigns, ad campaigns, polling research and independent expenditures. I was very unsure what I’d be able to do after 2016 – with the loss in the election and the reality of my health. While I wasn’t able to do everything I wanted, I continue to enjoy what I do. On most days, it’s what I wake up in the morning thinking about and what I go to bed at night worried about. I still get to spend most days wearing slippers and sweatpants at a standing desk in my apartment.

Over the course of the two years, I have probably advised about $45 million in programs and groups but, most importantly, was able to do it without ever having to put a tie on. I’m glad. I hate wearing ties. That’s especially good news because I have a tube in my neck that lets me breath – so I can’t wear a tie even if I wanted to.

Not all of my work was directed at the 2018 election, but a lot of it was. When I saw Nancy Pelosi get sworn in as Speaker of the House, it definitely put a skip back in my step – restoring a bit of my faith in democracy. But, also, my faith in myself and my ability to help with things even while balancing it with my health challenges.

It felt especially good to see her get sworn in because she was the one – 6 years earlier – who had told me to get on a plane and go see the doctors at MD Anderson in Houston. Those doctors ended up saving my life.

I didn’t go down to DC for her inauguration, though. I could make up a lot of fancy excuses why I didn’t go, but, to be honest, I would have needed to wear a suit & tie. C-SPAN works just fine.

How I Ruined One Of My Favorite Shirts

Even as I work, health concerns creep up. I’ve had a tracheostomy tube since 2015 when they put it in for that pesky reason that it’s good to be able to breathe. Anyone who has had one can tell you there is occasionally some blood in it – that’s normal. It’s a foreign object that doesn’t belong there.

After the last few years, I’m not a ‘run to the hospital’ kinda guy – I’m used to most of this. But by 2 am on Sunday, January 5th, 2019, it was clear there was a problem. Throughout the day that Saturday, it had gone from a little wisp of blood to blood soaked. At one point, I coughed in my bathroom and blood splattered all over the mirror above my sink. Probably time to find a doctor.

I packed towels and tissues around my trache and jumped in an Uber. The car had nice leather seats. I was worried I’d stain them. By the time I got into a hospital gown, the flannel shirt I was wearing was blood-soaked. One of my favorite shirts went into the trash can.

Even at 2 am, the staff there mobilized to figure things out. We did some tests and cleaned some things up. It helped. Out of an abundance of caution, they changed the tracheostomy tube to one that more securely protects my airway but doesn’t let me make any sounds – I can’t speak. That’s always been my worst fear since I got the tracheostomy. I talk for a living. It’s possibly my only redeemable skill.

Over the years, I have gotten really good at working from a hospital: I know where to tell them to put the IV so that I can still bend my arm and type on my laptop. The food tray makes a great computer desk. I know how to talk on a conference call while shielding the beep-beep noise if a heart monitor makes noise. I know how to take over the visitors’ reception area on the floor in the hospital after hours and turn it into a mobile office. If the Russians ever figured out to bug my various infusion rooms and hospital beds over the years, they would have figured out quite a lot about the Democratic Party.

I was in the hospital for about 10 days. The good news is that they have a delightful short rib on the menu and pancakes for breakfast, so I was fine. Oh, and about ½ way through my stay, they changed the tracheostomy back to one where I could talk. That was good news too.

It healed up. I took an Uber home. Since then, it’s not given me any real problems.

Problems like this sometimes creep up; they’re part of everyday living. In the moment, they seem terrible but in hindsight it’s just the way of things now.

The Hardest Day (GayleNation)

I sat in the way back of the Howard Theater that weirdly cold yet sunny day in Northwest, DC. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to sit through that service so I sort of wanted to hide in the back. It was harder than I thought. Half-way through the service, as I watched friends, colleagues and even former bosses (and popular vote winner) give their eulogies, I had to walk out. I made it look like I was going to the bathroom but I really needed a few minutes of air. That was the hardest day of this last 12 months -- November 10, 2018, when we said goodbye to my friend Tyrone Gayle.

I remembered the night he called to tell me about his diagnosis. He knew what I’d been through and he asked for advice. I didn’t really have anything useful to say. We talked about whether it was a nightmare, I tried to make the case it was more like a bad dream.

