#so ill do a part 2 when i go through the interviews instead instead of just pulling these out of my head | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alovelyburn · 2 years

Text

Rambles about The Golden Age Arc - Part 4

I spent a good deal of time today going through the handbook Dark Horse released whenever ago, and man it has a lot of interesting information. It’s not directly written by Miura - those things rarely are, but it did clarify some things - such as placing Griffith and Guts at the same age vs the OVA sheets that placed Griffith at a few years older than Guts.

I’ll probably mention some of the stuff happening in there at some point, the interview ith Miura was particularly notable, as were some of the comments about Femto’s behavior toward Guts (I mean, basically it confirmed that Femto goes out of his way to hurt Guts and says that’s perhaps because of Griffith’s feelings for him pre-ascension).

Anyway!

Rambles about The Golden Age Arc - Part 4

Today I”m just going to talk about the assassination stuff and Promrose because the latter is already pretty hefty and after that comes the Casca flashback which is just a huge... thing.

1. Guts shouting at that fox is just hilarious, although I agree with Charlotte that hunting foxes kind of sucks.

Anyway, speaking of Charlotte, I really quite like her. She gets some flack for being kind of willowy, but I don’t really think she is. She’s sheltered and naive, but she does have a toughness to her that starts to come out through her interactions with Griffith, leading to her assisting in his rescue and then ultimately traveling with the reborn Hawks later on. It’s just that she, in the beginning of her appearances, is very sheltered and inexperienced as her father has basically rapunzeled her for reasons that become all too horribly clear later, of course.

Also her hair in this chapter is just adorable.

This is actually around the time a lot of the characterizations and relationships start to really clarify themselves though. Casca’s feelings about Griffith - and thus the basis of her resentment toward Guts - start to become obvious when she sees Griffith and Charlotte spending time together. Griffith’s feelings about Guts became clear in the Zodd/Master of the Sword chapters. It’s also around now that you start seeing Griffith’s dark/sinister side bleeding into his surface albeit mostly when no one’s looking.

Griffith’s hawk stare thing just strikes me as the part of him that eventually gets pulled out as Femto - notable Femto’s eyes are permafixed in that stare.

2. I wonder how many times Guts was tempted to just yeet the behelit over the horizon, like it is creepy af and also obviously he doesn’t trust to be a normal piece of jewellry.

3. I really love this scene because... well a few things. First of all, only Griffith would be like yes it’s just light reading, for example chemistry. Okay then. Also, Griffith hands Guts an erotic manual and Guts does actually take the book and start flipping through it. Like, okay Guts I see where your head is at.

Of course, looking at the actual images, it also has the unfortunate implication that Griffith acted out those pages during the eclipse rape scene. Which, aside from being awful is also... interesting? It just kind of furthers the impression that she gets used as a conduit through which they express their feelings about each other, for good or ill.

Anyway, the choice of Guts as an assassin is kind of wild, right? he’s 6′8″ tall (HE IS, THAT’S OFFICIAL) and carries a 6 foot long sword. He’s not like. Inconspicuous you know? So the choice is I guess more about who gets to see this part of Griffith than any practical concerns - as evidenced by how completely nonstealthy he ended up in fact being. But the fact that he asks instead of ordering is of course a massive insight into his perspective on Guts, even if Guts doesn’t see it at the time.

And Guts doesn’t mind assassinating people! These are the reasons they should have been able to work their shit out, you know? Griffith needed someone who could look at his dark side without flinching and still find him beautiful (and I don’t mean physically), and Guts absolutely does do that. In fact, Griffith’s dark side really just makes him cooler in Guts’ eyes - the only thing that throws him is the accidental death of Adonis, which has more to do with his projecting than his morals, and which Griffith didn’t even order him to do - whether you think he expected Adonis to end up dead or not, it wasn’t part of the orders.

As a sidenote, I’ll probably babble about this more in the Queen assassination chapter, but sometimes I see people using Griffith’s orchestrating these assassinations of Julius and the Queen as evidence of his being Evol The Whole Time and I always just think.... sorry these people are royalty and they’re trying to have him murdered. They have endless resources and a violent grudge. What should he do? Just lay down and die? Come on man.

Another thing that pops out to me in this scene is Guts’ “it aint like you” thing. So, in the last installment of me talking too much about Berserk, I kind of mused a bit about the nature of the Griffith-Guts relationship pre-Promrose, which is to say they’re close but Guts doesn’t necessarily realize how close they are.

Anyway I guess what it is, is that Griffith thinks of Guts as a friend and peer, and Guts thinks of himself as Griffith’s favorite Hawk. It’s not that he doesn’t know that Griffith values him, and obviously he knows they’re close and that Griffith sets him apart from the others. But he does have something of a skew on where the center of that closeness originates. It helps that Guts does have this image of Griffith that is a bit off from where he actually is, which is a big problem and a primary cause of the breakdown in their relationship. It’s funny because I think a lot of times readers take for granted that Guts’ view of Griffith as cold, relentless, etc is actually true and accurate but it clearly isn’t.

So this moment really speaks ot that divide, because Griffith wouldn’t have asked instead of ordering if he weren’t treating Guts as a friend instead of a subordinate.

I do think that the “Do I need a reason” starts his wheels turning, but before he can really fully adjust his expectations and understanding, the Promrose speech happens and he resets but in a way that is... far less satisfying but more on that in a second.

4. Pure speculation, but I wonder if this is around the time Miura decided that Guts and Casca should be a thing. Because it definitely marks a shift in her approach to him.

But anyway lets talk about Guts’ reaction even before Griffith opens his big mouth and starts talking about dreams.

I don’t really know what made Guts decide to march his bleeding, sewage covered self over to a freaking ball without washing off first btu there’s something to be said for the single-mindedness with which he looks for Griffith after the assassination incident. I’m going to guess it’s to report/warn him about what’s happened, at least in the main, but there’s also a certain level on which he just wants to see and speak to Griffith, the person who has given him the foundation of who he’s become and brought him so much... assurance and confidence and internal balance. All that said, the look he gets on his face when he sees Griffith with Charlotte

Closely echoes the looks Casca gets when she sees Griffith with Charlotte.

And as a person who specifically drew inspiration from shojo romance comics, and a bunch of shounen-ai style stuff in specific (Kaze to Ki no Uta is wild as far as visual parallels) I just wonder if it’s really reasonable to think Miura didn’t know what it implies when you have your protagonist stare in heartbroken shock at someone who is chatting up a(nother??) love interest at the top of a flight of stairs.

Basically, this is the moment when what are essentially rivals for Griffith’s attention/affection find themselves at an equal point, staring up at the unattainable, but standing next to each other. The fact that it happens just as Griffith’s big mouth is about to open this schism between Guts and himself and thus send Guts and Casca toward each other does not go unnoticed by me.

So that brings us to...

5. Griffith really loves to talk about how he puts his dream above all the other things, but is that really true?

Well no, it isn’t. First of all he explicitly values and prioritizes Guts over his dream - not only do we see him doing it in action, he also says as much himself in his internal monologue in the torture cell.

But even more than that, there’s a level on which the dream itself is something he is doing in service to the people who live in service to it - this becomes super explicit both during the flashback and the Eclipse mindscape sequence but for now let’s put it this way: Griffith is long past the point where he’s going through with his dream because he really just wants a castle. He is essentially created this mythology for and about himself to inspire people to believe in his goals, but once he got going they started dying off and at that point it became too late to stop because obviously if he stops then he wastes those lives.

If you look at the things he’s saying here, some of them are probably just him putting together his image for the Princess, but there’s also a lot of telling language in which he refers to these dreams as devouring, haunting, hurting, killing a person. He also says the dreams revive, sustain, etc - but these are also pretty haunting because in essence he’s describing a life that is entirely controlled by this one idea - this thing that can break you and kill you and keep you alive... and when he wraps it up into a single closing phrase, he describes it as “a life spent as a martyr to the god named Dream.”

Guts and Charlotte both hear this as an inspirational/positive thing - and it’s meant to sound that way? But it also reveals a lot about Griffith’s perception of himself and his relationship to his dream, this force that has eaten his whole life and left him martyred. It isn’t until post-his night with Charlotte when he’s talking to the King that it becomes fully clear just how destructive that dream has been to him -- something that he knows, but justifies to himself because ultimately if he stops then everyhting is for nothing and he’s wasted thousands of lives and destroyed himself for no purpose whatsoever.

And then there is...

His perception of “friendship” as being reliant on someone’s ability to sustain their own goals and their own selves outside of him and not rely on him for their self-worth basically. It’s not an unreasonable ask... but, you know... I’ve turned over in my head a fair bit whether he actually believes this and if so how does Guts, a subordinate of his, make sense as his friend.

You could say it’s just a disparity between what he believes and what he feels - that happens... a lot where someone says “i’m looking for such and such type of person,” but that isn’t the type of person they ultimately are drawn to.

But ultimately I think it more goes to Guts’ mindset right. Going all the way back to their first meeting, Griffith is drawn to Guts because of his drive and his willingness to face any danger without backing down, and do anything he has to do in order ot achieve his goal - even if that goal is just “not dying” or “not being conscripted into military service by this weirdo.”

In short, Guts’ mindset is just kind of different than the Hawks as a whole. Guts himself doesn’t fully get that - he still doesn’t understand what Griffith saw in him to begin with because Guts has crappy self-esteem and is used to people not seeing any worth in him. But Griffith gets it, and has always gotten it - it’s the reason Guts became his rock... and even as Guts is misunderstanding the situation entirely, his refusal to accept reaching Griffith as an impossible goal is just proof of the point, really - even Casca just swallows it down and accepts it.

There’s a bit in the Berserk handbook that came out a some years back that actually points this out directly when talking about the death of the dream scenes - essentially it notes that Hawks themselves, as individuals, were weak people who are unable to be like Guts. And that’s something that gets pressed a few times too - that the Hawks as individuals are ordinary people who are made extraordinary through Griffith’s leadership - which Judeau also says early on. Without Griffith, they fall apart. But Guts doesn’t. And that’s why Griffith always favored him and ultimately fell in love with him.

Finally...

I think it’s somewhat ambiguous whether Griffith knew and orchestrated Adonis’ death. Obviously he didn’t actually order Guts to do it, but if you think back to when he said Guts’ tendency to fly off the handle and act rashly is part of his plan, there’s an argument to be made that he figured there was a good chance that Guts would panic and kill Adonis. At the same time, it’s kind of difficult for me to buy into, because how could he have predicted that Adonis would walk in there to begin with?

Ultimately I think its’ less that he planned it and more that he was like, oh cool now I don’t have to figure out how to keep that kid from marrying Charlotte, works for me! But I wanted to address it because I do see people suggesting that he he somehow intuited that it would work out that way.

That’s all for now, Bai.

#not the berserk tag #berserk meta #rambles about berserk

15 notes · View notes

jamalgerald · 1 year

Text

50 Things I Learned About Leading A Big Team

Good day! How you do?

I thought it would be good to write about my experience working with a big team. I’ll forever be grateful for everything that everyone has contributed to the process. And let me be clear, it wasn't all doom and gloom when working on JUMBIE. But you know, as they say, there is the good, the bad and the ugly. Let’s be grown about this, there is no such thing as the perfect process. I’m writing this because I don’t think I’ve read many things about messy creative processes. And it’s time that people start being more brutally honest about it.

There were a bunch of things that happened in the 5-week creation period, 2 COVID cases, someone having long COVID, someone having a long term illness and needing surgery, an injury, a dental emergency, and someone’s family member passing away. All of that alone is a lot, which led to a necessary cancellation. But there was way more.

We were resurrecting the Jumbie dance, a trance ritual. One element of the Jumbie dance was healing, the irony. It is something that no longer exists. There is no footage of it online anywhere, there is only one book on it. I was mostly working from the one book, journals that mentioned the Jumbie dance briefly, and what I was told by Montserratian people in interviews.

I would have benefited from having more time to sit with my research and ideas. 2 years wasn't enough. There was also an element of decolonising going on and I don't think some members of the team were ready for it. The fact that the work didn't happen, and the Jumbie dance was done in secret is fascinating. And something I will further explore in the future, as my ancestors didn’t want this particular public performance. Something written and kept in the archives is probably more fitting.

Me writing and sharing this is a part of my learning and healing. If you can't handle the truth, please stop reading. I’m already known for speaking my mind anyway. There's a side to every story, and this is my side. So, let's get to it. I started my practice off as a solo artist. I have now transitioned into becoming an artistic director of my own company. Going from working in mostly small teams to leading a process that had multiple collaborators and performers is such a big jump.

There was a clash of experiences and backgrounds for sure, as people had different expectations of what a process should be. My company Dudaan currently consists of me and my producer. With some support here and there but that was it. My team for JUMBIE had 16 people.

There were also some other people I had to deal with outside of the team. This team needed a team behind it. To me, it’s unrealistic to put all of that work on a new company that is only still a baby.

Another reason I’m writing this blog post is that I would hate for anyone to go through what I went through. I’m also leaving names out and making some things quite vague because I’m a decent human being.

I'm in no way innocent. Here are some of the bad things I’ve done:

- I gave up. With all that went on, I was overwhelmed. I also didn't feel like the performers were listening to me. Although, I felt I gave a lot. From emails including Google docs of the breakdown of all my research to a creation period plan to the dramaturgy of energies to my intentions for the work to useful quotes. Some of these were even printed out and put on the walls in the rehearsal space. After all of this, and the things I shared with them and repeated in the space, it just wasn't sticking with them. But they would listen to other people in the team. So, I thought it would be best for other people to engage with them instead of me. Not the wisest decision, but it felt right to me. I was also scrolling through socials on my iPhone a bit too much, after giving up. I should have been giving the performers my full attention. But as I said, I gave up.

- I got some anonymous feedback from the performers. Because I needed clarity on what they needed going forward. I didn't get what I wanted from the feedback. But I was told there was anxiety in the room. And that I take things too personally and get very defensive. Because of this, I needed time to figure out how to communicate with the performers. And it hurt to receive the feedback because I set up Dudaan to create brave and safe spaces for Black queer artists.

I still engaged with the performers. But I probably wasn't doing enough to everyone else’s standards. I was talking to my mother about being told that I make the performers anxious. And she asked: “why because you're a Black man?” At first, I didn’t think that was the case. But now after doing some reflecting, I believe that was the case. As I doubt the performers have been led by many Black men before.

And now onto the main part of the blog.

Here are the 50 things I learned:

Leading a team is like being a parent. Some people don't stop being children.

2) Be mindful of the way you express yourself. And I hate to say that because it may come across like I’m saying police yourself. I’m not! Don’t police the way you speak to make other people feel comfortable. However, some people can’t handle bluntness, but I would argue if someone can’t handle the way you express yourself, they shouldn’t be working with you. Honestly, I did the bare minimum, I never disrespectfully cussed at anyone, rarely raised my voice and I was told there was anxiety in the room. I feel that I was vilified for being a Black man. The space was giving anti-Blackness because I couldn’t be myself.

3) Just because someone wouldn’t lead the way you would, or make work the way you would, doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.

4) Take accountability for things that were in your control, nothing else. Don’t expect other people to take accountability, though.

5) People bring their anxiety, trauma and insecurities into the room and project them onto you. If you’re not a professional, there is nothing you can do besides be patient.

6) If you’re feeling shit, you’re allowed to feel it. Don’t pretend to be happy all the time. That’s unhealthy.

7) You’re not a terrible person if you want to have lunch by yourself. I’m an ambivert. I can be outgoing but I like my space and peace when I’m at work.

8) Only apologise if necessary. Apologising can sometimes cause more harm than good.

9) Snakes exist. Watch your back. I was told that I created an unsafe and toxic environment. And that there was anxiety in the room. I found this puzzling as there was an intimacy co-ordinator. I and the performers discussed what they are not comfortable doing. I took it in and accepted it. One performer said I never caused them any harm. And then another performer said they’ve rarely been anxious in the process, and asked who said that? Hmm. Interesting.

10) Have boundaries in place. This will be different for each person.

11) Making work in a pandemic is not the one. I hate having a plan B, but having a plan B will be so beneficial since we’re currently in a pandemic.

12) Expect to kiss ass a lot. People love to be complimented all of the time. Some people are not secure within themselves and need constant validation. But also collaborators could be out of their comfort zone and need reassurance that they're doing a good job.

13) Consider leadership of giving, instead of leadership of expectation. You may think you have given a lot, but continue to give more.

14) Just because something isn't clear to someone, doesn't mean it’s not clear. Some people are slow. Some people need time to catch up, even if it may take up until the last week of rehearsal. If someone says “none of this makes sense!” in the last week of rehearsal, you probably should’ve never worked with them in the first place.

15) If your project is ambitious be aware there could be bias, jealousy and resentment in the room. I say that because I'm a young, Black, queer, artistic director of my own company, and got just over 50k from Arts Council to make something, as well as commissioned on top of that. People be salty.

16) If you need to have a bitch, only bitch to someone that is completely outside of the process. Don't bitch to your colleagues.

17) People have certain views on power, and once you have it, people will treat you differently because of it. That's what comes with levelling up. But I felt powerless in my process.

18) Don’t work with friends. There can be a blurring that can become dangerous. And they might not take you seriously as a leader.

19) Making work is vulnerable and people show their vulnerabilities in different ways.

20) White people’s whiteness will pop out eventually. You may think you found good white people, ha. Watch it.

21) All skin-folk ain’t kinfolk. I thought my people (Black people) would have my back. I was wrong. Only two out of the seven did.

22) Just because someone says they can do something doesn’t mean they can. I thought I was working with people that could devise, they knew it was a devised process, it was mentioned in their contracts, but I kept getting looks from people like they were Alice in Wonderland. People lie because they want to be a part of something.

23) Work with people that already have an interest and experience engaging with African diaspora religions and BDSM. A lot of people are not about that life.

24) Some people are still very much colonised whether they realise it or not. People are freaked out about engaging with the dead. If you come across people like this, don’t work with them.

25) It doesn't take one person to create a toxic environment. It's a group effort.

26) People show up to work all the time, but it doesn't mean that their heart is truly in it.

27) Trust your gut. Don't let people gaslight you.

28) Repetition is necessary. However, if you’re still talking about that same thing in week 4 of the process, it’s starting to become a piss-take. I came across this lovely quote on Instagram:

“Stop over-explaining yourself.

If they wanted to understand, they would.” - The Pulp Girls

29) Work with people you are compatible with. Think of it as a romantic relationship, if it's working, yay. If it's not, it's not. It's time to move on.

30) If you check out mentally, don't let anyone try and take over the process, especially if you're Black and they are white. Watch out for the coloniser!

31) Not every idea needs to be a collaborative process. Some things just might be for you alone, and that’s okay. Fuck sharing shit with everyone. Because not everyone deserves it.

32) Mental health is tricky. There were access forms sent out to the team members. And no one mentioned issues with mental health, even though it was evident that it was present in the process. Some people will have difficulty being honest about any issues they have with mental health and that’s fine. People need things, but not everyone knows what they need.

33) Don’t take on too much. I was the lead artist, co-director and performer. I also took on some other roles when people couldn't come into the space due to illness, etc.

34) Things may seem way worse to other people than they do to you. And then here comes the white saviour to save the day because they think the space is unsafe due to their issues.

35) Listen. Don't take things personally and try not to get defensive. But expect people to take things personally and to get defensive.

36) If your mental health starts to take over - STOP. No work is worth this amount of stress. I nearly checked into a mental institution.

37) Don’t let people overstep their roles. No seriously, don’t. People get excited and carried away.

38) People have an agenda and will project their views onto things.

39) Make compromises but not to the point where you become numb to the work.

40) Have a mediator and therapist present in the process from the beginning. You can’t hold everything.

41) Trust in people but mostly trust in yourself. People are fickle.

42) People will bitch to you about one person, although will point the finger at you with them in a group setting.

43) You can always benefit from having more time and money. If you need more flexibility around when your work can be made, then you need more flexibility. Don’t work on an organisation’s schedule, work around what is best for you and the work.

44) Not everything is your job. But expect to be blamed for things that are not your job.

45) I thought that since I was working with adults, I shouldn’t have to check up on them to make sure they are doing their job. But I’ve learnt that you have to check up on people, even if they agreed to do some work by signing a contract. Line management is vital.

46) People find it difficult to express themselves. Create something that will help make it easier for them.

47) High school never ends. People change once they start getting closer to other people.

48) Don't be surprised that secret conversations about you are happening. I had a feeling this was going on, next thing you know I was having a conversation where my character was assassinated. I was unfairly compared to Chris Goode because I checked out of the process, and stepped back slightly from engaging with the performers. I was told that the process is like a Chris Goode process. For those of you who don't know, he was a theatre maker, who was an abuser, and predator and later was outed as a paedophile after he committed suicide. Even though I wasn't called those awful things, to me, you can’t separate the man from the process. And no one did or said anything to defend me, which led to me crying hysterically.

49) Don’t be surprised if you get ganged upon. If you ever feel unsafe in your process, do whatever it takes to protect yourself. Take from that what you will.

50) If anyone said or did something wrong to you in a process, never speak to them again. Okay, that was quite extreme. But make sure to take as much space from them as humanly possible.

This list is quite long. But the struggle was real. I am still learning and growing. This process has helped me become wiser in my approach to making work in the future. And I am determined to come back stronger. This is my experience, not saying this will be the same for anyone else.

