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#now i have like 3 days to prepare myself for the likely emotional devastation of ofmd s2
siambre · 1 year
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Are you safe from the earthquake? Was worried about you. Hope you are well.
hi, thank you for your concern. my family and i are alright. mentally, however, we're devastated. i don't personally know anyone who died, but i have friends who lost their whole families.
entire cities are gone. wiped off the map in 2 minutes. thousands have died, thousands will follow. the news will say 10 thousand, 15 thousand have perished. it's much more than that. so much more.
from the moment i heard about the earthquake, i've been thinking of the thousands of people stuck under the rubble. they're injured, starving, dehydrated, and breathing in dust. we're in the middle of a snow storm. those people are freezing to death. in places where it's raining, they're drowning.
i'm feeling so many emotions i can't name them all. i'm grieving thousands of people i don't know the names of. i keep seeing videos of mothers, fathers, children digging into the rubble with bare hands. their screams are haunting me. i'm terrified of a similar earthquake happening in Istanbul. scientists have been warning for it for decades — and since Istanbul is our financial capital and the most populated city in the country, that earthquake will be our downfall. not only that, but i've experienced some huge earthquakes myself. the thought of going through that, but everything being a million times worse is petrifying. i'm angry, so fucking angry at the government for not taking any precautions against disasters like this. this country is sitting on top of 3 separate fault lines. we experience 6+ magnitude earthquakes on the regular. we should be prepared for this. there's no reasonable answer as to why so many innocent lives have been lost. look at Japan. they've had a 9 magnitude earthquake, and not a single building collapsed. you know why? because they're actually aware that they're vulnerable to earthquakes, so they took appropriate actions against it. WHY AREN'T WE DOING THIS? WHY DID SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE TO DIE? so many families, dead or torn apart forever. all so that greedy contractors can cut down on costs by using less and worse quality materials, sell the houses for 3-4 times their worth, and pocket all the extra money. the government knows about them. of course it does. they're voting for the govt, that's how they attain their immunity from justice. i'm so fucking sick and tired of the corruption. the government didn't send search and rescue teams to provinces who voted against it. where's your humanity, your conscience? how could you turn a blind eye to the victims? how can you be so heartless? can you not hear the screams for help coming from beneath the mountains of rubble? how can you sleep on your warm bed, knowing you left thousands of innocent souls to die, buried under their homes and snow?
and you know what the worst part about this is? this exact scenario happened before. in 1999, a similar earthquake in a different region of the country killed 40.000. we've learned nothing from it. we still build graves and sell them to unsuspecting families. the govt introduced an earthquake tax after 99, specifically to prepare for these sorts of situations, yet look at us now. we're relying on each other and foreign governments' aids. where did all the collected tax go? especially in the last couple of years, many people no longer have enough money to feed themselves. who did those people make rich this time?
i'm crying as i type this. out of sorrow or anger, i don't know. it's all i've seem to be doing for the past few days. i've donated all of my clothes i don't wear, donated food, will donate blood the moment i can. i can't eat, knowing so many can't. i can't sleep, knowing so many can't get a wink of sleep while waiting helplessly for their families' corpses to be dug out. i feel guilty for having a warm place to stay, to wear clothes that keep me from freezing, for having to continue living my day-to-day life. i feel ashamed for having fleeting moments of happiness.
i don't fucking care anymore. i don't care if the govt will trace this back to me and throw me in jail. my only hope is that the its supporters will finally wake up to reality following this catastrophe. i hope the new govt will learn their lessons and build safer homes.
as for you anon, this probably wasn't the answer you were expecting. i just have so much pent-up frustration, it has to come out somewhere. i can't sit still and say nothing while the president continues to destroy my country. in short: yes, i'm physically well. thank you.
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lucivar · 2 years
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For the writer asks, prepare for bombardment!
3, 11, 13, 19, 22, 39
P and Q ♥️
~~~
Thank you so much for the submission @sweetsoundsofignorance! 😭 tumblr hates our love and has refused to let me comment on any of your replies so I will spam your asks later with dumb jokey reflections 🖤
Answers under the cut!
3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?
Cursed or awesome? I spend WAAAAY too much time making myself playlists and picturing scenes for graphic novels, I shirk writing to draw elaborate scenes no one will ever see, I make mood boards, storyboards and folders for reference, I must write at least 70% of a long fic before I publish the first chapter, I have always been aggressively obsessed with schedules, which I am now learning to chill the fuck out. For my own fic, thinking of character names and appearances takes up my whole life, and writing lore can be a job unto itself. I forget time and space exists when I write and will go a whole day without food some times. I get up at any time in the night when inspiration strikes and jot down thoughts like an insane person.
11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?
Hahahah I kill so many darlings, some of them on whim. I keep a detailed graveyard of darlings, with completely new drafts for each major plot change (of which there are usually 5 = pentagram = devils symbol = cursed) and completely new drafts for major chapter breaks or consolidations. I keep an 'offcuts' chapter that is organised by run scene so I can find content again if I need. I think I have been most ruthless with Undue, and have more deleted text than included text, but it's great because I read it with a vindictive thrill knowing how many darlings I murdered to get to this point. I am at a point with Undue that I had three options for the ending and I wrote myself debating points for each side to see if the one I chose was the strongest. The other two were slaughtered. 🖤
13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?
I think certain characters are easy than others and certain scenes are easier than others, but I think this is a hard question to answer in entirety because I tend to select stories and plots I find exciting, so I never really work on anything truly 'difficult'. Over time, I pick different things to focus on - Inevitability was a study in how two very incompatible people could be smashed together, Summer Shivers was plot by dialogue (which was weird for me), Viper was extremely detailed mystery, and Undue is plot by emotional spiralling (so much fun!). I find at the moment, in Undue, I have difficulty/joy in expressing exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it, but that's where the enjoyment and learning comes from!
19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
Answered here!
22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?
I know you think I am really organised, but I don't think I have optimised my system yet so it all feels very haphazard...
I use boards and coloured postit notes to block out the narrative storyboard, including key clues to the character, key clues to the audience, key main character interactions/feelings so I can glare at it for a while to make sure the flow makes sense.
I block out an outline in high-level action/feeling statements, usually dictating where I want to end the chapter (peak mystery or devastating cliffie). I use notes app and actual note books to jot down ideas and flow of chapters, which I then parse into my outline.
For certain technical things (e.g. historic weaponry, detailed lore- or, in the case of Viper Radio - a goddamn 'murder' board) will create step by step folders with colour-coded notes that detail to me what I as the author should know, versus what my characters and readers know. Reading this now seems peak psycho, thank you 🖤
39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?
Other, adjacent creative activities, like research, world-building and art. I love researching and I am a very curious person, so can spiral into aspects of a story trying to get to the bottom of some niche point, or spend hours writing lore and history (complete with timelines, historical figures, religion and present-day myth) or spend hours drawing my poor little meow meows.
Also reading, commenting and drawing fan art helps me too! Appreciating other's work (esp. yours), lore, research and trying to convey that in creepy art is always inspiring!
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football-rambles · 3 years
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Over Again - Declan Rice
Based on One Direction - Over Again. For the One Direction Series, which can be found here.
Disclaimer: This is all fictional purposes. 
The sky was different colours as the sun was going down, stood on the steps in the garden. His eyes fixed on the scenery Infront of him. His perfect jawline added beauty to his already handsome face, his piercing blue eyes held kindness and mischievous. He was perfect to you, just like when you first met him.
But something changed, he wasn’t the same man you used to know, he was now different. Sure, he still cared, helped me and the passionate evenings were still there. But he never ran his thumb over yours as you held hand, never kissed on the cheek despite the fact he used to do it all the time and even barely asked you about your day.
Declan had changed.
You both were in a relationship for five years, five beautiful years of love, trust and hope. You were by his side when his career moved full speed ahead, supporting every his every decision and accepting his career, and even accepting the occasional mean comments from his fans. You were either him even though you were lonely on the nights he was away either for games or international duty, even being with him meant you accepted the fact that you would be hated and judged. But you did all this because you loved him.
“Dec babe,” You said softly, you weren’t even sure what you were going to say, but he somehow understood, and his gaze met yours. He studied your face for a while before looking away with an almost audible sigh.
“I need to tell you something.” He spoke after a while as he looked at you, “Remember that day when I came home, exhausted and you were here waiting, you ordered dinner and you were in your pjs. You didn’t ask me questions, or yell at me for not being home late, even if it was your birthday. Remember?” You nodded, not sure what he was getting at, but you let him continue “That night I told you how much I loved you, and how I can’t imagine life without you beside myside Y/N. I don’t feel that anymore. I just don’t love you like I did. And if you walked out now…I don’t think I would try and make you stay.” He finished.
In that moment, you felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach, the world came crashing down.
All hopes of the future you planned in your head disappeared. You tried to say something, but you couldn’t find the words to speak. You choked on your own saliva, as the tears blurred your vision, you stood up and walked away from him.
From his life.
3 years later
Walking across the street, easily avoiding the rushing people running to the tube station entrance, beads of sweat forming on your forehead by the speed you were walking as you was heading home from work, despite no one to go home too.
The moment Declan broke up you left you devastated, afraid to live on your own, of course you had your best friends that helped. You found a job that you enjoyed but you worked too hard to try and ease the pain that Dec broke your heart, and you were sure you couldn’t stop loving him.
You never contacted him and neither did he. But you couldn’t escape him, his face was around London from time to time with him at West Ham plus how well England are doing in the euros. Of course, you were happy for his success, mainly because you knew how much he struggled, but he was doing great. Even if Dec wasn’t in your life anymore you were proud.
“Y/N” I heard my name being called which made you freeze on the spot, causing a few mutters from passers by trying to get to the tube station. No, it can’t be? You questioned as you turned your head slowly and found yourself staring at the Blue eyes that you fell for all those years ago.
“Declan…” you whispered.
“How are you?” he asked, after a moment of silence as he looked at you.
“I’ve been better,” you admitted.
Again, there was a moment of silence, to you it didn’t feel awkward. But you looked up at him and moved strands of hair behind your ear.
“Did you want to grab a coffee? Somewhere quiet?” He asked after a while, indicating to the bustling commuters. It was only when he guided you to a Starbucks on the corner is that you nodded.
You sat in the café, as Declan brought the coffees across to the table you sat on after politely thanking him you sat back in the chair and looked at the coffee.
“Why Dec? Why did you say those things you said?” You found the courage to ask him after a few minutes staring at the coffee mug.
“I’m sorry,” He responded as he sunk in his chair a little, but he didn’t look up to you. “I’m not going to lie; I made the biggest mistake to let you go. I should of never…I shouldn’t have said those things. I was scared, I was afraid of pushing you away to the point you would leave. So, I did it because I loved you too much and thought it would be easier.” Declan explained as you listened.
“Did it? Make it easier?” You asked looking up at him.
“Honestly? No. I struggled with my performance for a bit but then I sort of threw myself into training.” He spoke “Then I walked past you and I couldn’t let you just walk away knowing I saw you.” He continued.
“Could have picked a better time, I’m not looking the greatest, after a long shift at work.” You spoke.
“Couldn’t tell” Declan replies smiling. “I know it’s going to be a long road I mean it’s been three years…but could we maybe start it all over again?” Dec asked.
You placed the mug down and looked at Declan. You stared at him; mixed emotions started to run through your head. It was something you was dying to hear but at the same time he left it three years too long.
“You can’t push me away, like you did. If you’re struggling, you need to tell me. We’re in this together whatever the situation is.” You told him; you weren’t prepared for anymore heartbreak.
Declan nodded and looked at you “Promise.” He answered.
You looked at him and gave a small smile “Then we can start over again.” You replied. You nodded telling yourself that you made the right decision, and you knew that he wouldn’t make the same mistake that he made three years ago.
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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years
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Lost & Found - 10
Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)
Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment
Word Count: 5.1k
a/n: thanks for waiting! I normally post in the mornings but life happened and this is also a super important chapter (lol, they all are) that I needed to make sure was prepared to launch us into phase 3. (yesss, there are phases!) as always, thanks for reading, and let me know how it went!!
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Chapter 10. Blue & Grey
series masterlist
Yuri steps into the back a moment later, coming to lean up against the counter beside me as I struggle to free myself from Taehyung’s gaze. In the span of a single blink, his eyes soften and he’s wearing a pleasant expression as Yuri begins to speak.
“You said you wanted to talk about something important with me?” Yuri urges, looking a little worried yet elated to have such prominent figures in her small bread shop. Namjoon nods hastily, sparing me a glance.
“Yes, thanks for seeing us. We know that this is a little...strange, perhaps. But we wanted to make sure everything was settled before things can get out of hand.”
Of course, my heart begins to race a little more. “What do you mean, ‘get out of hand’?”
For all the world, Taehyung looks like he’s ready to answer me, but Namjoon responds before he can get a chance. “Yuri, I’m assuming that you’re aware of Jolie’s, erm...accident.”
“Oh, of course,” she offers me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand what that has to do with anything you’re here for.”
Namjoon and Taehyung share a look before turning back to Yuri and I. Clinging to my apron which I have yet to remove, I pray that they can’t see the slight tremor in my hands. A thought passes through my mind, completely unbidden and foreign. Before I’m able to stop myself, the words dive off my tongue.
“Is...is he alright?”
Taehyung’s gaze snaps to me, brows furrowing as he looks genuinely confused. Namjoon, however, takes in my white knuckles and hunched shoulders, and gently smiles.
Before Namjoon can reassure me, however, Taehyung jumps in. “He’s fine. We’re here to discuss other things, however.”
The way that Namjoon doesn’t say anything to cross Taehyung has me realizing that while he may be the leader, this is a completely different ballgame.
It’s me, Jimin’s disgraced soulmate, against Taehyung, his proclaimed soulmate.
I know a losing game when I see one.
“Right. Yuri, we’ve got to discuss some sensitive information with you today. Would you be willing to sign an NDA?” Namjoon steers us back on course, even as Yuri glances back and forth between Taehyung and I.
“Oh. Y-yes, of course.”
Clapping his hands together, Namjoon dives right in. “Perfect. Well, I would like to discuss a few things with you. Taehyung-”
“Yep.” Without leaving me an opportunity to ask questions, Taehyung is coming to stand before me. “While Namjoon is explaining some things to your boss, we’re going to have a chat.”
Glancing over at Namjoon, who is leading Yuri to one corner of the large room, near the storage area, I receive no mercy. When I turn to look back at Taehyung, I catch him staring down at my thread with a faraway look in his eyes.
Needing to have something to keep me going while I receive what I’m sure is going to be a royal chewing out, I turn to head over to the worktable.
“You talk, I’ll knead.”
I’ve learned something about Taehyung in the past few minutes.
He doesn’t hate me as much as he would like for me to think he does.
It was quiet for a long moment as I sprinkled flour over the worktable and pulled out a slab of dough I had been planning to let some of the other employees use later on in the day. With my heart in my throat, I began to beat it into shape. For about a minute, the only sound in the workroom was the sound of the dough against the table and Namjoon’s hushed conversation with Yuri.
Taehyung sidles next to me, the silence suddenly becoming blaringly loud as he watches my hands. Over and over again, I roll the dough. Once it’s sufficiently loose and pliable, I begin to shape it.
“So this is your job?”
He can’t keep the curious tone out of his voice, and I glance over at him to see his wide eyes flitting between me and the dough. Almost as though he can’t quite believe it.
“What did you think I did?” I ask, not able to refrain from my sarcastic streak. “Buried bodies?”
Just like that, whatever angry storm clouds were lingering in his eyes dissipate and he laughs. Laughs loud enough that both Namjoon and Yuri pause in their conversation before continuing.
“Honestly,” he confesses, “something like that. Yeah.”
I snort, returning to the dough. “Nice.”
“Do you think you can teach me?”
“How to bake bread?” I ask, curious at his change in attitude. I see him nod in my peripheral.
“Yeah. I think it looks amazing. Very therapeutic.” He pauses, and I can almost see the thought bubble hovering over his head. “We have a pretty big table at the house, you could probably use it. Or does it have to be a certain material?”
A part of me freezes under the nonchalant mention of the house he shares with my soulmate. The way he’s testing the waters, assessing me for any kind of reaction.
Another thing that I’m learning about Kim Taehyung: he picks up on everything.
“Er...what kind of table is it? Like, is it a countertop or-”
“Oh, yeah. The big one is the kitchen island. It’s a granite countertop I think...Namjoon hyung!”
There’s no need to yell, but he does anyway.
“What?” Namjoon asks, bewildered but used to this kind of behavior.
Taehyung turns back to me, shrugging. “It probably is. Would that work?”
I blink, wondering if it’s ok for me to laugh at what just happened. Shouldering through it, I focus on the dough again. “Yeah, granite’s great for dough.”
Taehyung looks lost in thought, but I’m starting to realize that I should always be on my toes around him. Indeed, he recovers quickly and decides to finally discuss what he came here to talk about.
“I’m assuming your boss doesn’t know what really happened,” he states quietly enough that there’s no way Yuri can hear him from across the room. A simple shake of my head is all it takes to confirm what he said. Glancing around the room, he notices the back door.
“I think it might be best if we step out back for a moment.” Taehyung takes a step toward the door before stopping to look back at me where I stand with the dough still in my hands. “Unless you need to finish that first…?”
I shake my head, pushing the dough back into a metal bowl and covering it up with a cloth. Wiping my floury hands on my apron, I follow Taehyung to the back alleyway. The sun is nearing the highest point in the sky, bearing down on us and filling my bones up with a little warmth despite the general chill in the air.
Taehyung makes his way to the opposite wall of the alley, looking around as though checking for spies before facing me. There’s no need for me to question him as to what’s going on, he can see the question clearly in my eyes.
“We have a Muster coming up in less than two days,” he begins, crossing his arms. “Jimin is going to perform on stage for the final song.”
It takes a moment for me to fully understand what that means.
“They’ll see what happened,” Taehyung continues, watching my every movement. “And I think it’ll be all too easy for people to see you and instantly accuse you. Which, they won’t be wrong. But still, it could get ugly.”
I know what he’s implying. Suddenly life will become a burning hell for the scarce few that have a severed thread. Which, by my understanding, is no more than a handful.
Immediately my thoughts go to Christina. “What about those people that have nothing to do with it but could be accused?” It would be devastating for her to think that she’d been the one to bring Jimin so much pain.
Taehyung tilts his head to one side. “You keep surprising me.” Before I can ask what he means, he continues. “That’s what we’re here for today. In order to protect those people and you, Bighit has to come up with some sort of cover story. Make it really seem like an accident. We just need to keep you out of sight while things get straightened out.”
Dread, cold as ice as just as sharp, sluices through my veins. “No.”
I can tell that this, at least, Taehyung was expecting. “You don’t have a choice-”
“So you want me to hide away forever?” I hiss, rocking back on my heels. “People will find out soon enough. And they’ll rip me to shreds!”
That cold fire from before is back and blazing in Taehyung’s eyes as he listens to my objections. “No! They won’t, that’s the whole point. They’ll understand that it was an accident-”
“Which they’ll immediately want to fix!” I shout, the sound echoing down the alleyway. “You don’t understand, no matter what you tell people, this ends up with me being forced right back where I was before.”
“And where was that?” Taehyung seethes, taking a step forward and making me stumble back. Those hawk-like eyes see how I react, but there’s no pity in them. “How horrible for you to be stuck with someone that would only love you. That would never ask for anything in return. That just wanted - wants still - nothing more than to be linked to you in any way possible.”
The confession falls flat in the face of my fear, however it’s something I know will come back to haunt me later. Instead, I allow my roaring emotions to take over even as I find that my back is now pressed against the wall.
