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meichenxi · 4 years ago

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*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid.

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story.

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice.

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose?

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then.

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some.

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind.

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them.

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that.

suddenly, no one sees her at all.

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own.

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are -

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students’. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway.

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things??

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity.

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me.

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time.

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved.

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most.

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily.

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life.

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good.

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side.

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

#neurodivergence #neurodivergent #adhd #autism #giftedness #gifted kids #tag for this fucking awful school system?#neurodivergent kids #parenting #education #long post #meichenxi rants #mental health #trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #sorry for the scary tags I don't mean the post to be scary I'm just annoyed #and it got longer than I thought it would

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kim-seungmine · 5 years ago

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dream the night away

title: dream the night away

characters: (fem) reader x hwang hyunjin of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life, romance, angst, best friends to lovers au, idol au, idol!hyunjin, hyunjin centric, inspired by 3racha’s cloud 9 but not really?

warnings: minor character death, sometimes heavy, slow burn (aka i wanted it to be but i wasn’t patient enough), i tried to proofread, i gave up trying to format text convo on tumblr, i think they kiss a lot.

word count: 11.6k i’m so sorry

synopsis: one night, hyunjin wonders how he long can stay floating on cloud 9 before he loses his balance and falls all the way down to the pits of hell. After that, nothing feels right.

disclaimer: this is idol!hyunjin so i just wanna say that this is not how hyunjin is in real life and im not trying to convince you that he feels the things in the story. some parts are inspired by the things they’ve said but everything that happens here is pure fiction... which actually goes without saying since this is a fanfic, but i just feel the need to say it. for my personal long ass author’s note, you can read it below.

Hyunjin is met with darkness when he steps into the dorm. It used to be more packed, it used to be messier, and it used to be really loud. Now he only shares the dorm with the 00z who are surprisingly quiet if you think about it. Seungmin sleeps early, Felix has his headphones stuck to his ears and plays games until the sun rises, and Jisung is snugged somewhere watching movies. On busier days, Seungmin and Felix are at the company for lessons and Jisung spends the night at the studio with Chan and Changbin. Hyunjin, meanwhile, usually has some photoshoots.

However, tonight feels unnaturally quiet, especially since Hyunjin has just won his first Bonsang as a solo artist. He switches the lights on, and his friends are soundlessly huddled together by the fridge, Jisung holding a small cake.

“Surprise!” Seungmin exclaims rather flatly as Hyunjin drops to the floor out of shock, shouting profanities. Felix proceeds to grab some candles from the kitchen counter and lights them up. “Come on, blow the candles."

Hyunjin lets out an amused sigh, rising to his feet before blowing all the candles out. “Please tell me these aren’t those candles that stay lit n—what the hell.”

He continues blowing, his friends giggling while Seungmin groans. “Why did you have to curse? I was about to post that on Instagram Story!”

“Why are we doing this anyways? We’re not 18 anymore,” Hyunjin protests half-heartedly. He can’t really remember the last time they gave each other a proper surprise. It feels like ages ago. Jisung scoffs, searching for a knife inside one of the kitchen drawers. Slicing the cake, he retorts, “Your dramatic ass loves surprises, stop denying it.”

“Anyone has anything to do tonight? The hyungs want to come over,” Felix informs while typing on his phone. Hyunjin’s vibrates after a few seconds; everyone on the Stray Kids group chat must be congratulating him.

Seungmin opens the chat, frowning. “Where’s Jeongin?”

“He hasn’t been replying since hours ago. That brat probably fell asleep. Just ask his bro if he’s home,” Hyunjin suggests, about to reply to Chan’s message when another message pops up.

y/n: sorry i couldnt watch the show

y/n: but i saw the news! congratulations!!

y/n: so proud of you, as always!

Hyunjin’s eyes light up at your messages. It’s been months since he saw you; he’s been busy with his solo debut and you’ve been busy with school. When both of you were children, you often pictured how life would be. Hyunjin would be a famous soccer player for Manchester United and the captain of South Korea national team. You would be studying to become a doctor.

He finds it funny that you’re doing the exact same thing while he’s doing something he never even imagined before. Hyunjin is always amazed at how well you planned your whole life and executed every single plan, albeit not always instantly.

After all these years, though, he dares to say that both of you turned out okay. Amazing, even.

“Order whatever you want. I’m eating outside but I’ll be back soon,” Hyunjin tells his friends, bombarding you with messages before you turn your phone off, the thing you always do when you’re about to cram.

Seungmin arches an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

“Yeah. I asked whether she wants to eat gopchang with me.”

“You should really be careful.”

“Everyone knows we’re best friends. No one will make a weird rumor or anything.”

Jisung clicks his tongue. “Well, do you?”

Whenever someone talks about you, it always leads to this very conversation. Hyunjin decides to let Jisung’s question (sarcasm) hang in the air, but he knows the answer. Yes, he knows you and him are just best friends. Does he like it that way?

Hyunjin knows the answer to that too. He only pretends that he doesn’t.

You’re already slurping your soup when Hyunjin says hi to the restaurant owners, Mr and Mrs. Jang. “Oh Hyunjinnie, I just watched you on TV. You won something, right?” he asks. His wife ushers him to sit down, putting extra servings of kimchi on the table.

“Why didn’t I get extra kimchi?” You pout, shooting a jealous glare at Hyunjin who’s busy explaining what a Bonsang is to the owners.

“You did a good job, then,” Mrs. Jang coos. “You don’t need to pay today. It’s on us!”

You quickly put your spoon down. “What about me? I barely sleep thesedays, and I’m not as rich as Hyunjin!”

“Aigoo, you started eating before your friend came then demand for free food. You’re lucky we love you as much as we love Hyunjin.”

The couple laugh at your reaction, jokingly scolding you for being whinier than Hyunjin when it used to be the other way around. He smiles, remembering all the times he forced you to eat his eggplants for him and the times when he begged you to help him study because he needed to beat all of his friends.

“Eat,” you scowl. “You only have half an hour to brag. I have a night shift.”

Out of the times you’re being petty towards him, you were only seriously petty once: when he beat your English score in ninth grade although you were the one teaching him. He had to bribe you with a week’s worth of Haribo jellies before you stopped ignoring him.

Hyunjin giggles. “When’s your exam? Tomorrow?”

“Next week,” you whine. “But I have so many things to do! And I think someone stole my notes, I can’t seem to find them anywhere. Do you even understand half the pain I’m going through right now? All I need is one solid hour of sleep.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

You widen your eyes, eyeing Hyunjin from head to toe. “Sometimes I forget you’re Stray Kids’ Hyunjin.”

He pretends to stab himself on the chest. “That h-hurts,” he fake-groans. “Then who do you think I am?”

“My neighbor,” you answer. “—who doesn’t even live at home anymore.”

“To be fair, you’re practically holed in hospital now.”

“Yeah but I go home every two weeks? You go home twice a year.”

“Excuse me?! I went home on your birthday… in the middle of a tour! I could’ve been sleeping or practicing, but I came home!”

He always “argues” with you until both of you are out of breath, clutching your chests because it somehow feels hilarious. You drink the last few drops of the soup right from your bowl, setting it back on the table and empty your glass in one go.

“I don’t have enough energy for this,” you sigh dreamily, prepping your head on your arm. “Tell me about everything. Your first Bonsang.”

Hyunjin can still hear his fans’ voices chanting his name and cheering for him as he delivered his speech while sobbing (this is what he hates from solo promotions, nobody else is there to stop him from crying or taking over the mic from him so he could calm himself down). He remembers every single word he said and the proud faces of his fellow artists. The thrill, the triumph, the satisfaction, the love… it’s making him emotional all over again.

He grabs a tissue to blow his nose. “I was surprised when the company said that I was invited. Our group hasn’t made a comeback this year, and although my song did chart quite well, I never expected they would even invite me.”

“They gave me a 5-minute stage! I was so happy, I sent you my rehearsal videos, right?”

You nod, imitating one of the moves in his dance break.

“Everything was even more amazing on stage, with Stays watching me. I think I was possessed during the performance… I was goddamn nervous though.”

“Yeah, I watched it on the way here. You kept licking your lip, I don’t care if your fans think that’s hot. To me you’re just a nervous mess…”

Hyunjin has started to pout when you add, “… who did a very great job nevertheless! It’s just that I’ve known you so long. You can’t hide anything from me.”

He notices how you’re holding your breath, waiting for him to respond. After years, Hyunjin thought he would take negative comments much less seriously, but apparently it didn’t become easier. It became harder, so hard that he had to take a 3-month hiatus last year.

With you, everything is different. You can tell him that he sucks big time and he’ll take it seriously, but he never gets offended. There are a lot of times when people treat him like he’s made of glass (or a snowflake, Seungmin once said), but you treat him the way you’ve always treated him and he loves it. None of his other friends understands, but your honesty is priceless. It’s what keeps him going; he knows you’ll never cherish him less no matter what you say about the way he dances and raps, or the way he looks and behaves. And he’s sure that his honesty also means the world to you. You are each other’s toughest critic, but it will never change anything.

“Hyunjin.” You place your hand over his, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out of my mouth.”

He chuckles, flipping his palm to squeeze your hand. “You idiot. You just stated the facts.”

You squeeze his hand back before pulling away. “I’m looking at Hwang Hyunjin of Stray Kids who sold over 100.000 copies of his first solo album, who won Bonsang for the first time, who gets worshiped by everyone he locks eyes with—except for me of course. I’m a very proud friend.”

“Stop it.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but unable to hide his smile once he sees you grinning like a happy child. “How much time do we have left?”

You glance at your phone, sighing when a reminder for you to study pops up. “5 minutes. I have to go back to the hospital soon.”

“Can you even study during your shift?”

“I have to,” you mumble. “Anyways, thanks for dragging me out. I did miss you after all.”

“I missed you too,” Hyunjin says, probably too quick for his own good but he doesn’t regret it.

“I’ll be going now.” You stretch your limbs, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Any last words before I go to war?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan is the only one awake by the time Hyunjin gets back home. He huffs in regret, knowing that the hyungs decided to stay over to celebrate his Bonsang win. The leader greets him with a bear hug, carefully avoiding Felix and Minho who are fast asleep on the floor. “We’re so happy for you!” he whisper-yells. “How was Y/N?”

Hyunjin returns his hug with an even tighter one. “Thanks hyung. You composed the song after all! And sorry I came back too late.”

Chan shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. At some point we forgot why we were here and just started playing mafia.”

“Y/N is fine, anyways, just tired.”

“She’s always tired, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. It turns out that medical students are probably more tired than us.”

Hyunjin leads Chan to his bedroom. Each of the 00z has their own bedroom now. It’s much more convenient and they can arrange their stuff however they want to (they avoid entering Jisung’s room as much as possible), but Hyunjin misses the mess at times. The old dorm was cramped, either too hot or too cold, and way too noisy, but it was home for quite a long time.

Chan seems to be having the same thought. “We miss you kiddos sometimes,” he laughs. “But we fixed that sliding door. It closes properly now.”

“As long as Changbin hyung keeps opening it with too much force it will be broken again in no time. Trust me.”

Both of them are lying on Hyunjin’s king size bed, staring at the sideboard table he dedicates for his music show—and now, music award—trophies. “The kids don’t really say it but they’re all so proud of you. I’m proud of you. I raised you well, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

“Kinda?!”

“I’m joking.” Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “You raised all of us. We raised Jeongin. And we raised each other.”

“3racha are almost finished choosing the final songs, you have 2 weeks to relax then we’ll start production right away. Our next tour won’t start until May, so we have plenty of time to prepare everything.”

“Ohhhhh I can feel my bones breaking already. We’re getting old,” Hyunjin whines.

Chan pats his thighs, cracking his knuckles before jumping out of bed. “You’re getting old,” he teases.

“I’m glad, though. Everything finally works out the way we wanted to. I guess we can say that we’re doing well now, right?”

Chan doesn’t wait for Hyunjin to answer and leaves the room right away. The latter ponders the rhetorical question for a while, recalling the goals they have reached for the past few years. Entering the Melon chart (and staying on Top 20 for a week), having one of the most successful world tour, winning prestigious awards at prestigious music awards, 3racha getting acknowledged as the industry’s top composers, 00z winning music shows for their unit debut last year, Jeongin getting drama roles, and last but not least, Hyunjin’s successful solo debut.

Feeling nostalgic, he scrolls through his phone, looking at old photos and silly videos. Looking at the lyrics he wrote on his note app. Then he goes through @realstraykids’ posts on Instagram, from when Jeongin still had braces until tonight. The latest selcas on his own official account are still getting likes, the fans showering him with praises.

Hyunjin has ticked off everything from his wish list. He has reached every goal he set a few years ago. They are doing well. He’s doing well.

He looks at his surroundings, immersing himself in the space and peace of his room that he once craved desperately. He’s supposed to be at peace now, but his mind won’t stop buzzing, asking himself what to do next.

For the very first time, Hyunjin realizes that he’s now floating on Cloud 9. Everything is perfect, he’s living his dream life. But at the back of his head, he can hear the clock ticking, ready to push him over the edge the moment he loses his balance, watching him fall all the way to the pits of hell.

Everything is perfect, but why does his heart feel so empty?

Hyunjin’s brows furrow as he tries to catch some comments the fans are posting. When he was a rookie he couldn’t get used to how fast the comments come in, and it’s something that doesn’t quite change. Probably he got used to it at some point, but they kept gaining fans that the comment section is always extremely active.

“Hyunjin oppa,” he pronounces the words slowly. ”Spo-spoiler please!”

He lifts his head to give the viewers a secretive smile. “Nope.” He wiggles his forefinger. “You have to wait for the teasers!”

“Ohhh the comments! You guys are so excited I can’t keep up!”

More comments flood in, and Hyunjin has to press his phone screen in order to read the one comment he’s been trying to read. “Recommend me a song, please!”

“Uhhh—” He takes some time to think of the songs he’s been listening to, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table while the comments keep coming in, but this time he spots words that stab him right on his gut. With trembling hands, he lifts his phone, clicking the report button as subtle as possible. His vision grows blurry as he reports every single comment that has the word “fuck you”, “die” or “talentless” in it.

The pause has become too long and too awkward, so he stops himself from reporting more and stares at the lens. “Ah, song recommendation!” he exclaims. “I have quite a lot but thesedays I’ve been listening to 00z songs a lot. We had so much fun promoting together.”

Hyunjin feels his other phone vibrating in his pocket, probably his mother checking in. It gives him a boost of energy, and he tells his fans he’ll stay with them for 10 more minutes. “When we’re just talking like this, I’m always reminded that we’ve come so far,” Hyunjin says, a smile on his face. “It feels good to know that all of you are making time for us, for me, after your busy day. And no, I’m not sleepy. Don’t worry, everyone!”

He reads some more comments, mostly cheesy pickup lines to cheer himself up as his brain is still trying to get all the hurtful words out of his system. “Ah, I think I have to go now,” Hyunjin announces lowly. “I have to go back to practice, if not Chan hyung will barge in and drag me back to the practice room.”

“What? You want me to get scolded by Chan hyung? Why are you so mean?!”

Hyunjin ends up staying for 20 more minutes before finally ending the broadcast. Conversation with his fans is something he values a lot; it gives him strength and makes him laugh. It makes him feel loved and he wants his fans to feel the same.

But it’s equally tiring. He has to brace himself for some less-than-nice comments, sometimes they are way too severe for him to handle that the company sues all the commenters. You’ve told him over and over again that those people aren’t his fans.

Everything could’ve been worse. Hyunjin still considers himself very lucky that he has much more fans than haters. Still, he often imagines how it will feel if he has no hater at all, since he does have some friends who seem to only hear pretty words.

Hyunjin stays inside the room for a few more minutes, replying to Seungmin’s messages and assures him that he’ll be back soon. He idly plays one of their songs he hasn’t heard for years, the song that was always included in their setlist before being replaced by some other songs. Hyunjin initially thought he wouldn’t need that song anymore, but tonight, he needs it. Maybe he needs it more now than before.

After making a mental note to ask the other boys to add the song back to the concert’s setlist, Hyunjin leaves, cursing himself for taking too much time to regain his composure.

Should I stop or not? Should I give up or not?

“Hwang Hyunjin, stop coming into my room without my permission! You literally trespassed into someone else’s property!”

Hyunjin groans into his pillow, instantly regretting his decision to pick up your call at midnight. “I didn’t!”

“Don’t lie to me. You took Gureum with you!”

He takes a quick glance at the rabbit plushie he placed on top of his pillow. Last night, he did go home because Kkami (everyone calls him old man now) got a little sick. “I miiiiight have made a quick detour next door when I was about to leave.”

“You’re pathetic. You got soooooo many plushies and toys and cute headbands from fansigns and you stole my Gureum.”

“Stop guilt tripping me! I missed Gureum, okay? Why didn’t you take him to your dorm?”

Hyunjin senses your hesitation as you clear your throat. “Well, sometimes seeing Gureum only makes me miss everyone more, so I just left him at home.”

Now he feels guilty. Your parents are currently staying overseas to take care of your sick little sister. He pictures you coming to an empty home every two weeks, exhausted and not having anyone to welcome you.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Our superstar isn’t busy?”

“I am, but I’m willing to sacrifice my precious time for my best friend.”

You scoff over the phone, but telling him to hurry up before ending the call. Hyunjin packs his clothes and toiletries, along with Gureum—his birthday present for your 11th birthday. You almost never sleep without it, yet the plushie still looks brand new.

Unable to hide his smitten smile, Hyunjin grabs his keys.

The apartment complex where Hyunjin lives has changed a lot over the years. The soccer field he used to play at is now a playground. The little bookstore you loved so much is now a bakery. Now there’s a big shopping mall right across the building. After saving up for a while, Hyunjin asked his parents whether they wanted to move to a bigger place. He kind of hoped that they wouldn’t want it because he wanted to stay close to you (although coming home is a real challenge for him). Luckily, his parents said no.

He enters your door password leisurely, recalling the time when your parents told him to take care of you.

So far, you’ve been the one taking care of him.

Hyunjin heads straight to your bedroom, opening the door and sees you curling on your bed. The mattress he sleeps on whenever he stays over is already laid on the floor.

“Gureum!” you yell when he throws the squishy rabbit to you. Hyunjin drops his bag and settles himself on the mattress, staring up at you.

“How’s your sis?”

You scoot towards the end of the bed, showing him a photo on your phone. Your sister is smiling; she looks much better than before, but still very pale and thin. “I haven’t called her,” Hyunjin admits. “But she got the albums I sent to her. Sent the ones signed by the others too. That kid loves Jisung, do you know that?”

“I got her into Jisung.”

He sits up, looking almost offended. “Your bias is Han Jisung?”

“This world doesn’t revolve around you, superstar.” You flash him a cheeky grin. “I wanted to ask you to let me go to the backstage again last tour, but I restrained myself. As your kind best friend, I shouldn’t abuse my privilege.”

“You know that he never cleans his room, right?”

You hum, “Nobody’s perfect, Jinnie.”

“Oh come on!” Hyunjin protests. “If it’s Jeongin I understand although he also never cleans his room. But Jisung? And you’re calling yourself my best friend!”

“He’s funny!” you argue. ”He has a nice voice—it’s really sexy when he raps, he dances well, he wrote all my favorite Stray Kids songs, and he actually had the balls to fight you. A real champ.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, making a gesture to snatch Gureum away from you. “And at the end of the day, you love him,” you add. “He makes you laugh too.”

Well, it’s a fact he can’t refute. You ask, “Do you think I should hit on him or something? Will people call me out? Does he have someone?”

“We are not having this conversation Y/N. I don’t care if both of you are my best friends, you’re not dating Han Jisung. What happened to that ‘hot senior’ Jung Jaehyun? The last time we called, you were so in love with him.”

The mention of Jaehyun’s name causes you to slump into your bed, covering yourself with your thick blanket. “I sort of blew it up,” you mumble. “He asked me on a real date and I said no.”

You seem to hit realization that’s way too late, and now you’re hollering, “I said no to Jung Jaehyun! Oh my God Hyunjin… I’m such an idiot!”

Hyunjin can’t contain his giggles. Relief washes over him; you and Jaehyun seemed rather serious and while he wished you well, the thought of you being with someone else always pains him. He knows he’s not allowed to feel that way just because you’re best friends.

Most of the times, he can’t help it.

“He’s a real gentleman and he said he was into me. ME. Everyone would throw themselves at him but he came up to me and I flat out rejected him. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

You’re rolling on your bed, whining and kicking at the air. “I tried not to think about it but… it was just a date? Even if I didn’t end up dating him at least I could tell my grandchildren that I went on a date with Jung Jaehyun!”

“Is he really that great?” Hyunjin asks, out of curiosity but laced with jealousy he hopes you can’t see. His words sound distant to his own ears, triggering his fear of losing you.

“Yeah, I guess?”

You nudge his legs when he doesn’t respond. “How about you? Everything’s fine? You don’t look happy thesedays.”

Hyunjin never lies to you. You have a full access to his heart; he lets you in on his happiest days when life feels like the shiniest summer. He also lets you in even after the messiest thunderstorm when he feels that everything is fucked up. This time, he wants to lock you out. There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to fix.

His heart is empty—he is empty, and he wants to protect you from the bleakness of it.

“I’m fine, just been arguing with Felix and Minho hyung over the song we’ll perform. It feels too monotone for me, but they think it’s perfect,” he explains, not completely lying. “I don’t know if I’m being selfish but somehow I just can’t let it go.”

“Have you tried explaining to them? Not how you feel, but how the song is. You can always go technical, you don’t need to worry just because Minho is more experienced.”

Hyunjin sighs. “I did, but probably it’s just me.”

“Do you wanna talk things out?” You yawn, squishing Gureum into your chest. “Or do you want to just sleep?”

He glances at the clock. “We both need sleep. It’s almost 3A.M.”

“Alright. Good night—I mean good morning!”

Hyunjin stretches his neck to look at you, your eyes are already closed. He relaxes his body and tries to sleep, but his jumbled mind keeps him awake. Hyunjin waits until you’re fast asleep before scooting closer, softly taking your hand in his before closing his eyes once again. He did it a lot when he was younger, holding your hand until he fell asleep. You nagged at him because it woke you up, but you never told him to stop doing it.

Tonight is no different.

“Hyunjin?”

“Sorry.”

You turn to him, “It’s okay.”

He mumbles a thank you, ready to go to sleep when you move to the mattress. Hyunjin gulps at the close proximity, it’s been too long since you slept on the same bed as him.

“Hyunjin, I missed you.”

Hyunjin heard a theory somewhere: 3.A.M-conversations are the most honest. It’s a little over 3A.M now, and he doesn’t how much of that theory is true, but your words fuel something deep within him. The feeling so strong he has to tear his gaze away from you. Hyunjin slowly pulls you into his arms, patting your back in rhythm with the clock.

He grazes his lips on your shoulder, mouthing his reply quietly, “I missed you too.”

You nod against his chest, pulling your hand out of his grasp so you could circle your arms around his torso.

Hyunjin falls asleep almost immediately, succumbing to the warmth and comfort you radiate.

He’s going to be alright.

“Do you think I’ll ever debut?”

Hyunjin takes off his SOPA jacket, plopping onto the bed while you’re munching on a pack of jelly. “Let me sleep for 10 minutes. I have to go to the company after this.”

You slap his thigh. “Why do you always sleep in my room? If I got a dollar everytime you sabotage my bed I’d be really rich now. Get out, you have practice!”

He reaches for your knee, using it as a pillow. Hyunjin feels you soften as you card your hand through his hair. “Is it hard? Are those mean hyungs still bothering you?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “Changbin hyung told those motherfuckers to mind their own business.”

“Stop cursing!” you hiss. “It’s not cool, and what if you accidentally curse on broadcast later? You have so much to learn…”

Hyunjin opens his eyes and smiles when he meets your gaze. “Do you think I’ll ever debut?” he repeats his question.

