#and the immense joy i get cancel out my exhaustion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mythiccheroacademia · 3 years

Text

—single!parent headcanons

part one

mtha thots: the manga makes me really sad and i think children deserve a childhood so i made this to cope

all characters are 18+

Warnings: it’s long but, other than that, none <3

Shouto Todoroki:

truth be told, shouto never wanted children

he knew how important someone’s childhood meant

shouto honestly couldn’t trust himself not to mess it up :(

so imagine his surprise when he came to fall in love with this little boy, no older than six, he found snooping around a dumpster

it’s actually kind of funny how they came to be bc shouto was 100% put off by the kid

when they made eye contact, they stared at each other like

shouto:🧍🏻

the boy: 👁👄👁

shouto again:🧍🏻

before the brat blew him a raspberry and tried to run off

ofc he caught up to him and, despite the boy’s tantrum, the two went straight to the police

and for some reason, todoroki ended up with him in his condo

the first couple of weeks were terrible

it seemed like Yuuma hated his guts

shouto let him have his space and only really pestered him when it was time to do the essentials

at midoriya’s suggestion, he’d try and talk to him about his day or how his therapy sessions went, but it was no use

the boy would tell him not to worry about it and scurry off

this happened for some time and honestly, todoroki was at his wit’s end

until one day, shouto realized that it wasn’t that the child hated him, he just didn’t want to be a burden him

then everything clicked

mustering up the courage, todoroki one day asked Yuu if he’d like to help him make dinner and the way the kid’s eyes brightened up at the chance to be useful made him a bit sad

but he pushed it away in favor for how the boy blossomed as he showed shouto the right way to stir meat stew and make onion rings

at the end, the red n white hero gave him an honest smile and thanked him for his help

Yuuma looked at him for a long time before bursting into tears

it was the first time shouto had seen him cry in weeks

it was also the first time they hugged

from then on, it was almost magical how well they clicked

the boy was exitable and extroverted, todoroki was quiet and reserved

they were both stubborn to a fault sometimes and that didn’t bode over well during the few disagreements they had but they brought the best out in each other

shouto made the kid feel safe and secure, always reminding him that anything he did for him was never burdensome

Yuuma gave the hero a confidence boost and a chance at another type of love he never knew he wanted

the first time his son called him dad was when todoroki made the adoption official

Yuuma shyly asked if it was okay that he called him his father and shouto will not admit to the tears he desperately tried to hide from a teasing midoriya and his siblings (ofc he had them there)

no one knows this but todoroki literally had separation anxiety the first couple of years

his child was just fine being with the babysitter but shouto would spend his work days/nights feeling very tense being away from him

called/texted the kid all the time, left him encouraging sticky notes in his lunch box, and would hug him for at least 3 min before leaving the house

he’s such a mother hen bye

he’s lucky yuu adores him bc he was lowkey doing a lot LMAO

they have movie nights together and geek over manga like nerds

yuuma cosplayed as roy mustang once and todoroki has an album of pics from that day alone

todoroki’s the type to randomly bring his son fruit just because

yuuma regularly slept in shouto’s bed/futon until around 7th grade

as his son got older, and more popular (w the ladies AND gents hehe) at school, todoroki got a little jealous bc yuuma wanted to spend more time with his friends

he was legit hurt the first time yuu canceled on movie night to go to a sleepover 🥺

todoroki moped over it until midoriya told him to knock it off 💀

it’s a shameful quality of his, but shouto will always lie to get his kid out of the stupid shit he gets himself into only bc yuu plays really funny pranks

has to keep himself from laughing in front of the principle

they’re both lowkey mischevious asf

he’ll scold him later tho so it’s okay, he’s responsible™️

shouto always calls yuu “son”

if he calls him by his full name, he’s either sad or annoyed w him

during family gatherings, yuuma is the star of the show bc of his superb cooking skills

he and fuyumi get along great

and surprisingly enough, bakugo adores the kid even though the same can’t be said for todoroki himself

yuuma wants to open a restaurant and he’s a little afraid of his father’s reaction

little does he know, shouto is ready to hand over his black card at moment’s notice purrr✨

he’s a really supportive father and he has his hiccups, but todo tries his very best and his son makes him impossibly proud every day

oh and did i mention they wear matching sweaters?

they’re that kind of family

it’s so cute i could die

Midoriya Izuku:

midoriya was born and bred to be a father

change my mind

i mean look at that face

that’s daddy material to me 😌

anyways

midoriya has two girls that are about a year apart

due to the immense pressure of being with the #1 hero and an unwillingness to be a mother, his then girlfriend at the time suddenly left him, signing over all maternal rights to the hero

it just crushed izuku

he spent weeks trying to look for her and to make it work

he wanted his girls to have a two-parent household, but she went radio silent

it was a difficult adjustment

but deku is the most ambitious and resiliant person on the planet so he was devoted to giving them the best lif he could

and ofc he had the support of all his friends and his mother

but there were a lot of ups and downs

mostly downs in the first year being a single parent

at the time, his youngest wasn’t even one whiles eldest was almost two

and izuku worked a lot

being #1 meant he was the country’s go-to whenever something happened and he missed a lot of stuff he’d never get to redo

like his youngest, Maia’s, first word which was “bunny”

and the first time his oldest, Naomi, went to the bathroom by herself

and izuku will never forget the day he came to pick his kids up after being on a week long international mission

when he reached out for them, they looked at him as if they didn’t know who he was

izuku spent the entire night crying in inko’s arms

the next morning, he only had to deliver some paperwork, but everyone noticed the usually chipper hero’s sour mood and stayed clear from his path

even bakugo and todoroki felt chills when izuku passed by

it was tough, but deku was determined

he started taking up night shifts so he could be there for his girls during the day

he’d pick them up from inko’s right after work and spend the day playing with them

izuku stayed up on a dangerous amount of caffeine and will power

there were days he literally passed out from exhaustion, but it was worth it to see them through their milestones

when Naomi went to kindergarten, he couldn’t stop buzzing around w excitement

he just adored listening her ramble on about what she learned and that persisted on even as she grew

like, she’s a genius

she was his doppleganger in intellect and resilience

she’s def a daddy’s girl and although she’s not as empathetic as her father, they’re very close

naomi is an excellent older sister and stepped up early when izuku couldn’t always be there

maia is izuku’s match in personality

she’s very sweet, a bit more extroverted, and compassionate

but pls don’t get it twisted, that girl gives the fam a run for their money

she’s got izuku’s righteousness but heightened 100x and with a lot more anger

the girl’s got quite the mean mug and she got hands highkey

they both do tbh (i mean, izuku is their dad...)

the amount of fights naomi’s had to back her up in is ridiculous 😭

they’re two peas in a pod tho so if you mess w one sister, you mess w both ‼️

regardless of all that, izuku wouldn’t change them for anything

he’s the type to obnoxiously kiss them on their cheeks before school

they’ll take turns doing each other’s hair

izuku gets pigtails that he proudly wears to work

deku has a private instagram that is so filled with those two, sometimes ppl forget it’s his

he def has a “girl dad” t-shirt

he calls them his angels 🥺

i see him getting a tattoo of their names on his arm or something

they’re all cry babies so when they get into arguments, it doesnt last long

both girls went to UA to be heroes and izuku’s heart just soars with pride every day

he also cried an obnoxious amount and for some odd reason, kept popping up for “demonstrative purposes”

they had to have a family talk so they could tell him to stop babying them in the kindest way possible

and by that i mean, naomi said it bluntly and maia did damage control lmao

overall, izuku loves those girls more than life and they love him just the same

raising them was a rollercoaster, but he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat

Sero Hanta:

another one that just looks like he’d be an amazing father

please have my children sir

sero is one of the few that was actually looking to adopt a kid

he came from a large family and desired connection with a family of his own

he tried a for a while, but it never seemed to happen

until he came about a small girl he met on the off chance of passing by her hospital room when he was getting a quick check up

she was one of the children they saved on a mission and when he saw her curled up on the hospital bed that seemed to swallow her whole, his feet moved on their own

the girl, Keiko, was left injured and an orphan, yet despite her circumstances, she was just a joy to be around

sero spent the rest of visiting time with her and just knew she was it for him

she was very sick so he’d spend his breaks visiting her at the hospital

keiko was a huge cellophane fan and it just melted his heart 🥺

she’d have a huge smile on her face, unabashedly showing off her missing front tooth, every time he walked in

they’d spend hours just drawing or talking about their day

when sero shyly brought up the possibility of adopting her, keiko could barely contain herself

she drew him one of her best pieces as a thank you and sero still has it hanging on his mirror to this day ❤️

keiko’s actually quite the artist so there’s many more up there to keep it company

the adjustment period went smoother than anticipated

the girl had her moments and hanta was getting used to being a 24/7 parent, but it was like they quickly acted as if they had been blood related their entire lives

they are ride or dies for each other LMAO

they don’t argue

like at all

the worst they ever got was when keiko rushed to help her father on the job when she happened to see him get hurt

sero yelled at her in panic

it was so startling that they avoided each other for the time being

but a few hours later, sero went and apologized

and that was that

keiko had frequent nightmares and sero would sacrfice copious hours of sleep so that he could turn on the projecter and give her a run down about every star in the “sky” before she falls asleep

he actually bought and named a star after her for her first bday with him

sero pats her head a lot and she hates it

he calls her squirt, sport, kid, and princess if they’re having a soft moment

they have an unholy amount of matching onsies

the kid was already getting to the stage where she wanted to be independent, but she would let her father pick out her outfits sometimes

only bc he put a lot of effort into doing it

aka, she caught him crying over cute pintrest pics bc he’s a simp

okay but sero really, isn’t much of a crier, but he’s sentimental asf

every milestone is recorded

every school night, he’s there (she was a good kid, so he all but gloats w pride after every visit w the teachers)

any drawing she makes, he has

he’ll do anything to be there for his daughter so it really crushed him when he couldn’t go to her high school’s father daughter dance

sero had a mission he couldnt get out of and he was sorely pissed off about it

keiko assured her father that it was okay and that it was corny anyways

but he could hear the disappointment in her voice

he made kirishima go with her anyways bc he didnt want her to miss out on the experience

and you bet your ass that when she came back home, sero was there in a tux with the living room set up to make it up to her

it is just as cheesy as you think it is, but they’re cute so who cares

also the way they both can dance is crazyyyyyy

rhythm isn’t even the word

if there was a competition for best father-daughter dance duo, they would win every time! and i stand by that!

they have at least one viral tiktok dance they did together

sero’s not the emotional type, but the first time keiko had a boyfriend he def made a threat or two to him

it was actually so scary

anyways

they’re honestly the cutest duo and everyone on the block agrees

i love it ❤️

#bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #shouto todoroki #izuku midoriya #sero hanta #father!bnha #single!dad headcanons #can you tell how much i love this idea #i love when the bnha characters are happy <3 #also supriseeee shawtyy

205 notes · View notes

visionaxry · 3 years

Text

TOP 10 TV SHOWS I WATCHED IN 2020

1. Dear White People

This show goes on the top tier of my favorite shows ever. It’s been around since 2017 (after the eponymous movie of 2014) but only this year I finally got the chance to watch it. Truly one of the best written shows I’ve ever seen, with such compelling characters and story. While I love to watch series with hard hitting social topics, it’s usually very emotionally exhausting for me. However, DWP manages to balance the gravity of its plot with a bright outlook. Besides, I always love to see different characters’ perspectives so the format of DWP is extremely engaging.

2. Grand Army

Grand Army is not your typical teen drama. It’s very raw and real. Five protagonists pull you into the story, and whether you hate them or love them, they don’t let you go. All characters feel like actual people you could know in real life. The show talks about racism, terrorism, sexual assault, white feminism, poverty, homophobia, bullying and more. I also love the way the show uses phones and social media, which you rarely get to see in teen shows. It doesn’t feel glossy or over dramatic. It does get graphic and dark, but it makes you care about the fate of its characters. Here, we also get to see five different perspectives. That and the rawness reminded me of SKAM, although GA is way less cheerful. It could also be compared to Euphoria with it’s portrayal of real issues, but I feel like GA hits the spot much better (and has more diversity).

Finding out that the creator is racist, upon finishing the binge, left me shocked and quite conflicted. I hope they will change the showrunner for season 2 (if it gets renewed).

3. The Great

I’m not much of a period drama fan but this one’s no typical historical shows. It plays around historical figures, but you shouldn’t take that too seriously, just like the show itself. It’s a great (haha get it) fun to watch. The combination of comedy with the actual life or death peril creates a unique experience. Each episode the tables turn, you feel both, betrayed and enticed. Not to mention, Elle Fanning and Nicholas Hoult’s chemistry and performances are phenomenal. Overall, it feels like a strawberry blew up in your mouth (take it however you want).

4. Dickinson

Dickinson is similar to The Great in a sense of historical accuracy. And I’m grateful for it, because seeing the 19th century nobility twerking at a party was something that brought me an immense amount of joy. Of course, you get to see Emily Dickinson’s poetic and original inner world, which is handled quite creatively.

5. The Queen’s Gambit

This is just a very well written, portrayed and produced story. Even if you feel like it wouldn’t be your cup of tea (I mean a period piece about chess? Come on), chances are once you put the show, you won’t be able to stop. It’s a limited series with a star struck cast which pretty much reads like a prolonged film. It’s also pretty suitable to watch with your family, if usually you struggle to find a common interest.

6. Julie and the Phantoms

This show certainly exceeded everyone’s expectations. It may seem like a typical kids show, but it’s smart, deep and entertaining. The music is incredible and it’s impossible not to fall in love with characters. Also, here’s the proof that your show doesn’t need to have graphic scenes and oversexualized underaged characters to be good.

7. Saved By the Bell: the reboot

So I didn’t watch the original show, but the reboot caught my attention mostly because of Josie Totah, and because the vibe of the show just felt like something I would like. And I was absolutely right. Perhaps it’s not everyone’s cup of tea (and what is?) but to me it’s hilarious. A sort of heart-warming witty little show with gen z humor and interesting diverse characters. Definitely my new comfort show. And Lexi’s my queen.

8. Outer Banks

Released during self-isolation it became a way for the viewers to live vicariously through the risky outdoor adventures. Perhaps, that’s why it’s such a hit and a bit overrated. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked (why do you think it’s on this list). It’s not an outstanding show, might be cheesy and raise some questions (like how can they all be teenagers looking like that?) but it’s entertaining and engaging, and sometimes that’s all you need.

9. I am not okay with this

Let’s take a moment of silence for this amazing show being cancelled. Do you like Teotfw or Stranger Things, or better yet both? This show’s for you! It’s unique, dynamic, feels like you’re reading a comic book. Has a certain mystery to it and its own distinct voice. It also feels retro and nostalgic, even though it’s set in modern day.

10. Love, Victor [SPOILERS]

There’s a lot of things I wish I could change about the show to make it better: For starters, more representation. I mean you’re making a show, not exclusively, but primarily for the lgbtq+ community and you only have two main gay characters? What’s that about? There are so many possibilities to make other characters not straight. E.g. Mia and Lake could be couple goals, Pilar being bi, Andrew – definite bi energy. Secondly, the cheating trope is so exhausting and overdone in gay storylines. It doesn’t add drama, it just makes the couple and the characters hard to root for. Also, making the love interest so obvious was so underwhelming after everything we went through in Love, Simon. I was kind of hoping for a surprise love interest until the end.

Regardless of all that, no matter how far from teenage reality this show is, it was cute. And even though I rooted for the secondary characters way more than the main one, I’m still excited to see what they come up with for S2.

174 notes · View notes

thelemmerpie · 3 years

Text

You look at your watch, and the same question since the beginning of the school year crosses your mind.

Why having classes on saturday morning?

Everyone is tired, except the teacher. Everyone will have to work this weekend. Students never have a vacation, only stolen time paid from sleepless nights.

Whatever. Since you know Mandy, your saturdays to you two are as free as possible and almost nothing prevents you from seeing each other. Every week, you end up in your favorite italian restaurant for a dinner, often accompanied by a night of pleasure in your flat, or hers. Even if it's still impossible for you to live with each other, spending the weekends together is not uncommon. So much that she has clothes and toilet stuff in your appartment, and vice versa.

You thought about her face floating above a table, lit by candles. It perfumes your spirit and you quickly forget the courses. Gracious, her smile revealing so cute dimples, her long and willowy hair tumbling down like a waterfall made of the most sleeked mirror on her oppulent chest, more or less revealed according to her mood...You're already on a cloud only by thinking about her. The day is beautiful, your eyes closes while you're smiling, and nothing can lift you out of your contemplation.

-Mr. Johnson seems already on weekend. Unless he's still in dreamland?

Almost nothing. The comment is as striking as a bucket of iced water. You turn your head to the old vulture who serves as a teacher. The bun as tight as her thin pinched lips, she looks at you with eyes ready to throw lightning. You stutt.

-Sorry mam'. Tiredness.

-Think about sleeping at night, young man.

As if you could afford it...This first year of master's degree in plastic arts, sculpture course, is more exhausting than expected.You wish you could rest your head every night on Mandy, which is impossible. Since she obtained a bachelor's degree and works on the other side of the city, she had to take a flat. You, you stayed on the campus. Life is good inside it, but not as much as with her.

The rest of the class is deadly boring, but you strive to make as many notes as you can. Finally, after what seems like hours, the old harpy frees you by asking you to return a project for the next time.

You turn on your phone and the notifications appears. Mandy sent you a text. You open it right away, hoping for a soft message to wait until tonight.

"I'm sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight"

A fleeting moment passes, then an immense disappointment falls like a hawk on his prey (and on your heart. And on your libido). This is not the first time that one of you cancels at the last moment, but it's always unpleasant. Nevertheless, you decide to not hold it against her, even if it saddens you.

"Too bad :'( All you alright? I miss you so much ".

The answer doesn't take long to arrive.

"Yes, I'm fine, but I really cannot go out yet."

She doesn't give you more details, which worries you a bit. Usually, you immediately tell to the other the reasons for the cancellation. You are puzzled, but you trust her and don't insist.

"If you need anything, I can go to your house tonight. Shop, or anything else. What about pizzas and a movie on the TV ?"

"Yes ! That would be wonderful, and much better ! If I can't go out right now, I can at least let you in ~~ I'm sending you a list."

It's autumn, but the heat persists and the blue sky makes you want a sandwich. You would like her to be there, by your side, lying in the still soft green grass, but she never liked the heat for a simple reason : finding suitable clothes to go out in such heat is almost impossible. Not because of being overweight, no. At least, not all over her body. It's a very local overweight: a macromastia.

As a teenager, her chest was already growing at an impossible rate. At 17, she was competing with the most buxom models you'd ever seen. Since then, her chest continues to grow steadily. Every four months, she is forced to buy new bras. Whole boxes of old underwear hang around her house.

She learned to do with it. As soon as she's back home, she unravels the torture instrument to free her chest. If it excited you at first, it fast becomed as common as taking off your shoes. Ignoring her chest is clearly impossible, especially when it jumps in all directions. But the moments you prefer are those quite ones where you are together to the couch, watching TV while behaving and more if you're in the mood. These moments are still too rare. You hope this will change one day. In such a big city, your respective obligations separates you and if you get closer, it would be your obligations that would be too far from you.

You sigh. In just over a year, you'll be able to live together. Her father has promised you a job in his molding company, and he already considers you two as married. Maybe you'll even be able to take up his business later. A clear path, a good job, a dream girlfriend, and a lovely family in law. It's well worth it to endure on saturday mornings with the vulture and work like a madman.

You finish your sandwich when your phone vibrates again. It's Mandy. A short list is displayed. She doesn't need much : food, some medicine...And new bras.

There, you frown.

