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annieqattheperipheral · 7 months

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I WANNA HEAR FROM THIS DUDE. Give him an entire hour of anonymity, let's hear it all

⬇️ ⬇️ ⬇️

TW: skate blade injury, medical, emergency, blood, bruise

Ok this is an EXCELLENT article about neck guards and cut-resistant turtleneck undershirts.

please read to the end. Dr Hayley Wickenheiser provides incredible insight about freak accidents and the medical emergency process that shifts the article a couple of times.

$wall: After Adam Johnson's death, will 'stubborn' NHL players embrace neck-protective gear?

A little more than a year ago, T.J. Oshie read a story about a young boy who was cut in the neck by a skate blade during a youth hockey game. Almost instinctively, Oshie reached for his phone and contacted his partners at Warroad, the hockey apparel company he helped found six years ago. What started as a way to create undershirts that weren’t itchy and irritating had developed into a safety-conscious business that helped develop new, cut-resistant fabrics to protect players’ wrists and Achilles tendons.

Now, Oshie wanted turtlenecks to protect the most dangerously exposed part of a hockey player’s body — their neck, and the carotid artery within. Sure enough, Warroad came up with a sleek turtleneck with its “tilo” design, which includes cut-resistant panels built into the fabric.

It worked.

And Oshie still didn’t wear them.

In fact, he doesn’t believe a single player in the NHL wears anything of the sort. None of the bulky neck guards that are mandatory in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League and Ontario Hockey League (but not the Western Hockey League). None of the Kevlar-style fabric turtlenecks that are becoming more readily available all the time, from companies such as Warroad, AYCANE, and Cut-Tex Pro.

Players have their reasons. Oshie said NHL rinks are “hotter” than ever, with guys sweating through several undershirts a game, and the thought of wearing a turtleneck in such a warm environment is unappealing. Players are superstitious, wearing the same shoulder pads they used in juniors, using the same brand of skate they’ve worn since they were kids, using the same tape job and knob style they’ve used forever. And, well, turtlenecks and neck guards don’t look cool. Heck, only Wayne Gretzky and Tomas Plekanec ever really pulled off the look.

“It’s not a cool look having neck guards on,” Oshie said. “For whatever reason, it’s just not something that’s sleek and looks great.”

But then Oshie learned about Adam Johnson’s death on Saturday night. Johnson, a former player for the Pittsburgh Penguins, was cut in the neck by a skate blade during a game in England and died, shaking the hockey community to its core. Players and coaches from around the league expressed their heartbreak over the tragedy. But Oshie did more than that.

He ordered five Tilo turtlenecks from his company. One for him and four for some of his teammates to try. They’ll arrive on Monday. And he’s going to try playing in them. Because Johnson’s death did more than devastate the hockey world. It opened the hockey world’s eyes to an inherent — and possibly preventable — life-threatening risk that comes with playing the game.

At any level.

“I just wish these things never had to be made, and injuries like this would never happen, because it’s so sad,” Oshie said on his way to the Capitals’ game against the Sharks on Sunday evening. “It hits me pretty hard, just thinking about my kids. I could take one to the neck tonight. And for them to not have a father — it’s just so sad and it makes me think twice about protecting myself and my neck out there. Whether it looks cool or not.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jason Dickinson didn’t know what had happened to Boston’s Jakub Lauko last Tuesday at the United Center, he only knew that it looked gruesome. One of Dickinson’s Chicago teammates asked him what had happened and Dickinson speculated that Lauko had hit his head on the boards and “split open.”

After the game, Lauko’s bloodied face was still a topic of conversation in the Blackhawks dressing room. Dickinson heard someone say that it was a skate blade that caught Lauko in the area of his left eye.

“A skate?” Dickinson said. “How did that happen?”

“It was your skate!” a teammate told him.

“Are you kidding me?” Dickinson responded. “When?”

It had happened when Dickinson was falling into the boards after a push from Boston’s John Beecher. Lauko was already down on all fours, and Dickinson’s skate caught him in the face. As mangled as his face was in the aftermath, Lauko was extraordinarily lucky the skate missed his eye. Dickinson never even felt the contact.

Dickinson, after learning it was his skate, immediately checked in with the team’s medical staff to find out if Lauko was OK, and was indescribably relieved to find out he was. Dickinson’s heart went out to Johnson’s family on Sunday, but he also spared a thought for the player whose skate caught Johnson in the neck.

“I feel for (him) as well,” Dickinson said. “He’s on the other end of that and he’s going to have some stuff to work through, because that’s heavy stuff. I guarantee he feels guilty right now, even though it’s a freak accident.”

That’s a word you hear a lot when it comes to skate-cut injuries, whether it’s Pat Maroon’s skate slicing through Evander Kane’s wrist last season or Matt Cooke’s skate tearing Erik Karlsson’s Achilles tendon 10 years ago. A “freak” accident. A “freak” play.

But is it? After all, this is a game played by people moving at exceptional speeds with exceptional force wearing exceptionally dangerous weapons on their feet. If anything, it’s shocking that skate cuts don’t happen more often.

Hayley Wickenheiser, a Team Canada legend, assistant general manager for the Toronto Maple Leafs and emergency physician, bristled at the depiction of such incidents as “freak” occurrences.

“I don’t think this is a freak thing, I think it happens quite a lot,” she said. “It’s just the injuries are superficial, or the players are lucky. This isn’t something that doesn’t happen; it happens a lot in hockey. Sticks come up, skates come up, and the neck is very susceptible. So whatever we can do to make (neck protection) more mainstream and just part of the equipment, the better for the future of the game. It just makes sense to me.”

Indeed, while terrifying incidents like the cuts suffered by Johnson and former Sabres goaltender Clint Malarchuk are thankfully very rare, it seems like every player has a story to tell of a close call, a near miss, a Lauko-style bit of “luck.” Dickinson took a skate on the collarbone during a game against Vegas last season and “immediately panicked,” wondering if a major artery was nicked.

“I remember the ref looked at me right away and said, ‘That was real close, Dickie,’” Dickinson said. “I’m like,’ Yeah, you’re telling me. I can f—ing feel it.”

Oshie was volunteering at a camp at his alma mater, North Dakota, some years ago, when he was rough-housing with the kids. They were dog-piling him on the ice, falling all over each other, laughing hysterically.

“Then one kid came in full speed and slid into the pile feet-first, and he actually hit me square in the face with his skate blade,” Oshie said. “So I had to get stitches above and below my eye. I still have a scar in my eyebrow that goes into my forehead. Luckily, it was flush with my face so it didn’t cut my eye.”

They can’t all be “freak” incidents, right?

“It’s unfortunate,” Blackhawks coach and 21-year NHL veteran Luke Richardson said. “It’s one of the fastest games on Earth, with razor blades on the bottom of your feet. It’s very scary and things happen quick. … I don’t know if there’s any way to guarantee that there’s going to be protection. Even if you do wear something. You can’t be in a tin can top to bottom out there for protection. It’s the risk that the pro players take.”