“Have you seen yourself dancing? You’re better than most of the trainees I saw at the open showcase. Plus you have so many girls screaming your name. No offense, but that is definitely a plus point.”

You give his head a little smack when you notice doubt flashing through his orbs. “I believe in you, Hyunjin. Don’t doubt yourself,” you tell him softly. “And if you need someone to give those ‘motherfuckers’ a lesson, just call me. I know some people who can shut them up.”

He lets out an obnoxious gasp. “Are you a gangster now?! Your parents are going to be so disappointed in you. Looks like you have to say goodbye to medical school now…”

You sigh, now it’s your turn to look at Hyunjin with doubt in your eyes. “I’ll get in, right? What if I flunk my results later?”

“This is why I hate smart people,” he bemoans. “You rank first in the whole school, stop saying nonsense.”

Both of you a few more minutes lying in silence. When he waves you goodbye, Hyunjin feels like he can soar.

He’s safe with you, and you’re safe with him.

“Hwang Hyunjin, get off me!”

Hyunjin wakes up to you trying to untangle your legs from his. He catches your flailing legs, removing his before examining your face. “It’s almost noon. Aren’t you running late?” you pester, pointing at the clock.

“Lunch?” he asks.

This is supposed to be awkward. Hyunjin can’t recall what happened a few hours ago before blushing—he’s never been that intimate with you before. You two have had a fair share of platonic cuddle sessions, but last night felt different.

“Not yet,” you mutter. “I just woke up. Oh God my back hurts.”

He wants to know whether you feel the same, but you’ve made your way to the bathroom before he could ask anything. “What do you want to eat?” you yell, almost incoherently due to the toothpaste in your mouth.

“You’re not going to shower?” Hyunjin playfully shrieks.

“It’s my day off!”

“My mom must’ve cooked something. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Although he’s done this at least a hundred times, it’s still hard for Hyunjin to leave home. Seeing his he’s never able to stop his heart getting heavier at the sight of bidding his family goodbye until God knows when.

“Please come home more Y/N,” his mother asks you, raising her eyebrow. “Hyunjin seems to randomly pop up whenever you’re here, so please, come home more.”

You smack his back loudly, causing him to let out a choked groan. “I’ll teach him a lesson, don’t worry.”

Hyunjin gives his mother a sheepish smile, knowing all too well what she meant. He pulls you out before she starts grilling him for information, yelling one last goodbye before closing the door. You search for something inside your bag, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

“You left something?”

“My dorm key,” you answer, walking back to your own unit. “You should just go,” you say. “It’s in the middle of the day anyways, we shouldn’t be seen together.”

Hyunjin follows you inside, watching you rummage through one of the buffet drawers. He notices how your shoulders are slumped and the way your eyebrows furrow. As his mind wanders to last night once again, you jab at his stomach lightly. “Hey, you’re spacing out.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin can say. He takes a good look of you, something he always does before he parts ways with you. Before he can stop himself, Hyunjin has wrapped his arms around you, letting you hear his erratic heartbeat. He still misses you, even after spending the whole night together.

Eventually, you pull away. “I’ll go first.” You ruffle his head. “See you when I see you?”

“See you soon,” he corrects you.

You smile, taking your bag from the floor and when he blinks, you’re gone.

Hyunjin still misses you now, even when you were just in his embrace a few minutes ago, burying your head into the crook of his neck. The empty space in his heart seems to expand whenever he thinks about you.

It hurts.

Minho ends the dance practice and everyone collapses on the floor the moment the music stops playing. Hyunjin immediately restarts the discussion they had before practice started.

“We used to sing both Grow Up and You Can Stay, why do we have to choose one now?” he demands while all of them are sprawled on the floor. “Our fans miss it too, I think it’s the perfect chance to bring it back.”

Chan takes a deep breath, nodding at Hyunjin. “I can’t see why not,” he says with a chuckle. “I don’t even remember why we abandoned it in the first place.”

Hyunjin does, and he knows Chan does too. It was simple, really. The song that once gave them comfort turned into this big monster made out of their worst nightmares. Each member had cried to the song during some of their concerts, and now performing it in front of everyone always brings back the painful memories.

“Yeah, we should sing it again,” Felix adds, kicking Jisung’s leg so the latter would sit up and voice out his opinion. “Well.” Jisung scratches the back of his head, “I’m cool with it.”

The rest of the group mumbles similar answers and Chan claps, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up. “Hyunjinnie is all grown up,” he praises before gathering his things and leaves. Hyunjin snorts at the leader’s compliment, but his sparkly eyes can’t fool anyone.

He pulls out his phone to relay the happy news to you, but the sparks in his eyes quickly fade when his messages from hours ago are still unread.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” he asks.

Seungmin checks his phone. “5A.M.”

Hyunjin wipes his sweat, chugging his water. Their American tour starts in a few days, and while he’s ecstatic because they’ll be performing at LA Staples Center for the first time, he also feels uneasy.

He takes out his phone, opening his contacts and stops when he sees your name. He stares at the number he remembers by heart.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks. “If you’re worried about District 9’s formation change, don’t. You nailed it today.”

“District 9…” Hyunjin trails off. “We’re getting too old for District 9.”

Jeongin grunts in agreement. “Whenever we finish my head always spins for like a minute. It’s been too long.”

“Yah,” Seungmin scolds him. “You need to get it checked. What if there’s something wrong with your head?”

The youngest does an exaggerated head banging, earning a kick from the puppy-like boy. Hyunjin chuckles at the two’s antics; some things never really change, and he’s grateful that this is one of those things.

Seungmin throws a playful punch at Jeongin’s stomach one last time before focusing his gaze back on Hyunjin. “Seriously though, did something happen?”

Hyunjin’s brain has a lot of template answers to questions like this, but the cliché words on tip of his tongue feel burning. His friends wait patiently as he fumbles for words, blinking his tears away when he fails to find the right words.

“I don’t even know if there’s anything,” he finally concludes. “It’s just—ever since Bonsang, it’s been hard. It’s been… nothing. Empty.”

Seungmin and Jeongin only nod, as if they understand how he feels. They probably do, Hyunjin thinks. Maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe all of his members have experienced it at some point, although at different times. Hyunjin feels slightly relieved at the thought. I’m not insane.

When he was a trainee, he thought everything would be fine once he debuted. It was, to some extent. But he was young and naïve, and when things beyond his control happened, Hyunjin barely managed to stay afloat. People told him how to handle stress, how to voice out his concerns, how to manage his body, mind and soul. He knew how to survive, theoretically.

No one actually taught him nor the other boys, and for an 18 year-old boy, feelings got intense quickly. After some trials and errors, everyone figured that it was best not to bottle up their feelings. Once again, it sounded easy in theory. In reality, with so many things happening at once, most of them eventually created a space in their own heads to seal everything in. They endured.

Jeongin looks at him with hesitation, rubbing his hands together. “It happens,” he reassures him. “It’s okay to worry about it, hyung. But worry about it with me, please!” Jeongin raises his tone. “You can barge into my room anytime. You can annoy the hell out of me, but stop suffering alone, will you?!”

Seungmin can’t miss the chance to tease the maknae. “Says the one who cried alone all night long in the bathtub after losing his voice.”

“If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve passed out,” Hyunjin adds. Jeongin lifts his hands in defeat. “Whatever. But I meant what I said.”

“Our Jeongin is so dependable,” Hyunjin coos.

“You say that all the time.” Jeongin rolls his eyes. “And then still baby me.”

Seungmin takes Hyunjin’s phone from the floor, passing it to the owner. “Call Y/N.”

Hyunjin panics a little. “Why?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Better days start after meeting the person you want to see the most!”

“Speaking of you and Y/N,” Jeongin quips. “You guys aren’t in high school anymore, stop flirting with each other and date already.”

Hyunjin gets a surge of bravery and dials your number, but immediately regrets his decision with each passing minute. He almost ends the call when you finally answer. “Hyunjin?”

“H-hi,” he stammers. “Busy?”

“Kind of... What? What happened?”

“Can we meet? I only need a couple of minutes. You’re in Seoul, right?”

“I am. Hyunjin, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

It’s scaring me too.

“I want to tell you in person. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

Hyunjin isn’t sure when the lines between best friends and something more started to get blurry. The worse thing is, he realized it way too late and things got complicated before he could do anything about it.

“It’s too late to back out,” he mouths to himself while opening the stairwell door in the hospital you’re currently at. You’re sitting on one of the steps, dozing off as your head hits the wall every now and then.

Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, guilt consuming him. He sits beside you, pulling your head to his right shoulder. The two of you always attended the same school until high school, when he decided to enroll in SOPA instead of a regular school. Since then, he never really knows what’s going on in your life. You told him about your close friends, the small fights, medical students’ inside jokes, the good looking boys, all the knowledge and experiences you’re grateful for despite the never-ending suffering and constant lack of sleep. You told him everything, but he’s never actually seen you in your world.

You’ve seen enough of his world—you’ve gone to his concerts, awards shows, even fansigns (as a prank because you wanted to see him getting all flustered while pretending not to know you). Hyunjin never has the time or makes an effort to do the same, and while it’s completely understandable due to the nature of his job, he feels like he’s going to lose you.

As he brushes your hair out of your face, Hyunjin asks himself whether he’s good enough for you.

“Whoa,” you suddenly whisper, straightening your body. “Did I fall asleep?”

Hyunjin stops you from getting up. “You must be tired.”

“So are you.” You remove his hand from your head. “So tell me. What’s going on?”

You’re here, sitting beside him, only wanting truth to come out of his mouth. Hyunjin bites his lip, the urge to just let go is eating him up, his soul begging him to get some answers. The familiar hollowness is back, and tears start to roll down his cheeks.

This isn’t the first time he cries in front of you, so you just pat his head, waiting for the tears to stop. “I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You lift his head, eyes looking straight into his. “What for?” you mutter. “Hyunjin, please tell me.”

Hyunjin makes a silent plead at himself to toughen up, but it’s hard when you’re staring at him like this, wide eyes filled with raw concern and sincerity that never fail to touch the deepest part of his heart. “Hmm?” you prompt, still patting his head ever so softly.

“It’s been hard,” Hyunjin sniffles. “It’s hard to look forward to the future. I feel restless all the time. I have nothing to fight for. It’s…,” He makes gestures with his hand in attempt to explain it better. “… empty.”

You wipe his tears with the sleeve of your white coat. “Do you know why you feel that way?”

Hyunjin nods. “We’re doing well, we really are… and that’s probably why. Everything is going too well I don’t know what thrills me anymore. I thought I’d feel content once I reached all of my dreams, but that’s not the case.”

He examines your face, rehearsing the next lines in his head again and again. You cock an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. And the last bit of Hyunjin’s defense crumbles with every blink of your pretty eyes.

“And you… I miss you all the time. Even when you’re right here with me, I still miss you. I have to hold back whenever I’m with you because I don’t want you to run away from me. I love you, Y/N. I don’t know when it all started but maybe I’ve always loved you and it hurts me not being able to tell you that. The emptiness… it gets worse whenever you tell me we shouldn’t be seen together or that you have to go or when you have other boys like Jaehyun who are clearly better for you than I am because they can be there for you. I love you so bad you don’t know how hard it is to go through days without you, without kissing you good night, without hearing you laugh for me. I keep thinking, ‘what if you’re suddenly gone?’ Maybe you’ll leave me someday, maybe you’ll tell me that you can’t be my friend anymore, but I need you, Y/N. I love you and I need you here with me to keep going. I—”

Hyunjin watches you slowly—very slowly—retract your hand from his head as words fail him, and he feels as if his guts are being hammered to pieces. He can’t read your eyes, can’t even try to define what your gaze means.

You eventually stand up, pulling him up with you. “I’m not the answer, Hyunjin,” you mutter. “You can’t expect that you’ll never feel empty again once I say that I accept your feelings. It’s just—it’s not fair. This isn’t just about us not being together.”

“But—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your body start shaking due to all the tension. “I know. That’s how you feel, and I can’t dictate you what to feel and not to feel. Think about it like this…”

You pause to check if he’s still listening to you. He nods, weakly.

“… you spent years working your ass off to get recognition from everyone, and you did it. Don’t ever forget that, I’m begging you. So all of your dreams have come true and you feel lost now… it’s okay. You have a lot of time, Hyunjin. You can always have a new dream, you can have a thousand more. Don’t make me the answer to everything just because you haven’t found any other answer.”

You wait for him to respond, but Hyunjin is frozen to his spot. His world is now upside down, and he doesn’t know how long it will take to fix everything.

Your phone rings, snapping him out of his trance. You look at him apologetically. “I have to go.” Those damn words again. “Ask Seungmin to help you ice your face, you don’t want to show up at the airport with swollen eyes, do you? Call me before you take off, okay? Hyunjin?”

He can only nod, trying his best to give you the most reassuring smile. He feels everything all at once: shock, shame, sadness… but mostly regret because you’re right.

You always are.

“Have fun on tour! Send me all the photos you take!”

Now it’s turn for Hyunjin’s phone to ring as you make your way out, leaving him alone. He’s about to press the green button when the door opens once again. Hyunjin lets his phone ring, watching you fidget with your hands.

He’s still pretty much tongue-tied, but forces himself to ask, “Did you ever… love me? As more than friends?”

To his surprise, you take quick steps towards him, tiptoeing to press your lips on his. Your eyes are closed, your hands are tied to your sides and it takes Hyunjin his whole willpower to refrain himself from pulling your body closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the life out of you. He closes his eyes and just stands there, accepting whatever you’re willing to give him because there’s nothing he yearns more than your love and trust.

Hyunjin almost whines when you pull away with red cheeks and teary eyes. “Come back to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you. Only you.”

It’s Hyunjin’s 10th (or 11th? He can’t really remember) visit to New York, but he’s still as excited as a kid with his lollipop. After years of traveling from country to country, Hyunjin realizes that he just doesn’t get bored, ever. Each place holds a special memory he keeps close to his heart, something sentimental that motivates him to go back every chance he gets.

“Stand there,” he motions at Seungmin—the only one who’s willing to accompany him walking around the Empire State Building for the nth time—to stand at the spot he points at. Seungmin follows his instruction, smiling when Hyunjin starts counting. They examine the result and Seungmin shoves his leg. “I guess you finally learned something.”

Hyunjin feigns hurt, setting his camera’s focus on a group of kids, holding his breath before pressing the shutter. “As if you taught me anything.”

He glances at his bandmate who’s busy taking photos with his own camera. Photo hunting with Seungmin is always in Hyunjin’s “limited free time” itinerary. They’ve strolled around so many cities together, sometimes it takes the whole day if time allows them. Strangely, Seungmin never gets bored of it either and although it’s no surprise since he loves photography more than anything else, Hyunjin is grateful.

“You never say no whenever I ask you to take photos with me,” Hyunjin states. “Why?”

Seungmin frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just wondering,” Hyunjin mumbles. “We do pretty much the same thing everytime. Sometimes I force you to go to the places we’ve been to… don’t you get bored?”

“It’s always different everytime, I thought that’s why sometimes you take photos at the same place? It’s never exactly the same, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin goes through the photos he took in New York last year, smiling at some of them as he recalls the funny anecdotes behind them. When he slips his phone back into his jeans pocket and lets his eyes wander… yes, nothing is exactly the same.

“You truly are a photographer. When’s your next exhibition, Photographer Kim?”

Seungmin snaps his finger. “Ah! Exhibition! I forgot to ask you, why don’t we held a joint exhibition this time?”

“You want to show your photos along with my photos?”

“Why not? Yours are amazing too! And you’re my best friend, it’ll be fun.”

Hyunjin imagines having his photo framed on the wall. Small placards pinned underneath, containing the words he constructs to explain each of them. The fans will come to feel how it feels like to be here behind the lens. Maybe people who don’t even know him will come too, and get a chance to actually know him.

He reaches his phone to relay the idea to you, smiling to himself when he finds messages from you instead.

y/n: [sends a picture]

y/n: ahreum finally woke up today! isnt she pretty?

me: everyone is prettier than you

me: you must be happy!!

y/n: ??????

y/n: oh. she asked me to recommend boygroup songs

y/n: i made her listen to every single skz song

y/n: and your solo songs!!!!

me: awwwwwww

me: and you cant be doing this for free right?

“Is that your best friend slash girlfriend?” Seungmin is suddenly standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. “You guys are so cute it’s making me feel sick.”

Hyunjin sighs, gazing at the busy street upon him. “We’re not dating. At least not yet.”

“What happened? Just realized that I never really asked.”

“She asked me to come to her when I’m ready.”

Seungmin looks at him quizzically, but decides not to press him further. “Are you ready now?”

They’re flying back to Seoul next week, and while he thought he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the tour, he truly did. He thinks of all the good things that have happened: the sold out shows, the happy tears, his improvement, the upcoming exhibition with Seungmin, and lastly, you—the one who’s patiently waiting for him.

There have been a lot of times when Hyunjin feels like he’s everywhere but nowhere at the same time. It sounds scary, but now he realizes that he only needs to admit that he’s indeed everywhere, but never nowhere.

“Almost.”

The instrumental of Grow Up starts to play and all the boys rush back to their designated positions. The atmosphere turns a bit more sentimental as the bridge approaches, they’re just looking at each other while Minho is singing his part. In the past, they often teased each other during this very part, afraid that they would break down if they let their emotions overtake them. Hyunjin averts his gaze to the audience, watching the beautiful color of their lightsticks light up the huge stadium. As he gestures at some of the fans to stop crying, Hyunjin thanks himself for convincing the others to add the song back to their setlist.

The song comes to an end, and Chan gathers everyone to make a circle. Hyunjin feels pats on his head and back, Chan’s voice drowned by the fans who are still singing. He can’t resist the urge to turn around, so he does just that, and what he won’t trade what he sees for anything.

Their fans are standing there, eyes focused on everyone on stage as they sing each syllable perfectly. Changbin follows his gaze, and soon all of them are facing the audience again, listening to every wish, every hope, and every message relayed through the lyrics of the song.

Hyunjin lifts his mic, eyes darting to Chan who gives him a nod of approval. “Thank you,” he begins. “This is our last stop for this tour, and I can’t be any prouder and thankful to all of you.”

He lets the translator translate his speech before continuing, “I had a lot of worries before the tour started. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to go through everything.”

“You made our dreams come true,” Hyunjin continues. “You made my dreams come true and I naively thought that was the end of everything. But I learned a lot during this tour, and once again, you made this happen. All the pretty words you told us, they mean a lot. They always will. I realized that this will always be my dream, no matter how many times this has come true. I want to make you, who stay with us throughout everything, happy. I want to be here for a very long time. I want to be with you, to be with the members and our family, for a very long time.”

He stops when he feels he can’t continue anymore, letting the others take the spotlight. He gives each of his bandmates with a loving gaze, stopping at Minho who lets tears roll down his cheeks this time. Jeongin is giggling beside him, walking over to wrap the tsundere hyung in a firm hug.

Hyunjin thinks they’ve really come a long way.

Being back home usually gives Hyunjin a peace of mind, but when he sees no notification on his phone, he feels weird. He dials his mother’s number, his heart grows even more anxious when she picks up.

“Oh Hyunjin-ah, did you just land?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you come over here? Or do you have an important schedule?”

“No, we get 2 days off. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s sister passed away. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, we didn’t want you to panic.”

“Eomma! How could you?”

“I’m sorry. This is Y/N’s request as well. She’s been here for 2 days and no one can make her eat anything. Can you take her home?”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re going to live in Germany! You’re such a lucky kid!”

The little girl smiles bashfully as you pout at her. “The luckiest girl on Earth,” you add, fixing her messy hair.

“If you’re so jealous of me, why don’t you come along?”

“Are you kidding?” you exclaim. “I’m on my way to be the greatest doctor in this country. You can’t change my mind.”

“Alright, it’s time to go,” your father interrupts, giving you one last hug before whispering things into your ear. Hyunjin steps back to allow you say goodbye to your family, tearing up at the painful sight. Your father, a doctor, accepts an offer to work in a hospital in Germany and takes the whole family with him since your sick little sister needs more intensive treatment.

But you’re staying to become a great doctor like your father, hoping you’ll get a chance to cure your sister later.

“Please take care of her, Hyunjin. We trust you,” your mother tells him. Hyunjin nods, enveloping your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here monitoring her every move and drag her back home whenever she spends too much time at the academy.”

Your sister laughs, bowing to Hyunjin. “I also want a boyfriend like Hyunjinoppa! Please take care of our unnie.”

You yank your hand away from him. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Hyunjin seems unbothered by your statement, bowing to your family to annoy you more. “Our family will take care of her, you can trust us.”

Your sister’s smiling face greets Hyunjin as he enters the funeral home. He stares at the photo then closes his eyes to pray, whispering strings of apologies that’s always too late. I’m sorry I never visited you. I’m sorry I failed to take care of your sister. I’m sorry I didn’t call you enough.

He bows to your family, the first bow since years ago, and he wishes he could turn back time. Hyunjin turns to you, gazing into your tired eyes. Your mother pulls him towards you. “She hasn’t eaten at all. Can you please bring her home, Hyunjin? I hope you’re not too busy. I’m sorry that we meet like this.”

“Hyunjin just landed in Seoul. How could you force him to come here?” you snap, returning his gaze. “Go home. I’ll call you later.”

Hyunjin almost yells in frustration, but swallows everything before dragging you out, only tightening his grip on your wrist when you try to pry his hand off of you. You keep shouting at him, yelling at him to stop, but Hyunjin doesn’t budge. He drags you all the way to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in the car, Y/N.”

Without waiting for you to move, he lifts your body and sits you down, fastening your seatbelt. “Please don’t push me away,” he pleads. “Why do you always tell me go home, go back to practice, to leave… why?! I promised your parents to take care of you. I promised your sister, why aren’t you letting me do that?!”

“I never asked you to do that,” you mutter through gritted teeth, causing Hyunjin to grip your shoulders.

“You only said that to hurt me,” he replies. “Even now you’re still trying to push me away. I want to be here Y/N. Don’t you want me here?”

You avoid his eyes, keeping your gaze on your clasped hands. “Tell me,” Hyunjin challenges. “Tell me that you don’t want me to stay with you, and I’ll leave.”

He waits for you to respond, letting out a relieved sigh he doesn’t bother hiding when you shake your head. “Want you here. Thank you.”

“Have you cried?”

After your sister was born, you were told not to shed tears in front of her. Your parents always scolded you if you started crying when you saw her in pain, and after some time, it became a habit. A habit that Hyunjin absolutely despises since it makes you suppress your feelings, as if punishing you for having feelings.

“I don’t know… maybe I haven’t.”

“You lost your sister, you can cry. Your parents cried a lot too, it’s fine.”

You nod, resting your head in the crook of his neck when tears start to well up. Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple, finding himself tearing up the moment you start sobbing, something he has never witnessed although he’s known you for almost his whole life.

“Is this your Armani suit?” you manage to voice in the middle of sobs and snorts. He takes you into his embrace, chuckling, “Yes, but you can ruin it however you want. Another privilege as my best friend.”

“Can I abuse this privilege?”

“Ruining my expensive suits?”

“No,” you laugh airily. “Crying when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin cups your wet cheeks, gently pushing your hands away when you want to wipe your tears away. “Anytime. You can cry, laugh, curse, get angry, get drunk… you can do anything when you’re with me.”

And that’s all it takes before you start sobbing into his suit again. Hyunjin is standing there for the longest time, sandwiched by the passenger seat and door of his car with you in his arms. He doesn’t care, he will do it all over again, and he will do much more. For you, and only you.

“Where are you? It’s past midnight already!”

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’re lucky I’m willing to go home when I have a morning shift tomorrow,” you scold him over the phone.

“It’s my birthday! Wait, it isn’t even my birthday anymore!” he whines in an obnoxious tone that never fails to upset you. He giggles when he hears you huff, the sound of the elevator signaling that you’ve already arrived.

“You asked me to buy you a cake right before I left,” you hiss. “Now open the door, I’m outside.”