“Of course I want that!” I shout, and Taehyung blinks. “Of course I want him! Did you want me to go to your house and grovel at his feet for forgiveness, and then teach you how to bake bread like some big happy family? Did you want me to tell you all about how the first and last thing I think about every day is Park Jimin and how I know the perfect way to hate myself for cutting this?” Throwing my hand up into the air I bite down the sobs that try to surface. “I sat and watched this thread burn not because I didn’t want him, but because I had to remove myself from his life before I could enter it.”
I can see the objection brewing in Taehyung’s mind, but I stop him.
“Jimin is not the problem,” I sigh out, utterly exhausted. “He became everything to me the second I saw him, but he is everything to everyone. I...I can’t be that. I don’t think I ever can.”
Taehyung’s eyes clear, and he looks down at me with sudden understanding. I want to lash out, writhe under that understanding, but I can’t stop the way his thoughts seemingly click together.
“I- Jolie, you’re not a puzzle that’s missing a piece. You don’t have to suddenly click into a pattern that everyone else has. You’re a human being,” Taehyung says reverently, and I wonder for a moment if someone has said this to him before. “You are allowed to just bake bread for the rest of your life, if you want. Nobody is going to ask you to stand on the stage, not even Jimin.”
“But I feel like I shouldn’t keep doing the same thing if I’m with him. I have to be more, somehow.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Taehyung admits. “Just because you’re allowed to be comfortable and hide away doesn’t mean you should. It’s tempting, I’ll give you that much.” He shrugs, still looking at me with that new light. “But you’re allowed to learn at your own pace, venture out of your comfort zone when you feel brave enough to do it. Just know this: most people never feel brave enough but do it anyway.”
“Why?”
Holding up his left hand where his deep red thread extends to the ground and through the back door, he smiles softly. “We deem the risk worth it, in the end.”
I’m just processing the fact that I had a screaming match with Taehyung when Namjoon pokes his head out into the alleyway. Both Taehyung and I turn to face him, looking guilty.
“I told you that I’d have to end up explaining everything,” he remarks drily. “Did you two manage to discuss the plan?”
Somehow, as Taehyung and I sheepishly shake our heads, I feel like I’ve made an ally in an enemy.
Jolie (Elle): This is me telling you that I’m still alive, as you requested.
Me: Wow. That bad of a day? Are you going to take a nap?
Jolie (Elle): Literally as soon as I get home. I have to stop by the store and grab some cat food, Elle nearly murdered me in my sleep over it last night.
Me: I can literally feel your exhaustion through the phone.
Me: Was work ok??
Jimin has to wait a little while for a response. He just got a text from Namjoon, notifying him that they were headed to the Bighit building. When he asked him how it went with Jolie, he’d only received a vague answer.
It did nothing to calm his nerves. Especially knowing that Taehyung, even though he’d promised him that he’d stay calm, had gone in there with no shortage of wrath.
Jolie (Elle): Fine
He’d been afraid of that.
Me: 😟
Me: I’m so sorry, sounds like today has officially sucked
Jimin stares down at his phone, waiting for some sort of response.
Jolie (Elle): No need to apologize.
Jolie (Elle): It was my fault anyways.
“No,” Jimin whispers to himself, eyes wide as his fingers fly across the screen. Before he can even think about the message, he sends it. All he wants is to stop this ache in his chest that he’s sure Jolie feels as well.
Me: I wish I was there.
Three little dots appear on his screen, Jolie typing a message, but then they disappear. A moment later, they come back and a message follows.
Jolie (Elle): It’s fine, really. Texting is enough, I really appreciate it
The butterflies that erupt in Jimin’s stomach are enough to make a grown man cry, but he knows deep down that a text is not enough. Bringing his phone to his ear, he listens to the ringing. Taehyung and Namjoon walk through the door of the practice room right as Jimin begins to speak.
“Hi, I’d like to place an order.”
There’s something on my porch.
I noticed the little pop of color as I began up the stairs to my apartment, carrying a grocery bag with catnip and a bar of chocolate, my excuse for a pickmeup. It wasn’t until I made it to the top of the stairs that I realized what it was that was waiting for me.
A bouquet of flowers. Hydrangeas, white and pink hydrangeas are waiting for me. They have a dewy shimmer to them, catching the sunlight just right.
Obviously, this is a mistake.
“Elle, look at these,” I coo as I shoulder open the door. Immediately the white cat appears, sniffing at the bag filled with catnip rather than the flowers. “Nooo, not that. The flowers.”
She doesn’t care about the flowers, apparently. Giving in, I gingerly set the flowers on the counter and get to work setting her food out. Once Elle is feasting away, I turn back to the flowers.
“Now, who were you supposed to be delivered to?” I hum, plucking the small envelope from amidst the arrangement. Taking a generous whiff, I close my eyes as the sweet aroma fills my senses. “Ugh, whoever they are, they’re lucky. These are absolutely beautiful, don’t you think?”
Again, Elle proves that she really couldn’t care less about the floral arrangement on the counter. Except to maybe knock it over, perhaps.
Slipping open the envelope, I take in the short message.
Jolie,
Because a text isn’t enough.
-PJM
“PJM?”I breathe out, staring at those initials with wide eyes. My breath comes up short as I reread the card again and again, flipping it over to see if there’s anything else. Some sort of clue.
“Elle, these are for us.”
The only response I get is a lazy swish of her tail, but I’m not paying attention to her anyway. All I’m looking at is that bouquet of flowers that’s meant for me after all.  
Ripping my phone out of my back pocket, I open it up to my text conversation with Jaemin. Scrolling through his concerned texts, trying to see if I’m doing alright. With shaking hands, I type out the letters.
Me: PJM?
“She’s not ready to know the truth,” Taehyung reports.
Jimin sits beside him on the couch, arms crossed and looking out the window with a glazed expression. The other members listen to every word that Namjoon and Taehyung are saying, finally getting a full report of the events at the bread shop.
Nevermind the fact that it’s been hours and it’s nearly midnight.
“What? That Jimin’s actually Jaemin?” Jin stretches a little, bumping into Yoongi who hardly notices. “I mean, it’s not like it’s that much of a stretch.”
Taehyung shrugs, glancing over at Jimin who has yet to say anything. “We talked-”
“Screamed,” Namjoon corrects. Jimin perks up at this.
“What were you screaming about?”
Taehyung assesses his friend, deeming him capable of receiving this information. “You. Her own insecurities. Bread.”
“Bread?” Jungkook questions, but it goes unanswered.
“Some part of her wants to be with you,” Taehyung explains, completely overlooking Jungkook’s curious expression. “But she’s freaked out. Kind of like how Jungkook mentioned before, when you first started texting. She’s so in her own head that it’s hard for her to see that you wouldn’t demand her to become some sort of celebrity.”
“She thinks that I would?” Jimin asks. He left his phone in his bedroom, deciding to leave Jolie’s simple question, PJM?, until after he’d had a chance to discuss it with everyone. He knew what she was asking. It was a deliberate choice of his to put his initials on the card rather than the fake name.
He couldn’t stomach her thinking that the flowers were from some random Jaemin, when they were in fact from him.
Her soulmate.
“No, not necessarily. She said that she feels like she would have to become something more, though. Purely because you are who you are. And I think that’s something that really scares her.”
It’s also something that Jimin doesn’t know how to fix. “If she’s not willing to get out of her own head, then how am I supposed to help her?”
Namjoon pipes up. “She seemed a lot better, though. I think, whatever she’s doing, she’s getting better. Chung-hei mentioned that she’s seeing a therapist, actually.”
Jimin sits back. “Good. That’s good.” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “What did she say about the plan?”
The plan. It wasn’t much of a plan. In reality, it was more of a precaution than anything. They all knew that everything would be a mess after Jimin goes back into the public eye, and Jolie would be at risk by just stepping foot outside her door.
“She agreed to be chauffeured,” Namjoon says. “I mean, obviously she’s not happy about it, but she said she understood.”
Jolie would be picked up in the morning and after her shift by a nondescript car driven by Bighit employees. Anytime she needed groceries, they would pick them up for her. Do anything they can to keep her out of the public eye.
“I’m kind of surprised that she agreed,” Jimin admits. “Maybe that’s a good sign?”
There’s a grumble of agreement, and soon after the boys are dispersing. Only one day left until the Muster, tomorrow was going to be busy with final rehearsals and preparations.
Jimin heads up to his room, laying on his bed and staring at the short message from hours earlier.
Jolie (Elle): PJM?
Sighing and ignoring the nerves in his stomach, Jimin just prays that all is not lost.
Me: Yes?
For now, she’s asleep. He doesn’t expect a response anytime soon. Rolling over and facing the wall, Jimin tries his best to close his eyes and let everything roll off his shoulders.
She’s bound to find out sometime.
Jimin’s hands are sweaty as he paces below stage, listening to the roar of the crowd as his brothers perform above him.
The Muster came all too quickly.
Yesterday passed in a blur, consisting of Jimin checking his phone every few minutes only to find it void of any incoming messages. In his heart of hearts, he knew.
She must suspect that her newfound friend is her soulmate in disguise.
It’s with this knowledge that Jimin steps onto the lift, waiting for his brothers to finish their goodbyes before going up for the encore performance.
Looking around him, Jimin watches the staff and stage crew bustling about, preparing for the end of the Muster. Needless to say, his gaze wanders to the countless threads that overlap and lead in every direction. It’s always amazed him, how they never get tangled. How nobody ever trips over them.
Jimin has always marveled at the fact that somehow, somewhere on the other end of those threads is another person. Someone just as busy, just as oblivious to the lifeform attached to them through indescribable means.
Park Jimin has always been told that he would be the best soulmate.
He’s kind, and considerate. Loving and forgiving beyond all comprehension.
It’s something that he has believed is a lie. Every night, even before Jolie cut the very thing that tied them together, he’d lay in bed and stare at that red thread. Wondering what would happen when his soulmate was inevitable disappointed in the fact that their star-studded soulmate was just...him.
Tonight though, as the lift carries him up toward the stage and the beginning cords of “Blue & Grey” begin to play, he begins to believe.
He would be the best soulmate.
Perhaps this is the moment where he proves it. Without hatred, without envy. Without a wounded look in his eyes.
With that conviction humming in his bones, he rises to the stage and walks out under the spotlight.
The arena around him booms with sound as Jimin walks toward where his brothers sit in a semicircle. They gleam with sweat, still breathing heavily after their last performance. As Jimin takes a seat, he looks out into the crowd.
He sees the exact moment they realize what’s missing.
Or rather, hears.
That roar of the crowd, his ARMY so happily welcoming him back to the stage after his long absence, turns to deafening silence.
Into the silence, Jimin sings.
Blue & Grey plays out, Jimin raising the mic to his mouth and singing his parts with a steady voice. He waits for the end, hoping that the CG team in charge of the large screen behind him was able to carry out his request in time.
Taehyung sings the final words, his voice carrying in the quiet arena. And behind Jimin, three letters are traced out across the screen.
PJM.
As soon as the song is finished, the boys get up from their seats and make their way to the lift. They shoot Jimin curious looks as they spot his initials, but he shrugs it off for now. He can only hope that the person it was intended for saw them.
They’ve just made it to the lift when the wailing begins, the crowd having finally broken free of the spell that Blue & Grey wove over them.
“Saranghae Army!” Jimin shouts into the mic, smiling softly. The other members begin to bid them goodbye, reassuring them. They all know it will do little, already a few members of the crowd are inconsolable, but they do it nonetheless.
“Twitter is blowing up right now,” Christina says, scrolling through her feed. I lay on her couch, staring at her television.
I’d come here to see if I sounded like a crazy person for taking Jaemin’s initials so seriously. However, I can’t shake the feeling of something being off.
Naturally, I’ve ignored the problem by not responding to him for a day. I’d say it’s a step up from what I’ve done in the past. At least I’m not cutting him out of my life, right?
“Isn’t it always blowing up over something?” I drawl. When I don’t get a response, I look over to see what the big deal is about.
Christina sits up in her chair, hand thrown over her mouth as her wide eyes stare at her phone.
“What? What happened?”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “I...you need to see this.” Screen-sharing with her TV, a stage replaces our episode. “He went public. It’s official.”
Ah, right. I’d also come to give Christina a fair warning about what was about to happen. Jimin going public today was the other thing occupying all of my thoughts, but I didn’t realize just how big it would be until I see the impact he had at the Muster.
Heart racing and stomach churning, I watch as Jimin appears on stage.
“Wow, that’s a statement,” Christina comments. “Doing ‘Blue & Grey’ as his comeback song?” She catches my eye, realizing who she’s speaking to. “Oh. Right.”
As Jimin settles down and Taehyung begins to sing, I find myself utterly entranced by him. He looks calm. Confident.
The world falls silent in what I assume is the moment people begin to notice that there are only six, not seven, red threads up on stage tonight.
Jimin doesn’t falter in the silence. Instead, he fills it with his voice.
“I’d forgotten,” I croak out. The rest of the words won’t come easily, but thankfully Christina understands what I mean.
“Yeah. He has a beautiful voice, doesn’t he?”
Wordlessly, we watch the rest of the performance. I can’t help but notice the fact that the cameras never pan too far so as to not see Jimin. I’m sure that they’re just as shocked as everyone else is.
As the song comes to an end, I find that somehow my eyesight has become blurry. I can’t quite tell what’s on the screen behind the boys even as Christina begins to shout.
“Look! He- he’s confirming it! Look!”
Rubbing madly at my eyes, I get a closer look at what’s on the screen. The second I see it, I stop breathing altogether.
PJM.
It wasn’t a coincidence.
“It’s him.”
Christina leans forward as the video ends, looking at me for a moment before laughing. “I mean, are we actually surprised? He didn’t try that hard to hide it, now did he? Park Jaemin, seriously?”
As much as I would love to laugh at this moment, I find that I can’t.
My new friend. The one I would scramble to read whenever I got a notification. The one that constantly checked up on me.
The one obsessed with my cat.
“How?” I breathe out.
Christina doesn’t bother to offer a reply, just watching me as the gears shift in my head. No answers are forthcoming, of course. Just the small sliver of truth that keeps on coming back.
“My soulmate is my friend,” I say. It’s obvious, but it’s important.
Jimin is my friend.
Letting out a sigh, Christina nods. “Yes. Your friend.”
The only other coherent thought that crosses my mind has me getting to my feet and slipping my jacket on over my shoulders.
“I need to go.”
“What do you mean, ‘need to go’?” Christina gets up after me, following me to the door. “Aren’t we hitting a major breakthrough right now? Your estranged soulmate is also your friend. Park Jimin isn’t just some celebrity, he’s your friend. Someone you can trust. I mean, sure, this doesn’t mean you have to barge up to his house and see him. That would be weird anyways, because then the thread would reconnect and only extend a few feet, at least, that’s what I’ve heard. It’s weird, because it’s almost like the thread has a mind of its own, you know? In order to defend itself upon reconnection, it keeps a short distance between the soulmates until it's sure they’re safe-”
“Christina.” I turn around to face her, one hand on the door. “He’s my friend, right? A good friend.”
She nods, looking a little confused. “Yeah, I thought we already established that.”
“Friends deserve an explanation, right?”
Christina blinks, looking a little nervous. “You’re not going to visit him, right? You should take the proper precautions for that, you never know how the bond with react-”
“I’m not going to see him,” I reassure her. “I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”
Before she can question me further, I’m out the door. Keeping my head down as I head out on the main road and pass a group of teenagers, I overhear their shocked conversation.
“How does that even work, though?”
“I don’t know, but my dad’s cousin nearly had his thread cut-”
“I bet it’s all for publicity,” another remarks. “Don’t know why they need it, though.”
“Why would they cut a thread for publicity? Idiot, it’s probably CG. Maybe they did it to raise awareness or something.”
I don’t get to hear how their conversation ends before a black SUV pulls off to the side of the road and a woman sticks her head out of the window.
“Hey,” she flashes the ID hanging around her neck. I recognize it as a Bighit ID. “Operation Chauffeur is in full effect now. Hop in.”
It’s unsettling how they found me so quickly, but I distinctly remember agreeing to this plan just a couple of days ago. Sliding into the backseat, I ask the driver to take me home.
“Your name is Jolie?” The woman asks, hands on the steering wheel.
“Yes.”
“I’m Sunmi. Looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
As I finally bid Sunmi goodnight - she’s oddly friendly for a Bighit staff member that’s typically charged with driving BTS around - I stumble into my apartment and head straight toward my room. Elle hasn’t arrived back home yet, probably still out on her nightly jaunt.
Which, apparently included Jimin without me even knowing it.
Flipping the light on to my room, I see that the Seoul City Electric envelope is exactly where I left it.
Sitting down at my desk and finding an empty page in a notebook, I take a deep breath.
Once I exhale, I begin to write.
And write.
And write.
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wishingicouldfly · 3 years
Text
I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.
Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.
I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.
My all time favorites are by @helloamhere
1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229
Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?
Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.
But this isn’t that universe.
//an X-Men AU.
Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.
2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921
“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”
“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”
“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.
“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”
“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.
“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”
“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”
Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.
3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350
The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.
Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.
@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.
Other favorites:
1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539
Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.
Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.
2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings
Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.
Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.
Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.
3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942
AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.
Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.
4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601
Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.
5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901
Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.
When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.
Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.
6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807
AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?
Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.
7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322
AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.
Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.
8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322
Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.
Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.
9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871
The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.
Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.
10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796
Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.
Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.
11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904
AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.
Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.
12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6
Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.
Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.
13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633
Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.
What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.
Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.
14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345
AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been.  Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.
Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.
15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262
A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.
With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.
Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.
Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?
In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.
Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.
16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628
Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.
17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744
Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.
Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.
18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480
2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.
Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.
19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499
AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.
Me: AKA the Scuba fic.
20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236
Harry grows wings.
Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.
21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...
my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282
When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.
Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.
A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.
Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.
I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.
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hypmicdaydreams · 3 years
Note
yeay grats on 100! could i request the kiss prompt for rosho with "in a bar" because of (secret) "longing"? drunk shenanigans may be ensuing if you'd like hehe, ty for your work!
Ahh thank you sm anon <3 This was a fun prompt to write, so I hope you like it just as much as I did! Hope you enjoy 💕
"𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴" with rosho
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-pairing: rosho tsutsujimori x gn!reader
-genre: fluff
-summary: rosho feels like he can’t hold in his feelings for you any longer, longing for you already; and then he sees you at the bar.  
-word count: ~1.0k
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rosho tended to overestimate just how much alcohol he could hold at once, always drinking more and more each time his glass was empty. the next morning, he’d vow to never drink that much again given how terrible his hangover was, but of course, he never did keep through on such promises. wasting the night away at a bar was a bit fun, rosho had to admit, and tonight was no different. 
sasara had invited him out for drinks, and within a few shots or so, rosho was pretty much drunk, to the point where he was bound to forget everything that occurred right now the very next day. 
but rosho and alcohol was also a dangerous combination. 
he was an emotional drunk, and more often than not, he spilled out his feelings on quite literally everything to sasara each time they went out. whether it be getting a bit teary over how one of his students seemed to have given up on their dreams or a tirade about how the nearest convenience store just changed the brand of pudding they sold, and now it tastes much worse for twice the price, sasara often found his rants entertaining. that was especially true tonight given how rosho seemed to go on and on about a crush he’s too afraid to approach. if rosho was sober, the thought of telling his friend his romantic feelings for someone would’ve never even crossed his mind. well, let’s hope he forgets about this moment tomorrow.
“i just want to,” he hiccupped, “tell them how much i...how much i like them.” taking his glass in hand, rosho downed the rest of his drink. “i wanna go out with y/n so badly…” the image of his fellow teacher coworker flashed through his mind, and a quick melancholic smile flashed across his face. rosho was longing for you, for your warmth, your touch. each time he saw you helping out the students or preparing your papers for next class, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. 