I hope I haven't put anyone off of leading a big team. If you want to do this, I believe in you. Just make sure you have all of the support, time and the right team around you because I didn’t. And remember that you're human, not Superman, even if people want you to be.

J xx

1 note · View note

be-better-then-yesterday-you · 2 years

Text

I just …. cant with this Lady anymore …. Its like shes - intentionally trying to piss off fans of this show in general - not ONLY buddie fans.

The theme across interviews has been … “well in my head” and how she just sees it like “it got talked about offscreen” “i don’t see a reason for it to ever come up again” …. uh maybe because its A PART OF THE STORY?!

because thats what your SUPPOSED to be creating here lady! A story!

She seems legitimately pissed off that fans “see things that aren’t there” and are “interpreting it differently then what we’re meaning for them to” …. but at the same time not wanting to write a full story!

CLEARLY, you have all of these things in YOUR head that aren’t there. LITERALLY … And basically asking viewers to just write the rest of the story for themselves - BUT only the way you’ve written it in you’re head.

Don’t be pissy because fans of the show flesh out you’re story better then you!

She literally admitted that they shoved Taylor into the story where she didn’t belong - because Megan West was available to fill in when other actors fell through. No wonder her story felt so stiff and sudden and just uncomfortable at times …. it wasn’t supposed to be there! It felt forced because it was being forced! And while I’m not a fan of the character - there are people who are - so i wont attack her because this isn’t just about Buddie fans anymore - its about 911 fans! Megan West has taken so much negative critique over the fact that her character didn’t belong and how it didn’t make sense for to be apart of the particular story happening at the time …. And ill admit, the way she reacted bothered me … but…. How much can somebody actually take before they snap? I still don’t agree or like some of it but I do feel a little more sympathy for her …. It wasn’t her fault. She was doing her job … the writers not doing theirs is out of her control.

Then to say that there was more they had ALWAYS (not well she was available when nobody else was) wanted to do with the Taylor character …. To now reduce her to a catalyst for Bucks to ask himself if he’s SETTLING and to further reduce her to “she was there” …. Its so fucked up … and now they’re doing it again with the new character of Lucy … instead of making her her own character that we could become another Ravi or Albert … somebody who sticks around longterm – not “maybe till the end of the season” …. Another strong female firefighter … (nope cant have TWO longterm) shes going to be another Taylor, Lena, Ana or Shannon …. A Woman who they bring in to “shake things up” ( mind you this means in some-kind of sexual way for all but Lena) do something to advance Buck or Eddies character in some way … in this case for Buck to cheat on his girlfriend, lead her on, then realize HE is settling for HER… where he will then have his Eureka moment of oh we need to breakup … sorry your homeless now? And then move on to Lucy who he feels a spark with that he hasn’t felt in awhile ….

But Lucy is only going to be around until “around the end of the season” so that means she will just be there to give Buck what he needs to either feel better about himself or realizing he needs to work on himself (like Ana did for Eddie) and then poof, bye bye Lucy.

I keep seeing all of these posts about parallels between Bucks season 3 arc and Eddies season 5 arc but … I just don’t think that they’re putting that much thought into the story development anymore!

She literally said - “hopefully people will just forget about the wonkiness of the first half of the season” …. Lady, the “wonkiness” that you’re talking about was how out of character everyone was, how PAST STORYLINES AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT GOT FORGOTTEN - how the hell are you going to blame scheduling for the fact that you just threw out not only 4 1/2 seasons of Bucks character development by having him cheat on his girlfriend and then proceeding to not only not tell her but then go even further by asking her to move in with him - making her believe that he is in love with her and wants a future with her …. when literally only just - jesus - 10 -TEN! episodes ago he was sitting in front of Eddie telling him how he had been in Anas shoes - in love with somebody and knowing they weren’t all in and how much it hurts …. how staying with somebody - because your kid loves them (or because its the most functional relationship you’ve ever had or because she was … oh my god …. pre-sad and you didn’t want to hurt her ) isn’t enough. Meaning that this woman already put it out there into the world that that isn’t something Buck believes in …. I guess in her head he changed his mind offscreen …. or you know was just hoping that would be one of the wonky things we’d all forget about.

And part of the excuse for the first half of the season was scheduling right? So the response to that is add MORE characters … then to say .. well we have soooo many great actors and sooo many more that want to work with them … we don’t really have time for everyone to get screen-time. Ok … so … maybe … MAYBE – focus your attention on the characters who made the show? (who made your job) Whose stories pulled viewers back every week … who made fans fall in love with them and NOT on how many new characters you can create or big names you can pull. Stop writing 35 small storylines nobody has enough time or information to care about and focus on a few fleshed out INTERESTING ones that viewers will want to come back for …. Write a STORY – GROW your CURRENT characters don’t create throw away ones … go back and find the plot of what made not only this tvshow but the one that it got left in your hands for!

How was this woman put in charge of a show? I understand the whole time and two shows and everything … I get it – I understand it …. I do not understand the choice of her. Every-time this woman opens her mouth in an interview she insults SOMEBODY … I could actually feel the eye-roll when she was asked about who will be supporting Eddie through his breakdown … like ok we all get it lady you aren’t a fan of Buck and Eddie ever being together – trust us we ALL get it … calm down …. Nobody is personally attacking you by thinking “hey those two dudes would be good together. “ I don’t understand where her hostility is coming from. Even her answer about Tim Minear sounded aggressive to me …. Like … like she was upset somebody was pointing out (probably not intentionally) that she wasn’t 100% in charge. That she didn’t have final say …. And then to be like “and we don’t want Tim to die” …. Like … wow … I just …. Im both at a loss for words and have way too many … I mean I think this is … the longest thing I have ever written on here. I don’t normally … which is probably I have no clue how to fix the spacing on here … I am so sorry to anyone (if anyone) reading my rant. 1600+ words and still there is SOMETHING i know im forgetting … ugh its going to bug me … anyway…

Its just … it is very obvious that this woman is not a Drama writer …. She DOES NOT seem to be enjoying anything about it OTHER than – yeah I’m in charge now (mostly) so I can fuck with these characters however I want and say whatever I want … nobody can stop me …. It all feels very power-trippy to me …. Like … she got away with the lazy writing and story development (LACK OF!!!) in 5a and now she just thinks she can do whatever she wants with (TO!!!!!) the show because viewers LOVE these characters and actors! so much that …. We’ll just keep coming back. … the actors man … we all know how much they all love working on the show …. They make it so obvious when they don’t agree with, or understand their characters actions … and … if an actor doesn’t understand their character – ESPECIALLY one they have spent FOUR YEARS developing and becoming IT SHOWS! And if an actor becomes so frustrated with the lack of continuity in their character (this isn’t improve it’s a Drama television show!) they will eventually have to walk away … its their career …. No matter how much they love the show or character or fans ….

Anyway …. Like I said this woman whose name I cant even write because she makes me so angry … should not be in charge of this show … or even writing for it. She wants small short stories … to not have to remember thing like past storylines or plot or character development …. She does t even want to write for the same characters consistently but to have new character all the time – because that doesn’t need to be thought out …. Oh my god …. This woman needs to be writing for The Simpsons …

48 notes · View notes

hereforhalstead · 3 years

Text

“I’m all yours” Part 2

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

• Requested: Yes.

• Warnings: angst/Swearing/adult themes/unloving relationship/mentions of mental abuse

• Summary: Part 2 to “I’m all yours” as requested! You can find Part 1 here.

• Words: 6138

• A/N : Thanks so much for all the great feedback on it and for your continued support - hope you enjoy and that it lives up to part 1! Got the inspo from watching ‘Workin Moms’ on Netflix, highly recommend.. also as before, I do not condone cheating or the treatment of any relationship like this. My inbox is always open if you want to talk and I know it's very hard but remember you're worthy and you deserve the best. Please do not hesitate to let me know if anything in this is too close to the mark as that’s the last thing I want (i might be reading too deep into this but want to be sure I’ve made myself clear

***

“Jay. I need you in here with me” Voight swings the door open, forcing Jay to release you from his tight grasp and turn his back to you as if he didn’t have you pinned to the wall whispering into your ear a few seconds ago.

“Am I interuppting something here?” his gruff voice questions to which you shake your head “Right well come on Halstead, you’re with me” Voight exits the room, allowing you to finally release the smirk you’d been witholding. Jay turns back to you, running a hand along his jawline as he chuckles but you can still see the hunger behind his eyes as he winks “To be continued”.

You take a moment to yourself, running your hand through your hair before allowing yourself to lean your back against the wall to take the weight off. It all seemed to happen so fast that you could barely recollect the situaion but all you knew was you hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. That passion building, waiting for the other to lean in first, the way your skin burns when he touches you and the rate your heart is beating even after he’s no longer here was enough to solidify how bad you wanted him and even better, he wanted you more.

You watch through the one sided glass as Jay and Voight enter the room, Jay now looking as stern as ever, a complete 180 from the man who was just stood before you. He bores his eyes down onto the suspect and you feel your stomach flip at the mere sight of the way he leans his hands down on the desk and towers over the man, finding yourself instinctively chewing at your bottom lip and consumed by thoughts you shouldn't be having at your place of work about your partner.

You continue to watch, time flying by as you sit back and watch Jay do what he does best but despite how well he can calm Voight down it wasn’t working. Voight was loosing it which was spurring the suspect on to act more of an idiot by the minute, clearly getting some form of pleasure of out of he was getting under Voight’s skin.

“Sarge, can we step outside a moment?” Jay interupts Voight who currently had the suspect by the collar of his shirt, his eyes dart to Jay and then back to the man who was laughing in his face. You actually felt for the guy, not knowing what he was letting himself in for but also not being jealous of the pair of them currently trying to interrogate him but clearly failing. Voight shoves the suspect back into the chair and storms out of the room to be shortly followed by Jay, you watch as the man seems to stare directly at you and even though you know he can’t see you, you still feel the chills run down your spine at the emptiness behind his eyes and the slight smile he has on his lips.

You hear Voight and Jay exchanging heated words just outside the door and you flinch when the door to the room you were in swings open “Y/N, you’re up” Voight orders and you instantly feel sick that you would have to face the suspect who clearly had no means of confessing. Normally you’d stand up for yourself but the way Voight held his fists at his sides and the vein throbbing in his neck it was hardly the situation to argue so you did as you were told. Voight takes your place observing and you exit the room to be met by Jay leaning back against the wall, passing you the file as you approach him “you got this?” he asks with a slightly raised brow, you nod and try to ignore the hand he places on your lower back to usher you into the room with a hushed chuckle “you’re the only one I can rely on these days”.

You didn’t have the most experience when it came to interviews so whenever you were in this room you felt on edge, let alone when you know Voight is burning his eyes into your back and watching like a hawk, but something about Jay being by your side made it that tiniest bit easier. You begin to probe the suspect who was now slouching back in his chair, clearly also at ease by the lack of Voight’s presence and you sat across from him instead. You felt ill at the way he was looking at you and the way Jay’s muscles were tightening as he glared at the suspect didn’t go unnoticed either. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing” he comments with a grossly inapropriate smile and you scoff “Don’t look at her, look at me” Jay extends his arm across the desk to get his attention but it doesn’t work so he’s on his feet and leaning over the suspect in seconds “Lose the grin, or I will lose it for you”.

You cough to break the tension, already predicting Voight would crash through the door at any moment to stop the interview but luckily there was no sign. You continued your questioning and it was clear neither of you could get through to him “I can’t be asked to sit here and let you waste my time” you sigh, standing from your seat and grabbing the file to exit “leaving so soon, pretty girl? that’s a shame” he comments and you shake your head with a pity laugh. “Where you’re going, you’ll be the pretty girl” you comment, smile spread as his face drops and you see Jay cover a smirk with his hand “she’s not wrong” he shrugs his shoulders, also standing from his seat to join you in leaving the room “enjoy your time in there buddy” he pats him on the shoulder as he passes “you’re gonna need it”.

You walk down the corridor with Jay, still laughing between yourselves but a sudden silence when Voight appears before you “What the hell was that?” he barks as you stand wide eyed but luckily Jay speaks for you “he’ll confess Sarge, we just need to let him sit” he reassures but Voight wasn’t satisfied “we don’t have time to let him sit Jay, you’re all gonna swan off to this party tonight so we need to get him by then” he demands “What like you’ve always got them to confess the first time?” he comments under his breath and Voight see’s red.

“I think you need to remember who you’re talking to Detective” he presses his finger into Jay’s chest and you step in “Sarge, you just gotta trust us. We know what we’re doing” you can see he is slightly taken back by the way you defend Jay but he isn’t shocked “just get it done” he groans before storming back into his office to leave you and Jay alone again. "thanks” Jay mumbles, frustration laced through his whisper, you lay your hand on his back and you notice him slightly relax under your touch as you offer him a reassuring smile and a shrug of your shoulder “always”.

***

Tonight was some big police annual gala and usually you were buzzing for it but tonight just wasn’t the night for it. You and Jay had spent hours trying to break down the walls of the suspect only for it to get you no where, you felt defeated and tensions were running high. It fell to Voight and Olinsky to eventually crack him but after some of their ‘persuasion’ of course.. This left you feeling not as guilty for not getting to him as they clearly used different methods to you and Jay so were incomparable in terms of techniques.

Even when you had a spare minute to yourself you find yourself replaying what happened with Jay in the observation room, the way he had you pinned and the hunger you could see and feel in the way he grabbed you set something off inside you. You’d barely been alone with him since then due to the busyness of the case but the occasional glances and minor touches as you passed his desk was making the tension unbareable but you still couldn’t ignore the pit in the bottom of your stomach. You still had somewhat of a boyfriend, even if he was a piece of shit who didn’t make you feel wanted, he was still your boyfriend and to your annoyance it wasn’t sitting right with you.

Jay was everything you needed and you knew he could give you everything you wanted and so much so that it scared you. He was perfect in your eyes and you felt as though you didn’t deserve him, you’d never be able to tell him this as you knew he wouldn’t stand for it but you couldn’t help the way you felt. You were so defeated that you felt as though you deserved a trashy relationship and weren’t good enough to be with someone like Jay. This made you feel worse as no matter how much you desired him you still couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

You tried to rack your brain to think of the last time your boyfriend Mike had made you feel half as good as Jay does but you couldn’t even think of anything close. You were trying so hard to give him an inch of self worth but there was nothing, he hadn’t made you feel wanted or even like he loved you yet you still felt bad for showing interest in Jay. You’d have to put your feelings for your partner to one side and no matter how impossible it seemed you’d try to convince yourself he wasn’t for you.

You’d managed to escape the district without anyone seeing you and by anyone you meant Jay. Unlocking your car and dumping your bag into the back, you jump when you see Jay standing there as you slam the truck down in frustration “You trying to kill me?” you hit his shoulder as you pass but he doesn’t move, instead his eyes scan as you slightly graze him to try and get to the passenger side “You’re just gonna leave without saying anything?” you could feel your heart pull at the hurt behind his words, the concern sweeping across his brows and the way he held his hands together like he did when he was nervous. “I need to get ready for tonight” you fake smile but he wasn’t buying it.

“So you’re going back to him?” he kicks a stone on the ground and you follow his gaze as he looks back up at you “I don’t have a choice Jay” you plead, causing him to cup your cheeks in his hands to force you to look at him “Of course you have a choice Y/N. You always have a choice” he reassures but you stand in silence, unsure how to respond “If you’re scared of him, I’ll come back with you or hell I’ll go and collect your stuff for you and you can stay with me for a bit” he runs his thumb gently across your cheek and for that split second you can’t hold back your desires as you find yourself leaning into him.

You manage to catch yourself and put your hands against his chest to stop “It was a mistake Jay, I’m sorry for leading you on but it’s not gonna happen”.

You pull yourself away from him and open the passenger door to get inside before he has a chance to pull you back “ That’s bullshit and you know it Y/N” he leans against your door, speaking through your car window but you keep your eyes focused on turning the key to start the engine before mumbling “I’m sorry” and driving away.

You look into your mirror, watching as Jay stands there defeated with his hands hung low and his head dipped “You’re a fucking idiot Y/N” you curse yourself before taking another look in the mirror to see Jay was gone.

***

You flicked through the dresses in your wardrobe, really not being in the mood for the party was in a strange was urging you to put more effort in to hope it would lift your spirits. You’d poured yourself a few glasses of your favourite mixer and had some music playing in the background to assist in your motivation. Of course you were home alone, what else is new..

You were used to coming home to an empty apartment, after moving in with Mike after just a few dates there was always such excitement to return from work to see him lounging on the sofa and ready to engulf you in his arms but that didn’t last long. He would be out until late, without even so much of a text message which would leave you sitting around waiting before eventually giving up in the small hours of the morning to retire to bed alone. You found it funny at this point, the classic ‘gotta laugh or you’ll cry’ really was how you dealt with it and you thought that was for the best.

You’d stumbled upon a little satin black dress that you’d bought for your birthday last year but due to staying late at work you never got the chance to wear it so it would be perfect for tonight. After a little touch of make up and keeping your hair simple you stopped to examine yourself in the mirror and for the first time in a while you were surprsingly pleased at who was looking back at you. You’d hardly bothered with your appearance anymore, going out to a party was a rareity so it always did seem to take you back a bit when you looked like this and you were feeling good.

After taking another sip of your drink your mind started to wander, Jay creeping up behind you and snaking his arms round your waist as you admire yourself. His lips pressing into your neck as he whispers into your ear of how good you look and how lucky he is to have you sent the chills down your spine. You’d wrap your hands around Jay’s forearms as he trails his lips along your shoulder, lifting your hair to the other side to allow him access to your exposed skin as he nips lightly at the corner to make you giggle.

You were so lost in your thoughts that when the door slammed you almost dropped your drink in fright, you quickly downed the remainder before heading out of the bedroom and into the main open place space. Running your hands over your dress to smooth out any creases you look up to see Mike ripping the tie from around his neck and shoving it onto the counter. You stand in the doorway, waiting to see if he notices you and gives you the attention you now so desperately crave, even if it wasn’t from him.

Instead, he heads for the kitchen and pours himself a drink, takes the glass and slumps on the sofa without so much as a second look at you. You clear your throat to get him to look up but still nothing. With your hands on your hips you strut over to stand in front of the TV so he had no choice but to see you blocking his view. He takes a sip from the glass and shrugs, still trying to look round you to see the pointless comedy show that was playing on the screen “going somewhere?” he questions, eyes still averted from you. You lean into your hip and raise your brows down at him “It’s the gala? You’re meant to be my plus one?”. He takes another sip with a shake of his head “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

This is the first time you’ve spoken in hours and he already has that look of grimace on his face, looking straight through you as if you’re not even there. Luckily, the liquid courage had made it easier to deal with as you let his words bounce off you, the thoughts of Jay quickly making their way back into your mind. How his jaw would drop if he walked through the door and you greeted him like this, infact even if you were in joggers and a sweater he would still tell you how gorgeous you looked. He’d wrap you in his arms, running his fingertips up and down your sides as he admired his girl standing in front of him with the confidence that no matter how many guys drooled over her she would still go back to him. You wanted to be that girl.

“Just change your shirt, we’re leaving in 5 minutes” you demand, heading into the kitchen yourself to grab yourself another drink as you had a feeling you’d be needing it. You hear him grumble something as he clambers from the sofa and drags himself into the bedroom, a part of you shocked he actually did as he was asked but the other part regretting reminding him as the thought of spending the night alone with Jay was sounding all the more tempting.

A few moments go by and you’re sitting at the table waiting for him, legs swinging with your head resting on your hand as your mind is clouded with the thoughts of the all too familiar detective. Was he going to be wearing a suit? Would he need help choosing a shirt and tie combo? You’d sit on the bed as he’d groan into the mirror when he couldn’t work out which one looked better. Turning to you to ask for your opinion as you tie the best looking one round his neck, feeling his breath on your lips as he glares intently down at you. His hands finding their way to your hips as you button the top few buttons of his shirt up before hooking his collar back over the tie. Feeling him watching you’re every move as his grasp on you tightens, sitting back down onto the bed to pull you onto his lap. You swing your legs over each of his as he leans back and pulls you on top of him, his arms keeping you on him as you try to escape as you tease about how you were going to be late-

“How’s this?” a voice interrupts your thoughts, looking up to see Mike in a fresh white shirt tucked into black jeans “No tie?” you ask, slightly dissapointed but he scoffs “It’s not that fancy, don’t know why you’re so dressed up” he comments, feeling the all too normal pit in your stomach as you brush it off “lets go then so we can get this over with”.

From the moment you arrived you felt on edge, you hadn’t seen Jay yet and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart dropped at the thought of him not being there. Deep down he was the only reason you’d dressed up, the motivation for you to be there and the only thing you could look forward to was seeing him but still no sign. You were stood at the bar, watching as Mike eyed up every girl that passed like they were piece of meat and it made you feel sick.

You stood chatting with Kim who was soon joined by Adam, draping his arm round her waist as they stood opposite you to make conversation. You could feel Mike wasn’t paying attention and had even taken a seat at one of the bar stools so he wasn’t even part of the conversation. You couldn’t help the thoguhts drift back into your mind, how you knew if you were with Jay he would proudly have his arm round you when you were at an event or even have his hand protecvitely resting on your lower back to let you know he was still there as a form comfort. He’d whisper in how he can’t wait to get you alone, making you giggle as his breath hits your ear to make the hairs on your neck stand on edge. He’d love to tell people how you met at work but always knew there was something more, others would comment on how smitten he was with you and how he looked at you with those doting eyes like you were his whole world and he wanted everyone to know.