Richardson cited Oshie’s company as a valuable resource for players, and suggested that with time, neck protection will become normalized in the NHL. When he entered the league in 1987, there were still players playing without helmets. It took years after that for visors to become the norm to protect players’ eyes. Richardson hoped that with neck protection becoming more and more common — and mandatory — in lower leagues, it’s only a matter of time before it “graduates up” to the NHL.

Arizona center Nick Bjugstad, who played with Johnson in Pittsburgh and called him “just a kind human,” said he couldn’t bring himself to watch the video, so he doesn’t know exactly how the cut happened. But he thinks the answer is pretty obvious.

“There are times that your feet go out from under you and you don’t have control,” Bjugstad said. “As far as the precaution going forward, I’m sure it’ll be discussed in the league. It’s even more important on the youth side of things, with the lack of athletic trainers and whatnot. I hope we can figure something out as a hockey community that protects us from something so tragic happening.”

Scott Sandelin, who coached Johnson at Minnesota-Duluth, said making neck protection and Kevlar-style undergear mandatory has come up in conversations around the NCAA championship committee, with longtime Mercyhurst coach Rick Gotkin leading the charge.

“He was like, ‘Why do we wait?’” Sandelin recalled. “Why do we wait for something like this to happen before you mandate something?”

Dickinson said the NHL provided a video at the beginning of the season highlighting the benefits of cut-resistant sleeves to protect the wrists and Achilles tendons, and those have become quite popular around the league. But neck protection remains ignored by everyone other than goaltenders.

Johnson’s death surely opened some eyes around the hockey world to the risk of skate cuts to the neck, and it appeared that several Providence Bruins, in the AHL, wore neck guards on Sunday. That’s a start.

But why does it have to be a years-long process? Why can’t it happen sooner? Why do players have to be grandfathered in to avoid any mandates whenever a new equipment mandate is instituted?

“Because they’re stubborn,” said one NHL equipment manager, who was granted anonymity so he could speak freely. “It’s a monkey-see, monkey-do league. All it would take is one guy to wear it. Then two days to get used to it.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wickenheiser has a similarly simple solution to getting players past all their superstitions and habits, to get them to embrace what seems like such an obvious solution to a terrifying problem.

“You just put one on,” she said. “I wore one for 20 years with the national team, it didn’t interfere with anything I did. … It’s just like anything else, when one player does it, everyone sees it and it becomes normal. I can’t even remember hockey without visors now, and I grew up watching the world of hockey without visors. I can’t even imagine not playing with a visor with how fast the game is.”

As an emergency physician and all-time hockey great, Wickenheiser is perhaps uniquely qualified to weigh in on the subject. She knows how well-stocked NHL arenas are in terms of medical care. She also knows it’s not nearly enough if, God forbid, a situation similar to what happened to Johnson happens in an NHL game. The thought has frequently crossed her mind that if there were an incident at a practice, she might be the most qualified person in the rink that day. She runs the scenarios in her mind constantly, and “it truly horrifies me.”

“You know how little time and resources you have to save a life in that moment,” she said. “The deck is entirely stacked against you as a physician. In the NHL buildings, there would be qualified physicians, there’s (emergency medical services) in the building. You have every resource at your fingertips. But what you don’t have is time. You need a surgeon and you need blood and you need time, and there’s none of those things in that moment. It’s just such a devastating injury. It freaks me out, for sure.”

It’s something players rarely think about. Can’t think about, really. Richardson said it was similar to a football player coming back from a knee injury — if you’re constantly wondering if the surgically repaired knee will hold up, you’ll never be playing at full strength and full speed. Hockey players have to feel invincible out there in order to take the risks they take on seemingly every shift.

But Oshie said there’s an instinctive, almost unthinking awareness of what your skates are doing at all times. Because the danger is always in the back of your mind, if not the front.

“I think you’re always very conscious of where your skates are when you’re playing,” he said. “I know I am. If someone’s on the ground in front of you, even if you get pushed from behind, you always get your feet out of the way, if that makes sense. It might look terrible if someone is about to fall on someone and goes knees-first, but that’s what you do instead of trying to land on your feet. I just assume that everyone else has that same mentality. But those very freak things happen. You get pushed from behind and you stay on one foot and the other foot comes up. I took a skate blade to my visor in our last preseason game, just this year. So I was a couple inches away from being cut somewhere.”

The game only gets more dangerous with each passing year. Players get bigger, stronger, faster. Skate blades are removable now, and they stay razor-sharp throughout the game, rather than dulling with each shift. Ignoring the risks won’t make them go away.

The introduction of the slap shot led to the goalie mask. Whippier sticks and more dangerous shooters made visors inevitable. Ten or 20 years from now, it’s easy to envision players regularly wearing full face shields. The Karlsson and Kane incidents, among others, helped spur the creation and popularization of wrist and ankle sleeves.

Neck protection will undoubtedly follow. It’s just a matter of when.

And if Johnson’s tragic and shocking death doesn’t prove to be enough to open eyes and open minds, then what will?

“There are options out there, and it’s not a bad idea at all,” Dickinson said. “It’s about awareness. And events like (Saturday) night, events like Kane’s, like Karlsson’s — those really make guys think and get them worried. It’s definitely something I’d consider now. I mean, who cares what it looks like? Looking lame and living is a lot better than the opposite.”

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theinacayshow · 1 year

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My favorite karaoke songs to get the people going:

1. “Gives you hell” by All American Rejects

2. “Wow, I can get sexual too” by Say Anything

3. “Sugar” by Maroon 5

4. “Cable car” by The Fray

Bonus song: “My blood” by twenty - one pilots

I only sing it with my brother :)

What are your fave karaoke songs?

#karaoke #music #song suggestions #chicago #all american rejects #twenty one pilots #maroon 5 #say anything #the fray #Spotify

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crunchycrystals · 1 year

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i love it when i listen to an artist and they reference an earlier piece of work it makes me so happy

#right now its about that part in save rock and roll where they use the sound from chicago is so two years ago hJSFKHAJFJHF #also ms swift. im feral over maroon and that one line in daylight. you know which one #music #crunchyposts #vibes #stories #these tags make sense to me #also what a catch donnie????? when its dance dance and thanks for the memories and then GROWING UP #do you want me to cry

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poetess-trobadour · 16 days

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"It's a mean world that I've known

Never got no good doin' what I'm told"

My (unpopular) take on zodiac vibes, part 6♍️✨️

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uchicagomagazine · 3 months

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Special Collections staff members pose for a group portrait in 1990. From left standing: Dan Galligan; Kim Coventry; Roger Bertschausen, MDiv’90; Stephen Duffy, AM’76; Richard L. Popp, AM’81; and Kevin Schilbrack, AM’89, PhD’95. From left seated: Dan Meyer, AM’75, PhD’94; Samantha Reynolds, EX’92; Catherine MacCormack, AB’92; Debra Henning, AM’96; Valarie Brocato; and George Reisch, SM’90, PhD’95.