“you should ask them out then. you’ll never know until you try.” sasara was enjoying this immensely considering rosho’s crush was news to him. he never did tell anyone that he was pining after you, especially not sasara who he figured would try to set him up with you, which probably wasn’t that far off from the truth. plus, the idea of telling someone his feelings was too iffy. rosho didn’t like it. “oh man, you’re so drunk you can’t even lift your head up.”
“what if y/n rejects me?” he poured more alcohol and drank to the thought of that. “i don’t think i could live with myself,” rosho paused, a blank look in his eyes as he tried to remember what he had been saying, “if that happened.” oh man, he didn’t know how he could even face you if you didn’t like him back. the two of you were coworkers after all, and it would make things way more awkward. 
“come on rosho, you don’t know that. the worst they can say is no.” the notion of confessing simply didn’t sit right with rosho, however. sure, he’d prefer it if the two of you were dating, but he was much too shy and awkward to approach you first. he’d much rather watch you from afar and take the chance of getting his heart broken if you went out with someone else. ‘no’ coming from you would surely leave him devastated. 
“but that’s the point! i don’t want y/n to say no. i want...oh, they’re over there.” 
sasara leaned back in his seat to try and get a good look at who exactly rosho was talking about. and sure enough, a mere few seats down from where they were sitting though enough for you to not hear them (it was a saturday night; the bar was bustling with conversation and live music), you were there. with one glance, sasara certainly understood why rosho was crushing on you. 
“aha, speak of the devil! rosho, this is your chance.”
“mm.” it was an incoherent grumble, but sasara wasn’t going to give up just yet. his friend’s crush was right there, sitting right next to them. there was no way he’d let this chance slip away from rosho. 
“well, i’ll just go up and-”
“no!” needless to say, sasara was a bit taken aback by how loud rosho was right now, but he couldn’t help it. if sasara went up there, who knows what he would’ve said to you. it’d most likely be some embarrassing memory of him, and rosho couldn’t stand you thinking of him as some sort of fool. ugh, if it had to come to this. “i’ll go.” downing his drink one last time, rosho got up and stumbled to where you were sitting. 
you had sensed that someone was approaching you, though you were more than pleased to see that it was none other than rosho. you didn’t even know that he frequented this particular bar. 
“oh, rosho! it’s nice to see you-”
you were cut off as he suddenly kissed your cheek, however, which flustered you to say the least. it may have also done so to rosho who was red in the face right now, though you didn’t know if that was the result of alcohol or not. was this some sort of greeting? confession? you really couldn’t tell, but the sensation of his lips on your cheek was still there, stinging in a rather delightful way. 
“i’ve always wanted to do that,” he muttered, thinking of how great your skin felt underneath his lips. he had longed for your touch for way too long, and now, he had finally gotten a glimpse of it. rosho was more than content, and as such, he knocked out on the table right then and there. 
you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of a sleeping rosho as his friend came over to apologize to you, shocked that rosho had even done such an act. sasara had told him to confess, not kiss you out of the blue! and he didn’t even do the former!
but you didn’t mind too much; you thought your coworker was quite adorable.
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allthingsfern · 3 years
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In order, my responses to comments in Reply of my COVID19 era post that was my answer to my question “My answer to my questions: Has the era of COVID19 changed your photography? How? And perhaps also, why?“ I am so confused now...
adventuresofalgy
Algy thinks you are lucky and - certainly if compared with Europeans - perhaps quite unusual in not having experienced a more profound effect on your creative outlets and expression. Many of Algy's creative friends have experienced wide-ranging and often severe impacts on their creativity and associated motivation - and therefore on their mental health as well.
themazette
As @adventuresofalgy Jenny said.... you are lucky...
I am indeed very lucky, or as I think of it, blessed. However, it is no way a US thing, nor even a California thing. I add California, because I know many in the US and around the world think of the Golden State as a haven, a progressive, hippie filled state that is all about peace and love and marijuana. However, that is far from the truth. California is like Germany in the 1920s and 30s. There was Berlin, where there was a wildness in the city that was not shared, and was often looked-down on, by those in the majority of the country, who lived in more conservative areas and who, often, economically could not afford the grand life of partying Berliners. In California it is the same. Except for a few urban areas, the state is full of very conservative folks, and for them, like for those in the cities (and in the rest of the world) this COVID19 era has been devastating. Well, and the fires for Californians have been too.
Even in this cool college town where I live, which is lovely and quiet and inspiring, the painfully empty streets, movie theaters, restaurants, shops (think of all those unemployed people) is (still) staggering. In mid-March last year, right after lockdown, I took several phone videos of the deserted street in our town and the campus, but I could not bring myself to share them, since I knew that so many others here on Tumblr were experiencing the same desolation in many different ways. (I figured: “Why add to the sorrow we are living, almost globally?”) I was overwhelmed by the emptiness of the major (well, major for a small town of around 65,000 people) street where I live and the empty bicycle trails and street on campus. And by empty, I mean that even now, I see maybe 3 cyclists per hour, and very little car traffic. Remember, this is a bicycle town; I do not own a car, doing most all my errands on my bike with its 2 fordable baskets in the rear.
And now, over a year later, that same heavy, oppressive emptiness persists. And no, I am not used to it. And yes, I traveled over the last year, but I found the same suffocating blanket of emptiness in each city I visited, even in Las Vegas. It was unnerving. As a matter of fact, last year when I drove to San Francisco 2 months after lockdown for my birthday, I wound up getting depressed and disoriented, in a city where I lived for almost 7 years. Driving back home across the Golden Gate Bridge with tears of sadness in my eyes on my birthday was not what I expected. However, I did get some solid photos of the malaise that hung thick in the air, a malaise that physically took up the space that once was taken up by crowds of people.
Now, I am also very aware that my situation is unique. (Not a fan of the word exceptional, since it can mean both unique and special, and I do not see my situation as special.) My life situation is very unique in that I have a job I love and I work with a great team of characters. We get work done and we have fun, share about our lives. My job is often, especially since COVID19 first got noticed in early 2020, stressful and demands my colleagues and I learn (and sometimes then teach) lots of new technology and that we adapt to the vagaries of the technology gods, which are sometimes unfriendly and unresponsive. And a big part of my job is trying to figure out how to get the technology gods to like us again and grace us with their gifts. (I never realized, until now, with this discussion, that the troubleshooting that is a big part of my job is creative and probably fuels my photographic creativity. Who knew?) Yet, as a group, my colleagues and I support each other. And I am fortunate to count my closest colleague, Steve, as a friend. We have been a great emotional support to each other over the years and now through this COVID19 era. And I recently was reminded (as if I needed reminding) just how unique my work situation is because I participated in a committee that was going over responses to a UC Davis-wide survey exploring levels of employee satisfaction. My 2 colleagues who were also on that committee and I did not have the complaints that others from other departments shared. We work well together, have supportive management that share what is going on and include us (as mush as possible) in the decision making process. And as a department, we get stuff done.
Possibly the best example of how blessedly unique my situation is is what happened this morning when I was talking (yes, on ZOOM) with my immediate supervisor. We discussed the work related stuff, including how at around 10:30 pm the night before I figured something out about an online tool integration I had never done before that I knew was easy but I did not see as easy until I reread the overly complicated instructions a couple of times and just figured out how and where to cut and paste the lines of code (it was that easy, just fucking cut and paste some lines of JSON code) that got the fucking thing to work. Then we talked about his dealing with his young children returning to school and how “normal” now is not “normal” from before and how disruptive the whole thing has been, yet since we work in a supportive atmosphere (and are both salaried), he was able to deal and keep living.
Then, and you are gonna love this, I shared about my original COVID19 question post and the responses and pretty much said to him what I am sharing here.
We talked for a little over an hour. That kind of rapport is rare, for any job, anywhere.
And then there is another way my situation is unique. In some ways, previous “bad things” were actually a preparation for this era of physical distance and uncertainty. In mid-2019, from July to August, first because of my work related bowling concussion and then an antibiotic resistant infection, I was bedridden for about 5 weeks and then had several absences because of concussion issues, like sudden and extreme anger flare ups, nausea, headaches. But however bad I thought that concussion and infection were, the concussion induced forgetfulness and my desire to sharpen my mind and nurture and nourish it have lead me to become, in my old age, organized. I now often take notes of important stuff, add work and personal dates and notes to my Outlook calendar, and even know what day it is, which bugs my colleagues who often find they have no idea what day and/or date it is. Yep, unique, but the bad concussion shit got me to be organized in ways that I was never able to be before, no matter what I tried. This time, I just fucking get organized, without thinking about it too much. And if I fuck up with my being organized, like I did the other day for work, I admit it, fix it, and move on.
Preparation for isolation (and unexpected natural threats) came by way of the 2018 Northern California (the region where I live) fires that year, which caused the campus to shut down for about a week. (As my friend Steve called it, the smoking break.) And for work, my colleagues and I faced a couple of long term, emergency technical outages that impacted all of the UC Davis faculty, one of them for over a month. Pretty much on a professional and personal level, I was, if not ready, at least getting used to the WTF of whatever life decides to surprise me with. (And lets not forget the really bad fire last September, seen in this video I posted of ash “snow” falling. We did not have to shut down the campus because there was no one there anyway.)
Another aspect of this last year, and one that has been present in my life for a few years now, is the BLM movement and the brutal police violence against Black people in this country. As someone who was a teaching assistant and taught in African American Studies and worked closely with students of color on campus in a student run organization, I was and am still devastated, in part because I know, from hearing so many personal accounts, the pain many of my friends, former colleagues, and former students, are still facing and how overwhelmed they felt and still feel. I understand, if as an outsider, their emotional exhaustion. This has been going on for a while, plus add the years of anti-immigrant hate against the Latinx in the US and the rising tide of violent hate against Asians, and yes, it has been sorrowful. Heartbreaking. And I have, in several ways, including my photography, tried to capture the sorrow and resilience of US people of color. It hurts, almost physically, that many people of color are just tired of talking and dealing with the hate.
So, yes, my situation is unique, but with its own emotionally draining weight. And yes, I am extremely grateful. This leads to the other 2 comments in Reply:
kkomppa
Thank you for sharing, Fern. Very interesting. Like you, I would say my output hasn’t changed much. However, I have sought locations deeper in the wilderness. This has been fulfilling.
schwarzkaeppchen
Really interesting thoughts. We live in strange times, but creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons. My photography has changed a lot. I used to work as a photographer at events and took portraits for fun... Now I'm officially a portrait photographer.
Both of these comments point to another unique aspect of my life situation: For some of us, our photography and how we do it, has not changed much, and if it has, that has been a part of our overall experience with this art form we love so much.
For me, because of my depressive tendencies, the Zen of photography, at least the way I do it, is therapeutic. And I do not use the  term “Zen” lightly here, because my spiritual life has helped me come to terms with the WTF surprises that are pretty much life, if at times the WTF of it is more impactful, as it is during this COVID19 era. And that is part of what I was trying to share with my original post: Before this period of isolation and disorientation, I was already coming to grips with the gospel truth that “creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons.” as @schwarzkaeppchen​ said. In no way do I diminish the anguish flared up by these bleak times that impact so many around the world. And really, when you think about it, bleak times have been a norm, at least here in the US, since late 2016, though, of course, lockdowns and physical distance make it all worse. But, at least for me, I try to learn from the bleak times, even if I abhor going through them. And when dealing with the highs and lows of creative energy, at least for me, I have a calm certainty that photography is part of my life and I do not have to worry, since I only love it more each day. And the other side to my certainty is that if someday my love of photography fades, some other treasure of creativity will replace it.
Let’s be real, because of photography. I think about stuff like this and get to have discussions with so many great Tumblr original photographers.
And I am grateful for it, and no, this is not unique to my life situation. I know many of us love being here and sharing the good, the bad, the confounding.
Please think about joining @tvoom and me for InConverversation this month. It has been a long time since we talked, and this COVID19 era will be our topic.
I am grateful for all y’all.
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grumpyhedgehogs · 3 years
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(you taught me) the courage of stars
Summary: “I know what it is like, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan tells her. “I know what it is to leave the Jedi with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you are doing the right thing.”
Or: Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.)
Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse (childhood, emotional, physical, mental), mind control.
Pt. 1.
Pt. 2, Pt. 3, AO3 
Notes: 
This idea has been bopping around in my head for a WHILE, y'all. It's basically an amalgamation of my dreadful desire to put Obi-Wan through pain while also giving him some Therapy Because Boy-Howdy Does He Need It and my absolute adoration for Ahsoka Tano. The basic premise of this fic is: What would happen if when Ahsoka left the Order, she went on a road trip through all of the worst hits of Obi-Wan's childhood?
Bonding. Bonding is what would happen.
Title from 'Saturn' by Sleeping At Last.
Nautical Dawn
Ahsoka runs.
Rain sheets down around the togruta, digging into her skin like a million icy knives. Her soaked clothes weigh her down as she sprints blindly, plastered to her, dragging against her limbs. She is chilled to the bone, but not from the storm.
There is no one here to look closely, to separate her tears from the rest of the water obscuring her vision. She takes a turn, breath hitching beneath her ribs as she passes into a tunnel free of rainwater. There is a light at the end, beckoning, promising freedom. She’s almost out. She’s almost free.
She shouldn’t have to worry about being free.
Footsteps sound behind her as she runs, hurrying after her. Panic closes her throat and Ahsoka tilts, stumbling off balance. She throws out a hand, gasping as the Force rises to meet her command, buffeting her back to her feet. If she can just get to the end of the tunnel--
“Ahsoka, wait!”
Ahsoka had been prepared for Skyguy’s voice to ring out behind her. She’d seen the look on his face, knew he’d look for her when she ran. She’d been prepared for law enforcement, or even Master Windu or Koon to come looking for her--someone with experience hunting for Force Signatures on crowded planets. She’d thought she could do this. After all, if she could turn her back on Anakin, what couldn't she do?
Ahsoka hadn’t thought Master Kenobi would come for her.
“Stay back!” The words tear from her throat, scraping it raw. Her lips burn, her eyes burn. She whirls on him, knowing she must look crazed, deranged, animalistic. Good. Let him see what the Order has done to her. “Stay away!”
Further back down the tunnel, Obi-Wan Kenobi raises his hands to shoulder height and plants his feet. His fringe is plastered to his skin too, and his robes and armor drip rainwater steadily to the filthy concrete below, as if he’d simply bolted after her instead of manning a speeder or taking a transport. His chest heaves in time with Ahsoka’s. Her muscles clench and release, her spine a hot iron rod in her back. The Force whispers in her ears, loud, wanting attention. But Ahsoka pushes it away. It’s hard to hear the Force on Coruscant, sometimes almost painful; there are too many Force Signatures here, and too much turmoil clouding her perception. She can’t let it distract her now.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan says. His face twists with the words. Ahsoka wonders if he’s noticed her tears.
“Don’t come near me. I won’t go back to the Temple.” You can’t make me, she almost continues, but the words can’t be forced from her mouth. She bites her tongue instead, shuffling back, and ignores the tang of blood. The whole thing is almost laughable; in any other situation she’d sound like a petulant teenager. Master Kenobi wants her to go to her room. You can’t ground me because I’m not part of this family anymore!  
Ahsoka feels sick. She takes another step back. She sees Obi-Wan’s eyes widen. He does not move.
“I’m not trying to take you back to the Temple.”
The words make no sense; they sound like static in her ears. Nerves make Ahsoka snarl at him. It’s a trick, it has to be; the great Negotiator, giving up his prey without a fight, without argument? The Council no doubt sent him after her, and Ahsoka isn’t going to fall for it just because he has a friendly face. They’d have better luck sending Anakin.
“I’m not going to take the fall for something I didn’t do!”
“I am not asking you to,” Obi-Wan replies, and raises his voice over Ahsoka’s incredulous protests as she opens her mouth again, venom on her tongue. “I am asking you to listen to me now because we don't have much time before law enforcement realizes I’ve slipped them and begins searching for both of us. I think one of them might have put a tracker on me, so you’ll need to get as far away from here as possible after we’re done, am I making myself clear?”
No, Ahsoka thinks, mind swirling with questions and accusations, panicked. You aren’t being clear at all. “Why did you follow me if--if you’re not going to arrest me?”
“I need to give you this.”
Master Kenobi lowers one hand, his movements stiffly telegraphed, and holds out his open palm. From his damp glove float three items, bright enough to catch the low light but too small to make out in the shadows they stand in; Ahsoka catches them with the Force thoughtlessly, the movement second nature. It’s almost like the old games they used to play in the creche, rolling a ball back and forth with only the Force. She does not look down at what he’s given her, only closes her fists around them and stares. The Force pulses around the objects in her hand, curling around Ahsoka as she inspects Master Kenobi, looking for some reaction, anything to analyze how he's feeling or what he's thinking. But Obi-Wan's not moving, not making any motions towards her. His voice is clear and hard and not unkind. He stands as parade rest and makes sure Ahsoka can see his hands.
Ahsoka blinks, startled as she realizes that Obi-Wan does not have his lightsaber on him. Not that he isn’t a threat unarmed, but--has he underestimated her? Perhaps he hoped he could manipulate Ahsoka into coming back with him?
Or does he not intend to do anything of the sort?
“The datachip is encrypted,” Obi-Wan tells her like Ahsoka isn’t reeling. He speaks quickly, businesslike, as if he's about to lead Ahsoka into battle rather than--rather than help her run from the law. “But it’s nothing you won’t be able to slice into. I couldn’t get ahold of your sabers, I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve--but there was no time. Do you have a way off planet yet?”
Numb, Ahsoka shakes her head.
Obi-Wan nods and his hair flops with the movement, flicking water down his nose and cheeks. The urge to laugh hysterically bubbles in Ahsoka's chest, but she swallows it. He points over her shoulder, out of the tunnel. “Head to Dex’s diner, in the lower levels. He’ll be able to get you on a ship wherever you want to go. Check the chip if you can't think of somewhere safe. There will be papers waiting for you.”
“You--you’re letting me go?”
His lips twitch into a simulacra of his usual smile. It looks wooden. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Anakin wouldn’t do this. Anakin would ask her to stay, implore her not to leave. Does Obi-Wan want her to go? Does he think she really did it--that she hurt their family?
He wants nothing more to do with Ahsoka. He’s throwing her away like day old trash, just like the rest of the Jedi.
There’s a soothing wash of calm in the Force; it emanates from her grandmaster, rolling in waves towards her own nexus of grief and pain and fear. For a moment, Ahsoka lets it wrap around her, a comforting blanket against the cold that has enveloped her for days. Then she comes to her senses and, horrified at her own childishness, shakes it off. Obi-Wan is still smiling that awful, empty smile. “I know what it is like, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan tells her. “I know what it is to leave the Jedi with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you are doing the right thing.”
Unable to help herself, Ahsoka lashes out, cruelty squirming sickly in her stomach. She wants--she wants Obi-Wan to stop talking, she wants him to feel her devastation, she wants him to see how she is crumbling beneath the weight of what his Council has done to her. “You don’t know anything about what I feel!”
Obi-Wan loses his smile; his face looks strange; it is as if Ahsoka has never quite seen him before. He is old and worn. There is a deep sorrow carved into his skin. His gaze unfocusses for a split second, eyes far away while he looks at her. She shivers; it isn't Ahsoka Obi-Wan sees standing before him. There’s something else there too, down underneath the rest of it, something that makes the lump in her throat triple in size, something she can’t name. The gifts Obi-Wan gave her bite into the skin of her palms, the datachip and whatever its companions are drawing Ahsoka’s blood in the darkness of this tunnel. Escape looms at her back.
“Yes, Ahsoka. I do. Now you must go--flee!”
Ahsoka runs.