Kim hits your arm in laughter to bring you out of your thoughts but Adam was looking like he could murder. Glaring at Mike like he wanted to lay into him, scoffing at the disrespect and the poor way he was treating his friend. You slightly dreaded how Jay would react and honestly hoped they wouldn’t see each other but it was too late.

You were chatting away, in efforts to try and distract Adam from the way Mike was behaving when you saw him appear through the crowd from over Adam’s shoulder. It was like a cliche movie, you zoned into him like he was the only one in the room, Kim’s words fading into the background as you could almost hear the laughter falling from his lips as he engages in conversation. You suddenly felt safe, like you knew nothing would happen to you as long as he was there and you just wanted to be tucked under his arm for the rest of the night but you had to play it cool.

Watching as he heads towards you, drink in one hand with the other stuffed in his pants pocket. The crisp black shirt that was paired with a black tie finished it off, that man could look good in anything but seeing him in all black flicked a switch inside you and gave you that all too familiar feeling of the craving you had for him. His eyes widened when he saw you standing there, roaming your body and admiring every inch before Adam nudged him to get his attention “Bro, you didn’t look at me like that” he acted hurt, his hands on his heart as he pleaded “I just want Halstead to look at me like he looks at Y/N. Is that too much to ask?” he pretends to wipe a tear as you roll your eyes “Look like that in a dress and I’ll think about it” Jay comments, still with his gaze on you as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks “You look alright too I guess” you tease but this is when Mike decides he finally wants to join in.

“You must be Jack” he extends his hand out to Jay who looks at him with a laughter in disgust “It’s Jay” he grimaces a smile and you try to hide yours by taking another sip of your drink. Mike drops his hand as Jay doesn’t meet his gesture as Kim breaks the silence “Who wants another drink?” she asks and you raise your empty glass “You’ve had enough, don’t want you making a fool of yourself” Mike mocks, expecting others to laugh at his comment but no one does.

You notice Jay’s fists clench at his sides and if Adam didn’t look happy before, he certaintly doesn’t now. Kim places a hand to his arm to calm him down and you only wish you could do the same to Jay but instead you watch as he eyes Mike, only imagining the thoughts that were going through his head as his nostrils flare. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom” Mike announces before excusing himself, leaving you stood in silence as Kim hands you another drink with that familiar sympathetic smile “I’m gonna kill him” Adam scoffs and Jay hums in agreement “You’re telling me”.

It had been a while since Mike left your side, you’d barely noticed until Kim commented on how long he had been. You took a quick scan of the room but couldn’t see him anywhere and it’s like the feeling in your gut was trying to tell you something as you find yourself heading towards the bathroom before you can think. You march your way through the people, ignoring the calls from behind you and too focused on what you knew you were about to see. You slam the stall doors open one by one but he wasn’t there, a sigh of relief as you didn’t want to catch him out at one of your work parties was soon ruined as you hear a moan coming from down the hall. You storm towards the noises, blocking them out as you get closer and turn the corner to see Mike holding an unfamiliar girl up against the wall with her dress hiked up around her waist.

You can’t move. As much as you want to scream and run, it’s like your feet are glued to the floor and you can’t move an inch. Instead you stand and watch them all over each other, him with a dare you say smile on his face as their lips intertwine. A sudden noise from behind you forces him to look in your direction, doing the quickest double take when he see’s you standing there but he still didn’t stop. Instead he dug his head further into her shoulder with every thrust, stopping to look up at you with an evil glint in his eye as he clearly enjoyed the fact you’d caught him and wanted you to watch.

You finally come to your senses and headed back to the bar, no urgency in your walk, anger in your head or even tears in your eyes as you kept your head high and acted as if nothing has happened. As you approach you see the heads turn to you with concern “Where the hell were you?” Kim questions with a hushed tone “Did you find him?”. You shake your head “Want me and Jay to go and look for him?” Adam suggests and you chuckle “If I want to find a body in the river tomorrow, I’ll give you a shout”.

You down your drink in one as Adam and Kim resume their conversation, Jay brings himself over to you and rests his hand on your lower back as he leans into you “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asks and you nod “like you wouldn’t believe”. He keeps his hand pressed into your back as he guides you out of the room and towards the exit into the majestic grounds of the hall. You can’t help but constantly look through the faces to try and spot Mike but there was no sign, probably still with that girl in the bathrooms or even better he’s taken her home to the apartment you shared and was fucking her into your bedspread.

As soon as the fresh air hits you it feels like a sigh of relief, it was just you and Jay with no one else around, a complete contrast from the noisy crowded party and you wouldn’t want it any other way. There was a side to you that wanted to blurt it all out, knowing Jay would storm in there and lay into Mike was something you really wanted to see. The anger rising in his body as he clenches his fists, the vein in his neck popping as you confess or the desperation in his eyes as he asks you to tell him where he is, but there was the other side that wanted to keep it bottled up.

You knew the second option was wrong as it would just be another plan of self destruction and there was no way you could go back to that apartment tonight. There was only one person you knew you wanted to leave with and that same person was now the only one standing before you.

‘Fuck it’ you thought to yourself and there it was, the moment you built up the courage to push your lips onto his. His arms clung at your waist from the sudden contact, pulling you into him but soon retracting when he realised what was happening “What’s going on? You sa-” he began but you leant in to try and cut him off but he wasn’t having it. His hand was still pressed into your back so you were inches apart, his eyes flicking between your lips and back up to your eyes but he was trying to control himself and make sure it was what you wanted. Normally this would make your legs weak at how sweet and considerate you knew he was but you needed him, you longed for him, you craved him and now you had the fear he didn’t want you.

“You said you didn’t want this?” he questions with a huff “I was lying” you smile “I want you. You know I want you Jay” you yet again lean into him but he puts his hands on your waist firmly to keep you apart “Has something happened?”. Without words he already knows, the way your breath hitches and you harshly swallow was enough to set off the rage in him “Did he do something to you?” you can see his temper rising while trying to stay calm for you “Did he hurt you Y/N?”.

The panic sets in as you see his anger grow “I swear to god Y/N, if he laid a single finger on you”. You instinctively put your hand to his cheek to ground him “Jay he hasn’t touched me” you reassure, wording it carefully to not say ‘he hasn’t hurt me’ as after what you’ve just seen that would take a certain person to not be hurt. He relaxes ever so slightly under your touch and confession but he was still rigid, the frustration running through his body as he tries to scan your face for answers but you’re giving him nothing.

“Can we just forget him?” you try to push past it, moving your hand down his chest and fiddling with one of the buttons “Or do you not want me?” the crack in your voice kills him, there shouldnt be a shadow of doubt in your mind about how bad he wants you, he’s needed you for so long that he should be taking you to be his right now but there was something stopping him.

“Of course I want you Y/N, are you kidding?” he grips at your waist to further cement his words “I want you so fucking bad that you’re all I can think about” he groans as you pull him closer to you by his shirt collar and just as your lips are about to meet you hear that all too familiar voice call out for you from inside the party. Your head snaps round so fast you’re surpsied you didn’t pull a muscle and the grip on Jay’s collar tells him you dont want to see Mike.

He switches the position so he was closest to the door, his body shielding you as you cower behind him as he was the only one he could trust to protect you and be the one between you and Mike.

Mike spots you through the door, clutching onto Jays shirt like your life depended on it but not in a way through fear. You weren’t scared of him as you knew nothing would happen to you as long as Jay was there but it was through a nervousness as you just wanted to forget the situation ever happened and just cut ties but he clearly wasn’t feeling the same way. He points his finger to you as he storms through the open doors, cursing yourself for having left them open as he may not have though to look out if they were closed.

“Turn around and head back inside” Jay warns, keeping one hand behind his back and ensuring you stayed there “Get away from my girlfriend buddy” Mike scoffs which amuses Jay as he smirks “Sorry that’s my fault for not being clear. Turn around. Head home and stay the fuck away from her”.

You step around Jay but he still keeps an arm on you which you’re more that grateful for “Was she good?” you ask, confidence rising knowing he could no longer bilittle you how he pleased “What?” he questions and you roll your eyes “How was she? Tight enough for you?” you notice Jay straighten up beside you, clearly realizing what’s happened and increasing his anger and determination to end the man standing in front of him.

You place a hand to Jay’s upper arm and squeeze lightly in reassurance. “Go home, I’ll send for my stuff” you scorn but Mike doesn’t move “I don’t know if you heard her but she said go home” Jay takes a step towards him and as much as you trust Jay and know how he acts, this is the first time you’ve questioned if he will be able to stop himself. “You really don’t want me to tell you again” Jay threatens, Mike matches Jay’s step and closes the gap between them when you interject and stand between the pair with a hand on each of their chests.

Looking up to see the fear in Mike’s eyes but the anger and darkness behind Jay’s “Go. Home” you instruct to Mike who pauses for a second to look down at you and then back up to Jay “You’re lucky she’s here otherwise you wouldn’t live to see another day” Jay smirks, putting an emphasis on every word he spits out at Mike.

The three of you stand in silence, watching as Mike and Jay stare at each other was laughable. Mike didn’t stand a single chance again Jay on a normal day let alone now, he was full of rage and needed an outlet so you feel a sigh of relief when Mike takes a step back and turns to head back inside “If I hear you’ve even breathed near her. I promise it will be the last breath you ever take” Jay calls out to him, his lips puling in an evil smile to which you hit him on the chest. His expression soon changes when he looks down at you and you feel your heart skip a beat, the vengeance in his eyes that told you the inner battle to control himself was getting impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out, the least of what you were expecting him to say, the softness as he reaches to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and continuing to trace your jawline with his fingertips. You loop your arms around his neck, leaving one to pull him closer to you as his arms find their way back to your hips with an urgency “I don’t want your sorry” you comment, his thumb runs along your bottom lip as he lightly tugs on the corner at the roughness of his skin “I want you”.

He didn’t need telling twice, his grip on your waist pulled you onto him. Your legs wrapping round his waist as he steaded you against the wall, rocking his hips into yours as his lips made their way along your collarbone to lightly nip at the skin causing you to yelp “I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated” he moaned into the crook of your neck with another light blow to the now damp skin from his lips “and we both know, it will be only me that can show you that”.

Tag list

@halsteadlover • @musicismyescape27 • @i-like-sparkly-things • @stephanie708 • @upsteadlovingheart

Inbox and requests open🥰

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #one chicago x reader #jay halstead x you

292 notes · View notes

chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Nate the Great

Hello, I am here because I cannot stop thinking about Nathan Shelley and the many things that are Happening with him. Spoiler-cut for spoilers through Ted Lasso 2x8 and speculation based on conversations w/@bristler, other people in the fandom, a really great interview with Nick Mohammed, and the endless barrage of thoughts in my head!

In 1x7, when Nate gets his chance to roast the players before their match in Liverpool, I both delighted and cringed at the moment. Nate's big moment gets the intended results--he riles up the players by hitting them where it hurts, and that energy nets Ted and the team a much-needed win. But I've always felt that part of why Nate is allowed to deliver his speech in such an uncensored way has a lot to do with Ted's shame that he got drunk and snapped at Nate the night before. It took vulnerability for Nate to decide to slip his thoughts about the team underneath Ted's door, and Ted wasn't in a position to recognize that act for what it was; Ted makes Nate feel weak, and that's got to be crushing coming from someone who's become a mentor and friend. At the same time, Ted is starting to evolve into a person who understands winning is important, so he makes the call that's going to help the team win...and ends up unwittingly rewarding the crueler parts of Nate in the process.

Fast forward to season 2, and Nate still hasn't learned the difference between vulnerability and weakness. The people in his life who understand the difference haven't fully comprehended how much Nate needs to learn it, and they haven't taught him, and Nate's own feelings of self-worth are so bound up in external factors that he's not able to pick it up by osmosis, either.

So now I can't stop thinking about the moment in 2x8 when Higgins and the coaches huddle before the big match and Ted tells everyone he's been having panic attacks. Everyone goes around and spontaneously shares something they've been keeping to themselves, and each person's admission feels like an act of solidarity. Vulnerability. But Nate sees weakness, and his own admission is actually about his ability to be calculating--his ability to make an idea feel spontaneous.

I keep imagining a moment when fame- and power-hungry Nate gets an opportunity to be in the spotlight, and I imagine another moment like the locker room scene in 1x7. A moment with spontaneous-feeling energy that's actually totally calculated. And this time, instead of a cringe-y moment easily forgotten because it brought victory, this moment could be devastating and profoundly regrettable.

Because what if Nate tells the press his own version of the vulnerable stories his friends and colleagues shared in confidence. The weak versions of their vulnerability.

In my imagined version of Nate's words to the press, Ted isn't a man seeking treatment for his panic disorder; he's unfit to coach due to untreated mental illness. Roy isn't an impatient person who doesn't bother to read the coaching reports Ted, Beard, and Nate put together; he's a star whose ego allows him to coast on fame without having to bother with the details of the team. Higgins isn't a harried, office-less professional who messed up a timezone; he's inept and in over his head and sabotaged the roster of the team. Beard isn't a normally-perceptive coach who made a mistake with the mushroom tea because he's being abused by his girlfriend and lacks his usual support system; he's a drug user who lets his personal relationships get in the way of his professional responsibilities.

There's a grain of truth to everything Nate says, but he's lacking the spirit of why he has this information, the context of vulnerability, the preciousness of this one oasis of connection between coaches who are currently disjointed.

I know there's a lot of talk about the relationship between Sam and Rebecca and the Dubai Air and Bantr sponsorships and how those could be a big issue in the press. I definitely think that's a big possibility, but everyone involved in that subplot has a support system. They have a place to land no matter how bad things get, and the show already does a great job depicting how incredibly cruel and unfair the British press can be about personal matters.

This stuff with Nate, though...while the coaches do have a support system and people they can trust, all those connections seem so much more tenuous. And Nate isn't able to trust anyone right now, least of all himself. So the more abusive he gets, he could really fuck a lot of people over, and he might be the one who gets the most hurt in the end.

There's a lot to appreciate about the interview with Nick Mohammed linked above, but I want to particularly call out the fact that he points out that in s1, when he's angry with Rebecca, he calls her a "shrew." I knew that wasn't just a throwaway line, a moment of casual misogyny overlooked, somehow, by the multi-gender writers' room. It was absolutely intentional, absolutely a sign of how far he can go even on a dime when he's upset. He also points out the importance of Rebecca telling him early in s2 that he deserves what he wants. Imagine the irony of that coming back to haunt her if Nate betrays the team (and Rebecca by extension), or if he hurts Rebecca again more personally. I also appreciate that Mohammed lets us know that he's not going to die in season 2 and that he has a storyline in season 3.

I just think there's going to be a lot of pain on the way there.

(This show is so good. Even if it goes nothing like what I'm predicting here, I have every confidence that the betrayal arc is going to be intense and earned.)

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #ted lasso speculation #nick mohammed #nathan shelley #meta by me #ted lasso 2x8

96 notes · View notes

writernada · 3 years

Text

10 Times Yuzuru Hanyu Was Inspiring

Yuzuru Hanyu (26 years old) is a Japanese figure skater. He is a two-time Olympic champion, two- time World champion, Four Continent champion, four times Grand Prix Final champion and five times national champion. He is the only male skater that has achieved a grand slam (won all major competitions in both junior and senior circus). In 2018, he won the People's Honor Award given by the Japanese Prime Minister and became the youngest recipient of this award. He also won the award of the most valuable skater at the International Skating Union Awards for the season 2019-2020. Since his debut in the senior circus in 2011-2012 and until now, Yuzuru's performances have always made a great impact on the audience; allowing him to have the biggest fan base ever in the history of figure skating. His fans are not only from Japan but from all around the world; including other skaters and coaches. The reason behind all of this love is that Yuzuru touches the hearts by performing like an artist, hitting every note, being super passionate about what he does and combining a competitive spirit with a sport soul. On top of all of that, he has an ability to inspire people. His road has never been easy. It is full of injuries, surgeries, illnesses, strong competitors, mistakes and losses. However, he always perserves, pushes through his limits, overcomes adversity and rises in an inspiring way.

Here are the ten times Yuzuru Hanyu was an icon of inspiration:

1- Winning his first medal in the World Championship in 2012 despite having an injury and low stamina.

In his debut in the World championship (senior circus) in 2012, Yuzuru (17) sprained his right ankle during the official practice the day before the short program. His foot swelled up but he decided not to withdraw, taking into account all the effort he has made for this competition and all the people who came here for him (coach, mom and officials). He went ahead and competed. He was ranked seventh in the short program, third in the free program and third overall, winning the bronze medal.

Yuzuru commented on that competition in his autobiography book "Aoi Hono ll":

"Because I was injured the day before the short, I felt that even in that kind of situation 'I landed my quad, I did well’. I felt that I had worked really hard by myself. However, my mother told me, "That is wrong.” Getting injured was my own fault, but there were many people who helped and supported me. That is the reason why I could come to this point. Until about 9 o'clock that night, we were talking about this while having dinner, and in the end, I realized that my thinking was wrong."

Yuzuru was about to get full of himself and let arrogance take over him. However, his mother helped him stay grounded. Thus, he was able to face the free program with a humble attitude. He put out a passionate performance that many people still remember until this day and consider as one of their favorites. During that performance, he tried not to put a lot of pressure on the injured foot so he shifted all the pressure on the other one until it got exhausted and gave up on him. As a result, he fell all of a sudden in the middle of the performance, but he managed to get up right away and perform a great jump right after.

In his autobiography book that was mentioned earlier, Yuzuru talked about this fall and said: "Later, when I watched the videos, I saw that the fall did not take up much time. I was standing up again quickly. But to me, it felt like a long time. When I fell, the feeling was like flying mid-air. Like this (he re-enacts the fall in slow motion), 'ahh, I am stumbling~~’ (laughs). After the fall, I was thinking 'what should I do from here’, many thoughts circled around. Thinking that I won’t make it in time for the next axel jump, I shortened the path by going straight instead of curved. I can jump even a 3A+3A (in practice), so I thought I will be alright. (laughs)”.

One of the most exciting moments during the performance is when Yuzuru shouted out aloud before the choreographic sequence. The shout seemed like a great expression of the emotions of his character (Romeo). It made him look like he was totally into character. However, he clarified that it was unintentional. He said: "I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so I thought, for now just let the breath out. (laughs)"

Yuzuru is known to be suffering from asthma and because of it he had a low stamina at the time. However, even after finding out that the shout wasn't done to express the character's emotions, viewers still find it impactful because it is a genuine expression of Yuzuru's fight against his limits.

That night, Yuzuru made a name for himself internationally. He shed tears of happiness after getting his scores and so did his coach. He also got praised by the winner that night who said: "the one shining the most is Yuzuru".

2- Breaking a World Record and winning gold in his first participation in the winter Olympic Games.

At the age of 19, Yuzuru participated for the first time in the Olympic Games. Young male skaters like him who participate for the first time usually don't dare to dream about winning. The big scale of the competition gets athletes nervous and shaken, even the great and experienced ones of them. Therefore, the young newcomers usually consider their first participation as an experience to have under their belt while preparing for the next Olympic. However, Yuzuru was determind to win. His choreographer at the time, David Wilson, talked about his intense determination in an interview: "he wrote me an email letter that was so touching. He was like please help me do this because I'm ready. I'll do anything. I will die. I'll do anything to be the Olympic Champion. I don't want to wait until 2018. I want it now and I'll do anything. I'm willing to die for it. Anything you tell me, I'll do it but help me."

David Wilson talking about Yuzuru's determination to win the 2014 Olympics

Yuzuru performed a marvelous short program and came out of the rink saying: "I did it!" to which his coach replied: "you certainly did". He broke the world record in his first participation at the Olympics despite his young age. He did get nervous and made mistakes at the free program. However, what he did in the short program was enough to bring him the gold medal and make him achieve his childhood dream.

Yuzuru (11) saying that his dream is to win the Olympics

Yuzuru performing his short program at the 2014 Olympics:

Other Skaters reacting to Yuzuru's World Record at the Olympics:

The moment when Yuzuru finds out he won the 2014 Olympics:

3- Continuing to compete after a pretty bad collusion with another skater during Cup of China 2014:

In 2014, Yuzuru took part in Cup of China, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series. Yuzuru was in second place after the short program and during the 6 minuets warm up before the long program he had an accident. He collided with the Chinese skater Han Yan. They were looking at opposite sides and couldn't see each other until it was too late.

Yuzuru talked about the incident in his autobiography book and said: "My stomach hit the ice (when I fell) and so it felt like I received a body blow. My stomach was hurting so much; I could not breathe nor get up. Then, when I tried standing up, my chin was hurting and bleeding. My head was panicking and I didn’t know exactly where all the pain was coming from."

After a few minutes, Yuzuru stood up on his own despite the arrival of medical helpers. He preferred to exit the rink on his own instead of being carried. Backstage, he was examined and given first aid by American doctors.