The call ends and Hyunjin rushes to the door. You’re carrying the red velvet cake he requested, the candles already lit and Hyunjin tries not to melt at the way you look at him. He did ask you to buy him a cake and “surprise” him at your apartment, but he is nowhere near ready to see you like this: all smiley and cheery for him despite sounding annoyed over the phone.

“Happy birthday,” you sing song, your smile growing wider as he blows the candle. Hyunjin returns your smile before taking the cake from you, pulling you towards your room. “Go get changed, I’ll slice the cake for you.”

A few minutes later, both of you are seated on your couch, talking about every little thing while enjoying the cake. Hyunjin tells you about Stray Kids’ upcoming comeback, a very special one since Minho choreographed the title track. You tell him about various cases that happened in the hospital while wondering if you’ll ever finish medical school and actually be a doctor.

Everything feels the way Hyunjin expects it to be, until you put your empty plate on the table and look at him straight in the eyes. “Hyunjin…”

He quickly swallows and places his plate on the table as well, never breaking eye contact with you. “What?”

You gulp. “Do you remember when I asked you to come find me when you’re ready?”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“Well,” you murmur. “I’m just wondering if you’re… ready.”

Fire lights up in his stomach, and before you can continue, Hyunjin is already trapping you between his body and the couch. “I am,” he says. “Are you?”

You brush his fringe with your fingers. “You were waiting for me?”

“You told me to start dreaming again, so I did,” Hyunjin recalls. “And I realized that all of my dreams are right in front of me—you, my family, the hyungs, Jeongin, the fans… keeping you guys with me is something I’ll always dream of although all of you are already here.”

You pout at him, but Hyunjin doesn’t miss the proud gleam in your eyes. “Then what’s taking you so long?”

He pinches your nose. “I waited for you to be ready, as you said before, it wasn’t just about us being together. I don’t want you to choose me only because you feel like you need me. I want you to… want me… to love me with a clear head. Just like what you wanted me to do. I want to give you the world, but only if you allow me to.”

You circle your arms around his neck, sighing happily, “You gave me the world, Hyunjin. You listen to me, you console me, you give me a shoulder to cry on. You’re the only one I’ve ever waited for, and I’m so glad that you came back to me.”

Hyunjin is sure that his whole system has stopped working, the words you just uttered feel like the strongest, yet the sweetest liquor he’s ever tasted. He is drunk on the love you offer; he’s drunk on your touch, your smile and everything you want to give him. You’re driving him nuts, completely nuts, but it’s the only thing he wants to feel. You are the only one he yearns to feel.

You seem to sense his burning gaze and start nibbling on your bottom lip. “So this is the part where you kiss me…”

“This is the part where I kiss you…”

You shake your head. “This feels weird. You’re my best friend.”

“You kissed me,” Hyunjin reminds you. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before.”

“No, but—” You pause to let yourself breathe. “I kissed you. This is different, I’m not going to survive you kissing me.”

“For the love of God Y/N, just—”

You point at your lips. “And I still have my lipgloss on!”

Hyunjin is caressing your reddening cheek now, trying to destroy the last bit of your defense. “And what’s wrong with that?” he asks softly.

“It’s sticky! Our lips will get stuck and it won’t be romantic.”

“So what do you want to do? Go into your room and wipe it off with a cotton pad or something?”

“Yeah, let’s do—”

Hyunjin doesn’t let you finish as he finally dives in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that set both of you on fire. He hums when he feels your body relax in his hold, allowing him to savor you with so much longing and want. Hyunjin lets his heart take the lead, kissing you harder whenever you tug the ends of his hair and making him putty under your touch. It never feels enough, it feels like he only gets hungrier everytime you return his kiss, the feeling of your lips moving against his almost destroys him.

Nothing is stopping him now, he came back to you and you welcomed him with open arms. Hyunjin leaves one more open mouthed kiss on your lips before pulling away with a loud pop, taking in the sight of you trying to breathe. You slowly meet his eyes with flushed cheeks, eyes mirroring his own and Hyunjin tries to remember every single detail. “God I love you so much,” he hears himself whisper.

You smile, lifting your hand to trace his face delicately. “I love you.”

“Are you mine now?” Hyunjin knows this is childish, but he wants to hear it. He longs to hear it.

Thankfully, you’re willing to play his game tonight. “Only yours.”

“No more mourning over Jung Jaehyun?”

“Jesus Christ, do you need to stoop that low.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin pecks your nose. “He doesn’t listen to K-pop, right? Introduce him to me.”

You roll your eyes. “I love you, why the hell are we talking about Jaehyun now?”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“Since we’re on a competition to ruin the mood, lemme burst your bubble: my parents are moving back in next week so we need another place to do... this.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin answers. “What are we gonna do now?”

You wrap your legs around his torso, making him gasp. “I don’t know, kiss me again? I’m gonna tell you this just once, but I, along with thousands of other people, have always wanted to kiss you. It made me feel pathetic, but it is what it is.”

Hyunjin blushes, but refuses to lose to you. “You tried to make me not kiss you a few minutes ago and now you’re desperate to kiss me. Was I that good?”

“Hmmm I guess so,” you hum.

He swiftly lifts your body, grinning when you tighten your hold around his neck. “Well, I’m yours to kiss now,” he teases, trying to walk into room without knocking into things. You leave soft kisses all over his face, prompting Hyunjin to walk faster so he could just kiss you already.

When your back hit your bed, Hyunjin stops to admire your face. “I kissed you a long time ago, don’t you remember?”

Your eyes widen. “You? Kissed me? With those plush lips? When?!”

“You don’t remember? But it was our first kiss!”

You spend the next few minutes racking your brain before nodding. “Ah, it did happen a long time ago.”

“It’s okay, maybe you wanted to forget that moment. It was your darkest time, and I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Shaking your head, you run your thumb along his lip. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.”

Hyunjin closes the gap between you once again, hoping to chase away all the sorrow inside your soul. You pull him closer, making him practically lying on top of you, feeling your chest rise with each touch of his lips on your skin. “Thank you,” a kiss on each of your eye, “for,” a kiss on the tip of your nose, “making me,” a kiss on your lips—this time he lets it linger, “dream,” a kiss on your chin, “again,” and a kiss on your neck.

It took Hyunjin so long to understand the world, and now he still hasn’t understood even half of it. But in the middle of his journey, he met you. He learned to dream, he learned to love you.

And he learned to love himself.

The door opens with a bang, revealing an incredibly panicked Hyunjin. He just finished training when he received a call from you, who said nothing but, “I won’t let you walk home alone.” You wouldn’t end the call throughout his way home, but refused to say anything else and almost making Hyunjin dash to the police station.

Hyunjin sees your shadow, letting out a small scream when he spots you lying on the floor in the dark. He runs to you, about to carry you back into your room when you stop him. “I feel like crying,” you rasp, choking on your saliva. “I can’t stop it.”

It’s been a month since your family left, and while you’re trying your best to be a big girl and live the way you always do, it’s not easy. Hyunjin lies beside you, eyes locked on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You never cry loudly. You never sob nor wail. You just cry silently, mostly in the dark so you can’t see yourself crying.

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, hovering over you before tracing your tears with his lips as if it can stop them. He pecks every wet spot, slowly getting to your lips. He leaves a chaste, barely-there kiss before wrapping his arms around you, whispering comforting things until you start falling asleep on the hard floor.

Hyunjin hopes you’ll allow yourself to cry however you wish to someday.

a/n: i was so happy writing this that i almost cried when i finished because i know i’m going to miss writing this one. this story feels so sentimental, happy and sad at the same time and probably that’s why i feel so attached to it. ive wanted to write this since last year, even before “give my heart a chance”. i always wondered what would happen after we reach our dreams and i hope you’ll feel a little better after reading this (especially if you’re experiencing the same thing). this story is a long journey, but i hope you’ll enjoy it.

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lilmissbeanie · 4 years ago

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Keiji Akaashi x Famous!F!Reader

Song ~ Ass Back Home - Gym Class Heroes

Genre ~ SFW Fluff

Word Count ~ 1.8k

Posted ~ 11/08/20

Akaashi sighed as he once again read another article about Y/n L/n and Jason Derulo, or some other artist always presuming that they were together. He didn't want to be jealous, but he couldn't help it when he saw his girl with some other guys, wasn't that normal?

He knew it was going to be hard when he asked her to be his girlfriend. He knew she would be away often she would be travelling for tours and of course, meeting up with other artists to collaborate on songs, even though he knew that her new song would be a collaboration with Jason Derulo.

He trusted her, the same way that Bokuto would trust his sets back in high school, the way that Bokuto would always know that Akaashi would always get the ball to him to spike. He knew she would never cheat on him, that wasn't who she was. He knew by the excitement in her voice when he answered the phone, "Kei!" The excitable giggles paired with the massive happy grin he saw on video call on the rare occasions that she could. Usually, it was voice messages or texts with the time difference, but some times she would stay up late so they could video chat, he would let the small smile grace his features when she would rub her eyes cutely and yawn. The way he would tell her to go to bed cause she is tired and she would pout innocently saying that she wasn't worn out. She would ask about his day listening as she slowly doses off, he didn't take it as an insult he just knew she was exhausted. He would sit there smiling at her sleeping face, looking like an innocent child, where she still had her phone in a light grip facing her.

"Good night, my Juliette sleep well. I love you."

"I... l-love you too my Romeo" would often be mumbled back, in her half-dazed state. With Akaashi's love of literature, Y/n just slipped it out once called him her Romeo and ever since it stuck.

Running his finger around the rim of his glass he sighed, it had been a few days since he had heard from her, he knew she was busy he had seen on her Twitter and Instagram that they added more tour dates in America as they stadiums had sold out. It had been eight months since the pair were actually in person together.

"AKAASHI!" He flinched at Bokuto's sudden loudness as said boy appeared next to him. "Why so, mopey? Oh, you're missing Y/n aren't you!"

"Hey my Romeo, I'm sorry I haven't called or texted you in a while, the tour has gotten so hectic recently we are doing two shows a day, so most of my fans can come, and watch and my manager wants to add even more dates." He smiled, enjoying the sound of her voice even if it is over voicemail, and she sounded exhausted. He had woken up for work and seen that he had missed a call from her at three am. "I know you're going to ask when I am going to be home, but I don't know at the moment, but soon I hope I'm going to tell my manager that I need a break. I hope to be home for Christmas."

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and gave a slight nod to Bokuto's question.

Bokuto suddenly felt terrible for Akaashi. He didn't know how he felt. He didn't have a love like Akaashi. His passion is for Volleyball is his true love right now. He remembered the day he introduced Akaashi and Y/n. She was at an after-party of a game that the Black Jackals won and Bokuto dragged Akaashi along. It was like the couple connected instantly and they soon got together. Bokuto would often turn up at Akaashi's find them sprawled out on the sofa, Y/n with her head in his lap, his fingers running through he hair as he read a book to her. Bokuto had gotten many pictures of them like this. He loved how relaxed Akaashi was around her, a way he hadn't seen with anyone else.

He knew that she was going to say that.

"Anyway I miss you my Romeo, I cannot wait to be home and in your arms again. I want to be in our little bubble of love and cuddles, of you reading to me while you play with my hair. I want to be in the studio with you listening to me sing my new songs and telling me which words would work better with the lyrics I have written." He laughed he did often sit in the studio with her after he finishes work, reading over her new lyrics and crossing out the odd word and putting one that worked better with the theme of the song. He loved watching her pick at the strings of her acoustic guitar playing a few cords and seeing if they worked when she ran her fingers over the keys of the piano. He loved that she could play different instruments.

"I love you so much, Romeo. I hope you sleep well. See you as soon as I can. Bye-bye, my sweet Romeo."

About three weeks later he was sat at his desk eating his lunch, watch the recent interview Y/n had with OK! Magazine.

'So Y/n, when the tour is over what is the first thing you're going to do?' Chloe, the interviewer, asked

'I think it will be sleep we've had some busy months recently, most days doing two shows to it is hard work.' He laughed along with his beloved.

'We've been keeping up to date on your social media, who is this Romeo you keep mentioning, we often see and I quote, I miss you my sweet Romeo, or I love you, Romeo.' He would always reply, but his account was private so no one unless they followed him and accepted it.

'My Romeo is waiting for me at home; I promised him I wouldn't mention him until he is ready for the spotlight as he isn't an actor or musician. But he is my Romeo, and I am very excited to get home and be with him again.' He was so glad that she didn't spill the beans about their relationship. He already had enough of the spotlight with being friends with most of the Black Jackals team, he already has his pictures in magazines when the team goes out, and he gets dragged along with Kuroo by Bukoto and Hinata.

'Can you tell us one thing about him?' Chloe pushed for more details about him. He loved how Y/n's nose would scrunch up, and her left eyebrow would shoot up as he tapped her chin in thought.

'He was a volleyball setter in high school.' She smiled. Akaashi smirked at the fact she gave, there were many setters across the world, and narrowing down to him would be hard. 'And he is my bookworm,'

'A setter and bookworm, those don't often go together!' Chloe laughed, with Y/n soon joining her.

'I know, and I have Shoyo Hinata and Kotaro Bokuto. But honestly, if it wasn't for him I'm sure some of my songs wouldn't make sense, a lot of my lyrics in my book have his scribbles in changing the odd word here and there, I would often wake up finding him hovering over my lyrics book a mug of coffee in hand proofreading them for me.'

He couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips at the dig at Bokuto and Hinata's dislike for books.

'He sound's like a gem! But back to the fact you've met the Black Jackals numbers twenty-one and thirteen. What are they like?"

"I've met them all I know all the Black Jackals, all their school friends too, I met them all after a match against the Cheehle Ekaterinburg, an old friend Morisuke Yaku I knew from my middle school days invited me along, and that was where I met them. Those two boys even though they were bouncing around the court like anything they still had so much energy, I was shocked that anyone could keep up with them, it was like they were children who had just walked out of an all you can eat sweetshop.'

This caused Chloe to giggle. He liked the way Y/n slyly slipped in how they met.

'this Romeo of yours you didn't happen to meet him through your old middle school friend, did you? At this party' Akaashi's eyes widen as the interviewer hit the nail on the head, he was impressed at how Y/n kept her facial expression in check, just the usual smile she used for interviews,

Saturday 5th of December 2015 was the day that Y/n finally returned home. She didn't tell Akaashi she was on her, she knew from Bokuto that they would be at his favourite restaurant that serves his favourite food, Nanohana no Karashiae, in a private room at the back. She drove her car into the car park of the restaurant, taking a deep breath she pulled on her cap and her dark sunglasses as she got out and walked into the restaurant, telling the waiter that she was here for the Bokuto party he nodded and showed her to the door.

'Ah, well it was through mutual friends that we met.' He loved how she deflected the question, not letting them on that it was at the party they met.

He leaned his phone against the pen pot on his desk, leaving the video to play, while he got on with his work, the questions had now turned to make-up and what shampoo she was using.

"Thanks, I'll be fine from here." She knew from the photo that Bokuto had put up on Twitter that Akaashi had his back to the door, purposely done for this exact reason. Pulling off the hat and glasses, she quietly opened the door slipping in and once again quietly shutting it. The room slowly went quiet as eyes suddenly locked on to her figure. Akaashi frowned at his friends, why did everyone stop talking all of a sudden and why Bokuto and Kuroo had whipped out their phones, pointing it at him, till he started to follow their line of sight.

"Happy birthday Romeo." She giggled as he slowly placed her back on the floor, their foreheads resting against one another.

"I'm home, my Romeo." His eyes instantly locked with hers the second he heard her voice, as the smiles so wide crossed their faces as he flew out of his seat wrapping her up in his arms, tightly as if he loosen his grip she would disappear again, he spun her around. He was ecstatic she was home.

Nine months, eleven days, sixteen hours and thirty-eight minutes since the last time he held her in his arms. Since he lasted kissed her. Since he last looked into her beautiful deep e/c eyes.

"You are the best birthday present I could ever ask for." He said as he entwined his fingers into her hair, pulling her into a deep kiss that was long overdue.

©️ All content belongs to lilmissbeanie, do not copy, edit, repost or translate.

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ahiddenpath · 4 years ago

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Life Talk

1.) I won Nanowrimo

2.) My house is sold

3.) I’m tryyyyyyying to taking it easy

More below the cut.

So, I won Nanowrimo. It’s roughly 30K Four Years and 20K Tri: Integrity Lens. I feel very... blank about it, though. In the last few years, I’ve been trying to celebrate when I win Nanowrimo, but... I don’t have any emotions about it this year, probably even less than usual.

I should probably back up and say that, when I was growing up, I was the type that got all As, won every contest, was the lead in plays and singing events, got the good behavior awards, won state-wide science and poetry contests, was on the select sports teams. I’m not saying this to brag- I was hyper-involved in school and extracurriculars because it kept me away from home.

It got to the point at home where, if I won an award, the reaction was, “good.” If I didn’t, it was, “Why didn’t you win that award? We don’t have money for tutoring, so you had better figure it out *vague threat* ” Stuff like that.

Basically, it’s hard for me to feel proud of anything. If I succeed, that’s “baseline.” Good, I won’t be scolded. If I don’t, that’s anxiety- “I will be scolded, I will be punished.”

I can’t change that concept as an adult- it was cemented into me during my formative years. But I can see it, and I can tell myself- it’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up over not feeling a certain way.

The big thing on my mind now, still, is that we sold our first home successfully a few days ago. It’s the most enormous load off my mind. This whole time, I’ve been wondering- I keep pinning everything on when the house is sold. Will it actually be a relief? Will it actually free up emotional and mental real estate?

SPOILER ALERT: IT DID, I FEEL GREAT!

I told my therapist that I couldn’t feel “at home” and “settled” until I sold the old house, and she challenged me to not wait for some kind of... Permission? Catalyst? Like, don’t put things off citing “my old home isn’t sold” as a reason, because suddenly, a year will have passed and you still haven’t painted your room or put up photos or turned the house into your home.

I absolutely see her point, but I also see mine. Frankly, now that I’m not paying for two mortgages, I can afford to do some of that stuff (buy paint and supplies, buy a rug, buy a lamp, etc). It is true that I could have hung my photos at any time, so that was just a mental/stress block, but I do think that pointing to the money that was tied up in paying the mortgages for both homes, and for repairing things at the old home at the buyer’s demand, was... you know, a valid reason not to be throwing money at our current home.

Right now, my anxiety is free to be directed at the fact that the CDC is forecasting such drastic pandemic leaps. It’s expected to hit in about 10-ish days after today, 11/29, a Sunday that will likely be the largest single day for travel as people head back home in droves to make it to work on Monday after going away for Thanksgiving. It’s expected that we’ll be seeing 4,000 covid deaths per day in the states around week 2/3 of December.

I really don��t want to go to work physically, because I know coworkers who travelled. I wish we could all stay home for two weeks, when the symptoms will show for carriers who are not asymptomatic. I will definitely be limiting my time in the office to after 3 PM, when a lot of coworkers have gone home. It’s still a risk that I’m not sure is worthwhile.

Ah! I should probably say that my therapist is talking about ending therapy. I started in... I wanna say March or April of 2019? Is that right? So I guess it’s been... Like, 19-ish months? I’ve learned so much, but I would say... The biggest difference is that I can see my behavior patterns for what they are, and then decide what to do with them. I haven’t “changed” at my core. I can’t, not in the way people mean when they say “you’ve changed.” The same learned behaviors, belief systems, and emotions from my childhood are there. I just recognize them when they pop up and can make informed decisions about how to approach them.

Which, it turns out, makes a huge difference, even if it isn’t really “change.” I’m always in danger of being too distraught to see what’s in front of my face, though (thanks, anxiety!).

What else... My husband and I did cheese fondue and hot pot for Thanksgiving! It was easily the best holiday I’ve ever had. Holidays are always... so high pressure, always such events that turn a day off into a giant list of chores that might span weeks to complete beforehand. Plus, I’m always hoping I’m not about to be dragged into some kind of “trap” conversation by both my family and my husband’s, who have very different political views compared to me.

But on Thanksgiving, my husband and I ate amazing food, spent a lot of time together, and I felt so loved and cared for and valued, because my husband came up with the idea and made it happen, all so we’d have a nice holiday together. Honestly, I don’t deserve him. I don’t get it. He’s so amazing? I love him so much.

As for my writing, I’ve been feeling... Bad about it, frankly. I think it’s partially because it honestly looks like no one is reading Tri: Integrity Lens. I don’t get it? It was my most requested story in 2018/2019, and I know people wanted a sequel to Growing Up with You, so why is TIL doing so poorly? At first, I thought people were going back to read GUWY again first, since I saw a huge surge in hits for it. Now, I’m not sure? Like, if I open my stats, some random GUWY chapters will have over 10 times the hits as the newest TIL chapter??? ???? ???? ???? ?????

I’m wondering if it has to do with Tri itself... I think that, the more time passed, the more people who liked Tri are maybe defensive about how... negative the fandom reaction was, overall. Meanwhile, people who dislike it, I think, have maybe simply... chucked it out the window, and don’t think about it much. Whereas, when it was still coming out and directly after it wrapped up, I think people who disliked Tri were more interested in imagining ways they might have personally tweaked it.

That makes things awkward for someone like me, who thinks Tri has amazing moments basically... tacked onto a crumbling base.

Actually, let me give you my weird metaphor for Tri!

When I am deciding if I’m going to write a new fic, often what happens is... A few powerful ideas coalesce, a few themes and characterizations. Some people say they are lead by a few powerful scenes. I think of these ideas/themes/character ideas (or scenes for other people) as sparkling ornaments on a Christmas tree.

The problem is that... Ornaments in a box don’t... do much. You need to display them on a tree, right? The ornaments need to be connected and supported by a plot (unless you decide to write a focused oneshot, which is my recommendation in most cases).

In short: Tri has amazing ornaments, but the tree is... not... doing that well. The ideas are there, there are plenty of awesome moments, but something about the actual story/execution just... Didn’t do it for me. But dang, those are some nice ornaments!

That was quick and dirty, but hopefully it conveyed the general idea.

ANYWAY, I’ve been trying to decide if I’m going to continue TIL. I think right now, I would definitely finish Ketsui, since I have so much material written already. Why waste it, right? But I’m not sure what the future of the story will be- not plot wise, but rather, “is my time better spent elsewhere”-wise.

I’m not sure if I need to focus on a new story, if I should take a break, or what. I need to write for my mental health, but it doesn’t have to be a fanfic. It can be anything, as long as I explore whatever is eating at me.

And that is where I am! I hope you’re all staying safe <3

#hidden's life

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bigmafluff · 3 years ago

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Unreal Love Story “Henry Cavill” chapters 1-3

Sequel To My Story “Tom Hiddleston”

Summery

“ Tom Dear ! She is gone!” His mother says when her son barges thru her front door. Diana Hands a sobbing Charlie to His Stunned father Leading them into the house to a computer sitting @ her kitchen table with a flash drive in it. Just as Tom is about to say something . His Mom hush's them both and starts the video. I start with calming Charlie through the computer. “ Hello Little one . I'm am sorry I have to leave you so. But You are a strong young man . Sometimes even stronger than your father at times. Just know that I love you dear one and will always be your special friend . Now dry those tears and Go see Nanna . So Your dad and I can talk.” I said to Charlie thru the computer. Tom Knew after that our relationship was over maybe had been over for a while.

Chapter 1

Numbness,& NASCAR

I couldn't Stay in London. It hurt too much all I saw was pain. I couldn't go home yet still felt like I failed myself some how so home wouldn't work. So I numbed myself out in Cali. I did what I swore I wouldn't. I went full Party Girl. Between the parties ,clubs, Bars I was wasted most of the time. But I knew that being In Love Like this before then Losing love has it's down side . Tom and I had been it for 3 years. But towards the end I was more His son's nanny than his girlfriend . Most of his friends warned me this was one sided . He never got over Sophia Di Marino ,Charlie's Mom. The split was Mutual. I'm Not mad to be truthful. Annoyed really that I let it go on this long ..