As she does, one question burns into Ashoka's mind: if she asked Master Obi-Wan to come with her, would he?
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weasleydream · 4 years
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Family reunion - Part 3 (Last part)
Here we are for the last part of this mini-serie! I hope you enjoyed it and don’t forget to tell me what you thought about it, I really would like to know. Enjoy!
Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 
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Later that day, while Fred, George and I were eating dinner, I told them what happened at the Ministry. I told them everything, except the fact that Percy was afraid they would hate him forever. I felt like I didn’t have the right to do so, and I could just hope that one day, he would have the courage to face his beloved family.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
The two following weeks had been busy, to say the least. 
George was almost constantly angry because of Percy’s reaction. I knew he would have been, I knew him quite well. The Ministry’s commands of Shield Hats were increasing, and made it impossible for the boys to keep up, I had to help them although George was not okay with it. Being aware that I didn’t like Verity’s proximity with him, he had begun to be more distant with her, which obviously didn’t please the helper. In short, our private and professional lives were full of tension. 
However, George had never been sweeter with me than now. He always tried to keep his anger away from me. He was so protective, and when we cuddled together, his hands eventually found a new home: they both rested on my belly like a loving protection for our baby. 
We were currently in each other’s embrace. The moon was shining in the sky, but I couldn’t find sleep. It was like this since the day we found out I was pregnant, one week ago. Too many preoccupations were in my mind, too many questions were obsessing me. 
Would I be a good mother? My only model was Mrs Weasley. Of course she was awesome, but was I really able to be as gentle, caring and perfect as her? And the war… We didn’t even know if we would have a future. I was afraid - no, I was terrified. What if something happened to George? He would do anything to keep us safe, but that was the point: he would do anything, even if it had to kill him. Without him by my side… Of course, I would have Fred: he would be broken, devastated, but he would still be here for us. If only nothing happened to him. 
Merlin, Y/N, stop this right now! They are both here with you, alive and okay. Stop this!
But I couldn’t. The dark in our room was an invitation for the dark thoughts. It was like when you’re a child: you’re not afraid of the dark but of what’s inside. I was in the same situation. What was scaring me was the vicious fears creeping where I couldn’t see them. I curled up in a small ball, my head resting on George’s torso, and his slow and regular heartbeat acted like a beautiful lullaby. 
“Fireworks, really?”
I had just told the twins about my idea. I wanted to announce my pregnancy in a special way, and considering their talent, I had thought fireworks could be fun. George smiled sweetly while holding my hand. Fred, however, seemed like he couldn’t believe it. 
“Yes, it could be fun! Plus, I thought you loved fireworks?” I added in a teasing tone.
“Of course I love fireworks! It’s just… Well, usually, you’re not the one to propose such extravagant things.”
“I know, but we’re going to announce the arrival of George Weasley’s baby! We have to do something extravagant.”
“I’m in!” Fred was, indeed, very excited to organize a firework at the Burrow.
“Whatever you want, babe.” George agreed. 
It was going to be fun. 
The friday before Easter, Bill arrived from France. He had let Fleur with her family. 
“I know mum doesn’t really like her and I didn’t want to ruin her family reunion.” he explained. 
The flat was small and, even if Charlie, Ron and Ginny weren’t here yet, we were starting to run out of room. Fred shared his room with Bill and they would be joined by Charlie. George didn’t want me or Ginny to sleep on the couch: he decided to sleep in the living-room with Ron while Ginny and I would stay in the room. When Charlie, Ron and Ginny arrived the following day, the flat was full. It remembered me of the Burrow at Christmas. 
It was the first time in more than two years that Charlie was in England and he had plenty of fascinating stories about dragons. We spent all the saturday afternoon listening to him, watching him with big eyes, gasping when he told us about a particularly dangerous Hungarian Horntail, Ginny and I cooing when he described the three dragon births he had the chance to see. 
By this time, the fireworks were ready. Fred had decided to develop them alone so that it would be a surprise. No one knew about the baby: obviously, the Weasley were suspicious, they knew something was going to happen but we did a pretty good job ensuring everyone this reunion was perfectly innocent. 
Easter was the following day. Everyone woke up way too early for me. Once Ginny in the kitchen, I was alone in the bedroom, still under the soft blankets. George came to see what was taking me so long. When he saw me half-asleep, he couldn’t resist the temptation and cuddled with me, which caused Fred and Ron to mock us the entire morning. 
We had decided to take the Knight Bus in order to go to Ottery St. Catchpole. When we finally stepped out of this hell-with-wheels, relieved and wanting to throw up (it was my case), we headed towards the Burrow. The walk was nice, the sun was already high in the sky and the trees showed the most beautiful colours. Soon, the fantastic house could be seen, and Charlie seemed a bit emotional. We stopped outside, in front of the door, positive that Mr and Mrs Weasley were up but not aware of our presence. I grabbed George’s hand as I was starting to feel stressed. He hold mine tight, sending me a sweet smile as Fred knocked at the door. 
To say that Mrs Weasley was shocked was an understatement: in fact, she looked like she didn’t know if she would scream or faint. Fortunately, she choose the first option. Her shouts of joy along with her tears were heartwarming. She practically jumped into Charlie’s arms, sobbing and constantly repeating how much she was glad to see him. Charlie, with the biggest grin I had never seen on his face, was hugging his mother and stroking her hair, telling her he would stay in England during all the holidays. Knowing her son wouldn’t vanish soon, Mrs Weasley finally moved to Bill, then to Ginny, to Ron, to Fred and finished with George and I. Mr Weasley arrived soon after we all entered the house and seemed quite shocked, like his wife. Like her, he pulled Charlie into a strong embrace, though shorter, and welcomed everyone. 
“Who do I have to thank for this beautiful surprise?” Mrs Weasley’s voice was still emotional.
“I think the one you can kill with your hugs is Y/N, mum.” Ron responded. “Even if we had to drag her and George out of bed.” He added, much to Fred’s amusement. 
Mrs Weasley practically ran to me and engulfed me in one of her famous hugs. I could feel her tears on my skin, and she apologized about a hundred times before I could stop her. 
“You don’t have to apologize, Mrs Weasley, it’s a pleasure to see you that happy.”
Everyone was gathered in the living-room, chatting happily. Charlie was telling his father the story about the Hungarian Horntail he had told us before, and Ron and Ginny were also listening to him. Fred and George were showing Bill some new product they kept in their old room. The only one silent was Mrs Weasley, and, when I saw a single tear on her cheek while she was rushing to the kitchen, I knew it wasn't a tear of joy. I joined her and found her sobbing. I sat next to her and silently passed my arm around her shoulders. I knew what was bothering her. 
“I’m sorry.” My voice was quiet. 
I didn’t want to tell her why Percy wasn’t here. She would probably run to London, begging him to talk to her and ensuring him they didn’t hate him. However, I didn’t want her to think her son hated her either. I decided to tell her the truth. 
“Mrs Weasley, I… I went to see Percy at the Ministry.”
Her reaction was immediate. She squealed and looked up to me with teary eyes. 
“He doesn’t hate you” I spoke softly. “He’s afraid, Mrs Weasley, afraid that his father would hate him. He’s sorry.” I added, even if he hadn’t told it explicitly. 
She nodded, sighed, and started to prepare the lunch for everyone. I helped her and, after a while cooking silently, George’s worried voice echoed in the house. 
“Y/N, where are you?” 
“In the kitchen” I replied, not without hearing Ron chuckling to Fred’s answer (“Your boy wants to cuddle, kiddo!”)
George went to check on me and sent me a questioning look. I shook slightly my head, and he understood I would tell him later. He joined Fred in the living-room without telling a word. 
“Why did you do that, Y/N?” 
Mrs Weasley’s voice was calm. She was obviously curious, because she stopped what she was doing, waiting for my answer. I suddenly found myself very uncomfortable, because we wanted to wait for the night to fall to announce my pregnancy with the fireworks. We thought it would be better. I avoided her eyes and responded quickly.
“I just thought you would be happy.”
She seemed suspicious but didn’t tell anything. We finished while chatting about a lot of things and everyone reunited around the table. The lunch was a typical Weasley lunch: loud, full of laughters and absolutely delicious. The good old habits were slowly re-emerging: Mrs Weasley was complaining about Bill and Charlie’s hair length and Mr Weasley was babbling with Ron about some muggle objects. Ginny was laughing at Fred while he was trying to turn a chicken wing into something more entertaining. George was holding my hand under the table, just like he used to when we were younger. 
“It was a wonderful idea, baby.” He murmured into my ear. “Look how they’re all so happy, and we didn’t even tell them the good new yet.” 
The afternoon was honestly one of the best I had in months. After eating, we installed ourselves in the living-room. I sat on George’s lap while Ginny was complaining about the Slug Club. Then Ron proposed to play Wizard’s chess, and a true tournament was organized. It reminded me a bit of Percy, because playing chess was something I did with him during the holidays. Ron was the undisputed winner. During the following hour, each one went about their occupation. 
George and I went into the twins’ old room and cuddled in my boyfriend’s bed. He immediately put his hands on my belly and sighed in satisfaction. He had been unable to do that since Bill’s arrival and it was pleasant to feel his hands again. But George seemed to have missed our baby more than I thought: he slowly lied me in the bed and kneeled next to me. He slowly pulled up my shirt. He kissed lovingly my belly, murmuring some sweet things to the baby. 
“I love you so much, little one.” His voice was low, his eyes full of pure love. “I love you both so much. I can’t wait to finally meet you.” 
My eyes were filling with tears in front of this beautiful scene. He seemed so happy, at this moment, so genuinely happy that my heart seemed to be ready to explode. He slowly came back in the bed and kissed me. Moments that emotional were rare, and I knew George wasn’t really comfortable with opening up like this. That’s why he started to tickle me, my giggles getting louder and louder as he continued. I was almost crying when we stopped, a soft knock on the door being heard. It opened and Fred’s face was on the opening. 
“The night is falling, lovebirds.”
We followed him downstairs. Everyone was gathered in the living-room, but soon Fred was nowhere to see. Outside, the sky was turning bright red as the moon started to show itself. A loud noise disturbed the peaceful silence and everyone hurried outside, almost as if they were waiting for something like that to happen. 
The sky stayed empty for a few seconds. It was as if the purpose of the noise was to make everyone go outside. Then the real show started.
At first, the space in front of the family was coloured in blue and pink with plenty of pretty little explosions. It looked like flowers. When these first fireworks disappeared, others were thrown and wrote a sentence in the air. 
George and Y/N have a surprise for you!
All eyes turned towards us. George sent his family a bright smile and his grip on my hand tightened. When other fireworks exploded, no sentence was needed and everyone understood perfectly. It was a pretty good representation of George and I. The firework-George was behind the firework-me and both had in their hands a baby. Below this pretty portrait of our future family was written:
We're going to be parents!
While it was fading, a big orange W, the inimitable signature of the twins, appeared in the sky with written in yellow:
See you soon baby Weasley!
And the sky was empty. The silence was almost deafening as I was waiting for the reactions of the Weasley, and most particularly for Mrs Weasley's one. I was also tearing up because what Fred just offered us, it was… It was perfect. He showed up, a huge grin on his lips. The other Weasley were still silent, probably trying to process what they just saw. Ginny was the first one to squeal happily as she threw herself in my arms. 
“I’m gonna be an aunt!”
From this point, everything became a blur where I could just distinguish the congratulations. George never released his grip on my hand. However, despite everyone’s kind words, I couldn’t stop to look anxiously at Mrs Weasley who was still silent. Tears were rolling on her cheeks and when she made a first hesitant step, everyone stopped and watched her. Then she ran towards George and I and took us into a bear hug, our heads colliding in the process. She was sobbing and muttering something that seemed like “I’m too young to be a grandmother” but when she looked at us, her eyes showed her happiness and her pride. 
“I’m genuinely happy that you have decided to start a family. I still think you are too young but… I know you’re made for each other. Congratulations!” 
Her voice was still a bit trembling. We all went back to the living-room because it was starting to get cold outside. Mrs Weasley looked like she wanted to talk to us alone, but we had something to do before that. I spotted Fred and jumped into his embrace, sobbing like Mrs Weasley a few minutes ago. 
“Fred, it was… It was… It was perfect! Thank you so much! Thank you Freddie!”
He laughed and ruffled my hair. 
“Anytime kiddo. I can’t wait to see the little one.” 
When I finally agreed to let him go, George took my place and pulled his twin into a hug. 
“You don’t know how much it means to me what you did, mate… Thank you.”
“I know George, I know… You’re gonna be a great father.” Responded Fred while patting his brother’s shoulder. 
“And you a great godfather.” Replied George with an emotional voice.
“Godfather?” Fred looked like he couldn’t believe it, but a sparkle in his eyes showed how much he was touched. 
“Of course you silly, I would have asked Hagrid but he’s too far right now.”
“Hagrid? You’re disappointing me brother, I was sure you would have chosen McGonagall.”
  As laughter erupted in the living room, Mrs Weasley took my hand and led me into the kitchen. We were now alone, and she sat next to me. 
“Are you mad?” My voice was trembling. 
“No dear, I’m not mad.” She answered sweetly. “But I’m worried.”
“Me too.” I confessed. Seeing her interrogative look, I explained to her my insomnias. “I always think about this war. What if George is killed? What if I’m killed? Who- who would take care of our baby if we weren’t here anymore? What kind of life can I offer to my child with all this darkness in our world?”
Mrs Weasley listened to all my questions, all my uncertainties, all my worries without saying anything. She was just holding my hand, allowing me to know she would always be there. When I was finished and waiting for her answer, I was half-sobbing. Her answer was short and her voice was sweet.
“Everything will be okay, dear, because George and you have a family who’s gonna protect you at all costs. I promise you that you will be able to raise your baby with George. You hear me? I promise.”
I nodded slowly. But I had other worried, way more normal for a pregnant woman. I felt like I could confess these things to Mrs Weasley, after all, she had always done the job my mother should have been able to do with me. She had answered all my questions, she had helped me. 
“Does it hurt?” 
I felt quite ashamed to ask such a thing, but I wanted to know. 
“Giving birth? Yes darling, it hurts like hell. But when you have your baby against you… All the pain vanishes. It’s the beginning of a wonderful story.” Her eyes were a bit teary because of the memories. 
“What if I’m not a good mother?” As I expressed my worst fear, Mrs Weasley took firmly my hand and put her other one on my cheek. 
“The fact that you’re already worrying shows that you’re gonna be a wonderful mother, Y/N.”
With that, we headed back to the living-room, where George was telling how we found out about my pregnancy. He was already at the pillow part, but Mrs Weasley wanted to hear all the story. 
“Y/N hadn’t thrown enough pillows at Fred’s face and he found it suspicious.” Ginny summed up the story. 
Her mother seemed confused. As everyone laughed at her furrowed eyebrows, George went to me and kissed me.
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woman-loving · 4 years
Text
A History of US Bear Subculture
Selection from “A Concise History of Self-Identifying Bears,” by Les Wright, published in The Bear Book: Readings in the History and Evolution of a Gay Male Subculture, edited by Les Wright, 1997.
Roots In his 1991 introduction to The Bear Cult: Photography by Chris Nelson,[1] Edward Lucie-Smith attributes iconographic sources of bears to the 1950s gladiator movies starring bodybuilder Steve Reeves. Gay “physique studios” of the time reflected the predominant fashion of closely shaven faces and bodies. “Old Reliable,” a Los Angeles-based photographer of homoerotic wrestling, specialized in “natural” men, soliciting hustlers, punks, ex-cons, and other truly “rough trade” types off the streets (from the 1950s-1990s) to pose for his camera. Old Reliable’s models were street-smart scrappers, perhaps shabby, perhaps defiant, unquestionably blue-collar, or lower, class. A fat cigar in one hand and the middle finger of the other hand thrust into the camera’s face is the signature pose for Old Reliable’s models. John Rechy’s novels, especially 1963 best-seller City of the Night, serve as a record of gay male engenderment of this particular type in the urban subcultures of the late 1950s and 1960s.
Another informant, living in the Miami, Florida area during the 1970s, reports that when he first started coming out into the bar scene in his mid-twenties he encountered a cluster of “bears” that congregated in the Tool Room, a back bar area of Warehouse VIII, a “disco place.”
“[i]n the meantime, some counter-culture tabloid I read occasionally ran a cryptic personal ad for a Bears party, which would gather at a men’s bar called The Ramrod on a particular evening and time, so I bit. Not knowing the bar’s whereabouts, then learning the address and trying to find the unmarked place in the downtown darkness, I was late but not too late. A dozen of so men with beards, most of them husky, were piling out of the bar door as I was walking in. Two of them grabbed me by each arm, and one said “Great! You’re the even number!” Now I was just in the first stages of coming out, even to myself, but I let myself get swept away (with an alarmed smile on my face). I thought I was headed for my first orgy (gay or straight), but it turned out to be a real party at a home on one of the causeway islands between Miami and Miami Beach. Real men having a hell of a good time without a woman in sight. Imagine!! We watched the second half of the Dolphins game, played some cards, then sat outside under the moonlight, slowly pairing off and disappearing back indoors or off into tropical hiding places behind the patio.
I was out. I started hanging out regularly at the Ramrod, where any bearded local was greeted as “Hey, Brother Bear!” I checked out The Rack, a leather saloon, but the bear camaraderie was not present. A few Rack regulars were good-looking, beefy, bearded guys, but their bikes and image were their focus, not the bears among them. The bears continued to patronize the Ramrod and the Tool Room, or a larger bar in Fort Lauderdale called Tacky’s, but could be found in lots of neighborhood bars, too, like The Hamlet and The Everglades. Not only did we refer to ourselves as bears, but the term caught on among non-bears too.
It was too early in beardom, I guess, to have a Bears club or organization of any kind. Nobody thought of it. There were spontaneous parties arranged by word-of-mouth, picnics, beach volleyball. We even loaded three vans full of bears and invaded Key West.
You might think of Florida as an unlikely place to find bears, but bearded men were very common there in the 60s and 70s. When the disco era streamrollered fashion for straight and queer alike, it became less common. Many bears kept our beards, many left only a moustache. The Ramrod faltered and closed, 13 Buttons and The Copa flourished, as did all the big discos of the day. I became more private whit three bear affairs over five years, then finally met a cowboy in New Orleans on Mardi Gras and left Florida forever. We moved to Colorado in 1981 and had five great years together. I've been in Denver since 1986 and was later a founding member of one of the oldest bear clubs in the country, Front Range Bears.
But that’s another story.”[2]
Larry Reams has unearthed the first documented apparent uses of “bear” in the current sense. He has found among records of the Los Angeles-based Satyrs’ MC club the formation of a “bear” club mentioned in two entries from 1966.[3] Another source cites anecdotally a group of lovers of a “Papa Bear” in Dallas, Texas, as the start of the “bear community” “well before 1975.”[4] Several undocumented sources have related similar anecdotes of private circle or bar circles of self-identifying bears.
The first published description of gay “bears” appeared in a whimsical article called “Who’s Who in the Zoo: A Glossary of Gay Animals,” penned by George Mazzei in the Advocate, July 26, 1979. Larry Reams reports that he and his friend, the author,
“were standing in Griffs’, a Los Angeles leather bar, one evening discussing the types of men we were and those to whom we were attracted. We decided we were Bears and continued on to formulate what we thought constitutes a Bear. Once we had described Bears it was an easy step to look around the bar and create the rest of the article.”[5]
Because the type so strongly suggests aspects of both bear attitude and bear image, it is worth quoting in its entirety:
“Bears are usually hunky, chunky types reminiscent of railroad engineers and former football greats. They have larger chests and bellies than average, and notably muscular legs. Some Italian-American Bears, however, are leaner and smaller; it’s attitude that makes a Bear.