The Collusion incident at CoC 2014:

In his biography book, Yuzuru gave some details about what happened backstage after the incident:

"I really gave a lot of trouble to the people around me. They told me ‘Don’t compete’. The doctors also said, 'It is not a concussion, so it is possible to skate but we do not recommend it.’Coach Orser also said, 'Now you don’t need to be a hero. You still have more after this, you still can do a lot as a skater.’But 'it has nothing to do with that. I will skate because I want to go to GP Final.’ I think I might have said that to him in Japanese. I wanted to go to the Final somehow. Here, 5th or 4th place is good enough, I can get 1st place in the next competition, so for now I just want to remain connected. If I compete at GPF, I definitely want to have a second consecutive victory. I also want to win the triple crown again (Worlds, GPF, Nationals). I had those kind of thoughts. Now when I look back I think, 'ah I skated well’."

Yuzuru decided to skate his free program and the people around him respected his decision and allowed him to go. He made sure to meet Han Yan before competing again and they exchanged apologies. After that, Yuzuru showed up in the rink with a bandage on his head and a small band on his chin. He skated his free program bravely after making some changes on the layout to adjust to his condition. He fell on five jumps but did full rotations and got grades for that. He also was able to land some jumps in the latter half of the program, which got him extra points. After the performance, his coach Orser was worried about his feelings if he gets a bad score for falling five times so he was preparing him mentally by saying stuff like: "scores don't matter. What matter is what you did out there" but it turned out Orser had nothing to worry about as Yuzuru received a high score. Yuzuru was so surprised and relieved when he saw his score and he burst into tears after holding on for a long time. He won the silver medal in that event.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at CoC 2014:

After the competition, American doctors prepared the massage room to do stitches for Yuzuru. He received 7 stitches on his chin with anesthetics and 3 staples on his head without any anesthetics, which was really painful to him! The next day, he traveled to Japan for a medical examination in a trip that he described as hell. The result of the examination was "head contusion (or bruise), chin contusion, abdominal contusion, left thigh contusion and right ankle sprain’.

For ten days, Yuzuru was unable to walk and the recovery took more time than expected. Every time he finds himself able to walk, he would go to the rink, but once he steps his foot into the rink the pain comes back. He thought that he would never be able to skate again, felt so depressed and wanted to quit skating all together. However, his mother told him "how about just giving it a try anyway? If you skate just a little on the ice every day with the intention of rehabilitation, the situation may change for the better" her response surprised him because she never tried to stop him from quitting in the past whenever he said he wanted to quit. With that new attitude of his mother, Yuzuru became optimistic about being able to skate again, and found the willpower to try and even aim to win at the next competition of the Grand Prix Series, which was NHK.

At NHK, Unfortunately, Yuzuru wasn't able to present great performances and once he finished his free program he thought to himself: "ah, the final is gone!" he thought that all his efforts in Cup of China were for nothing, but luckily, the total of his points combined from the two competitions made him the last qualified skater for the final. Thus, he was able to take part in the final, presented great performnces and won the gold medal after all the struggles he went through.

4- Winning at Nationals 2014 despite bleeding and needing a surgery:

After the short program at the Grand Prix Final, Yuzuru felt some kind of pain in his stomach whenever he stretched or pressed on it. He thought that it must be a damage in the muscle tissue but after the free program, he found something that looks like a Ping Pong ball sticking out beneath his navel. It was so painful to the extent that he couldn't sleep on his flight back to Japan. When he landed, he went to the hospital right away and was told that he might have Urachal Remnant Disorder. He was given some antibiotic and sent home because his condition wasn't bad. However, once he returned home, and got into the shower, his navel burst and started bleeding. He went back to the hospital and it was confirmed that he has Urachal Remnant. He needed to undergo a surgery but he couldn't afford to have it any time soon because the Japanese national competition (All Japan) was a few weeks away. He was determined to attend it so he decided to bear with the pain and delay the surgery. Without telling anybody about his problem, he attended his trainings after wrapping himself with gauze to prevent blood from staining his clothes. That didn't work out well and blood still got to his clothes so when it was time for the competition, he was worried that his costume might get stained. To prevent that from happening, he put a strong tape on top of the gauze, which was painful, but did the job. In this condition, Yuzuru took part in the Japanese national competition, and despite a few mistakes in both of his programs, his endurance of pain didn't go in vain, and he actually won.

Yuzuru commented about this situation in his book by saying: "It was painful to bend forward and backward, but I tried to do whatever I could in that situation. I even did the Ina bauer, but I could not arch back at all. In fact, I also intended to do the biellmann spin! However, when I started the spin, I changed it into an A-line"

Yuzuru performing his free program and putting his hand on his stomach while leaving the ice during All Japan 2014:

5- Rising from fifth place to first in the World Championships 2017:

At the World Championship in 2017, Yuzuru made some mistakes in the short program that left him sitting in fifth place behind his rivals. The gap between him and the first place was around 11 points. He was so disappointed in himself but didn't give up. He wanted to go practice harder. However, his coaches stopped him from overworking himself and made sure that he takes a good rest and goes through a normal practice. After that, he collected himself, focused, stayed calm and presented one of the greatest performances ever. It was flawless and magnificent. His coach Brian Orser said that he felt privileged to have witnessed this performance. Yuzuru got a very high score that made him scream and left him on the verge of shedding happy tears. His coach Brian Orser was speechless while his other coach Tracy Wilson had her mouth wide open in astonishment. With that, Yuzuru was able to rise from fifth place to first and win the championship.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at the WC 2017:

6- Winning the second Olympic title right after being away from the ice for 3 months due to a severe injury:

Before the beginning of the Olympic season, Yuzuru was done with his preparation very early and was all ready to compete. His coach Brian Orser couldn't believe how smoothly things were going and felt a little uneasy about the fact that Yuzuru was ready very early. His worry wasn't pointless because soon enough Yuzuru sustained a severe injury. It happened during the official practice before NHK. Yuzuru was practicing (4Lutz) which was a new jump he has been practicing that season. He landed the jump in a wrong way causing ligament damage to his right ankle. The injury forced him out of competition for the rest of the season.

Yuzuru's fall and injury at NHK 2017:

Yuzuru disappeared and was away from the ice for three months. During that time, he didn't make any T.V appearances or interviews. Thus, nobody knew anything about him and his condition. His participation in the Olympics and the mere ability to perform again became uncertain. A lot of people doubted he would be able to comeback. However, he showed up at Incheon Airport in South Korea surrounded by guards and declared that he was ready to compete and that he believes he has the potential to win more than any other skater. After that, he avoided talking to the press until the end of the competition.

Yuzuru's arrival at Incheon Airport to participate at the 2018 Olympics:

According to his coach, Brian Orser, Yuzuru returned to the ice only six weeks before the Olympics and had to relearn everything and take baby steps to be able to perform again. He was practicing strokes, single and double jumps while watching his training mate and rival, Javier Fernandez, do a full run through of his programs with triples and quads. Yuzuru was able to land triples only three weeks before the Olympics and started landing quads just two weeks before the Olympics.

During the official open practice before the competition, Yuzuru made sure not to reveal his abilities and current condition nor his planned layout. He simply did some strokes and single jumps then left the rink. He chose his layout after studying his rivals and calculating how many points he would potentially need to win. He did his calculations on an app that he developed as part of his studies at the university.

In the short program segment, Yuzuru put out a great performance that was so close to the world record (which he holds). He won first place at this segment. Seeing the results, he felt relieved and assured so he allowed himself to reduce the difficulty of his free program. He was one-step away from winning the Olympics again. He needed to put out another great performance during the free program, and fortunately, that's exactly what he did. He performed a memorable free program filled with emotions, and once he finished, he screamed: "I won. I won!" which was true! He became the first skater to win the Olympics consecutively in 66 years.

Yuzuru's free program at the 2018 Olympics:

The moment that Yuzuru is announced as the winner of the 2018 Olympics:

7- Receiving the gold medal on crutches during Rostelecom Cup 2018:

After winning the Olympics, Yuzuru decided to pay tribute to his role models in figure skating; the Russian legend Evgeny Plushenko and the American Johnny Weir. He chose one of Plushenko's programs as his free program and one of Weir's as his short. He adapted the programs to his own style but still kept some touches from the original ones. Since it was a tribute, he decided to perform his free program in the hometown of his Russian idol and in front of his people. That is why he chose to participate in Rostelecom Cup, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series, and is held in Russia. He performed a great short program and everything was going well until he injured his right foot again during the practice before the free program. He was advised to withdraw. However, he absolutely wanted to perform his tribute to the Russian legend, Plushenko, in Russia. He has prepared a lot for this performance and came all the way to Russia to do it so he didn't want all of that to be pointless. He decided to take strong painkillers and perform his free program. He lowered the difficulty of the program and then presented a great performance in front of the Russian crowd that brought him the gold medal. After the performance, he started moving on crutches and admitted that without the painkillers, he wouldn't have been able to skate. He received the gold medal that night on crutches with fans cheering for him and holding up signs that says: "Yuzu we love you from all over the world".

Yuzuru receiving the gold medal on crutches at Rostelecom 2018:

8- Conquering his fears during the season of 2019-2020:

Yuzuru has suffered from a lot of injuries throughout his career. More than once, he thought that he is facing the end of his career because of an injury. Therefore, his main goal during the season of 2019-2020 was to finish the season without injuries. He finished his first two competitions safely and arrived at Japan to participate in NHK, which was his second Grand Prix assignment. Many of his injuries happened in his second GP event and he was conscious about this fact. He was afraid of getting hurt again and was visibly shaking before the beginning of his free program. As a result of his nervousness he missed a combination. However, he pulled himself together and improvised a new combination to recover the points he missed. He thought of the new combination, calculated its points and made sure that it's not repeated all while performing amazingly. Once he came out of the rink, his coach Ghislain gave him a hug and said: "You know what? You conquered your fear!".

Yuzuru shaking before performing his free program at NHK 2019 + full performance:

Yuzuru continued to overcome his fears in the final of the Grand Prix. He was setting in second place after the short program and the gap of points between him and his rival was big. He felt that winning may not be possible this time; nonetheless, he still wanted to do his best and give a respectable performance. He decided to raise the number of quad jumps in his program to five for the first time ever in his career. In addition, he declared that he will bring back the quad Lutz, which is the jump that caused his injury before the 2018 Olympics. It's a jump that he never dared to perform again in competitions since that incident. However, he overcame his fear and performed a flawless quad Lutz during the free program with four other quad jumps in the GPF, challenging not only his fear, but also his stamina that has always been an obstacle for him. He did not win the gold medal, but won his own fight against his fears and limits as well as the hearts and respect of the audience.

Yuzuru performing quad Lutz+ full performance of the free program at GPF2019:

9- Winning the bronze medal in the World Championship 2021 despite an asthma attack and many other hurdles.

During the 2020-2021 season, the whole world was going through struggles because of Corona Virus and Yuzuru was no exception. He had to train on his own in Japan all year long away from his coaches and physical therapist in Canada. He prepared new programs for the season with his choreographers by receiving videos and training accordingly without any supervision. During the season, his hometown was struck by an earthquake twice. The last struck happened right before he traveled to Stockholm to participate in the WC. According to him, the inside of his home was a mess and he couldn't use the train to go to Tokyo and board the plane as planned. As a result, he arrived to Stockholm one day later than planned, thus, he had to change his training plans as well. However, his coach Brian Oreser said that Yuzuru is not the type of athlete who gets phased by such problems and he was right. Yuzuru did perfect run through of his programs during his official practices. He also performed his lively short program very well and won the small gold medal of the segment.

Yuzuru performing his short program at WC 2021:

Yuzuru was all set to win the World Championship for the third time, but something unexpected happened before the free program. He was supposed to start warming up one hour prior the turn of his group (the last group), but he was nowhere to be seen at the venue until it was almost time for the last group to compete. His coach Brian Orser said that he was worried and didn't know where Yuzuru was. He asked the head of the Japanese team but they simply told him: "He is somewhere else". Brian kept on going back and forth between the rink where two of his students were competing and the warm up area where Yuzuru was supposed to be, but Yuzuru did not show up. After Brian's students finished their turn, it was almost time for Yuzuru's group so Brian went to the locker room to see if Yuzuru was there. Usually, Yuzuru would put his skating boots in the locker room before the six-minuets warm up of his group and Brian would come to carry his tissue box, and then they would head to the rink together. However, Brian didn't find Yuzuru in the locker room. Yuzuru was caught on camera sitting on a chair at the warm up area, resting his head on the wall and looking exhausted while taking off his mask impatiently. At that time, the announcement of Keegan Messing's score from the group before the last one, could be heard in the background.

Yuzuru at the warm up area before skating his free program at the WC 2021:

When Brian finally found Yuzuru at the warm up area, he said that he knew something must have happened to him but he didn't ask him about it. Instead, he tried to encourage him by saying energetically: "Let's go!"

Yuzuru showed up at the rink without styling his hair unlike the norm. He made a lot of mistakes in the first part of his free program as if he was not the same person who did a perfect run through one day ago. He said that he suddenly couldn't find his balance but he did try his best. He explained that with every mistake, he tried to at least not fall. Later on, the Russian media reported that the Russian doctor who was accompanying their team at the competition said that Yuzuru has had an asthma attack right before coming to the venue and has asked for his help. Yuzuru never talked to the media about what happened before the free program and why he was late. When he was asked about his asthma he only admitted to feeling a little asthmatic after the free program. Despite all of that, Yuzuru managed to win the bronze medal and contribute in securing three spots to team Japan at the Olympics.

The mystery of what happened to Yuzuru before the free program would have stayed unsolved if it wasn't for the Russian doctor. The reason is that Yuzuru doesn't like to make excuses for himself. He once said in an old interview that he used to make a lot of excuses for himself when he was young but then he realized that real strong skaters don't do that and that he wouldn't learn anything if he keeps on making excuses. He took the renowned Japanese skater Mao Asada as an example when she competed with a bone fracture without uttering a word about it. That must be the reason why he never takes his asthma as an excuse or talks about it.

10- Achieving his childhood dreams one by one:

Since ever Yuzuru was young he declared that he wants to be the Olympic champion and he wants to land a quad Axel. He went on to achieve his Olympic dream in 2014; making history by being the first Japanese male skater to win an Olympic gold medal ever. However, he said that it’s not over yet because the plan in his head is to win the Olympics twice. He kept on improving himself and walking towards his dream while making a lot of sacrifices and overcoming injuries. At the end, he achieved his dream and made history once again by being the first skater in 66 years to win the gold medal at the Olympics consecutively. He then made a statement saying that he feels happy and that this happiness is what he gets in return to the sacrifices he made. After that, he said that he feels freed from the pressure of having to produce results. Thus, he announced that he is going to skate for himself from then on. It was time for him to start focusing on the other dream of his childhood which was the quad Axel. He made it clear that landing it in a competition is his next goal and didn’t allow himself to get swayed by what others are doing or what competitions he is losing. He stayed focused on his goal and is reported to be getting closer to achieving it.

Yuzuru's path has never been covered with flowers. It was hard and painful most of the time but yuzuru always turns the pain into success and fulfillment with his perseverance, becoming an icon of inspiration to many people. We wish him a lot of happiness and success in the future.

Translation of Yuzuru's book is from:

https://bit.ly/3vSGgBz

#yuzuru hanyu #brian orser #javier fernandez

124 notes · View notes

cinebration · 4 years

Text

Cuts & Bruises, Wounds & Abuses (Captain Syverson x Reader) [Part 14]

You get to play cards with the men.

Tagged: @scuzmunkie, @thethirstyarchive, @maan24, @igotkatiepowers, @sugarpenchant, @lamthetwickster, @omgkatinka, @helloitsmeamie203, @simply-heaven, @l-u-n-a-m, @fckdeusername, @woterezwhet, @olkathechaoticfox, @bethabear12, @bloodyinspiredfuck, @flor-la-ganga95, @nothingright, @tapismyforte, @thebonzifonzibrothers, @peakymidwinter, @fanfictionaddiction99, @thereisa8ella, @kmuir1, @bichibibi, @love-yourself-first-tfw, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @lou-la-lou, @kat002nd, @babypink224221, @speakerforthedead0, @rn7rocks, @sofiebstar, @wheretheriversrunintothesea, @thatchickwiththecamera, @louiiissa, @october505, @turkish276, @heartfelt-pen, @mstgsmy, @kazzilla, @alyxkbrl, @suhke3, @summersong69, @untraveled-road, @wiccanmetallicrose, @crispysublimecupcake, @evangeline73aster, @eldarwen333, @calwitch, @contentobsessor, @noseyrosey1597, @the-problem-of-leisure

Warnings: none

Gif Source: henry-cavlll

Your encounter with Syverson left you puzzled—so much so that you stared at your notebook for an hour without so much as putting one word to the page.

Now that the pain of your arm was starting to become something more in the background, you had a chance to filter through the events of the last few days. Studiously avoiding the attack, you focused instead on the aftermath.

Particularly Syverson’s treatment of you.

The night on the rooftop…the look on his face, the words he had said—“I’m not your enemy”—they plagued you, asking to be deciphered. Hadn’t he treated you with hostility up until the attack? Was he taking pity on you now because of your injury?

Your response had been ill-considered. The look of genuine hurt on his face had sent you reeling and scurrying past him, afraid of what that meant. Everyone else seemed to be friendly with you, but the captain…it seemed each time you made progress with him, one of you would say something to set it all back.

Except for today. Despite the previous night’s stupid answer, he had shown up and offered to help you. And he had seemed genuinely concerned about your arm.

He’s worried you’ll be even more scathing than he imagines in your article, the cynical part of you said.

Maybe, maybe not.

After all, you still dreamed of the memory of him hovering over you in the Humvee, trying to keep you conscious. Of how you had been overwhelmed with gratitude and relief that he was there, protecting you.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Robinson smiled from the doorway. “I was wondering if you’d like to play cards with us.”

You returned his smile. “I’m a terrible poker player.”

“Too bad we’re playing with Mahmoud, otherwise I’d love to take your money.”

You chuckled. “What’s wrong with Mahmoud?”

“He’s too good. Captain says we can’t gamble with him.”

You glanced down at the blank notebook. “Okay, I’ll play.”

“Excellent.”

Of all the games you expected, Go Fish wasn’t one of them. You laughed as you took the seat next to Mahmoud. His shuffling was clumsy, indicative of his lack of familiarity with card games, but he dealt you five cards with a flourish that nearly sent the deck flying out of his hands.

“Who’s the fourth?” you asked, gesturing to the empty seat opposite you.

“Me,” Syverson said, entering the room and sitting in the chair.

Swallowing thickly, you offered him a smile. He hesitated before a very small one peeked out from his beard.

“Why can we not bet in this game?” Mahmoud asked. It sounded like it wasn’t his first time asking.

“I won’t be giving you anymore money,” Syverson answered, mockingly gruff.

“You still owe me!”

“Exactly.”

The easy banter warmed your heart as you listened. Picking up the cards with your good hand, you slid them across the table to the edge and peeked at them as though playing poker, unable to put them properly in your hand. Pushing out a pair of sevens, you set them aside and let the rest lie flat on the table.

“So,” Robinson said, taking up his cards, “how is what happened the other day going to affect your article?”

A thick silence snapped taut overhead.

Syverson’s gaze bored into you. You met it briefly, held your ground, before shifting focus to Robinson. You pictured the bodies in the marketplace. Deakins’s charred corpse.

“I don’t know. Seeing as I’m writing about the struggles here, it can show how the problems here affect the locals, which in turn affect you.”

“What about you?”

You knew what he meant but feigned otherwise. “What about me?”

“You can’t write the article without talking about what happened to you.”

“Sure I can.” You shifted in your seat and glanced back at Syverson. “Isn’t it your turn?”

He didn’t glance at his hand. “Have any twos?”

“Go fish.”

He drew from the deck. Robinson flicked a glance between you both before asking Mahmoud, “Do you have any nines?”

Mahmoud handed one nine over.

“But doesn’t that affect how you write?” Robinson pressed.

“How should it?”

“You were hurt. That affects—”

“So?” An edge crept into your voice. Your arm burned in your lap.

“Could that create bias?”

You fixed Robinson with a stare. “You mean, will I become a war hawk and say that the enemy needs to be eradicated for their cruelty? No. I’m not here for that. I’m here to talk about you guys.”

“So what you’re saying is that you won’t say we didn’t protect you.”

You blinked, frowning at the abrupt shift in topic. “Of course not. I’m alive, aren’t I? And it’s still your turn.”

“Do you have any threes?”

“Go fish.”

Mahmoud coughed. “I will speak to the sheikh tomorrow to ask your questions.”

You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the tension dissipated. “Thank you. Will that be after we go to the water station?”

Robinson glanced at Syverson. “We’re going to the station?”

“I am taking her there tomorrow,” Syverson confirmed, shifting uncomfortably beneath the man’s penetrating stare. “Prichard will join me. You have to take Mahmoud to the sheikh.”

Robinson nodded and turned back to you. “You interviewed Mahmoud, right?”

“Yes.”

“When do I get my interview?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “When do you have time?”

“Whenever you’d like.”

“Do you have any eights?”

He tossed two over. Feeling a stare, you looked up to see Syverson gazing at you again. “Do you have any sixes?”

He slid over one card. As you paired it with the six in your hand, he asked, “What about Deakins?”

You stilled and met his stare again. “With permission from his family, I will write about him.”