She bought some two weeks ago, and they were already costing a fortune, in addition to being horribly uncomfortable. Having a big chest is considered as chance, but the bad sides can be counted easily : besides the expensive and inconvenient underwears, you can cite the look of others and the lustful solicitations from complete strangers when you go out in the street.

And yet, you've never seen her complain. No back pain, a body of foolproof flexibility, and an amused satisfaction when she surprises the eyes of others dive into her deep cleavage. She likes to seduce as well, but has always looked for someone who would consider her as something much than a toy for a titfuck. Her breasts didn't leave you indifferent, but you quickly became interested about her to the point that even naked, you can discuss with her as when she wears a triple layer of thick clothes, in autumn and winter, the only seasons where she can go out without problems. Her two favorite seasons have quickly become yours as she feels comfortable.

And yet, what a pair !

You could carve it from memory on pink marble, with all the details that her body offers. Round, no, a little oval. Glossy, smooth, plumped in her clothes, looking like a silicon bag that other women implant themselves. Except that she's natural. It's so unlikely that many people find it hard to believe, at the point that "fake boobs" yeled loudly always been an insult. Harassment, she knows that. But she has always been proud of her body, and you have always been proud of her. People talk, you live your love, that's enough for you two.

You keep thinking about your sculpture. Her tits would be nothing without gravity, of course. A challenge, to account for a chest so beautiful, so full, but that falls so little. Languid into the lustiness of her own pleasure, as she is after love. She's like her chest: proud, but so smoochy when she loves...

And the nipples, of course ! Small, discreet, as cute and innocent as infants. Two small chicks hatched by two aerolas, soft hen mums. Everytime, you vacillate between kissing them softly or sucking them. Everything in her is so perfect that to soil her would be a crime, if she wern't agree to welcome you near her and into her.

Nevertheless. New bras just two weeks after buying other is strange. Have they broke ? With a chest like hers, nothing surprises you anymore.Those before were worse than grandmother's bras. Thick sackcloths, oversized sports bras, with braces stretching out day after day, until her breasts overflowed and compressed her too much. A sexy photo later, you left to buy others. Shopping with her is always a pleasure, even if shops providing sizes at her convenience are increasingly rare.

You call her, and her voice soon rings in your ears.

-Hello, Danny ?

-Mandy, sweetie, I got your list. Had you not...already bought new bras recently?

It still gets you to be embarrassed to talk about her breasts, sometimes, and you must carefully prepare your words in order to not blush. You prefer to look at them and touch them, in silence, without any other noise than her pleasure moans.

-Sorryyyyyyyy ~~ . But I can't do otherwise. I can't go out with the old ones, it's getting worse and worse.

-Better and better, you mean ?

-For you, yes.

-And for you too. I know you love your breasts.

-Stop, she said, laughing. Or I could cancel the pizza tonight.

-You wouldn't dare !

The indignation in your voice is falsely exaggerated, which makes her laugh once again.

-If the handsome and brave knight carries out his mission and goes shopping, maybe the princess will send him a foretaste of what awaits him...

-An antipasti before the pizza, hm? I'll be curious to see what you're making...

-First, shop. I will prepare everything for tonight.

You're about to say goodbye to her, when a genius idea comes to you.

- What if I buy candles?

- What for?

- You know...candlelit dinner?

- For delivery pizzas ? No thanks. And then, I'm lazy to do the dishes. They have grown so much that I start having back pain...

-Really? In this case, prepare your oils for a long and good massage.

You hear hear murmuring with satisfaction.

-Very well, brave knight. If you manage to kill the hunchbacked dragon, the princess will offer you more than an antipasti.

-It's a great honor you give me, my lady.

-Come on, hang up. The shop will not make it himself.

- See ya, sweetie.

-See ya, cutie.

You hang up, a smile on your lips. Never in your life had you had such spars with anyone before. Each of her words brings you joy. Hurry the day you move in with her : your happiness will be complete.

But now, groceries. Your phone is vibrating again. It's a text sent by Mandy.

"I called Georgina this morning, you just have to take the package and pay. It's a huge lucky break, she has just renewed her supplies and agreed to take back those of two weeks ago. I will repay you".

The advantage of being a loyal and regular customer for out-of-the-ordinary clothing is that the ladies around the globe forms a small private club where they can discuss and exchange advice and services. The shop she usually goes to is far away, but it's a warm one and the woman who holds it is super great. Georgina, the manager, is a little old woman as wrinkled as an apple and had the same chest problems. She quickly decided to help women like her. If the bras remaines expensive, she gladly takes over the old ones to retouch them. She's even made customized tailor-made. But as long as Mandy's breasts will continue to grow at a breakneck pace, it will be useless and she clearly told you that : "I should take new measurements immediately after my work is done. I'd never seen that ! Go on like this, my little one, and congratulations, young man ! "

The shop bell tolls when you enter into it. Some times later, Georgina comes out of the back shop and greets you, delighted as you go forward the sale desk.

-Ah, Daniel ! I received Mandy's message. This girl beats all records, I made a new storpile just for her ! Only two weeks, and you'd think she took six months all at once !

-Thank you, Georgina, this is the first time that happens ...

-Tell me about it ! I've never seen that ! Fortunately, I have a good contact in England. Tell her to slow down, she never listened to me! It's not like you're not already happy with what she have, huh?

You try to show a neutral face, as every time Georgina talks about your relationship. Some grandmothers are discreet, but the old seamstress would be able to collapse buildings just by talking. Like every time, you fail and can only display a shy smile.

- I'll tell him, thanks. How much do I owe you?

The old woman sweeps the air with her hand and rejects the imaginary money.

-Nothing ! We'll see that when she returns the others. Knowing her, she didn't even touch it. She made her measurements, but I put her several sizes just in case. She will only have to bring me back as soon as possible.

-Thank you so much for your generosity. Without you, we don't know what she would do.

-Bah, we have to stick together! It was even worse when I was young.. Corsets that choked you even more than the things I'm selling today ! I say, I can't wait the day we can go out without it, half naked, like you men, without being attacked at every street corner! It's not Mandy that would bother ! Beautiful melons as big and as firm as the pectorals of my late husband !

You agree, but you don't know what to say. You may have an empty look, because Georgina allows you to leave.

-Ah, you men ! Go find your beauty and make us beautiful children, it will make my pleasure !

-Yes Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am.

You leave the shop, a second opaque plastic bag in your hands. Even through it, you can feel the fabric of the cup. The more Mandy's breasts grow, the less they seems thick, padded, comfortable. As for the shoulder's straps, they must be tight to cut off her skin. You can't wait the day she'll be able to wear custom made bras for her ease. You send her a text.

"I have groceries and bras, Georgina didn't charge me and she added several sizes just in case."

The answer is quick to arrive.

"Really ? Wonderful ! I'm gonna jump on her neck when I see her. How long before you get in?"

"An hour, I just went out"

"Too looooong..."

You strat to write, but another one appears.

"Here's a little something that will make you want to come even more faster..."

A few seconds later, your reward appears on your screen. It's been a while since you're used to her chest, but your mouth is opening and it takes little to make you drool.

She never sent photos of her completely naked, preferring provocation in exciting clothes. Sometimes she sends you her pretty face. Sometimes full body in a simple, wise, accompanied by her long hair that always makes you fall in love with her when you gaze at them. This time, they are tied over her head, revealing her neck, shoulders and thin arms. She seems to come out of the shower, a few drops still bead of her soft skin A new pair of diving breasts, with monstrous cleavage, overflowing beyond a towel about to explode.

You totally understand the need for new bras. At sight of the nose, only the widest will fit.

And sh's only 21 years old. And she has not finished her growth yet.

In size, yes. Not in cup size.

A new text appears.

"Have you choosed your pizza yet ?"

"I don't know, I'm in a mood for a snack right now. A stuffed sandwich, if you know what I mean ;-)"

“I thought you was in a romantic mood ? Candles of for lightning, not for BDSM, we agrée ?”

"You're impossible, as your jokes"

"No, I'm real. Why don't you touch me, if you don't believe ? I'm still waiting for my brave bra knight ;-) ".

The bus is here. You close your phone, ranks right at the bottom of your pocket so that no one can suspect your activities, and you sit down in a quiet corner.

Something tells you that you will not have time for eating tonight.

__________

Model is MandaDawn, on Patreon and Onlyfans. That photo is clearly not the best, from two or three years ago when she was on tumblr, but I don’t know why, it inspired me with the force of a train. I barely touched her story since her breasts are effectively still growing, for an actual X cup.

#MandaDawn #Story #BreastGrowth #BreastExpansion

105 notes · View notes

prettylittlebrownskingyal · 3 years

Note

Anime recs (some of my personal faves, not the public opinion, obviously):

About sports:

-Haikyuu (I am caught all the way up to season 4 and I have never been more passionate about volleyball in my life, not even when I played it)

-Run the Wind (it's about running but also...friendship? and motivation to follow your dreams?? I mostly just recall relating to some of the lazier characters and sensing the brotherhood vibes. It feels slow at first, but if you get invested you realize that you've binged the whole thing.)

-Free! & Free! Eternal Summer (you wanna get emotional attached to a bunch of teenage swimmers? I don't know why all these sports animes are about guy groups, but here's one about some divas -I mean swimmers. Quite the lil quaint group of nuggets, I gotta tell ya.)

About magic/supernatural

-Sailor Moon (need I say more? She's our queen and we are never too old to watch her steadily turn from crybaby to warrior of the people. If you know, you know. FIGHTING EVEIL BY MOONLIGHT-!!)

-Avatar: the Last Airbender (technically counts as an anime. Holds my entire childhood, every personality trait I have...for sure came from characters in this show. Iconic. Never loses its charms. Lots of magical realism that is centered on the natural elements of the planet, some spiritualism too. Appa is reason enough to watch this show.)

-Legend of Korra (technically a sequel storyline to Avatar: the Last Airbender, but...it's SO DIFFE R E NT. I was at first put off by my lack of OG characters, but there are so many references embedded in there, and you get to meet everybody's kids and grandkids. Also Korra? The embodiment of female pride and power, nothing will forsake her for long. Kinda STRESSFUL how many obstacles the writers create in a single season...let alone 4.)

-Inuyasha (on oldie but a goodie. Technically the first anime I ever saw...*sigh* ah youth...Anyway, it'sset in feudal Japan, but there's time travel so you won't feel too out of place. There are of course demons and magical priestesses and demon hunters and cranky, frankly exhausted, old women. Has a quality plot line and great characters. There is a new sequel show airing about the future of the characters and their bloodlines, I've only seen an episode or two but the nostalgia alone made me want to weep.)

-Fairy Tail (a CLASSIC. It has magic and dragons and FAERIES and found family and is so loveably chaotic, also: hype af fight scenes)

-Soul Eater (another chaotic group of teens that fight impossible battles, the intro music always hits hard for nO rEASON, a little more blood and angst but not like not enough to cancel out the immense joy/annoyance that is Excalibur)

-Noragami (a new take on the concept of how gods are created, sad boi hours have started, wholesome main characters, the graphics are beautiful, some of the monsters can be a tad creepy - but I'm a wimp so it could just be me)

-Bungou Stray Dogs (I HAVE ADOPTED ATSUSHI. HE IS MY SON NOW, THANK YOU FOR COMING. The art style is one I enjoy, very crisp lines and a good variation in character designs. The protagonist is named Atsushi and he is a golden child who must be protected yet allowed to flourish at all times. There is detective work, some great fights, lots of random character flaws, OH and honey the story line is TWISTY!!)

-My Hero Academia/Boko no Hero Academia (this is the show where my broccoli son goes THROUGH IT literally the WHOLE TIME. A great story of the underdog, and the variety of characters and powers are...*chef's kiss*, makes me want to lowkey live in this universe but the amount of villians... gurl it'stoo much for my weak heart smh)

- Cannon Busters (okay, so I know people have mixed opinions on this one. Lemme say this: the intro and outro SLAP, point blank periodtt. The characters are diverse in color and abilities, it's like wild west meets technofuture meets medieval magic war times. The plotline is very all over the place, but hey it's the journey right. If you don't love SAM and Casey by the end of episode 1 you're doing it wrong.)

-BNA: Brand New Animal (the art style is so freaking cool yet cute we luv to see it. The world building is pretty good, basically it'slike Zootopia, but there are way more issues with this island o animals that have a human form half the time. Our main character is determined and just a tad naive, there is a wolf man with a pet crow and we're all okay with that)

-Sirius the Jaegar (straight up, I have no idea how my sister and I binged the whole show in like 2 days, but we did. Great fight scenes, the is blood but... that's because there are vampire-esque creatures also. The main character's childhood got done dirty, but go off on your origin story I guess.)

About slice of life:

- My Little Monster/Tonari no Kaibustu-kun (a wholesome high school romance with oddballs left and right, but you just wanna root for 'em y'know? A good wind down show. There's a chicken in it.)

- (Kaichou wa) Maid-Sama (an unconventional and lowkey erratic main heroine, the love interest seems weird but you'll adore him by the end, just simple high school shenanigans with ridiculously dramatic conflicts)

Phew, that was kinda long 😓 but those are just some animes that I have watched thoroughly off the top off my head to give you a good variety of options. Let me know if you already have seem any of these. Hope this helps you fight off boredom and repetition. Please tell me your faves, I love hearing about new shows!! 🤩 (And btw, my sleep patterns wrecked, I've been going to sleep at like 3AM 😅 Hahaha, send help.)

love love LOVE THIS!! Thank you for sharing babe ❤️❤️❤️ i actually haven’t watched that much anime so i’m glad to get a rundown on some good recs!

also!! i feel u!! team no sleep ftw

#asks #recs #purplefairydragon7 #long post

14 notes · View notes

lia-jones · 4 years

Text

Growing Stronger - Chapter Thirty-Four - Leave Me As Usual

Author’s Note: Hello beautiful people! Thanks to @muart0113, our super talented artist, you are in for a treat! This chapter has some exquisite art, made by our sweet Mu! Thank you, gorgeous Mu, for your immense support and love for the Growing Universe. People like you fuel my inspiration, and are the ones that keep me going when things get a little bit harder!

Victor let out a deep breath, watching it turn into condensation in the frosty morning air. Not even the cold weather would make him give up on his morning run. It was his alone time, when he dealt with all the feelings he had to put aside in his daily life. And that morning, he definitely needed to clear his head.

He took the first step with conviction, and soon he was increasing the pace, making his heart race as much as his head. She had said she wanted to be done with the wedding, that she felt like she didn’t fit in his life. Even if Andrea didn’t know it yet, he did; she was giving up. She was slowly retreating from his life. And he had no idea what to do.

What could he do? The uncertainty of the future was driving him insane. He set his personal feelings aside for a moment, building a scenario analysis in his mind. Base case scenario, he would get married, there would still be issues, but those could be dealt with in the long run. He would support her every step of the way and shower her with love, and eventually, she would understand he could and would make her happy. Best case scenario, they would solve said issues before the wedding. Some miraculous event would make her less busy, she would engage happily and effortlessly in all wedding-related activities, and she would be happy, knowing he would make her happy.

Worst case scenario... Victor sighed, he never liked this part. But one must be prepared for all situations, no matter how painful said situation is. Worst case scenario, she would leave him. She would conclude she didn’t want the life he had to offer, that Levi or any other guy was a better match, and she would leave him. He would be alone.

The next part of the scenario analysis entailed the steps for recuperation, should the worst case scenario occur.

Step number one, he would have to communicate the end of the engagement to all of his guests. Approximately three hundred and seventy out of four hundred. He would make a bland speech about incompatibility and different life goals, trying to protect Andrea’s image at all costs. He wouldn’t let people think poorly of her. If anything, they should think poorly of him. He was the one that failed miserably

Step number two, he would have to cancel all the services for the wedding. Florist, band, wedding planner. He would have to cancel the construction of the large structure he was building in his aunt’s land. He would have Goldman do all that.

Step number three, he would have to control the media. He would assign that task to Mia, with the crystal clear instruction to leave Andrea out of the confusion as much as possible. After that poor excuse of a boyfriend, and seeing her name slandered on the media because of her abuse, he wouldn’t allow her to be unwillingly involved. Andrea should be able to continue her life as if nothing happened. Everything should fall on him.

Step number four, he had to prepare for his father’s lecture. Victor wasn’t expecting any support from him, already guessing the main topics of his speech: he was a fool in love, how could he so easily let these filthy people into his life, his mother would be ashamed of him. Victor would listen to it all and wonder if, this time, his father was right. He could already feel the shame.

Step number five, and this was one Victor was certain of: he would close his heart forever. He would never love ever again. He had found the love of his life, only to see her walk away and break his heart. And he would not allow it to happen ever again.

Victor stopped dead on his tracks, realizing he had gone much further than his usual route. Sighing heavily, he returned home. He now had a backup plan, but he wished he didn’t have to use it. He was prepared for the circumstances, but no plan could prepare him for the heartache.

He entered the apartment, a delicious smell coming from the kitchen grabbing his attention. Andrea was cooking breakfast.

“Victor!” Out of the blue, she jumped into his arms and kissed him, almost toppling them to the ground. The weight he felt in his heart was immediately lifted with her affection.

“I’m covered in sweat.” He warned softly, as she broke the kiss, stroking his cheek. ”What happened?”

“It’s done!” She beamed at him. “I finally finished it! I’m publishing the first half of the study tomorrow morning.”

“It’s done?” Victor could barely believe it. The miraculous event had taken place after all. With the study out of her mind, she could finally focus on them, and the wedding.

“Finally!” Her eyes sparkled with joy, it had been months since Victor had seen that light in her eyes. “I feel like I could cry! I can finally breathe, I can finally relax. No more calls, no more late-night hours working, I can finally have a life!”

Victor squeezed her soft body against his chest. He felt like he could cry as well. However, he had something else in mind.

“That’s definitely worth celebrating.” His voice was low and sensual, as his lips touched her neck. “Let’s go get ourselves clean.” He carried her towards the bathroom, her legs still tightly wrapped around his waist.

“While getting ourselves dirty?” She asked in a sultry voice, hot and moist against his ear.

“Something along those lines.” He smirked, looking forward to the intimacy.

It had been a long time since they last had sex. He loved her intensely, made her lose her mind countless times, allowing himself to get lost in her, as the fog and warm water enveloped them, intensifying their senses. He tasted, kissed, caressed every inch of her skin, until his lustful hunger was completely satiated and she was pliant in his arms, her body soft with pleasure and exhaustion. He didn’t care if they would be late. She was his top priority.

“Now that the study is done, I assume you’re less busy today?” He asked while he ate the delicious frittata she had prepared for breakfast.

“Yes, I’m waiting for a printed version of the study to review. After that, I’m free.” She happily sipped her coffee. Andrea always looked beautiful after sex, her cheeks a beautiful pink, her complexion glowing. “What do you have in mind?”

“We could visit my aunt’s ranch this afternoon and see how the construction is going. Maybe stay for dinner. Mina would love to see you again.”

“Sounds wonderful.” The doorbell rang. Andrea got up to get it.

She returned with a wide smile on her face, holding a folder.

“And here it is, the fruit of my labor.” She opened the folder as she finished her coffee. “Oh no, that can’t be right.” She frowned, as she read some documents. “Hand me that pen, will you?”

And just like that, she was gone, totally engrossed in the folder in front of her, frowning and shaking her head as she read.

“Did I lose you already?” Victor asked softly.

“Sure. Just text me in case I forget.” She answered, absentmindedly, eyes fixed on paper.

Victor held her face gently, kissing her temple.

“I’ll call you later. You’re not listening anyway.”

She seemed to realize she had been distracted, glancing at him with worried eyes.

“I’m sorry, got lost a bit here.” She grimaced, and he chuckled. “Can I call you after I sort this out? It’s really urgent.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He gave her a warm smile. “Enjoy your day.”