General Characteristics: Hair. Their tangled bears often present no discernible place to insert a comb. Laughter. Bears laugh a lot and are generally good natured. They make wonderful companions since they are prone to reach for the check, buy the next round and keep abreast of when the Trocadero is dancing this season. Their good humor can turn threatening if you attempt to cruise their trick and you will hear about if for weeks afterward. [...]”
Jack Fritscher was creating and documenting a similar impulse in San Francisco contemporaneous to this Los Angeles subculture. Those pre-AIDS years in the Castro and South-of-Market subculture are documented in the roman à clef Some Dance to Remember. Recorded in the novel is an account of Fritscher’s short-lived underground magazine called Man2Man, a direct precursor to the first incarnation of BEAR magazine. The “homomasculinity” of Fritscher’s philosophical quest was summed up in the magazine’s subtitle: “What you’re looking for is looking for you!”
First-Wave Bears of the Zeitgeist, 1986-1989
The energy that called itself “bear” appeared as one of the signs of reemerging gay communal life following the arrival of AIDS in the 1980s. After several years in a state of shock, emotional devastation, eating more, perhaps exercising less, continuing to age, and ready for a somewhat slower and more compassionate pace of gay sex and gay social life, “hibernating” clones, leathermen, and many other self-identifying types came back to gay public spheres as “bears.” AIDS led many of us to put on extra padding and to eroticize (or publicly admit to our erotic desire for) male bulk. Feminists, such as Andrea Dworkin and Mary Daly, had articulated the mechanisms of patriarchal/capitalist subjugation through the “beauty myth.” The tyranny of the “Castro (or Christopher) Street clone” had been breached.
Since the late 1970s, in counterpoint to the “endless party” spirit of gay life, increasing numbers of gay men were burning out on the alcohol and recreational drugs. Alcoholism has been, and remains, a serious problem in the gay community. The drug experimentation of the “love generation” had turned into a nightmare before AIDS arrived. Now, for the first time, many were experiencing another sense of self, a “sober self,” a discovery of self-respect, which allowed them to bring to a halt these self-destructive behaviors. Across the country sobriety became not only fashionable, but even “politically correct.” Discussion of the uses and misuses of the principles of Alcoholics Anonymous belongs elsewhere. Relevant to bears is the rise of self-esteem among gays--whether through sexual “liberation” or adoption of cultural norms of the moment.
The self-empowerment movements of the 1970s, the nurturance and “safe space” strategies of 1970s feminism, the ever greener alternative impulses of rural gays, Radical Faeries, and nongay-identifing men-loving men (as disseminated, for example, through RFD magazine), and the fundamental strategy of Stonewall politics--coming out--prepared the way. For gay men, who had come out as gay, as sober, as HIV positive, as leathermen, it would seem “natural” to come out--yet again--as a bear. On the one hand, Stonewall-era identity politics shaped the Zeitgeist. On the other hand, for many men-loving men who did not identify with any of the images of gay men in the gay press or with (usually) urban gay men they had encountered on trips to a city, their first encounter with the idea or an embodiment of a “bear” would strike pay dirt. Many have reported immediate identification, sometimes after years or decade of not “fitting in.” Twelve-stepping and two-stepping were new venues for socializing, for being in community without an explicit exhortation to sex. It gave us another chance, a utopian moment, in which to reinvent ourselves and our community.
“Bears” have been emerging as successor to the “clone” and as transmutated variant of “leatherman,” as an integration into gay mainstream social life of “girth-and-mirthers.” In many ways, it was a humanizing response to what clones had been. Martin P. Levine, in his study “The Life and Death of Gay Clones,” focuses on the urban enclave of West Village clones (Manhattan), noting that “AIDS, gay liberation, male gender roles, and the ethics of self-fulfillment, constraint, and commitment”[7] were the sociocultural shapers, creating and destroying this gay male subculture. Bears, during the 1980s, represented a break with the competitive and objectifying tendencies which had alienated so many Stonewall-era gay men. Bears continued the tradition of masculine identification, the social identity politics of gay liberation, and basic Enlightenment values of equality, self-determination, and self-fulfillment. Bears sought to ameliorate between socially isolating cliques and creating safe social spaces, comingling social and sexual spheres, merging rough, unkempt masculine iconography with the emotional nurturing lacking in the clone subculture and the caretaking many gay men felt called to as a direct result of the AIDS epidemic.
The point of titration came in 1987. The “Bear Hugs” parties, the advent of BEAR magazine, and developments in electronic communications were the catalysts that sparked the concept of the self-aware, self-identifying bear across communities. First, computer bulletin boards and then listservres and moderated mailing lists made communications instantaneous and were collectively dubbed “cybearspace.” All three significant events took place or are tracable back to San Fransisco, independent each other but with an unexpectedly synergistic effect all together. All three represented, each in its own way, a “safe space” for bears.
Play Parties A group of friends began organizing private “play parties” in Berkeley and San Francisco in 1987, as safe and warm gatherings--social and sexual for their friends and friends of friends. Private, invitation-only “jack-off circles” became popular during the AIDS sexual freeze, but these were an alternative social and sexual space for gay men who felt “left out”--out because they did not fit, or felt like they did not fit, the gay media images of “beauty”--young, tanned, smooth-skinned, blond LA surfer boy “twinks.” Their “difference” was both physical and perceptual, and was expressed through a social and sexual inclusiveness--men in their thirties, forties, and fifties, ranging from slender to stocky to chubby (though generally on the heavier side), usually with beards and perhaps body hair, and from a range of social classes. The common mold was a warm, nurturing, affectionate attitude toward each other. The intimacy of the early days changed, however, when the gatherings grew to over 100. By 1989, a larger space and a more formalized “guest list” became necessary.
This San Francisco group was the spawning ground for several later developments. Among them were Bear Fax Enterprises, a business privately owned by Ben Bruner and Bill Martin. The International Bear Expo, which ran for three years in San Francisco (1992, 1993, and 1994), the effort of dozens of local bears, was overseen by a steering committee, many of whom later founded the Bears of San Francisco and the International Bear Rendezvous. The “International Mr. Bear” competition and title were introduced at Expo ‘92; John Caldera, the first title holder, eventually acquired ownership of the tile, and the contest has been held annually ever since.
“Bear soup” became a widely adopted idea. In many places it refers specially to hot tub parties, though often with the implication of an orgy or private sexual pairings later in the evening. Sometimes “bear soup” seems to refer merely to a crowded space full of bears. The Bear Hugs group in Great Britain is a strictly social organization.
Similar groups, such as the OzBears of Sydney, Australia, and the Bear Cave parties in Manhattan, had started up for purposes of private socializing, and formed the basis of new groups that developed into bear clubs dedicated to social activities or even community work. As organized bear clubs have arisen and sex clubs started advertising a weekly “bear night,” these play parties have all but disappeared.
BEAR Magazine At about the same time, Bart Thomas began putting together a small, photocopied underground magazine he called BEAR . The magazine was, at first, local to San Francisco. It consisted of jack-off photos and personal ads. The reader could send in appropriate photos of himself or stop by the BEAR office and pose for the magazine. In some ways, BEAR may be seen as the direct successor of Jack Fritscher’s Man2Man underground magazine of nearly a decade before. Before he could actually launch the magazine, Thomas succumbed to complications form AIDS, but not before passing the torch to his friend Richard Bulger.
Bulger’s vision of a lifestyle magazine, articulating this masculinity, with a leftist sexual political slant, and embedded anthropological underpinnings, not to wax abstractly, but to act, to embody the principles through practice and a level of discourse clear to any blue-collar man. In a few years’ time the magazine expanded in size and status, and from word-of-mouth circulation to international commercial distribution, with a full line of videotapes, photo sets, and accessories.
In this 1993 study of BEAR magazine, Joe Policarpio describes the dual aspects of image and attitude stressed by publisher Richard Bulger through his choice of models and editorial content. The general profile of a “bear” includes at least some facial hair and some body hair (”usually the more the better”), a “musky animality,” a blend of traditionally masculine aggressiveness and (feminine) desire to cuddle, muscles by Nautilus or physical labor, and a tendency to be older than the models found in most other gay male porn magazines. “The most important point is these men are presented as fitting an ideological pattern the magazine espouses. This is one of freewheeling, playful and positive attitude toward sexuality between men. He is comfortable in his body and exudes a sense of self-assurance.”[8]
Because of personal ties, BEAR magazine was from the start intimately connected with the South-of-Market bar scene. The original Lone Star Saloon was the first “bear bar,” and followed the tradition of the Ambush and the Balcony, both of which had gone out of business early in the AIDS epidemic. These “sleaze bars” all developed an international reputation. They all offered a free-spirited, anarchic, anything-goes ambience, drawing in blue-collar types who disdained the middle-class pretensions of mainstream gay culture, those who sensibility combined social rough edges with the loyalty ethic of the American lower classes, and misfits, eccentrics, and other “rugged individual” types historically drawn to frontier towns and their saloons.
“Cybearspace” Direct electronic communications over the Internet developed and proliferated during the 1980s and 1990s. Word-of-mouth knowledge of bears spread very rapidly across the Internet. The preponderance of bears on-line or in computer fields is traceable back, in part, to this. One of the most often used private or personal uses of the Internet, regardless of sexual orientation, is for communications of a sexual nature. The lines of communication are numerous and diverse: live chat lines (IRC), BBS (electronic bulletin boards), unmoderated (echoed) an moderated mailing lists, websites, CU See ME (live video transmission), and e-mail. Altogether an individual can transmit or receive text, images (such as gif or jpeg), sound, and video images (nearly) instantaneously. The Internet allows for establishing and maintaining contact anonymously, for uncensored communication, for the exchange of visual images (yourself, your friends, your favorite sexual icon), and for echoed messages (broadcasting to all subscribers of a mailing list of a global mailing to everyone in your e-mail address book). Certain mediums (such as the IRC) can guarantee anonymity (no clues as to personal identity or physical appearance). The question of subverting prejudgment on the basis of appearance becomes moot, however, when we consider the proliferation of visual mediums, such as webpages, archived gif and jpegs, or CU SeeMe, which permit blatant self-advertising based on one’s appearance without revealing one’s name or location.
Early on, circa 1985-1988, there were several bear-dedicated bulletin boards, such as the PC Bear’s Lair (sysop Les Kooyman). The bearcave chat room on the IRC has been a very popular site in cybearspace for live conversation. While the option of remaining anonymous is always available (everyone uses a “handle,” or pseudonym), cyber-communities have evolved over time. This may range from sexual encounters to personal friendships to life partners.
By far the most popular cybearspace is the Bears Mailing List, or BML. Founded by Steve Dyer and Brian Gollum in 1988, it grew from a small, friendly, safe-feeling cybergathering of several dozen bears to a heavily subscribed, largely anonymous, and often fractious, moderated exchange of over 3,000 subscribers. Since 1995 Henry Mensch and Roger Klorese have been moderating the BML and introducing changes to accommodate the dramatic shift in tenor and purpose of the list. Subscribers are drawn from all fifty states and several dozen nations worldwide. English is the lingua franca although everything, including whether to have and who should determine a common language (and how), has been brought up for discussion. Bob Donahue’s somewhat tongue-in-cheek rough guide to “bear codes,” which was accessible from the BML archives, is the source of subspecies terminology within the bear community, such a cub, otter, behr, and the like. Numerous individuals have taken the code in all seriousness and this has become a source of contention, quoted by both sides in disputes over what is a “real” bear. [...]
Although not the only cybear group to do so, the BML has staged several informal, in-person gatherings of its subscribers  During Stonewall 25 in New York City, for example, some sixty to seventy BMLers gathered at Bethesda Fountain in Central Park on the day before the parade. Consensus determined the group should form a spontaneous contingent and march in the parade. And thus on Sunday, Stonewall 25 included a sizable contingent of mostly bearded, bearish-appearing gay men from all across the country and from abroad.
Second Wave: formalizing, 1989-1994
Bear Clubs As the concept of bear circulated between gay communities across the country and “news of recent developments in the gay capital” was drawing more comers to San Francisco, localized efforts to promote and organize bears appeared everywhere. The Bear Paws of Iowa, co-founded by Dave Annis and Larry Toothman in 1989, was the first bear club. By 1992, Bear Expo organizers were aware of four such clubs. Two years later, there were forty. According to the International Directory of Bear Organizations, maintained by The Tidewater Bears (Virginia), as of January 1996, there were 137 bear clubs or explicitly bear-friendly (girth-and-mirth and leather) clubs worldwide.
Bear clubs have generally followed along the lines of their older cousins, the lather motorcycle clubs. In some places this means an informal club that schedules periodic social events. In other places, this has translated into a great deal of fundraising and gay community civic activities. As the club model has gained wider acceptance, it has drawn long-standing problems endemic throughout the gay community into its sphere.
A formal club membership structures creates automatically an insider/outsider division, even if membership is “open to all” (usually defined as “bears and their admires”). Having a club also invites quibbling over definitions of who is a “real” bear. (This is borne out by regional differences, whether emphasis has been placed on body hair, on body weight, or on “attitude,” though a beard or moustache seems to be universally required). Clubs and organizers of events, such as the OctoBearFest (Denver), Orlando Bear Bust, Bear Pride (Chicago), European Big Men’s Conference, or the International Bear Rendezvous (San Francisco) have created bear contests, which engenders the very hierarchical system the earlier bear impulse had been resisting.
Finally, the disjunctive ideals of bears as working-class masculinity and bears as an increasingly distinct subculture within mainstream gay culture bring into sharp relief the larger issues of gay community. If bears began in a spirit of inclusiveness and egalitarian-mindedness, sex positive and relatively “anti-looks-ist,” then what is to be made of the increasingly conformist, consumerist, competitiveness that has take over? As the idea of bears has spread, the opportunities to travel far and wide, to purchase ever more and ever more costly bearphernalia, to update an expand one’s computer sources are generating another, unanticipated dividing line-between bear haves and bear have-nots. to what extent does having money now calculate into the formulas of who is a “real” bear?
Expanded Print Media As BEAR magazine rapidly grew in format, production values, and circulation, reception among gay mainstream media remained very lower. The first published serious essay on bears was a piece I wrote in 1989. It appeared in its entirety in Seattle Gay News, an abbreviated version in the San Francisco Sentinel, and Drummer magazine carried the “Sociology of the Urban Bear” as the first bear cover story in 1990. (It was reprinted in Classic Bear, February 1996.)
What became known as bear types had been featured, in one way or another, in RFD (rural), in Chiron Rising (”mature”), in leather/SM-oriented, and girth-and-mirth publications. Numerous niche-crossover magazines sprang up in the early 1990s--Bulk Male, The Big Ad, Husky, Daddy, Daddybear, GRUF. Bearish models began staring back at the reader from the pages of Advocate Men, Honcho, In Touch, and other gay mainstream glossies. BEAR magazine’s direct competitor American Bear, published by Tim Martin (Louisville, KY) took advantage of a lacuna left by BEAR magazine’s retreat from Bulger’s philosophical lifestyle magazine publishing. With the establishment of the bear icon in the gay community and the world of mainstream-gay print advertising, gay bears had become a local presence everywhere (not just in San Fransisco). And with interests, at least sometimes, beyond immediate sexual gratification, this translated into new niche markets. While American Bear Features a regular column on dissonant (HIV-positive/negative) couples (Bulger adamantly refused to mention AIDS in his magazine), a how-to column on accessing the Internet, and other features, none of the bear magazines have attained Playboy-calibre intellectual content.
In the early 1990s “bear war” broke out when Bulger, then owner-publisher of BEAR, sought to gain sole ownership of the word “bear” as his company’s trademark. Needless to say, this led to a lot of bad feelings and was widely followed and criticized in cybearspace. The Advocate even mentioned it in print. At the time, the Bear Hug group’s informal newsletter the Bear Fax had been expanded into a full-fledged magazine by Bill Martin. The lingering legacy of this “war” was a schism, based on a difference in basic body types typically portrayed in each magazine, between “fat bears” and “skinny bears.” Since this time, personals ads have proven far more profitable, and the bulk of the magazine currently consisted of personals ads, photo spreads, and commercial advertising.[9] The magazine was sold to Bear-Dog Hoffman in 1994 and is currently under Joseph Bean’s editorship. It is not clear which direction the magazine will go. It is clear that BEAR is the voice of authority in matters of bear community and sensibility.
Print media as gone a long way in generating a prototypical bear icon--full-bearded, fairly to very hairy, beefy to chunky GWM baby-boomer, probably of Irish, Jewish, Italian, Scandinavian, or Armenian heritage. In reality, the question of race, presence or absence of body hair, body build, social class, or outlook on life is anything but so neatly compartmentalized. BEAR magazine introduced the serious photographic work of Chris Nelson (as Brahman Studio) and Steve Sutton (who succumbed to complications from AIDS in 1994). Lynn Ludwig has established himself as the documenter of the San Francisco bear community. And, perhaps, the most gifted photographer of bears is Los Angeles-based John Rand, whose work is included in this book.
Bear Contests The bear calendar includes many regional gatherings, as mentioned above, as well as annual bear contests as the local club level. The highlight of such events is often the bear content. As Lurch, a popular bear icon, stand-up comic, TV actor, and psychiatric nurse, has put it, “I prefer to say ‘titleholder.’ ‘Winner’ implies ‘losers,’ and none of us are losers.”[10] Successful bear contest titleholders may be expected to organize or work a number of fund-raisers, go on public speaking engagements and represent their hometown or club on the road. In other places, the local bear club may be one of the few, or even the only social outlet, and merely being a known presence in the local community is the extent of the titleholder’s “duties.”
The emergence of bear contents has tended to straddle the fence between two sides--parodying traditional gay ideals of beauty while striving to establish a new, legitimate bear ideal. The International Mr. Bear contest, a component part of the San Francisco-based International Bear Expo, evolved in its first three year from poking somewhat self-conscious fun at traditional gay values to striving in an increasingly serious manner to project an image of a self-confident bear ideal, a new icon assuming its place among the archetypes of male beauty. From the beginning there has been an emphasis on personal warmth, a compassionate nature, civic-mindedness in the gay community, and spiritual playfulness. Titleholders John Caldera (IMB ‘92) and Steve Heyl (IMB ‘93) worked hard during their “reign,” and have remained genuinely and deeply committed to the bear community. Yet, in the progression of titleholders and the proliferation of bear contests in recent years, here has been an increasing tendency toward consolidating a bear image, and away from qualities intangible or at least invisible to the camera.
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dandyvespa · 4 years
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I-Land Final Episode and Thoughts *SPOILERS! duh*
For anyone who has kept up with I-Land, I understand how emotional and nerve-wracking this episode was for them.  After developing a connection with a lot of the participants and sharing in their memories, its hard to see anyone being let go.  It has been just as much of journey for them as it was for the fans who supported them and at the end of the day, regardless of who debuts, there will be people who will be disappointed by the final results.  But please please PLEASE understand that you should not put the blame on them or even break them down just because your favorite did not make it.  All of these boys worked hard to get where they are and though it stings for those who did not make it, please support whatever flower path any of them have taken and continue to support and spread love.  With that being said, I would just like to use the rest of this post on my final thoughts on the episode and debut line.  If you are caught up with the show, please read ahead.  Thank you :)
First I would like to say that the preparations done for the final performance, the OT22 interaction and performance, the funny bits of preparing PR videos, dividing roles, and playing Truth or Dare, and the home-cooked meals sent from their parents were all just an emotional roller coaster.  I laughed and I cried.  To see those boys grow was something very special to me and to see their individual selves shine through personalities or skills were always a treat.  Having these segments were really meant to lighten the mood for the final lineup to come.  Personally, Sunghoon developed the most out of his shy exterior and his personality was so confident and funny in the pre-recorded videos.  I also thought Jay... could never escape his dark history LOL.   Also Heeseung’s brother teasing him and telling him to tell Jay he adores him was very cute.  Seeing everyone help each other with the PR videos was adorable and heart-warming (Heeseung even had a whole production team haha).  Jungwon dressed up as a sheep still sticks with me though haha.  Seeing OT22 come together also had me in tears and stitches.  It was so cute seeing them all hang out in I-land and despite how whack it was for the Grounders to never experience it, they looked so happy being with their friends and taking part in this little world even if it was for a short time. Also loved how they would easily throw others under the bus during Truth or Dare and the Questions they voted on.  The love and support their parents got and how each of them could not hold back their tears was really the icing on the cake.  No matter where these boys go, their family will always be their for them more than anything else.  Just all those moments leading up to their debut lineup really put a toll on me and it just made me feel like a proud mom
Okay the team name?  I am sooooooooooo glad its not Dragon Gee or Dee or whatever that speculated name was going around on Twitter.  Enhypen is odd but in a good way.   Its different and it will stick with time even though I still may just call them the I-Land group for now lol.  Pretty curious about what the fandom name will be too (but honestly I think I would still call myself an Eggie haha).