UChicago Photographic Archive, apf1-05514, Hanna Holborn Gray Special Collections Research Center, University of Chicago Library

#uchicago #university of chicago #alumni #archives #maroons #university of chicago magazine

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qadirvyrotek · 6 months

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daughteroftheunspeakable · 4 months

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some reporter from the chicago maroon has fallen in love with wilbur soot im in tears

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thelasttime · 1 year

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surprise songs - eras tour

3/17 - glendale, arizona : “mirrorball” and “tim mcgraw”

3/18 - glendale, arizona: “this is me trying” and “state of grace”

3/24 - las vegas, nevada: “our song” and “snow on the beach”

3/25 - las vegas, nevada: “cowboy like me” and “white horse”

3/31 - arlington, texas: “sad beautiful tragic” and “ours”

4/1 - arlington, texas: “death by a thousand cuts” and “clean”

4/2 - arlington, texas: “jump then fall” and “the lucky one”

4/13 - tampa, florida: “speak now” and “treacherous”

4/14 - tampa, florida: “the great war” and “you’re on your own kid”

4/15 - tampa, florida: “mad woman” and “mean”

4/21 - houston, texas: “wonderland” and “you’re not sorry”

4/22 - houston, texas: “a place in this world” and “today was a fairytale”

4/23 - houston, texas: “begin again” and “cold as you”

4/28 - atlanta, georgia: “the other side of the door” and “coney island”

4/29 - atlanta, georgia: “high infidelity” and “gorgeous”

4/30 - atlanta, georgia: “i bet you think about me” and “how you get the girl”

5/5 - nashville, tennessee: “sparks fly” and “teardrops on my guitar”

5/6 - nashville, tennessee: “out of the woods” and “fifteen”

5/7 - nashville, tennessee: “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” and “mine”

5/12 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “gold rush” and “come back…be here”

5/13 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “forever & always” and “this love”

5/14 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “hey stephen” and “the best day”

5/19 - foxborough, massachusetts: “should’ve said no” and “better man”

5/20 - foxborough, massachusetts: “…question?” and “invisible”

5/21 - foxborough, massachusetts: “i think he knows” and “red”

5/26 - east rutherford, new jersey: "getaway car" and "maroon"

5/27 - east rutherford, new jersey: “holy ground” and “false god”

5/28 - east rutherford, new jersey: "welcome to new york" and "clean"

6/2 - chicago, illinois: "i wish you would" and "the lakes"

6/3 - chicago, illinois: "you all over me" and "i don't wanna live forever"

6/4 - chicago, illinois: “hits different” and “the moment i knew”

6/9 - detroit, michigan: "haunted" and "i almost do"

6/10 - detroit, michigan: "all you had to do was stay" and "breathe"

6/16 - pittsburgh, pennsylvania: "mr. perfectly fine" and "the last time"

6/17 - pittsburgh, pennsylvania: "seven" and "the story of us"

6/23 - minneapolis, minnesota: “paper rings” and “if this was a movie”

6/24 - minneapolis, minnesota: “dear john” and “daylight”

6/30 - cincinnati, ohio: "i'm only me when i'm with you" and "evermore"

7/1 - cincinnati, ohio: “ivy,” “i miss you, i’m sorry,” and “call it what you want”

7/7 - kansas city, missouri: “never grow up” and “when emma falls in love”

7/8 - kansas city, missouri: “last kiss” and “dorothea”

7/14 - denver, colorado: “picture to burn” and “timeless”

7/15 - denver, colorado: “starlight” and “back to december”

7/22 - seattle, washington: “this is why we can’t have nice things” and “everything has changed”

7/23 - seattle, washington: "tied together with a smile" and "message in a bottle"

7/28 - santa clara, california: “right where you left me” and “castles crumbling”

7/29 - santa clara, california: “stay stay stay” and “all of the girls you loved before”

8/3 - los angeles, california: "i can see you" and "maroon"

8/4 - los angeles, california: "our song" and "you are in love"

8/5 - los angeles, california: “death by a thousand cuts” and “you’re on your own kid”

8/6 - los angeles, california: "i know places" and "king of my heart"

8/7 - los angeles, california: "new romantics" and "new year's day"

8/24 - mexico city, mexico: "i forgot that you existed" and "sweet nothing"

8/25 - mexico city, mexico: "tell me why" and "snow on the beach"

#.txt #ok it's more aesthetic like this #eras tour surprise songs #surprise songs slaylist

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fob4ever · 6 months

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i was at a bookstore yesterday that had a copy of the kerrang: living loud book that featured the FOB watergun fight article i've never seen transcribed anywhere so i made a transcript of it for archival purposes. enjoy! from kerrang, may 2005.

For a man staring down the barrel of a loaded gun while wearing just underpants, Fall Out Boy bassist Peter Wentz looks remarkably chipper. Especially when you consider the person about to unload in his face is guitarist and vocalist Patrick Stump, grinning madly despite the fact that fellow six-stringer Joe Trohman has a pistol to his temple. He in turn is firmly in the firing line of drummer Andy Hurley, cackling loudly with his finger hovering over the trigger.

Passers-by stop and stare, waiting for the inevitable, messy climax of this "Reservoir Dogs" scenario. The tension mounts, onlookers brace themselves, the band get ready to open fire. Suddenly it happens.

"Argh!" screams Wentz as several litres of icy water soak him. "That's fucking cold!"

No, Fall Out Boy aren't about to blow each other away, They're having a water fight for K!'s benefit in a car park at the Chicago stop on travelling punk circus Warped Tour, where they're knocking out their "softcore" wares ("We're basically a hardcore band that couldn't cut it as a hardcore band," laughs Wentz) on the main stage alongside big hitters like The Offspring, Avenged Sevenfold and My Chemical Romance. The Windy City is more than just another stop for them; Chicago is Fall Out Boy's hometown, the place where they formed out of the ashes of their old hardcore bands, and where they still live with their parents- who are here for today's show - during the few weeks of the year they're not on tour.

It all started for Fall Out Boy here in 2001 when the members wanted a break from playing in their various bands. Long time friends Wentz and Hurley got together with hardcore associate Joe Trohman to do something a bit less heavy. Following a conversation about avant-metallers Neurosis in a bookstore, Trohman introduced Stump to the rest of the band. When their other bands folded, they took on Fall Out Boy full time.

"We wanted to do things before we were ready," chuckles Peter Wentz fondly of the early days of DIY tours for the benefit of the one or two people who would show up. "We'd plan two-week tours, just to see the world. Nobody would book us, so we had to do it all on our own."