He walked in LFG in a much better mood. What was he thinking, considering a breakup? In retrospect, it almost sounded silly.

An hour later, he got a text from her.

I’m sorry, I can’t make it today. Something came up, I need to solve it as soon as possible. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? Love you.

Probably something to do with the mistakes she saw that morning. If the study was to be published the following day, it was only natural that she would need to fix it promptly. He replied with a smile.

It can be rescheduled. In the meantime, I will prepare a list of things you should do as compensation. Be prepared. I love you.

Probably for the best, he thought. He had no shortage of things that were demanding his immediate attention, and maybe the next day they could take the day off, maybe have another picnic. He should call Mina to make arrangements.

It was later afternoon when he called Goldman, looking for his assistant’s wife. One of her clients had an accident that resulted in millions worth of damage, and Victor needed to know how much the insurance would cover, and how much that would cost LFG.

“Diane took the afternoon off, she’s out with Andrea somewhere. But she told me she emailed you the last report.”

Diane’s report was the furthest thing from Victor’s mind.

“You said Diane is with Andrea? Right this moment?” He felt an icy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“Shouldn’t she be? She… She left after lunch.” Goldman looked confused. “Is everything ok? You look pale.”

“Everything is fine.” Victor cleared his throat, closing the laptop and getting up from his chair. “I’m done for today. My phone will be off, call me at home in case of emergency only.”

“Are you sure you are ok to drive, you don’t seem-” Goldman fussed.

“Mind your own business, you have work to do. Like I said, I am fine.” And with that, Victor stormed off. He couldn’t bear talking to anyone at that moment, let alone someone that could read him so well.

Andrea had lied. Andrea never lied, something was seriously wrong. The ice in Victor’s stomach soon grew into a frigid wall. He was nursing a glass of brandy, hoping the frost in his heart would cool the fire in his blood, when Andrea came home.

“How was work?” He couldn’t avoid the irritation creeping into his voice.

“It was fine.” She didn’t look him in the eyes, taking her jacket off and leaving to hang it in the closet. “How was your day?”

Victor was done with idle conversation. He followed Andrea to the hall, ready for confrontation.

“Now you lie to me?”

Andrea’s shoulders tensed, her back turned to him.

“Victor…” She turned to him with a worried expression.

“Do you even want to get married?” Victor threw at her.

He turned to the living room, not wanting to explode right there in the hallway. Part of him wanted to confront her, wanted to demand justice for being wronged and deceived, to make her see how much she hurt him, how a simple lie left his heart torn and aching. Another part of him knew that this would lead to nothing pleasant, and it would just be the beginning of the end. The final confrontation. Although he understood that some things can’t be helped or avoided, that one should just face it and move past them, Victor also wanted to hold on to those last minutes with her, and pretend for a while things could still be saved.

“Victor, listen…” She followed him to the living room.

“I have been more than patient, Andrea.” Victor tried to hide the hurt and fury in his voice, but found he couldn’t. “I know the University has been putting a great amount of pressure on you, and I have given you time, and space. I have respected that. But you have been using it as an excuse to avoid me. You lied to me, Andrea.” Victor looked her straight in the eyes. No matter how painful it would be, she would tell him the truth. “Just admit it, this is over for you, isn’t it? You don’t want to get married.”

“Wait, that’s not fair!” Andrea raised her voice, although the hurt was more visible than the rage. “You know how hard I worked for this, you know I can’t just let it go down the drain! This is my career, I fought very hard for it!”

“What about ME? Why won’t you fight for me? Am I that forgettable?!” His voice came like a roar, echoing in the apartment, surprising him with its force.

The pain inside him was suddenly so unbearable he felt weak in the knees, having to sit on the leather sofa to steady himself, a tear escaping his eyes. Her silence, on the other hand, was deafening, making his ears ring. She said nothing, tears rolling down her face, as she turned her back on him and left, returning a moment after, her eyes full of rage.

“I am doing the very best I can. I’m sorry that’s not good enough for you.” She threw a piece of paper at him, walking away again.

Victor picked up the paper from the floor. It was stamped with that day’s date, from one of the designers he picked for Andrea. It was a receipt for a dress fitting.

The dagger in his heart dug so deep he let out a silent sob. That’s why Diane was with her, that’s why she didn’t say anything about it. She went to the designer to try on her wedding dress. Their relationship was already so fragile, and he managed to completely destroy it with a single blow.

He wanted to get up and follow her into the bedroom, apologize, admit what a big idiot he was, but he couldn’t. The ice around his heart had spread to his veins and froze his muscles in place, restraining his movements. Besides, he knew what she was doing in their bedroom. She was packing. She was getting ready to leave. At that moment, Victor was nothing more than a helpless spectator, watching his dream crumble to the ground, unable to act, unable to stop it. The only thing he could do was pick up the pieces.

He sighed, resigned, as he heard her come into the room again.

“I’m sorry-” She started. He already knew what was coming. He couldn’t bear to hear it.

“I’ll inform the guests that the wedding is canceled. You talk to your family. You don’t need to mind any expenses that were already made, all of those are on me.” His voice was monotonous and detached, hiding the fact that his heart was beating wildly inside his chest.

“Victor…”

“No!” He closed his eyes, another tear escaping them, betraying him. Before she could say anything else, he continued. “Take your time getting your things out of the house, I will stay in a hotel and go on some business trips I have been postponing. I will also withdraw my funding from your study, so you won’t have to see me again.” His voice started shaking, he wanted to cry so much, but he refused. “You have plenty of people that believe in your work. You don’t need me.”

Victor remembered his childhood, and how quickly he was dismissed by his own parents. They loved the idea of having a son, an heir, but they didn’t love him , not truly. All his life, he had been alone, so alone it was hard to picture himself any other way. He was a powerful man in his professional life, but at the same time, in his private one, he was invisible, insignificant. Everybody always wondered why he didn’t have any friends, or close relatives, or a wife, thinking that it was his fault, for keeping people at bay. But the truth was, no matter how hard he tried, no one cared enough to stay. And eventually, he stopped trying.

“In the end, it’s always the same.” He spoke, more to himself than to her. “I was a fool to believe this would be any different. Everybody leaves, every single time. And I’m left alone.”

Andrea suddenly kneeled before him, taking his hands. He was so numb he could barely feel her touch. He kept his head down, afraid to face her.

“You are not alone.” She held his hands tighter. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Victor. I will never leave you.”

“Forget it. “He shook his head. “Maybe you’re right.” His voice was so strained he could barely speak. “Maybe when things are too hard, it just means they are supposed to end.”

“Fuck that.” There was a strong determination in her voice and her touch, as she lifted his head to make him face her. “Look, I know right now you are building a wall between us, I can feel it. But if you ever loved me, if the love you said you felt for me was ever true, you’ll bring it down for a minute and listen.”

He watched her closely and skeptically as she spoke.

“I was wrong when I said that. Things that matter sometimes are hard, but we don’t give up on them, because they are precious to us. They are worth every fight, they are worth every struggle, and sometimes we will stumble and do the wrong thing, but we keep going, you know why? Because they are so rare, so unique that we refuse to give up.”

Victor shook his head in disbelief. Yes, that could be true for most people, but not for them.

“Just give up, Andrea, just leave. It wasn’t hard for you before, I’m certain you can do it again. You have proven to be capable of leading a happy life without me, go and find your happiness. There is no point in wasting time with foolish delusions. You were right to leave me the first time.”

Andrea looked at him with a scary determination in her eyes.

“No, I won’t. Not until you look me in the eye and tell me you want me out of your life.”

He felt his bad blood rising again. He did not like being defied like that.

“Fine.” He scoffed. “I’ll go.”

He should’ve known. He should’ve guessed that Andrea would never relent when she set her mind on something. Before he could reach the door she was already there, leaning against it, blocking it.

“No.” She spoke like it was obvious she wouldn’t let him leave. “Not until we figure this out.”

Victor’s mind was reeling, he couldn’t understand why she was doing this. Wasn’t she the one that said she did not fit in his life? Wasn’t she the one that kept avoiding him, neglecting him? Wasn’t she the one that was supposed to be upset? He had been an idiot, accusing her of lying to him when actually all she wanted was to surprise him? Why was she pushing him around, wanting to make things better again, when she was the one that showed intentions of leaving in the first place?

Why? Why was she fighting if the obvious choice would be to leave, like everybody did?

“Why are you doing this?” Despite his best efforts, tears filled his eyes, revealing how hurt he was.

“Because this happened before, and I left. And there is not a day that I don’t regret it. You think I was happy? I was trying to survive.” She moved to be in front of him, leaving the door clear, a sad look in her eyes. “Do as you must, I don’t want to force you into doing anything. But know this: I won’t be happy. I will never find bliss. And I won’t find anyone else, because nobody else is you.”

The wisest action would be to leave. It had been established that this wouldn’t work, not because he didn’t love her, but because he obviously couldn’t make her happy. An honorable man would probably leave, do the painful thing, sacrifice his happiness for hers. But Victor was weak, selfish. He wanted to stay, he wanted to hold her, kiss her, love her, end the fight. Try again, even if just for the sake of another moment with her. Victor couldn’t move.

She pulled him down and leaned her forehead against his, making his heart beat harder. “You are the love of my life, you always will be. Yes, I could leave, but where would I go? You are my life. Why is it so hard for you to believe that?”

The moment her lips touched his, Victor lost it. He kissed her back with passion, but more than that, with hunger, as he was craving the love she was giving him to soothe his aching heart. He took her in his arms and lifted her up, sitting her on the end table of the hallway, his body pinning her against the wall, his arms trapping her. And she was holding him back, caressing him, nurturing him, giving him the affection he had always dreamed of. When they broke the kiss, he held her tight. The fear of losing her was stronger than ever.

“I don’t want to let you go.” He confessed, nuzzling her neck.

“Then don’t.” She tightened the embrace, and he noticed she was shaking slightly. Guilt weighed in his heart for scaring her like that.

Slowly, he slackened the embrace to look her in the eyes, his nose touching hers, his ragged breath mixing with hers.

“I’m sorry.” They said in unison. Andrea pecked his nose, smiling at him lovingly.

“No, I’m sorry, Victor, this is mostly my fault. I know I have been a mess, and yes, you have been very patient with me. I have been feeling such pressure from so many people I unwillingly disregarded the only one that was actually trying to give me some relief. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care. I want this to work. Can we work this out?”

“Yes.” His voice was shaky, but his heart felt warmer.

“I love you, Victor.” She smiled at him. “Will you marry me, and build a life with me?”

He wanted nothing more in this world. To have the woman he loved in his arms, to create a life for himself that would be completely different from the one he had before, one where he wouldn’t be alone and invisible. Her words made the warmth spread in him, like light flooding a dark room.

“Yes.” He smiled, his lips touching hers, asking for a kiss.

#mlqc fanfic #mlqc li zeyan #mister love queens choice #love and producer #victor x oc #Growing Pains - Series #growingstronger #victor angst

9 notes · View notes

breanime · 5 years

Text

Priorities

Requested by @castletrash: I’m loving all your billy fics! Good Enough tore at my heartstrings. I’m so excited for season 2! If you’re taking requests- would be able to write something angsty where billy keeps missing important dates/anniversaries (maybe for work?) and the reader doesn’t feel important anymore? just give me angst pls thank u I appreciate u and your writing

Sorry it took so long! I hope this is angsty enough for you!

*gif not mine*

You looked across the table and sighed. The restaurant was beautiful, with soft lighting and classical music playing in the background—the perfect kind of place for your anniversary. It had everything to make it the perfect romantic date: candles, music, excellent gourmet food, an intimate setting… Everything.

…except your date.

Billy was almost always late to your dates these days; what with Anvil getting more and more business, and him helping Frank get used to life as a civilian—he was busier than you had ever seen him. But he was always apologetic and tried to make it up to you, so you didn’t take it too hard. But you couldn’t help but be hurt by it. At first it wasn’t a big deal; Billy would show up 10 to 15 minutes late with apologies and while you were upset, you couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Then he graduated to straight up cancelling dates, which you had mixed feelings about. On one hand: it was a huge pain in the ass to have your plans changed and cancelled, but on the other hand: Billy’s way of making it up to you usually involved back spasms and orgasms so… He kind of made it easy to forgive him. Still, it wasn’t all make-up sex and cuddles. Sometimes things got… explosive.

“63 goddamn minutes,” you screamed, throwing another plate. Billy stood still, watching you destroy the dinner you’d slaved to make over an hour ago while he was busy at work. “You made me wait 63 goddamn minutes before you bothered to tell me you’d be late?!” You knocked a platter of food on the ground for emphasis.

Billy, for his part, was letting you have your meltdown; he knew you needed a minute to react; and if you couldn’t fall back on your anger, you’d probably cry. He hated that he made you feel this way. “It couldn’t wait,” he said for the 100th time, “I tried to call you, baby, but my phone broke during the job—”

“The job! That’s all you care about!” You screeched. “You pick Anvil over me every time, Billy! Every time! I’m sick of it,” you could no longer keep the tears at bay, so you spoke through the tears, “You love Anvil more than you love me!”

Billy was in front of you in a second, grabbing your shoulders and staring down at you with wide, dark eyes. They gleamed with emotion as you looked up into them. “Don’t…” His voice broke. “Don’t ever say that again. I love you more than anything, Y/N, more than life itself. I love you so much.” Carefully, he wiped a tear from your cheek. “I know it doesn’t feel like that right now, and that’s my fault, but it’s true, I love you so much, Y/N. Please, don’t… Please don’t say that again.”

You sniffled, and Billy’s heart broke. “But that’s how it feels.”

Billy nodded, still holding your face in his hand. “I know. I’m sorry.” Slowly, he bent down, giving you time to move or push him away if you wanted to. You stayed where you were. “I’ll do better, baby, I promise, just please… I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell as you looked into his perfectly dark eyes. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and you felt him relax against you. He carried you, bridal-style, to the bedroom and spent the next few hours pleasuring you in every way possible, apologizing to you and more than telling you he loved you—he showed you. You two came up with a procedure after that day: if Billy was late or M.I.A, you were to call his office and if he didn’t get back to you in 10 minutes tops, you were to call Frank, and from there, you could usually get in contact with Billy. It worked; and while Billy was still late to your dates, he hadn’t cancelled one in a while, so you were okay with your new system. Billy had even added an addendum to your agreement: if he was more than 20 minutes late, he owed you 20 minutes of the foreplay of your choice, and as much as you enjoyed that, you were glad that he was rarely that late after your last blow out.

But now he was over an hour late. Your phone was on the table, next to a glass of white wine, and had a total of zero texts or calls from Billy. That was…unusual. Billy always texted or called to let you know he would be late or that he was on his way. You were starting to get worried.

Two hours in you called Billy’s phone. No answer. Having played this game before, you dialed his office, swirling your wine in the glass as you waited for the call to be intercepted by Billy’s secretary.

“Billy Russo’s office, how can I—”

“—Hey Gloria,” you said between a sigh, “Is Billy there?”

“Oh, no, Ms. Y/N, he left about four hours ago. He isn’t at the restaurant?” You heard papers shuffling on her end and knew she was looking through itineraries and memos.

“No, and I can’t get him on his cell either…” You put the wine down and signaled the waiter. “You know what, don’t worry about it, Gloria, I’ll give him a little longer to show up. Have a good night.” You hung up, satisfied with your simple plan, and ordered a drink.

Three hours and several drinks later, you were…not a mess, but mess-adjacent. You had called Billy, and Frank, then called Billy again…no answer. You were just a tad bit drunk, so you finally caved, called a cab, and went home to nurse your wounded pride.

Billy had never stood you up for a date before—let alone an anniversary. You were worried sick. Your mind conjured up images of him bloody and broken, of his lifeless body in some grey, gritty alley somewhere. You paced around your apartment, an iron grip on your phone, and tried to think of where Billy could be. You nearly screamed when your phone rang and did when you saw who was calling.

“Billy,” you gasped out, stopping dead in your tracks, “where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said easily, “me and Frankie made some headway with the Albanians and now we’re on our way to Philly to do some negotiations—”

“Philly?” You repeated, blinking in confusion. “I… what about tonight?”

“Tonight?” There was a pause, and you knew wheels were turning in Billy’s head. “Shit… I forgot. Baby, I’m—”

You didn’t wait to hear the rest. You saw red, and you didn’t even bother hanging up the phone before you threw it at the wall. The resulting crash and scattering of little pieces did nothing to ease the rage. You grabbed your overnight bag—which you kept packed and ready for impromptu stays at Billy’s—and stomped out of your apartment. You were done. You were beyond done, even. A part of you wanted to go to Karen and bawl your eyes out, but another part of you wanted to avoid Billy at all costs, and you knew he would easily find you there. It was the same with Curtis. Your rage had sobered you right up, so you drove around town for a few hours, seeing nothing and shaking. The anger left you just as quickly as it came, and you had to pull over to sob into the steering wheel.

You had never felt so unimportant, so insignificant in your whole life. Billy was everything to you; he was your sun and moon, your happiness, your joy—but you meant nothing to him. Forget competing against the women who were in and out of his life, you couldn’t even compete with his job. You could never match the thrill, the satisfaction Anvil gave Billy—and the more you thought about it, the dumber you felt for even trying. You stared at your hands, still gripping the wheel. They were shaking along with the rest of you. You had been content before Billy had come into your life, but now? Now that you had felt the immense warmth of his love? Now that you had seen him, sleepy-eyed and soft in the morning, reaching out for you? Now that you had been cocooned in the safety of his arms? You wouldn’t go so far as to say Billy had broken you—no man could break you—but he had ruined you for anyone else. You knew your life after him would be grey and cold, and worse still: you knew you deserved better.

You checked into a hotel a little bit after that and cried into the stale pillow until your body was out of tears. You could see every time Billy smiled at you, every time he kissed you, touched you, caressed you. In your mind, you could hear his voice, soft with a slight New York accent, telling you he loved you a million times. It was like you could almost feel his arms around you, and you tried to hold onto those memories, knowing that there would be no more.

Puffy-eyed and exhausted, you made your way to the hotel communication center, where they had several computers and a phone. The first thing you did was call Curtis and leave a voicemail saying you were fine, you just needed some time alone, and not to worry. Then you called your work, requested a few days off, and told them you were “taking a vacation”. Satisfied with the updates you’d given; your next call was to Karen.

“Hey,” you had said, voice weary, “it’s me.”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Karen sounded out of breath, “where are you? Are you okay? Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there—we were all so worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” you swallowed, “I just… I want to be alone.”

“Tell me where you are,” you heard the sound of clothes rustling and knew Karen was putting on a jacket, “I won’t tell Billy, but just tell me where you are.”

“I’m safe,” you closed your eyes, feeling more tired than you’d ever felt in your whole life, “Listen, I need a favor. I can’t do it myself, but could you tell Billy it’s over?”

“Y/N, he’s a mess, he just wants to talk to you—”

“—Please Karen.” You shook your head, feeling a headache coming on, “I need you to do this for me. Please say you’ll do this for me.”

“I will,” she sounded out of breath, “I’ll do it right now, just tell me where you are—”

“—I’ll be back in a few days,” you cut her off, “thanks, Karen.” You hung up, went back to your room, and grabbed your bag. Karen was a smart woman. She’d track you down by the hotel number and be there within the hour—possibly with Billy. You couldn’t have that. You made yourself a cup of coffee to go before hopping back into your car and driving off.

You had no purpose, no plan, beyond ‘get away from Billy’, and it wasn’t until the sun came up and you crossed state lines that you started to feel sleepy. You considered pulling over and sleeping on the side of the road but weren’t comfortable with that idea. So, you stuck it out until you got to a motel.

You didn’t have the energy to shower or even unpack; you flopped onto the bed, fully dressed, and passed out.