So California I went , to numb the hurt. I don't give a rat's ass what they say about better to have Loved crap ! It still hurt's dammit! So Party Shannon I became. I still wrote my stories without impairment. By day I was the mildly hungover writer coffee in hand . Luca was still Daydreaming so I was still writing. But @ night Let's just say in the great words of Bill & Ted .” Party on Dudes” So I did. Shaking my ass Beer in hand in a club in south beach ! Rockin' out to Pink. I am vaguely aware I am Jamming with a rather large Englishmen Go Figure ! He has a familiar tone I can't place ,frankly all I see is curls ,beard & muscle , Cause I'm too drunk and don't care but he was hot and can grind Like no other. But even though I was no lady ,he was a gentleman And at the end of the night I was in my Hotel room clothes and dignity intact.

Woke the next morning with another hangover that I never use to get when I was younger. They still Suck! UGH! I'm about to start typing when I get a feed from TMZ. “TWH PROPOSES TO SDM!” I switch on my TV and sure enough The rock on her finger is massive and Charlie Looks so Happy . The numbness lifts along with the pain . I can see the sun again so I finally pack my stuff .

But not for England . I head home. I decide I need time with my son . So Arkansas, Hot Springs that is. Although when I get there I find out my son is in Florida . In Daytona Beach. At the Racetrack! My nephew Christian and his wife Kiki took Lucas to a NASCAR race and Somehow Lucas Landed a job as head mechanic for Carlos Contreras's race team. Shocked as I was, I get on a flight to Florida it is a good shocked but WOW. I got a Hotel room and then went to the track . Took me a little convincing to get in . Security walked me to the Pit where I found my baby boy covered in grease. Under a car . When Lucas jumped up and hugged me they left us alone . test moment's in a parent's life is seeing your child seceded at something he loves. This was Lucas's dream !Like writing is for me. It was his turn. Lucas Introduced me to Carlos with sparkles in his eyes . Carlos seemed to Like what My Son does. Even tells me that Because of my Boy, Carlos has won 8 races. How more proud can I get I am in tears. While I was here I went to a few races and Lucas and I raided the theme parks. Then one night Lucas had a grown up moment and told me I had to go back to the U.K.. He said I write my best stuff there and I need to make peace with Myself. How did my Autistic Son get so smart. Then he tells me. He is a big Guy now and He didn't need his Mom to hover.

Chapter 2

Something New

So once I'm back in London. I dust off My flat that Luke made sure I got despite me moving in with Tom. Besides writing, a few friend's gave me the intro to the London night life and I found a outlet to unwind . But I didn't drown myself like in Cali. But I still maintained my Party Mama status. Also I am exercising regularly, to compensate for the Night life . But I found that I have way's now that I am Back to make exercising fun. I do the Gym of course. But I also like rollerskating in Hyde or St. James park, when it's sunny. I found a Ice Skating rink that is 7 day's a week. And there is a indoor pool at the Gym I go to. .

But I realized some things while I was home in the states. I can't ever forget where I came from . So I pay it forward to 4 special organizations for charity and I never write them off my taxes . I went back to church I actually found a Nazarene church in the U.K. Honestly Church is what keeps me semi sober in the clubs on Friday and Saturday. No hangovers in Gods house .So I have been busy. By maintaining the order of my life like I did way before when My soul purpose was being a MOM. God, Family Friends career is a new addition but not that high on the list.

I found a way to keep myself going .My heart has even healed to a point and I am actually making good friends with “ The Hiddleston “ I can't even comprehend The fact that Sophia took Tom's name . I didn't think her agent's would let her do that. Any how I Am officially Aunty Shannon to Charlie and he even still talks to Lucas and they talk cars regularly according to Tom. As for right now though I'm actually doing more than writing I am at The Harold Pinter theater in London as a Producer and assistant to Kenneth Branaugh the director of a play Based on one of my fan fiction stories . It's a Vampire Love story with a family twist. No Not Twilight no blood sucking fairies here. But what has me excited is the cast . Tom is in it along a whole bunch of my fave idol's Including Henry Cavill as the male lead. . OK! I fibbed Kenny doesn't need me the whole time so I am writing when I am not teaching Charlie Who is acting for the first time. Tom is One Proud Papa! I will tell you what. And Charlie Looks like he is having a wonderful time despite playing a Girl demon!

also I do have a little Mystery of my own I am trying to solve. Every morning when I get to work. Yes I'm getting paid for this production. I go to my seat and drink my coffee but I find a different colored long stem lily in the seat . I asked Tom. If Charlie was doing it and I even ask Ken. None said It was them. Both even offered to investigate with me . Saying they have a little experience because they played P.I.'s

I was actually flattered I had an admirer. I just hope I won't regret taking the Lily more seriously. Anyway The play is gearing up for opening night I called Lucas's aide Reed to Se if He will be able to be in London for my Play . Which If it does well it will head to the States and go on Broadway. Now tell me if that ain't totally awesome. I.K.R. We as far as my Book's are concerned Luca start's Middle School. So Social interaction and puberty mixes in with his amazing world which should make for a wild ride for our readers. My honorary nephew is even reading them which make's my heart sing Oh! So I don't leave it out my lily was Aquamarine and silk today not real but it had a pink bow and it sparkled . He-he! Who ever this is knows I like things that sparkle. It makes me giddy.

Opening Night!!!!

My Lucas is here . Looking Just Like he did Prom Night When he took my god daughter to the prom. My boy is So handsome. Lucas has been working out so My lucas is Tall and Jacked thanks to His Buddy Phillip Hull. We get to ride in a Limo It will be Lucas's first time in one. Me! I'm In all Red Long red hair with a touch of gray at the temple and proud of it. A Long Jessica rabbit dress that sparkles in the light. Red flat's I ain't that crazy . It's gonna be a long night and I am in my 50's Heels are not in the program. I had red cloves and a red silk Shaw. I felt amazing and all my boy could say is Wow mama Look Pretty! LOL! I am also excited not only for the play but according to the Little note I got with My Red Rose that was sitting in my seat on the last day of practice. I get to meet my admirer tonight too

So Lucas and I are off Lucas is Like a school boy Looking around and he is also a little nervous. I can tell he Keeps Playing with his collar and tie. I made sure Luke had a pair of ear buds and his fave music in a MP3. And sunglasses to help with Lucas's experience. Plus so he doesn't have to deal with the red carpet stuff Reed is here so Lucas will be with me only for a few pictures then Reed will take him inside while I deal with the popularity this sold out play has caused . New York here we come!!!!!!

Lucas went inside as planned. And Luke is by my side in his place as my escort. Luke felt I shouldn't be alone. Because of the split and Tom's marriage. Even though Tom and I are cool talking about and he is even here with Taylor so I'm cool. I was having lot's of fun taking little interview's and pictures and such. Luke always said I was surprisingly easy going in the lime light and it shows tonight. `Sophia , Ken and I had some fun with the photo people and Kissed Each side of Tom's cheeks while he was trying to pic up Kenneth, then we Bent down to Kiss Ken's cheeks when Tom dropped him on his butt ,our booties where purposely in the air. Let's Just say we made Kenny's night! I was all in good fun Tom told me that Charlie was inside with new Hot wheels car's to show Lucas cause they are NASCAR ones.

Finishing up the pictures and fixing to go inside I was about to give up hope on there being an admirer. When I went to take one last. Picture, Henry Cavill came to Join me in the picture and whispered in my ear to Look down, as he grabbed my waist for the picture . I did. And their was a pink Lily and a white rose in his hand tied in a pink bow. Let's Just say that pic had my mouth hanging open and Henry laughing as we went in to the theater. Let the new dance begin.

Lois Lane never Got Superman this way Ha!

Chapter 3

Don't jump! One moment @ a Time.

As far as the play went it was as major success. I couldn't pay attention at all . I was staring at Henry the whole time In awe of all of this.As far as I was concerned it was like I had never tasted this before . I won't lie, it scares the shit out of me . I was a ball of nerves the whole play . It was Thomas all over again. @ least that was what I thought. Until Henry asked if I would sign a book for is Nephews Daughter who has Down syndrome. I was politely surprised . He then introduced himself to my Son. Which Lucas can recognize any actor who has ever played a Superhero or villain . Henry was one of our faves. He asked if we wanted to grab a bite to eat . Lucas always could eat. Even in his 30's endless Belly! Can you see 3 adult's in fancy dress in Mc. Donald's. I Loved it Because Henry took the liberty to date Lucas first. To me that Mc. Donald's was 5 stars. The Limo dropped 2 very full and sleepy men at My son's Hotel. I was sparkling in happiness. We pulled up in front of my flat but Henry wouldn't let me out yet. I think he wants to talk . So naturally I listened.

fore I could even say anything He Quieted me and held my hand . Baby Blues connected. Then he spoke. “ Shannon I know what you went through with Hiddleston. I grilled him after meeting you . Actually I'm kinda surprised he didn't rat me out. Story for another time. Now that you understand my intent. I want time. Time to know you. Also before you get nervous, will it help If I got permission from Lucas to date you and Charlie Hiddleston second's the permission. I'm normally a prideful Man But Shannon something inside Tell's me I am supposed to started something new with You. I want get to know you Date you proper. If anything let's see where it goes. Even if we don't connect more personally . We can at least catch a grind to a tune and groove like buddies”.

My breath hitch because I just realize that dude I was grinding with in California at that club. The English Dude. That was Henry!!!!! He notices my blush and Shakes his head showing me the bracelet. I smack his shoulder Laughing my Blush off. Then I told him I am willing to try and if all else fails Partying in New York won't get boring . Then he kissed my Palm and let me out . I gave him my # and told him to give me a call when he was ready to try. The Limo waited till I was Inside. But instead of Leaving The door opened and Henry came running up to me . Grabbed my waist, pulled me close and Kissed me. We exploded!!!!

Hand in Hand at JFK airport Henry and I go straight to the Hotel . No Not for that . We came early so Henry could as he says Court me proper. LOL! There is nothing I'd rather do the then run all over NYC for the first time with Henry. I have jumped in fully no comparing to any other love . This is true Eros and I'm going with the flow. That was our agreement for each other the next morning after the Play. To Just Love & enjoy till the fluffy lady quits singing.

I exploded because of SuperMan!

{None of this story is real the pic are from Googles images !!!!!!!!!!!!}

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totallypathet · 5 years ago

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Episode Three

First of all...what the fuck was that challenge. And what the fuck was the logic to judging it?! I spent so much of this episode just being confused. I think it would have been so much better if they were allowed to come up with their own ideas and characters, instead of having this really narrow space to work in; that was bizarre to me. Like Just Jan could have done a really delusional, high energy character who was the worst singer in the world; that would have been funny! Instead they stuck them with these bizarre storylines that made no sense, and had very little humour in them. Idk whose choice that was but it was a choice. Anyway, let's get into the rundown!

1. Aiden Zhane

I am not living for Aiden at all. Her attitude in both episodes has let a lot to be desired for me. And also, that runway? What was that? I could buy that dress on Asos, glue some bows to it and have that look. The concept was cool, the bows falling on her? Cool idea. But if you're going to do that then you need to Do It, yknow? Like it would have been cool if she'd had a huge wig completely made of bows. Or if she'd had an umbrella and made it look like it was raining bows, or something, that could have been really cool! It could have been amazing and she took a really easy way out. Disappointing. And her performance was dull. She deserved to be in the bottom more than Nicky Doll.

The only thing I will say for Aiden in this episode is the way Brita and Redacted behaved towards her was really uncool. They did that whole "you didnt lead us at all", and then told her that they carried her? You know that if she had led them they would have totally thrown her under the bus and said "well we do this professionally and we wanted to do this, but she was the leader and she made us do that". It was totally a damned if you, damned if you don't; and that was really unfair.

2. Brita

Guys, I am Bored of Brita. I am over it, and I am underwhelmed. I haven't seen anything from her that I've enjoyed! Her looks have been dull, she's not that funny, and I dont like the way she behaves (like I said with Aiden). She wont be next to go home, but hopefully she wont be long.

3. Crystal Methyd

STOP TRYING TO CHANGE CRYSTAL METHYD! I'm so sick of them going "oh her makeup is always the same", when it has been different each time!! She has a style and a brand, but it's not the same face!! Aiden Zhane does the same fucking face, none of them have picked that out! Loads of queens come in and they only have one face! Not mentioning any names Silky Nutmeg Ganache and Roxxxy Andrews. They got away with it because they were beauty mugs and that's the type of drag this show is biased towards. Crystal Methyd is an artist, let her do herself! That runway look was ugly though. Having said all that. Her face was gorgeous, I loved her makeup, I just thought that look wasnt very her! It didn't suit her somehow, it wasn't right. But she tried really hard during the improv, and I think she did a passable job! She honestly should have been safe, fight me. I just really hope she doesn't change herself to please the judges bc she has such a great vision and point of view, and I don't want her to lose sight of how great she is.

4. Dahlia Sin

Dahlia, Dahlia, Dahlia. Speaking of being underwhelmed, am I right? I had such high hopes for Dahlia, but this week she just didn't pull anything out. I personally think the fruit sketch was really funny, but it would have been exactly the same if Dahlia hadn't been in the group. She was so focused on being ~sexy~ (which is tough in a broccoli costume), that she forgot about everything else. Plus her bows and buttons look was just...odd. from the neck up it had this very avant garde, couture feel, but the outfit itself just looked unfinished. And then to have this weird arse peekaboo thing? Really weird choice. She deserved to be in the bottom and, after that lip sync, she deserved to go home.

I have seen a lot of posts about Dahlia "storming out", and I genuinely don't understand what they're talking about? Like, okay, she didn't say anything before she walked off, does that really constitute storming off? If she'd walked off while Ru was still talking, or if she'd yelled/screamed/sworn, then sure, maybe - but from what I saw she was just upset and wanted to leave as fast as possible. Idk, also they haven't released Untucked on the UK Netflix, so maybe there was more I didnt see.

5. Gigi Goode

I live for Gigi so much. I mean come on! Her character in the improv was passed out half the time and still had presence! She's so funny, and she's not afraid to let loose and get ugly. I think she did a good job in the improv, especially for someone without all that much experience, and her look on the runway was incredible. Solid 8/10 for Gigi this week.

6. Heidi N Closet

Heidi was robbed. I bought everything Heidi was selling this week. I bought it, I didn't stream it, I didn't rent it from the Netflix, I bought it. She was so funny during the challenge; the flipper? She spat out? Iconic. She had me dying the whole time, her, Jackie Cox and Gigi Goode should have their own series, I'd watch the hell out of it. Then she came bouncing down the runway as glitter Pinnochio, and she told that story about when she was at school and I loved every second! Shes so charming, and loveable, and relatable, and Jaida Essence Hall must have been gagged when she was top 2. She was robbed, she should have won, and she should keep her name! That whole thing with "the mouth has to change shape and it's not satisfying to say"? Bullshit, utter bullshit bitch. Heidi N Closet 4lyf.

7. Jackie Cox

Jackie made me so happy this week! Their whole group was hilarious, but Jackie doing the bad ventriloquist act just sent me, I loved it. And she just seems like the sweetest person as well! Her runway look was gorgeous, I loved the reference, her makeup was absolutely stunning, Jackie Cox is seriously the whole package. Her and Heidi should have been top 2 together.

8. Jaida Essence Hall

Jaida came in looking like a pageant queen, but she seriously flexed her comedy muscles this week! Her "bad apple" was hilarious, and she really committed to it! She was a firm leader in the group, but she was a good team player in the scene, she let everyone else have their moment too, and it was a good performance! I was a little bit disappointed that her runway look was very very similar to her spring mini challenge look from last week, but it was still a good look, and honestly I probably wouldnt have noticed if it hadn't been one episode after the other. She has shown a lot of diversity already, I think she just set the bar so high last week that I was really expecting something incredible, and I got something that was "just" good instead. She's still one to beat at the moment!

9. Jan

Jan made me so proud this week!! She was really funny in the skit, she had so much energy and enthusiasm, I loved it! Her jokes were funny, she picked a solid character and played it well, and can we talk about the runway though??? I really expected her to come out in something cute, because her personality is so bubbly and instead she gave me horror high fashion, monster couture and she Sold. Every. Second. It was a total transformation from the challenge to the runway and that, at the heart of it, is what I love about drag; that transformation aspect is just art to me. For me, Jan has it all. She definitely should have been top 3 this week. I think she's served the best runways so far, and I cannot wait to see what she does next week.

10. Nicky Doll

Okay, you guys know I love Nicky Doll. This week was not a good week for her. I appreciate that improv must be so hard in your second language, but I think she suffered a little bit from Dahlia Syndrome: she was so focused on staying pretty that she didn't really deliver anything. I kind of wish her character had literally just been French and spoke no English - part of the joke could have been that language barrier and Crystal/Window not understanding a word she said and her getting more and more frustrated about it. That could have been really funny. Also, her runway look...I know where she was going with it, it was a cool concept, and it was executed okay, there was just something missing, you know? It felt a little bit rushed, and again there was this real focus on being ~pretty~. Maybe if she'd looked a little more Cinderella ish, like her makeup wasn't perfect, and her hair was tied up like she was actually sewing, it would have sold me a little more character. I'm not sure, everything was just a little off for me this week, but I still think she's fierce af, and we all stumble sometimes. I'm looking forward to seeing her get back on her feet next week!

11. Rock M Sakura

Rock M was picked last for the challenge, I could not believe it. She deserved better than that, I was shook. She definitely picked the right group though, she was really funny as the Orange! She looked like she was having fun, and that's what I love about Rock M, is that I have fun watching her have fun. Her jokes were great, she matched Jan's energy, and I think she did a good job. I loved her runway look as well, the Alice in Wonderland concept was great, and I love that she kept the dress pretty simple so that the focus was on her hair and makeup! Her makeup was gorgeous, and the detail of the buttons on her face was stunning! It was a great concept, well executed, this week was a great week for Rock M, and I'm going to be furious if she gets picked last again.

12. Widow Von Du

Widow is getting The Edit. The edit that queens of colour who are talented get, where they paint them as bitchy, or loud, or as stepping on the other girls' toes; so that the audience isn't too pussed off when they get eliminated. Widow is exceedingly talented, and funny, and filled with personality. She also serves looks and delivers incredible performances. I will not let this edit take that away from her. She did great this week. She delivered everything I ordered in the challenge and more, she completely transformed for the runway, and she sold me a great presentation. Widow is definitely one to beat.

#rpdr spoilers #rpdr12 spoilers #rpdr12 #season 12 #drag race season 12 #aiden zhane #Brita #crystal methyd #dahlia sin #gigi goode #heidi n closet #jackie cox #jaida essence hall #jan sport #just jan #nicky doll #rock m sakura #widow von du

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thor-tony · 5 years ago

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Consider this: Thor/Tony high school pining idiots AU

The Avengers are in their senior year and part of student government which includes a senate committee. Their positions are as follows: Rhodey- Presiding Officer; Pepper - Treasurer; Bruce - Secretary; Sam - Senator of Discipline; Thor - of Athletics; Nat - of PR; Tony - of Student Life, Clint - of Service, Steve - of Academics)

The committee members are all good friends with each other but they also have their own close-knit group of friends outside of the committee that they moan to about their crushes

Thor and Steve are also in the football team (duh)

Tony likes to watch them practice after AP Physics and likes dragging Rhodey with him. He always claims that he’s just there to support Happy as well as his friends from student gov. Rhodey knows better and teases him and urges him to stop acting like some teenage girl in an anime watching senpai practices on the side hoping senpai would notice him.

Tony doesn’t know if he should be concerned how Rhodey knows all those anime references or if he should be really doing some self-reflection. But as far as he’s concerned Thor and Val are an item, or at least have something going on. Val is a year below them, she’s highly competitive with Thor but they also have this tension between them which Tony thinks would be really hot if he wasn’t pining for Thor. And she’s going to be the Senator of Athletics next year for sure. The two are just so close and they’re always laughing and hugging and they’re so perfect and excuse Tony for a sec, he’s wallowing in his sorrow again.

When Tony’s not feeling sorry for himself, he’s offering the football team based some strategic plays on his observations. The team of guys who are mostly 6′2″ all respect this tiny compact 5′9″ genius, and some would say adore, which is especially true for a certain linebacker with a thunderous laugh. Tony’s presence always motivates him to put in extra effort at practice. So maybe he’s a bit of a show off but he wants Tony’s attention. Tony’s smart, funny and attentive, and offered to get him greasy breakfast food and a hangover cure when Thor came to school after a wild house party one day. Thor’s never forgotten that act of kindness and care.

Then one day before practice, Steve, who’s also captain of the football team, runs up to Tony before practice begins, to express his thanks for Tony’s input and support as they'd won their game the night before, which was against their biggest rival Hydra High. Tony’s taken aback by the genuine gratitude being expressed towards him, and from Steve, of all people, who always challenges/disagrees with him during their senate meetings. He’s not used to this and he blushes from the praise.

School gossip circulates the next day on the Daily Bugle section of their school’s smartphone app. Everyone in the comments section is wondering if the Captain has captured The Tony Stark’s heart because someone has snapped a picture of that moment with the two yesterday. Tony doesn’t pay much attention to the rumours because he’s used to being the topic of people’s conversation -- it kind of comes with the price being a Stark -- and it will soon be yesterday’s news anyway.

But now Thor is really bummed by the rumours, and it’s all making sense now why Tony watches their practice all the time. And it also explains the whole Tony and Steve glaring staring-at-each-other-until-someone-clears-their-throat thing at their meetings. And it doesn’t help overhearing what Tony’s been saying to Rhodey over lunch. (Yes he’s pathetic, as his brother has kindly reminded him, choosing a table so ‘causally and coincidentally’ next to Tony’s so he can be closer to him in hopes of getting a smile from him)

At the table a couple metres over, Tony’s been saying to Rhodey something about luscious blond locks and a golden smile that warms the whole galaxy, a spirit so vigorous yet gentle like the morning sun, and, “he’s so kindhearted and funny and those muscles !! Rhodey!! I’ll admit it’s shallow of me but it’s a work of art, I’m only human, and we all strive for beauty and art.”

When Tony and Rhodey turn to leave, they notice Thor’s been sitting right next to them this whole time and oh shit, he’s not supposed to hear that oh no! He must think I’m shallow only lusting after him, and he’s gonna avoid me now congrats for blowing it Tony! Great!

Tony gives them a tight smile turns on his heels, and Thor is even sadder now. Not only has he lost Tony to the Captain, but now Tony’s mad at him for eavesdropping. Even Loki can’t tell who’s Tony is talking about and he wouldn’t be surprised if the rumours turn out to be true. He can only pat his brother’s slumped shoulder and offer him his ice cream as consolation.

Now in comes Steve, who may be a bit of a disaster when it comes to his own love life but he’s observant and he can tell when his friends are into each other. He knows about the rumours going on and he uses them to his advantage, teams up with Rhodey so they can work together to get their friends’ heads out of their asses and admit their crushes on each other. Thor and Tony are being dumb, okay, and the rest of their friends are really tired watching them blush and stammer at each other or moaning about each other at lunch when they can just be making out under the bleachers instead and their friends can finally eat in peace.

So Steve decides to rile Thor up a bit, play up the rumours and make them seem true. In the locker rooms before practice he’ll be singing Tony’s praises, saying, “Tony really had an incredible idea for our next charity event, don’t you think, Thor? He’s got such a great business sense. With Nat’s help I’m sure they’re going to get a lot of sponsors. He’s so great.”

Thor, through gritted teeth, says, “Yes, he’s wonderful. You know I think he’s amazing.”

Steve: “He sure is! We had lunch together today --”

“I noticed.”

“-- and he was so cute when he had trouble opening his jar of chia pudding -- apparently he’s trying to eat healthy at least once a week. Anyway, I got it open for him and he was really sweet. He went on and on about how much he’s appreciative of big muscles paired with shiny blond hair, and how he loves watching football practice because of the way our pants fit. Isn’t he the best? He’s outside now waiting for us to go out and start practice and man, I’m just so glad to provide him with a nice view when he’s sitting on those bleachers watching us.”