"A lot of bands have scenes to go into and surround themselves with those people," says Stump. "We had no scene, so we would just play anywhere, with whoever."

FOB have come a long way from their humble roots. Right now they're America's fastest rising band. Radio smash 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down' has placed them squarely in the mainstream, having spent three weeks as the Number One song on MTV's 'TRL', a prime-time show usually devoted to pop acts like Maroon 5 and Ashlee Simpson. So dizzying their Stateside assent has been, they had to cancel their recent European tour in order to play the MTV Music Video Awards, where they are also nominated for 'Sugar...'. Thankfully, FOB haven't let the screaming adoration turn them into big-headed twats.

"A piece of shit with legs on it could walk onto 'TRL' and people would still go crazy," laughs Wentz. "That stuff just goes straight by me. With the fast turnover in the music industry, how can anyone have an ego"

Andy Hurley chips in. "You can be today's main stage and tomorrow's trash."

That's to find out tomorrow, though. Today among the madness of trying to plan anything on the Warped Tour - stage times are decided daily by lottery - Fall Out Boy have to try and find time for hanging out with family and friends.

"Three weeks on Warped is like three months on a normal tour," says Peter Wentz.

"Home becomes like Atlantis on tour, you wonder if it actually exists after a while," adds Patrick Stump.

Now FOB are big stars, a lot of old 'friends' have been coming out of the woodwork. Joe Trohman and Peter Wentz have polarised views on those who didn't give a toss back in the day suddenly becoming your pal once you've made it.

"The way I look at it is if someone's a dick to you and you don't know them, so what?" says Trohman. "Just care about who did support you, keep those important people close, not the people who five years ago called you a loser."

"I work the opposite way!" Wentz counters, before adding darkly, "The people I think about most are enemies. My brain works on revenge!"

Though a tight knit group of close friends, Peter Wentz is clearly Fall Out Boy's spokesman. He does most of the talking during the interview and writes the lyrics, and seems like the most driven one of the lot. As well as doing Fall Out Boy, Wentz has also written a book with tattoo artist Joe Tesaure, 'The Boy With The Thorn In His Side'. It's a dark, twisted tale that could have come straight from the brain of Tim Burton.

"I've always been into Roahl Dahl and people like that, and I was friends with a tattoo artist at the time and we came up with this idea to do a book together," he explains. "It wasn't something I felt fitted in with what Fall Out Boy is, I hate when bands do something that's not 'them'. The book is what it is, and Fall Out Boy is what we are."

Despite all thise talk of nightmares and revenge, FOB are upbeat individuals, enjoying their newfound success, while refusing to allow success to go to their heads. They'll tell you they don't like the shallowness of groupies or industry parties, and that the trappings of rock stardom hold no appeal.

"I don't feel like I deserve it," says Wentz in closing. "It's not like, 'this amount of time and this amount of shows = this kind of bus'. I appreciate what we've got. We've toured in a tiny van and it was cool, but now we're having new adventures living like this. I don't feel we deserve it more than any other bands do."

He surveys the sumptuosly appointed tour bus for a moment before chuckling heartily.

"Actually, that's a lie, we totally deserve it more than anyone else! Ha ha!"

#yayyyyyy #article

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athletic-collection · 1 month

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Chicago Maroons

#wrestling #chicago maroons

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1900scartoons · 7 months

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The Purity Banquet - How Nice: All Seems Lovely Above Board

November 1, 1907

Above the table, Minnesota and Chicago eat Pea(ce) Soup at a Purity Banquet, declaring how much the two teams love each other. Under the table, they wear cleats and clutch weapons, as the team mascots, a pig and a bulldog named Binks face off.

The caption reads "But wait - things may look different when the game begins."

Minnesota and Chicago would be playing football the next day.

From Hennepin County Library

Original available at: https://digitalcollections.hclib.org/digital/collection/Bart/id/5564/rec/1758

#charles bartholomew #political cartoon #college football #chicago maroons #minnesota golden gophers

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l0ves1ckf0ol · 2 years

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hear me out! nevermore has a musical they produce for the spring. they they so happen to do Chicago, the reader is velma kelly and xavier falls in love with the reader while he is helping with set for the show.

CAUGHT IN THE ACT | xavier thorpe

"you're breaking character, xavier. "

also a bit of a disclaimer i only heard abt the summary and i have no time to watch the whole musical but imma just go with my common knowledge i have for this. SO MOSTLY ITSBJUST THEM AND LESS CHICAGO IM SORRY SHSGS

"damn! only got ensemble, what about you y/n?" enid groans, you smirk at her "i got velma kelly." you say a toothy grin growin on your face. wednesday frowned at the conversation, "remind me again, why are you doing this?" she sighs out to you, almost looking disappointed. "i may be the child of the poltergeist and yes i love to hide but y'know i have to try out stuff once in a while." you reply to her, "also it's because of principal weems. she said that i had to do this or else i won't be sleeping in my own dorm, i set one on fire by accident." you add as enid laughed, "you never try out these things, y/n. why the change of heart? also you could've spent beekeeping with me and ottinger rather than be in that horrific display of singing." wednesday wonders curiously, did she see right through you? "just trying things out, wednesday." you breathed out to her, trying to play it cool looking ahead of her to a specific long haired boy who was busy on his sketchbook.

you've never heard of a theatre within the school, but it certainly exists. it's just that it needs cleaning up. you were there for rehearsals, since it was a saturday morning everyone was either in jericho or lazing away in their dorms. principal weems was unsure if you were going to stay put in the school grounds but you stayed behind, truthfully. you suddenly begin to despise being the lead for this musical, the pressure was getting to you and you start to worry if you're going to screw up.

"okay, let's go again, lights-" you announce as you start pacing the stage, "camera- paint?" you notice xavier coming up to the stage with a small bucket of what looked like maroon paint. "sorry for interrupting, please continue." he says politely, walking over to the lousy background of the stage, it had a sickening yellow color to it with loads of crusty paint slipping off the cement. "wouldn't you be at jericho by now?" you ask him as he dipped his wide brush in the paint and started painting from below to above.

"nope, weems asked me this morning to make a good background for the musical, it needs to be barely noticeable because they're using cardboard cutouts as scenes. she said black but for interrupting my coffee hours, i'll go with maroon instead." xavier answered, "could've gone with neon instead to infuriate her more, no?" you offer, wiggling your eyebrows. xavier laughed, "then i'll feel bad." he replies. "you have a soft heart for someone who looks like they ate a piece of lemon." you mentioned to him, he looks at you for the first time he walks in the room with a downturned smile, if that made sense.

"well- don't tell anyone about that. that right there is my biggest secret." he jokes, shaking his head left to right with a scoff. "alright, it'll be our official secret."