You woke up to the sounds of birds chirping. You rubbed your eyes, and sighed into the emptiness. Everything came back to you in a rush, and you felt your heart break all over again. You missed Billy—which was ridiculous! He did this to you. Sitting up, you picked up the phone and dialed your own number. You listened to the most recent voicemail, from Karen.

“Tell me where you are,” she was shouting into the receiver, “Call me back and tell me where you are RIGHT NOW, Y/N! Billy is worried sick, and so am I and we—we just need to know you’re okay. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you, just me.” It sounded like she was crying. “Please Y/N, this isn’t like you, it’s dangerous out there.” She sighed. “Call me.”

The next message was from Frank. “This is my fault. I made Bill miss your anniversary, we were…” He grunted. “Doesn’t matter what we were doing, just know that this is on me.” There was a sound in the background, a harsh crash or something. “Bill’s out of his mind, he won’t eat he, he won’t sleep—” another crash—“just give us a call, Y/N.”

You sniffled as you deleted the message and listened to the next one.

“Hey, Y/N,” it was Curtis, “I know you’re hurt, I know you’re pissed, but we’re all worried about you. Just give us one of us a call, sweetheart, okay?” He sighed, and you could almost see Curtis’ kind, sad face. “Billy’s coming undone. He needs you. Just tell us you’re okay, all right?”

You imagined Billy throwing things, cursing, screaming and yelling, and it didn’t make you feel any better at all. If anything, it made you ache for him more. He hurt you, yes, but the last thing you wanted was for him to suffer. The next voicemail message was short but took your breath away all the same.

“You got 24 hours to call me,” Billy’s voice was cold, “before I come and get you.” There was a pause. “I love you.”

You were crying softly now and played the next message. It was Frank, Frank, Curtis, Karen, your mom, Frank again, and then…

“Please.” You had never heard Billy’s voice like that before. It was shaky and broken and scared. So scared. “Baby, please… I am so, so sorry that I forgot our anniversary. I’m an asshole, I know, I messed everything up. But please, baby, just tell me you’re okay, tell me you’re safe, please, I need to know you’re safe.” He took a breath and you heard him sniffle. “I…” You could hear the tears in his voice, and it made your heart break. “I fucked it all up. I knew I would. I knew I’d do something to…” He inhaled sharply. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Better than war, better than money, better than Anvil, and I should have made you feel like that, because it’s true. You make me so happy, and I…” His voice sounded muffled, like he had his hand over his face. “God, I made you feel unloved and alone and abandoned. I am so, so sorry baby, I love you so much. I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you, and that I fucked everything up and that I probably…I probably lost you forever, but please… Call me back—or Frank or Karen or Curtis. Please…

…I love you.”

You put the phone down, stared at the ceiling for a moment, and broke down crying. It was a good cry—the whole body shaking kind of cry, the come to Jesus kind of cry. You were angry, and hurt, and had every right to be—but you loved him. You loved Billy Russo more than you loved yourself, he was everything to you. But there could be no middle ground, you couldn’t keep playing second fiddle to Billy’s work, you couldn’t keep being abandoned by him. The hurt was too much. But this… Running away, hearing Billy beg you to call him—this wasn’t any better.

It couldn’t continue.

You picked the phone back up and dialed without looking at the numbers. You had them memorized.

“Y/N—” Billy began. His voice sounded strained, probably from all the yelling you assumed he’d been doing.

“—I’m in Connecticut,” you said, “I’m fine, I’m safe, I’m gonna stay here for a few days, and I don’t want to see you when I get back.” With that you hung up. The phone rang immediately, but you ignored it. You went down to the lobby, had some breakfast, and then came back to your room for a shower. The phone had a little red light blinking on and off that let you know you had messages, but you walked right passed it.

You thought a lot about Billy and what you would do when you got home while you were in the shower. You had told Karen that you were done with him, but you honestly couldn’t see yourself without him. You loved him. But you had choices to make: forgive him or let him go. Both seemed impossible.

Your phone was ringing when you got out of the shower, and you considered answering it. Instead, you shook your head, grabbed your purse, and headed for the door. You’d seen a diner across the street when you’d gone down to breakfast and decided to treat yourself to a carb-heavy lunch. You flung open the door, renewed after your shower, and froze in your steps.

Billy stood in front of you, cell phone at his ear, staring at you.

His hair was messy, and he was wearing his black combat gear. You guessed he hadn’t changed—or slept—since you both had been in New York. There were bags under his dark eyes, and you could see that he had been crying by the red in them. He put the phone into his pocket as he stared at you. “You said you didn’t want to see me when you got back, so… I came to see you.”

“You—how did you get here so fast?” You asked, hand still on the doorknob.

“Made a few calls, chartered a chopper to bring me here,” he answered. “Can I come in?”

You stepped back, letting Billy come into the room. It seemed much smaller with the two of you standing in it. Billy seemed smaller—deflated somehow—and you swallowed down the urge to hold him.

He glanced around the room, eyes weary, before settling back to you. “You okay?” He asked. “Are—are you hurt? Are you safe?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.” You wanted to ask how he was, but you could tell just by looking at him. He was a mess. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I haven’t slept since you left me.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I trashed my office, broke everything in my apartment, called in all kinds of favors to track you down…”

“Well, here I am,” you plopped onto the bed and sighed, “Billy, I… I don’t even know what to say to you,” you looked up at him and felt tears well up in your eyes, “you promised you’d do better,” your voice broke, “You lied to me.”

Billy dropped to his knees in front of you but didn’t touch you. “I know,” his eyes were shining, “I broke my promise and I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, you deserve better than this, better from me.”

“I do,” you whimpered. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together.

Billy reached out and put his hands on your knees. His touch warmed you to the core. “I’m so sorry, baby. Frank needed my help, and I thought I had time to help him and make it to dinner, but…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I made a promise to you and I broke it. And if,” he ducked his head down before bringing it back up, eyes swimming in unshed tears, “if you have to leave me, I get it… I fucked up. I fucked up so many times and you were so patient, and I took advantage of that. I don’t deserve you. I never deserved you.” He took a shuddering breath, and you knew he was steadying himself for whatever he had to say next. “I love you so much, Y/N, and I’ll always love you, but… if you tell me that you never want to see me again…” His eyes bore into yours and you could see the sincerity in them. “I’ll honor it.”

The tears fell down your face, hot and warm, and you licked your lips, searching for the words to say. You looked down into the face of the man you loved and felt your heart splinter. You loved Billy, you needed him like you needed air to breath, but he hurt you. He hurt you so bad and you felt like you couldn’t trust him. “I don’t want that,” you said, putting your hands over Billy’s on your knees, “but I can’t just forget and forgive. I can’t trust you. I love you, Billy, I love you so much, but you…” You took a deep breath. “…You put work ahead of me every time and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t live like that anymore.”

“I know,” he nodded, eyes never leaving yours, “I know, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too,” his voice wavered, and you wiped a tear from the edge of his eye.

You took another breath, staring down at Billy. “I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t do this with you anymore, I can’t keep being a footnote in your life.” You leaned forward and placed both hands on either side of Billy’s face. “If I ask you to do something, will you do it?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, no hesitation and nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“I need another few days here,” you said, “and I need you to go.” You took a deep breath and continued on. “I want all of your stuff out of my apartment by the time I get back.” Billy’s dark eyes shone with sorrow at your words, but he didn’t interrupt. “I think… I think I’m gonna need some time before I can be with you again, but if you’ll wait—”

“—of course I’ll wait,” Billy promised, nodding.

“—then maybe we can get back to where we were,” you finished, “because I really do love you, Billy.”

“I love you, too,” he said back.

With tears rolling down your cheeks, you pulled him towards you and held him in your arms. He was shaking, and you kissed the side of his face. God, you loved this man. You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed huddled up like that; half of you on the bed and the other half crouched on the floor with Billy, but neither of you were still crying by the time you separated.

You smiled weakly at Billy, running your hands through his thick, dark hair. “I’ll see you in New York,” you said.

He smiled back. “See you in New York.”

You ended up staying in Connecticut for another five days before heading home to New York. Billy was true to his word; he had cleared your apartment of all of his stuff and left a new phone for you by the time you got back. You invited Karen over for brunch the day you got back and had a tearful reunion. You met with Curtis for drinks later that day but didn’t bother to hit up Frank—you knew that he knew you were in town. Plus, you didn’t want to take him away from Billy. You didn’t want Billy to be alone.

You went back to work and re-established your routines without Billy. It was strange and lonely, but you felt a sense of clarity with each day. Going to sleep alone wasn’t fun, especially since you were craving Billy’s warmth, but you needed the time to think. A couple of weeks after your return, you got an envelope in the mail from Billy. It contained an article from the paper saying that Billy had taken a sabbatical from Anvil and handed over the reins to Frank and Curtis. According to the article, Billy was still the CEO of the company, but his hours were cut in half and he would no longer be a part of missions that took place outside of the city. With the article came a handwritten note, and you smiled, recognizing Billy’s handwriting immediately.

Dear Y/N,

I didn’t know if you would see this, so I decided to send it to you myself. I know this won’t fix what I did, or make up for the way I treated you, but I hope it’s a start. I changed my number (putting it on the back of this note). Please give me a call whenever you want. I’ll be waiting.

I’ll always wait for you.

I love you. I miss you.

--Billy Russo

You turned the paper over and saw his number. He probably changed it to avoid some of his old contacts. When you turned it back, your eyes fell to the last line. I love you. I miss you. You brought the paper to your lips and kissed it. Billy wasn’t perfect, but he was yours and you loved him. He was working on himself—and so were you—and that was all you could ask for. You picked up your phone and dialed the number, your fingers moving swiftly with nervous excitement.

Billy picked up on the first ring. “Y/N,” he said, sounding entranced.

“Hi, Billy, I got your letter,” your heart started pounding the second you heard his voice, “Looks like you have some time on your hands.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he said back, “How are you?”

“Fine. Listen, I was wondering…if you had some time next week, maybe we could meet up?”

“I have time now,” Billy’s voice was rushed, “I could be at your place in less than 15 minutes or—” he paused, clearing his throat, “—or I can wait till next week. Of course. Where would you like to meet?”

You put your finger on your chin and pondered his question. Technically, you could wait another week to see Billy, and it could be at a neutral location, but… You didn’t want to wait. You wanted to see him, to hold him. You weren’t necessarily ready to jump all the way back in with Billy, but you’d had enough of being without him. You loved him and were ready to move things forward with him. “Fifteen minutes, huh?” You said, leaning against your kitchen counter with a smirk, “I’m starting the clock now.”

You could almost feel Billy’s smile on the other end od the line. “I’ll make it in ten,” he promised.

You laughed. There was still a lot of work to be done between you and Billy to fix your relationship, but you were willing to do it for as long as Billy was. And he was down for the long run, no matter how hard it could be—and you could tell he was sincere in his dedication.

True to his word—a habit he was determined to keep up with—Billy was at your door in less than 11 minutes. He looked so good, eyes wide and eager, and you felt your love for him well up in your chest like helium in a balloon. You never felt a love as strong as you felt for Billy, and you knew, in that moment, that even though things weren’t always perfect and could be tough, you knew that you wanted to be with Billy for the rest of your life. You took him in your arms then and felt like the jigsaw puzzle that was your life was complete.

From that day on, Billy was never late to any of your dates ever again. Things didn’t pick up exactly where you’d left out, but that ended up being better for the both of you in the long run. You loved Billy, and he loved you, and he spent every day of the rest of your lives making sure you knew that.

You couldn’t have been happier.

***************************************************************************************

TAGLIST: @floralpeaceofmind @delicatelilyflower @doneobrien @ladyblablabla @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor @starsfragments @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @hisgirlwednesdayaddams @fictionwillneverdie @maria-beretta @sadnessxvodka @ymariejp @sunnycolors @moonlightsay @its-all-o-kay @damagelove @keyeluh @itsmylife98 @funerals-with-cake @littlemermaidprobz @teacuplotus @king4thesirens @mrsjaxtellerfan @thebabblingbook @tartelette-aux-fraises @madamrogers @littlemermaidprobz @charlylama @iaintnofurry @k-buggz2001

Thank you for reading, guys! Please let me know how you think about this one. I need validation!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #the punisher #priorities

1K notes · View notes

dabidevito · 5 years

Text

[fic] noctuary

read on ao3

rating: G // words: 4585

summary: (n.) - the record of a single night’s events, thoughts, or dreams

An airport adventure between two sort-of strangers, in the liminal space between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

a/n: this is a gift for @howellaf as part of @phandomficfests holiday exchange, which was an absolute joy to be a part of.

thanks as always to @knlalla for her beta work and constant encouragement. 2019 is not ready for our combined writing power ✨💛

10:21 pm, December 24th (Christmas Eve)

Phil clicks into the Virgin Atlantic app for about the hundredth time that evening, just to check that the departure time hasn’t changed in the last five minutes. He’s always been an anxious flyer. People have begun to congregate around the check-in desk, rounding up kids and various belongings in anticipation of their 10:40 pm boarding call. Phil lingers in the back corner of the gate area, where he’d been lucky enough to secure one of the few charging ports for his phone - one of the perks of being a habitually early traveler.

He bounces his leg restlessly as he waits for the app to refresh. Beyond the terminal’s foggy glass windows, the planes are beginning to accumulate a thin layer of snow. He debates switching over to the weather app on his phone, but knows if he has to look at the cataclysmic blues and purples sprawled over the radar map of New York one more time, his simmering panic will turn into a full-on spiral.

When the departures page finally loads, no thanks to JFK’s terrible WiFi, it's all of Phil's horrible traveling nightmares brought to life.

Virgin Atlantic Flight 154 to London (LHR) - CANCELLED DUE TO INCLEMENT WEATHER Please proceed to the gate agent for rebooking. We apologize for any inconvenience.

Moments later, a collective groan ripples out from the crowd as the news is spread over the loudspeaker, the cancellation now displayed in blazing red font on all the overhead screens. A desperate shuffle towards the ticket counter begins almost immediately, but Phil feels paralyzed in his dingy corner.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Filming for his studio’s latest production was supposed to wrap three days ago, and he should've been settled under a blanket with a cup of his mum's Christmas cocoa by now. Not stranded in bloody America on Christmas Eve after weeks of being away from home. But there'd been delay after delay on set, and with the holiday looming, the entire crew had worked through last night in order to get the final scenes filmed. He’s exhausted and more than a little cranky and suddenly feels totally unprepared to deal with his current worst-case scenario.

He locks his phone and closes his eyes, trying to breathe through the panic of having to book a new flight and find somewhere to stay tonight, and he's all alone in a country that isn't his and do planes even fly on Christmas? What if there's suddenly a problem with his work visa and they don't let him on the plane back to England anyway and no one at the production company will answer the phone because they're all cuddled up under blankets with cups of their mum's hot cocoa and -

"Hey."

Phil jumps as a hand comes down lightly on his shoulder, almost tilting out of his chair from the sudden jolt. The owner of the hand steadies him, fingers curling gently into the fabric of his jumper.

"You okay?" The stranger asks, except when Phil finally follows the line of the man's arm up to his face, he realizes that this person is not a stranger at all. In fact, Phil’s spent nearly every day for the last month with him in some capacity or another. The film that’s the source of his current travel predicament had been resplendent with minor speaking roles, one of which happened to be filled by a certain curly-haired actor with a posh accent. Phil’s sure that the B-roll from his set camera is overflowing with lingering shots of the man who’s currently waiting for him to get his act together and respond to a simple question.

"Oh, it's you," Phil begins, ever a beacon of eloquence. He digs around in his muddled brain for the man's name, trying to blink past the haze of panic that’s taken up residence there.

"Dan," the man supplies, retracting his hand from Phil's shoulder. "From, uh, the movie?"

Phil forces a smile onto his face. "Of course. Sorry, I was just…” He gestures vaguely around his body, not really sure what sort of excuse would play well here.

Dan offers him kind smile, one that’s more genuine than should be possible given the circumstances. “I don’t mean to bother you,” he says, “it’s just that, uh, pretty much everyone’s gotten rebooked already? I sort of - this makes me sound like a weird stalker, I swear I’m not - I just sort of noticed that you hadn’t moved since they made the announcement. And that you looked upset. But it’s really gonna be fine, I think there’s still seats on the first plane out tomorrow morning.”

Phil looks past Dan to the nearly-deserted gate area. A lone mother wrangles her son back into a buggy, various bags scattered around her. The gate agent frowns down at her computer, looking exhausted and like she’d rather be just about anywhere else. She glances wearily between two men standing in front of her desk who appear to be arguing about which flight is better. But the hundreds of other inconvenienced travelers are nowhere to be seen, making Phil feel acutely aware of just how long he’s been sitting here in silent panic. His hands feel clammy with embarrassment, that someone he kind-of-sort-of-not-really knows had to witness him being such an unfunctional, dithering failure of an adult.

“Oh! Right. Um, thank you. For, uh, saving me from sitting here and sulking all night,” Phil says as he begins to gather up his belongings and stuff them into his backpack. Dan shifts from foot to foot in front of him, scuffing his shoe against the off-white tiles.

“Right, yeah, I’m a regular old hero, huh?” Dan mumbles.

Phil glances up the long line of Dan’s body, already feeling a hundred times more at ease than he had just moments ago. “My knight in shining travel accessories,” he says, nodding at the pillow hanging around Dan’s neck and trying to suppress a laugh at his own dumb joke.

Dan flushes pink immediately at the remark, reaching up to touch the shimmery grey material of the pillow. “Oi,” he says, “if you’re gonna be hanging out with me until the bloody snowpocalypse is over, know that I won’t tolerate being made fun of for having a sense of both fashion and practicality.”

(The way his bottom lip sticks out in a little pout is illegal in about ten countries, Phil thinks. Or at least it should be.)

Phil finally gets to his feet, hoisting his backpack over his right shoulder.

"Oh, are we, uh? You want to hang out with me?" Phil honestly hadn't expected that. He'd begun to resign himself to a night alone at the airport, wandering around and lost in his own anxieties.

Dan starts reversing course immediately, much to Phil’s dismay. "Sorry, uh, we don't have to, of course, you probably want to uh, get a hotel or something. Not hang out with some guy you barely know all night. I'll just uh, see you around, or something." He's already started walking backwards and away from Phil, refusing to even meet his gaze.

"Wait, no," Phil says. "Sorry, I didn't mean - ugh." He breathes out a laugh at both of their awkwardness. Dan is looking at him with something like curiosity, or maybe hope. "Just - would you mind waiting for me? While I go see about getting on a new flight?"

Dan smiles, looking immensely relieved. "Yeah. 'Course. There's one that departs around 8 am, that's what I've got."

The gate area is well and truly deserted now as Phil makes his way over to the desk. He manages to get the final seat on the morning flight, and he shoots Dan a smile and a thumbs up as the gate agent prints out his new ticket. Phil pockets the slip of glossy paper and thanks her profusely, wishing her a happy holiday before wandering back over to where Dan's sat typing something into his phone.

He looks up as Phil approaches, locking his phone and getting to his feet. "Hey," Dan says. "Fancy a coffee? There's a Starbucks in Terminal 5 that's open til 1 am."

"Now you really are my knight in shining armor," Phil says, grinning. "C'mon, if I have to stare out at the snow-covered planes any longer, I'll go mental." He bumps his shoulder lightly into Dan's, nudging him towards some promising-looking directional signs.

11:47 pm

Dan presses some of America's weird green paper money into Phil’s hand as they enter the Starbucks, waving away Phil's protestations before they can even leave his mouth.

"I'll get us a table. Surprise me," Dan says, nodding towards the festively-patterned menu hanging above the counter before disappearing in the direction of an empty corner table. Phil stares up at the options, racking his brain for a memory of watching Dan fill a paper coffee cup from the catering table on set. There'd been a bottle of caramel syrup, staunchly ignored by the rest of the cast and crew, that he’d noticed Dan drain into his own cup day after day.