And if Thor had bothered parsing out those words, he’d realize that everything Steve had described was vague enough that he could totally be referring to himself and insinuating that he and Tony are an item (or close to being one) OR he could be talking about Thor and how Tony loves watching him.

But Thor’s seething, okay, he’s annoyed because Steve KNOWS how much he’d always liked Tony. He doesn’t need to rub it in like this. Thor’s frustrated af because hello???? He has all those qualities that Steve described too??? Why can’t Tony look at him instead of stupid perfect Steve???

Thor’s a dumbass.

A week later, Thor, Steve, Nat, and Rhodey are sitting at lunch together so they can discuss their group project for their environmental science class. Of course, things get off topic and Homecoming is brought up. Nat mentions she’s going to be sending out another email to the student body about nominations for Homecoming king and queen, and reminds the guys that they need to send Pepper daily updates on how many tickets they’ve sold. Steve nudges Rhodey a bit and nods at Thor, which prompts Rhodey to go, “You know, Tony’s been waiting for a certain blond football player to ask him to the dance. And if said football player doesn’t do so soon then Tony might think the worst of himself and wallow for the rest of the month. I’m probably gonna have to give up my homecoming plans to console him for that entire weekend. Bring him ice cream, watch Star Trek with him until he forgets about aforementioned football player.” He says that last part very, very pointedly.

Thor’s glaring at Steve when he hears this. He thinks, what the fuck dude? He’s your boyfriend and you haven’t even asked him to the dance yet? You don’t know how to appreciate him, ugh, I could do so much better.

At the same time, Steve turns to Thor, cheeky shit-eating smile on his face and says, “You heard him. When the hell are you going to get your act together and ask Tony out, huh? If you wait any longer someone else is going to snatch him off the market.”

And Thor’s so confused because wait, Steve isn’t dating Tony??? He wants to smack himself because what the FUCK, he’s an idiot. Tony likes him back and they could have been dating and sharing milkshakes and sitting together at lunch this whole time if Thor had just asked Tony out for a coffee in junior year when Tony offered him that hangover cure.

So Thor gets up, marches over to Tony’s table with half his lunch -- an uneaten cheeseburger (he ran out to Burger King and bought two that day -- he gets hungry, okay?) -- and the thermos of coffee he keeps in his bag and presents it to the school’s resident genius.

Tony, who’d been alternating between complaining to Pepper and Happy about not having a date to the dance and gazing longingly at Thor, is completely surprised by his crush’s sudden appearance by his side.

The blond cuts to the chase. “I know this isn’t the fanciest way to ask, but I didn’t want to waste any more time,” he tells Tony. He pushes the food over to Tony, knowing that he’s weak for junk food and caffeine, and, apparently, Thor. “Would you accept this greasy burger and unfortunately lukewarm coffee, and, perhaps, go to homecoming with me?”

Clint, who’d been watching and lazily shoving waffle fries in his mouth, goes, “fuckin’ finally, god.”

“Shut up, birdbrain,” Tony says without even looking at Clint, because he’s too busy staring at Thor with heart eyes and wow, is that a flush of red creeping up Thor’s neck? He’s adorable.

Of course, Tony says yes. And just for the record, that was the best way anyone has ever asked him out.

#thortony #thunderiron #ironthunder #tonythor #tony stark #thor odinson #fics #au #*#cherie*#kay*

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 85

Chapter Summary - Danielle and Tom wake up after finally being able to sleep properly again, but the day is anything but easy.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom woke after sleeping soundly for the first time in over a week. Danielle was curled up against him, her fingers gripping his t-shirt as she seemed adamant to keep him next to her.

They had enjoyed their meal in the pub, it was as delicious as she had said it would be, their conversation, since they had discussed the serious matters in the car, was light-hearted and pleasant; Tom telling her about Milan and some of the clothes he had seen and Danielle telling him of what occurred in Ireland during her time there.

He shifted slightly and Danielle groaned, her head getting tucked in more next to his shoulder. "That is not an overly comfortable place to be." He smiled.

"I beg to differ, it's a great place to be."

"How long are you awake?" Tom questioned, noticing her sleep was neither slurred nor half incoherent as it tended to be immediately after she woke.

"A few minutes."

"You said nothing."

"I didn't want to, I just wanted to relax like this."

"I can relate." Tom looked around the room, it was dated, but in an antique manner. "So this is your grandparents' house?"

"Yep, my dad was born in this room."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm, my aunts and uncle too."

"Wow, what about the hospital?"

"Tom, the nearest hospital is over an hour away in Galway, my grandparents didn't have a car, my dad would have been starting school by the time she'd have walked there." Tom chuckled next to her. "It was the done thing, you had them at home with a neighbour helping."

"You said your grandparents were farmers?"

"Yeah, the farm sheds are mostly gone, but there are a few outhouses left. The fields were sold by Nan so she'd be able to keep the house after granddad died, hence why this little acre is going to be worth a pittance." She stretched. "I better get ready for the auctioneers actually." she made to move but Tom stopped her, his cerulean blue eyes filled with lust. "Tom, we can't," she warned; her voice a whisper. The night before they had been tired on their return from the airport and their stop for dinner meant they were late getting back, so they stripped to their underwear and had fallen asleep quickly.

"I know," He acknowledged, Danielle had warned him that the walls were thin at best and her cousin was in the next room and she knew her aunt would be there soon. It was one thing to be in a bed together, something she knew Bernadette would be angered by anyway, but if they were heard doing anything, that would only cause issues. "But you know what we have not done in a week?" Danielle's brows furrowed. "I have not kissed you." he leant over her, looking for permission to kiss her silently.

"If we do, will you control yourself?" She asked quietly.

"I have little choice." leaning up, she pressed her lips to his, a sensual moan escaping her as she did so. "Okay, enough; I can't, not if you are making noises like that, if you are going kiss me like that, I will…" Tom pulled back.

"Yes, I can feel that." She grinned, implying she could feel a very hard and eager appendage on her thigh.

"You can hardly blame me, I have you back." He smiled, looking down at her before his face went solemn. "I am so sorry about…"

"It's done." Tom's brow furrowed. "Though next time we have an argument, don't try and use sex as a Band-Aid."

"I wasn't trying to, I just wanted to show you how much I love you." He explained. "I hope there isn't a 'next time'."

"We will argue Tom," She scoffed, he toyed with his hair, "We just need to deal with it better."

"I like how you say 'we'." He smiled. "So many people, myself included, can be unable to look at their actions."

"No one is perfect Tom."

"I come fairly close though, right?" He joked.

"Maybe to some of your crazier fans, but I know you better." Danielle kissed him again. "I better get up for the auctioneer."

"This room is cosy," Tom commented, watching as Danielle got some clothes out of her suitcase.

"This whole house is really, wait until you see everything. We came in in darkness, you have not seen it properly yet." she grinned.

Curiosity got the better of him and Tom got out of bed too. "I know this might seem vain, but your cousin…"

"Yes, she was staring at your ass yesterday," Danielle laughed.

"You aren't…"

Danielle tied the button of her jeans and zipped them up before coming over and cupping one of Tom's ass cheeks. "Well, it just happens I am with the man that won 'rear of the year', I have to accept that that can mean girls are going to be staring at your ass from time to time. I am also aware that a considerable amount of people are somewhat interested in the this," She snaked her hand to his crotch, "And you, in general."

"Out of curiosity, is it a dislike of doing anything in your grandmother's house in general or when others are here."

"The former," Tom swore. "You sound like someone who is going to suffer 'blue balls'," she scoffed.

"I may just, I have my sexy girlfriend and a desperate want to show her in a very thorough manner, just how much I care for her in every way." He said in a sexy voice.

Danielle was about to say something else when raised voice caught their attention. "The hell?" Tom finished putting on his pants and she opened the door, as soon as she listened to the no longer muffled voices, she groaned. "Bernadette is back."

"Your aunt?" Danielle nodded. "Was she supposed to be gone?"

"Herself and her husband Kevin were supposed to come back this morning after dropping Laura and Richard to Galway," Danielle told him. "Jesus, this is going to be fifty shades of bullshit now, she is going to be an absolute bitch." More arguing began, causing Danielle to listen to the words being spoken. "Oh?"

"Elle?"

"You know what, I think we better go down." Tom looked at her in confusion, "Laura needs saving."

"I thought you didn't really like her."

"I don’t have anything in common with her and we are not close, but I don't dislike her and right now, she needs someone to take some attention off her," Danielle explained. Unsure why Danielle was being so kind as to allow herself be a scapegoat, Tom tied his shoes and walked out the door behind her, on hearing what an older woman was effectively shouting at her daughter, he immediately agreed with Danielle's choice to go downstairs.

"And where is he in all of this, or is there even a he?" Bernadette demanded of her oldest daughter.

"There probably is a he, otherwise we've got the second coming happening in Galway, fuck Mayo and their beloved sighting of our Lady in Knock." Danielle scoffed walking into the sitting room. "And could you keep it down, there are people on Croagh Patrick that can probably hear you."

"You keep out of this," Bernadette warned.

"I would believe me, only as someone with a background in a medical field, I know the damage to the health of a pregnant woman that stress can cause, but you are being so loud it is involving me and you are making a holy show of yourself, which is utterly embarrassing for me."

"What embarrassment to you, this is nothing to do with you?" Bernadette dismissed. A moment later, Tom entered the room, doing his best to seem unphased by the horrible atmosphere and demeanour. "Who is he? Some hitchhiker you found on the side of the road last night I suppose."

"Yeah, I thought it wise to bring a random stranger home with me," Danielle stated sarcastically. "This is my boyfriend, his name is Tom and I can say here and now that though his family has never been anything but lovely to me, you have, in thirty seconds, embarrassed yourself in front of him, from your manner or lack thereof to your daughter, me and indeed him, so cheers for that anyway Bernie, and if you have nothing better to say or do, I would ask that you talk and not yell as we are all in the one house, which, though you seem to think is the size of Kilkenny Castle is actually a small farm cottage, so you know, we can hear you." Danielle walked into the kitchen, not saying any more to her family as her aunt stared at her in anger, her uncle looked at Tom as if wondering how he had not noticed the other man in the time they had been at the cottage, while Laura, who had been upset, stared at him as she tried to recognise how she knew him.

Tom, who felt incredibly awkward, gave a small nod of his head and walked into the kitchen after her. "She's as lovely as you described," Danielle said nothing. "Elle?"

"I'm sorry," She gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. "I literally look like I come from absolute mud."

Tom put his arms around her, "No, you warned me about your aunt and I met Siobhan and spoke to Richard who are both normal, well, Siobhan is a tad mental, but she is a nice person, so I know that you come from a normal family, but every family has that one person, they are not always a snob, but there is something about them that makes them less than pleasant," he kissed her head. "Though she's a special case on many levels."

"You have no idea." Danielle groaned.

"This house is gorgeous." Tom looked around. "Exactly everything I imagined a small farming homestead to be."

"Look out the window." Danielle pulled the curtain back. The design of the house meant Tom had to stoop down, the way he inhaled confirmed Danielle's idea of how he would take it. "That's why I love it here."

"Now I understand why you moved to Suffolk."

"It is a lot like here."

"Did you live nearby?"

"Not too far, a few kilometres away, a bit closer the water."

"Will you bring me there?"

"If you want, today is fairly full-on, but we will have to get a few bits, so we can pass it on the way to the shops." Danielle smiled before sensing someone in the doorway, looking around, she saw Laura. "You okay?"

"Thank you."

"Where's your Mam?"

"Gone to the car to call Uncle Richard that you have some 'dirty Brit' staying in Nan's room with you."

"Well then, at least you're not the only slut for the laundry." Danielle winked.

"Were those things actually real?" Tom asked, horrified.

"Yes, they were," Danielle informed him, causing Tom to shiver. "Tom, this is Siobhan's sister Laura, Laura, this is my boyfriend, Tom." Danielle introduced them to one another. Laura waved from the doorway. "How far along…?"

"Ten weeks, I thought I wasn't suffering too badly so I could come, but she went snooping my bag and found my folic acid and my appointment card," Laura explained.

"Bitch," Danielle growled. "What's your plan now?"

"I rang Julia, she's coming to collect me, Evan is going to meet me in Galway."

"Good, look after yourself, forget your Mam, you've someone else more important that needs you." Danielle smiled.

"Are you okay, mum is going for you in this thing."

Danielle winked at her, "I can handle Bernie, I have my dad's stubbornness and my mam's bitchiness."

"She always hated your mum."

"The feeling, I can assure you, was mutual."

Laura gave another small wave. "I am going to flee while she is on the phone having a conniption." She turned to see someone behind her. "Hey."

"Ready, I have the kids in the car?"

"Yeah, thanks, Julie."

"No problem, who is…?"

"Danielle and her boyfriend."

"Danielle has a...?" As another one of Danielle's cousin's poked her head in the door, her face turned to one of shock. "TOM HIDDLESTON!"

"Who?" Laura looked at Tom again.

"You…but…Danielle…Him…"

"Yes, he is Tom Hiddleston," Danielle confirmed.

"You are going out with Tom Hiddleston, you, Danielle, my cousin?"

"Yes." Danielle nodded.

"How?"

"I lived next door to his mother, we know each other a few years."

"You never said anything," Julia stated indignantly.

"In all fairness, who'd have believed me?" Danielle laughed. Julia continued to stare. "You're married with kids." Danielle reminded her. That did not stop Julia from staring. "Go, before your Mam is off the phone." Danielle encouraged.

"Wait, so he is famous, my mind isn't messing with me?" Laura asked.

Danielle sighed. "You literally asked Siobhan two days ago if she would see the new Kong movie with you."

"Wait, he's THAT actor…how did you…?"

Danielle shook her head. "As you can see," She turned slightly, Tom still had his hand on her waist, "my extended family thinks so much of me."

"But you're normal," Laura said, as though it was some type of defence.

"Well, I feel special." Danielle scoffed. "Thank you both, you are so good for the old confidence."

"But, he was with Taylor Swift…"

"Yes, was, now I have upgraded, substantially." Tom smiled politely, bringing Danielle closer to him.

"You have all the luck," Julia growled.

"Yes, I do." Danielle grinned. "Now, we are coming again soon so if you want a proper conversation, we'll meet then, as for now, you need to leave."

She's right, come on." Julia insisted, ushering Laura to the door. "You alright to handle Bernie?"

"I'm Mattie Hughes's daughter."

"Uncle Mattie always kept her in her box."

"Now it's my turn." Julia went outside, a cold comment to Bernadette as she did.

"She'll be in in a second," Danielle sighed.

Tom kissed her head, "You're able for her." Danielle gave a non-committal noise, "Will they say anything?"

"Does it really matter?" She heard Bernadette coming in. "Here we go." She inhaled deeply.

"In my mother's room." She began in disgust.

"Well, you want to sell the house so if me having my boyfriend in her room is a desecration to her, your going against her command to not sell this house will have her turning in her grave."

"Your father would be sickened."

Danielle felt her pulse race, "Yes he would, that his sister would think she can decide for the whole family what is to happen because she wants more money, a woman that doesn't know a days work getting up her own arse and for what, to keep up with people that wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire." She spat. "My dad would only care that I am happy and three seconds in Tom's company and I know he and Mam would be delighted. You hated dad, though that means nothing, you hate everyone, and now your daughter is having a baby that will have to realise that you are a twisted bitch too, so just go and get a loan like the rest of us and leave nan's alone."

"I will do no such thing you little tramp," Bernadette hissed, "And it's going to happen, so you better get out of the way."

"I can't actually, I have a realtor on his way." Bernadette's eyes bulged. "Oh, didn't Uncle Richard tell you? I am getting the house looked at, so it can get a proper assessment. I know you had your friend's son give a price, which I know it is fifty thousand over market value for anything in the area, so I am having a guy from McCarthy's in Galway take a look at it to make sure anything that any assessment given is a proper one." Bernadette looked at her in disgust. "So, you can stay or go, but I am staying, and I am getting it priced honestly. Then we will get back to you about it."

Bernadette looked to Tom, "What are you even bothering with her for?"

"Well personally, I find Elle to be a beautiful, intelligent and wonderful person to be around, my family adore her and in truth, I find her strength and independence to be exceptionally alluring."

"Too many big words for her there," Danielle warned. "Tea?"

"Please, darling." He smiled back. "Is there any porridge?" the pair began readying their breakfast as Bernadette became more enraged at their lack of attention to her and stormed off. "Luke will have heart failure with you yet."

"I know, I am worried for him."

"Are you serious you want too…?"

"Yes," She confirmed. Tom smiled at her lovingly. "You're all clear." At that, he frowned.

A moment later, Siobhan snuck out of the back room that held the washing machine. "Phew, so what are we having for breakfast?" She asked walking over, before turning to Tom "Ooh, is Chris single?"

"He's married, remember." Danielle reminded her.

"This is Marvel, there are about thirty guys called Chris." She retorted.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 85 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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lifeascaty · 4 years ago

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If you don't mind my asking, how come you went to the us to pursue screenwriting? I'm from the UK too and was curious, is there more opportunities in the us?

Yeah, in the Western World then Hollywood is king when it comes to the film industry.

The majority of British screenwriters I know over here spent years working their way up the UK career ladder until they were able to move to the US. It was their ultimate goal. Take the staffing system. American TV shows hire rooms of writers for each season. In the UK, some of my fave shows were written by one, maybe two writers (often the creator and their best buddy). So your chances of being hired are higher simply because there are more job openings. But also you’re competing against far more people in the US than if you try to make it in the UK. (Some UK shows - especially those with American money - are experimenting with the staffing system, but it’s still small potatoes in comparison.) In the feature world, it’s American companies that have the money. Look at the production companies working in the UK and the type of content they put out each year and you should be able to spot that. I’m not sure if the BFI is still giving grants for UK films, but the fact that was ever a thing tells you something.

There’s also the issue of content. When I was applying for film school in the UK I was told my work was “too American” - they explicitly told me I needed to write British content. I was applying with the type of stuff you’d see on E4 or BBC3 (before it went online) and that worked against me. I’m the type of person who rolls their eyes every time the BBC advertises their “new gritty dramas” etc. That’s just not me. But stuff on The CW? Yeah. That’s me. That’s what I write. In the US, I have representation. I’ve had meetings at every major studio and so many of the important production companies. I’ve sold work and had work made and I just got another paid writing job (yay!). Does the UK care? No. My work isn’t suitable for the UK market. It’s too expensive and pop culture-y and youth-orientated (apparently - I disagree!!!). But if you’re a writer who enjoys British TV and that’s the type of stuff you want to make then the UK film industry is fine. It’s hard work and expensive to move out here, and you essentially have to kind of start from the beginning again anyway. Speaking to UK writers who established themselves in the UK first, they said coming over to LA they were having to do the whole introductory circuit and obviously nobody knew them so they didn’t have the advantage they did back in the UK.

Visa rules have tightened incredibly over the last few years. I know someone who got an O1 visa during Obama’s tenure because she had a short film that won a couple of the big festivals. Now you’re advised to have sold 3-5 films/TV shows, have several of those 3-5 make it to production and actually be successful, or be hired onto something big like Marvel. Obviously the rules might change (though in the last few months they’ve become even tighter) but if you’re establishing yourself as a writer in the UK you’ve got plenty of time before you need to worry about the US. Additionally, depending on your UK reps, they could get you meetings out here without you needing to set up a base in LA. You’d have to fly out a bunch but I was on a project where the British producer flew out every few month or so for a week and that seemed to work for him.

#anon #caty answers #screenwriting #film industry

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bygosscarmine · 5 years ago

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We Who See Thestrals

a post-canon Harry Potter fic

This is one of my oldest, dearest headcanon ideas finally written out. It came to me right after I read Deathly Hallows, soon after it was published, so it’s been a private thought for a long time. But I thought it might make some good pandemic relaxation reading--it certainly made great pandemic stress-writing.

This series is 10k and finished. Even beta-read! Incredible.

1: Luna Lovegood Gets a Joke-Shop Job

1924 words/10k

"Look," said Ron, "I don't think she'll last here long, either, but with The Quibbler and everything Luna doesn't need money. She just needs something to do. Hermione should be the one asking, but she said she was delegating it to me. So pretend this was a super-persuasive pitch on why an old friend should be given a chance."

George cocked an eyebrow at his brother, more to make him squirm than because he was particularly interested in arguing. Ron was a decent shop clerk and a better trainer, since he liked to get out of doing things but didn't like to see them done wrong. Until their youngest was old enough to go away to school, Ron was the home parent which meant he only could work the slowest hours of the day. George also knew it was good to let his people show some initiative, even if the person was Ron.

They had a lot of young people come and go, since the job wasn't all playing with the products, and George had the bad habit of moving anyone with potential up to R&D (Recreation & Development) or to pop-up sites. Which often turned into managing new stores. Dennis Creevey had been their biggest success so far, though the Hogsmeade location was a no-brainer. Dennis wasn't much of an innovator himself, but he sold all their newest products with the passion of a very small child and the tenacity of a survivor.

They all were survivors, their generation of Hogwarts students. Some of them, like George, had decided that the best thing to create in the world was a time of innocence they couldn't even enter. And that's why so many parents bought so much delightful nonsense from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

"I don't mind having you hire and train her," he said, as if having wrestled with himself, "as long as you make sure she doesn't blow up my shop in vengeance for what you did to her house."

He left Ron sputtering an unformed rebuttal, and went through his vanishing cabinet to the lab.

Luna started the next week. That day George was too busy trying to get the topiary algae to form itself with a longer nose to go down to the shop for niceties. When he heard a whump all the way through the door, through the other vanishing cabinet about five miles away, he decided it was time to check in on the new hire. He carefully finished his notes, told Neville he'd call him back and took out the prototype earplugs he'd made, improving the extendible ears beyond all recognition. They really helped when he needed to trouble-shoot things like recalcitrant botany with friends, so he'd given sets to several of the usual suspects and occasionally owled his spare pairs to others. He took off his slimy gloves and went down to the shop.

There was a glittering purple cloud of smoke pluming into an onion shape in the middle of the floor, with a blast-radius of knocked-over toys about five feet in diameter. Ron had taken cover behind the counter, while a white-blonde head was half-obscured in the cloud. There was no doubting this witch, in purple robes with appliques of cabbages dotted around them, was Luna Lovegood.

"Hallo Looney," said George, "I thought that must be you making a bang. My hearing isn't what it used to be, but I heard it clear in my flat down the road."

"Hello, George," said Luna, unperturbed and sliding out of the cloud sideways, as if it were something she had to sneak away from. "The good news is there are no Snorkaks in your shop. If there were, that is, they'd be dead now."

"Good to know. Ron, stop mentally rehearsing your plea to not be fired and clear up this cloud. A simple scouring should take care of it--not using any dark charms, are you, Luna?"

"I don't think so," she said.

"Yes, Scourgify will be fine. Has Ron given you the tour yet?"

George knew himself to be a bit of a ladies' man, so he was mostly unsurprised to find himself grinning winsomely at Luna.

"I believe he was trying," said Luna. "But I'm not always the best at paying attention."

"I see he wasn't giving you the tour properly, then. You don't have to pay attention, just play with everything you think looks fun. Neverstop Pop?"

"Thank you," said Luna, at last looking apprehensive. She glanced at Ron, who didn't even pause in his vanishing wand-waves to say, "You'll taste banana for about six hours, but otherwise harmless."

"Oh, banana!" she said, and took the lolly. Its purple and green swirl of candy was innocent enough, but the stick it was on began smoking a blue color as soon as her tongue touched it.

"I would have pegged you for pink smoke," George noted. "Intriguing."

He showed her around the shop properly. He had really gotten the knack of sales in the early shop days and now around holidays would work the floor himself to keep his hand in. He kept a keen eye on where her eyes fell, and they tested out all the products that he saw some interest in.