- xavier's pov (?) -

xavier never thought of you, or even acknowledged you that much but for some reason, after that conversation at the theatre you were basically unforgettable. he said hi to you in the hallways, everything seemed so monochrome but when you walked in the same room as him? instant color. so whenever he was free, he would do at least something to see you. this had been going on for a good 2 weeks

a week before the final rehearsal, he brought wax because weems tasked him to wax the stage. as he was nearing the door your voice rang clearer and clearer. your beautiful voice. xavier sighs to himself, he was at a loss by now, he tried his best to sneak inside unnoticed but the poltergeist could spot a shadow moving a mile away. so you instantly stopped.

"xavier?"

"oh hey sorry, i came in here to uh... wax the stage." xavier mumbled timidly, finally getting up to his normal height. you frowned, "thought this school was rich enough for maintenance people." you told him, he was trying to find the answers, for a moment he thought you were about to catch him in the act. "or was this only an act of service to suck up to the principal?" he could almost sigh from relief, "um yeah, been failing ms. thornhill's class lately so." xavier lied, he was doing excellently in that subject. a firm "hm." said it all, you probably knew, you just didn't want to spoil the fun. while y/n was singing her lungs off, xavier was sure it had something to do with jazz, he wasn't familiar with the musical. he was pre occupied scrubbing the floors with wax, luckily he wasn't wearing his school uniform since it was after class hours, otherwise those sweet blue slacks were toast. you didn't leave until he finished, you had other plans, xavier was onto you. if you figured him out, xavier was dead to himself and his dignity, i mean he wasn't ashamed with liking you. you were amazing, he just wanted to be sure that he liked you. lies.

"you finished. now, walk me to my dorm will you?" you ask him as you picked up your things from one of the leather seats and went outside as he followed. xavier left the wax at the stage, he remembered to return it tomorrow. as you walked the only sounds both of you could hear were your steps against the cobblestone floor, this only happend for 3 minutes. "so uh-"

"do you like me, xavier?" xavier wanted the ground to swallow him up right now. he stops in his footsteps and you turned from your heel, with a raised eyebrow. testing him. for a moment xavier almost breaks but he endured "do i like you is the question, what do you think?" he said, now you were testing each other. "i think you have had a little crush on me, ever since you painted the maroon background at the theatre. i know the maintenance people here, and i know that weems would never leave out an assignment for them, especially since it's this heck of a theatre that has not been used for a decade." you point out to him, with a devious smirk on your face.

xavier tugged at his jacket and approached one step forward toward you, "we both know you're a lazy poltergeist, l/n. why do you have extra rehearsals every after rehearsal- alone in the theatre?" you scoffed at his accusation, placing a hand on his chest, leaning in slightly, this made xavier's stomach do a flip and made his knees weak. "since we both are onto each other, you and i know the answer." you whispered as you lean back with a teasing side smile, xavier sighs out through his nose, his cheeks could match the theatre background, a sign that he gave up. his slim hands went up to your cheeks, his thumb caressing it. his lips were practically brushing against yours now,

"may i kiss you?"

"you're breaking character, xavier." you smiled, pressing your lips on to his, giving him an answer.

#gn reader #xu's fics #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams netflix #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe x gn reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe

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steviewashere · 3 months

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Everything and More

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Established Relationship, Wedding, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Set in the '90s, Future Fic, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Vows, Dialogue Heavy, Happy Ending

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy."

💕—————💕

They laid in the quiet dark stillness of their Chicago bedroom. For once, it seemed like the bustling neighborhoods of the city were silent. As if the world slowed just for the two of them.

Eddie’s laying on his back. Steve’s wrapped around his right side, cheek squished to his shoulder, arm thrown over his waist, legs tangled, breathing slow and easy between them. He traces his right index finger down Steve’s spine, loving the way goosebumps mingle with his moles. He’s never been more in love in his life.

There’s a brand new silver band on Steve’s left finger. Purchased a week after his impromptu proposal. And he’s never been more sated in his life. He wakes up in the early morning, craving a hot cup of coffee, wandering into the kitchen. He comes around the corner to see Steve at their dining table, orange peeled and slices laid out, his hands wrapped around his mug. That ring shiny, so beautiful on his hand. Belonging. Not permanent, Eddie knows that, but it signifies the permeance he’s willing to share with Steve—and he doesn’t have to put up much of a fight to be loved and desired. Which is apparent in the way he sits across from Steve every morning, a freshly peeled orange set out for him and his own steaming mug of coffee waiting for him.

He splays his palm over Steve’s back, squeezing him in closer with his arm, dropping a chaste kiss to his head of unstyled and silky hair. Adoration surges through him at the realization that he’s the only one who gets to see Steve this way. Soft and sleepy and syrupy slow.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Eddie whispers, gently tapping on the glass of their silence.

Steve hums on his shoulder, turning his head, kissing the bare skin there. He sighs into the hold. “Me too,” he murmurs, “I just wish we could have a whole wedding. Have it be real.”

“Weddings don’t make a marriage real,” he says in turn. “They just mark an anniversary, sweet thing. Our love is real. That’s enough for me.”

“Yeah, but—“ He sighs again, something a little sad. “Don’t you ever think about having a wedding? About wearing a nice tuxedo? Like…I could imagine you wearing a maroon one and I’d have a black one or something.” Steve nuzzles Eddie’s bare shoulder, squeezing his waist, bringing his hand up to trace at the edge of one of his nastier scars. When Eddie looks down, Steve is peering at his hand.

Eddie drags his hand up to Steve’s scalp, dully scratching the way he knows he likes. “Okay, I’ll indulge,” he mutters. “If we could have a wedding, what would you want it to look like?”

The smile to his bare shoulder is enough to know that it was a good question.

“The tuxedos would be the same, I think,” Steve starts. “And we’d have all of our friends and family from Hawkins. Nobody from Chicago. They don’t know us as deep, as intimately.” He hums, thinking. “The chairs would be classy wedding white, decorated with fluffy pink roses on the back. And it would all be outside. So that we could get married under the sun and dance under the moon.

“It doesn’t matter to me what kind of food we have. Or how big the cake is. Or who walks down the aisle. Just that my best man is Robin and Dustin officiates.”

“Why would Dustin officiate? I feel like Hopper would be the best person for the job,” Eddie states.

“Because he like—“ Steve’s hand leaves Eddie’s torso, instead fluttering up in the air. Landing down softly on his skin when the words come to him. “Dustin is really good at remembering things! He’d be able to remember the whole ‘do you take so and so to be your lawfully…’ Whatever it is, I can’t even remember.” He sighs and relaxes. Almost boneless in their embrace, definitely getting sleepy enough to fall asleep. “The words don’t even have to be the same. I just want to say ‘I do’ and kiss you and then slow dance with you. That’s really all I want,” Steve breathes.

“One day we’ll have that wedding, Steve,” Eddie promises. “We will and you’ll be so happy.” He squeezes at Steve’s own bare shoulders, dragging his hand down his spine again, lulling him closer to sleep. “One question I have is, what would our wedding song be?”