The barista coughs pointedly to get Phil's attention. "What can I get for you, sir?" she asks.

"Um, two grande caramel macchiatos and two of whatever pastries you've got left. Surprise me," Phil says, deciding to take a page out of Dan's book. He's pretty sure the barista rolls her eyes at him, but she produces two chocolate croissants from the case anyway and starts on preparing the drinks. Phil drops some stray American coins from his pocket into her tip jar. It's Christmas, and he (hopefully) won't have any use for them after tonight anyway.

Dan is staring out the window at the runway as Phil makes his way over to the table he's claimed. Stupid planes. Part of the glass has fogged over from the temperature difference, and Dan's drawn a frowny face into the condensation.

"Draw a Christmas tree at least," Phil says lightly as he sets down their feast and pulls out the opposite chair for himself. Dan begrudgingly obliges him, dragging his left pointer finger against the glass again. He smiles at Phil when he's finished, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

"Better?"

"Now our Christmas celebrations can really begin," Phil says with a laugh, pushing one of the red cups towards Dan. "Cheers."

Just then, Phil's phone screen lights up from with a text from his mum. Merry Christmas darling, see you soon. We all miss you xx, it reads. His lockscreen mocks him with the time in large white font: 12:01 am. Despite the winter weather and the cheery Christmas tunes playing softly over the speakers, his heart feels heavy in his chest. He wasn't supposed to spend Christmas like this.

When he glances across the table, Dan is looking down at his phone as well, frowning. Phil wonders what his text says, if it's from his own mum too. It makes his heart ache even more, to see Dan's dimple disappear into sadness. Under the table, he nudges his foot gently into Dan's.

Dan glances up, thumbs still poised over his phone. "Hey," Phil says softly, "Merry Christmas?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question.

Dan tilts his head a bit but offers him a small smile. "Yeah," he says. "Merry Christmas, Phil." He stretches his leg out under the table and leans it fully into Phil's, warmth seeping in even through two layers of denim.

1:05 am, December 25th (Christmas Day)

The Starbucks employees kick them out at precisely one o'clock.

They wander aimlessly through the terminal, past closed shops and a handful of weary travelers. Phil's always thought that airports exist in another dimension, one where nothing is quite right and anything is possible.

Here, a pretty boy who Phil's camera lingered on for too long takes giant, caffeine-fueled strides forward on the skywalk only to make a show of running back towards Phil against the direction of the moving walkway. He finally makes it after a few missteps, giggling as he trips and falls against the railing. Phil's laughing too, taking Dan by the arm and guiding them both off the end of the conveyor belt. In a fit of bravery (or maybe stupidity), Phil doesn't let go once they're on solid ground; instead, he links his arm through Dan's and leans minutely into his side. Phil watches a small rosy patch bloom on Dan's cheek as they keep walking, Dan tugging him closer with every step.

1:13 am

There's only a few open establishments in their terminal at this hour, one of which is a small tiki-themed bar complete with gaudy straw decorations and a lone bartender polishing some pineapple-shaped glasses. Phil immediately drags Dan over to two of the many open barstools - he feels like they deserve a drink after all they've been through tonight. Dan doesn't put up much of fight, just drops his backpack next to Phil's and takes a seat.

"What can I get ya, fellas?" The bartender asks them in a thick Texan accent. Or maybe Phil just thinks all American accents sound Texan. Phil swivels in his stool to face Dan. "What d'ya drink, mate?" He asks.

Dan leans onto the bartop, propping his head up in his right hand. "You look like a piña colada kind of guy," he says to Phil.

"Oi, what gave me away?" Phil says, laughing and turning back to Mr. Maybe-Texan. "Two of those, please."

Two turns into four turns into six, until they're both hunched over Phil's phone laughing at the absurdity of his Instagram explore page. Dan's curls are wild from the way he keeps pushing them out of his eyes, and the alcohol has given his face a pink flush that spreads down and under the collar of his shirt. Phil's about three coconut-infused sips away from saying something incredibly stupid like you're so fucking pretty or I'm glad I got stuck here with you or a slew of even more problematic things like do you live in London? I'd love to see you sometime.

"Alright, last call boys," says their bartender, startling Phil out of his rum-induced daydreams. Dan wrestles Phil's phone fully out of his hands, squinting down at the time.

"'S'not even three yet!" He exclaims, clumsily getting to his feet and leaning fully over Phil’s lap to protest more directly at Mr. Definitely-Not-Texan, who’s stood at the other end of the bar. He steadies himself with a hand pressed directly onto Phil's thigh, the other splayed across the bartop. Phil's piña colada brain knows that it only makes logical sense for him to wrap an arm around Dan's waist, to hold him close so that he won't topple over. Dan seems to comply with this genius plan, leaning even further into Phil's side and continuing his lament.

"There's not - d’ya know, it can't be last call because, because. Because! You haven't - we haven't even had any pizza yet! Phil, Phil, tell 'em, everyone knows you can't have last call until there's pizza! Isn't that - this bloody country has no good laws, I'm telling ya, pizza is the law! Phil - " Dan accentuates his point by poking Phil in the chest. "Tell me I'm right. You know I'm right. We need pizza."

"We need pizza," Phil confirms, nodding his head solemnly at Dan who is so close, so close and soft and warm against him, and -

"You're out of luck there," the bartender says. "Most everything's shut down for the night. You'll have to sleep it off instead, but you can't do it here. Sorry boys."

Phil has the distinct sense that Dan's about to turn up the dramatics to method-actor levels based on the deep inhale he takes. Regretfully, he nudges Dan out of his lap in order to sign the check, effectively cutting off his inevitable rant, and Dan sits back on his own stool to pout.

3:02 am

With nowhere else to go, they wander back towards their new plane's gate. At least, Phil's pretty sure they're headed in the right direction. Mostly he's just been following Dan.

It feels like they walk for ages, the buzz of the alcohol steadily wearing off and being replaced with a wave of exhaustion. Phil lags behind Dan for long enough that he finally stops and turns around, holding out his hand and waiting for Phil to catch up.

Phil stops too, admiring the way Dan looks like this. A bit hazy around the edges from the outdated prescription of his spare glasses, smiling and asking without words for Phil to hold his hand. It's a good image. Probably the best he could've asked for, given the circumstances. It's more than enough to motivate him to drag his heavy feet across the floor and slip his hand into Dan's. In this moment, he’d happily miss another plane just to keep Dan looking at him the way he is right now.

They walk for another eternity before reaching their gate, where a handful of people are slouched awkwardly in the small chairs. Some are asleep, some are illuminated by a blue electronic glow, and some are just simply staring off into space. Phil spots a lone outlet in a corner, but there aren't any chairs near it. He tugs Dan towards it anyway, knowing that both of their phones are low on power.

The carpet's not pristine but it looks clean enough, so they both collapse happily against the wall.

Dan digs around in his bag awkwardly for his phone charger with his right hand, still holding onto Phil's with his left. Dan's hand is warm and soft in his, and Phil takes the opportunity to examine it in more detail, holding it up in front of his face in the dim light.

"Oi, do you have some weird hand fetish you haven't told me about?" Dan’s got a laugh behind his eyes and that damn rosy patch in bloom on his cheek again and Phil is so, so done for.

Phil folds the limb in question under both of his own hands, clutching it protectively to his chest. “Hands are the best part of a person!” He asserts. “I won’t be kinkshamed in public, Daniel.”

“How about in private, then?”

Surely Phil hasn’t heard that correctly. He’s got rum and coconut sloshing around in his veins and surely Dan hasn’t just insinuated that he and Phil might see each other after this whole travel fiasco is finished. He opens his mouth to reply but can’t find any words to properly express just how much he’d like the opportunity to do just that.

Dan’s fingers tap out a quick rhythm against Phil’s t-shirt. “Your heart’s racing.”

“You make me nervous,” Phil replies, finally. Maybe he’s still got some of that liquid courage left.

Dan pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, considering. “Good nervous?”

“Yeah,” Phil laughs. “Good nervous.”

4:38 am

Even in the middle of the night, airports are never truly quiet. But in the little corner they’ve settled into here, Phil feels the calmest he’s been in a good long while.

Dan’s head is a warm, solid weight on his shoulder, soft brown curls tickling at his jaw. The pair of earbuds split between them plays something unfocused and dreamy and instrumental from Dan’s phone, lulling Phil into a weird sort of 4 am trance as he stares out at the darkness of the runway. It’s not the kind of music Phil would ever pick for himself, but he kind of likes the way it lets him drift to thinking about other things. Like Dan’s long, slow, half-asleep breaths. The way he curls the fabric of his hoodie over his knuckles.

They’re still a good three hours from sunrise but he knows that the airport will wake up painfully soon, that people will begin to arrive in short order and drag themselves onto the first early morning flights and they’ll be swept up in the rush of it all. He and Dan will board the same plane but sit twenty rows apart on opposite sides of the aisle, and that just feels so fundamentally wrong in a way he can’t understand.

Dan shifts against him and blinks open his eyes, straightening up and dragging a hand over his face. “Mmpft. Sorry. Think I dozed off for a minute there.”

He looks over at Phil, sleepy and fond. An intrusive thoughts worms its way into Phil’s brain, of seventy-five more Christmases of seeing Dan like this.

“You should sleep a bit longer,” he says softly, “before it gets too loud in here.” There’s already more and more people walking past their gate every minute. Phil tugs gently on the sleeve of Dan’s hoodie, and Dan comes easily, reaching for his phone and skipping through a few songs before settling back down against Phil. He wedges Phil’s arm out from between their bodies, draping it across his shoulders instead. “Need coffee,” he grumbles, already sounding half-asleep again.

“We just had coffee,” he tells Dan’s hair. Hadn’t they? It sort of feels like an entire lifetime has transpired between now and then.

“Ugh, that was ages ago. Need something festive this time, it’s Christmas now.”

Phil makes a little noise of agreement. Perhaps the festive beverage ranking he’s been working on could use a second opinion. He sets an alarm for an hour on his own phone, tapping slowly and awkwardly with his left hand, before returning to staring out the window. There’s a small army of snow ploughs clearing the area around the parked planes, and Phil can see a few stray snowflakes still falling in the glow of the floodlights.

He makes sure that their backpacks are still tucked in securely between his body and the wall and that the boy he’d fancied from afar just 24 hours ago is resting soundly at his other side before letting his own eyes drift closed.

5:54 am

It’s a different barista than the one who’d politely kicked them out five hours ago, but they still manage to claim the same corner table in Terminal 5’s Starbucks, condensation issues and all. A ghost of Dan’s Christmas tree still lingers in the morning fog.

Phil shows Dan the festive ranking in his Notes app, which Dan is more than happy to tear apart and completely rearrange. The destruction is worth it for the way Dan’s dimple keeps appearing in his cheek each time he moves anything with white chocolate further down the list. Phil stretches his legs fully into Dan’s space under the table and stubbornly refuses to look at the clock.

6:28 am

There’s nothing to do besides talk, which is just fine by Phil. He’s never been one to overshare but he likes hearing Dan’s voice, likes hearing about his life. About how he technically works as a law consultant but only really finds joy in acting, even though he’ll probably never land enough roles to quit his day job. About how missing out on extra time spent petting his family’s dog is the true tragedy of Christmas. About how he doesn’t usually make a habit of flirting with his cameramen, thank you very much, but he might just make an exception for ones who let him sleep on their shoulder all night.

Maybe it’s fine that the clock keeps ticking, that they’re now within an hour of their boarding call. New York’s been pretty good to him, but he has a feeling that being back home in London is going to be even better.

7:31 am

They find actual chairs to sit in at their gate this time, despite the crowd that’s gathered there. Dan’s talking on the phone with someone, presumably his mum by the way his entire side of the conversation is yeah and mhmm and I know. He’s sat cross-legged in his chair, long limbs somehow tucked up neatly under his ` body, one knee overlapping casually with Phil’s thigh. Phil traces shapes into the denim of his jeans there, stars and squiggles and something that he imagines would be a cross between a chinchilla and an armadillo if he could actually see it.

“Attention passengers, in just a few moments we will begin boarding for British Airways Flight BA178 to London, currently on time for an 8:05 am departure. At this time we’d like the begin pre-boarding for customers with...”

“Yeah, okay mum, listen, I gotta go, we’re boarding now. Okay. Yeah. Love you too, see you soon. Mhmm. Okay. Bye.” Dan ends the call, glancing around at the hectic departure scene before turning to Phil with a small smile. He takes Phil’s restless fingers and slots them between his own, a gesture that Phil is already fully addicted to.

Dan nods down at the boarding pass clutched in Phil’s other hand. “What number are you?” he asks.

“Four. You?”

Dan scrunches up his nose. “Five. How were you literally the last person to get a seat on this plane but still able to end up boarding before me?”

Phil can’t help his grin. “Guess I’ve just been lucky recently, hmm?”

8:01 am

Phil leans as far into the window as he can, watching the last few suitcases get loaded onto the plane. His brain has finally slipped into overtired and cranky mode, and he really has no desire to be in close proximity to any grumpy stranger sat next to him right now.

Well. Maybe there’s one grumpy sort-of-stranger that he wouldn't mind.

The man in the aisle seat makes a disgruntled noise as someone stops to hover over him, but Phil keeps his eyes trained out on the runway. Probably it’s just the flight attendant closing up the overhead compartments.

“Hey, I’ve got a seat up in 21B that I’ll trade you for,” says a decidedly not-flight attendant voice. “It’s first off after business class, and the guy in the window’s already asleep. Won’t be any trouble for you, unlike this one.” He nods at Phil, smiling his stupid dimpled smile like this is the best plan anyone’s ever executed in all of airplane history.

(It kind of is, in Phil’s opinion.)

The actual flight attendant comes up the aisle behind Dan. “Sir, I really need you to sit down now.”

“C’mon mate,” Dan says, as though the swap is already a done deal. Mr. Grumpy McGrumpFace looks between him and Phil before unbuckling his seatbelt and brushing past them towards the front of the plane. The flight attendant sighs and turns to follow him, and Dan swings his bag up top before slouching down dramatically next to Phil.

“Hello,” Dan says, cheeky smile still on his face.

Phil just shakes his head fondly, trying unsuccessfully to hide how pleased he is at this turn of events. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hm. Guess that’s something you’ll just have to get used to.”

The plane rumbles to life under them, someone speaking too softly over the tinny intercom. Dan produces his phone from his pocket, unraveling his headphones once again and handing one to Phil. “Your turn to sleep this time,” he says, reaching across to pull the windowshade down against the morning sun.

“Only if you play music that will give me Christmassy dreams.”

Dan just laughs and tugs Phil closer, typing ‘Mariah Carey’ into the search bar as they start to lift into the sky.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #dnp #dan and phil #*rosewrites

121 notes · View notes

poorlittleklainer · 5 years

Text

Day Five: Exclude

Set during the summer that Kurt and Rachel move to NY after the original story ends.

Despite being able to drive out with Rachel and me to move into our loft, Blaine had to leave pretty soon afterwards on his next tour, which would take him to the areas of the country that he hadn't been able to get to during his tour last summer. During that time, even though I was finally in New York, it was just the same as this last year. Our only interactions were through our cell phones or computer screens. However, one of the things I continued to do was watch his interviews. It always was a joy to see him on the television, talking about his album or his tour or what's next in his life.

"Kurt, the commercial break's almost over!" Rachel calls out from the couch. I turn back to our living room to see the current commercial ending and the intro music to the talk show Blaine was doing start. I grab the two tea mugs I had been making and carry both of them to the couch, handing Rachel hers and sitting down next to her. We both turn to look as the interviewers start to introduce Blaine.

"He's just won a Grammy for Best New Artist, and is currently traveling across the country on his tour, Blaine Anderson Dreams. He has recently released his third album, Dreams, available on iTunes and stores everywhere. Please join us in welcoming teen singing sensation Blaine Anderson!" The crowd breaks out into loud applause as Blaine walks out, his usual charming dapper self as he waves to the audience. He kisses the cheek of the interviewer, it surprises me with how much I watch these talk shows that I have no idea who any of these people are. They sit down, and it takes a couple seconds for the audience to die down.

"Hello, Blaine. How are you doing?" She asks. Blaine grins widely, and to anyone that doesn't know him, he looks completely at ease. But I can tell, behind his put together demeanor, he's exhausted.

"I'm doing great! How are you?" He says.

"I'm good, I'm good. Um, so you're currently on your second national tour. How's that going?" She quickly gets started on asking about the tour.

"It's great, it's really been such a blast. I get to go to all these different states and see all these different people and do what I love doing and that's singing. If you think about it, I'm getting paid to do the thing I normally do all the time at home," the audience laughs at Blaine's comment, and I can't help but chuckle along at how true those words are.

"How often would you say you just suddenly break into song?" She asks. Blaine laughs at her question, and it takes him no time at all to answer back.

"All the time. I'll be cooking dinner and I'm singing along to the radio. I'll be getting dressed and suddenly start humming along to whatever tune pops into my head. I probably spend more time singing than I do talking which can sometimes annoy everybody who's around me," Blaine answers.

"Do you ever like, start singing something and realize that you're singing a song of yours that hasn't been released yet or a tune that you think, 'hey, that'd be a really cool chorus?'" Blaine takes a second to think, but I don't need to even think about that answer.

"All the time," I whisper, causing Rachel to laugh next to me.

"Sometimes, I think. I don't even remember much of what I sing normally, my boyfriend would probably have a much different answer than I do," Blaine says. Rachel and I laugh at Blaine's truthful statement, and I'm already pulling out my phone to text him, knowing his phone is in his dressing room.

"Speaking of your boyfriend, you guys kind of jumped into public life pretty quickly last year. Your Grammy appearance for example and after that you've had both positive and also some negative feedback, am I correct?" Blaine nods, bringing the microphone back up to his face quickly.

"Yeah, it's definitely, kind of surreal when I stop and think about it because I grew up with people trying to keep me in the closet. And so when I came out to my close friends and family, it was a completely different experience than when I came out publicly during my first tour. And so now, when I get messages from fans saying 'oh you're so brave for doing what you're doing' and hearing the stories of their own experiences it completely shocks me. So when I mention my boyfriend or I'm out with him, and there's so many positive messages, and yeah there are some negatives messages, but the overwhelming majority of people's support is positive, sometimes it just, blows my mind," Blaine answers. I listen on with a smile, knowing from experience the kind of messages people send Blaine, having read the few that he keeps in his little recording room in the penthouse that impact him the most personally.

"Because a lot of people view you guys as a kind of role model, are there ever times when you wish that you hadn't introduced your relationship to the public and excluded your private live from your public life?" Blaine takes another minute to think about his answer, and I have to admit, I'm curious about it too. Sure, sometimes the public aspect of our relationship sucks, the fact that there are rumors and things of that nature that constantly pop up that we try to ignore is a good example, but I wouldn't really change anything.

"I'd be lying if I said there weren't times when I thought that," Blaine begins, "but at the same time, he has become such a huge part of my life, knowing him he's probably watching this right now back in New York," Rachel and I laugh, and I pull out my phone to text him guilty as charged, of course I'm watching you idiot while he continues. "I think that we have a chance to reach more people by being so open about our relationship and ourselves. We're able to show not only young gay kids but also anybody else who identifies as different and gets picked on because of it that it will get better in the future. And that's so important to both of us, to show that while things may not look so good right now, they get so much better down the road," he finishes. The audience applauds his last answer, and I smile proudly at the image of him on the screen, knowing that he means every single word he just said, and I'm immensely proud to be able to say he's mine.

"That's all the time that we have right now. Blaine will be preforming tonight, details are on our website right now, along with his schedule so if you can't make his performance tonight, maybe you can make another one in the future. Blaine, it was so nice to have you."