“His death wasn’t your fault.”

Chest constricting, you looked away, surprised by the sincerity in his voice and the intensity of his gaze. You still could picture Deakins offering you eggs and that wide smile of his as though it had happened that morning.

“We still have my interview to do.”

The quiet tone of Syverson’s voice commanded your attention. There was something behind his words you couldn’t place.

“That should be fun,” Robinson interjected, snorting. “He’ll give you two sentences to work with.”

Syverson shot him a glance as Mahmoud chuckled. The fraught silence broken, you breathed easy and caught yourself smiling—even as your stomach fluttered with the thought of being alone with Syverson again.

“What the fuck was that?” Syverson demanded.

“What was what?” Robinson asked.

“You know what.”

Syverson was fuming. He had almost slapped Robinson at the card table when the man pushed his questions for you too far. That Syverson had kept his mouth shut was a miracle.

Robinson heaved a sigh. “That woman is traumatized. She won’t even look at her arm! She needs to talk about it.”

“We’re not therapists”

“What therapist knows what that’s like? We do. More specifically, you do.”

The fact he was right infuriated Syverson further. “Stop playing fucking matchmaker.”

Shoving the man away from him, he stormed out of the room, stalked up to the roof for fresh air. Wind kicked up dust, assaulting him with grit. He couldn’t remember the last time he had showered. He desperately needed to scrub the desert from his skin.

The setting sun slipped slowly behind the horizon. He watched its progress, trying to calm himself.

Robinson, damn him, had spoken undeniable truth. You were hurting, even if you didn’t admit it. And if Syverson was your soulmate, he needed to be the one to help.

“Dammit.” Passing a hand over his face, he turned his back on the sunset. He suddenly found himself wondering what his mother would advise.

“You’re so focused on this idea of yourself and your life,” she might say, “that you don’t see the forest through the trees.”

There’s no forest here, he thought bitterly, staring out at the endless desert.

He could hear her voice in the wind. “Then make one.”

#Captain Syverson x Reader #Captain Syverson #Captain Syverson imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Sand Castle (2017)#Netflix Sand Castle

391 notes · View notes

pink-flame · 3 years

Note

For the Trope ask, 14 and 27 with Juke, then 19 and 72 with a ship of your choice

I’ll get to the second half of this soon. But for now part 2 of Bodyguard AU Juke!

Read part one here.

Bodyguard AU + Sick/Injured fic

Julie Molina was not sick.

Ok, maybe she had been dragging for days and her brain had gone slightly fuzzy and she was pretty sure she had a temperature.

But she wasn’t sick. She couldn’t be. Not when her first ever national tour started in less than a month and her second album had just been released. She had radio appearances and tv interviews and stage rehearsals and a million other things she had to do that week.

So she couldn’t be sick.

Unfortunately her body didn’t seem to get that memo.

“Hey, are you ok?”

Julie turned her head sluggishly toward Luke who was frowning over at her from the back of the car they were being driven towards her next interview in.

She shook her head then realized that was the opposite of what she meant to do. She stopped mid-shake and switched over to a nod.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She told him, the slight croak to her voice doing little to help her credibility.

Luke’s frown deepened and his eyes narrowed as he examined her from across the car.

Alex turned to look back from the front seat.

“You are looking kind of like a ghost, Jules,” He observed. “You’re paler than me.”

“I said I’m fine,” Julie insisted even as she shivered involuntarily. “Can we just go over the schedule for today again?”

“Oh look at that,” Alex said, typing furiously on his phone. “It just cleared up.”

“Alex…” Julie whined.

“You should listen to him, Julie,” Luke broke in. “You’re not helping anyone by passing out on live tv.”

Julie crossed her arms and let out an indignant huff. She could feel her lips pursing like an annoyed toddler. She couldn’t help it. Being sick always reverted her back to her younger days and left her feeling pouty and clingy.

Not that she was sick.

Only her head was killing her and her nose was kind of stuffy and she was so tired.

“Maybe…” Her voice cracked and she studiously ignored the look Alex and Luke exchanged at the sound. “Maybe I could take one day off.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen reason,” Alex said. “Not that you had a choice but still.”

Julie sighed, deciding she didn’t have the energy to engage with her best friend at that moment. She sank back into the leather of the seat, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. She would just rest her eyes and by the time they got back to her place maybe she would feel up to doing some work remotely. She could tweak the lyrics for that Spotify exclusive she had promised for next week and maybe even call into a couple of radio shows she had been booked on. She would convince Alex that was a good idea. She just needed to rest for a few minutes first.

At least that had been the plan.

Instead she found herself being shaken awake to the sight of Luke’s face hovering over hers.

“Jules? We’re here.”

Had he ever used that nickname for her before? She didn’t think so. She decided to blame her apparent illness for the sudden fluttering in her chest at the sound of the word tumbling casually from her bodyguard’s lips.

“Alex,” She mumbled, still half out of it. “Maybe I can do a couple of my interviews on the phone…”

“Go to bed,” He interrupted. “Seriously. I’ve got this.”

Julie wanted to protest but her brain was moving a little too slow and Luke was already pulling her out of the car, those absurdly defined muscles being put to work, and she lost her train of thought.

“I can walk,” She grumbled as he led her into her building and over to the elevator, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

“I know,” He said in an annoyingly agreeable voice. “So can I and right now we’re walking together.”

Julie rolled her eyes but let herself be hustled into the elevator. Luke scanned his key card to authorize it to take them to the top floor.

“Who gave you a key to my building?” Julie asked as she leaned against the wall and let her tired eyes slide shut.

“That would be you,” Luke answered, his amusement clear even though she didn’t open her eyes to check his expression.

“What an idiot,” She mumbled.

Her head was now not only throbbing but had suddenly started to feel too heavy to keep upright.

She felt Luke lean against the wall next to her and gave into the urge to lean over and rest her head on his shoulder. Or she would have if he hadn’t been quite a bit taller than her. As it was her head landed awkwardly somewhere towards the middle of his arm.

She sighed and decided it was too much trouble to try again.

He didn’t comment on her behavior, only leaned a little closer to her so she had less of a stretch.

It felt like only a second later that she heard the familiar ding that let her know they had reached her floor.

“Come on,” Luke said, raising her gently off of his arm so he could wrap it around her waist again and steer her towards her front door. He swiped his key again and pushed the door open, half dragging her inside and straight to her bedroom. She briefly had the wherewithal to wonder if she had left anything embarrassing out in plain sight but quickly gave up as she sank onto the edge of her bed.

“Thanks,” She mumbled. “I’m good now.”

He ignored her statement which was clearly intended to dismiss him. He crouched down in front of her and reached up to place the back of his hand against her forehead. Julie shivered, unsure if it was her fever or his proximity that caused her reaction.

She decided the fuzzy feeling in her head was excuse enough to let herself examine his face up close. She hadn’t been this close to him since they were pressed up against each other while hiding in her closet. It wasn’t a good memory exactly, she remembered how scared she had been in the moment, how violated she had felt later when she let it sink in that someone had invaded her home. But she also remembered his hand clutched in hers, soft palms and calloused fingertips confirming her suspicion that he was a musician in his spare time. She remembered his eyes, impossibly big as they searched hers for signs of panic. She remembered his messy hair and how badly she had wanted to run her fingers through it even during a terrifying situation.

And she remembered how he had refused to leave her that night, insisting that he sleep on her couch, just in case. She had gotten up that night, telling herself she needed a glass of water but knowing deep down she just wanted a glimpse of his sleeping face.

It was a good face.

His lips quirked up slightly.

“Thanks,” He said as he dropped his hand from her forehead.

“For what?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion.

“You just said I had a good face.”

Julie would have reacted more to that if she had the energy. As it was all she could do was groan slightly at the knowledge that she managed to say something she didn’t mean to in front of him again.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t know what you’re saying,” He assured her. “You’re burning up, Boss.”

“I think I’d better lie down,” She mumbled.

He nodded and stood.

“Do you have some...where can I get you something to sleep in?” He asked.

“You don’t have to,” She tried to dismiss but he just stared at her expectantly. “Middle drawer.”

He crossed the room quickly and opened the door in question, grabbing an old baggy shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, bringing them back to her quickly.

“Thanks,” She said again.

“I’ll just…” He jerked his thumb towards the doorway indicating he would leave the room so she could change.

She nodded and started pulling her top off without hesitation. His eyes widened and he spun to leave the room quickly. Ok, she knew there were perfectly good reasons why she should have made sure he was turned around before she did that but she couldn’t latch on to them at that moment. She just wanted to be horizontal as soon as humanly possible. She had just managed to change and slide under her comforter when she heard the door to her condo click shut.

She tried to ignore the sinking in her chest at the sound.

Of course there was no reason for him to stay. He was her bodyguard not her babysitter and certainly not her boyfriend. Sure, she could admit to herself that she had been nursing a little crush on him for months and there had been times she was sure he was flirting with her. But then she reminded herself that was just how he was, chemistry with literally everyone. It didn’t mean anything to him.

So it couldn’t mean anything to her.

Julie sighed and sank deeper into her pillow. She wasn’t sure if she actually slept or if she just drifted in and out of feverish confusion but the next thing she was fully aware of was Luke once again crouching in front of her.

She wasn’t sure if he was real or not and somehow in her fever addled mind that seemed like a good reason to reach out and touch his face.

His eyes softened affectionately when her fingers brushed his cheek and she wasn’t sure if that was evidence that he was real or a fantasy.

“Hey, Boss,” He said softly.

“Hey,” She whispered. “You came back.”

He smiled and held up a plastic bag.

“Of course. I got Tylenol and tissues and some soup I can make you later.”

She felt a surge of treacherous joy at his words even as she struggled to hold on to enough logic and propriety to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to stay,” She told him, pulling her hand back to her side. “This isn’t part of your job description.”

He chuckled and she wanted to demand he tell her what was so funny but she was distracted by the way he reached out to run his hand over the top of her head.

“Go to sleep, Jules.”

Her brain seemed to take his words as a command, her eyes fluttering shut. Unfortunately only a few seconds passed before a shrill ringing was causing them to shoot open again.

“Don’t answer it,” Luke tried even as she was reaching for her phone which sat on her nightstand.

“Hello?” She muttered, holding it up to her ear weakly.

“Julie? Are you ok?”

She frowned as the familiar voice of her big brother washed over her.

“Reggie? How did you even know I was sick?” She asked.

“Alex called me,” He said as though it should be obvious. “Look, I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What? No. That’s like a 6 hour drive,” She croaked out. “There’s no reason for you to come all the way from San Francisco.”

“The flu isn’t something to mess around with, Julie,” He insisted. “You shouldn’t be alone and Alex is working.”

Julie’s head was spinning and even the weight of her phone seemed to be too much for her in her current weakened state.

“I’m not alone,” She mumbled.

“What? Who’s there?” Reggie demanded.

“Just talk to Luke,” She instructed.

She just had time to hear Reggie ask semi-frantically who exactly Luke was before she was shoving the phone into her bodyguard’s hands. He looked slightly panicked but to his credit he took the phone and raised it to his ear.

Julie had intended to eavesdrop on their conversation but in the end she sank into a fitful slumber before she could hear a thing.

The next time she woke up she didn’t feel any better. If anything she felt even worse. Luke was there though. He brought her more pain medicine and walked her to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t fall. He made her soup and hot tea. And when she started to droop again he tucked her back into bed.

“Goodnight, Boss.”

He was still there when she woke up the next day.

She had a text message from Alex saying he had rescheduled her commitments for that day too and she still felt too miserable to fight him on it. Apparently Luke had gone back to his place at some point while she slept because he was wearing fresh clothes when she emerged from her room.

She felt slightly better by lunch, managing to sit up and join Luke on the couch to watch some tv. She discovered he loved the trashy reality shows that drove her crazy and she adored the cooking shows he called criminally boring. They both loved 90’s sitcoms though. At one point he grabbed her acoustic guitar and started playing her a song she had never heard before.

Dreaming like we’ll live forever

But living like it’s now or never

Julie managed a tired smirk.

“Is this your way of telling me I’m dying?” She asked teasingly.

“Not on my watch,” He said firmly before shooting her one of those troublesome grins she would always associate with him. “And that is part of my job description.”

Right. Because he was her employee. Only...surely employees didn’t just hang around for two days to keep their boss company while she was sick...did they?

The next day Julie was starting to feel more human. She insisted that Luke go home. It had taken some convincing but finally he had agreed, insisting that she call him if she needed anything.

Julie spent two more days recovering alone in her apartment, most of her symptoms having abated but a deep sense of exhaustion taking a little longer to leave her. She called Reggie back and ignored his pointed questions about why a bodyguard was so dedicated to her well-being when it wasn’t life threatening and was she sure there wasn’t something she wanted to tell him?

Brothers.

Alex wasn’t much better, texting her every five minutes not with work updates but asking if she had spoken to Luke. Of course she hadn’t. He was her bodyguard not her boyfriend and if some small part of her was disappointed that he hadn’t called to check on her she wasn’t about to say that out loud.

She was feeling back to herself and prepared to return to her hectic life the next day when she got one more message from Alex that had her nearly dropping her phone.

Just a heads up, I found out why lover boy hasn’t called. He caught your flu.

Julie felt a lot of things as she read Alex’s text.

She felt guilty.

She felt worried.

She felt an overwhelming urge to make sure he was ok.

She knew she could accomplish that by shooting off a quick text. If she really wanted to go the extra mile as a boss she could call. That would be normal. That would be appropriate.

But hadn’t they passed that a long time ago?

So that’s how she found herself outside of his apartment, knocking nervously on his door.

At first no one answered but just as she was debating knocking again the door swung open to reveal a pale Luke, his slightly sweaty face scrunching up adorably in confusion.

“Julie? What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice a familiar croak.

“You caught my flu,” She said simply as though that should explain everything.

He managed a smile even if it was slightly pained.

“So you what...came to apologize?”

“No, I…” She held up the bag she gripped in her hand. “I brought Tylenol and tissues and some soup I could make later. If you want.”

His eyebrows raised sluggishly in surprise.

“You’re going to take care of me?” He asked, that soft look back in his eyes.

“I can’t have you dying on me,” She shrugged with a small smile. “Who else would protect me from the over zealous tweens on tour?”

He chuckled before cutting himself off with a cough.

“That’s sweetly pragmatic of you,” He said. “How did you even know where I live?”

“Um, I had Alex pull your personal file,” She admitted.

“Wow, pretty sure that’s an HR violation,” He joked.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. So...can I come in?” She asked only slightly nervously.

In the end she shouldn’t have worried.

He only grinned tiredly and stepped aside to let her pass.

“Come on in, Boss.”

And so she stepped over the threshold thinking about how if this was a song she was writing that would be a metaphor for the start of something.

But that was a song to write another day.

Tag request: @only-trust-fictional-characters

#answered ask #trope prompt game #juke #jatp #fanfiction #my fics

109 notes · View notes

fuzzy-melonlord · 2 years

Note

all of them with frozen fruit <3

okay so just like with dr wrath this is gonna be under a cut. gods this took forever but i fucking love Frozen Fruit just as much as i do Dr. Wrath so let's fuckin go!

also @bruh-im-aggro and @ofthecosmos i know y'all enjoy Xavier/Honeydew so here ya go

Pre-Relationship

1. How did they first meet? - they met at D.A.M.N, Honeydew is actually a part of the Campus newspaper team and so after a particularly awesome winning game. They reached out to get an interview with some members of the team (before Xavier became captain)

2. What was their first impression of each other? - oh gods, Xavier was intimidated. they seemed so serious when asking their questions in the interview. He admired their work ethic though. Honeydew thought he was a good player, but other than that they didn't think much else.

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? - Using another OC, Xavier's best friend, Gemma, was hesitant to accept him getting with Honeydew. They're worried that Honeydew is just gonna hurt him. Meanwhile, Honeydew's best friends were practically shoving them at him at parties.

4. Who felt romantic feelings first? - Xavier. He fell, surprisingly quick, and he did get teased about it once they did start dating. but He hung out with them a few times by chance after that first interview and he was just smitten.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings? - surprisingly no. When Honeydew realized they were crushing, they walked straight up to him and told him. and then they started dating.

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? - Honeydew doesn't believe in soulmates, but they do think that there is a connection between the two of them. They believe that it formed because of their own actions though, not because of divine intervention. Xavier on the other hand would be a blushing mess, boy is a hopeless romantic and would love that.

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met? - ....we've seen Xavier's. Honeydew would have gone through school without much trouble. maybe have gotten an s/o or maybe they would have focused on their writing, but either way it wouldn't have been the same.

General

1. Who initiated the relationship? - Honeydew~ as stated before. when they realized they had feelings for him. they just went up to him and asked him to date.

2. Did they have an official first date? if so what was it like? - Oh my gods yes they did. Xavier planned everything. like i said in another response, he is such a romantic. So he legit took them out to dinner, and he took them a movie they had mentioned wanting to see. and then they went and sat under the stars on the hood of his car. he also 1000% bought them flowers. but not roses. those are overplayed so he bought them Sunflowers because sunflowers can represent longevity, adoration, and pure love.

3. What was their first kiss like? i actually answered this in one of the last night prompts. so ill copy paste it here. " So it was actually an accident. They had been dating for a bit and they were taking things slow, testing the waters. And Xavier goes to leave and goes to give them a kiss on the cheek but he taps their shoulder first and so instead of kissing their cheek he kisses their lips. He apologized profusely after, but Honeydew cut him off by kissing him again."

4. Were they each other's first anything? - Yes, Xavier had his first time with Honeydew and it was Honeydew's first serious relationship.

5. What's their height difference? Age difference? - I think Honeydew is the older one. Maybe by like a year or so. But Xavier is taller, only by a few inches though.

6. What's their relationship with each other's families? Do they share a friend group? - Xavier's Mom loves Honeydew, they consider them their own kid already. Honeydew's Mom and Dads (2), started off a little wary of Xavier but ended up caring dearly for him.

7. Who takes the lead in social situations? - Xavier. Yes, Honeydew is a reporter but they like watching and listening. Sure they know their way with words but they do prefer to listen.

8. Who gets jealous easier? - Honeydew. Xavier might be the more insecure one of the two but he is super secure with his feelings for Honeydew and their feelings for him. But Honeydew is a little less secure. Sure they know he's popular, and extremely handsome, and has a winning personality and sometimes the little voice in their head tells them that they aren't good enough for him. So when other people flirt with him, they do in fact get pretty jealous. they never say anything about it to the person flirting, but they will make physical contact with Xavier in some way. He always knows, and makes sure to provide the comfort he knows his partner needs.

9. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear? - this one was a hard one, both usually are pretty tame around other people. But when emotions are high (say after a particularly great match where the team wins) It'll be Honeydew, whispering in his ear while the team celebrates. letting him know exactly how they're going to congratulate him.

Love

1. Who said "I Love you" First? - i actually did this one in a previous set of headcanons. so i'll copy paste here. "Honeydew. It was actually again on accident. Just like their first kiss. It was before they moved in together, and Honeydew had stayed the night again. It was a weekend and Xavier had to leave for like one of those weekend all day practice things that sports people do. and when he kisses them goodbye they just sleepily mutter that they love him. Xavier was the happiest that day that any of his team had seen, ever."

2. What are their primary love languages? - Honeydew's is 100% physical touch. They love being held and holding others. Xavier's is gift giving, with a strong second being physical touch.

3. Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? - Xavier has actually used "are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see." On Honeydew. So yeah.

4. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? - oh my gods so often. but not in like an uncomfortable way. Like when they see each other in between classes, or if Honeydew sits in on practice, they'll usually share a kiss. Or if they're out with friend's they'll hold hands. it's very light. they don't go wild while in public.

5. Who initiates kisses? - this is honestly pretty even, but imma give it to Xavier because our romantic boy loves kissing more than just about anything. He will take any chance he can to kiss his precious Honeydew.

6. Who's the big and little spoon? - LITTLE SPOON XAVIER! LITTLE SPOON XAVIER! It makes him feel safe <3

7. What are their favorite things to do together? - So it's really cute, they actually have an old record player (Honeydew collects records) and they'll sometimes just put one on and dance to the songs in their living room.

8. Who's better at comforting the other? - Honeydew. Xavier has said it before, but they always seem to know exactly what to say to help calm him down or make him feel better. Not to say Xavier is bad, he just don't have them magic words.

9. Who's more protective? - Gemma/j honestly Honeydew. they worry that Xavier will try too hard to prove himself and get himself hurt. He cares too much about helping others even at the expensive of his own health and safety. Honeydew knows this.

10. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? - honestly, both prefer Physical. They can say they love each other til their blue in the face. but nothing is better than a soft touch or a sweet kiss.

11. What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in universe or otherwise? - I actually just made a playlist for them! So here it is! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0eI3atYKPD3SxhwAj8qIdd?si=ee21c99de1f648f4

12. What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Xavier - Honeydew, hun, baby, babe, sweetie, my love

Honeydew - Snowflake, snow angel, ice cube, vanilla ice, do you get the trend? if there is an ice themed nickname then Honeydew will 1000% use it. Xavier thinks it's cute.

13. Who remembers the little things? - Honeydew. and it's less they remember and more they write it down. They don't want to ever forget the little things and the best way for them to remember and keep track is if they write it down. So they'll always have him with them.