“I think,” Steve whispers. “Think I like ‘Just the Way You Are’ by Billy Joel. Doesn’t it match us?”

Eddie nods against his pillow. “Wayne has that record somewhere,” he mutters. “You think Robin works tomorrow?”

“No, why?”

“Just remembered something that I need to ask her. Has to do with Vickie, but she won’t be home tomorrow. Go to sleep, baby. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Steve’s snores against his skin is like white noise to his ear.

This wedding is going to happen, whether it be legal or not.

——— “So, we have tuxedos to wear…for a simple dinner at the local Mexican place?” Steve asks, a confused scrunch to his eyebrows, holding up a black suit in the mirror. “I don’t see why—“

“Steve, just put it on, you goofball.” Eddie saunters out from their bathroom. Chest to Steve’s back. Hands on his hips. He presses a kiss to his cheek. “Just do this silly thing with me, it’ll be worth it.” Steve hums, giving in. “Oh, no margaritas while we’re there. I’ve got plans with you afterwards and you can’t be tipsy for them,” he whispers.

“Oh come on,” Steve whines. “But that’s like my favorite part of that place. You can’t get them that cheap like anywhere!” He eyes Eddie in the mirror, but sinks further into the hold. “Fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll put on the suit and we’ll get orange soda with our nachos. And I’ll see it through.”

“Thank you,” Eddie sings into his ear. “Gotta do my hair, meet me in the car when you’re done jazzing yourself up.”

Operation Steve in Suit is successful. Eddie sees himself to their bathroom once more, tying up his hair, curling his bangs slightly with Steve’s flat iron. Sprays on some cologne and rushes down to the car. Just in time to put in the new tape he picked up. The Stranger by Billy Joel. He is hoping with everything inside of him that Steve is oblivious today. That he doesn’t catch on immediately.

The plan is that Robin and Vickie are coming over to their apartment. They’re going to cut up some roses, take all their supplies, sneak back out to their place, and wait for everybody else. Eddie paid for chairs, the arch. Got Joyce and Hopper and Claudia from out of town, they’ll be there with Argyle to cater some of the food; barbecue and pizza. Dustin will be there with Suzy to practice officiating. Max and Lucas have the rings. Erica and El will throw some flower petals. Will’s painting them saying I do. And Mike is getting all the music equipment set up.

Wayne’s going to walk Steve down the aisle, give him away. Because Steve’s parents won’t be there, but good riddance. And of course, Robin is Steve’s best man. In her own matching black suit. Nancy is Eddie’s best man, also in a beautiful maroon get up.

It may not all go according to plan, but the vague outline and steps are there. And if he can just get Steve to not go detective mode on him, then Eddie’s going to get away with this dream. He’s gonna make this come true, determined to in fact.

——— The other night, Eddie asked Steve to draft up vows.

“Why?” Steve asked skeptically.

Eddie had shrugged. “Well, gives us practice? I don’t know. I began writing mine.”

“You—What?!” Steve shouted. “You started writing vows? But we can’t even—“

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie said simply. “It’ll be something we could share later.”

And he had watched as Steve sat at their dining table. Five different sheets of paper scattered about the surface. His tongue poking out between his lips in concentration. Scratching and scribbling and furiously writing things down. Some lines earned a lovesick grin on his face, others brought tears to his eyes.

When he was finished, he slipped the final draft between the pages of his intro to education textbook. He wasn’t very sneaky about it. Almost like he wanted Eddie to find them, but he held off.

Until today.

——— Nachos were exceptional. And Steve half-heartedly grumbled at not having his usual meal. But he was satisfied with a Fanta and his greasy chips. Turns out he can still pack it away without the alcohol. And he’ll offer up the last chip if there isn’t a slice of jalapeño on it. Eddie takes the chip from Steve’s fingers, lets it be fed to him, and gazes at his soon-to-be husband as his eyes go soft and endearing with the swallow.

“I feel like it’s always better coming from your hands rather than mine,” Eddie lowly whispered. “Lots of things are better with your hands, come to think of it.” He reached across the table and tangled his hand with Steve’s left. His mood ring clinking with Steve’s silver band. God, he can’t wait to replace that thing. “Like my hand is better with your hand in it.”

Steve’s face flushed pink. “You’re a sap,” he murmured. “What’s gotten into you today?”

Eddie shrugged. “Something must be changing, sweetheart. Maybe I’ve gone Grinch on you. Maybe your heart made mine three times bigger.”

“Maybe,” Steve whispered. “But I think you’re up to something.”

“Who said I was up to something?”

“Aha!” Steve exclaimed, before quickly covering his mouth with his hand. A few sets of eyes turned to him, but went back to their food almost immediately. He snickered. “Aha,” he whispered, “Knew you were doing something. Come on, what’s your plan? Why are we wearing suits? How come your hair is up and sleek? What are we doing, babe?”

“Not saying a word,” Eddie dragged. He pulled back and slipped his hand away, stuffing them into his pocket to pay for their check. With the card in his hand, keys in the other, he stood. “Come on, baby doll, we’ve got somewhere to be.”

And with his excitement levels through the roof, Steve bounced up onto his feet, wiggling in place, following like a happy dog on Eddie’s heels.

——— “Keep your eyes closed,” Eddie whispered in Steve’s ear. His hands were already pressed into his eyes, but he couldn’t risk a goddamn thing. They already struggled getting him up the few steps leading to Robin’s front door. All they need to do now is finish walking through her house, through the back door, and wait for Wayne to hook his arm with Steve’s.

That’s all they need to do.

“Smells like Robin in here,” Steve murmurs. “Like…Lavender and chamomile and…Saffron? Is that the other spice she uses in her tea? I can’t—Are we at Robin’s, Eds?”

Eddie chuckled. “Stop asking so many questions. Just focus on moving your feet.”

They took three more small steps before he spoke up again. “Your hands are sweaty,” Steve whispered. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“Baby,” Eddie sighed. “Just move your feet. It’s warm, I’m warm, so I’m sweating.”

Steve hummed, a little unsatisfied. His voice shook, a little nervous, “Nothing is going to jump out at me, right? You know how I get about stuff like that.”

He pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple. “I promise I wouldn’t do that to you, sweetheart. What we’re doing is completely safe, you’re completely safe. I wouldn’t do this if it put you or I in danger, sweet thing.”

Finally, they moved in silence. Steve moving sluggishly, but efficiently enough. And eventually, Eddie’s hand drifted to the back door, sliding it open, stepping out onto the porch. He nodded towards Wayne, his arm slowly wrapping with Steve’s as Eddie’s hands fell away. Quickly, Eddie sidestepped the both of them, walked by all their friends in their cute little seats, and stood at the makeshift archway. He cupped his palms over his mouth and shouted, “Open your eyes, sweetheart!”