"Thank you for letting me on the show," he quickly says. The interviewer smiles and looks back at the camera.

"After the break, we will be talking with-" Rachel turns the television off, and I turn to her, still smiling.

"I will be sleeping with my noise cancelling headphones on because last time he gave an interview like that, you two kept me up half the night making noises I don't want to know my best friend makes. So, that said, goodnight," she gets up and heads towards her bedroom while I blush. I take my mug of tea into my bedroom and pull the curtain around, grabbing my laptop and headphones before I send a text to Blaine.

Hurry up and get onto Skype.

#klaine advent 2018 #klaine advent: exclude #love and fame universe

10 notes · View notes

cherrycxsmos · 3 years

Text

Singularity

I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring at 6:29 in the morning. Letting out an exhausted yawn I force myself out of bed. A shiver runs through my body as my feet touch the cold marble floor. I trudge over to the bathroom, hitting my pinky toe on my desk chair in the process. A small hiss left my lips and I limp to the bathroom, turning on the light. The brightness of the light has me temporarily shielding my eyes as my pupils get used to the change. I glance up at the mirror and I catch sight of my tired, worn out, and annoyed appearance since I was robbed of my 1 minute of sleep. Baggy eyes, disheveled afro, dried up drool at each corner of my mouth. I let out a quiet chuckle and turned on the water faucet so I could wash my face and brush my teeth.

It’s too quiet.

“Alexa, play my k-pop music box playlist, volume to 3”, I said loud enough for the speaker to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb the rooms that surrounded mine. The soft music played through my room as I finished getting ready for the day.

By 9 am I was ready for my first class of the day, but I would rather stay in bed. I sigh and begin to walk out the door when I receive an email from my professor. “Class has been cancelled. Please work on the assignment that is written on the syllabus and prepare it for the next class.” Overcome with immense joy, I step back inside of my apartment and return to my room. I throw my bag onto my chair and climb on to my bed. I grab my koala stuffed animal and cling on to it as an actual koala would cling and the warmth of my blanket makes it easy for me to fall into a euphoric state of sleep.

Wake up…

“Lorelei wake up...” I awake to the feeling of someone shaking me. I stretch and yawn, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and see that it’s my best friend and roommate, Hani.

“Eonni... You’re gonna be late to your Korean class. Get up.” Hani says with an annoyed tone and her arms crossed. I check the time and oh my goodness it’s almost noon. I shoot up from my bed and grab my bag from my bean bag chair.

“Do you think I will have enough time to get food?” I ask, “Class doesn’t start for another 45 minutes.” She shrugs and sits down at her desk.

“If you hurry up and get there in the next…” She pauses to look at her watch and continues,

“15 minutes, you should be fine.” I shoot her a thumbs up before putting on my pink fluffy slides and rushing out of the dorm.

As soon as I step outside, the warm summer air greets me. It’s not terribly hot outside like it has been for the past few days. Should I get a snack or an actual meal? I look at the time seeing that I only have about 20 minutes before my next class starts. It looks like I’ll only have time for a snack. I walk briskly to the nearest corner market. Walking into the store, the smell of fresh bread fills the air and I see that a line of about 5-6 has formed in front of the cashier. I make a beeline straight to where the kimbap and the egg sandwiches are and I take one of each. By the time I get to the line, it has gone down to 3 people. I stand in line for 5 minutes before I’m next and I quickly pay for my food and hurry back to campus.

As I walk into the building, a group of students that are in my class are standing outside of the classroom waiting for the door to be unlocked. There are some students talking about a party happening this weekend and their plans after this class, while others are stressing over a grade they got on their test in their last class. I lean my body against the wall and close my eyes, still tired from my nap, when I feel someone tap my shoulder. I open my eyes partly and turn my head to see my classmate that I am pretty good friends with, Eden.

“Are you feeling alright?” Eden questions with concern etched over her face.

I nod and stand up straight. “I’m just drained.. if I could drop out, I would but my parents would kill me. And I’d honestly give anything not to be in this class right now.” I reply with a chuckle. Eden nods and looks around my shoulder, pointing at the students that are filing inside of the classroom.

“Lets go, the door is unlocked.” She moves towards the classroom. Following her into the room, I see a few new students and the most alluring guy catches my eye. I find myself staring and we make eye contact for half of a second before I look away. I quickly walk to my seat next to Eden and set my food down on the desk.

“Hey… Eden… Did you happen to see the new guy?” I ask her in a voice loud enough for only her to hear. She scans the room with a confused look on her face.

“Which one?” She asks. Before I can utter another word she notices. “Ohhhhh him?” She says loud enough for the whole class to hear. My eyes widen in sheer panic. I take a quick glance around the room to see if anyone heard her and I made eye contact with the new boy again.

My face begins to heat up and I turn away from him utterly mortified. “Pipe down!” I exclaim as I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment and Eden suppresses a laugh. I fan my face to ease the heat from the embarrassment I have been subjected to. As soon as I calm down, I put my kimbap in my bag and unwrap my sandwich, taking a bite out of it.

The surrounding chatter from the other students starts to die down as soon as our professor walks in. I internally groan. This man is the definition of boring. He sets his stuff down on the podium and starts his lecture.

“Good afternoon class. Today you will be starting on a presentation, and it has to be on something that we haven't learned about already in this class. Since this is beginner Korean, I’m not going to have you do it all in Korean. You guys can do it over the history of Korea itself, or pick an era during the Korean Kingdoms. I am going to pair you guys up. This project is due by the end of the semester so work diligently on it.” He then clears his throat to begin to call out our names and assign pairs.

“I hope he partners us up together.” Eden whispers to me. I shrug knowing better than that. “I highly doubt it,” I respond between bites. ‘“Eden Yaloussi and Rylee Lambert…. Lorelai Beaulieu and Leo Castillo…” He starts to list monotonously. Leo Castillo? Who is that?

“... Winnie Lau and Helena Brown… I think that's everyone. Please go ahead and break out into your pairs.” He sits his paper down and saunters up to the board to write our due date. I looked over to Eden, who is already packing up her stuff to move.

“Do you know who Leo Castillo is?” I ask her as I take the last bite of my sandwich. She shakes her head.

“That would be me.” Someone voices.

I shift my gaze to the boy that just walked up and is now standing beside Eden. It's the new guy. Now that he is up close, he’s taller than I had originally thought. Eden quickly shuffles away and I stand up to greet him.

“Hi, I’m Lorelai.”

“I’m Leo.” He responds back with a smile. I sit back down in my seat and gesture to the seat next me beckoning him to sit down. He moves to sit down next to me and the warm smell of his cologne wafts to my nose and intoxicates me.

“So… I think we should do our project on the Goryeo Dynasty. There’s a lot of information on that time and we can even focus on one of the many popular kings.” I suggest and he just nods along. I glance at him and take note of tanned skin and scattered freckles along his cheeks.

“I’m free after this class if you want to get started on it. We can meet in the library. ” He says and I nod in agreement. I write down our topic, as well as the due date that our professor had written up on the board.

I start packing my stuff and peek up at Leo and see that he has focused his gaze elsewhere. “Do you want to walk together to the library?”

He shifts his gaze back to me and awkwardly laughs. “I thought that’s what we were going to do anyways.”

“Well I didn’t want to assume.” I laughed.

Soon after, the professor ends class and students begin filing out of the classroom. I pick up my book bag and turn to Leo who was packing his things.

“Ready?” I ask him

“Yeah, let’s go.”

With that, we walk out of the room and out of the building towards the library.

As we walk, the sound of other students' conversations fills the air and the sensible smell of magnolias and freshly mowed grass surrounds us.

“So.. since we are partners, I guess it’s only customary that I get to know you a bit better.” I recommend, peeking up at him.

He lets out a chuckle and nods. “Okay. What do you wanna know?”

“Anything.. Like where are you from? What’s your major?” “Hollister, California and I used to major in Computer Science but I changed my major to International Affairs. What about you?” He asks.

“Me? Well.. I’m from Vancouver, Washington and I major in Business. And I guess that explains why you’re in Beginners Korean” I respond back to him.

He nods his head and hums quietly. The rest of the walk to the library is silent between us, only the sound of the birds chirping and cars passing by in the distance could be heard. Five minutes later, we reach the library and Leo holds the door open, allowing me to walk in first.

As I walk in, the familiar woody smell of the building as well as the scent of old books fill my nose. I lead Leo to an emptier area of the library and find a table big enough for us to spread our belongings out on. I set my book bag down on top of the table and take out my kimbap.

“Would you like some?” I ask Leo, knowing it would be rude for me to eat in front of him without offering.

He shakes his head. “No thank you. I ate before class.”

I shrug and sit down, pulling out my notebook and a pencil. “Okay.. So I know the basics of that era. It was founded by Wang Geon, who would be the first ruler of the dynasty, he unified the majority of the other kingdoms under Goryeo, and he had a lot of political reforms. That’s about it.” I twiddle my pencil in between my fingers and sigh. Leo takes a seat across from me and takes out his laptop. “Well that’s somewhat of a start. The only ruler I really only know about is Wang So… Well Gwangjong because of that one Korean drama. Scarlet Heart I think it’s called” He chuckles. I look at Leo in utter amazement. He looks back at me with a clueless look on his face. “I know that drama too.” I tell him in an excited whisper. He grins and we begin to talk about how one character was done wrong, completely forgetting about the reason we came to the library in the first place. I find myself staring at him as he spoke, taking into account the tiny details that I missed when I first came in contact with him. The raspiness of his voice, his emerald green eyes, and his honey coloured hair.

Lorelai..

“Lorelai.. Earth to Lorelai…” Leo waves his hand and front of my face and I jolt up.

“I am so sorry. I zoned out for a second. It happens a lot… too much if you ask me..” The feeling of embarrassment washing over my body. “Let’s… Get back to work.”

We worked this way everyday until it was our time to present. During this time, we got to know more about each other. We even spent time together outside of working on the project. I started to notice the little quirks that he had and he probably didn’t notice that he had them. Like the way he would tilt his head whenever someone confused him. He told me that isn’t the type to get angry and he is rather patient. We learned about each other's likes and dislikes during the month we worked together and it made us closer than we thought. I

Finally, it was the day of our presentation.

At 6:30 am, I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring. I force myself out of bed and hobble over to the bathroom, being careful not to hurt myself like I usually do every morning. I do my usual morning routine of brushing my teeth and skincare. My professor for my 8 am class cancelled again so this gives me more time to do my hair and makeup. I also make sure to eat breakfast so I am not rushing to get food before class.

A few hours later, I was ready for class. As I am leaving the room, Hani walks in with a look of glee on her face.

“Well well well.. I don’t think I have ever seen you this happy.” I backtrack and see how happy she really looks .

“I just got an A on my project for European history and an A on my statistics and marketing exam!” She exclaims as she plops down on her bed.

“Congratulations! I know you needed those two As in order for you to pass the class right?”

She nods and sighs out in sheer joy. “Now my parents won’t be on my tail about failing.”

“That’s true.. Well I have to get going now, I’m going to be late.” I say to her and before I can leave, she stops me.

“Eonni… You haven’t told him yet have you?” She questions.

I let out an embarrassed giggle. “No.. but I will today.. after class..” I respond back and scurry out of the room before she can say anything else. Walking out of the dorm, the smell of burnt charcoal from a barbeque fills my nose and the warm summer air touches my skin. Thankfully I picked out the right clothes for the weather. I travel to the building where my class is in and see that people have already gone inside. I stroll inside of the classroom and see that Eden and Leo were already seated. I wave at Leo and move to go sit in my seat beside Eden.

“So… have you told him yet?” Eden asks before I can get comfortable.

I sighed. “I’m going to tell him after class.”

She looked at me with a determined demeanor. “You better. You have to say something before it’s too late.”

She’s right…

Moments later, the professor walks in and sets his stuff down on the podium, starting his lecture.

“Today you guys will be presenting. We will have two pairs go today and 2 pairs go next class.” He pauses briefly, looking at his list. “First up is Lorelai and Leo. Their presentation is on the Goryeo Dynasty.”

Leo and I move from our seats and up to the front of the class. Leo goes to the computer to pull up the powerpoint presentation.

Leo moves to stand next to me once the powerpoint is pulled up.

“Hello my name is Lorelai.”

“And my name is Leo. Our project is on the Goryeo Dynasty.”

We spend ten minutes presenting, talking about the major accomplishments of the Goryeo Dynasty as well as some key figures. We finish with a bow and walk back to our seats. “Leo.. I need to talk to you after class. It’s important.”

Glancing over at him, I watch him look down at his phone and his expression changes from a neutral expression to one of seriousness. He looks over at me and I quickly look away.

Fifteen minutes go by and the pair is done presenting, they go back to their seats and the professor comes back up to the podium. “Thank you to the two pairs that presented. That was very informational. Alright guys.” The professor says with a yawn. “I’ll see you guys next class. Be safe.”

The students begin to file out of the class and I see Leo follow everyone out of class. I get up from my seat and say my goodbyes to Eden and a few of my other classmates before walking out of the classroom.

“Lorelai!” I hear a familiar voice call out.

I turn to see that it’s Leo and a wave of anxiety floods over me.

How am I going to tell this guy that I like him?

“You said that you had something important to tell me?”

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath and exhale.

Now is the time to tell him… I can’t wait any longer.

“Leo… The time that I spent with you has made me the happiest person and I just wanted to tell you that I like you..” I blurt out.

He’s silent and another wave of anxiety washes over me.

“Say something… Anything..” I say and I begin to lose the bit of confidence I had left.

A/N: Should I continue?

#kpop #korean #drabble #fanfic

0 notes

clm3mc · 4 years

Text

Where Are We Now?

Wowza. 2020. What a doozy it’s been.

Here we are in October and we STILL are in so many states of uncertainty, awkwardness, and anxiety.

Things have gotten better. A bit. It seems that the risk has lowered as numbers have gone down and treatments have gone up. People are still dying. But it doesn’t seem as dire.

Our President has it. He’s downplaying the risk.

And we are trying to enjoy our time while still dealing with complications.

Boston is distance learning. Still. Mostly due to Kim wanting to pull him out of school and have him with her wherever she is.

We aren’t sure where they are going to live in a couple weeks. So that’s fine.

Things at the church have slowly started to reopen. We had our first Grove service this past weekend and it went really well. We’re having planning meetings about the new Contemporary service and trying to sort out the best way to rebrand something after 7 months of hiatus. A full time job is still only being talked about.

And the biggest news is that we are now homeowners! In the middle of a pandemic we somehow were able to qualify for loans that gave us the ability to afford a house. So. Crazy. We are finally getting settled in and starting to find our new rhythms.

But.

Things feel weird. Months of not having small group, in person worship, regular gatherings, regular check-ins, hang outs, trips...it’s all starting to weigh us down

Yes, God is enough. His grace is enough. It can sustain. It can give us all we need.

Yet, we have been isolated, dealing with anxious times. And it’s taken a toll.

Worshiping, praying, journaling...it’s hard. Not because God has changed. But we are having to adjust where we’re being filled from. We’re exhausted from all the stillness. We look into our fridges and think...not another night. I can’t cook another night. We look at our phones and think about calling someone...not another person that is depressed and anxious. I can’t deal with that right now. We get our hopes up for little things and then find them cancelled, postponed, forced to be socially distant. Another disappointment.

Am I whining right now? Yes, and I know it. We are still so blessed. We have a home! A marriage! A great kid! Jobs! Family! Friends! But things are just kind of blah right now.

I pray for this time to come to an end. Feeling guilty about spending time with the people you love is maddening. It eats away at you. I’m tired of that.

I pray for anxiety, control, depression and fear to cease. We can’t live like this all the time. We need relief. We need celebration. We need joy!

I pray for hope and anticipation to bolster us like never before. We know the day is coming when we will be on the other side of this. Whatever that side may look like. We know it’s coming. We hope for God’s working!

I pray for us to no longer be so quick to divide ourselves, angry at people that we once called friends, judging others for what they believe. Give us soft hearts, understanding spirits, and the ability to have empathy for others.

God, most of all, I pray for Your Spirit to work in my life, my family, my home, my friends, my job, and all over our world. Without You, we are nothing. By Your Spirit we live, we breathe, we have our being. Our being has been a shadow not by anything You have done but by our lack of reliance upon You. Refresh me again and grant me Your peace. Be in me and help me to be a hope-bringer. Help me to see the plan that You have for us and to encourage others to see it too.

Thank you for the immense blessings You have brought to our family during this time. Every disappointment has been small in comparison to so many others. Heal the sick, grant wisdom to our leaders, and unite Your children to spread FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE throughout our world.

In Jesus’ name I pray,

Amen.

0 notes

its-love-u-asshole · 7 years

Text

Shaking in My Skull [Ch. 9]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

Summary: Stuck on the plane between life and death, Saruhiko makes the decision to risk everything, forced to find faith in himself and the headstrong Yata Misaki as they both face unimaginable demons.

Note: The last update will come tomorrow! Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over <3

Ao3 Version

8tracks

The first thing Yata had done was cry, in fact sometimes he still did.

Standing there on the bridge, back to life, taking in all the forgotten sounds and smells of the world, he'd cried.

He could feel Saruhiko on his skin, his palm in his hand, but he wasn't there. The warmth, the connection, it had been severed so harshly, and all Yata could do was run from the bridge, barging into his modest apartment and collapsing again at the sight of his unfinished canvases and projects. The tears seemed never ending on the first night.

He felt awful and light all at once, because yes, it's all here, I'm back, but Saruhiko was not. Somewhere else in the city, his friends were getting the news of his passing, were dealing with the grief Yata had barely caught a glimpse of. He knew their pain now. Losing Saruhiko, caring about him so much...

But how would he be able to explain that to them? He couldn't. As far as anyone else knew, he and Saruhiko were strangers. It was like a roundhouse kick to the stomach.

As if the universe was adding salt to his wound, his phone had pinged shortly after he'd arrived home.

Kusanagi: Yata, the dinner tomorrow is cancelled. I can't talk now but, Seri's friend was in an accident. He didn't make it. I'll talk to you and the boys more when I can.

Didn't make it. Yeah, you have no idea. Somehow, hearing someone else tell him made him feel so much more helpless. He couldn't imagine how Saruhiko felt, and wished he could comfort him in any shape or form.

But it wasn't possible. They were separated now, would be for the rest of time. It wasn't fair.

Saruhiko, he'd done so much, tried so hard.

"Fuck that," Yata whispered into the silence of his apartment, hating how dull the colors of his paintings seemed now, how generic the images. They weren't what he felt at all, didn't even come close to capturing true fear, true desperation or longing.

Adoration.

Yata swallowed the bile in his throat, dragging himself to his crappy bed, and refusing to take note of how it was so much better than rocks and dirt. It didn't feel right.

He fell asleep easily, exhausted and fed up, but his sleep was restless, plagued by visions of trials and Saruhiko. He'd holed himself up for three days, staring at the ceiling and deciding what to do next.

That was the only thing he could do, move on. Move forward. It was what he'd promised himself he'd do, at the very beginning of his journey. To back down now would be an insult to everything he and Saruhiko had gone through. He wouldn't let the other down.

So, on the fourth day, he'd picked himself up out of bed, and made way into his living room, tossing out a good portion of his paintings. They didn't feel like him anymore. His fingers itched to dig into his paints, to expel his emotions into true representations of himself, but he had to wait. There were other things he had yet to do before he got lost in his work.

Yata hadn't been ready to face the guys right away, as much as he'd missed them. He needed time to adjust, to reign in his emotions. He turned down their invites to movies and dinners, and no one questioned it much, since everyone was more concerned with Kusanagi's situation. Yata didn't think he'd be able to stomach it, having everyone offering condolences, while Yata knew how hard Saruhiko had tried to come back.