TXT and BTS’s presence was neat.  I wish more of the TXT member’s got to speak but having them all physically there was nice.  Though I will say it was just awkward not seeing them cheer as much.  I also felt like BTS was just bored at some points or were just glazing over when having to wait on each member getting called out.  They did have their humorous moments which was nice to see, definitely lifted the tension in the room and I’m glad they joked a bit (especially Suga losing it lol) instead of remaining completely serious.  Their advice and encouragement were all appreciated too.  Jhope being an avid viewer really showed.  Also plus points for Jungwon getting Jungkook’s attention uwu.   I still wish they could have interacted more and mentored some of them over the course of the show.  The slim TXT interactions with Heeseung such as Taehyun and Yeonjun’s reactions made me wanting more damn it.  But hey, at least we get to see them more often in the BigHit building.  I love a good family.
So the Calling performance was A M A Z I N G.  I personally thought they were so coherent as a group and made me wishing OT9.  There were some who really shine in their parts, but I think all of them stood out one or more times to me.  The dance was pretty powerful and a lot of them improved vocally.  Again, it makes me feel like a proud mom seeing them all at this point, grown and amazing.  The Into the I-Land performance also made me feel that way as well.  They all looked so good together and were pretty in sync given that they were fucking 22 of them.  The nostalgia was really hitting in me and I also teared uo like a big ass baby.  But can I just say... and let’s be real here.... Every single song on this show has been a bop and I would be thrilled to see a whole Soundtrack Album for I-Land on Spotify.  Like P L E A S E.
Now onto the debut line! I was S H O C K E D.  You can clearly tell these votes were not rigged in the slightest and this was solely based on global votes always shifting which was appreciated.  I did not see this order coming and it did turn out slightly different then my post on my preferred I-Land debut line.  So starting with number 1.... YANG FUCKING JUNGWON.   I was pleasantly surprised and I literally jumped out of my bed when I heard him place first instead of Sunoo.  This was the complete definition of people who initially slept on him finally waking.  I was soooo thrilled.  Bro really came in last by the last Producer vote and then climbed all the way to first.  Our lovely sheep garden and hidden ace, a big congrats!  
Jay also left his cursed 6th spot and got second! Again another well-deserved man who gave it his all from the beginning and was no stranger to being straightforward and a go getter.  His stubbornness and hilarity will lead this group lol.  
Jake getting third was a big shock as well.  Our icon of improvement!  To think he was always on the verge of getting placed out of the top 7 members and made it here? Also considering his benefit put him in 7th once when he literally could have been the eliminated member that episode.  UGH.  Our Aussie boy did great and seriously improved performance after performance.  
Next up.... NIKIIIIIII.  Now I’m gonna be real I thought it was gonna be K.  I never placed Niki in my debut prediction, but his Flame On performance really change everything for me.  Actually, just the whole second part of I-Land was very impactful for him.  I was always hesitant about his sportsmanship and whether he was too selfish in the first part (the constant evil-editing did not help, Mnet...), but thanks to other members, he really matured and took a greater lead in things.  I really began to fall for him when we got to see him more playful and interactive with other members.  Like I really thought he was much happier and understanding throughout the second half of the show.  So kudos to him!  
Coming in 5th place was Heeseung.  I was actually confused man.  When he was called first at this point, I just knew this global vote line up will be verrrry different.  I was still relieved that he made it and seeing him choke up, this boy who has been going at it the longest among the 9 participants at 3 years to finally debut.... Gosh I could not.  As someone who is also Heeseung biased, I was so so so happy for him.  Think we all know regardless of which place he got, the boy was destined to debut.  My Ace heart feels full ^^.  Go get him Leader!!!
Now 6th place... my Ice Prince... Sunghoon! I was actually the most nervous for him.  I saw so many people saying that Sunghoon was last in votes or was in danger because a lot of people had the mentality that given his popularity they should reserve the votes for the people who would most likely be eliminated.  I think that’s why Heeseung and Sunoo were scored low too.  Now I am also biased towards him.  I was thinking like what would I do if none of my favorite Bighit trainees (Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jungwon) do not make it?  But when he was called to take up the last spot in global voting, I did a back flip (not really but yeah lol).  Given that Sunghoon has never gotten any brutal feedback from the Producers and has always adapted to each concept, he deserved this.  Just everything he has been through... And shifting his life from being an ice skater of 10 years to this path as an idol.... hold up let me get some damn tissues.  May he continue to break out of his shell and show his continuous charms!
Ok the producer choice for 7th place... Again did not see that coming.  Sunoo constantly ranking high in global votes only to be one of the deciding factors was another big surprise.  I have said that Sunoo’s sunshine personality would be needed, especially if the group were to do cute or youthful concepts.  His health had been concerning, but he was able to manage himself so well.  Even with powerful choreo!  He is not really one of the best dancers but he had always been able to do his part.  I really thought the Producers would choose K, but I really thought Bang PD boiled it down to overall skill and personality appeal.  He even claimed that Sunoo would connect best with the world with his joyful outlook.  I honestly could not agree more. I just people do not rail him for being picked as they should now understand he is not just some cute face and has proven that multiple times.  Sunshine Fighting! :)
The eliminated trainees were K and Daniel.  Though I thought Daniel has improved a lot, he was just outshined.  I also think at his age he should have more time spent in sharpening his skills.  What was more devastating was K.  He looked like he was obliterated.  I mean both of them were naturally sad, but K was just gone to me.  I was really hoping that he would make the debut line.  K has shown himself as a performer multiple times and was praised for his choreography skills.  He even showed to have learned from past behaviors and matured more as a person when taking the leader role.  To see him grow and understand where he went wrong.... ugh I really could not bear him looking that way.  His thoughts were all over the place and he could barely choke out what he wanted to say.  I just hope he meant what he said and actually continues to enjoy music and develop himself as a performer.  I knew how much his mom was initially livid at the idea of him becoming an idol so I hope he gets another chance at showing her that he can still do this. Now understand this does not mean you should blame Sunoo for being chosen or complain that Sunoo does not deserve it.  I already feel like he is gonna be haunted with the grim reminder that he was chosen instead and think that he doesn’t deserve this because he is not as skilled as K.  And people are gonna bandwagon hate on him... and again I say please DO NOT DO THAT.  At the end of the day, no matter how much you want OT9 or OT22, this is a survival show and these participants signed up for this.  Yes there will be fans who are disappointed, but you shouldn’t waste your anger on the other trainees who were able to succeed instead of your faves. I don’t want this moment to completely wreck K or Daniel’s chances at being an idol again.  Same goes for rest of the eliminated I-Land members.  This is definitely not the end for any of them so please go on with hope guys because I know you will still have many people’s support!  They will end up on the same stage as their colleagues one day.  
The last thing I want to say is that though this has been a tough journey and though there may be people who will not be satisfied with the debut line, everyone worked hard.  From the participants to the fans and even the Producers, all of them played a special role in making I-Land bearable and exciting to watch.  This is a big congrats to everyone who took part in the show despite having to go through many hardships.  With that being said let us continue to support the futures of the eliminated I-Land members as well as the grand success of Enhypen.  I smell 4th gen leaders :D. Welcome to the BigHit family Enhypen and may your fans, your wings, fly you even higher once you officially debut. F I G H T I N G!
Now... will you guys join in during the next season of I-Land for the next global girl group? :3
.... Ya’ll already know I am lol.
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terrm9 · 4 years
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CHAPTER 3 - Waiting
Keiki was sleeping peacefully in her hospital bed with Sienna, Jackie, Rafael and Elijah surrounding her, waiting for a slightest hint of... something. Rafael couldn't let go of Sienna's hand, not when now, instead of crying, she just kept whispering "it's going to be okay, everything will be just fine, everything must be alright". She was clearly fighting with enormous anxiety and used the positivity so typical for her to deal with the situation. Jackie sat on the chair next to Keiki's head, her head propped on her knees. She was now looking at the ground, finally able to look around the room she was in, but she couldn't bring herself to say a single word. She wanted to badly to snap at Sienna for repeating those stupid words full of hope, she wanted to scream, to make her stop, but she was physically incapable of saying a single 'shut up'. Elijah just stared out of the window, trying to find some sort of distraction on the busy street under the hospital room.
The door suddenly opened and obviously exhausted and uncharacteristically serious Bryce Lahela walked in, the scrubs he was still wearing bringing odd mixture of disinfection and sweat to the room.
"Hey guys. Thanks for staying with Keiki. I met Dr. Mirani on my way here and he said that she suffered from concussion but should be okay within week. I got here as fast as I could."
"How did the surgery go?" Elijah asked nervously.
"Ugh... as well as such surgery can. She is alive."
"What are her chances of actually staying alive?"
It was Jackie, finally able to find her lost voice.
"As for now, I have no idea. Dr. Emery was fantastic, guys you should have seen her, she simply didn't allow Chiara to die on that table. But it was brutal. She has so many injuries, lost such huge amount of blood..."
He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
"It's really bad, isn't it?" Sienna whispered.
"It is really bad, yeah. Dr. Emery told me not to get my hopes up, because the chance of survival or chance of recovery is very low. But she doesn't need to be always right. Very low does not mean none and if there is even glimpse of hope, I simply believe in full recovery. I already got my hopes up, because if someone can get through this, it's Chiara Ray. I mean, she's been through so much shit, in her early life, in her intern year, in her med school and she always, always pulled through and got stronger on the way. She is a fighter and she will fight this. We just have to keep believing in her."
There was a long silence after Bryce's speech, everyone dealing with their emotions on their own. Sienna's cheeks were soaked with silent tears again, Jackie played with hem of her shirt and Elijah just kept staring out on the street.
"I'm gonna get us some hot chocolate," Sienna declared out of nothing
"On the wheelchair?" Rafael raised his eyebrow, looking at her freshly casted leg.
"I need to do something."
"I'm coming with you."
Sienna and Rafael left the room without any other word and Bryce followed her, intending to change into clean set of clothes. Shortly after they left, the door flew open again revealing Aurora furiously walking in.
"What the hell, guys? What happened? I came home after the night shift expecting all of you to be home and the flat was empty! So I tried to reach Chiara, then Sienna, then Jackie and Elijah and none of you responded, so I tought maybe you went to the beach or something. I called my aunt, who is supposed to have three days off and she picks up at last telling me she just got out of the surgery of Dr. Ray? What does this mean? I ran all the way from home."
As Elijah started to fill her in on what happened, Sienna, Rafael and Bryce came back with five cups filled with hot chocolate.
"Ah Aurora, hi! Sorry I didn't know you would come, I'll go for another one," Sienna was about to go get another hot chocolate.
"No need. Just tell me what happened."
Aurora was left speechless when they finished. She grew very fond of Chiara and admired her as a doctor but also as a person. She couldn't imagine her lying on the cold operating table, more dead than alive.
"How about you girls? Sienna, Jackie?"
"We are fine. I have a broken leg, that's all," Sienna answered.
"Oh, I look much worse than I feel. I'll be back to work in a day or two," Jackie said angrily, not wanting to talk about herself at all.
"You think we could go and see her?"
"I don't think they would let us, not now. But when I went to get the chocolate, I talked to Danny and he told me that Dr. Ramsey is staying with her."
They all shared a silent look deciding whether they should talk about Dr. Ramsey or not.
"He really cares about her, right?"
Elijah broken the silence with sincere question.
"Oh he does," Rafael nodded. "I mean, I knew he had a soft spot for her when all it took for her to convince him to play softball was to ask him, but damn this was something different."
"Of course he cares about her. He is her mentor, she is important part of his team. And she saved Dr. Banerji's life."
"I guess he really does respect her for that," Rafael admitted. "But still, this was something else. He was going to lose it in the E.R."
"What happened in the E.R.?"
Aurora and Bryce asked at the same time.
"His whole body was shaking when he heard the news. I didn't know if he was going to punch someone or faint. And when he heard she was in the operating room, he just stormed off."
"She means a lot to many people."
Sienna closed the discussion up with only one sentence and the group remained silent. Every person in the room felt the same heavy feeling on their chest, but somehow sharing their fear has brought some ease into their breathing.
On the other side of the third floor, there was nothing nor someone that could possibly bring ease into Ethan Ramsey's breathing. He was sitting on the wooden chair as close to Chiara as he could get, his hands resting in his lap helplessly, afraid to touch even her finger, scared that he would cause more harm to her. Ethan kept staring at her, failing to swallow the bulge that formed in his throat hours ago. He hated crying. He hated it so much that he learned how not to cry even when needed to. Sitting here next to her, he wished he could just cry. Cry and scream, let some of the emotions out of his system, share them with someone. But the only person he could imagine sharing such grief with was the very same person that made him feel this way in the first place. And so he didn't make a move or a sound, remaining motionless on the chair, his jaw clenched.
 How could I let this happen? If I wasn't such coward, I would start the speech I was preparing myself for and she would never leave the office.
 Damn the speech, I could've just kissed her and she would stay with me.
The thoughts of what if's and what could and should have been were costing him his sanity, but Ethan couldn't just stop thinking. He couldn't forgive himself for losing so much time. For not expressing how he really felt. Oh, he should've done that long time ago, but he was afraid of admitting that he cared for her enough for them to be more than just star crossed lovers. How much he wanted to be with her, to call her his, his Rookie, his Chiara and yet, he couldn't bring himself to talk to her about them, guilt eating him up for being so selfish. He wanted her despite their potential relationship being unprofessional, unethical, so wrong on so many levels. Still, he longed for her.
 She deserves better than me.
He couldn't help but think so, knowing that she expects much more from relationship than he could provide. He could give her his time and attention and physical affection, he would adore her and push her to be the best doctor she could be, but that would never be enough. She needed him to love her the way she loved and he wasn't capable of love. He didn't believe in such thing in the first place. Caring for someone, liking them, wanting to spend their time together, those things made sense to him. But love, love was like hope or faith, there were zero science explanations to back those feelings up. To make them valid. He couldn't tell her he loved her, because he didn't believe in love.
Not like any of that mattered now. He never told her how he felt or how scared he was of ruining her career and her life by wanting to be with her, he never expressed his belief that she should find someone better for herself, someone who would shower her with 'I love you's' every day. He never said a word and now she could die any minute.
Ethan lost track of time or of any outside situation for that matter, therefore Harper's presence in the room took him by surprise.
"Ethan, I need to check in on her, so please leave us. And I think Naveen would like to talk to you before he heads home today."
"What time is it?"
"8 PM."
"Can I come back when you are done with examination?"
He needed Harper to say yes. He couldn't leave her.
"You need to sleep Ethan. What was the last time you slept? Or eaten for that matter?
"I'll sleep when I feel like sleeping. I'm staying with her overnight."
With that he left the room, determined to find Naveen without talking to anybody else.
Dr. Banerji was sitting in his office, waiting for the younger man to come. As the door opened and Ethan entered room, he noticed just how devasted he looked. He hasn't seen him like that ever since his own dying.
"Ethan. Thank you for coming. Can I get you something to eat?"
"I'm not hungry. Thanks, anyway. You wanted to see me?"
"I wanted to check on you, dear boy. I see that this situation drained any life from you and I am concerned."
"I'm just scared okay? And hopeless. So fucking hopeless."
Ethan thought he would lose it now. That the tears would finally come. They didn't.
"I know you are worried about Chiara and I know that you would raise the hell if that would help her. But starving yourself or refusing to sleep will only destroy you too."
"Maybe I want to be destroyed."
"Ethan, don't say that."
"I don't know Naveen. I just... the last time I felt like this, it was when I thought you were dying. But at the time at least I could do something. I ran tests and studied not-so-known illnesses and I tried to save you. Now all I do is sitting on the damn chair and wait for her to wake up or die. It's killing me."
Naveen took Ethan's hand into his own and squeezed it with all the emapthy he had, hoping that the brilliant doctor in front of him could feel that he knew. He knew how Ethan felt about Chiara. He knew how much she meant to him and that it was her who saved his own life, after all. Dr. Ray stood by Ethan's side everytime he faced tragedy and when he needed her, she was there. Naveen knew that very well, without ever needing to talk to Ethan about it.
"I called her mother. She said she would catch the first flight in the morning and should be here by the noon."
Naveen broke the silence with the statement.
"You expect me to talk to her."
Ethan didn't ask, he knew it was true.
"I think it should be you. You know Chiara very well and her mother needs to hear the truth from someone who knows her pain."
"And what exactly the truth is?"
"Oh, Ethan..."
"Okay, I'll talk to her mother. I'll be in the I.C.U. with Chiara."
He left, expecting Harper to be done and without stopping anywhere, he found his way back to the I.C.U. room, spending his sleepless night there.
~
"Mrs. Ray, hello."
Ethan shook hand of the woman in front of him, trying not to stare at her hair. Hair with the same colour as Chiara's.
"Dr. Ramsey, it's nice to finally meet you. Chiara talks about you all the time."
She tried to smile and failed miserabely. Her eyes were puffed from crying and she was holding her purse so firmly as if it was her own dear life she was holding onto.
"Oh?"
"All the good stuff of course. Dr. Emery informed me about the surgery. Now you tell me... and I need the truth... will she get through this?"
At this point, she was crying again and Ethan couldn't help but hug her.
"She is a warrior, Mrs. Ray. I know Chiara very well and she fights whatever comes to her life. Nothing is certain, but I believe in her."
Ethan didn't know if he was trying to convince Chiara's mother or himself.
"I can't lose her too, Dr. Ramsey. Dr. Emery told me the driver that caused him was drunk. Is that so?"
"Yes, it's true. He has some broken ribs and waits for his time in jail."
"Is that some kind of curse?"
Ethan motioned for them to sit down before asking: "What do you mean, curse?"
"Oh, I should have guessed Chiara never told you. She doesn't talk about it and she would never bear the idea of you pitying her. But you already do pity her now, so I can as well go on."
Ethan nodded with his eyebrows high, holding hand of the woman who looked like she needed to throw up.
"Chiara is the oldest of my children. She had younger brother and sister, both adoring her. She was always such a good kid, taking care of her siblings, doing her homework, helping other kids at school. She wanted to apply for med school since forever and her father couldn't be prouder. He supported her every step, not to my delight. Chiara is excellent painter, art is huge part of her and as an artist myself, I always hoped for her to follow my steps. I thought being doctor wouldn't make her happy. But she applied for the med school, got in and I realized that the special spark she holds inside of her is only released when she talks about medicine. When she was in her second year, her father and brother died in a car crash. Drunken driver on the truck crossed the crossroad on the red light... they were both dead immediately. She lost her spark then, nothing could bring it back. But she stuck with the medicine because she wanted to make her dad proud. She finished the school and when she was accepted to her programm here in Edenbrook, that's when her spark returned. I remeber her screaming: 'Mom I'll get to work with Ethan Freaking Ramsey!' I hardly understood what that meant, but the expression she held at the moment was enough for one of my many wounds to heal. And now... now I am losing her too."