Domestic Life

1. If they get married, who proposes? - OKAY SO Story time. Xavier gets a ring and spends MONTHS planning to propose, literal months because our romantic boy wants this to be perfect. Then one night they're just cuddling at the apartment and Honeydew takes his hand in theirs and presses a kiss to his ring finger and just mutters under their breath, asking if he would marry them. Xavier can't even be mad about his plans being for nothing because he gets to marry the love of his life.

2. What's the wedding like? Who attends? - It's pretty small, just their closest friends and family. they want it to be personal not some wild large wedding. It's a beautiful little event. Xavier cries.

3. How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? - Their kids are dogs, they have 3. A Corgi named Drei, A Bernese mountain dog named Buzz, and a Shiba Inu named Chili.

4. Do they have any pets? - see above

5. Who's the stricter parent? - Xavier actually. Honeydew lets a lot of shit slide when it comes to the dogs lol.

6. Who worries the most? - Xavier! Dog daddy is a big worry wart about his precious dogs.

7. Who kills the bugs in the house? - both actually. and they don't kill spiders, because the spiders are good at keeping other pests away from Xavier's plants (he is a plant dad too) and keeping them out of the house in general

8. How do the celebrate holidays? - They usually alternate which family they visit during the day. They'll go see one side of the family during the day and one at night.

9. Who's more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? - Xavier will practically DRAG Honeydew back to bed to make them sleep more, because he knows how much they over work theirself.

10. Who's the better cook? - Honeydew. Xavier isn't bad at cooking but the man knows how to cook bachelor food. He does cook with Honeydew though, so he can learn and make foods that they like.

11. Who likes to dance? - both of them, they love dancing. especially dancing together.

#anon things #redacted xavier #xavier redacted asmr #honeydew oc

7 notes · View notes

prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Continuation of an angsty dark fic request.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts/attempt (I made myself real sad with this one so be warned if you’re vulnerable to negative thinking), NSFW, smut (gender-neutral), unhealthy relationship, depression, neurodivergent reader. Melancholy rambling.

3,200 words

“Don’t worry about what Dr. Chilton thinks,” Nurse Clerval advised as soon as he was out of earshot. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, but”—you tugged the hem of your scrubs—“He’s right. I keep messing up. I think he hates me.” You stopped there, too ashamed to admit you were the biggest fuck-up on the entire staff, new or not, or that you could tell Dr. Chilton regretted his decision to hire you.

“And the rest of us hate him. Just keep doing your job, learn the ropes—he’ll back off.”

You nodded silently and continued your rounds, delivering meds and checking in on patients. Amy had to be restrained again when she wouldn’t stop biting. Julianne seemed more confused lately, though you hadn’t known any of them long enough to tell what was normal.

Clerval’s words hung over you. It didn’t seem right that everyone hated Dr. Chilton. He was a little brusque, yes, but intelligent. Wickedly sarcastic. Posturing and puffing himself up whenever people he admired came to visit the hospital, and he wanted badly to impress them. Lonely.

Your cheeks heated at the thought of those intense bursts of green under his brow—the first thing you noticed when he conducted your interview. His eyes almost matched the light green scrubs you wore at the hospital you trained in, though the uniform here was white (as if leaning into the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest vibe.)

But what drew you in wasn’t that his eyes were beautiful—though they were—it was the way they made contact with yours. Staring you down with fake confidence, as if he were forcing it. That stare must have been off-putting to most people, but it made your spirit leap with that particular spark of connection one only feels when finding a kindred spirit.

“Hey! Still sulking? Hurry it up,” Clerval called, jolting you to attention. You trotted after.

It was nice having a mentor on the staff, but at the same time, it just felt like having another person to eventually disappoint.

“Here! What’s next?” you beamed.

***

Dr. Chilton didn’t back off over the next few weeks as Nurse Clerval suggested. The more you thought you were getting the hang of routines at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the more mistakes you seemed to make, and the harder its administrator came down on you. And the more the handsome, scarred Dr. Chilton hated you, the more nervous mistakes you made.

In nursing school, you aced everything technical. Every written test. Every memorized statistic, sterilization procedure, medication instruction, and anatomy diagram. But when it came to interacting with patients and families—being compassionate yet professional—nothing came naturally. As a child, you learned how to fake eye contact by staring at the bridge of someone’s nose. How to smile bright and encourage others so they don’t reject you. So they don’t see you as cold or weird. But sometimes, you felt like an alien just parroting human behavior.

The guy you had been dating when you started working at the BSHCI said something similar to you when he broke it off. That you were “unavailable” and never understood what he needed.

There was a reason your first choice job was at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers.

Dr. Frederick Chilton was the same way. Just better at hiding it, or braver about not caring when his mannerisms rubbed people the wrong way. He didn’t fall apart like you did. He was… incredible. As soon as you met him, you knew you wanted the job. His smile was forced but friendly that first day, and you went home dreaming about getting to know him better.

But as soon as you were hired, the friendliness went out of his eyes. On your very first day, you passed him in the hall and smiled. He frowned and informed you that you were five minutes late clocking in. Everything—every forgotten ID card and typo on a patient file—was proof to Dr. Chilton that you were incompetent.

Worthless.

He even pointed it out when you couldn’t stand up for yourself and let Nurse Clerval defend you.

Pathetic.

Why did you ever think someone like him might like you?

He wasn’t an asshole. The constant reprimanding and disciplinary write-ups were no more than you deserved. It just hurt coming from someone you admired and wished things could be different with.

God, you wished just once he would smile at you again. Tell you that you did a good job.

Your fist hovered over the dark mahogany of the carved doors to Dr. Chilton’s office, poised to knock. To tender your resignation. You hadn’t seen the extravagant interior of his office since your interview, but you could imagine him in there: laying back on the leather couch sipping a Scotch, surrounded by tall shelves of medical books and sculpted wall molding. The air filled with the library smell of old paper.

In your imagination, his cold green eyes would soften, and he would ask why you were leaving. Apologize for being so hard on you. The Chilton in your mind clasped your hand, and you both blushed, wondering if the gesture was merely a show of professional support, or if it held a deeper meaning. He clasped tighter instead of dropping your hand, knowing— understanding—the heat behind your gaze.

A dull thud came from inside the office, followed by footsteps and a muttering voice, muffled through the door. The footsteps started heading your way, and you walked briskly down the hall toward the exit, not looking back when a moment later, the mahogany doors creaked open.

Coward.

There was no point quitting, anyway. You would never find another hospital job as slow-paced, where you rarely had to speak with outsiders—only the regular long-term patient-inmates, and a small staff of orderlies, guards, nurses, and psychiatrists.

Sometimes you thought you should quit nursing altogether, but then what would you do? Flip burgers? You’d be bad at that, too. There was nothing you wouldn’t be a failure at.

A fog hovered over you, creeping its tendrils into every thought, turning every tiny setback into the end of the world, and making every success unimportant. Leaving BSHCI wouldn’t make it better. Nothing would make it better. You were the fuck-up. Anywhere you went, the problem would always be you.

Every smile you gave was forced, but you kept smiling as if everything was normal. So long as nobody could see you drowning, it wasn’t real. There was still hope that you could get your shit together, and no one would be the wiser that you were actually a disgusting piece of human trash. So long as you could smile like you were fine, you weren’t a complete failure.

But the more you pretended to be upbeat—pretended to be someone likable—the more you were certain your coworkers didn’t like you. They must have been sick of covering for you by now.

A week later, the nurse you were replacing grunted, “Finally,” as you sprinted through the door three minutes after your shift started. That one unremarkable interaction was the final proof of a theory you had been nursing for a long time:

Everyone’s lives would be easier without you.

That was the final conclusion, the final, creeping thought the suffocating fog wormed into your head. The crescendo of a distorted symphony that had been subtly building to this from the beginning.

You couldn’t force yourself to smile anymore.

***

You didn’t have authorized access to the medication supply room, but you swiped a key from Dr. Tenley’s office. For a secure facility, the doctors of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane were lax about locking their own offices. She would notice it was missing by Monday morning, and there would be serious repercussions for stealing it, but you weren’t concerned. You wouldn’t be around to face them.

With the high-potency drugs available in a hospital and a working knowledge of pharmacology, ending a life could be quick and relatively painless.

The key clicked in the door. You glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. But the coast was clear.

A halfhearted breath puffed from your nose. Part of you wanted to find it funny how easy this was, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

You stealthily opened the windowless metal door, stepped inside, and shut and locked it behind you without making a sound. Once inside the small room, you let out a silent sigh of relief (or despair). Only a handful of people had a key, so you were unlikely to be interrupted, especially at night with only a skeleton staff on duty.

There were three rows of tall storage shelves crammed into the walk-in closet with clean tile in the few places wall was exposed. The whir of a climate-control system drowned out the pulse in your ears as you scanned for the drugs you were looking for.

You found them faster than expected. They could have at least been hidden. The universe could have put a few more obstacles in your path, but instead, the universe was giving you a big fat sign it wanted you dead.

You picked up the packaging. Turned it over in your hand.

Just a handful of these, and all the problems you cause would be over. No more reprimands. No more disappointing everyone you meet. No more wrenching in your gut every time Dr. Chilton looks at you with contempt when you long to see a smile. No more trying so hard every minute of every day.

It wasn’t like too many people would be sad you were gone anyway. Most of them will be relieved.

Your eyes stung.

Wasn’t someone going to walk in and stop you?

Your lip trembled. Why would anyone want to stop you?

Tears rolled down your face as the reality of your plan set in. Survival instinct kicked and clawed at the cloying fog of twisted logic that promised you would be helping everyone if you stopped existing, but it was losing the battle.

And then you heard someone call your name.

You sniffed and looked up. No… not someone calling your name. Moaning it. You crept to the last row of shelves at the back and gasped—Dr. Chilton had his laptop tucked onto a shelf and was watching a clip of security feed on loop. His red, glistening erection thick in his hand as he masturbated, whimpering your name over and over.

You watched silently—he was so engrossed he didn’t notice your shadow falling over the aisle. It was only when the package of drugs slipped from your hand and clattered on the floor that he jumped with a shriek, covering himself, though his massive erection was still conspicuous in his pants. His eyes bugged out at you, face red with embarrassment—but then they quickly narrowed to anger.

“What are you doing in here? You are not authorized to be in this room,” he barked.

All you could think about was what you heard—the name gasping from his lips. It overpowered every other thought. “Were you… imagining me?”

His nostrils flared. He hastily shut the laptop which was looping security footage of you outside his office door.

Then he laughed—forced and cruel. “What I imagine is not your concern. Do not read into it. I have never shown you special treatment, have I? Do you think that I could have feelings for an incompetent nurse?”

“I know that!” Your lip trembled again now that the briefest spark of hope you had was shattered. Of course he didn’t like you. He was just a pervert who jacked off to all the nurses. “Don’t you think I know that I’m worthless? You’ve made it abundantly clear.”

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, and Chilton’s eyes softened, as if for the first time realizing that all his attempts to hurt you had succeeded. You were hurt. And he did not enjoy it as much as he thought.

“You are not worthless,” he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked down to the floor, at the medication you dropped. He picked it up, read what it was. His expression fell. “What were you doing in here, nurse?” he swallowed.

“Nothing. I just… needed something for a patient.”

“Lie,” he said.

You looked away. Everything was numb. It barely even occurred to you that someone stopped you after all. A handsome, awkward, cruel doctor you admired was in the same room with you and had said his first kind words since the day you met.

He took a slow step toward you. Then another. His hand—slender and surprisingly large—pressed your arm in an attempt at a comforting gesture. An alien parroting human behavior.

“You are not worthless. I assure you, none of your mistakes have been grievous. You are certainly not the least competent of my staff. Far from it. So don’t…” He swallowed. “…Do not do anything rash.”

“Sure,” you scoffed. “Then why am I the one you’re always reprimanding? The one always being called to your office?” You knew what he thought of you; he was just trying to talk you down.

“That…” he began in a broken voice, “That must be painfully obvious now.”

Your eyes peeled away from the floor and found his face, and the storm of emotions flashing over it. Shame. Trepidation. A faint light of hope.

“You like me?” Your voice sounded far away. The analytical part of your brain was whirring away above the swamp of depression bogging you down with lies that nobody could like you. But it made sense. As the words spilled from your mouth, it was like a veil lifted.

Pulling pigtails. He was pulling your pigtails because he liked you. A middle-aged psychiatrist ought to have more emotional maturity handling a crush than a third-grader, but there was a reason he worked at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers. There was a reason his staff hated him. Why he was lonely, and why you desperately wanted to be the one to fill the empty space by his side.

Frederick Chilton was a lot like you.

You could understand each other and be less alone in this world, together.

***

His eyes were closed and he was muttering something self-flagellating and vaguely apologetic when the kinetic sense of you moving closer caused Frederick Chilton to look up.

No longer out at arm’s distance, you were within each other’s breathing space. And now, he was genuinely terrified—terrified you were going to return his feelings. Of the joy it might bring crashing down on him like an airplane. He read something he never expected to see in your body language, and it shook him deeper than being walked in on with his cock in his hands.

You should have reported him for ethics violations.

If you made the case to the hospital board that he created a hostile work environment because he wanted you sexually, he would lose his job and do everybody a favor.

But this—the intention in your body—this was the farthest thing from what he deserved. You confirmed his fear when your soft, perfect lips melded against his. Yet, as always when he knew a thing was wrong, he did not push you away. Did nothing to stop you. He let you deepen the kiss slowly, and you were warm, the taste of you sweeter than he imagined in all his lonely nights of fantasizing.

His cock twitched, your closeness awakening his urges again. He moaned as your lips parted, his lips parting with them, and your tongue gently probed inside. You were tentative at first, investigating only the nearest reaches of his inner lips, and then his hand spasmed on your arm, and with a low growl, he pulled your closer—then you became ravenous. All the turbulent emotions churning within you broke free in that kiss. You sobbed into his mouth, your tongue, hot and fervent, explored and assaulted the depths of him, your hands weaving into the hair behind his neck, and he could taste your salt. It was all his tongue could do to keep up—to let himself be consumed.

Dear god, if only that passion would have ended him then and there. The moment your lips met his in an unexpected act of reciprocation was the fulfillment of every want, every tattered and twisted hope—the highest delight a man such as him could achieve. And he knew—rightly so—that all that could follow was suffering of his own design.

Dear god, let me die before I see this in ruins. Let me die with my happiness.

***

The sex wasn’t all that good. But then again, you had gone into that supply closet intending to never come out, so overall, being fucked by the man you had been pining for was a positive turn of events.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Dr. Chilton, pressed against a cold tile wall. A hungry kiss led to his clothed erection pushing against your thigh, led to you unbuckling his belt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered hoarsely, nervous eyes darkened with lust—and you nodded, sliding down your scrub pants, which stuck on your sneakers, hobbling your ankles. He was in too much of a rush to let you take them off—he only opened up his slacks and pulled his cock out of the fly of his briefs. And then he was thrusting into you from behind—frantic, desperate. Your ankles being bound only added to the thrill of him being in control. Dr. Chilton wanted you after all—fantasized about you—and now he was taking you, and all you had to do was surrender to his desire.

His breathy moans rose with each snap of his hips, his hands traveling up your chest under your shirt, fingers curling around your neck, possessing you. Touching every inch of skin he could get his hands on. And that noise that saved your life, your name on his lips, he chanted in your ear.

He was fast—hips racing as if this were his only chance, and if he waited, you would disappear—and he finished fast. You didn’t spend long with your face pressed to the cold tile when his moans broke into a shattered scream, and his head slumped, sweaty, against your back.

Then he turned you around to face him and got on his knees. Heedless of his own mess that he’d left sticky and bitter inside you, he pumped his fingers into you and sucked like he was fulfilling a duty. Clinical about the task, and efficient. It didn’t take him long to bring your arousal to a climax in his mouth.

After, he was quiet. When you had cleaned up, he looked at you like you were a mistake… only you weren’t certain what kind of mistake. If you reached out to reassure him, would he jerk away and tell you to never speak of this again?

“Was it… all you expected?” you asked robotically. Your arm crossed your body, hugging yourself.

And then he kissed you again, softly. He ran his fingers over your hair and pulled back just far enough to study your face. His eyes were wet, clouded with a million thoughts and regrets you would only learn about later.

“You are perfect,” he whispered.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Since I went some places this chapter... Please don’t bottle up your feelings if they’re telling you horrible things about yourself. They aren’t true, I promise. You matter. ❤️

Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

Online chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

Help via Text: https://www.crisistextline.org/ (Text HOME to 741741)

List of additional resources: https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/suicide-resource-guide

Tags:

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #dark fic #angst #This was supposed to be a oneshot! *sobbing* A oneshot!!!#my writing

82 notes · View notes

astormyjet · 3 years

Photo

Winter of 2018 - Summer of 2021 TIME FILES WHEN YOU’RE IN YOUR 20s!!!!

OH BOY. It’s been three years (or more) since I updated this. “Time is a weird soup!” to quote a fave. I guess I quit tumblr around the time there was a purge of content and creators and a smack down on a lot of the fandom communities. Tumblr has always been something of a crapshow though so I’ve been more productive with my time than I was in some ways, but I’ve also found other ways to waste my time. *cough twitter/netflix/youtube/MTGArena cough*.

General Life Achievements since 2018 -JLPT N3 GET in 2019! -Blackbelt GET in 2018! -TESOL 120 Hour and BE 50 Hour Cert from online provider GET in 2021 -STUDENT LOAN BANISHED (Thank you grandparents) -Survived Apartment flooding in early 2020. -Mystery anxiety related illness and chronic pain in my left leg from early 2020 - Present. -A mythical 6th and 7th year on the JET Programme. -Started posting on Instagram a lot more about my wanderings around Matsuyama/Uwajima. Mainly old buildings and stray cats. @astormyknight -Surviving so far in Japan with old rona-chan.

2018 was rough. I was given an additional school in the first semester (March to July) as we had someone find a better job. I enjoyed it, but it was a bit of a rough go especially when I was transferred that August after three fantastic years at Tsubaki JHS and ES and only a semester there. I legit went through the five stages of grief - which I think is another reason I stopped blogging. I was given my current base school along with four other schools. Going from 2(3) to 5 schools was a bit of an adjustment. I still feel a bit spread out.

That said, I keep running into teachers and students who were at the Tsubaki’s. The teachers shuffle around every April, so it's always a lottery with which new faces are going to be old friends (or enemies…). A couple of kids moved and transferred into my current schools from Tsubaki too. So I have one kid I can say I've been teaching for 6 out of the 7 years I've been here!

One of the kids who was in JHS 3rd grade when I first got here (in 2015!) hangs out around one of my favorite cafes, so I got chatting with him recently. He's in his second year of nursing school - his class nearly broke me in the first year, it was really a trial by fire with those kids. I was 22 then, and he’s 20 now, so it was interesting chatting to him about that first year of teaching. His younger sister was one of my favorite students too, she was in the group of kids that graduated in the March of 2018, the year group that went through Tsubaki JHS with me - they’re newly minted University students now!

This Thursday morning when I was cycling in to work, a kid who was 2nd year JHS when I left (so 2nd or 3rd year JHS now) pulled up with their Mum in a van and got their mamachari out of the back to bike to school. The franticness of it all was hilarious. Their Mum legit sat on the horn until I pulled over. I was so happy to run into this kid, even at social distance and both of us late to work/school - because we both remembered each other and as they were going around the corners they were yelling each time they turned and humming the old elementary school directions chant and pelting me with questions about what I’ve been up to.

I've had so many students and schools now, that everything is kind of running into a blur. I remember flashes of kids faces and voices, random memories of in class or out of class shenanigans out of the blue. Also, I now, more than ever, have issues remembering kids' names, but I still know their faces (even with their masks), whose homeroom class they were in, who their friends were and which club they were in. I get random flashbacks to past conversations with them when I see them on the street or we run into each other. I feel bad because the first thing former students ask is ‘Do you remember my name?’ and I always have to be like, ‘Honestly, no, but I remember you did this on x day, x month in x classroom’.

Socially in 2018 -2019 - a few of our friends went home and things shook up a little. Our DnD group changed a bit - one of our players stepped into the role forever DM (THANK YOU RALPH). From memory the newbies were great - some of them just went home at the start of last month and it’s weird not seeing them around (JESS DO YOUR BEST!). I think we only have one or two people left from that rotation. There’s no 6th year ALTs, and only two 5th years.

Aug 2018 - Aug 2019 was the year of Hiura - my mountain school. Dang man, they were so cool. The students of the JHS and the ES combined barely hit 30, so each class was between 3-10 students depending on the grade. It was easier to get to know the kids, their abilities and their goals than it has been for me at other schools. I miss it so bad, being in nature once a week did my country-kid heart so good! The bugs! The frogs! The river! The mountain! The monkeys! The lizards! The dilapidated houses and hidden shrines!!!! The random crabs in the English room...I forgot that there was such a thing as freshwater crabs, and being right next to a river, the invasion wasn’t as out of place as I first thought...

The area is so picturesque and calming. Every week up there was a small adventure (after getting over my motion sickness from the bus ride up). The kids were constantly pranking either myself or the main English teacher. There was always some new weird bug or lizard in a tank to be educated about. There were chickens on the way to the JHS that used to escape from their cardboard box prisons to run riot on the gardens. There were old people to freak out with my youth and foreignness! The kids also got to do a lot of extra classes, sumiyakai (making charcoal the traditional way), planting and maintaining rice paddies, setting up vegetable gardens, raising fireflies, conserving a special breed of fire lily (only found in this particular mountain valley) and another rare flower, wilderness training ect.