Avoiding Kusanagi himself was fairly easy. He was busy pushing back wedding plans, and comforting his fiancé. Yata almost felt guilty, but in the face of everything else, it was the least of his worries. He was of no use to his friend anyways until he got himself together. Once he did that, he'd offer all the help in the world.

Slowly, he was picking himself up.

At the end of the second week, he finally did what he'd always wanted to, ever since reciting the contract in the afterlife.

He went to see his mom.

He heard a muffled 'be right there!' through the door, and the light scurry of footsteps before his mother appeared in front of him, fiery eyes catching in the warm sunlight of the day. Her calm expression quickly morphed into one of confusion, then surprise, before finally settling on immense, blinding joy. It was then that Yata broke, and it all hit him again—just when he thought he could handle this. How had he been away for so long?

He fell into her arms in the entryway of the house, barely managing to sob out an apology as she yelped in shock. She smelled like detergent and fresh spices, evoking the memories of his childhood which he'd neglected for so long. He'd missed her, he'd missed her so much.

"M-Misaki! What are yo--"

"I missed you mom, I'm...so much has...I'm sorry, I," he choked the words out, snuggling further into her, like he'd done as a kid, sure his mom could protect him from all the world's real problems. "I n-needed to come home."

She stiffened for but a moment before her muscles relaxed, her arms coming up without question to cradle him tightly.

In that moment, it had all been worth it. All the struggle and all the nightmares, all for this. All for his mother smoothing her hands over his back, and whispering sweetly until he calmed down.

Yata lost track of how many times he apologized for not visiting more, for not coming back, for not calling, and all the while she listened, silent until he was all talked out and drained from crying.

Of course she'd be upset that he was barely apologizing now, how could she not? He'd been away for so long, seldom reached out to her despite all she'd done for him. He deserved any harsh words she had to offer, and coldness or resentment. He knew it was her right, but he'd make it up to her in whatever way he could, he'd--

She chuckled, kissing his forehead as if nothing had changed, and Yata's breath caught in his throat as she said the words he'd been longing to hear, shattering the last of his guilt. "Oh Misaki, there is nothing to forgive," she whispered, voice giving away her beaming smile. "You can always come home."

And really, if only for that second, he felt invincible again, though his voice was barely a whisper. "I will Mom, I promise."

Though he couldn't do much more other than return her hug in a vice grip, somewhere in the back of his mind, Yata resolved to tell her everything someday, about Saruhiko, about all he'd endured.

But for now he kept her close, and eagerly awaited the sound of footsteps as his siblings emerged from their rooms, welcoming him home for by no means the last time.

By the end of the second month, he was picking himself up more and more. It had taken a lot for him to realize it, but of course, though Saruhiko was gone, Yata knew not all was lost.

His gallery showing was moved until a later date, the owners being sympathetic to his explanation of a loved one passing, and it gave him more time to focus on creating new works which satisfied him. There was no rush now, the owners had liked him so much in person, they'd given him the green light to contact him whenever he was ready.

It was nice, not working under a time restriction. The paintings which remained from before his time in the afterlife he'd decided to sell, and they'd gotten him enough to get by for a while, along with money from his part time job.

Yata saw his friends as much as possible, never stopped letting them know how much he appreciated them. They made fun of him now for being too sentimental, but oh well. He helped Kusanagi too, though it was hard, and after so many months, the wedding planning was back on. Meeting Saruhiko's friends...had been devastating, but he'd controlled himself throughout the dinner, allowing himself to cry when he was back home alone.

They seemed to be doing alright, but he could see the notable emptiness in their eyes, because it was the same kind he felt, deep in his soul.

Nevertheless, things moved on, and he never stopped thinking of Saruhiko, with each new endeavor. He was taking it slow, readjusting to life, and for once, it felt amazing. But the empty spot in his life would remain forever, one he couldn't fill, where someone else should've been.

Replacing Saruhiko was impossible too, that much he knew.

Despite the missing piece, Yata was happy. He was doing well, better than ever. His paintings, the ones which he worked on in his free time, hadn't suffered along with his heart. If anything, he was finally pleased with them, no matter how somber some of them turned out. Yata had learned more about himself on the journey than he ever felt possible, and now he could communicate that while doing what he loved. He also found himself painting a lot of night landscapes, abstract shapes with shadows and rich blues, all his secret tributes to Saruhiko.

Sometimes it got to be too much, painting with the other in mind. Yata missed him, wanted to kiss and hold him, and the yearning would tear him apart at times. On a particularly bad night, he'd nearly tossed all shades of blue in the garbage, his heart aching.

But no, Saruhiko was alive in his work, and it was everything to Yata, that last thread which linked them together. So he continued, creating art inspired by his family and friends, as well as the one he'd hold dear until the end of time.

Sometimes, he wondered if Saruhiko would like his pieces, if he'd be able to recognize the overwhelming love behind them. The sketches of the taller, all fine boned and charcoal, he kept hidden in a drawer, only to be seen by his eyes. Nothing beat looking at the original though.

Yes, he'd put himself back together nicely, he was happy with the direction he was going in, knew it would all work out. In a way he was thankful for the Return, without it, he didn't know if he'd appreciate everything as he did now. That being said, he'd never want to do it again, nor would he wish it on someone else. It was simply too cruel, with a near perfect guarantee of failure. He still dreamt of it, woke up drenched in sweat and breathing harshly. How he'd managed to make it out, he didn't know. But he had. He had come through, beaten the odds.

And yet, Yata would've given anything to have Saruhiko back with him.

Six months later, and this would be the last time he would be here. Yata stood on the freshly mowed grass, staring at the stone with fresh orchids laid down in front of it.

Sapphire, like his eyes.

He kicked at the dirt, willing his heart to calm down.

Initially, he'd made a habit of visiting the other's grave site, making sure none of Saruhiko's friends would be there and question him. They didn't know each other after all. What a damn joke.

Yata laughed to himself. It had seemed like a good idea at the start; Yata had hoped it would make him feel closer to the other, in some way, being there where Saruhiko was buried.

But visiting Saruhiko's grave hadn't felt right, seemed heavier and heavier with each occasion. Because he knew it meant nothing, Saruhiko couldn't see him, couldn't hear him. Nothing was below the dirt except the shell of the one who'd risked his life with Yata, who Yata had protected and come to love.

Standing there, in front of his boring tombstone, was not something Saruhiko would've wanted.

And so, Yata decided to stop. After today, he would never come back.

He would carry Saruhiko with him instead, no matter how painful the ache, and hoped that Saruhiko would think of him too as he sat in hell, alone. Maybe it would help to get him through it, until Yata could see him again. Yata would give up heaven, if it meant being with the other again at the end of his life. Regardless of if he'd suffer, he would forfeit.

Part of him knew Saruhiko wouldn't care for that either, would probably call him impulsive and unthinking, and it made Yata smile more than anything.

The tears stung, but he kept them behind his eyes. It was time to go. No more crying.

However, as all the noble thoughts crossed his mind, he couldn't help but feel something uncertain in the air around him, as if the fading landscape of the cemetery knew something he did not.

The swirling wind, no matter how eerie, was somewhat of a comfort now.

Or, perhaps it was to be a sound of mockery, the last thing he heard before...

Saruhiko took one more step, all he could manage, and then he was falling to his knees, his soles worn and muscles giving out. That was to say nothing of the broken bones he was undoubtedly sporting.

This, this was what he had been avoiding. For him to succumb to exhaustion, for him to be lesser. Sand hit his face, and as much as it stung, it kept him awake. For how long, he wasn't sure.

Dammit, he thought weakly, the energy behind any form of frustration having left him long ago.

Long ago...

As if to emphasize the observation, he dug his gnarled fingers into the sand below him, eyes peering around the vastness of the final stretch of the journey. Unless it was all a cruel joke, then he had done it, hadn't he? He nearly whimpered from the possibility that he hadn't. But..from the looks of it...

He was at the end again, the gate was...where was...

Saruhiko's eyes were painful to blink, so dried out and strained, he wondered how much longer he could keep them open. How much longer until he was blind...

The glasses he'd been given, well, they'd fallen off some time ago, in the midst of the second trial...possibly...he couldn't remember. But he remembered screeches of something, blended with the feelings of being buried alive and...and...

He shuddered, the dates and times running through his head. Nagare...

Slowly, he began to crawl forward, the voices still pestering him of the things he wouldn't be allowed to forget. He missed Misaki's arms around him so much in that moment.

It had all been too much, more than the first time, or so it seemed. Maybe it was because he was alone this time. His lungs protested from all the running, from the fumes of smoke and dirt, each breath a wheeze as he struggled to move. The initial trial had been both physical and mental, a maze of iron and mist, each dead end joined with a memory of his life, of a mistake or moment he’d taken for granted. How he’d made it out of that one, he wasn’t sure.

If he thought the whispers were bad the first time, it was nothing compared to that maze, the noises deafening and inflicted twice as painfully, because they were extracted right from his memories, taking advantage of the things he now allowed himself to feel.

The second trial, after he’d wandered aimlessly from the first, made him fucking swim. He had to swim through what appeared to be a never-ending sea, a sword by his side (a pity gift from Munakata once more), facing creatures which made the graveyard beast look tame. But honestly, it wasn’t the most grueling part, no, moving…swimming was hardest. Saruhiko had learned to perform the task some time ago, but he was never proficient at it, more like a child with his weak strokes and poor breathing. Water invaded his lungs more times than he could count during the challenge, the release of death never coming, because he was already lost in the afterlife. When he dared to breach the surface of the water for air, he was dragged back down by the beasts, his respite never fulfilling. It was like that, all the way until he reached the entrance to Nagare’s caves.

He was exhausted.

Maybe if he just sat still for a while, if he could rest for but a second...

He lurched himself forward, muffling his shout as his body protested, the dried blood making the movements stiffer.

No, don't you dare stop.

He bit his lip something fierce, willing himself forward at a snail’s pace, but moving regardless. Don't stop.

That was the trap, wasn't it? He understood it now, why so many had fallen right before reaching the end. It took its toll on the individual, with no one there to motivate them, at least...no one in their right mind. How on earth had he and Misaki managed it? Making it so far, keeping sane while doing it? Having enough energy to walk upright? His mind spun with visions of mockery and whispers which he couldn't distinguish from his imagination or reality, flashes of memories and the surges of doubt which had finally come back to deplete his strength.

Right at the end. Right where it counted most.

Keep going. Don't think about useless things.

Though it was hard not to, wasn't it? A perfectly practical reaction. If he failed here...to do it again a third time...it was unthinkable. Yet, he'd probably do it. He'd been such a fool, taking up the challenge knowing what it entailed, but he didn't find himself regretting it. Though, it was obvious everyone else had done the pitiful thinking for him this time...

Totsuka's face had been solemn, but not surprised. Saruhiko had been greeted amicably, but he didn't have any questions for the other man this time around. He knew what to do, what he needed to do. Totsuka had led him silently, with purpose, and the last thing he'd given Saruhiko was a cryptic smile and a nod of respect, bright eyes sad with something Saruhiko couldn't pinpoint. And then once again, he was gone, and his air of solidarity which Saruhiko didn't know what to do with was the only thing left of him.

Time slipped away after that. He had no way of knowing how long he'd been going, just that it might as well have been eternity.

By the time the caves had opened up to him, after ages of traveling and strife, he hadn't bothered going to see Douhan. He figured there was no point, seeing her green eyes light up in either surprise or skepticism. Perhaps part of him wanted to keep his endeavor private, the guilt of failure sitting heavy on his shoulders. But it hadn't mattered, she'd been waiting for him instead, seated upon a rock with a familiar bird.

No words were spoken, but he more or less appreciated it when she reached up into her hair and untangled her bow, which he finally noted was made of a gray and golden fleece, expensive...

She tied it around his hand, which had a nasty looking gash across it, and made sure it held. Then, a curt bow, and he was being led away, watching her disappear as he followed the soft beat of wings.

It only took him a few moments of remembering her fond stare as she tended to the wound, to realize it was her significant item. And she'd given it away, so easily.

In his head, he made a note to return it to her, sometime far in the future.

By then his mind was fragile enough, the beatings he'd taken were excruciating, and yet he took no relief in knowing the most physical trials were over. There were worse things. And well, when it had finally come to Nagare once more, the theory had proved true.

Nagare's eyes had reflected displeasure along with conflict, but this time, he hadn't been alone.

"Dang, you sure are stupid huh?" The child's pale, messy hair obscured his eyes, unhindered by the two white clips fastened to the side of it. His light green eyes reflected confusion and annoyance, his skin and posture the very essence of youthfulness as he criticized Saruhiko. "Doing this again, you're making it harder for--"

"Gojo, thank you for your help, but I don't think words will have much effect on Fushimi-san at this point," Nagare interrupted fondly, and the boy blinked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, but would you excuse us? You should calm Yukari down anyways, wherever he is."

The respect and patience Nagare gave the other was mildly astonishing, but by then, Saruhiko was too weak for such observations, who these other people were...he wasn't even upset with the boy's childish quips.

If he lost sight of what he wanted now, even for a moment, it would come crumbling down again. Nagare seemed to realize it too, and while the other boy in the room was disgruntled at not getting an answer out of Saruhiko, he did as asked, and left them, mild worry etched on his face.

The air plummeted quickly after, and Nagare wasted no time in breaching the icy divide. He knew this was Saruhiko's toughest challenge, facing change, risking it. But he had to, had to. Except this time...

Now he--

Saruhiko coughed, bloodied spit mixing into the sand as he fought off a sob at the memory. And yet, he continued to crawl as it played, because he had no choice. He wouldn't forget, no matter how badly he wanted to. It was his test.

He didn't miss the uncharacteristic pity laced in Nagare's eyes, as if he was actually fucking apologetic for what he was about to do. But it was there and gone in a second, and it was back to business.

"Fushimi, you know I can't give you the same question again, you already know the test behind it," Nagare had sighed, shoulders slumping. Saruhiko blinked, nothing more. Tired, so tired. He hadn't expected less anyhow. Of course Nagare's usual test was now futile to him, with his arrogant need to attempt the journey again. Ha, arrogant. Surely though, they had to know it was desperation more than anything else.

"I've been waiting for you, thinking about it, discussing it with my companions, trying to figure out the best way," Nagare explained uselessly, and Saruhiko picked up nothing he cared for in the words. "And--"

"Just do what you have to do." Saruhiko didn't recognize his own voice, it was dull and hoarse, and the tone of impatience was enough to make Nagare frown, face relaxing in reluctant acceptance.

Saruhiko wasn't ready for what would surely be the hardest thing he had to face, since Nagare's trial had proven to be the most difficult in the past, but there was no use putting it on hold.

He needed to do this. Everyone was waiting for him. He wouldn't disappoint again.

Nagare sighed, scanning over Saruhiko's dejected form, before he nodded.

"Very well."

Saruhiko had moved a good distance, on his hands and knees alone, but his muscles were starting to give again. It was only a matter of time before he was forced on his stomach, and yet such fast approaching matters weren't on his mind. Instead they were like a mantra, the dates.

June 13th.

October 4th.

January 2nd.

The years, he refused to acknowledge any of them, even the favorable ones. All the while Nagare's voice was mixed in.

"Your test will be fitting to you, and I'm afraid it’s not a trick. What you are about to know and see is the truth," Nagare went on, sliding up to Saruhiko until the other could see flashes of green sparking around them.

Saruhiko felt his stomach drop at the words, but he wasn't given time to ask his questions before it began. He shook his head, and it was like he'd been transported somewhere else, a nightmare really, and he knew a lot about those. The visions assaulted him full force, some bittersweet or kind, others entirely unfair. He wished he'd seen none of it, but something wouldn't let him look away. It hurt more than the fractures and cuts, more than failure.

Excusing Nagare for this would be close to impossible.

He didn't have to ask what the visions were of, he knew, the tears which had finally been expelled from his eyes showed that he knew, but Nagare decided to inform him anyways, as if things weren't clear enough.

"These are the deaths of those you hold dear, along with when they will occur and the circumstances. It is possible they might change their own outcomes in some way, but these are almost as good as final. Do forgive me," Nagare said, voice remaining level. "Your test is carrying them with you, knowing when and how they happen. You are not allowed to stop them, or to warn your loved ones in any way. Should you do so, I will make it so you are brought back immediately.

Saruhiko was hyperventilating, the sounds and voices, the emotions the scenes evoked...it was all too much.

He knew now, how Seri...the guys...

He was stuck with the knowledge forever, unable to use it, and suddenly he regretted it so much more, failing Nagare's test the first time around.

"Do I make myself clear?"

It took what was probably equivalent to hours for Saruhiko to pick himself up from that well enough for him to process the words, the implications. To back down here....was out of the question. It didn't change his desire to throw up.

The trial, more like the punishment, might as well have been the straw that broke the camel's back for him, but he had to keep going regardless.

If he wanted to see them, to make the most of the time he had left...

Saruhiko would endure it for all of time, until each date of death passed, and he saw them all again in the afterlife. After all, there was always another way right? He'd yet to succeed with it sure, but knowing there truly was no such thing as goodbye...

Saruhiko dry heaved weakly one last time, straightening his back to finally meet Nagare's stern gaze.

No such thing...

"Crystal."

The gate was there, just ahead. Or at least, a huge block shaped blur was. So close, but too far away. He pushed himself more, the dates jolting his brain along with each lurch forward, the pain from his body blending with the pain in his heart, the longing, and he felt the last of his hope begin to dwindle.

His plan was crumbling, his resolve along with it, just as he'd predicted.

No.

In a fit of anguish, he put weight back on the heels of his feet, yelling at the pressure, and kicked forward, towards the mass in the distance.

Don't fall asleep, don't stop.

His mind was a battleground as always though, and with each encouragement came an equal sized surge of doubt.

You can't do this. You'll have to try again. You can barely move, stop being unreasonable. This is useless. Why did you think you could do this?

Why had he?

Because he wanted to be with his friends, with his Misaki, at home, in his bed, staying up too late on his laptop and drinking cheap coffee. He wanted all of it, still did.

Though, perhaps it wasn't going to be enough this time either.

After everything, it was going to fall apart...

Disappointment...guilt...

He raised his fist weakly, slamming it into the sand.

But the gate was right there, almost directly in front of him, or was he imagining things?

If he could just reach...

Try harder. You have to. But how much more? What else did he have left to give? His palms scratched against the floor, finding no purchase in the flimsy sand as they struggled to pull his whole weight forward. The strength to crawl was nearly gone, the last option he'd had after his legs had caved from all the running and beatings, slipping away. He could do nothing about it, as close as he was. And again, he found himself hoping, because that's what Misaki had taught him to do. Hope.

Almost. Always almost. Almost there.

The wind shrieked around him, his vision blanking out rapidly from the force of it, until the marble gate was more and more of a blur. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was getting farther and farther away, evading him for eternity. Maybe that would be his true hell, so close to what he wanted, but never reaching it. It would be fitting, wouldn't it? No Misaki, none of the life he'd come to desire, just the loneliness of the Return, the journey he could not complete, neither the first nor the second time around.

So why was he still trying to move? Why put himself through it? How did he even know that the end of this, should he make it, would be what he expected?

Misaki's voice answered the question for him, all the way back from the beginning.

"You don't, but, wouldn't you give anything just to see?"

Ah, right.

At the time, he'd found the response, childish, stupid even, blind as he was. Now though, it pushed him forward, and gave him the solution to every question his mind dared to pose in opposition.