She was crying again, leaning against Ethan's chest, as he tried to soothe her pain by hugging her tightly. The bulge in his throat got bigger, even though he didn't consider it possible.
"You're not losing her. She never gives up and she won't give up this time either. I'll be here, Mrs. Ray, I'll take care of her and I promise you, Chiara doesn't die, not on my watch. I am Ethan Freakin' Ramsey after all."
He felt his own strenght coming back at his words. He started to see what Naveen and Harper were saying about him needing to eat and sleep. At some point, Chiara might need him and he needs to be ready to save her. Mrs. Ray managed to create a small smile, wiping her eyes.
"Thank you, Dr. Ramsey. I can't stay here, Alicia - Chiara's sister - needs me back to San Francisco. Just... just promise me to take care of her, okay?"
"Of course. Here, this is my number," he handed her a piece of paper with his quickly written number. "Call me anytime. We will inform you about everything. Now, I'll let you see her for a few minutes, if you want."
~
Two weeks have passed and Dr. Emery stood side by side with Dr. Ramsey, consulting results of Chiara's new CT scan.
"Pretty impressing, I must say. The swelling on her brain is retreating and as far as I can see, there's no evidence of irrevisible damage on the brain. Of course we'll know better if she wakes up."
"When she wakes up," Ethan muttered under his breath, not accepting the possibility of her not waking up.
Harper looked at him with raised eyebrows, but never said a word.
"However, we are far from winning this, but so far, Dr. Ray here convinced me that nothing is ever as hopeless as it seems. With her lungs working on their own completely now, I propose transferring her from the I.C.U. to your wing of the hospital, Dr. Ramsey. As a surgeon, my work is done her for now. Her brain needs to start working and that's your field. She's all yours."
Oh how I wish she was all mine, Ethan tought but didn't say a word. He just nodded and left the I.C.U.
One would say that Ethan Ramsey's life was back to normal. He was back to work, giving interns hard time, reading journals, cracking cases, avoiding people. Looking more tired than usually, his hair longer and more messy, his stubble slowly turning into beard, everyone knew that he wasn't completely okay, but how could he be after all? Little did they know that for the past two weeks, Dr. Ramsey only left hospital once. He slept on the couch in his office every night so that he'd be close in case Chiara's state changes. Little did they know that every time he had some spare time, he'd spend it next to Chiara's bed, looking at her. Naveen's heart was breaking for Ethan's pain. He was probably the only one to notice how much weight Ethan lost, eating two raw bars a day at best.
The very same evening Chiara left I.C.U., all of her friends decided to spend evening in at Donahue's again. Sienna spent last fourteen days at home, not being able to work with a broken leg and Jackie with Elijah came straight home after their shifts. But tonight, they let themselves feel certain bliss of normalcy and met at the bar. Aurora was already waiting for them and Danny decided to join them too.
"Shouldn't Bryce already be here?"
"I'm sure he will come any minute now."
They ordered beer for everyone and tried to talk about work, about their patients, about anything but Chiara's still critical condition. Not too long after their order arrived, Bryce walked in and after long time, he looked like himself, smiling brightly while winking at the group of interns.
"Whoa there, scalpel jockey. Enjoying yourself? Did someone make you feel so cheerful?"
Jackie furrowed her brows at him.
"Oh you better believe someone did," he smirked.
"That's why you are late?"
"Exactly. I needed to check one very particular woman's chest, in case you need details."
"Ugh, no thanks, Lahela."
"I waited for Kyra's surgery results," he rolled his eyes. "I wanted to make sure I got it right before spilling the news."
"Are you saying-"
"Yes! The surgery worked! I mean, she's going to be in so much pain for the next few weeks, but the chances of recovery are amazingly high and the cancer is gone."
Sienna started to cry and even Jackie's eyes shimmered with tears.
"Holy crap, so there are still good news available in this world," Elijah sighed and finished his beer. "We are drinking to that. And we should let Rafael know. He might be on the other side of the States, but he still cares, right? Oh I am actually feeling happy right now. Have you talked to her?"
"I haven't. I thought we should all talk to her together tomorrow, since she still doesn't know about Chiara. I know we needed to protect her before the surgery, but she needs to know now. Will you go with me?"
Everyone nodded, except Aurora who sighed: "I don't think Carrick will let me switch shifts. But you guys say hi from me and tell her that I'll come to see her on Saturday."
"Sure thing."
They ordered another round of beer and for the first time in what felt like forever, they didn't feel the heavy stone on their chest. They felt victory.
Later that night, as the young doctors leaving the bar allowed themselves to laugh at some stupid joke Bryce said, Dr. Ramsey laid on the not so comfortable couch, scotch in his hand, looking at the ceiling above him. He missed her. The sound she would make when she cracked some particularly difficult case. The laugh when she teased him. The smile she saved for him and only for him. He missed even her temper that could drive him crazy at the times. Without giving it a second thought, he unlocked his phone and opened the Pictogram app. He needed to see her with her eyes open. He needed to see her full of life. Clicking at her profile transferred him into completely different world, the one where she laughed on the beach, smiled proudly with diploma in her hand, posed for a selfie with her roommates. He scrolled to the end of her feed and starting to observe the photos from the oldest one to the last one she posted. He swallowed hard when he realized that she posted the photo only few hours before the crash, smiling carelessly into the camera with her friends surrounding her. The photo was clearly taken at the concert they attended. She looked so happy, so relaxed, so very much alive. He just kept looking at the photo, memorizing every single detail about her, imagining she was still there, dancing to music and laughing with people she loved. And there it was. After all, Ethan felt a single tear streaming down his cheek.
~
Days passed in some bizarre blur, summer nights turned into ashy evenings of fall, sun gracing city of Boston with its presence only exceptionally. It was exactly one month since the accident and as the end of his shift arrived, Dr. Ramsey found himself sitting next to Chiara's bed again. It became some kind of bittersweet routine for him to come to her room anytime he could and talk to her about work. Chiara was actually doing good, considering everything. Her lungs worked perfectly, her broken spine was slowly but surely healing. Her brain's swelling was gone now, however the brain itself wasn't working the way it should, putting her into state of coma.
"Mrs. Potter is going home tomorrow, the treatment worked exquisitely. I wish you could see the face of her son when we told him she would be okay. I think even Baz had tears in his eyes when the little boy hugged him."
Ethan realized quite well that what he was doing was stupid and he laughed at himself for being this pathetic. But it helped him keep her sanity, so he came everyday and talked to her about every single patient.
"I almost yelled at Hirata today, though. She asked if I was looking for someone else to take your place at the team. I mean, what the fuck is she thinking?"
Repeating the scene with June Hirata in his head made him wrathful all over again.
"She just kept saying that the team needs the fourth member to work. I told her that we were fine, with Naveen helping us when there's too many difficult cases. But she was really determined and I couldn't listen to her, so I snapped at her, I told her to shut the fuck up. It was... intense. Definitely not my proudest moment but what else could I do? How would I even offer the position? 'Hello, we need a new member for our diagnostics team. The only problem is that we have no idea for how long we can provide the spot for you. Maybe for two weeks, maybe for two years, maybe we'll keep you for good. Nobody knows.' Huh? No one would even accept such position. Listen Rookie. I know I've been telling you the other day that you should take your time and heal, but life is pretty hard without you, so could you wake up? Could you do this one last favor for me and just wake up? Please?"
~
Elijah, Sienna and Jackie were standing next to the nurse station, too deep into the debate to notice someone watching them.
"...what are we going to do? I tried to talk to Farley but he said that he couldn't afford to lose those money. It's been five weeks since the accident which makes two checks. And none of us actually has that much spare money."
"We don't have that much even if we put our savings together."
"Should we call her mum?"
Sienna asked nervously, biting her lip.
"Nope, that poor woman is going through hell. We'll find a way, okay? We could ask Aurora."
"Mass Kenmore has cut its budget just like Edenbrook. She basically works for free now."
"We'll figure it out guys, okay? We always figure it out somehow. I gotta go, but I promise to find a solution."
The three of them went their separate ways, Jackie determined to get some coffee from the cafeteria.
"Dr. Varma? Could I talk to you for a second?"
Ramsey's voice snapped her our of not so bright thoughts and she turned on her heel to face him.
"Yeah? Is something wrong with Chiara?"
"No change. It's just... I didn't mean to eavesdrop... well..."
"Get to the point, Dr. Ramsey."
Despite feeling anxious and nervous for the past few days, she found some weird sense of satisfaction on how the tables have turned now. She still remembered clearly how he said those exact words to her in her intern year.
"Right, sorry. Look, I heard you talking about Chiara and some money problems. I understand that it's... rather difficult for you to pay for her checks?"
Jackie raised her eyebrow, surprised, but didn't deny what he said. She nodded and let him continue.
"I don't mean to offend any of you by my offer, but would you let me pay for her checks? I've been second year resident once and I know how much you get paid. And I know that Dr. Ray's mother is going through a lot. Paying for your apartment is, well, no problem for me and I would like to help at least this way."
"Wow, I expected you to talk to me about that woman who can't stop vomiting in the room 232. Look, Dr. Ramsey, what you are offering is really nice and, uhm, surprising, coming from you, but I am not sure it would be appropriate."
"Consider it a loan, then. When Chiara wakes up and gets her life together again, she can pay me back."
"I need to talk to my roommates about that, it's not my decision to make after all. Thank you for the offer, though."
"Okay. I'll be happy to help. Oh and Dr. Varma?"
"Yeah?"
"I am sorry for how I acted the night of the accident. I yelled at you and that was wrong."
"It's okay, Dr. Ramsey. We've all got our ways of dealing with pain."
With that she left, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts. He automatically turned towards Chiara's room and after the door closed after him, he started to talk.
"It's not work today. I just need to let this out. I miss you, Chiara. I really miss you. It's gotten to the point where I just keep staring at your photos and hope that it could wake you up. I never confessed to you about the photo I have of you. After the first night we spent together, day before your ethic trial, you sat on the floor in my apartment, wearing one of my shirts, reading some random history book you found. I was making some coffee for the both of us, watching you from the distance and in that moment I couldn't resist the urge to take photo of you. So I did. And I was too embarassed to admit it to you, that I found you beautiful and wanted to have the moment immortalized. I never found the strenght to delete the photo though. And now that you are here, I find myself looking at the damn photo every day, not believing that I was once lucky enough to have you in my shirt reading my book in my apartment. I really miss you. And I can keep missing you, knowing that it won't last forever, knowing that you'll wake up. I can handle missing you as long as I have hope."
He indeed did sound desperate. He never even believed in hope. But after the long weeks without her, feeling only fear, allowing himself to feel something as pathetic as hope was enahncing.
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Text
And for my next trick i am gonna attempt to list my
TOP TEN FAVOURITE SONGS FROM HAMILTON
because i know you lot are DYING to know my opinion. 
In the 12 days since i experienced it for the first time i’ve listened to the soundrack like a lot.
And i mean
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a lot! (this is an old pic. It’s now up to 2478 plays)
the bottom 5 are not really in any kind of order.
BOTTOM FIVE!!1!!!
10 - The Room Where it Happens
100% Pure banger, bop and jam. Click boom!
9 It’s Quiet Uptown
Tears, tears everywhere. Beautiful. Stunning. Haven’t cried this much since my Nanna’s funeral. GG. When he sings ‘He’d be standing here right now. And you would smile and that would be enough!’ You can hear the absolute heartbreak and devastation.
8 Right Hand Man
My one criticism of this song is that the intro of George Washington could have had more of a build up (kinda like Frank-N-Furter). it was great... but it could have been greater.
7 Non-Stop
The end of act one has it all.
6 - You’ll be back (plus the other two)
When Jonathon Groff strutted out after farmer Refuted i was absolutely in no way prepared for the glorious absurdity of this. What a twat. Catchy AF.
TOP FIVE!!11!!!!
5 - Alexander Hamilton
Great intro to the musical. Straight away I was all finger snapping and into it. It’s up there with ‘Science Fiction/Double Feature’ from ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ as the greatest opening number to a musical ever (not that i’ve seen millions of musicals but that is not the point). It lays the scene perfectly while introducing all of the major players.
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4 - Helpless/Satisfied
Am i cheating by having 2 songs in one spot? Yes. Do i care. No, because It would be a travesty to split these two as they’re linked. Helpless is an absolute bop in the style of Destiny’s Child. Satisifed has some of the best vocals (and acting) in the show from Renée Elise Goldsberry. Heartbreaking stuff.
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3 - Wait for It
Wasn’t really a fan of this for the first several listens and then i looked at the lyrics for it and something just clicked. WOW! Just WOW! The first time everyone comes in with ‘WAIT FOR IT!’ is pure magic and touches me in a special place. Leslie Odom Jr. won a Tony for best actor for this and i can see why. The real MVP of the show. This song is too short though. CRIMINAL!
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2 - One Last Time
Not gonna lie. I have shed many unmanly tears to this song in the last 10 days. I had no idea who Christopher Jackson was before watching Hamilton. But holy shit that man can sing. Every time the song starts i’m like ‘awww this is nice’ and then the first time he actually sings ‘One last time’ I’m all ‘oh here we go’ and i can feel myself getting all emotional. And then when Lin-Manuel starts doing the address and Cristopher joins in i’m usually crying like a baby (BTW that whole address thing is absolute genius). And if i’m not sobbing by then i definitely am when the backing singers come in with the ‘George Washington’s going home’
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1 - Yorktown (The world turned upside down)
Personally i think this is the perfect song to show someone who knows nothig about Hamilton to try and get them to watch it.It has most of the major players in it. It’s action packed and entertaining. And that immigrant line.. OOOF! Nice. If someone had shown me this ages ago i would have checked out hamilton sooner.. but nobody did.
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Shout out to ‘What’d i miss’ which just misses out because it’s made better by Daveed Diggs’ Prince influenced performance in the live show. He makes the song better than it is. You dig?
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ververa · 4 years
Text
Strong Enough
A/N: Okay, so my dear petals, this is gonna be a-few-part story. The inspiration for writing it was my own heartbreak and breakdown, but also some things that happened along the way. I hope that you will enjoy it and that maybe some of you can relate to it.
I’d like to dedicate it to everyone who has ever got their heart broken.
Last but by no means least, I’d like to thank my friends  @emilyprentissisababe​ @misssmephisto​ @darling-dontforgetme​ @sarahsbabygurl​ @angel-of-me​ for being there for me <3
Part 1: Xandra x fem!reader
Words: 2.300
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You had never been a huge fan of relationships. It’s not that you didn’t want to be in one - you did. You were just afraid of being hurt as you got your heart broken almost always. You were  way too sensitive for all that and usually fall hard for people, so at some point you decided you’d be better by yourself. But then you met her… 
Xandra came into your life when you less expected it. You didn’t think you would ever  fall for her, as she’s far from your idea of a perfect partner. Yet she knew very well how to talk to you. She got to you and before you realized it you were bound to her. Everyone kept telling you that she’s no good for you. And deep inside you felt they might have been right. You felt like something wasn’t quite okay when you began having troubles sleeping and struggle to keep your emotions under control. Yet you were stubborn. It felt so good to have her - at least you repeated that to yourself. So, even though you were hurting most of the time, as crying became something normal - almost as brushing teeth every morning - you kept pushing yourself, because you didn’t want to lose her. Whenever you were sad and your friends tried to convince you to break up with Xandra you would take her side. You knew your relationship wasn’t all that healthy, but it felt good. It felt amazing to be in love. It felt wonderful to have someone with whom you could share your dreams, ideas, thoughts. Someone who was a part of your life and with whom you wanted to create the future.
It was detrimental to you, but you kept going further and further. You didn’t want to give up on her even when it’s hard to be around her. Xandra had her ways to get you do whatever she wanted. She had her own moods, desires, priorities, goals. She was a “conqueror”. She constantly needed to have something to achieve, because when she hadn’t she got bored. Xandra loved being in charge and you totally submitted, as you were sure that would make her happy and would let you keep her by your side. You were ready to do anything - whatever it took to make her satisfied, to make her believe you were worth her love and time. Whenever something was wrong you took the blame on yourself. You praised her and treated her as if she were a queen, even though you were falling apart from inside.
You gave her all of you. You gave her more than you could actually. But despite it one day she just decided she didn’t want you any longer. She told you that you were not the one and she didn’t love you anymore. And just like that she left. She took the best of you and left you all alone as if you were some kind of a toy that wasn’t trendy anymore. 
At first you couldn’t understand it, but with time you began to realize how many signs you had missed. You were blinded by something that you called love. You wanted to be with her so badly that you stopped noticing she didn’t care. There was no affection or attention on her side. Xandra simply didn’t give a shit about you anymore. You had never really considered your breaking up, because for you she was the only one. You didn’t want to give up on her even when you were more hurt than happy. You had tried to reach for her so many times, so, when she actually left - it hit you harder than anything before.
You knew it’s bad, but you didn’t realize how bad. You stopped noticing most of the things and kept on blaming yourself. You felt betrayed. You felt awful - it even got to the point when you began to experience physical pain. It wasn’t just your mind and soul that were suffering - it was everything, all of you - your mind, soul and body. You had a breakdown and then got depressed.
You didn’t know what to do with your life. You didn’t know how to carry on without her, because you hadn't thought you would have to. You knew it wasn’t wise to need someone, as much as you had depended on her. You knew you had fallen way too hard and the worst thing about it was that, despite promising, she wasn’t there to catch you. And so you crashed. You felt like a clown for being this way. But no matter how hard you tried you simply couldn’t get over it just like that. You couldn’t act as if nothing had happened, because it had. It did happen and it broke you in all possible ways. You felt as if you had lost a part of you and that part was so huge, that you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. But even worse than that was the feeling of not being good enough. It just kind of made you feel like a loser. 
You kept wondering how it was possible - to go from falling in love to falling apart so easily. You asked yourself how could have you been so naive and deceptive? You felt hopeless. There was no one to hear your SOS. No one to catch you. No one who could save you from what you had done to your poor heart yourself. You knew that you were the one who had to save yourself  from a heartache and all the misery on your own, yet it was harder than it might have seemed. 
You stopped in front of a mirror and looked at your reflection. You frowned seeing how miserably you looked. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, you had under eye circles, because of many sleepless nights. It had been weeks since you put on any make-up at all. You hadn’t worn anything, but some baggy T-shirts and sweatpants either. But you didn’t care. You just kind of felt like dying. 
“You look like a shit, Y/N” you said to yourself “No wonder she doesn’t want you” you sighed
You spent most of the time in bed - just lying there and crying. Wondering what you did wrong, why weren’t you enough anymore. It had been almost two weeks since Xandra had broken up with you. She already moved on. She was happy and had a new someone, but you still couldn’t pull yourself together. 
Every day was like a torture. A never-ending battle with yourself and your feelings. You couldn’t forget and you failed to understand how she could have walked away just like that. Where were those happy days? What happened to your love? You kept asking yourself. There were so many questions and doubts
“Y/N, you should eat something” your best friend said
“I’m not hungry…” you shrugged preparing some coffee
Caffeine  was the last thing on the earth that kept you going physically, yet it’s far more worse mentally, because for that kind of pain there was no cure.
“You’re doing it again” she complained
“Doing what?”