I grieved the far-too-early passing a friend. I was sad to think he wouldn’t be part of my life and had only begun to reach his potential. But cancer had been the cause for this funeral – a young man taken at age 30. Many people were devastated with the news of his passing; many were as close and some even closer to him than I was. It was a hard day for a lot of people. I imagine my thoughts that day might have been a bit different than other peoples’.

I can’t believe that was six months ago. He was 8 years younger than I was when he died and he was diagnosed 3 years after I was. He had worked for me in 2013 when I was diagnosed and worked with me in 2016 when he was diagnosed. Whenever you have cancer and you hear about someone else with cancer, it’s difficult. When you hear about someone younger, it’s worse. When I heard about this – and when we lost him – it wasn’t so much a gut punch as it was a gutting.

Tyrone has passed away in late October of 2018 but they planned the memorial for after the midterm election. As the planners knew, Tyrone would never have let us take focus off the election to focus on him. A lot of tributes have been said and written more eloquently than I could about him – about his work with Tim Kaine, Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris. He had an infectious optimism and an unrelenting drive. It was always weird up to look to someone who was more junior than you are, but I did.

After the service, many of the attendees got together at a local bar to continue the tribute. I saw friends from all walks of my life in Washington, but I ghosted on my plans for the rest of the night.

I sat in my hotel room that night and thought for a long time. Some thoughts were the normal ones -- how he’d be missed and what a void he’d left. But then, in my situation, the mind wanders to weird places. You start asking questions like “Why him and not me?” You think about what the differences could have been – He was younger. Did I get better treatment? Was my disease less severe? Why him and not me? You realize there isn’t a reason, that it’s fairly random. And you feel thankful and lucky because the lot didn’t fall on you. But you realize you shouldn’t think like that about the dear friend you just lost, so you push that thought as hard as you can out of your mind. But sometimes it creeps back in and you feel guilty when it does.

In the end of that night, though, I went to bed with a weird feeling. It was a feeling of jealousy – a weird kind of jealousy. If a memorial service is a tribute to how you lived and who you touched, Tyrone’s was filled with more than 750 people -- people whom he admired and people who admired him. I started wondering what mine would be like. There was no way I could match him. Anyone with cancer who tells you they don’t think about their own mortality is lying through their teeth.

Where Am I Now?

This Tuesday, May 21st, is 6 years since I was diagnosed. This Friday, May 24th, I’ll hop downtown and get my latest treatment. We know the cancer is still in me; that hasn’t changed. But, generally speaking, we have it under control. Sometimes we have to deal with an issue here or there but it’s not creating life threatening problems.

I’ve been on the same drug trial since last year. I still go down to Sloan Kettering every 3 weeks for a 30-minute drug treatment. Two hours of work from the same hidden corner of the doctor’s office while they get the drug ready. I know all the nurses who have the Friday shift and they know me. Some of them even know the best places in my arms to start an IV line. The treatment doesn’t have any particularly problematic side effects. So, I’m not healthy but I’m not currently sick. It’s really more like a chronic condition.

For so long, cancer has been either something you’re cured of or something that kills you. More and more people like me are just living with it. Interferes with life, there are ups and downs, sometimes you need an extra treatment, or you ruin a perfectly nice flannel shirt. But, you live with it and you live your life.

At the bar after Tyrone’s funeral, I ran into his wife Beth. I had seen her throughout the day but had been avoiding her cause I didn’t think I could hold it together. Spoiler alert, I didn’t hold it together.

As we talked, she told me something that I truthfully already knew. She told me if I didn’t keep fighting to keep myself healthy and keep fighting to do what I wanted to be doing, that Tyrone would have kicked my ass.

p.s. If you have interest, learn more about the memorial scholarship fund in Tyrone’s memory and make a contribution.

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nationalhoranleague · 5 years

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Fourteen | Road Trip

≫ Everly - Saturday, January 16, 2016 ≪

"You're going to stop by practice and say goodbye to the boys, right?" I looked to Melissa, who stood leaning against the banister of the stairs, a coffee cup in hand.

"Of course," I looked over my bags that sat on the floor, making sure I had everything. "I would never hear the end of it if I didn't,"

Mel laughed lightly. "I wouldn't advise taking him," She pointed to Sidney who sat over on the arm of the couch, messing around on his phone. "Inside, though."