Luna may not have been great at paying attention to workplace tours, but she actually had an unusual knack for toys and games. She had blown enough Self-Shaping Bubble Shot to discover that you could somewhat steer the shape by focusing on one of the forms it took, and produced a steady stream of rabbits that were more robust than any bubbles George had seen anyone but Ginny's girl Lily make. He had to gently steer her away to see the sweets area and puzzles. Most adults had disappointingly short attention spans for play, he had found.

But Luna was an adult. Of all his sister's classmates she was the one who had always struck him as a little more childlike than her age, but possibly this was more a determined positivity and self-expression than thoughtless innocence. After all, none of them had gotten this far untouched. Luna had put the Quibbler on the map as the most outspoken political news of the wizarding world, soliciting articles about the need for reform in the Ministry, magical education, and species equity. She had to be made of a springy sort of steel to have done that. It still ran controversial creature features and terrible celebrity gossip, and the tone of the articles was inflammatory in a way that made George think of Rita Skeeter's flair for drama, but it was read.

"Why are you looking for a job?" he asked, only realizing after a second that this was an abrupt question, coming rather late.

"I am not really suited for teaching or ministry work," she answered, unperturbed. "So I need to look around a bit for what to do with my life. My mum was a charms inventor and my dad started a magazine, but I never was very good at keeping track of details the way you do with either of those professions."

"You did good work writing with the Quibbler--why did you retire?"

"I think I did the Quibbler stuff for my friends," she said, gently brushing one of the Pygmy Puffs. "But once I nudged it in the right direction, I found that there were other people who wanted to do it really badly and I just thought it was all right. I was thinking of going out on some research trips to write some articles."

"Yeah? Anything stopping you?"

"Just that I don't particularly want to. Not by myself, anyway."

He tasted blood, for just a second, heard a shrill sound cut in half.

"I don't blame you," he said, trying to blink back the memory.

The light from the high windows was hitting her silver-blonde hair so it glowed, and he noted a very small patch of magenta cloud still caught in her curls. Her lips pursed over the pygmy puff, a soft pink interruption in her somewhat sharp, white face.

"George, I'm going out for a smoke since you're here," said Ron.

George hadn't realized he was having a moment until he felt an instantaneous desire to strangle his younger brother.

"Fine," he said. "We don't need you, anyway."

"I literally just finished cleaning up after Luna," Ron snorted, and stalked away. "You're both welcome!"

Anyway, George had no business noticing the light on his newest employee's hair. He showed her how they fed the pygmy puffs and cleaned the cage, before retreating into his lab the second Ron seemed to be coming back in.

But later that afternoon when Ron had left he went down to see how Luna was faring training with Rhodendra, a cousin of Lee Jordan's who was fresh from Hogwarts and a whiz with the calcu-labe. He foresaw losing her to Gringotts or a newer financial firm. These were making an appearance in the wizard economy as it flourished after the rebuilding. He had seeded money into one of them himself.

School had let out for the day, and some London-local wizarding children had come through The Leaky Cauldron to hang around and play with some of the toys. Luna apparently was getting on with Rhodendra just fine. The two of them were seated on the floor surrounded by these children, playing a fierce round of Incendiary Snap, which was a brilliant idea Ginny had started by accident. It was particularly brilliant because it didn't just add an extra edge to Exploding Snap, with the very real if child-safe fire, but it also eventually charred the cards to the point where they had to be replaced.

The Snap happened. As Rhodendra shrieked, batting away the illusionary fire, Luna Lovegood summoned a Shield Charm with deceptive ease.

"Did I win that round?" she said, mildly surprised.

"Oh, please," said Rhodendra. "You've won every round. My cards are getting too hot to hold."

"Can we play now?" asked one of the nine or ten-year-olds.

"Sure," said Rhodendra, getting up. Luna followed her example, and they handed the "demo" pack over to the kids. During the school year, their main clientele besides parents were the children too young for Hogwarts, especially the ones with parents who didn’t let them play magical games until they were of age.

Rhodendra noticed George observing and hurried to the counter where she began doing inventory busy-work. Luna instead went to the Muggle tricks display where she seemed to be doing a deep study of the card-tricks brochure. He went back up to his lab, satisfied no personality clashes were forming.

He didn't go down into the shop later than noon for the rest of the week. Instead, if he finished work early he went to the pub to make some winning bets on the qualification rounds of the Quidditch World Cup, as everyone listened on the radio. (Occasionally he dreamed of bringing a wizarding form of television to Quidditch fans, but abandoned it. Someone would do it eventually but he preferred to live a little longer in the charmingly medieval world of wizarding technology a little longer.)

He had all but forgotten his new hire when Ron came bursting in from the cabinet.

"George, you have to come see this. I think we should keep Luna on after all!"

George was intrigued, though a bit puzzled. He hadn't realized Luna's status was probationary, though this was very Ron of Ron. Ron had hired himself on probation.

Go to Chapter 2

Graphic’s George image from the @renissance moodboard I posted https://seagod.co.vu/post/168723892062/

#We Who See Thestrals #Luna Lovegood x George Weasley #Harry Potter #fanfiction #Luna Lovegood #George Weasley #Ron Weasley #weasleys wizard wheezes

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jaydcstories · 5 years ago

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Read this and other stories on my blog: JOHN DEE COOPER'S ALL-MALE SLAVERY STORIES

Chapter 9

‘PEPE’S STORY’

Pepe told us he was a shy child — which was hard to imagine what with that body and those enormous muscles, not to mention his gigantic cock which kept twitching as he spoke. If his hands had been free he’d probably have stroked it till it was rock hard (we were having to get used to this matter-of-fact attitude to being naked).

Anyway, he got bullied at school. He didn’t know why. Maybe because his father was rich. But so were all the kids’ fathers. It was a top grade exclusive boarding school and he hated it. He don’t know what it was, there was just something about him that didn’t fit in. Sometimes, looking back, he wondered if it was meant that he should be a slave right from the start and that the other boys sensed it while he didn’t. Because in all other respects he was a model student. He did well in his exams and won trophies for gym and athletics. He enjoyed running almost more than anything else, being out on the track, speeding ahead of all the other kids. He loved that. But he just felt different, that was all.

Then one day, when he was fourteen, he was called to the headmaster’s office and told that his father’s business had gone bankrupt. Next he got a visit from his uncle — a distant relative whom he’d never met before — who told him that his father had done away with himself. Jumped off a building, apparently, although it was never proved. Then his mother had a mental breakdown. She was carted off to an asylum. He had no-one else to take care of him but this uncle.

The uncle didn’t want to go on paying the school fees, so that was the end of Pepe’s education. He never liked boy, mainly because he’d been landed with the father’s debts. He treated him like a servant — worse even. Then, when some of Pepe’s friends got into trouble with the police, he jumped at the chance of having the boy sent off to a labour camp for two years, even though it was clear Pepe himself hadn’t done anything wrong.

At first he was just a kid running messages. Then, when the camp officers realised what a good athlete he was they started training him up. He worked hard and very soon they were putting him in for regional and national competitions and he started to win prizes. He was a good looking teenager and attracted a lot of attention — not always from the best quarters — which at least kept him away from the drudgery of the work gangs.

Although Pepe didn’t realise it, his uncle was secretly grooming him all this while, watching and waiting until he was in prime condition. Then, on the boy’s sixteenth birthday a van turned up and he was bundled aboard — just as we had all been — and taken to a slave farm, where he was stripped naked, branded and had his balls cinched in a steel band.

Apparently when his uncle had sold him to the slave farm he’d kept a percentage interest in the boy, so that he could keep earning money off him. As well as racing, they taught Pepe to box, so he had to fight as well as run. Bare knuckles of course, although sometimes they’d wrap his hands round with bandaging to stop the bleeding. He’d regularly get the stuffing knocked out of him two or three times a week, just so his owners, including his uncle, could make some money. He was a slave, so of course he had no choice and when he lost a fight or a race, he’d get a beating. That was his only incentive — to try and get through the week without being hauled up onto a scaffold to be whipped.

He was on the slave farm for three years, and it was the making of him. He learned to accept pain as his salvation. It became as familiar to him as breathing. He absorbed it and used it to make himself tougher and more efficient. He was proud of his body and his powerful limbs and he learned how to discipline his mind to focus on one thing — becoming the perfect slave.

The slaves would train all day long in the open air, everyday, whatever the weather. You don’t get days off when you’re a slave. Twenty-four-seven you’re either working, resting, feeding or being punished. For Pepe training seemed to consist mostly of running for hours on end, up and down steep slopes, carrying bags of sand on your shoulders or dragging crates full of rocks. Then for a break there’d be squats and press-ups and pull-ups and weight-lifting. It was exhilarating at times, and other times it could be mind numbing. On top of that, as boxing was on the menu for him, he’d spend hours punching bags and getting punched by sparring partners. At night, back in his stall, he was always wracked with pain, and was usually smarting from a beating for being too lazy.

There were twenty boys sleeping five to a stall in a shed in the middle of the corral. It had straw on the floor, but no sheets or blankets and as they had no clothing the only way to keep warm was to curl up together in a tight bunch like puppies. Usually they were too tired to do anything but sleep. But sometimes, after the keepers had locked them in for the night, they’d get restless and those aching muscles would rub against each other and they’d start rolling around and... well... you know!

At this point of his story, Pepe went quiet. He sat for a moment, breathing deeply with his eyes closed. His cock was jutting up as straight as an arrow and we watched in amazement as it began to swell and jerk all on its own, just as if an invisible hand had taken hold of it and was slowly caressing it.

“Sorry boys,” he said, opening his eyes and pulling himself out of his reverie. “It all came flooding back to me for a second there. I miss those slave boys. We had some beautiful times. The farm was horrid and the keepers were nasty, sadistic monsters, but we slaves were like a family and I felt I belonged among them. You should treasure moments like that. They don’t last long.”

He told us how on his nineteenth birthday, or thereabouts (“after a while you lose track of dates and it’s difficult working out exactly how old you are”) his uncle decided to sell his interest in him and he was packed off to the slave market.

“Your first auction — that’s something you can never be prepared for. I’d already been a slave for three years, but that was as part of a litter. I was used to being naked in front of people at fights and races, but I always knew that I would be going back to the farm afterwards and be amongst my friends. When they send you to the auction you’re on your own and you have no idea what the future is going to bring you.

“They put you on public display for about a week before the auction, and there’s an endless stream of buyers coming to have a feel and a poke. You have to stand there and look straight ahead while they crawl all over your body, slapping and stroking. You like to think there’s someone out there who’s going to buy you just because he likes you and wants to be kind to you. But all they’re really interested in is how useful you can be to them and what sort of price you’re going to fetch when they sell you again. Over and over again, they examine your teeth and inspect your eyes, some of them even poke around in your ears. They feel the strength in your arms and legs, and look at your feet. Sometimes they test your abs by giving you a punch in the stomach. They squeeze your balls to see if you’ll make a good breeder, and they’ll even jerk you off just to see how good you look with all your muscles in motion. In fact so many of them play with your cock without letting you cum, that by the end of the day your head’s spinning and your balls are aching with juice. But there is nothing you can do about it. You just have to stand there and take it.

“There was this one fellow who got all excited about my powerful legs and thighs. He’d read the notes about me being an athlete and wanted to see me in action, so they took me outside and I had to run round the perimeter of the courtyard while he watched. He was obviously impressed because on the day of the auction he outbid everyone else. It turns out he runs a pony stable and he’s going to train me as a pony.”

Pepe could see that we were puzzled.

“Haven’t you ever heard of a pony-slave?”

We shook our heads. We were still reeling from his description of what it was like to be auctioned. The concept of slaves being used as ponies was way beyond us.

“Boy, you don’t know much, do you? Well it’s just one of the most intense kinds of discipline a slave can be put through. For a start it’s very lonely on account of the fact that you can’t talk. They pull out your back teeth — look,” he opened his mouth so we could see for ourselves, “and they fit you with a metal plate that holds your tongue down. Then they strap a leather bridle round your head with a metal bit that fits in the gap where your back teeth were,” he stopped to show us the scars on his cheek where the metal bit had pulled against his skin, “and leather blinkers that can be closed so that you can’t see anything, or hinged open so that you can only see straight ahead. That bridle is on there for good. It never comes off — at least not as long as you’re a pony — so your vision is permanently restricted. You have leather straps on your wrists all the time as well so that they’re always ready to be hitched to the shafts of a carriage, or locked behind your back, or shackled to the ceiling — whatever they want.

“Next thing, you’re never allowed to sit down or lie down or even kneel. Ever! They keep you on your feet the whole time. Even when you’re sleeping. They shackle your wrists to the sides of the stall and there’s a kind of leather padded bar you can lean your head and chest against. You’re fed standing up, and you even have to shit standing up — though they train you to do it cleanly over a sand pit, and you get hosed down afterwards. Basically, everything about your life is fixed to one purpose and one purpose only, running and pulling carriages. You could be harnessed solo or in a team, and you could be pulling anything from a heavy goods wagon to a light weight racing cart. Sometimes, depending on the job you have to do, they might fit you with some kind of covering for your feet — you can’t really call them shoes. But mostly they like to build up your resistance so you can run on any surface in bare feet.

“If you’re kept for private use, like I was, then generally you’re always naked. Usually your owner takes pride in how you look, so he makes sure you work out properly and have a nice trim, muscular body that people can admire as he drives you around in harness. You get used to people coming up to you in the street and stroking your body while you stand waiting for you Master. They even grab hold of your cock and try to jerk you off. You’re trained to respond positively and show yourself off to the best advantage — as a compliment to your Master — but never to shoot off your cum unless your Master orders it. “And then of course there’s the racing. My owner used to race me regularly and I won a lot of money for him. He entered me for pony shows as well, that’s kind of like a dog show but just for pony-slaves. They judge you on your fitness, looks, physical condition and movement, as well as speed and endurance. There’s an awful lot of standing around and being manhandled at those things. I prefer the races.

“So anyway, there was a few years of that and then I was sold to an owner who just wanted me to pull his private carriage around town. He ran some kind of hiring service with a team of ponies he kept in his stables, but I was there just for his own personal use. He never touched the other ponies, as far as I know, but he often came into my stall at night while I was tethered up and he’d play around with me. Remember, my wrists are hitched to the sides of the stall, I’m leaning my head against the leather padding, my bridle is in place, with the flaps closed so I can’t see and the metal plate is pressing down on my tongue so I can’t speak. I hear him creep in behind and then I feel his hands trailing up my thighs and reaching round to my stomach. His cock jabs into me and for a while he’s riding deep inside me. Sometimes he lets me share in the pleasure of the moment by jerking me off, but mostly he strokes me hard but leaves me aching to cum when he’s finished.”

Pepe’s eyes closed again for a moment and I suppose he was drifting off into another revery. I looked around and could see that his story was having the same effect on Luis and Tomas as it was having on me. Our cocks were all rock hard and pulsating — and we had no hands free to nestle or hide them.

“There’s not much more to tell,” he said after a while. “I was eventually sold to the man who owned Leon over there. He was more interested in slave investment than ownership, so I stopped being a pony. How weird that was having the bridal taken off after, what, four, five years! Took me a while to get my voice back and my full range of vision. Even sitting and lying down was a problem. But I was determined to stay fit and he soon had me running. He made a lot of money out of racing me and even got me into fighting again. Then suddenly he went bankrupt and he had to sell off all his stock to pay his debts. So they paired me off with Leon and we’re going to be put up for auction in England.”

Having got to the end of his story he fell silent. We were all spellbound — except of course Leon who’d contributed a few grunts but otherwise had sat there and said nothing the whole time. It’s only when we bombarded him with questions that he began to mutter under his breath. He was difficult to hear, let alone understand, but it soon became obvious that Spanish wasn’t his first tongue. Pepe had to keep helping him out.

Leon’s was a very different story, which we pieced together mainly from the answers he gave to our persistent questioning.

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julietteswiftie · 6 years ago

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HEY T! Where do I start? Well first, my really poetic self is thanking you for the most 7 years of my life. Being in this fandom has brought me tears, of joy and sadness, so many friends that I got to meet at the show and so much more. Let’s go back in time, in summer 2011 I believe. I was in my cousin’s living room, back in Quebec, Canada, and my older cousin played You belong with me and as you may can tell, I fell in love with this 20 years old girl’s music. It was around this time that you came to Montreal for the Speak Now World Tour for the first time. At this point, I knew that I would follow you as I grow up for many years. Fast forward to 2012. Then, I changed school in 4th grade. I met these 2 girls, also fan of yours: Laurence and Maé. Actually, they became my two closest friends and they still are after 6 years. They also are the one who were willing to travel 8 hours to see you in Toronto. Anyways, I was quite shy at that time and didnt knew if they were nice or not. But Laurence quickly brought me into her group of friends wich another fan of yours was a part of: Marianne. She taught me A LOT about you ( Loft 89, the whole early 1989 era, etc). So, Laurence quickly convinced me to do the school talent show to perform one of your songs. In the middle of the Red Era, we hesitated between We are never ever getting back togheter or I knew you were trouble. She choosed WANEGBT because of the IKYWT goat meme HAHA. So for the next months following our inscriptions, I dreamed about seeing you on the Red Tour. But sadly, you didnt came to Montreal. But then the big day came and we performed in striped shirts, with sunglasses on and Keds, well, the whole Red look basically. We had this choreography the makeup the whole thing. We were four on stage: Laurence, Marianne, Rebecca and my 9 year old self. In between 4th and 6th, it was peaceful while listening to your music. Then, I stepped into 1989 era as one in the fandom. Shake it off came out and I LOVED IT. I couldnt wait for the whole album. Then, i started cheerleading and it was quite hard to keep up with everything going on. July 6th 2015, you came to Montreal for the 1989 World Tour. My two friends, Laurence and Marianne went but I couldnt due to the arena being sold outtoo fast. I was so sad and waited until the very early morning to see the pictures of the show on the news. A year later, I started highschool, wich means 7th grade for us haha. I was really naive and this is the moment I really related to every single song of yours due to break ups, feud with friends, all kind of problems an almost 13 year old has navigating into the teen world. One of them was The Story Of Us wich really represented this relationship I had that broke my heart for nothing. At the end of that year, wich troughout I made impressions of you during drama class, would be compared to you in everyday life, I started guitar lessons and songwriting. Oh and not to mention that July 7th 2016, I cut my hair like you. 8th grade was quite hard for me. My grades werent has good as I expected them to be, my relationship with this same guy kept getting complicated. On april 29th, I had my first drama show. I was playing this kinda jet set woman having an affair. When i was backstage, My stare came across the guy i loved staring at me. I turned my head to hide my tears floading my eyes and came back to the stage light, thanking the audience. A couple days later, may 3rd i believe. I was admitted to the hospital for wrist surgeries. I remember listening to your music before and after it. It juste made the pain go away. Then, i was at the point of my scolarity that you guys call Freshman year. Except that we dont change schools. So this year, it was pretty great but i had quite a lot of lows. During that summer, i madd a lot of internet friends and we talked about the trial and everything. I remember the last day, i opened Instagram and I saw this post that made me burst into tears: TAYLOR SWIFT HAS WON HER 1$ TRIAL AGAISNT ASSAULTER. Weeks later, your profiles are slowly deleting everything on them. Oh didnt i told you that i also bursted into tears into the Ikea parking when I saw this video of a snake tail on your empty profile. For the following weeks, rep announcement, look what you made me do release, i was LIVING FOR IT. Then this trailer that said ...ready for it on it during the football game came out and i was likeoh man this must be a NEW SINGLE kznddkxj. I was right wow. On october 28th, I injured my elbow during circus class and was rushed to two different hospitals. The next day, my life changed. I was in stuck in bed and decided to listen to stranger things for the first time. I soon realized that I trully wanted to become an actress AND a singer. For the next months, i tried my hardest to find a way to audition for the show but I didnt. I still do remember the cold feeling of my tears stained cheeks at night. Oh wait that could be a good lyric haha. But this woman, my idol, once said that you should never give up on the things you love. Oh and thats you if you didnt know. On November 10th 2017, this masterpiece came out and i died of love for this album. I remember being in my bed, at like 3 in the morning, hearing the last song off this record and bursting into tears. New years day was so undescribable. So in december, i bought tickets for the Reputation stadium tour with my two best friends Maé and Laurence for Toronto night two on August 4th 2018. Crazy that when I write this, its already July 31th. I will always remember chosing these seats 9-10-11 row 12 section 130 AR, close to the b stage. We planned this whole trip, did our costumes, everything to make this a lifetime experience. Our costumes are Heart Robbers. So basically we are stealing your broken hearts from past relationships off the hands of your ex lovers so you can be loved brand new by Joe. And lets be real, you guys are the cutest. Anyways, During the whole year, i developped my singing and acting skills a lot so i could realize my dreams and goals. I dont know if I will ever meet you saying from today. But i know some of my friends did and i couldnt be more thankful for it. You know Jessica Johnson right? She was invited to the Nashville SS and a couple of weeks earlier, I made this edit of her and you and she was crying looking at it then it became reality. The same for my friend Asya, you met her at pre show m&g this tour and i screenshotted the dm of me saying « this is the era you meet taylor ». It became real. I never got noticed but i once was on the same livestream as you before the delicate premiere and somehow it was amazing. I couldnt thank you enough for everything you know. For Clean being this song that I relate to the most, For Call it what you want, new years day and dancing with our hands tied ( sounds a lot like the 80s synth vibe and the stranger things theme) to being my faves and for just you being you, this dorky adorable cat lover baking queen who cares sooooo much about us while being this powerfull amazing slaying wig stealer women that will forever be my idol. I will love you forever and always. -Juliette xox

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blackkudos · 6 years ago

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Satchel Paige

Leroy Robert (Satchel) Paige (July 7, 1906 – June 8, 1982) was an American Negro league baseball and Major League Baseball (MLB) pitcher who became a legend in his own lifetime by being known as perhaps the best pitcher in baseball history, by his longevity in the game, and by attracting record crowds wherever he pitched.

Paige was a right-handed pitcher, and at age 42 in 1948, he was the oldest major league rookie while playing for the Cleveland Indians. He played with the St. Louis Browns until age 47, and represented them in the All-Star Game in 1952 and 1953. He was the first player who had played in the Negro leagues to pitch in the World Series, in 1948, and was the first electee of the Committee on Negro Baseball Leagues to be inducted in the National Baseball Hall of Fame, in 1971.

Paige first played for the semi-professional Mobile Tigers from 1924 to 1926. He began his professional baseball career in 1926 with the Chattanooga Black Lookouts of the Negro Southern League and became one of the most famous and successful players from the Negro leagues. While his outstanding control as a pitcher first got him noticed, it was his infectious, cocky, enthusiastic personality and his love for the game that made him a star. On town tours across the United States, Paige would sometimes have his infielders sit down behind him and then routinely strike out the side. He played his last professional game on June 21, 1966, for the Peninsula Grays of the Carolina League.

Date of birth

While Satchel Paige was playing baseball, many ages and birthdates were reported, ranging from 1900 to 1908. Paige himself was the source of many of these dates. His actual birthdate, July 7, 1906, was determined in 1948 when Cleveland Indians owner Bill Veeck traveled to Mobile, Alabama and accompanied Paige's family to the County Health Department to obtain his birth certificate. Paige's birth certificate is displayed in his autobiography.

In 1959, Paige's mother told a reporter that he was 55 rather than 53, saying she knew this because she wrote it down in her Bible. Paige wrote in his autobiography, "Seems like Mom's Bible would know, but she ain't ever shown me the Bible. Anyway, she was in her nineties when she told the reporter that, and sometimes she tended to forget things."

Early life

Satchel was born Leroy Robert Page to John Page, a gardener, and Lula Page (née Coleman), a domestic worker, in a section of Mobile, Alabama known as Down the Bay. Lula and her children changed the spelling of their name from Page to Paige in the mid-1920s, just before the start of Satchel's baseball career. Lula said, "Page looked too much like a page in a book", whereas Satchel explained, "My folks started out by spelling their name 'Page' and later stuck in the 'i' to make themselves sound more high-tone." The introduction of the new spelling coincided with the death of Satchel's father, and may have suggested a desire for a new start.