“Punishing yourself for something that you’re not the one to blame for”
“I am not punishing myself…”
  Deep inside you knew your friend was right. Maybe not exactly, but you indeed were destructing yourself. It wasn’t on purpose. You wanted to sleep, you wanted to eat and function as you did before the break-up. Yet, you couldn’t. Your stomach hurt for most of the time. Whenever you tried to eat something you felt nauseous. You did realise how it affected your body - you lost on weight and had no energy at all. You tried to pull yourself together, but you also didn’t feel like a person anymore.
You were drained - both mentally and physically. You were devastated and didn’t act like yourself. That made your friends worried. At first your best friend was sure it would pass soon and you’d get better with time. But weeks passed and your state was getting worse and worse. Luckily for you, you didn’t need to go to work for a couple of weeks, because if you had to, you would most likely lose that job. However it was different with school. You tried to get everything done, but it was too much for your exhausted mind and body. And so you totally messed it up.
Your best friend  tried everything to help you, but nothing seemed to work. You’re getting thinner, paller, more tired. It kind of looked as if life was slowly living your body. You became totally apathetic. You paid no attention to anything - especially yourself. That's why your friend couldn’t just sit on her hands. 
“Get up!” she yelled trying to make you get out of your bed 
“What for?”
“We’re going to a party. Come on! Get up. You need to take a shower and put on makeup”
“I don’t want to…”
“But you need to. Come on, Y/N, you’ll feel better”
“Xandra didn’t like me going out”
“Because she was a possessive, devious bitch who wanted to control you” she snapped “Look, baby, I know it hurts, but she’s not here anymore. You have no one to be faithful to - only yourself. And you really need to pull yourself together, because I’m worried”
“It just feels weird… I mean going out on my own”
“Y/N you don’t need an owner. You’re fine on your own, remember?”
“Yeah” you nodded as your mind went back to the moment you - yourself said that   
“Now drink this” she gave you a glass of water “And go get ready, cause tonight we’re having fun as we used to do”
You smiled and nodded obediently drinking water.
Your friend had no idea that the party would result in your entering yet another stage of your breakdown. She couldn’t have possibly known. Moreover it was really hard to say whether that phase was better or not. You began taking care of yourself again. At first everyone was sure you finally got over Xandra, but that was only an illusion. In reality you were still cracking from inside - more and more with every day, yet you decided to do something about it. Well, maybe not exactly about it, but you just wanted to stop feeling all those negative things. At times you thought that it was far more better to be numb, rather than experiencing all the sadness and misery. That horrible feeling of emptiness was killing you and you desperately tried to fill it with something.
At first it felt peculiar. You were dressing up, but not for Xandra. You forgot how that felt, the same as you forgot how it was to go out and meet new people. But you didn’t need much time to catch up on all that you had missed. You didn’t get better at all. Instead of crying you just started going out and partying. You began drinking and smoking more. You were meeting a lot of new people and spending time with them, but you didn’t even like them. You only wanted some distraction. You realized it was really selfish and it wasn’t like you, but apparently that was what you had learnt from Xandra. 
From time to time you had those moments, when you were absolutely sure you got over her completely. You were perfectly able to be happy on your own. But every time you felt that way there always came a comedown.You might have been happy all day or even a few days in a row. Yet then you got even more depressed and vastly indifferent.
Rendezvous with bottles of alcohol of all kind, swaying drunk on the dance floor or flirting with newly met people - all that was for nothing. None of those things could cure you.  
It was hard to be around you. You were pretty annoying and unpredictable. You were aware of how many bothersome situations you put your friend in, but you couldn’t stop it. It felt as if you were going from being totally in control to not being in control at all. You just kind of got lost deep inside and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t find yourself. It took you some time to realize there was no “you” anymore. However, your best friend was there for you. She kept taking care of you anyway, because she loved you as if you were her sister. That’s why she wasn’t going to let you totally lost yourself and  waste your life for grieving over someone who wasn’t worth it.
It was one of those days that felt amazing, when you felt like old version of you. You were sure you got it and finally pulled yourself together. You were happy, you went out with some guys and got drunk. Then they offered you some "magical pills" as they called them and you obviously accepted, because you wanted to feel happier and didn’t want to think about Xandra. You had never thought that her being on your mind could be so detrimental and painful. You had never expected to experience such a heartache, when anything at all seemed  better than experiencing your own feelings.You took the pills they had given to you and drank even more. You didn’t think at that moment. You didn’t consider what outcomes it would bring. It did make you kind of happy at first. You felt so free and light, but then all the negative feelings hit you all over again. And there you were - dizzy, sweaty, nauseous and broken even more - in the middle of the club. Somehow you managed to call your friend and that was all you remembered from that night.
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tiffgeorgina · 4 years
Note
what did you think of the new episode???
OH LORD i had a lotttt of thoughts on this episode, understandably. CONTENT WARNING FOR DISCUSSIONS OF SUICIDE AT THE VERY BOTTOM OF THIS POST (it’s a long paragraph). also obviously spoiler warning for 2x08.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255
please reach out to somebody if you’re feeling distressed after this episode, or if you or a loved one is considering self harm or suicide. im always here if you need somebody to vent or talk to. i love you all and i would be devastated if anything happened to any of you. 
anyways, episode discussion below:
-first of all, the corgina scene at the very beginning was PRICELESS. tiff and corkie had it DOWN until tiff lost her cool. i was DYING. casey wilson invented the word “fuck.”
-marcus/dawn and connie/mo double date. this whole scene had me CACKLING. marcus being such a comrade was not at all what i expected. the three-on-one connie smackdown i could not BREATHE. also includes classic moments such as “we’re doing black shit right now keith” and regina stealing every scene she’s in. also WOMEN xosha roquemore (connie) in dark lipstick is the best part of s2 prove me wrong
-also kind of out of order but dawn calling mo her best friend did not sit right... like in my soul. it’s like inherently wrong. so STRANGE to hear her say that.
-but connie sucks at being subtle lmfao dawn was not having any of that 
-“i can’t vote. im a felon” just out of nowhere GOD. and the fact that that’s the first time dawn’s learning that mo went to prison is fucked up. i’ve never seen a woman want a man to shut up so badly, and i’ve never been so glad that said man did not shut up lmfao
-tiff and blair’s apartment looks so good yes god!! also this season keeps referencing blair’s parents and it’s kind of putting me on edge. especially since next episode is “blair [being] forced to revisit his past.” on another note, andrew’s voice in this scene is SO FUNNY. you can tell he’s a voice actor i think
-also like we knew blair was into older men but now we like know lmfao. the richard gere jokes had LAYERS these writers outsold
-ok blair&tiff’s relationship... yikes. i cannot tell what the writers want their relationship to be. are they unhealthy and toxic and bad to each other? or are they platonic soulmates and life partners? make up your MIND, showtime.
-DON’T INFANTILIZE THE CUP BYE KJDFHGDFKJ
-first blarris scene was TENSE. acting good
-the confirmation that roger has kids... i mean i suspected it from the moment tuc’s character was announced in september but it makes the ending so much more painful. i KNOW that’s the only reason why they pushed the fact that the harrises are parents in this episode, bc it was never confirmed earlier.
-i hate how funny michael hitchcock is. im trying to hate newell but im laughing. why are his lines so funny who wrote this. 
-the sound design in this episode was a lot to take in. the music was intense asf and it stays intense throughout the whole ep
-keith cracking onto blair and trying to reconcile with him bc he’s feeling empathetic but blair shutting him down... can’t say keith doesn’t deserve it but i would’ve loved to have seen keith and blair just talk about being closeted and having affairs and shit.
-THE TRUMP CHILDREN LMFAOOOO they all look so smug the casting was great this ep
-mo shit talking connie TO HER FACE bc he knows connie can’t give up the act... fucking priceless i love to see it acab
-dawnroe physical contact hhhhh can you tell im rewatching this ep as i type this
-the wording on the “you’re with the FBI?” line is so perfect. bc it makes it totally sound like dawn’s onto mo and connie when really she’s just like “you’re siding with the FBI bitch?” highkey genius line
-posted this too early by accident oops. im still editing im not done yet lmfao
-MARCUS MO AND DAWN SAID ACAB FUCK YES
-ROGER GRABBING BLAIR’S HAND I AM ASCENDING. i knew about the hand holding scene there but i didn’t think roger would initiate it <3
-roger nearly kissing blair :’/
-LORD the trump children are little shits god
-daddy says it makes me look hot. you mean cute? ...no.
-oh GOD not this blarris scene. i like to believe that a gay person generally wouldn’t threaten to out another gay person on principle, but blair has shown how shitty of a person he's become all season. i hate it and it’s still ooc but i’ve seen worse on this show tbh.
-roger’s got a point, if he supports his campaign fund manager right off the bat, he’ll look like a total fraud and his career will be over. the fact that blair barely gives a shit really speaks to what his character has become. “fuck them” what a classic line
-ANDREW’S ACTING!!! his voice when he says “you use me” ugh i felt that in my chest. plus roger looking away after he says that... i mean god this cast is so talented
-blair snapping god. he’s got a point, he and roger have been dysfunctional asf all season. doesn’t justify threatening to out somebody AT ALL but finally hearing some emotion out of blair, a little bit of anger and frustration, it’s refreshing.
-does “who are you, blair?” count as a parallel to “who are you, pfaff?” from 1x01?
-blair outing roger to newell... yikes. again ooc and bad. blair’s a shitty guy but we’ve seen him have empathy before, even in s2. why would they make him do this i don’t get it.
-keith finding out about lenny is good. maybe something will finally come of this arc?
-parallel to 2x02 with blair mentioning his mom’s phrase, cool. probably gearing us up for more references to his parents next ep, culminating in a flashback to his childhood in 2x10.
-this scene where the trump kids are destroying everything is classic. you can genuinely tell that everybody there was having so much fun shooting that. idk, it’s nice.
-trump reveal HA what a great end to that scene
-keith coming by and fucking everything up... i mean i guess everybody KNOWS now. dawn/marcus is over (good) and dawn is probably right pissed at mo rn. but hey, fuck em all resurgence!!! ive been waiting for it and now it’s here!
-im scared, what’s connie gonna do? fuck cops
-“that’s a long way to go just to get a dig in” “it was a stretch but-” see what happens when you’re a narc? you lose your wit :/ sad! nice exit line from connie tho
-CW SUICIDE MENTION. ok time to talk about what definitely needs to be talked about. god this has had my chest hurting all day yesterday. i knew blarris would be outed eventually bc sho likes to milk every plot point for every bit of drama they can get out of it, but i did not expect roger to take his life. and blair finding him is just devastating. i said this on twt, but the fact that somebody could be so overwhelmed with internalized homophobia that being outed could cause them to commit suicide is so incredibly and deeply sad to me. i’ve been crying for a while over that fact. 
im just. im really sad. i’ve connected so much with these characters over the past two-ish years and this is such a devastating turn of events. i have no words. it isn’t bad writing or ooc by any means, it’s just so extremely and incredibly sad. there are probably thousands of people who have been in roger’s exact position before, and the realism really hits me hard. i can’t put into words how overwhelming sad this makes me. 
also pretty upset that this came as a COMPLETE shock to me and all my friends. we all watched on the sho streaming service, which did not have the “viewer discretion advised” card before the ep. the premier did, but the episode on the app did not. i really REALLY wish they had added that before i had seen the episode so i could prepare myself, even if just slightly. also wish they had added a suicide hotline number at the end. 
seeing blair grieve his loss is going to hurt but it’s probably going to give us closure too. i think about this show all the time, and now thinking about it makes me so overwhelmingly sad. i sound dramatic but this show has been with me for so long. not being able to see much of blair’s reaction beside the initial shock has been haunting me. im so scared for what the future episodes are going to bring.
thank you for reading, i love you all <3
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graphicabyss · 4 years
Text
?人 NEWS
I wrote an enormous post, or rather an essay, concerning NEWS, Tegoshi, and everything that went through my mind in the past month. Honestly, it’s mostly my way of coping, getting it out of my system and sorting out my thoughts and feelings. But I decided to also post it here for those who might want to read.
It was a long time coming. The rumours were lurking around for years and a month ago they bloomed. And yet, the full realization is yet to dawn on me. When something devastating happens, our mind tends to shake off the pain by either exonerating the beloved person who hurt us, or blaming them and distancing away from them. It's really hard to stay objective. But I'll try.
Coming into this fandom, I prepared myself for disappointment. Once I was a TVXQ fan. You know, the 5-nin TVXQ that was going to be "together forever" and all that. So I wowed never to get that invested in a pop band. When NEWS came along, I tried not to get too attached. I knew it would hurt me, sooner of later. And for awhile, it worked. But, as years went by, I knew I lost the battle. We humans need to cling to something. Thus, nearly 7 years have passed.
To me, Tegoshi has always been a key component. He was the one that led me to NEWS. Or rather, how pretty he looked in a dress. Tegoshi always kept me interested. Sometimes he excited, sometimes he annoyed, but he was never ever boring. He was made of contradictions, both in words and in actions. Nothing ever adds up with him. He made me want to understand him but I could never quite grasp it. Thinking about it now, perhaps it was because he doesn't really understand himself either.
In these years, I had several crisis points where I considered leaving the fandom, all caused by something shitty Tegoshi said or did. But every time I bounced back. Of course, I didn't do it for him. I did it for myself. However, his selfishness has always been offset by his kindness. The last time was him crying at the end of Neverland tour and how sorry he looked. Till the end, I wanted to believe that his common sense and loyalty won't let him do something reckless and stupid. Yet, here we are. The interview he gave to Bunshun led me to believe that he would do the right thing. He said he would show his gratitude to JE and would definitely make his fans happy but now it's the furthest thing from the truth. The fandom is disappointed, confused, angry.
Some people say to get over it, that Tegoshi was meant to leave or some shit. But I think those people fundamentally misunderstand the heart of the problem. It's not that he left that infuriated the fandom. It's how and when he left. Most fans would support his decision to leave if the transition was done properly. He owed us that much. A proper apology. A proper gratitude. A proper farewell. The announcement had me in disbelief. I expected him to at least finish the contract, do the Story Tour, no matter how long it takes, and show the members, staff and the fans the respect they deserve. To cut it short feels like a violation. At the very least, we need a closure. The last goodbye. The last concert. The last something. He just left JE after 17 years like it was nothing.
More than anything, what he did seems so stupid. He had it so fucking good. He was always in the spotlight, both on stage and in TV shows. The other members did most of the offscreen work allowing him to shine. He was supported by endlessly patient members and staff. He had the freedom to choose and all the work he wanted for each of his passions - ItteQ, Soccer Earth, OpenRec. And he had fans that always supported him, no matter how many scandals he had.
What was so important that he had to give up on all the amazing benefits he had? To betray all this trust? And on top of it, at a time like this? When all world is going through so much shit? When the fans need moral support more than ever? What were the "dreams" that he talked about?
The ability to rant on Twitter? Making duckface selfies? Fucking around? Assembling a shitty rock band? Performing with strippers? Some kind of unique business opportunity? He talked for years about wanting to perform overseas or hosting fan events but right now these things are offlimit anyway. Why couldn't he at the very least explain his decision properly? Just that alone will definitely hurt his further career in the long run. The press-conference lasted 2 hours but it answered none of the questions that really mattered and there was no remorse. Though at this point, I can't trust anything he says anyway. He created his Twitter account the the evening it all went down and didn't bother explaining himself. He just jumped off the ship and let other people deal with the damage.
Even now, it all seems like some kind of bad dream. Then again, all of the 2020 does.
When I first saw "手越退社" trending on Twitter back in May I felt like I was spinning into a downward spiral, like all air was sucked out of me. And it wasn't the "oh, no! what will the band do?" I never went to a NEWS concert and never brought any merch. To me, it wasn't really the feelings of a fan whose band faces a crisis but rather that of an entrepreneur who invested too much money into one asset and watched it plummet.
Fandom stuff is a currency that can devalue in a blink of an eye. Its valuable as long as its core message is intact. This is why I can't stand people being petty over scans or videos. I share when I can knowing it will make someone happy because I know that tomorrow that someone might move on. When I stumble upon old closed journals with password-protected downloads they feel like ancient abandoned temples. The treasures in them turned to dust.
4nin NEWS were based on unity, the combination of 4 unique characters. Four components, each of them essential. Now that concept failed. It's like standing in front of a collapsed building. I try to assess the damage. How much of it can I salvage? Repurpose? How much is lost and needs to be cleaned up? Should I even bother?
What do I do with hundreds of live performances and TV shows, in HD, lovingly downloaded and stored?
What to make of thousands of scans, magazines, pamphlets, almost each image edited and sorted? Thousands more stored neatly in folders, waiting to be posted. Countless screens and gifs.
What of the member ai fanvideos that gained over 100k on Youtube bringing joy to so many people? I already got the first heartbroken comment saying "we won't ever see them like that again, will we?"
What to make of my unfinished stories? Honestly, it's one of the things I'm most proud in my entire life. Now their future is uncertain.
Do I take down the poster on my wall? The CDs on my shelf? Soon I will have to looks at my enormous stash and decide for each item. Things that once brought joy now cause pain.
NEWS weren't selling music, they were selling ideas and dreams. The cute band photos now cause hurt and anger. The uplifting songs about unity won't be convincing. All the concerts lost their charm.
Am I being too dramatic? Probably. Perhaps the issue itself may seem trivial to an outsider but our grief is real.
Tegoshi keeps saying he loves NEWS and adores the members. But to me, loving is doing everything you can to avoid hurting the ones you love. Perhaps he means it, but that love will never compare to the love he has for himself. Despite what he says, I doubt we'll even see them together again and I'm not even sure I want to. I knew apart from Koyashige, the members aren't really that close personally. Tegoshi is shallow and seeks popularity more than anything. I'm sure than now he'll hang out with even shadier characters than before. The members used to provide him with the much needed tough love. Now, with nothing and noone holding him back, he'll give in to his overblown ego.
I'm not sure how I feel about NEWS continuing as 3. I mean, I support their decision and that's probably what most fans want but to me, I don't know if it'll work out that well. They were already a band with a lot of luggage and now, just like in 2011, they are a band that induces pity. They would have to rearrange so much to try and fill this huge gaping hole. Not to mention they will struggle vocally. No songs, no choreography can be unaltered. It might be better to go on within the agency doing their own things. But then that would just mean Tegoshi was indispensable and all the work they put in will be wasted. The Story must be competed.
In the past week I went through various stages of grief. The anger was strong and so was disbelief. Now it's finally subsiding, giving way to acceptance. It won't come soon but I'll let all the emotions run their course. The fact is Tegoshi remains very entertaining and the temptation to keep following him and rant about him is strong. I probably wouldn't even fight it if he were to leave with at least a shred of dignity. But with the way things are, I refuse to support him in any way. And I will at least try to phase him out as much as I can as I realize that even my anger is playing into his hands as he wants nothing more than attention, good or bad. Instead, I'll try to focus on those who do deserve support.
I'm not yet sure how to proceed with the blog and everything else but I'll take my time and figure it out. The truth is Tegoshi was one of the two major things that have kept me here for so long. And no, the second reason is not Shige. It's the people. Out of all the fandoms I've been in over the years this one really felt like home. I met so many amazing people here, even though many of them have since moved on. I felt accepted and appreciated.
This week has been an emotional roller-coaster. But today I feel fine. I have a dozen reasons to be depressed. But I'm not miserable right now because of the fandom. I've had about 10 people write to me within several days. Some of them I haven't talked to in months, some I've never talked to before, and some from other fandoms. They reached out to share their thoughts and feelings, and I appreciate it so much. I felt less alone. I felt a sense of solidarity, a sisterhood. Many agreed with me and it was touching but even more touching were the people who didn't necessarily agree with me and still wanted to hear what I had to say.
Perhaps it's patronizing but I feel like right now the best I can do is stay connected and go through this together. If I can help others, through informing, making someone smile, or supporting emotionally, it's all worth it.
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