In real time, Steve’s cheeks lit up bright pink, his eyes going misty and shiny and stunning. His lips wobbled minutely before stretching into the most glistening, brightest, sunshine like smile Eddie’s ever seen. He mentally pats himself on the back. Good job, Ed, Wayne’s voice echoes in his brain, Made a damn good choice.

Steve giggles. “What is all this? When did—How did—Everybody’s here!”

Beside Eddie, a little radio began to play. The cheesy, classic “Bridal Chorus”. He can’t stop the smile that plasters itself to his face. The pride surging through him. His warmth, his hard beating heart, the satisfaction washing over him in waves. “Come over here, baby, Wayne’ll guide you.”

The first few steps Steve takes are slow and curious and hesitant. But as he strides past the smiling faces of all the people who love him, the people who matter, he grows confident. Goes excited and wonderful. And with no time lost, he’s standing in front of Eddie. A dry kiss pressed to his cheek, pressed to Eddie’s from Wayne. And then they take each other’s hands.

“Said you wanted a wedding,” Eddie says, “So here’s Dustin to officiate it.”

It’s a lot of Dustin stuttering over his words, parsing through pages in his hands, confusion muddling part of his sentences. But the content gaze on Steve’s face is all that matters. Dustin could be reading pig latin and Steve would still be smiling.

Though, when it comes to their vows, Steve’s smile falters. “But I don’t have mine,” he murmurs, a bit sad and a lot defeated.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Eddie whispers. He stuffs his hand inside his blazer, pulling out two folded, loose leaf notebook pages. He hands one off to Steve. A confused glance thrown at him. “You don’t hide things very well. Practically begging for me to read them. Which, I didn’t! That’s your job.” He unfolds his own and then gazes back. “You wanna read yours first?”

Steve grips his paper tighter. Hesitantly nodding, flushing darker on his cheeks. “Uh—I, they aren’t very good. Probably inadequate, honestly.” Though, he brings them closer to his face to read:

“Eddie Munson, you have been and continue to be the reason I believe in things like love and desire. Which, that sounds cheesy, I know. But you know me better than I seem to know myself most days. Every morning, you de-pulp my orange. And you press a sticky kiss to my cheek and tell me how proud you are of me.

“You’ve believed in me even when I thought I was doomed. You have been the reason I refuse to give up on myself. Because you show me, everyday, that I am worth the time. That I am worth the cause. And that I am worthy to follow what my heart needs, desires.

“I can say, confidently, that you are what my heart desires. Everything I do has a little bit of you in it. In fact, on the morning I’m writing this, I listened to a Black Sabbath tape in my car on my way to school. And headbanged the entire time—It hurt my neck, but I understood why you do it. There’s something satisfying about it all. About the way you express your emotions, how you soften your hands when you touch me, how you fill a space both with energy and language.

“It’s funny, I think, that some almost ten years ago, I was jealous of you. Because you were encroaching on my friendships and being braver than I could ever be. But everyday, I realize that all I can do is envy you. Respect you. For being yourself, for teaching me how to be myself. For showing me what it’s like to truly be alive.

“And I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life, alive in your space and your memories and your words. Filled to the brim with your love and then some. I love you more than I thought I could every single day. You are a reason to keep moving, Eddie Munson, and I am dancing.”

When Steve pries his eyes away from his paper, he’s glistening like a diamond in the rough. One in a million. The beacon of light in Eddie’s shadows. They’re crying, but they’re smiling. And it’s all so wonderful, so darling. He didn’t think he’d get this.

“Shit, Steve,” Eddie wetly chuckles. “You’re a poet, ain’t you? No wonder your going to school for literature.” He giggles again. Lets Steve cup his cheek to wipe his tears. Snorts back a disgusting bubble of snot that threatens to leave him. Takes a few grounding breaths and brings his own paper up. “I don’t know if mine will be good, but here we go.” He clears his throat and reads:

“Steve Harrington, where do I even begin with the likes of you?

“You are sunshine. Golden, warm, beautiful. You bring life to things around you. I find myself in your orbit even when your body isn’t there. My clothes often smell like your cologne. And my hair is soft from your haircare skills. My head is filled with pop lyrics and a new sports statistic that I may hear in passing. Sometimes, when you aren’t home, I find myself reading each and every single one of your baseball cards. Just to know you impossibly more.

“Despite some of those silly things, the mundane in it all, I am so glad to be living the simple life with you. To even be alive because of you. Because we haven’t talked about it, I know, but that’s the case. Your hands started my heart, quite literally. You breathed air back into my lungs, also quite literally. But my heart beats the syllables of your name, my lungs inhale your words like oxygen. Every moment with you makes me feel more alive than ever. In every slow morning, waking up to your snores muffled in my shoulder, hair tickling my jaw, your limbs tight around my torso. I am reminded in every morning, having you by my side, that I am alive.

“Because of you. Your determination. Your strength and fortitude. I have you to thank for my life and liveliness. I have you to thank for showing me that there is more than prejudice and bias. I have you to thank for every aspect of who I am as a person.

“Where I would be without you, I don’t even want to know. I am so elated to live the rest of our long, long lives with you by my side. With your warmth in every corner. And your laugh like music to my ears. Your touch like honey on my hands, sticky and somehow always there, but for that I will be thankful.

“In my darkest hours, you are my light. In my brightest hours, you are the shade that protects my skin. And in every hour of every morning, you are the love that surges through my soul.

“I love you, Steve Harrington, and I am determined to show you in all the moments of forever what that means to me.”

Enamored is one way to describe Steve’s face when he looks up. Absolutely lost in the space between them. His hand is on his cheek once more, wiping away tears. His lips pursed to coo. Eyes soft, so damn soft, every ache in Eddie’s body dissipates.

The kiss they share to seal it all, it may not be any different from every single one they’ve shared. But the way their breaths mingle, they breathe forever between pulls of lip.

Eddie’s never been one to think of himself as a married man, but the beginnings of this wedded life—not much different than how he’s already been living—tastes good. He gets to brag about a spouse, that’s something new. Oh, the bragging rights he’s privy to now. What a wonderful, wonderful thing.

——— Steve’s not a good dancer still, Eddie realizes. He steps in time to their song. But he more so just sways in place while Eddie leads. His eyes are soft still like a glowing candle’s flame. Eddie’s chest is lit by a passionate fire.

“Stevie, baby,” he whispers. “Is this basically everything you hoped it would be?” He nuzzles his nose into Steve’s, kisses his cheek, and pulls back to gaze.

“This is everything I wanted and more,” he murmurs. “I can’t even tell you how happy I am. Like all I want to do is just jump in place or something. There’s no words to say.” He drops his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder, his hair silky against his neck. “You even got the pink roses for the backs of every chair, how’d you do that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Talk to Robin and Vickie about that one. They’re the creative geniuses here.”