I wish I could have stayed there a lot longer but SOMEONE (read...the BoE) decided that schools had to be shuffled again(thank goodness the dude who has it now was able to keep it from the 2021 shuffle, he's the best fit for the school). I had so many good memories from there, I wish I had been more consistent in writing it down. I do have a bunch of photos and videos from there though, so that's nice. The only thing I don’t miss is the bus trip up and down - not only was it motion sickness, there was a healthy dose of fear each ride as the driver brought us perilously close to the edge of the mountain drop…

2019 - 2020 was interesting. With the school I got given instead of the Hirua’s I was roped into more demonstration lessons which was a lot of pressure because I was also involved quite heavily with the JHS observation and training lessons too. They were somewhat rewarding, the third graders are now super smart 5th graders, but the teachers who need to embrace the new curriculum and ways of teaching really haven’t taken on anything from the lessons....

Outside of work as well, I was given the chance, thanks to an ALT buddy of mine, to join in with the local festival. It's been one of the biggest highlights of my time here, and I am gutted it’s been cancelled for the last two years, but I understand the reason…. I was able to travel to Okinawa too during that summer for an international Karate seminar with the Dojo I train with. I met the head of the style I currently practice and a bunch of people from around the world. I also got to see Shuri castle before it burned down. So that was a stroke of luck. One of the places I want to go when/if we get out of this pandemic is Okinawa. I want to see more of those Islands so bad. Just before the whole pandemic thing too - I managed to see the Rugby World Cup, a Canada vs NZ match, I even ran into Tana Umanga in Oita city!!!

2019 - 2020 was supposed to be my last year on JET, so I was frantically Job hunting. I went to the Career Fair in Osaka in early Feb/Late January 2020. I applied and got interviewed for a position in Sendai in early Jan 2020. In the end though - the Rona hit. We started hearing whispers of it around the end of 2019, then the cruise boats happened, and then Japan refused to cancel the Olympics...every holiday season there is a new wave of infections, my nurse friends in Tokyo are struggling....my teacher friends in more populous areas of Japan are struggling…

JET couldn't get new ALTs for 2020-2021, I took the extra year when it was eventually offered, as the one job I had managed to get a serious offer for was hesitating because with the rona setting in, things were uncertain. There was a lot of time spent adjusting to the new rules surrounding what we could do in class with the kids as well as textbook change. Schools shut on and off during the spring months.

I also got a reminder of my mortality mid May with an unrelated illness which is still smacking me around a bit - stress/age, it does things to the human body it has no right to. It's only been in the last three months I’ve been able to exercise like I used to, I’ve put on a bunch of weight I can't shrug off (one part medication, another part diet) My relationship with food needs to change, and I really need a kitchen that allows me for more than one pan meals. I also need to figure out what to do with a left leg that is in constant pain from the knee down and a heart that misses beats when stressed out (mentally and physically…).

My apartment also got flooded by the guy upstairs at one point, I spent most of late February/early March living in a hotel while my walls and floor got redone - I think this was one of the things that really stressed me out and kicked my anxiety right up a notch, it was right when things were getting REALLY bad with rona-chan in Hokkaido and schools were shutting down here as it was filtering into the prefecture and so Japan closed schools for the first time…

Classes in covid times have been weird. We’ve been wearing facemasks full time since the early stages of the pandemic (March 2020) - so I admit that I get a bit pissed off seeing both Americans and New Zealanders back home bitching about just having to start wearing them full time in public. I have asthma and have been suffering with the things on during the 30*C plus with high 90s humidity summers. Teachers were offered vaccines late July 2021, just days before the Olympics were open - and I finished my two shots in the middle of August. But the overall distribution and take up of the jab has been slow. As mentioned above, we can't play a lot of the games we used to play with kids in classes anymore, and a lot of the activities outlined in the textbook curriculum need to be adjusted too, so we’ve had to be creative. We use hand sanitizer a lot more too. One of the things I miss the most though, is eating lunch with the kids.

Socially from summer 2020 - now 2021 we played a lot of DnD and board games, both online and in person when we could. There were no new ALTs again for the 2021-2022 JET year, and those of us who were in 6th year were offered a 7th. Four out of six of us took it. As a whole we’re down from a peak of 38 ALTs for Junior High and Elementary school to 22 for now. We hopefully will get a new person at the end of September, and 4 more in November. Which will bring us to 27. This has led to ANOTHER round of school shuffles.

Summer vacation has been weird the last two years. With rona-chan, we haven’t really been able to travel. All the summer festivals (all the Autumn and Winter ones too!) have been cancelled, so the changing of seasons just feels, wrong. I dunno. There is so much we all miss from pre-rona-chan, and so much that doesn’t happen that makes this just feel like one long long unending year of sadness, coldness, raininess, unbearable heat and repeat. I’m tired. Time is going so fast, but so.dang.slow.

I lost my favorite school (AGAIN GDI!!!) and gained the school I taught a semester at in 2019....I had my first day there on Wednesday. Schools actually started back on September 1st so there was some drama as the BoE didn’t communicate fast enough about our school changes. We legit got told on the 27th of August (on a Friday) our schools were changing effective September 1st, but somehow some of our schools found out on the Monday 30th August. In July we were told we would be changing schools at the end of September, so.a lot of ALTs and schools were left short changed, not having opportunities to say goodbye to co-workers or students/having their planning for the semester more or less thrown out the window too. I love my job. I really dislike the way the BoE treats us, the Japanese assistant language teachers and our schools.

The new school I have is used to having an ALT there twice a week, who plans all the lessons and executes them. I’m at three elementary schools. I'm only at each once a week, I want to plan, but being that I miss an entire lesson in between visits, it's going to be difficult to do so. Not impossible, but being that I'm already doing it for two other schools, who are at two different places in the textbook ah…….. From what I have talked to my new supervisor about though, it sounds like the teachers have taken on more of the lesson planning and I'll be able to contribute ideas when I'm there. I just want to and wish I could do more without being confused all the time. (This is all usually done in my second language too, not in English so extra levels of confusion and miscommunication abound).

I feel like this at my JHS too a lot of the time. I want to contribute more, but even with constant communication with my main in school supervisor (who is a badass and pretty much on the same page about everything with me) I still feel about as useful as tits on a bull. Especially now that classes have been cancelled and or shortened, there's less time to do stuff. Any game or activity I plan is usually cut in favor of making up time in the textbook. When I'm in class, I'm back to being a tape recorder, the fun police and general nuisance.　

Also in the last week...my two of my schools were shut due to students testing positive for the rona. This is the second time my schools have had a scare in the last 8 months. And by shut, I mean the students were all at home, but the teachers all had to come into the office. Because why not I guess….. I mean, the cases increasing is really not unexpected with the amount of people who were travelling over obon and the increase of cases due to the Olympics/Japan being slow on vaccinating/delta being the dominant strain/Japan's leaders doing relatively little except asking shops and restaurants to limit people coming in at one time and closing before 8pm. I know my schools weren't the only one shut either - but still High Schools were having their sports days this week. I kept on seeing groups of kids hanging in the park after, so that was a little bit nerve wracking.

It's just frustrating - we’ve been on half days to “minimize the risk of infection” for kids and teachers, as if only being at school from 8am through to 1pm is going to reduce the risk. My schools have only just started testing out Microsoft teams and Zoom lesson equipment. Thankfully our school’s run in this time was contained real quick, the family was super good about informing us when they got their results back, and the fact they needed to be tested. The homeroom teacher and the students from the same class were the only ones tested, and they all came back clear, which was nice. But the information came back so SLOW.

I’m a little irritated because I found out on Wednesday night what was going on, and even if I am vaccinated, I am super worried that I will end up being the covid monkey due to being at different schools three days out of five. I think other than being worried that I will catch it myself and get real sick, my biggest fear is that I will be protected from bad symptoms from the vaccine, but still be able to pass it onto some of my more vulnerable friends and students. The whole thing is a mess.

Other than Covid and BoE drama, life is good. I’ve had a couple of other big changes - both fantastic and not so great, but yeah. I have my health (and health insurance!) for now. I have a job, for now. I have a sense of existential dread for the next 12 months, but we’ll see where we end up. Life post JET is going to be way less cushy and I am TERRIFIED. I mean, I have a BA in Eng/Ling and no idea what to do with it…..because I am NOT suited for academia.

TLDR: Love my job. Don’t like the system. What is life? Future scary.

#life on JET #blog post #life in Japan #jet programme #jet program

14 notes · View notes

thedenofravenpuff · 3 years

Text

Updates on the Health Department

Been a while since I last updated on how things are going.

Last year my pain and fatigue was finally explained with the diagnosis of fibromyalgia, a disturbance in the nervous system that still hasn’t been fully explained to this day, on what it comes of.

I was written up to see an expert, but was half a year’s wait for my appointment. Last week I finally get to meet the specialist and put under an hour of interview to better pinpoint the details on my specific case.

Great doctor, was very professional but also very engaged and caring through the whole talk, and even praised me for already doing my own research and thoughts on my condition to best answer her questions, so the interview didn’t had to go over time to be completed.

After that was an hour of lecturing me about the conclusion from the interview, on the details for my case of fibromyalgia specifically. She was very thorough and explained in great detail which direction we would be going for treatment and why, including telling me what would not be done and why.

Different options were given for me to consider and then we’ll work from there.

New waiting lists to see a physiotherapist and a psychologist, both specialized in the field of BDS (Bodily Distress Syndrome) that’s the umbrella that covers things like fibromyalgia too.

A strict description of how to change my daily life and how long I’m to expect to go as soft as possible with hope that my body will recover enough to start improving again. Aim is to keep me working at my job still, but with more focus on my limits than what I’ve managed so far.

Gonna talk to my GP to get on part time sick leave, to cut my daily hours without losing my full wage, to see less everyday at work might keep me active without suffering my the lash back of my body collapsing from fatigue. If it works we’ll have a good case to convince the state to put me on the flexjob program, instead of sick leave, to make it more easy for my workplace to work around.

Aim is to cut down my full sick days by keep my active enough while rested more than I usually allow myself. And remove the stress from worrying about my job security. Denmark is very focused on keeping people with chronic illness or handicaps on the job market because it shows a better effect on the health in the long run, rather than just leave people with conditions stuck at home doing nothing.

I’m told that I should expect the full course of treatment to take at least 1-2 years if done right. 50% usually feel a better life quality and 25% even gets better to meet the normal for those not dealing with chronic illness. That’ll be the aim, joining those numbers and get a good life going. Maybe even feel cured one day, just from balancing my body right.

But only time will tell, only just started. And it’s going to be slow. I had already slowed down but the specialist made it clear I hadn’t slowed down enough, why I kept having more and more sickdays.

I’ve sat down with my boss at work to insure my workplace are informed on what my needs are and what tools they’ll have access to too, to not suffer a loss from my inability to work full time. Luckily he’s made it very clear that the company recognizes they rather keep me than let me go for inconvenience. I’m one of the most experienced member of our department with the most training in our specific field, and the one with most patience to train up new workers. So that’s a nice boost to know they still see me as valuable enough to keep.

Seeing me taken aside to talk to the boss, a coworker afterwards all worried took me aside to ask if it had been a talk about getting fired. That absolute relief on his face when I assured it was the other way around, me having a talk on the conditions to keep me working, was heart warming. To know boss and coworkers alike just want to keep me even if I can’t keep up the pace anymore that I used to.

Very welcome boosts to my self esteem and positive thinking, which I’ll need to continue battling this illness. Is not going to turn over night, I have a battle ahead of me of just trying to rewire my own way of thinking to stop pushing myself too hard.

I just hope to get enough energy back that I can draw more consistently again. Just these last couple of days I’ve had enough fatigue to make it too difficult to hold a pencil steady long enough to draw a proper piece. I’m very eager whenever I have energy long enough to draw a full piece, as art as my hobby means so much to me.

Why I still don’t open for commissions to new clients, it would just make me stress myself unnecessarily if I can’t get to the wanted productivity.

But enough rambling for now, already written a wall of text as is.

Been a long journey with still plenty more ahead of me to come.

Thanks for getting this far in this long tangent on my health X3;

#PuffBlog #Update #Status #Health #Fibromyalgia #FM #Bodily Distress Syndrome #BDS

21 notes · View notes

maatryoshkaa · 4 years

Text

young god | chapter 12

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 4.5k

warnings: descriptions of violence, foul language, allusions to trauma and mental illness

description: Prosecutor Kim Seungmin faces pressures from his coworkers about the serial killer case. When Jisung wakes up next to you, remorse and doubt sends him back onto the streets, where one wrong decision finally leads to him doing the one thing he had feared above all.

watch the trailer here!

12| point of no return.

“Well, well, well — look what the cat dragged in.”

Kim Seungmin winced at the sound of Prosecutor Kang’s haughty voice as soon as he stepped into the office. The older prosecutor’s words had made all the others look up from their desks, directing several pairs of eyes onto the younger man, who was actively trying his best not to tuck his head down and fold in on himself to avoid their scrutiny. To Seungmin’s dismay, Kang continued speaking.

“If it isn’t our newest prosecutor. How are you holding up, Kim? I heard there have been more attacks — a witness, even. Shameful, really, how they had to call a lockdown just to keep things under control.”

Seungmin swallowed a lump in his throat, forcing his jaw to unclench. “We’ve—been actively gathering evidence.” While it was true — Chan and Woojin had called him to the precinct in the middle of the night to preserve witness statements, and he’d spent the last few days searching through Miroh Heights for clues — the words sounded incredibly lame nonetheless. Sure enough, Kang snorted, and a few other prosecutors shifted uncomfortably.

“What kind of evidence, Kim? Enlighten me.”

“The suspicion has been placed on Miroh Heights’ students after interviewing the last witness. And we have reason to suspect that the perpetrator is mentally unstable, or at least harbours some sort of...trauma, due to the erratic selection of their victims.” Seungmin cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. He had only repeated what he’d theorised together with Chan and Woojin, after all.

“I’m just finding it strange — embarrassing, really — how it seems like you’re getting everything handed to you, Prosecutor Kim, and yet you’re still taking this long to reach a verdict.” Kang raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you're hesitant? Indecisive, or uncertain?”

“Beginner’s nerves, perhaps?” One woman piped up, and a few workers around her stifled their chuckles.

Seungmin clenched his fists, hoping the others couldn’t see. “Dealing with a mentally unstable serial killer calls for a different approach, Kang. We have to keep into consideration how accountable they are to be held for their actions, and—”

“There is no room for a wavering heart in prosecution,” Kang interrupted coldly, his eyes two black daggers. “What you think is being kind or empathetic is a weakness, kid. Focus on the incriminating evidence, not the humanity in the perpetrator — after all,” he gave a leer, “anyone who murders humans is a monster — and monsters deserve to be punished, don’t you think?”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, and Seungmin ripped his gaze from Prosecutor Kang’s expectant face.

“I assure you, that is what I intend to do.” With that, Seungmin brushed past Prosecutor Kang, suddenly grateful that his office was further down the hallway. The woman who had tried speaking up for him on his first day flashed him a sympathetic look as he passed, but it only made him feel worse. Was he really that...weak? Incompetent?

If catching this killer and condemning them was what it took to get Prosecutor Kang off his back, then that was exactly what Seungmin would do. He shut the door to his office, a bit harder than he meant to, and opened his briefcase on his desk, organizing his notes.

It was time to hunt a killer.

━━━━━━━━

All was quiet when Jisung awoke, eyes blinking as they opened and adjusted to the hazy morning light. He was in a room with off-white ceilings and walls, and the dusty blue curtains were open, fluttering lightly from a soft breeze. His even breathing filled the air — for the first time in what seemed like forever, he hadn’t had nightmares. His eyes wandered to the windows, wincing slightly — it was a cloudy day, the kind where looking at the grey sky stung his eyes. Aside from the light wind, the room was absolutely still. Almost as if it was holding its breath.

Jisung turned to the side, freezing when he saw your sleeping face next to him. You were sleeping with no pillow, and Jisung realised with a sharp pang of guilt that you had placed the only one on the bed under his head instead. He slowly slid his palm beneath your cheek, lifting your head as gently as he could before pushing the pillow between you and the mattress instead. You immediately buried your face into the softer fabric, still fully asleep, and Jisung chuckled. For a long moment, he gazed down at your sleeping figure, a bittersweet warmth spreading in his chest. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead, eyes momentarily closing.

Jisung felt your hand reach up for him and he pulled away slightly, worried that he’d woken you. When he saw that your eyes were still shut, chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm, he let out a breath of relief. Your fingers grazed his shoulder and there was a slight furrow beginning to form in your brow, and suddenly he was reminded of the previous night — when you had looked at him with the same confused, horrified expression; when you had instinctively pushed him away, looking ready to run.

He looked down at you now, gut twisting as he frowned — were you having nightmares? Were they—were they about him? Memories flooded his mind from last night: him running back to your apartment; your face, twisted with disbelief and horror; all the things he had ended up telling you. Each memory sent a wave of panic through him, a cold sweat beginning to form at the back of his neck. Jisung pulled away, sitting up and burying his head in his hands.

What had he done?

All he could think about was the way you had looked at him when you had first found out — the betrayal, fear, raw pain scrawled across your features. That was what you thought of the real him — wasn’t it? Your shaking hands, wavering pupils, the tears brimming in your eyes — the images kept flashing in his mind, patching themselves over the memories of your laugh, the way your entire face would light up, your reddened cheeks and ears when you got embarrassed.

They were all as good as lost once he’d told you the truth.

Even though you had let him sit down, let him stay — he swore he caught the way you stiffened slightly beneath his touch, the way you had begun avoiding his gaze. And when you did look at him — it was like he was a ticking time bomb.

Jisung slid off the bed onto his feet. Instinctively, he began pacing, his heart pounding louder and louder with every step. His chest was closing up again, the floor was beginning to spin, the thoughts were all too, too much. With one hand still clasped around his head, he bolted out of the bedroom and down the hall, coming to an unsteady halt when he reached the living room. Jisung’s vision spun, a wave of nausea inching up his throat as his gaze landed on the vase of peach coloured roses sitting on the coffee table.

He seized the vase and brought the flowers closer to his face. They were the ones he had bought on your first date. A short laugh pushed through his lips, and even the subtle twitch of a tentative smile tugging at his cheeks felt painful.

“First date, kid?” The florist had a lopsided grin on her face, already reaching for the shelves of rose bouquets behind her.

“Um, yeah. I—I don’t want...red roses, though. Do you have, um, anything else?” Jisung watched the florist’s brow furrow at his words.

“Hm. Roses are a classic go-to, kid, but...ah!” Her face lit up, snapping her fingers as she reached for a different bouquet. “These are much prettier, in my opinion. Peach roses!”

Jisung took the bouquet from her curiously as she continued, “Red might come off a little strong ‘n cliche, yeah? So the peach hue makes ‘em look softer. The colour symbolises strength and resilience, so here’s to wishing you and your lucky girl a love that stands the tests of time, hm?”

They were nearly all wilted now, the edges shrivelled and the leaves drooping. But the scent dripping from the petals was heavy, so thick it seemed to make his legs buckle from dizziness. Jisung set the vase back down too hard and it struck the corner of the coffee table, wobbling precariously, and before Jisung could reach out to catch it the vase toppled over the edge and shattered against the floor.

The crash that rang through your silent apartment sounded deafening, and Jisung whipped his gaze towards the bedroom where you were sleeping. Dried petals and glass were splayed across his feet as he stumbled back, his heel snagging painfully on a thorn. His blood was roaring in his ears as he held his breath, expecting you to wake up at any second. But a minute passed, then another, and Jisung finally tore his gaze away, fists unclenching slightly.

You don’t belong here.

The words rang in his head, an incessant throb that grew stronger with every heartbeat. Every part of him was screaming at Jisung to run — to leave behind the mess he had already made before it was too late; before the police found him with you, before he could hurt you any more than he already had—and with that last fear pounding through his skull, Jisung slipped on his shoes, threw open the front door, and broke into a run.

You don’t belong here. Get out. Get out. GET. OUT.

The clouds were stitching themselves together over the hazy sun when he sprinted outside, casting a dark grey shadow over the entire city. Jisung’s mind was racing as he ducked into the first alleyway he saw, narrowly missing a police cruiser that had turned around the corner onto your street. Where could he go? The dorms? Another cafe? He risked another glance out onto the main street, heart sinking at the sheer amount of officers patrolling the road. He shook his head. He had to get away — where, exactly, he wasn’t sure — but he needed to get out of Miroh Heights.

Jisung darted down backstreets and alleyways, growing increasingly aware of the rumbling of thunder overhead and the light droplets of rain beginning to splatter onto his skin. When he reached a narrow strip between two brick buildings, a strange feeling of deja vu sent a chill trickling down his spine. Shaking the feeling off, Jisung pushed through the path, eyes fixed on the wavering sliver of gray light at its end—until the alleyway opened up into the familiar back parking lot of a diner.

Mia’s Diner.