"You're always welcome here, Sid. We're family now, yeah?" Sidney grinned, nodding.

"Yeah," He began to pick up a few bags from the floor. "The same goes for Pittsburgh. Make sure the boys get my note, okay?" I was confused as to what he was talking about, but Mel nodded.

"Of course,"

Sidney turned to me, a suitcase in each hand and my backpack tossed over his shoulder. "I'll meet you in the car, okay?"

"I just wish he played here, you know?" Mel nodded, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "I hate being separated from you and Jeff."

"Good luck with that," Mel shrugged like she knew she could never convince Jeff to leave Carolina. "Be good,"

Mel smiled, picking her coffee cup back up. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do while you're in D.C.,"

I smirked, leaning over to scoop up Sidney carry-on bag and my purse. "What about in the car?"

"Are the windows tinted?" I snorted, shaking my head at the redhead in front of me. A tense pause hung in the air, neither one of us wanting to say the inevitable next words.

"I'll," She stopped to clear her throat. "I'll see you later, okay? I'll come up for my birthday and then we'll work out something for the summer." I nodded, hugging her one more time.

⊳

"Ugh," Jeff's breathy exhale blew my fly-away hairs away from the side of my face.

I titled my head to look up at him. A deep frown and furrowed eyebrows were set into his features. "Jeff," I reached up, placing my hand on his cheek. "We'll be fine, it's only a few more months and then we can spend all summer together!"

Jeff shook his head, releasing me from his embrace. "What if we make playoffs?" I nearly scoffed at the thought. "What if they make playoffs?" Now, that was a little more plausible.

I giggled, shaking my head at my worrisome best friend. "I wouldn't worry too much," Jeff's eyebrows lifted. "We've always done this, you'd go back home to Markham, I'd stay in North Carolina and then we would travel to see each other." I smiled up at him. "This is nothing new, we can handle it."

"You're not going to go to Nova Scotia with Sidney?" I shrugged my shoulders as we began to walk away from the dressing room and towards the door that I came in through.

I shrugged. "I suppose I don't know, yet. We haven't talked about it,"

Jeff laughed, tugging on one of my boxer braids. "Nonsense,"

"Where are Elias and Justin?" Jeff sighed, leaning against the wall just as we stopped by the door.

"Elias doesn't want to see you off, again, he's in denial, I think. He does, however, want me to do this," Jeff reached to hug me and then kissed both of my cheeks like Elias always does.

I grinned, shaking my head. "You make sure you tell him that he's always welcome in Pittsburgh just like you and Mel are,"

"I will, pipsqueak,"

"Do it in a Swedish accent." Jeff laughed but tried to mock Elias's accent. He failed miserably. "Please, don't do that ever again."

"Justin sends his best wishes," I nodded. "He's in physical therapy this morning, something with his ankle, I think."

I nodded in understanding. "Oh, that's too bad."

Jeff smiled, opening the door and walking out in front of me, leading me to the parking lot. "He's about as graceful on the ice as you are on the ground,"

"Alright, dad," Jeff laughed, before unlacing his arms from around me. He lifted his head to glance in Sidney's direction and offered him a wave.

I looked to Sidney, noticing his content smile as he watched Jeff and I. "Go,"

I slowly began making my way towards the rental car Sidney and I would be driving to D.C. in. "I love you, Jeff."

He smiled, winking at me. "I love you too, Everly."

⊳

Minute Forty-Seven: US-64 E, Nashville, North Carolina

"So, how did you meet Jeff, exactly?"

I laughed, just a little. "I was at a competition in Buffalo in like 2004, maybe, and the coach I had at the time knew his coach and so they introduced us to each other and we've pretty much-been friends since then."

Sidney nodded, a smile on his face. "How did you guys end up living together?"

Sidney smiled. "And you lived there together for five years?" I laughed, nodding.

Sidney allowed an exhale to evict from him. "Good friends are hard to find,"

I turned my head back to Sidney. "I've been lucky, I suppose." Sidney's eyes briefly left the road to look at me. "Found Jeff, found Mel," I sighed happily, reaching over the console to place my hand on Sidney's thigh. "Found you."

"We're only friends?" Sidney asked, a playful grin coming across his face.

I laughed, tilting my head back. "You're my best friend, bubba."