According to Paige, his nickname originated from childhood work toting bags at the train station. He said he was not making enough money at a dime a bag, so he used a pole and rope to build a contraption that allowed him to cart up to four bags at once. Another kid supposedly yelled, "You look like a walking satchel tree." A different story was told by boyhood friend and neighbor, Wilber Hines, who said he gave Paige the nickname after he was caught trying to steal a bag. At the age of ten, Satchel was playing "top ball" which was what got him into baseball. "Top ball" was a kids' game that used sticks and bottle caps instead of baseballs and bats to play a variation of the diamond sport. Satchel's mother, Lula, would even comment on how Satchel would rather "play baseball than eat. It was always baseball, baseball."

Two weeks before his thirteenth birthday, Paige was arrested for shoplifting. Because this incident followed several earlier incidents of theft and truancy, he was committed to the Industrial School for Negro Children in Mount Meigs, Alabama, the state reform school, until the age of eighteen. During the more than five years he spent at the school, he developed his pitching skills under the guidance of Edward Byrd. Byrd taught Paige to kick his front foot high and to swing his arm around so it looked like his hand was in the batter's face when he released the ball. Paige was released from the reform school in December 1923, six months early.

After his release, Paige played for several Mobile semi-pro teams. He joined the semi-pro Mobile Tigers where his brother Wilson was already pitching. He also pitched for a semi-pro team named the Down the Bay Boys, and he recalled that he once got into a jam in the ninth inning of a 1–0 ballgame when his teammates made three consecutive errors, loading the bases for the other team with two outs. Angry, Paige said he stomped around the mound, kicking up dirt. The fans started booing him, so he decided that "somebody was going to have to be showed up for that." He called in his outfielders and had them sit down in the infield. With the fans and his own teammates howling, Paige struck out the final batter, winning the game.

Negro leagues

Chattanooga and Birmingham: 1926–29

A former friend from the Mobile slums, Alex Herman, was the player/manager for the Chattanooga White Sox of the minor Negro Southern League. In 1926 he discovered Paige and offered to pay him $250 per month, of which Paige would collect $50 with the rest going to his mother. He also agreed to pay Lula Paige a $200 advance, and she agreed to the contract.

The local newspapers—the Chattanooga News and Chattanooga Times—recognized from the beginning that Paige was special. In April 1926, shortly after his arrival, he recorded nine strikeouts over six innings against the Atlanta Black Crackers. Part way through the 1927 season, Paige's contract was sold to the Birmingham Black Barons of the major Negro National League (NNL). According to Paige's first memoir, his contract was for $450 per month, but in his second he said it was for $275.

Pitching for the Black Barons, Paige threw hard but was wild and awkward. In his first big game in late June 1927, against the St. Louis Stars, Paige incited a brawl when his fastball hit the hand of St. Louis catcher Mitchell Murray. Murray then charged the mound and Paige raced for the dugout, but Murray flung his bat and struck Paige above the hip. The police were summoned, and the headline of the Birmingham Reporter proclaimed a "Near Riot." Paige improved and matured as a pitcher with help from his teammates, Sam Streeter and Harry Salmon, and his manager, Bill Gatewood. He finished the 1927 season 7–1 with 69 strikeouts and 26 walks in 89 1⁄3innings.

Over the next two seasons, Paige went 12–5 and 10–9 while recording 176 strikeouts in 1929. (Several sources credit his 1929 strikeout total as the all-time single-season record for the Negro leagues, though there is variation among the sources about the exact number of strikeouts.) On April 29 of that season he recorded 17 strikeouts in a game against the Cuban Stars, which exceeded what was then the major league record of 16 held by Noodles Hahn and Rube Waddell. Six days later he struck out 18 Nashville Elite Giants, a number that was tied in the white majors by Bob Feller in 1938. Due to his increased earning potential, Barons owner R. T. Jackson would "rent" Paige out to other ball clubs for a game or two to draw a decent crowd, with both Jackson and Paige taking a cut.

Cuba, Baltimore, and Cleveland: 1929–31

Abel Linares offered Paige $100 per game to play winter ball for the Santa Clara team in the Cuban League. Gambling on baseball games in Cuba was such a huge pastime that players were not allowed to drink alcohol, so they could stay ready to play. Paige—homesick for carousing, hating the food, despising the constant inspections and being thoroughly baffled by the language—went 6–5 in Cuba. He left Cuba abruptly before the end of the season, with several stories told about the circumstances. Paige told one version in which the mayor of a small hamlet asked him, in Spanish, if he had intentionally lost a particular game. Paige, not understanding a word the man said, nodded and smiled, thinking the man was fawning over him, and then had to flee from the furious mayor. Another version, also told by Paige, says that when he called on an attractive local girl at her home, she and her family interpreted his attentions as an official engagement and sent the police to enforce it, leading Paige to flee the island with police in pursuit. A third version, told by the general manager of the Santa Clara Leopards, says that he left Cuba in haste after legal charges were brought against him regarding an amorous incident with "a young lady from the provincial mulatto bourgeoisie."

When Paige returned to the United States, he and Jackson revived their practice of renting him out to various teams. In the spring of 1930, Jackson leased him to the Baltimore Black Sox, who had won the 1929 American Negro League championship led by their bowlegged third baseman Jud "Boojum" Wilson. Paige, as a Southerner, found that he was an outsider on the Black Sox, and his teammates considered him a hick. Moreover, he was the team's number two pitcher behind Lamon Yokely, and Paige did not like being overshadowed.

In mid-summer Paige returned to Birmingham, where he pitched well the rest of the summer, going 7–4. In September he was leased to the Chicago American Giants of the NNL for a home-and-home series with the Houston Black Buffaloes of the Texas–Oklahoma League. Paige won one and lost one in the series and then returned to Birmingham.

By the spring of 1931, the Depression was taking its toll on the Negro leagues, and the Black Barons had temporarily disbanded. Few teams could afford Paige, but Tom Wilson, who was moving the Nashville Elite Giants to Cleveland as the Cleveland Cubs, thought he could. Playing in the same city as a white major league team, Paige recalled, "I'd look over at the Cleveland Indians' stadium, called League Park ... All season long it burned me, playing there in the shadow of that stadium. It didn't hurt my pitching, but it sure didn't do me any good."

Pittsburgh, California, and North Dakota: 1931–36

In June 1931, the Crawford Colored Giants, an independent club owned by Pittsburgh underworld figure Gus Greenlee, made Paige an offer of $250 a month. On August 6, Paige made his Crawford debut against their hometown rivals, the Homestead Grays. Entering the game in the fourth inning, Paige held the Grays scoreless and had six strikeouts and no walks in five innings of relief work to get the win.

In September, Paige joined a Negro all-star team organized by Tom Wilson, called the Philadelphia Giants, to play in the California Winter League. This was the first of nine winters that he played in a league that provided ongoing competition between elite black and white baseball players, including major and minor league players. On October 24 Paige won his first California game 8–1, allowing five hits and striking out 11, including Babe Herman four times. He finished the winter with a 6–0 record and 70 strikeouts in 58 innings.

In 1932, Greenlee signed Josh Gibson, Oscar Charleston and Ted "Double Duty" Radcliffe away from Cumberland Posey's Homestead Grays to assemble one of the finest baseball clubs in history. Paige took the mound when the Crawfords opened the season on April 30 in their newly built stadium, Greenlee Field, the first completely black-owned stadium in the country. Paige lost the opener to the New York Black Yankees in a pitching duel with Jesse "Mountain" Hubbard, but got even with them by beating them twice that season, including Paige's first Negro league no-hitter in July. Paige went 10–4, allowing 3.19 runs per game and striking out 92 in 132 2⁄3 innings.

In the midst of the Depression, Cum Posey's new East–West League had collapsed by mid-season, and Greenlee was able to obtain many of the best players in black baseball. By the end of the season, Greenlee had signed to contracts Cool Papa Bell, John Henry Russell, Leroy Matlock, Jake Stephens, "Boojum" Wilson, Jimmie Crutchfield, Ted Page, Judy Johnson, and Rap Dixon. With the Crawfords playing five future Hall of Famers, many Negro league historians regard the 1930s Crawfords as the greatest team in Negro league history.

The next season Greenlee organized a new Negro National League, which survived for 16 years. Despite Greenlee's efforts to control his biggest star, Paige followed his own schedule and was often late to games that he was scheduled to pitch. In August, he jumped the Crawfords, accepting an offer from Neil Churchill's North Dakota semi-pro team, the Bismarcks (sometimes known as the "Bismarck Churchills" today), of $400 and a late model car for just one month's work. It was Paige's first experience playing with an integrated team in the United States. He helped Bismarck beat their local rivals in Jamestown, who were also featuring a Negro league ace pitcher, Barney Brown. Paige was unapologetic when he returned to Pittsburgh in September to help the Crawfords win the second-half championship. Paige was snubbed by other Negro league players and fans when he was not selected for the first ever East–West All-Star Game.

1934 was perhaps the best season of Paige's career, as he went 14–2 in league games while allowing 2.16 runs per game, recording 144 strikeouts, and giving up only 26 walks. On July 4, Paige threw his second no-hitter, this time against the Homestead Grays. He struck out 17, and only a first inning walk to future Hall of Famer Buck Leonard and an error in the fourth inning prevented it from being a perfect game. Leonard, unnerved by the rising swoop of the ball, repeatedly asked the umpire to check the ball for scuffing. When the umpire removed one ball from play, Paige hollered, "You may as well thrown 'em all out 'cause they're all gonna jump like that."

The Denver Post conducted an annual baseball tournament (sometimes known as the "Little World Series") that attracted semi-pro and independent professional teams from across the country. In 1934 it was open, for the first time, to black players. Greenlee leased Paige to the Colored House of David, a prominent barnstorming team of white men who represented a religious commune and wore beards. Their manager was Hall of Fame pitcher Grover Cleveland Alexander. Paige pitched shutouts in his first two starts, striking out 14 and 18. The final, championship game was his third start in five days and he faced the Kansas City Monarchs—at the time an independent, barnstorming team—who were participating in the tournament with a lineup augmented by Negro league stars Turkey Stearnes and Sam Bankhead. Paige faced Chet Brewer before a crowd of 11,120. Paige won the pitchers' duel 2–1, striking out 12 Monarchs for a tournament total of 44 strikeouts in 28 innings. The 1934 tournament was Paige's first major exposure in front of the white press.

Paige received his first East–West All Star Game selection in 1934. Playing for the East, Paige came in during the sixth inning with a man on second and the score tied 0–0, and proceeded to strike out Alec Radcliffe and retire Turkey Stearnes and Mule Suttles on soft fly balls. The East scored one run in the top of the eighth and Paige held the West scoreless the rest of the way, giving him his first All-Star Game victory. 27 years after winning the second-ever East-West All-Star Game, Paige was also the winning pitcher of the 1961 East-West Game, the next to last in the series.

Despite an outstanding season, Paige had a strong competitor for best Negro league pitcher of 1934, the 21-year-old Slim Jones of the Philadelphia Stars, who went 22–3 in league games. In September, a four-team charity benefit doubleheader was played at Yankee Stadium, with the second game featuring a faceoff between Paige and Jones. Paige recalled driving all night from Pittsburgh and parking near the stadium, then falling asleep in the car. A batboy found and woke him, and he got into uniform just in time for his scheduled start. In a game that was sometimes described as the greatest game in Negro league history, Paige and Jones battled to a 1–1 tie that was called because of darkness. A rematch was scheduled, and this time Paige and the Crawfords beat Jones and the Stars 3–1.

That fall, Paige faced off against major league star Dizzy Dean, who that season had won 30 regular season games plus two more in the World Series, in several exhibition games. In Cleveland, Paige struck out 13 while beating Dean 4–1, although for that game Dean was playing with a minor league team. Later, while playing in the California Winter League, Paige faced Dean in front of 18,000 fans in Los Angeles, with Dean's team including major league stars like Wally Berger. The two teams battled for thirteen innings, with Paige's team finally winning 1–0. Bill Veeck, future owner of the Cleveland Indians, St. Louis Browns, and Chicago White Sox, was watching the game and many years later described it as "the greatest pitchers' battle I have ever seen." Paige and Dean would continue to barnstorm against each other until 1945. Later, when Dean was a sports columnist for the Chicago Tribune, he called Paige "the pitcher with the greatest stuff I ever saw."

In the spring of 1935, Greenlee refused Paige's request to raise his $250 per month salary, so Paige decided to return to Bismarck for the same $400 per month and late model used car that he got before. Churchill added other Negro league players to the team—pitchers Barney Morris, and Hilton Smith, catcher Quincy Trouppe, and pitcher/catcher Double Duty Radcliffe. Paige dominated the competition, with a 29–2 record, 321 strikeouts, and only 16 walks. In Wichita, Ray "Hap" Dumont was establishing a new national baseball tournament, the National Baseball Congress. Dumont invited 32 semi-pro teams, paying $1,000 for Paige and his Bismarck teammates to attend. The tournament was held at Lawrence–Dumont Stadium in Wichita, Kansas and offered a $7,000 purse. Churchill added yet another Negro league star to his team—Chet Brewer, the Kansas City Monarchs' ace pitcher. Bismarck swept the tournament in seven straight games. Paige won the four games he started, pitched in relief in a fifth game, and struck out 60 batters—a record that still held 74 years later.

In September, Paige could not return to the NNL because he was banned from the league for the 1935 season for jumping to the Bismarck team. J. L. Wilkinson, owner of the independent Kansas City Monarchs, signed Paige on a game-by-game basis through the end of the season.

That winter, a northern California promoter, Johnny Burton, hired Paige to front a team called the "Satchel Paige All-Stars", in a game to be held on February 7, 1936 in Oakland against a white all-star squad. The opposing team included a number of major league players out of the Bay Area, including Ernie Lombardi, Augie Galan, Cookie Lavagetto, and Gus Suhr, as well as Pacific Coast League star Joe DiMaggio, who was making his last stop as a minor leaguer before joining the New York Yankees. Other than Negro league catcher, Ebel Brooks, Paige's team was composed of local semi-pro players. Despite the imbalance in talent, Paige kept the game to a 1–1 tie through nine innings, striking out 12 and giving up one run on three hits. In the bottom of the tenth inning, he struck out two more, then gave up a single to Dick Bartell, bringing up DiMaggio. Bartell stole second on the first pitch, then went to third on a wild pitch. DiMaggio then hit a hard hopper to the mound that Paige deflected; DiMaggio beat the second baseman's throw to drive in the winning run. A Yankee scout watching the game wired the club that day a report that read, "DiMaggio everything we'd hoped he'd be: Hit Satch one for four." DiMaggio later said that Paige was the best pitcher he had ever faced.

In 1936, Paige returned to Pittsburgh where Greenlee acquiesced to Paige's salary demands and gave him a $600-per-month contract, by far the highest in the Negro leagues. In games for which complete box scores are available, Paige went 5–0, allowed 3.21 runs per game, and struck out 47 in 47 2⁄3 innings. At the end of the season, Tom Wilson arranged with the other NNL owners to assemble an all-star team that would enter the lucrative Denver Post tournament. The team included Paige, Josh Gibson, Cool Papa Bell, Leroy Matlock, Buck Leonard, Felton Snow, Bill Wright and Sammy Hughes. They swept the tournament in seven games to win the $5,000 prize, with Paige winning three of them. In the title game against an overmatched semi-pro team from Borger, Texas, Paige pitched a 7–0 shutout, striking out 18. The Negro league all-stars then barnstormed, playing a series against a team of major leaguers led by Rogers Hornsby. One match-up featured Paige facing the 17-year-old Bob Feller, who had just finished a half-season with the Cleveland Indians. Each pitched three innings and gave up one hit, with Feller striking out eight and Paige seven. Later in the game, the Negro league team pulled out a win.

Dominican Republic: 1937

In the spring of 1937 the Crawfords were training in New Orleans, and Paige was approached by Dr. José Enrique Aybar, dean of the University of Santo Domingo, deputy of the Dominican Republic's national congress and director of Los Dragones, a baseball team operated by Rafael Trujillo, dictator of the Dominican Republic. Aybar hired Paige to act as an agent for Trujillo in recruiting other Negro league players to play for Los Dragones. Aybar gave Paige $30,000 to hire as many players as he could. Paige recruited five of his Crawfords teammates—Cool Papa Bell, Leroy Matlock, Sam Bankhead, Harry Williams and Herman Andrews—as well as Josh Gibson, who had recently been traded to the Homestead Grays. Other Dominican teams were also recruiting Negro league players. Greenlee and his fellow owners banned Paige and the other jumpers from the organized Negro leagues, but failed to dissuade the players.

In the Dominican Republic, the American players were shadowed by armed guards. Although the purpose of the guards was to protect the players, the players were fearful that Trujillo would unleash them in anger if his team lost the championship. The season ended with an eight-game series between the two top teams, Paige's Dragones of "Ciudad Trujillo" (as Trujillo had renamed the capital city of Santo Domingo) and the Águilas Cibaeñas of Santiago. The Dragones won the first four, with Paige contributing two of them. The Águilas came back to win the next two and still had a chance to win the championship if they won the final two games. In Paige's memoirs, he recalled finishing the game with two shutout innings to hold onto a 6–5 win while soldiers looked on "like a firing squad." In reality, however, Paige did not enter the game until there was one out in the ninth inning, with his team leading 8–3. He proceeded to give up three runs on three hits before he got the third out on a great throw by Bankhead. Paige had an excellent season overall, however, leading the league with an 8–2 record.

Paige and the other players returning from the Dominican Republic faced a Negro league ban for jumping their teams. In response, they formed a barnstorming team called "Trujillo's All-Stars", which was later known as the "Satchel Paige All-Stars." Wilkinson evaded the ban by having promoter Ray Dean schedule games between the All-Stars and the House of David. In August, the All-Stars won the Denver Post tournament. In late September, Paige faced a team of Negro league all-stars at the Polo Grounds. Despite striking out eight and allowing only two runs, he lost when the opposing pitcher, Johnny "Schoolboy" Taylor, tossed a no-hitter. A week later a rematch was held at Yankee Stadium, and this time Paige beat Taylor handily.

Mexico: 1938

In 1938, Greenlee, who still held Paige's NNL contract, again made an unsuccessful attempt to sign Paige. Greenlee then sold his contract to the Newark Eagles for $5,000, but they could not sign him either. Paige instead went to play in the Mexican League.

Jorge Pasquel, a Mexican baseball executive and businessman, and his four brothers wanted the Mexican League to compete with the major leagues. Their plan to do that was to hire the best Negro league players who were ignored by the big leagues, then raid big league teams and field integrated clubs in the name of international baseball. With this goal, they hired Paige for $2,000 per month to play for the moribund Club Agrario of Mexico City, to create a rivalry for Club Azules of Veracruz, a powerhouse bunch led by Martín Dihigo. Back in the states, Greenlee, out $5,000, declared Paige "banned forever from baseball."

Pitching in Venezuela, Paige felt pain in his right shoulder. After he arrived in Mexico, the pain developed into the first major injury of his career. He tried to pitch through the pain, and managed to beat Dihigo in their first match-up in early September, allowing one run in eight innings. Two weeks later they faced off again, and this time Paige could barely lift his arm. He managed to go six-plus innings in a game that Paige's team ultimately lost 10 to 3. One sportswriter wrote that Paige looked like a "squeezed lemon."

Paige returned to his hotel room. He recalled that the next morning, "My stomach got sick with the pain that shot up my right arm. Sweat popped out all over me. The pain wouldn't quit. I tried lifting my arm. I couldn't. I just sat there, sweating, hurting enough to want to cry, getting sicker in the stomach and getting scared—real scared. My arm. I couldn't lift it." He was examined by physicians in Mexico and in the United States; one expert told him that he would never pitch again.

Kansas City Travelers: 1939

With his arm injured, Paige suddenly found himself unemployable. He looked for work as a manager or coach, but was unsuccessful. One ballclub owner was willing to give him a chance to play ball again—J.L. Wilkinson of the Monarchs. Wilkinson offered him the modest opportunity to play, not for the Negro American League Monarchs, but for a second-string barnstorming team called the Travelers, which was now renamed the Satchel Paige All-Stars. Paige would pitch when he could and play first base when he could not.

Managed by Newt Joseph, the team also included Byron "Mex" Johnson, but otherwise it mostly functioned as a minor-league team staffed by marginal, aging, or young players. Playing throughout Kansas, Missouri, the Dakotas, Illinois, and even Utah, large crowds turned out to see Paige throw an inning or two, relying on junkballs. Paige recalled, "Everybody'd heard I was a fastballer and here I was throwing Alley Oops and bloopers and underhand and sidearm and any way I could to get the ball up to the plate and get it over, maybe even for a strike. But even that made my arm ache like a tooth was busting every time I threw. And the balls I was throwing never would fool anybody in the Negro leagues, not without a fast ball to go with them."

Sometime that summer Paige's fast ball returned. Paige's catcher, Frazier "Slow" Robinson, recalled that one afternoon Paige told him, "You better be ready because I'm ready today." Paige then surprised him when, with Robinson expecting a lob, Paige "threw that baseball so hard that he knocked the mitt off my hand." Modern sports medicine specialists suggest that Paige suffered from a partially torn rotator cuff in his shoulder caused by repetitive stress. Paige's recovery was assisted by the Monarch's long-time trainer, Frank "Jewbaby" Floyd, who was sent by Wilkinson to work with Paige. Floyd worked with massage, hot and cold water, ointments, and chiropractics. He had Paige rest his arm by pitching fewer innings and playing other positions.

By late fall his team was playing well against major Negro league teams. On September 22, 1939, in the second game of a double-header against the powerful American Giants, Paige won a 1–0 game, striking out 10 men in the seven innings before the game was called on account of darkness. Buck O'Neil, who had batted against Paige in 1935 and 1936 and faced him again in a game against the parent Monarchs, recalled a dropoff in speed but an improvement in deception. "He could still throw hard. Not as hard as he had thrown, but you're talkin' about somebody thrown' ninety-eight, a hundred miles an hour. But now he's throwin' maybe ninety—which is still more than the average guy... He was the best and, actually, he was so deceptive! You'd look at that big ol' slow arm movin' and—chooo—that ball's just right by you. And then he'd come up and throw you a change of pace and, oh, man."

Puerto Rico: 1939–40

In just one season, Paige left his mark on Puerto Rican baseball. He arrived in Puerto Rico in late October, four weeks after the start of the 1939/40 winter season, and joined the Brujos de Guayama (the Guayama Witch Doctors). The town of Guayama is widely known for its Santería, Palo (religion), and other spiritualist religious practices. In a legendary game in Guayama, Paige walked off the mound because he saw a ghost standing next to him.

A team that featured shortstop Perucho Cepeda and outfielder Tetelo Vargas, the Guayama Witch Doctors were the 1938–39 champions. In September 1939, they had won the semi-pro baseball "World Series" in Puerto Rico against the Duncan Cementeers. On November 5, Paige pitched a shutout against rival Santurce, which featured player-manager Josh Gibson, by a lopsided score of 23 to 0.

In a December game against Mayagüez, Paige set a league record by striking out 17. He ended the season with a 19–3 record, a 1.93 ERA, and 208 strikeouts in 205 innings. The 19 wins and 208 strikeouts set league single-season records that have never been broken. Paige helped his team win the league championship playoff series, winning two games against the San Juan Senadores.

Puerto Rican pitcher Ramón Bayron recalled, "It took special eyes to see his pitches." Luis Olmo, who later played with the Brooklyn Dodgers, described Paige that winter as "the best I've ever seen."

Kansas City Monarchs: 1940–471940–42

Paige returned to the Travelers for the 1940 season. Abe and Effa Manley, owners of the Newark Eagles, still claimed that they still held the rights to Paige's Negro league contract, and retaliated against Wilkinson by signing players from Wilkinson's Negro American League. In late June, the NNL and NAL leaders met to discuss the situation and reached an agreement that allowed Paige to advance to the Kansas City Monarchs and let the Manleys keep the players they had recruited in violation of the inter-league rules. Late in the 1940 season, Paige was promoted to the Monarchs. On September 12, Paige made his debut with the Monarchs against the American Giants and pitched a five-inning darkness-shortened complete game. The Monarchs won 9–3 and Paige struck out ten.