“I still can’t believe you got everybody to come out here for us,” he whispers.

“Are you kidding, Stevie? When I called Robin to say that I wanted to have a backyard wedding, she screeched her excitement into my ear. She could’a blown up my eardrum,” he chuckles. “Everybody else was easy. Just called them and said we were having a wedding, that it was a surprise, and they were on board.”

A barely there kiss is pressed into his neck, Steve’s breath ghosting. “I love you so much, Eds. Thank you.”

“I love you, too.” He pulls Steve back a little as their song dies down. The last of Billy Joel serenading between them. “How about we go slice some cake? Hear some stories. We’ve got a honeymoon to go on.”

The way Steve bounds away from him, jumping on the balls of his feet, hands fluttering at his sides by the cake stand fills Eddie with glee.

Good job, his own voice echoes inside him, you made your husband really happy.

He didn’t think he’d ever get this. But by the side of the person who saved him, quite literally and metaphorically, he realizes he has the chance to have everything. Steve is everything.

Every word in the language of the universe and that still wouldn’t be enough to describe the love he carries. Love was a fleeting thing before. Before somebody like Steve Harrington.

💕—————💕 I had so much fun writing for nearly every prompt, sans the very first day. I hope this is a satisfying last fic to round off my writings for steddielovemonth. Thank you for all the support on every fic. Sorry if I made you cry, but I hope this soothes. Eventually, I'll have a whole folder where my fics are in chronological order. But for all of my steddielovemonth fics, you can them on Ao3: steviewashere

Love you all <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tooth rotting fluff #wedding #steddielovemonth #day 29 #last day which is so bittersweet

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deadpoolsoci3ty · 3 months

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so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 5

summary: I just wanted him to tell me we were okay. Was it over? Just like that? Would I ever get to hear from him again?

word count: 1211

warnings: none

masterlist

(a/n this is all i have for now but ill post another chapter soon)

Chapter Five: out of breath

It has been three days since I talked to Alastor. Every day I’ve tried to contact him and he won’t answer. I didn’t even do anything wrong, he was the one who decided to confess his feelings, and now he’s ignoring me? That’s fucking unfair. He makes me fall for him and he runs away. I grabbed the radio for the second time today. “Alastor, please…” I just wanted him to tell me we were okay. Was it over? Just like that? Would I ever get to hear from him again? I had never been upset at him before, but at this moment I wanted to strangle him. I waited for a few minutes to see if he would come, but he didn’t.

I knew that I needed to do something to get my mind off of Alastor and whatever he was doing. I decided to get changed into outside clothes and take a walk to the Dunkin’ Donuts near my apartment to get a drink. I grab my headphones and my coat before I make my way out of the door. It was still chilly here in Chicago and the wind was blowing my scarf away from my neck. I was trying to fix it as I crossed the intersection. I didn’t even see the car coming, but I definitely felt the impact.

The car ran a stop sign. I had barely left my house. When it hit me it was the most painful thing I’d ever experienced, but now as I’m lying on the street looking up at the sky I can’t feel any of that pain anymore. I’m sure that I’m dying, and all I can think about is that I never made a deal with Alastor. What was going to happen to me now? Am I going to end up in hell? Would I ever be able to find him? A group of pedestrians surrounded my soon-to-be lifeless body, several of them were on the phone, and I could only assume they were calling 911. I knew that I wasn’t going to survive this, breathing was too hard, I could feel the coolness of my blood beneath me, and I knew in my bones that my life was over. It was finally setting in as tears welled in my eyes, I had so much I wanted to do. I had plans to go to graduate school, move to New York and work in publishing. Now, I’m dying and I get to do none of that. All my friends here are going to lose me and I’m going to lose them. What about my parents? They live so far away, and they’re about to find out that I’m dead. My poor mother. I remember hearing the sirens, but they weren’t very close before I was gone.

It was quiet for a few moments, and dark, like I was floating in a vacuum. Then it felt like I was awaking from a deep sleep, I began to feel the ground beneath me. It wasn’t the rough pavement I was on before, but now it felt more like dirt. I slowly opened my eyes and started to look around, everything was covered in some sort of maroon haze. I looked down at my hands and they’re pointer than they used to be. My skin is now a light greyish, but I still have the same hair. I run my tongue over my teeth and they’re sharper as well. The city surrounding me didn’t look much different than most cities I had seen in my life, but I could hear screams echoing all around me. I gathered myself and gently stood up. This definitely wasn’t heaven, which could only mean that I had ended up in hell. Once I had gotten to my feet I started stumbling around trying to find my balance, and when I did I started walking. I found my way to the side of a building so I could lean on it. I was trying to keep my cool because if I didn’t I’m sure I would join the chorus of screams around me. I took a deep breath and found the street in front of the building, and I’m sure everyone around me could see the visible confusion painted all over my face. There were shops and restaurants lining the streets and the people that lived here seemed like they were happily living their lives. I looked over the roofs towards the skyline where there was a large clock in the center of the city. It was too far away for me to be able to read what it said.

Once I got a grasp on my bearings there was only one thing I could think about, how was I going to find Alastor. Looking over the buildings once again and I see a shabby looking shack with an unlight sign but I can see that and it says ‘on air’. If Alastor was going to be anywhere it would be there. I slowly but surely make my way to the tower, and before I walk my ass up to the door and knock on it I take another deep breath. I had never seen Alastor before, the only thing I knew about him physically was what his voice sounded like and it was enough for me to feel the way I do, so I’m not sure what he looks like will affect how I feel about him. Forcing my legs one after another to make my way to the door, and knock on it. I wait for a beat before knocking again, making sure whoever is in there definitely heard me. My hands were shaking and I was beginning to lose my courage, but I heard footsteps making their way towards the door. This was it, the last moments before I (hopefully) came face to face with Alastor. The footsteps were getting close. What if I just walked away? He had done it to me. I saw the door knob turn. I’m about to shit my pants, I’ve never been this anxious before. The door swung open, and I saw a tall man with large red ears atop his head accompanied by shoulder length cherry red hair. The blazer he was wearing was well tailored, but it had tears and holes in it. He carried with him a staff that looked like some sort of microphone. The demon spoke, “Hello!~ Alastor…” I know he continued to speak because I could see his mouth moving but once I heard that name my ears started ringing so loudly that was the only thing I could hear, I was hyperventilating and just couldn’t seem to catch my breath. He seemed to recognize what was happening with me and snapped his fingers in front of my face, “Dear, I don’t enjoy being interrupted or ignored. I asked what you are doing at my front door?” My first thought was how upset I was that I wasn’t the only person he uses pet names with. Whatever, that's a different conversation.

“Alastor, it’s me!” I couldn’t think of another way to make him realize who I was.

“I do not know yo-” he cut himself off a moment after he started speaking, “Sweetheart?”

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