The toe of Jisung’s shoe caught on the uneven gravel and he stopped running, chest heaving. Of all the shortcuts he could have chosen, this one had lead him all the way back here. To his relief, he noticed the lot was relatively secluded—the back of the diner and a tall stack of Dumpsters hid him from the main street, while a thicket of trees and the two buildings that had formed the alleyway closed up the space behind him. Even in the growing fog, he could spot the diner’s bright neon sign on the roof.

His gaze wandered towards the diner’s windows, which were glowing like a row of dim eyes. The tables were empty, a bored waitress sipping a milkshake by the counter with her back turned. His eyes landed on the window side booth from your first date. Your first date, what felt like an eternity ago.

“O-oh, hi! You’re…”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.”

It had been raining that day, too, hadn’t it? Sheets of water that had swept the streets, soaked his shoes, and nearly torn the heads off the roses he’d bought on the way. And when the storm had cleared in the evening, the way the sunset had bathed the city in gold. A small smile tugged at his lips, vision fogging over at the memory. Your warm touch on his cheek. Your tentative fingers in his hair.

The warmth turned ice cold as soon as he spotted a familiar alley in the corner of his eye, and like a stormcloud splitting wide open, all the uglier memories began spilling out instead. The brick walls that felt like they were closing in on him, the prostitute’s catlike eyes, the choking darkness of an unkept, one-bedroom bungalow, fresh, hot blood spilling onto his hands and vodka flames licking at his feet—

“Han Jisung!”

The unfamiliar voice pulled Jisung out of his thoughts. A group of male students had come around the diner, a stocky boy with a buzzcut at their head. Jisung narrowed his eyes, clenching his fists involuntarily. He had seen them before, somewhere — a club, perhaps, or a late-night party…

“That’s cold, man — aren’t you gonna greet your old friends?” The boy with the buzzcut stopped just short of a metre from Jisung — too close for his liking — and spat on Jisung’s shoes.

“Kid’s been off in the head since the orphanage,” a taller boy with dirty blond hair that fell to his chin grinned. “Isn’t that so?”

Something in the back of Jisung’s mind clicked and he squinted in the growing darkness, eyes focusing on their faces. The orphanage. The other boys he and Minho had grown up with. After they’d all been released from the children’s home, Jisung had seen a few of them in passing — some had barely managed to get into college, while most of the others had dropped altogether and lingered around the town like parasites.

Jisung lifted his gaze back to the stocky boy’s face, a humourless chuckle escaping his lips. His former classmates shifted nervously.

“Fucking psycho,” someone behind the boy muttered.

“Well, that’s what he is, isn’t he?” The blond boy continued, a sneer growing on his crusted lips. He had a hand shoved into his pockets, and Jisung heard the sound of something metal clinking—a lighter? “Remember what they say brought him to the orphanage?” He took a step closer to Jisung, lowering his voice. “Arson. Patricide.”

“Get away from me,” Jisung breathed, his throat dry. The ringing in his ears was growing more and more high pitched with every second, and his limbs felt stiff — as if he could will himself to stay still, to stay in control.

“Is it true, then? You killed your old man and set his corpse on fire? Is that your dirty little secret?” The boy with the buzzcut jerked his head towards the distant screeching sirens on the main street. “Are those because of you, too?”

Dead silence fell between them, the gang’s mocking smiles boring into him. The boy with the buzzcut tilted his head, snorting when Jisung only stared back at him.

“Forget it. There’s no way he’s the serial killer.” A third boy behind them spoke, his eyes raking Jisung up and down in a leer. “Looks like he’s about to piss his pants — probably can’t throw a punch to save his life. He’s a runner, that’s what he is.”

The blond boy laughed, fingers jabbing at Jisung’s shoulder and pushing him back. “You’re right about that one. Han Jisung, always running away. Just like your momma, yeah? Momma’s boy.” At that, Jisung’s gaze flickered up to meet the blond boy’s, eyes narrowing in wary confusion.

“What? Your momma always ran from your old man, didn’t she? Didn’t how how to do anything else. And every time your old man beat her bloody...” the boy with the buzzcut reached for Jisung’s lowered head, ruffling his hair and snickering when Jisung flinched away. “You ran away from her, too, yeah?”

Jisung froze, his fingers numb. He had been clenching his fists so tightly the blood circulation was cut off, his hands beginning to tremble as a horribly familiar ache pulsed in his temples. But before he could bring himself to move, the boy with the buzzcut suddenly tightened his grip on Jisung’s hair, yanking his head back hard.

“Fuckin’ mute bastard’s pissing me off. Try running now, Han.”

A fist came out of nowhere and smashed into the side Jisung’s jaw. He flew backwards, the back of his head slamming into hard gravel. For a moment, his vision went black, before coming back in fuzzy, burning flashes. His eyes had already been watering — both from his headache and the boy’s harsh grip on his hair — and just as Jisung was blinking the sand from his eyes he felt a foot crash into his ribs and knock the air straight out of his lungs.

Jisung could barely hear their taunts over his own choked coughing, his fingers scrabbling through the dusty ground as he tried to pull himself up. Pain coursed through his bones like liquid fire, sending waves of nausea shooting up his gut and black spots dancing across his vision.

“Shit, it’s like hitting a little girl,” the boy with the buzzcut muttered. “C’mon, Han, put some fight into it, will ya?” He dropped down into a squat until they were nearly face to face, his squinty eyes twisted into a permanent sneer. “Pretend I’m your old man or someth—”

Jisung’s hand shot out, seizing the front of the boy’s shirt. He saw the sneer freeze on the boy’s face for a split second before Jisung drove his fist into the boy’s nose.

“Fffuckin’ hell!” The boy toppled back screaming, blood beginning to spurt from his face as he scrambled away frantically. One boy wearing a letterman jacket immediately moved to push Jisung back down. Hooking a foot around the boy’s legs, Jisung kicked hard and brought the boy crashing down to the ground. He pulled himself back to his feet shakily, reddening vision scanning the remaining boys that were closing in on him.

“Now you’re asking for it, kid,” the blond boy growled, grabbing Jisung’s collar. Before he could register the blond boy’s fingers curling into a fist, a hot flash of pain flared across Jisung’s cheekbone and his head snapped to the side. When Jisung turned his head back, locks of his own hair fell into his eyes, beads of sweat beginning to make them stick to his brow.

Another punch, then another, then another. Jisung could feel cuts splitting open on his cheeks and lips, as if his blood was demanding to be let out. A smile began stretching across his bruised lips, growing wider and wider with every blow. Jisung had lost count by the time the blond boy stopped momentarily, breathing hard, beady blue eyes searching Jisung’s face.

“The fuck?” His chest was heaving as he shook Jisung like a ragdoll. The younger boy was beginning to laugh — his hair obscured most of his face, revealing only bloodstained teeth. “Are you—you a fuckin’ psycho or somethin’?”

The laughter ripping from his vocal chords felt more like sobs; as soon as the first one rolled off his tongue Jisung couldn’t stop the rest from bubbling up his throat. The blond knocked his head to the side again before jamming his fingers into Jisung’s forehead. “Hey, freak. I asked you a question.”

Jisung’s eyes were hazy, his face throbbed, the boy’s finger felt like a knifepoint in his skin.

“If you ever speak a word of this to your mother, boy, I’ll ram that camera right into your skull.”

This felt familiar.

He shook his hair out of his face and stared straight into the blond’s eyes. “You want me to pretend you’re my father?”

For a moment the blond boy’s grin faltered, a flash of fear skipping across his pupils, but Jisung barely noticed. His hands shot out, seizing the blond by the throat in a horribly familiar chokehold. The boy cried out in silent surprise, losing his balance, and Jisung took the chance to force him all the way backwards into the diner’s brick wall. The sickening crack when the boy’s skull hit the bricks seemed to send a shudder into Jisung’s hands and body, and the high pitched ringing in his ears finally snapped.

Pure red poured into his vision as he threw punch after punch, pinning the taller boy to the wall. Jisung couldn’t tell if the screaming was the boy’s, or his, or both — or if there was any screaming at all; all he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat. Somewhere, in the back of his head, a small voice was begging for him to stop, but it grew weaker and weaker with every blow.

FATHER. FATHER. FATHER.

He felt hands grabbing at his shoulders as one boy tried to pull him back and Jisung whirled back momentarily, kicking him in the chest. The blond was beginning to grow limp, each hit feeling more and more like Jisung was punching a bag of wet rocks. Jisung felt a distant, stinging pain in his abdomen as he finally let the boy slide to the ground in a broken heap, and vaguely registered a spot of dark blood spreading across his own shirt. His shaky pupils fell on the unconscious boy’s hands, which were clutching a metal switchblade, its tip smeared with blood — Jisung’s blood.

So that had been the metallic sound from earlier. At some point—Jisung couldn’t recall when—the boy must have tried to stab him before he finally fell unconscious.

There were three of them left — four, if you counted the boy with buzzcut hair, bleeding out on the ground from his broken nose. Head buzzing, Jisung leaned down to scoop the blade from the boy’s limp hands as the rest of them closed in.

Jisung could barely see what he was doing; it had begun to rain, clouds casting inky darkness around them despite it being noon. The rain tasted sour as it mixed with foreign blood, the flash of the knife the only light visible. He could no longer hear the words that they were screaming as he buried the blade into every surface that came near him; all he could see were scenes from that day. It was like he had been swallowed back into the nightmare, his gut twisting like he had been thrown over the edge of a cliff and was hurtling towards the ground. His mother’s blood pooling over slivers of splintered wood, her pleading eyes, the water boiling over in the kitchen, the glass shards carving the hellish memories into the soles of his bare feet. It was his father — his father again, trying to kill them, trying to kill them all, and Jisung was fighting back. His father’s red face — or was it the boys’ terrified faces? The glint of his father’s lighter, or the shining tears of pain from the boy whose bones he was breaking? It was horrible — or was it was exhilarating?—and everything Jisung could see was red, red, endless red.

He didn’t know when they had all ended up on the ground, the last conscious boy trembling feebly beneath him. The tiniest voice echoed in his ears as he brought the knife down again and again in terrible arcs, the warm spurts of blood onto his face feeling like a demon’s caress.

So this is what it feels like to be a monster.

Jisung was shuddering, fingers slippery with blood and rain. His ears felt as though they were underwater, a muffled voice beginning to echo through the haze.

“Ji...Ji…”

He shook his head wildly, eyes cloudy with water, but the voice persisted. It was getting louder now, growing clearer and clearer, as if it was dragging him back up from the darkness.

“Ji...sung. Jisung?”

Was the voice calling for him? The ground felt shaky beneath Jisung’s knees. He had lost his grip on the knife, his tremulous fingers tightening around the sharp blade and sending dull pain searing through his skin. He was going too far — it was too much, it was all too much — he needed to calm down, he needed an anchor to reality, he needed to be back in control before it was too late —

“...sungie? J-Jisung?”

Feeling like his hand wasn’t his own, Jisung whirled around, switchblade swinging across his blurred vision in a terrible arc, and plunged the knife into a mass of darkness.

The moment he made impact, the cloudiness in his head began to clear away, the numbness leaving his body like venom had been sucked clean from his veins. Jisung let out a shuddering breath. He had done it, it was over, something — or someone had pulled him out of the nightmare. The rain was falling harder now, a crack of lightning flashing over the puddles around him, but all was quiet as his eyes focused in the hazy darkness.

Eerily quiet, save for a muffled, shaky gasp of pain that made Jisung lift his gaze from the bloodstained gravel up to —

You.

“Y-Y/N?” His own voice sounded raw, as if he’d been screaming for hours. “What are...w-why are you...here?” You were staring back at him with impossibly wide eyes, and he realised one of your hands had been clutching his arm. It was already beginning to shake as you pulled it back towards your chest, and you looked down. Time seemed to stop as Jisung’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he slowly followed the line of your gaze.

All the way to the switchblade buried deep in your chest.

“H-how did that—w-what happ—” Jisung looked down, breaking off when he saw the pools of blood welling in his palms and soaking the front of his shirt. “N-no. I—Did I—”

The sight of your face left him speechless, another flash of lightning reflecting off the stunned tears that were falling from your eyes. Your expression mirrored his own — frozen in equal parts surprise and agony — but what wrenched Jisung’s heart was the complete absence of anger on your face.

Mouth slightly parted, you slowly shook your head, and Jisung felt a sudden, sharp pain twist his chest as if he’d been the one stabbed in the heart. Thunder rumbled above and as he opened his mouth to call your name, just as your eyes rolled back and you fell with a dull thud onto the soaked pavement.

“N-no. Don’t do this, not again, I c-can’t—”

The wind was howling in Jisung’s ears. He was screaming your name like it was the only thing he had ever learned but his head was pounding again, and it was like he had been thrust back underwater again, unable to hear his own voice. The rain was plummeting in torrents, as if the sky had been split wide open with an axe, the fat drops cutting at his bruised cheeks like shards of broken glass. The wail of police sirens was growing closer and closer, and suddenly,Jisung was ten years old again — cradling the last thing he had loved in a growing pool of blood, sobs racking through his body like gunshots.

Crimson was blooming rapidly through the front of your shirt. The neon lights of the diner burned at the corner of his eye, and a faint, warm memory echoed in the back of his mind.

“Least favourite colour?”

“Red.”

“W-well, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing red, then, huh?”

“No. No, I’m sure you would still look pretty in red.”

Red. It was everywhere; his shaking pupils took in the blood soaking your clothes, staining your skin, running from his fingers into your hair.

No, he decided in that moment; you looked absolutely, horrifically, bad in red.

━━━━━━━━

Maybe it was the sirens wailing all throughout Miroh Heights, painting the streets in blurs of blue and red. Or maybe it was the thunderstorm pounding on the windows of the hospital all day, as if it was crying out for a lost love. Nobody could say why, exactly, for certain.

But that night, somewhere in the heart of the city, Yang Jeongin opened his eyes for the first time in three months.

846 notes · View notes

ncisladaily · 3 years

Link

With her NCIS: Los Angeles run having come to an end, Renée Felice Smith is ready for her next chapter — somewhat literally, being an author as well as an actress.

In the CBS drama’s Season 12 finale, Smith’s Nell Jones made the decision to not officially sign on as the “new Hetty”/Operations Manager, but instead join partner Eric Beale on an adventure to Tokyo, to head up his tech venture. But before driving off into the sunset, Nell briefly reunited with long-MIA Hetty herself, in costar Linda Hunt’s first on-set appearance of the season.

With NCIS: LA bidding adieu to both her and scene partner Barrett Foa, Smith — who joined the show early in Season 2 — spoke with TVLine exclusively about that emotional if bittersweet Nell/Hetty reunion, being an inspiration to smart girls, and what’s next for her as a legit storyteller herself.

TVLINE | How did you learn that this would be your swan song, and what was your initial reaction? Well, I think it’s complicated. I mean, I think that I’ve been ready for my next chapter for a while now, in whatever form it will take. But it’s surely to be centered around storytelling. I hesitate to be part of the “cliché actress” calling herself a storyteller, but I really am one. I’m a writer. I’m a director. We are developing television currently. We have another indie in the works. I want to tell compelling stories, poignant stories that offer an escape and chance of reflection for the viewer, so that’s where my focus is.

TVLINE | But as far as Nell leaving, I for one was quite surprised, because I felt like this season was such a journey for the character. They’d really been shaping her to assume this position of authority. It’s so true. I absolutely loved Nell’s journey this season. She really got to stand in her power. She really found her voice, and as a young woman it was empowering to play that side of the scene. Nell, I think, is a natural leader, and I really do think her strength as a leader is her vulnerability. I think that Nell has empathy for all players involved in the story. She can see multiple sides of the story. She’s a person that’s not only intelligent but she has emotional intelligence, and that has been such a gift for me as an actor to play. I’ve just loved her evolution, really. She started as a sidekick and she really, quite effectively, was the boss this year, and I had a fantastic time playing it.

Kilbride (played by Gerald McRaney) recently spoke to her unique strengths, saying to “stop asking yourself what would Hetty do” and just be Nell. And that really is such a necessary message. There’s a scene that I absolutely love with Miguel Ferrer, my dear Miguel, from a while back, and it was a similar sort of scene where he was trying to instill confidence in her as a leader. I actually have the quote: Miguel’s character, Granger, says to Nell, “Never belittle yourself or your accomplishments. You deserve the respect you’ve gotten. You’ve earned it.” I remember feeling so choked up in that scene, and I’ll get choked up now thinking about it.

Kilbride, similarly to Granger, has a real kind of affection for Nell and saw that potential in Nell. He wanted to foster her confidence in herself, and it was very moving to play those scenes. I feel like as a young woman we are often in a position where we may doubt ourselves just because of the social climate, but in the end I think it’s about trusting yourself. Nell really grew into a person who started trusting herself and making decisions for her, rather than trying to please. I’m a natural-born people pleasure, and I think Nell is, too. High-functioning overachievers always are. So, I think Nell’s decision at the close of the season really is her ultimately finding her voice and really having agency over her future and what it is she wants to do.

I know how difficult that is. It is reflective of my own journey and my own life. So, to be able to step forward and say, “You know what, this is the path I want to take now and I’ll potentially disappoint people while doing it, I commend Nell for her bravery in that.

What did it mean to you have Linda Hunt back for one final scene with you? Oh, my God…. My heart. Linda is just a magical creature. To have her back was really quite emotional. She was essentially sidelined by the pandemic, as you could imagine, so to even see her in the flesh, let alone share a scene with her

TVLINE | And a hug. And a hug, come onnnn! Chef’s kiss, you know? And the scene is really a bittersweet reunion. Nell really wants nothing more than to stay and catch up with her mentor, but she can’t. So, it’s kind of this “goodbye for now” scene.

TVLINE | [Showrunner] Scott [Gemmill] told me that Linda was thrilled to be back on set. She was like a kid in a candy shop. She was glowing. She was crackling. She was so alive in the scene. Whenever I’m in a scene with Linda, I’m a student. She really is such a master of the craft, and I’m a little sponge. I’m soaking it all up, and really, truly watching her work has been the most educational process for me. I just feel like truly I’ve been attending the MasterClass with one of the best, one of the greats, and I’m so grateful for my friendship with her as well. She’s my bud. She texts me lots of emojis.

TVLINE | You once told me about how you would go to lunch and you’d get all these Hollywood stories, including about her “Mary Tyler Moore moment” when she first went to live in New York…. My God, she dropped that story on me right before a walk-and-talk where I had tons of technical jargon, and I remember I was welling up just at the image of 16 or 18-year-old Linda Hunt getting into a cab and drinking in the big city and the possibilities that it held for her. She’s such a gift.

How nervous were you to shave Barrett’s mustache? I knew we only had one take and I knew it had to be good. My mom is a hairdresser and I watched her kind of do all of that kind of beard shaping for years, so I just kind of channeled my mom. I knew I needed a steady hand, and I just went for it. But I think he was a little nervous.

TVLINE | Would you like to be a part of Episode 300 (airing late next season), if asked? Of. Course.

TVLINE | What’s next for you? Like I said, storytelling. We just released our first children’s book, Hugo and the Impossible Thing, which is inspired by our canine son Hugo. Chris [Gabriel] — my partner, my other half, my creative partner — and I wrote the book about our dog who recovered from a really life-threatening illness. It was an inoperable brain tumor that most everyone told us would be impossible to beat. But through the help of some truly brilliant doctors and Hugo’s own determination, he made it to the other side and he lived a full life. It was this miracle that we witnessed, and we knew we needed to pass on Hugo’s message and let it inspire others.

I think oftentimes challenges in life are labeled as “impossible” when in reality they’re just extremely difficult. Of course, yes, certain things are impossible — I’m not going to be 6-foot-2 any time soon — but most of the time an obstacle or a challenge is just something we have to work our way around. So, we created the metaphor of the impossible thing. It’s out in the world now.

TVLINE | Lastly, any message for the fans? Oh, for sure. Ultimately, I could say something profound but I just want to say thank you. Thank you for respecting Nell. Thank you for embracing Nell, for embracing her intelligence. I’ve always been cast as kind of the “funny friend,” the quirky turkey. I was the nurse in Romeo & Juliet when I auditioned for Juliet in high school. But with Nell, I really got to play so much more, and I am just so grateful to have been able to play the “smart girl,” quite frankly.

Someone actually shared a really touching story with me not long ago, actually. I was standing in line at a coffee shop in New York, and I heard this kind of grumble behind me. Someone asked, “Are you Nell Jones from NCIS: LA?,” and I kind of winced, afraid to turn around. I know native New Yorkers, I was thinking, “What did I do wrong? Did I accidentally cut the line or not cover my mouth when I sneezed?” So, I turned around to face this person and they proceeded to tell me about their 12-year-old daughter who wasn’t like the other girls in her class. She was interested in science and forensics and computers. This woman told me that a lot of times as a mother, she didn’t know what to do with her daughter, and that Nell and the character that I played for the last 10 years had helped her daughter to find some confidence in who she was and what she wanted to be.

So, if my time at NCIS: LA helped a young girl to see the possibility in pursuing a career in intelligence or technology… visibility is everything. If the image of Nell Jones as the brightest bulb in the room can instill confidence in a 12-year-old girl and affect her future, I mean, that’s the ultimate win. That’s it. That’s truly more than I ever could have asked for.

#s12 #interview #Renee Felice Smith #ncis la #ncisla #NCIS Los Angeles

16 notes · View notes