Sidney hummed, tilting his jaw in my direction. I grinned, pushing myself up to press a kiss against his stubble covered face. "You're my best friend too, Everly Grace."

⊳

Hour One, Minute Fifty-Eight: I-95 N, Emporia, Virginia

"Sid," Sidney barely glanced at me in the passenger seat. "I have to use the restroom,"

Sidney groaned loudly, allowing his chin to drop against his chest. "You have to pee, again?"

I blushed, offering a sheepish grin. "Well, no,"

Sidney snorted, shaking his head. "Everly!"

"I can't help it! It's a natural bodily process!"

⊳

Hour Three, Minute Thirty-Two: I-295 N, Fredericksburg, Virginia

I glanced up from my tattered copy of "Looking for Alaska" to look at Sidney's phone that sat perched up in the cupholder. It had just gone off for the 16th time since we've been in the car.

"You're a very popular man today,"

Sidney groaned. "Answer that, will you?" I slowly closed my book and reached for Sidney's phone.

Sidney nodded his head. "I read the first seven texts,"

I cleared my throat. "Would you like me to read what he just sent you?"

Sidney ran a hand over his face. "Go ahead,"

I sighed, reaching up to toss my two braids over my shoulders. "It's an article, so, prepare yourself."

Sidney stiffened in his seat, cocking his head ever-so-slightly to the side. "It's an article?"

I scoffed, shaking my head with a laugh. "Oh, yeah. TMZ Sports. "America's Sweetheart Everly Grace Cassius has never been one to be shy when it comes to opening up about her private life, often willingly talking about her past struggles depression, overcoming adversity in the figure skating world, and her dating life. But, since her return to her hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennslyvania in early October of 2015, the two-time Olympic Gold Medalist has been relatively hush-hush.

Cassius' sudden quietness caused a stir across some of her fans, as the absence for months on end from the media has not to be seen since Cassius joined the national spotlight. This being said, fans were lead to speculate that Cassius' absence on social media was due to a possible new relationship.

Everly's fans were proven right after she and rumored beau, Pittsburgh Penguins' captain Sidney Crosby, were pictured together in Raleigh, with a few friends and NHLers in tow. This is not the first time the two have been linked together, as they were pictured together twice before: first in a Pittsburgh grocery store looking cozy in early December and then again nearly a month later, appearing to celebrate her 24th birthday with her family and a few Pittsburgh Penguins players and wives. It is also glaringly hard to ignore the fact that she has followed many Penguins' wives and girlfriends on social media, as well as Crosby's younger sister, Taylor.

Crosby is known to the city of Pittsburgh as their most eligible bachelor since his breakup in 2014 from his former flame, Pittsburgh Pirates broadcaster, Ella Hart. Crosby is also known to be a very private man, being one of the only NHL players still absent on any form of social media, Facebook included. Crosby's likeness for his privacy may very well be what's keeping Cassius quiet on social media.

We are waiting on further confirmation from either Cassius or Crosby or their respective representatives and will update this article with further information as it may come along."

Sidney nodded, glancing over his shoulder as he merged into a lane, heading into the direction of the hotel. "Do it,"

I looked at him in surprise. "Wait, what?" He laughed. "I was kidding, I know you don't want to be on social media."

"Everly, I don't want to be on social media. But, I understand that you choose to use social media as a platform to interact with your fans. If posting a picture of us on social media is important to you, then do it. Post my nudes on Instagram, I don't care, it's your social media. Share as much or as little as you want to." I placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly.

"Are you sure?" I moved one hand up to the back of his neck, twisting a longer curl around my pointer finger.

He smiled, dropping his head back into my hand as he turned into the parking lot of the hotel we were staying in tonight. "Absolutely,"

I grinned. "I love you, Sid,"

Sidney smiled widely, leaning across the console to kiss my forehead. "I love you, Ev. Date night in D.C. then?"

I hummed as I began to collect my things and put them in my purse to go into the hotel. "Sounds like a plan, I'll wear my 'Crosby's #1 Fan' T-shirt."

Sidney laughed, his head hitting the back of his seat. "Yeah, I bet you will."

⊳

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everygcassius: Fine & Mine 💛🐧

| Edited on June 18, 2019 |

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