Why put himself through this? Simple, he had nothing more to lose, and everything to gain. For instance, his home, despite it being nothing more than a poorly decorated apartment; it didn't matter if it looked empty, because it seldom was. It was usually filled with voices, Seri and the guys, not mourning or crying, but laughing and getting too worked up over board games and movies. Then there was Seri herself, with her over the top wedding planning and support of his endeavors. He had the accomplishment he felt upon completing a difficult project at work, and really, he had his general state of existence, one he'd never thought he could miss. And lastly was Misaki, not alone, but with Saruhiko by his side, being held and kissed by the redhead and seeing the warmth in his eyes...

That's what Saruhiko had to gain, those moments and so many others. So he'd do it, this journey, again and again. Three times or twenty, until he either completely lost his mind or finally stained the marble with his blood soaked palm.

All he had to do was touch the surface...

He reached out, ignoring how distant the barrier appeared. He didn't want to trust his eyes anymore, they hardly worked anyhow, after all the strain. Saruhiko's body trembled violently from the extra movement, elbows giving out completely and leaving him lying in the dirt, hand extended pathetically. It was probably over, his muscles had ceased to listen, weighed down with exhaustion and injury, and his mind wasn't far behind. Even his hand, so determined to make contact, was gnarled from the previous trial.

But still he reached, felt his joints protest, and then reached farther. One of the last things his eyes were able to process was the shining white blur of the gate, and he wondered how close it truly was. His fingers slid against something sleek, maybe a flurry of sand which had been swirled up by the strong gusts of wind, and his hand finally dropped. It was useless, bruised and twitching in front of him. He had nothing left in him.

Saruhiko had failed. Again. Two rounds of trials, of self-doubt and fear, and for what? He'd fallen short once more. The longer he was here, the longer everyone he knew grieved and coped without him. The longer he missed their presence.

To think he'd come to have no issue admitting it, after so many years of denying it at every turn. Yet even with that driving him, it hadn't been enough.

Well, he would just have to try harder the next time, wouldn't he?

When the time came, he'd make sure. He'd be enough, for once.

His body didn't have the strength to sob, but the wind would've drowned it out anyways, howling as dirt whipped at his skin. Saruhiko's eyes were finally failing him, and the final thing he saw was a flash of darkness, and a brief slit of light, before it was all lost, his last thoughts never reaching his lips.

I'm sorry, Misaki.

I'm sorry, everyone.

Then there was silence.

"Fushimi Saruhiko. Age twenty, born on November 7th."

A voice, one he couldn't understand.

"Returned on the evening of August 14th."

And then, there was nothing.

#sarumi #adri writing #k project

3 notes · View notes

thesaintking · 7 years

Text

OneRepublic aren’t going to release albums anymore...

But they will release songs. Ryan posted this on Facebook:

Hi. So we've been quiet for a few months, haven't been promoting our most recent album and staying silent on most everything. Figured some of you might wanna know why. We've been a band now for 10 years as of January, and in that time we have gone nonstop... album, tour, album, tour etc... on Native we toured 2 1/2 years... 50+ countries and 225 dates. We went straight from that into finishing 'Oh My My', our longest (and most difficult to finish), and straight from that into promo for 'Wherever I Go' in April 2016. About 3-4 weeks into the promo for the 2nd single 'Kids' I (Ryan) hit a physical, emotional, psychological wall. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, not sleeping, on meds, not happy, anxiety on a crippling level and it was triggered from sheer exhaustion. I looked at a calendar, realized I had been gone 200 days of 2016 and still had 3 more weeks of being gone.. From my family, my wife, my kids, my friends, basically my life. I also realized that had been the last 10 years. At that moment I wanted to quit, and almost did. I called my manager and said "pull the plug"... cancel tv's cancel promo, cancel the single, cancel the album. At the time we had a tour planned for the US in February, straight into Europe and then the rest of the world. We were gonna be gone again, for ages. The thought of it literally sent me into a sweat and made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack. Crippling anxiety. It also made me stop writing songs. I didn't have the motivation or joy necessary to. That's over now. 'Oh My My' is my favorite album, it's bonkers and eclectic and we planned on releasing/promoting lots of songs we wanted to get to, but that album is also what made me collapse... in addition to travel we had an inhuman amount of stress surrounding basic things like artwork and videos. Everywhere we turned something got messed up and had to be redone, at the cost of our time and lives and families. It was never ending. So, for the first time ever and hopefully the last, I asked our label (who is amazing) to stop. Stop the album, stop the promo, don't release another song. Hit pause. And they did. So now we are here. What does that mean for our band? We've taken 4 months off, I had to dive headfirst into writing for anything but 1R.. so I've been busy with a lot of other artists, having the most fun I've had in ages, but in those sessions occasionally a 1R idea pops out. Fortunately we still love what we do and love you guys immensely, and love performing live. LOOOOVE. So we are going to. But we are changing the entire scope of how we release music and approach touring. I had the idea even before our last album of releasing "songs"... when we want, as often as we want, however we want. Not albums, songs. It's always frustrated me that by the time u get to a 3rd, 4th or 5th single off an album that song may have been produced 2-3 years ago....and sounds dated. What if 3 months into an album you write a song that feels relevant NOW?? Albums aren't built to be flexible or get out of their own way. So here's what we're gonna do. Starting tomorrow we will be dropping new music as often as humanly possible... monthly, weekly sometimes, and it will be VARIED and with collaborations and may feel bonkers at first. Some will be remixes others will be just me on piano or guitar. Some will sound super trendy and new, some will sound classic and old school or very "OneRepublic". News flash: I am ADD AF and always have been. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to stick to one lane or one style or sound, I am incapable of it and so are the rest of the guys. That's part of my anxiety, "what this album supposed to sound like?!!" No more. We like too many styles of music to "sound like OneRepublic" 24/7. Newsflash 2: l have honestly never known what our sound is, not once. I leave that up to your interpretation of it. All I'm ever chasing is goosebumps or emotion or fun. Love, God, Hope. What else is there? In whatever shade or color that is-- Currently I'm chasing it. I'm a songs guy, the sound is always evolving. So.... some of these songs you're absolutely gonna love... some you might totally hate, some will be a breath of fresh air and some you'll skip. And guess what? It doesn't matter. that's the point. All the songs will be me singing and us playing. So it's Us. We won't be chasing trends but we will react to what's around us, we won't be trying to re-write songs from our past but some will unavoidably sound nostalgic. SONGS. So whats 'No Vacancy' and where did it come from? I had a series of sessions with my friends Tor and Mikkel (Stargate) in early January. The 2nd song we wrote was No Vacancy. The session didn't start as a song for OneRepublic, we were trying to write a Gotye style song for Selena actually, but when I sang the chorus it just felt right. The lyric idea started with me thinking about my kids and then I realized it was kinda just relatable to anyone. It had a Police vibe I loved... Tor sped it up and added the plucky guitar chords. A month later we ended up doing a concert in the Caribbean and that's where I finished the lyrics and vocals and instrumental bits. As I said I react to what's around me, thus the island vibe and palm trees etc....(and yes I realize I'm pronouncing "Vacancy" an odd way but how the hell else can it rhyme with "so damn empty!!??"). It's not a first single, it's a song for April. It's fun, it's summer, it's a song some will love and some wont- I honestly don't care. WE like it :). My goal for now is I want people to bliss out. We are in some dark times, we wanna make some lifted music that helps people feel happy. Feel connected, feel human, and love each other as much as possible. BLISS. OUT. 'No Vacancy' likely won't sound like the next song we drop... or it may. We have more new music scheduled 2 weeks from tomorrow, so here's the deal: To all our fans: we hope you enjoy our new approach to releasing music, you will be hearing it as we make it. There are no "first singles", there are no "album cycles", there's us getting inspired, writing a tune, and getting it to you fast as we can. Because of Streaming services we can finally do what I've wanted to do for years. Some songs you will love, some you may loathe, but guess what?? Wait another couple weeks and you'll have something new that may just be your favorite thing ever. We will tour when it makes sense, put out artwork when it's good, and we are making merch WE wanna wear... for you. We will go to radio with songs when it feels like we should, not before. And we will tour... but not so much we end up hating life. Love you, hope you enjoy No Vacancy, it's simply one shade of a sound that we like this month, and tomorrow, I'm gonna write something totally different. XO Ryan T.

I get that Ryan and co are tired of the overexposure but maybe their reaction was a little too drastic? I sincerely hope this trend doesn’t catch on. Doing away with the album format and just releasing songs to stream might be a great way to make money, but it is a little disappointing for fans not to have a body of work to listen to. I suppose we can make little compilations of songs released within a particular time frame, design the artwork for it using press shots and call it an album. Hopefully they’ll reconsider their decision in the future or at least give us EPs every quarter instead of singles every now and then.

In the mean time, you can buy their song ‘No Vacancy’ here on iTunes.

#OneRepublic #No Vacancy #iTunes #artwork #Facebook #Ryan Tedder #no album #single #2017

1 note · View note

suchawonderfullife · 7 years

Text

1. The silver lining..

For those who know me personally, you may be wondering why I’ve called this blog “such a wonderful life”? Well, “Wonderful Life” by Hurts is a song of significance to me. The lyrics start with:

“On a bridge across the Severn on a Saturday night, Susie meets the man of her dreams. He says that he got in trouble and if she doesn’t mind He doesn’t want the company But there’s something in the air They share a look in silence and everything is understood Susie grabs her man and puts a grip on his hand as the rain puts a tear in his eye. She says Don’t let go Never give up, it’s such a wonderful life Don’t let go Never give up, it’s such a wonderful life”

It’s about a man about to commit suicide, when he is stopped by a woman, she grabs his hand and assures him it will all be okay. The lyrics continue with her seeing his pain, they fall in love and he starts to believe her words. She saves him.

I used to listen to this song through my sickest and darkest days. This song still evokes strong emotion when I listen to it, I think because of the memory of how sick I was when I needed to hear these words the most. I remember countless nights in my early 20′s, feeling such immense loneliness and emotional suffering. It would be 2am or some ridiculous time, my insomnia in fine form and I’d just spent another day (like hundreds before that) home alone, too sick to watch tv, talk to anybody or do anything relatively normal. My level of pain and suffering was incomprehensible and honestly, I’m astonished I survived it. I used to meditate lying down, for hours on end just to try and alleviate some of my symptoms, then I’d lie on the couch listening to classical music as that’s all my body could cope with. If I wasn’t on the couch listening to music, I was in bed in complete silence and darkness, just breathing, hoping to fall asleep (but unable to) and waiting for another day to pass. So at 2-3-4am, when the magnitude of my isolation was felt the most, tears streaming down my face and all I could think about was falling asleep and hoping to never wake up, this song spoke to the deepest part of my soul. The part of me that knew life was worth fighting for and that I needed to try and hold on a little longer. You can listen to the song here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TB1x67Do5U

I have to tell you how glad I am that I did hold on. I survived years of suffering that I would not wish on my worst enemy. When you have no hope outside of that fire that burns within you, when doctors tell you you’re too sick to be treated and they don’t know how to help you, that you may never get better, the majority of your friends abandon you from lack of understanding and judgement and there is nothing in your day that brings you joy, distraction or relief. When you’re isolated beyond comprehension and left feeling like a worthless burden to those selfless enough to stick around and love and care for you regardless. I’m glad my multiple suicide attempts through those times were never successful. I’m glad the universe has kept me here. Now I have hope and the possibility of returning to a life where feeling joy, having the ability to participate in society and achieving my goals, will outweigh my level of suffering. I may even feel somewhat “normal”- now that’s a dream i’ve had for almost a decade.

In just over a month’s time, I will be travelling to the Hansa Center in Wichita Kansas for life-saving treatment for Late Stage Nuerological Lyme Disease and many other conditions this illness has graced me with. This trip has been a year in the making. Over 8 years of trialling endless treatments, a multitude of tests, dozens of doctors, anecdotal evidence from friends and fellow sufferers on their own journey and lastly a years research solely on this clinic and why this is my best shot at helping my body fight such a devastating disease. A disease that has robbed 12 years of my life, taken away my dreams and life plans, has control of all my organs (including my brain), nervous system and tissues, causes dozens (even hundreds) of debilitating symptoms and has actually made me grateful to be the person I am today.

I don’t want this blog to simply be about me harping on about how sick I am/was, treatments and other sad or challenging things. To me it’s about finding hope and positivity in whatever your circumstances and learning to be grateful for the lessons through things you cannot change or do not have control over. I want this blog to change the way you see the world, to inspire you to never give up, to fight for what you want and to face whatever it is that’s holding you back.

There is always something positive to come from any experience. A silver lining if you will. So here is mine: In my 2 years of “remission” (ages 18-20), though I didn’t know it was remission at the time, I was a very different person to who I am now. I was still kind-hearted, thoughtful, loving and a decent human being (in my opinion). But I was superficial and possibly too driven. I prided myself on how hard I could work and how much I could achieve. Rest or down-time was not something I cared for. I studied full-time and worked 2-3 jobs. Working less than 20 hours a week was not acceptable to me. I would head out with friends on weekends for big nights out, I was extroverted (still am) and very likeable. I found it easy to get along with anybody and make new friends. My looks were very important, as a personal trainer, exercise was my life and I loved being known as a “gym junkie.”

I valued myself on how I looked, men finding me attractive, my achievements and status of profession and how likeable I was to others. Basically, I sought value within myself through superficial and tangible parts of my life (as most of us do). So when I became ill, I lost everything that gave me a sense of purpose and made me who I was. A year into being diagnosed as chronically ill (age 21) and I became severely depressed, even suicidal, partly due to my ongoing isolation and grieving the loss of everything I once had. It took me a long time to learn how to re-build my self-worth from nothing. But I did it.

I slowly learnt the value of being grounded, the importance of genuine connection and meaningful relationships over going out and being liked by whomever I may meet. Now I’d rather have quality time with one good friend, than head out with 10 friends where the conversation is potentially shallow. I’ve learnt how to value myself despite my looks (I haven’t been able to exercise in 8 years and putting makeup on is only possible on really “well” days), despite being unable to work or whatever profession I may have in the future and despite being unable to contribute or participate in society like people expect. Those are the things society TELLS us are important, but if you take them all away, you’re left with nothing. Imagine losing all that shapes you as “you,” becoming a lifeless shell of your former self, how would you get through that and rebuild who you are?

So what’s important to me now above all else, is my integrity, morals and how I treat others. I’m a good person, I know this and that’s what matters. I also learnt how to say no. How to set boundaries and make sure that I take care of myself first and foremost and others second. I used to bend over backwards for people, but when I put people’s well-being before my own, it was usually for them to like me, to keep the peace, or out of fear they would abandon me if I didn’t help. So my intentions (although from a good place) were actually not genuine. I’ve learnt how to be true to myself and only say yes to things that serve me or things I am capable of doing whilst maintaining my own physical and emotional health. “You can’t pour from an empty cup,” remember that. I also learnt through counselling that you do yourself a disservice every time you step outside yourself and your core values, to simply please someone else. You become inauthentic and are essentially hurting yourself.

I’m still extroverted, but I’ve learnt how to be alone and embrace simply doing nothing. At 18 I couldn’t even sit through a yoga class, I thought it was “stupid” to waste time breathing deeply and relaxing. I used to get anxiety if it was a Saturday night and I wasn’t out doing something. I hated being on my own with nothing to do. However now, I actually enjoy time alone, doing nice things for myself like having a bath, cooking a healthy meal, going for a walk, sitting in a cafe drinking a coffee just watching people, spending a whole day on the couch binge-watching whatever show I am obsessed with at the time and more. It’s OK to do nothing and this took years for me to accept. But don’t get this confused with severe isolation when you are bedridden. That is when I wanted to die and being that sick, for that long with very limited social contact is beyond challenging and heart-breaking. I am very fortunate to not be THAT sick right now and to have the (although limited) freedom of making some choices on my better days.

Moreover, I learnt that my circumstances and life need no explanation. I don’t owe anybody anything. I used to justify and explain myself out of fear of judgement. The looks I get when I park in a disabled spot, or get pushed around the shops in a wheelchair, yet would hop out of it to look at something. Feeling unwell at an event and needing to go lie down or leave and not knowing how to tell someone, cancelling plans or suddenly becoming too unwell to speak, move or tolerate a normal sound or smell. It’s exhausting to feel the need to constantly justify your circumstances to people. So I don’t and I don’t care if people don’t “get it.” They’re not people I need in my life.

I’m also more than happy to put people in their place who feel the need to comment on my circumstances to which they know nothing about. Such as the social injustice warriors fighting for the rights of the disabled and their parking spots. I acknowledge their comment by telling them to go look at the VALID sticker on the dashboard that is registered to me. Ignorance is bliss and good for them, but I certainly won’t be a sitting duck to morons who think their opinion actually matters. I know people sick like myself who would benefit greatly from a disabled sticker, yet are too scared to get one because they may get nasty comments from onlookers as they are not in a wheelchair, of prehistoric age or missing a limb. This may mean the difference between them able to go to the shops or leave their house, something many take for granted. A friend once said (towards people like that) “It must be nice to have such a privileged opinion on disability when you are in full health.”

My point is, my view of the world and what I thought was important was guided by what society was telling me. Working hard, always being busy, looking good, putting others first and caring what people think. Being so sick from Lyme Disease gave me the time and necessity to build myself back up from nothing and to be able to think for myself. I don’t buy into superficial connections, fakeness, striving for things that will help my social status, people liking me, or doing something because “it’s what you do” or “society says,” because life is too short. What an absolute waste of time and energy that is.

I’m am empath and I’ve been fortunate enough to find the ability to listen to what my soul really needs in order to be authentic. I have honestly found my true self through all my heartache and I may not ever have had the chance to do that, if I didn’t get sick. You’ll see that I am unapologetically honest about who I am, my life, my desires, interests and dreams. I own who I am and what I want because I am at my happiest when I am true to myself. I don’t believe in filtering my life to ease others discomfort. If you’re uncomfortable, that’s not my problem and I gravitate only towards those who “get me” and embrace all that I am. I can’t tell you how elating that feels. I’ve lost friends because of who I am and choices I’ve made, as they were judgemental and couldn’t see past their own social conditioning and bubble of reality. Don’t get me wrong, that hurts, but they don’t deserve me in their life if that’s their mindset towards someone simply being who they are. This is an outlook people in their 40′s or 50′s start to tap into, when they get tired of living their life how they think they’re supposed to and they just want to be happy. I found this in my 20′s and what a beautiful gift that is.

If you meet me or have met me, I hope you feel that my energy is genuine, that I have depth, an ability to listen with intent to understand and not simply reply and that I honestly care for people. I have an outlook of positivity, I’m a solutions person and I always find a silver lining.

How did I get there though? Through my chronic illness journey I have studied Buddhism, found the benefits of Reiki, healing crystals, meditation, detoxing, mindfulness techniques, sought counselling for deep-seeded emotional traumas, read many self help books and more. I got to a point where my physical suffering was so severe and I had nothing to alleviate it, that I decided I needn't suffer more with emotional or mental pain. If I could at least control my mind and learn how to be happy or at peace through my suffering, then maybe I would either get through it, or at least die with some peace. Your mind and the way you view things has such immense power. This kind of growth didn’t only help me “find myself”, but I learnt that it is paramount to long-term recovery. My recovery didn’t start until AFTER I tapped into all these things.

So I need to express to sufferers out there, that you will NEVER get better if you do not deal with your “shit”, work on yourself and learn how to find peace through your suffering. We all carry trauma and if you’re sick, then it is a part of your chronic illness story. Don’t try to simply fix the physical. I’ve heard this from multiple practitioners and health experts as well, so it’s not just my anecdotal evidence or personal belief. The Hansa Center focus on emotional healing and (from my understanding) adhere to this same belief.

Thanks for reading. Next I will discuss the journey that led me to choosing Hansa and why I did. Make sure you hit “follow” for future updates.

Love xx

#lyme #lyme disease #chronic lyme #chronic illness #spoonie #hansa center #hansa #lyme treatment

4 notes · View notes