Because of Paige's strong gate appeal, there was considerable demand by outside teams to lease Paige's services to pitch for a single game. With infrequent league games, Wilkinson booked Paige to pitch for small-town teams or other Negro league teams at rates ranging from a third of the total receipts to a fixed fee $250 to $2,000 per game, plus expenses. Wilkinson purchased a Douglas DC-3 airplane just to ferry Paige around to these outside appearances. Because of the larger gate when Paige pitched, the Monarchs' owners could also insist on a larger share of the receipts from their road games. Wilkinson and Paige each kept a share of the fees. By the early 1940s, Paige's estimated annual earnings were $40,000, which was four times the pay of the average player on the major league New York Yankees and nearly matched the pay of their top star, Joe DiMaggio.

Hoping for some publicity for Paige, who had received relatively little coverage while pitching in the hinterlands with the Travelers, Wilkinson arranged for Paige to pitch on opening day of 1941 for the New York Black Yankees. Appearing in front of a crowd of 20,000 fans at Yankee Stadium, Paige pitched a complete game, 5–3 victory, striking out eight. As intended, the contest brought considerable coverage from both the black and white media, including a pictorial by Life magazine.

Paige took over the role of ace pitcher for the Monarchs, while Hilton Smith, their former ace, dropped to number two pitcher and sometimes was relegated to relieving Paige. Because of Paige's ability to draw a crowd, he would often be scheduled to start a game and pitch for three innings, with Smith or another teammate assigned to pitch the last six. In addition to Smith, Paige's teammates included first baseman Buck O'Neil, shortstop and manager Newt Allen, and center fielder Willard Brown. In 1941, the Monarchs won their third consecutive Negro American League championship. Though no standings were published, according to historian John Holway, they had a 24–6 team record for a winning percentage of .800, placing them five games ahead of the second-place New Orleans/St. Louis Stars.

On August 1, 1941, Paige made his first appearance in the East–West All Star Game in five years, collecting 305,311 votes, 40,000 more than the next highest player, Buck Leonard. Paige entered the game at the start of the eighth inning with the East leading 8–1 and pitched the last two innings. The only hit he gave up was a slow roller to the NNL's new starting catcher, the Baltimore Elite Giants’ Roy Campanella.

With America's entrance into World War II, Dizzy Dean came out of retirement, forming an all-star team consisting of recently drafted white major league and minor league players. On May 24, Dean faced Paige and the Monarchs in an exhibition game at Wrigley Field, the first time a black team ever played at Wrigley. The Monarchs defeated Dean's All-Stars 3–1 in front of a crowd of 29,775. On May 31, Paige teamed up with the Homestead Grays to face Dean's All-Stars again before 22,000 fans at Griffith Stadium. The Grays won 8–1, with Paige striking out seven (including Washington Senators star Cecil Travis) in five innings of work.

In the 1942 East-West All-Star Game, Paige entered in the top of the seventh with the score tied 2–2. Pitching the last three innings, he allowed three runs on five hits and was charged with the loss in the 5–2 game.

1942 Negro World Series

The Monarchs won the Negro American League pennant again in 1942. For the first time since 1927, the champions of the two leagues, Kansas City and Washington/Homestead, met in the Negro World Series. Paige started game one in Washington and pitched five shutout innings. The Monarchs scored their first run in the top of the sixth. In the bottom of the frame, Jack Matchett relieved Paige and finished the game, with Kansas City adding seven more runs to win 8–0.

Game two was played two days later in Pittsburgh, and a highlight was Paige's dramatic showdown with Josh Gibson. In the bottom of the sixth, Paige relieved starter Hilton Smith with the Monarchs ahead 2–0. In the seventh inning, he gave up three singles and faced Gibson with the bases loaded and two outs. Gibson fouled off the first two pitches, then whiffed on the third. When Paige told the story in his autobiography, he mythologized the story. According to Paige, the strikeout came in the ninth inning with a one-run lead, and he walked the three batters ahead of Gibson in order to face him. The mythical version was retold by Buck Leonard and Buck O'Neil in their memoirs. In the actual game, the Monarchs added three runs in the top of the eighth to take a 5–0 lead, then Paige gave up four in the bottom of the frame to make it 5–4. The Monarchs added another three in the top of the ninth and won 8–4.

After two days rest, Paige started game three, which was played in Yankee Stadium. Paige gave up two runs in the first and was pulled after two innings. Matchett pitched the remainder of the game, which the Monarchs won, 9–3, giving them a 3–0 lead in the series. The next series game was played a week later in Kansas City. When the injury-plagued Grays brought in star players from other teams, including pitcher Leon Day, second baseman Lenny Pearson, and outfielder Ed Stone of the Newark Eagles and shortstop Bus Clarkson of the Philadelphia Stars, the Monarchs played under protest. Day and Paige both pitched complete games, with Paige giving up four runs on eight hits and Day giving up one run on five hits for a Grays victory. The Monarchs' protest was upheld and the game was disallowed. Game four took place in Shibe Park in Philadelphia, and Paige was scheduled to start, but he did not show up until the fourth inning. According to his autobiography, Paige was delayed in Lancaster, Pennsylvania by an arrest for speeding. The Grays had taken a 5–4 lead, and Paige immediately entered the game. In the remainder of the game, he did not allow a hit or a run and struck out six, while the Monarchs' hitters scored two runs in the seventh to take the lead and three more in the eighth to win, 9–5, and sweep the series. Paige had pitched in all four official games in the Series (as well as one unofficial one), going 16 innings, striking out 18, and giving up eight hits and six runs.

1943–46

Paige was the West's starting pitcher in the 1943 East-West All-Star Game, played before a record 51,723 fans in Comiskey Park. He pitched three scoreless innings without giving up a hit, struck out four, walked one, and was credited as the winning pitcher in the West's 2–1 victory. As a batter, he hit a double to lead off the bottom of the third, then was lifted for a pitch runner to "thunderous applause."

World War II caused a large number of baseball players to be inducted into military service. Among Paige's Kansas City teammates, Connie Johnson, Buck O'Neil, and Ted Strong entered military service that year, and Willard Brown followed them the following season. Paige's Selective Service records show that during the war his draft status evolved from 1-A (available to be drafted) to 2-A ("deferred in support of national health, safety, or interest") to the final 4-A (too old for service, even though when he registered he gave a birth date of 1908, two years younger than his actual birth date). Paige continued to play, and the available statistics show a slip in performance in 1943, with a 6–8 record and a 4.59 run average (his highest average since 1929) reported for the Monarchs. The Monarchs' string of four straight pennants ended, as the Negro American League title was captured by the Birmingham Black Barons in 1943 and 1944 and by the Cleveland Buckeyes in 1945.

Before the 1944 East-West All-Star Game—black baseball's most lucrative event—Paige grabbed headlines when he demanded that the owners contribute the receipts to the war relief fund, threatening a player strike if they did not accede. The owners were able to turn the other players and fans against Paige, however, when they revealed that Paige had received $800 for participating in the 1943 game (in contrast to the $50 paid to the other players) and had demanded an extra cut for the 1944 game as well. Paige was removed from the roster and the a strike was averted when the owners agreed to raise the player payments (the East's team accepted $200 each, while the West's players agreed to $100).

In 1946, many of the Monarchs' players, including Willard Brown, Connie Johnson, Buck O'Neil, Ford Smith, and Ted Strong, returned from military service, and the team led the NAL in both the first and second halves, capturing the league pennant. O'Neil led the league in batting average, Brown in home runs, Johnson in wins, and Paige in total run average.

1946 Negro World Series

The Monarchs faced the Newark Eagles in the 1946 Negro World Series. The first game was played at the Polo Grounds and Hilton Smith started for the Monarchs. The Monarchs held a 1–0 lead in the bottom of the sixth, when Smith walked Larry Doby to lead off the inning, and Paige was called in to relieve. Paige struck out Monte Irvin and Lenny Pearson, but Doby stole second and Paige gave up a single to Johnny Davis, which tied the game. In the top of the seventh, the Monarchs got the lead back when Paige hit a single, advanced to second on an error, and scored on a hit by Herb Souell. Paige shut down the Eagles for the rest of the game, striking out eight and allowing four hits over four innings, and was credited with the win.

Two days later, Paige came into the second game in a similar situation as the first, but the result was quite different. Ford Smith started the game for the Monarchs, and he had a 4–1 lead entering the bottom of the seventh. After allowing two runs and with Irvin on first, Paige was brought in to protect the 4–3 lead. This time, however, Paige gave up four hits before the end of the inning, and four runs crossed the plate. Paige finished the game, but was charged with the loss in the 7–4 game.

The next two games were played in Kansas City, and the Monarchs won game three, getting a complete game from Jim LaMarque. Ted Alexander started game four, but gave way to Paige in the top of the sixth with the Monarchs trailing 4–1. Paige gave up three runs on three hits in the sixth, including a home run to Irvin. He went on to finish the game, giving up one more run in the seventh, and the Monarchs lost 8 to 1.

Kansas City won the fifth game and Newark won the sixth. For the deciding game seven, Paige was missing. Buck O'Neil believed Paige was meeting with Bob Feller about their upcoming barnstorming tour. With Ford Smith pitching, the Monarchs lost 3 to 2, and the Eagles claimed the championship.

Barnstorming with Feller: 1946–47

In 1946, Bob Feller organized the first barnstorming tour to use airplanes to travel from site to site. His tour has been described as "the most ambitious baseball undertaking since John McGraw and Charles Comiskey dreamed up their round-the-world junket in 1913." For his team, Feller recruited all-stars from both major leagues. As his main opponent, he asked Paige to head a team of Negro league all-stars.

Feller's team included 1946 American League batting champion, Mickey Vernon, at first base, Johnny Beradino at second, Phil Rizzuto at shortstop, and Ken Keltner at third. The outfielders were Jeff Heath, Charlie Keller, and Sam Chapman; after the World Series was over, National League batting champion Stan Musial would also join the tour. Catching was shared by Jim Hegan and Frankie Hayes. In addition to Feller, the pitching staff included Bob Lemon, Dutch Leonard, Johnny Sain, Spud Chandler, and Fred Hutchinson.

With help from J.L. Wilkinson and Tom Baird, Paige assembled a team that included first baseman Buck O'Neil, second baseman Hank Thompson, shortstops Chico Renfroe and Artie Wilson, third basemen Howard Easterling and Herb Souell, outfielders Gene Benson and Johnny Davis, catcher Quincy Trouppe, and pitchers Barney Brown, Gentry Jessup, Rufus Lewis, Hilton Smith, and Neck Stanley.

Feller scheduled 35 games in 31 cities in 17 different states, all to be played in 27 days. The tour would require 13,000 miles of travel. Several same-day multi-city doubleheaders were to be played. Feller leased two DC-3 airplanes, with "Bob Feller All-Stars" painted on one fuselage and "Satchel Paige All-Stars" on the other. While Feller's team would face several other opponents, the majority of the games were against Paige's team. Feller and Paige would start each game whenever possible and usually pitch one to five innings.

The first game was played at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh on September 30, two days after the end of the major league season and one day after the final game of the Negro World Series. Paige and Feller each pitched three innings and left the game with the score tied 1–1. Feller struck out three and gave up two hits, while Paige struck out four and gave up only one hit. Paige's team broke the tie in the seventh inning when Hank Thompson walked and stole second and Souell drove him home with a single up the middle.

Over the next six days, Feller's team won games in Youngstown, Cleveland, Chicago, Cincinnati, New York, and Newark, before Paige's team won a second game in New York. Paige pitched five shutout innings in Yankee Stadium before a crowd of 27,462. After the game they flew to Baltimore, where that same evening Paige's team beat Feller's. The next day, Paige's team won again in Columbus. From there, Feller's team won games in Dayton, Ohio, Richmond, Indiana, Council Bluffs, Iowa, and Wichita, Kansas. They then played two games in Kansas City, with Paige's team winning the first game on a three-run walk-off home run by Johnny Davis, and Feller's team winning the second. After that series, Feller's team continued on to Denver and California, while most of Paige's team left the tour. Paige, however, continued on to California where he joined a lesser team, Chet Brewer's Kansas City Royals, which was scheduled to play Feller's All-Stars.

Paige faced Feller in Los Angeles and in San Diego and lost both games. Another scheduled match-up was cancelled when Paige filed a lawsuit against Feller, claiming that Feller had not paid some of the money he was owed. Overall, Feller had pitched 54 innings against Paige's team and given up 15 runs, an average of 2.50 per nine innings. Paige had pitched 42 innings and allowed 18 runs, or 3.86 per nine innings.

After the 1947 season, Feller organized another all-star team for a barnstorming tour. This time, Paige was not invited to tour with him, with Feller opting to play more games in the South against white opponents. Paige did face Feller twice, however, while playing with Chet Brewer's Kansas City Royals in Los Angeles. In the first game, on October 15, both pitchers went four innings. Feller gave up four hits and one walk and struck out two, while Paige gave up just two hits and one walk and struck out seven. Nevertheless, Paige took the loss when he gave up a run in the fourth when Keltner singled and later scored on a sacrifice fly by Heath. On October 19, they again faced each other in front of a crowd of 12,000-plus. Both pitchers went five innings. Paige allowed three hits and no walks, and struck out eight, including Ralph Kiner twice. He left the game with a 1–0 lead, but Feller's team came back in the late innings to win 2–1.

Integration in baseball

When Branch Rickey signed Jackie Robinson, a former teammate of Paige, Paige realized that it was for the best that Paige himself was not the first black player in major league baseball. Robinson started in the minors, and had a major league team started him in its minor league affiliate, Paige would have probably seen this as an insult. Paige eventually realized that by integrating baseball in the minor leagues first with Robinson, the white major league players got the chance to "get used to" the idea of playing alongside black players. Understanding that, Paige said in his autobiography that, "Signing Jackie like they did still hurt me deep down. I'd been the guy who'd started all that big talk about letting us in the big time. I’d been the one who'd opened up the major league parks to colored teams. I'd been the one who the white boys wanted to go barnstorming against." Paige, and all other black players, knew that quibbling about the choice of the first black player in the major leagues would do nothing productive, so, despite his inner feelings, Paige said of Robinson, "He's the greatest colored player I've ever seen."

Finally, on July 7, 1948, with his Cleveland Indians in a pennant race and in desperate need of pitching, Indians owner Bill Veeck brought Paige in to try out with Indians player-manager Lou Boudreau. On that same day, his 42nd birthday, Paige signed his first major league contract, for $40,000 for the three months remaining in the season, becoming the first Negro pitcher in the American League and the seventh Negro big leaguer overall. Larry Doby, who broke the color barrier in the American League at the age of 23 the same year Robinson did in the National League, would be a teammate of Paige.

Major Leagues

Cleveland Indians

On July 9, 1948, Paige became the oldest man ever to debut in the major leagues, at the age of 42 years and two days. When asked about his age, he would reply "If someone asked you how old you were and you didn't know your age, how old would you think you were?" With the St. Louis Browns beating the Indians 4–1 in the bottom of the fourth inning, Boudreau pulled his starting pitcher, Bob Lemon, and sent Paige in. Paige, not knowing the signs and not wanting to confuse his catcher, pitched cautiously. Chuck Stevens lined a ball left field for a single. Jerry Priddy bunted Stevens over to second. Up next was Whitey Platt, and Paige decided to take command. He threw an overhand pitch for a strike and one sidearm for another strike. Paige then threw his "Hesitation Pitch" (see "pitching style" section below), which surprised Platt so much that he threw his bat 40 feet up the third base line. Browns manager Zack Taylor bolted from the dugout to talk to umpire Bill McGowan about the pitch, claiming it was a balk, but McGowan let it stand as a strike. Paige then got Al Zarilla to fly out to end the inning. The next inning, he gave up a leadoff single, but with his catcher having simplified his signals, Paige got the next batter to hit into a double play, followed by a pop fly. Larry Doby pinch-hit for Paige the following inning.

Paige got his first big league victory on July 15, 1948, the night after he pitched in an exhibition game against the Brooklyn Dodgers in front of 65,000 people in Cleveland's Municipal Stadium. It came at Philadelphia's Shibe Park. The Indians were up 5–3 and the bases were loaded in the sixth inning of the second game of a double header. He got Eddie Joost to fly out to end the inning, but gave up two runs the next inning when Ferris Fain doubled and Hank Majeski hit a home run. Paige buckled down and gave up only one more hit the rest of the game, getting five of the next six outs on fly balls. Larry Doby and Ken Keltner hit home runs in the ninth to give the Indians an 8–5 victory.

Longtime Chicago Cubs broadcaster Jack Brickhouse once said with amusement that Paige "threw a lot of pitches that were not quite 'legal' and not quite 'illegal.'" American League President Will Harridge eventually ruled the Hesitation Pitch definitely illegal and, if thrown again, it would result in a balk. Paige said, "I guess Mr. Harridge did not want me to show up those boys who were young enough to be my sons."

On August 3, 1948, with the Indians one game behind the Athletics, Boudreau started Paige against the Washington Senators in Cleveland. The 72,562 people that saw the game set a new attendance record for a major league night game. Although a nervous Paige walked two of the first three batters and gave up a triple to Bud Stewart to fall behind 2–0, by the time he left in the seventh, the Indians were up 4–2 and held on to give him his second victory. His next start was at Comiskey Park in Chicago. 51,013 people paid to see the game, but many thousands more stormed the turnstiles and crashed into the park, overwhelming the few dozen ticket-takers. Paige went the distance, shutting out the White Sox, 5–0, debunking the assumption that nine innings of pitching was now beyond his capabilities.

The Indians were in a heated pennant race on August 20, 1948. Coming into the game against the White Sox, Bob Lemon, Gene Bearden and Sam Zoldak had thrown shutouts to run up a thirty-inning scoreless streak, eleven shy of the big league record. 201,829 people had come to see his last three starts. For this game in Cleveland, 78,382 people came to see Paige, a full 6,000 more people than the previous night game attendance record. Paige went the distance, giving up two singles and one double for his second consecutive three hit shutout. At that point in the season, Paige was 5–1 with an astoundingly low 1.33 ERA. He made one appearance in the 1948 World Series. He pitched for two-thirds of an inning in Game Five while the Indians were trailing the Boston Braves, giving up a sacrifice fly to Warren Spahn, got called for a balk and struck out Tommy Holmes. The Indians ended up winning the series in six games.

Paige ended the 1948 season with a 6–1 record with a 2.48 ERA, 2 shutouts, 43 strikeouts, 22 walks and 61 base hits allowed in 72 2⁄3innings. There was some discussion of Paige possibly winning the Rookie of the Year Award. While technically a "rookie" to the majors, the 20-plus-year veteran Paige regarded such an idea with disdain and considered rejecting the award if it were to be given. The issue proved moot, as both versions of the award (by Major League Baseball and by Sporting News) were given to other players. The year 1949 was not nearly as good for Paige as 1948. He ended the season with a 4–7 record and was 1–3 in his starts with a 3.04 ERA. After the season, with Veeck selling the team to pay for his divorce, the Indians gave Paige his unconditional release.

St. Louis Browns

Penniless, Paige returned to his barnstorming days after being released from the Indians. In 1950, he signed with the Philadelphia Stars in the Eastern Division of the NAL for $800 per game. When Veeck bought an 80% interest in the St. Louis Browns he soon signed Paige. In his first game back in the major leagues, on July 18, 1951, against the Washington Senators, Paige pitched six innings of shutout baseball until the seventh when he gave up three runs. He ended the season with a 3–4 record and a 4.79 ERA.

In 1952, Rogers Hornsby, an alleged former member of the Ku Klux Klan, took over as manager of the Browns. Despite past accusations of racism, Hornsby was less hesitant to use Paige than Boudreau was four years before. Paige was so effective that when Hornsby was fired by Veeck, his successor Marty Marion seemed not to want to risk going more than three games without using Paige in some form. By July 4, with Paige having worked in 25 games, Casey Stengel named him to the American League All-Star team, making him the first black pitcher on an AL All-Star team. The All-Star game was cut short after five innings due to rain and Paige never got in. Stengel resolved to name him to the team the following year. Paige finished the year 12–10 with a 3.07 ERA for a team that lost ninety games.

Stengel kept his word and named Paige to the 1953 All-Star team despite Paige not having a very good year. He got in the game in the eighth inning. First, Paige got Gil Hodges to line out, then after Roy Campanella singled up the middle, Eddie Mathews popped out. He then walked Duke Snider, and Enos Slaughter lined a hit to center to score Campanella. National League pitcher Murry Dickson drove in Snider, but was thrown out at second base trying to stretch the hit into a double. Paige ended the year with a disappointing 3–9 record, but a respectable 3.53 ERA. Paige was released after the season when Veeck once again had to sell the team.

Paige once again returned to his barnstorming days with Abe Saperstein. They formed a baseball version of Saperstein's Harlem Globetrotters. Paige then joined the real Globetrotters when he joined one of their most popular "reams"—the "baseball routine". Paige would "pitch" the basketball to Goose Tatum, who would "bat" the ball with his arms, run around the "bases" and slide "home" safely. Paige never actually played on the team, though. Although he was making a decent living, Paige grew tired of the constant travel. His family had grown with the birth of his fourth child and first son, Robert Leroy.

Paige then signed for $300 a month and a percentage of the gate to play for the Monarchs again. Then, on August 14, 1955, Paige signed a contract with the Greensboro Patriots of the Carolina League. He was scheduled to pitch at home three days later against the Philadelphia Phillies farm team, the Reidsville Luckies, but before he could suit up, Phillies farm director Eddie Collins wired George Trautman, president of the National Association of Professional Baseball Leagues, to protest Paige's appearance. Trautman, dealing with the integration of southern baseball against a Jim Crow backdrop, ruled that the signing was invalid, but the Greensboro team reminded him that the Carolina League had already approved the contract. Trautman then ruled that Greensboro could only use Paige in exhibition games. Unfortunately, Greensboro had already scheduled Paige to pitch in a regular season game which was sold out in advance and could not change it to an exhibition. In the end, the game was canceled when Hurricane Diane hit the Carolinas.

Veeck once again came to Paige's rescue when, after taking control of the Phillies' triple-A farm team, the Miami Marlins of the International League, he signed Paige to a contract for $15,000 and a percentage of the gate. Marlins manager Don Osborn did not want Paige and said that he would only use him in exhibition games. Veeck made a deal with Osborn that he could line up his best nine hitters, rotating them in from their positions in the field, and Veeck agreed to pay ten dollars to any of them who get a clean hit off of Paige. Paige retired all nine and Osborn agreed to make Paige a roster player. In Paige's first game as a Marlin, he pitched a complete-game, four-hit shutout. Osborn, a former minor league pitcher, taught Paige the proper way to throw a curveball, which allowed Paige to tear through the International League. Paige finished the season 11–4 with an ERA of 1.86 with 79 strikeouts and only 28 walks. This time, when Veeck left the team, Paige was allowed to stay on, for two more years.

In 1957, the Marlins finished in sixth place, but Paige had a 10–8 record with 76 strikeouts versus 11 walks and 2.42 ERA. The following year, Osborn was replaced as manager by Kerby Farrell, who was not as forgiving when it came to Paige missing curfews or workouts. He was fined several times throughout the year and finished 10–10, saying that he would not return to Miami the following season. In 1959, Paige returned to his barnstorm roots and signed a pitching contract with the Havana Cuban Stars who were owned by Dempsey Hovland. Paige was in and out of baseball, pitching sporadically, over the next decade. At the age of 55, in 1961, Paige signed on with the Triple-A Portland Beavers of the Pacific Coast League, pitching twenty-five innings, striking out 19 and giving up eight earned runs. He failed to record a single decision in his stint with the Beavers.

Kansas City Athletics

In 1965, Kansas City Athletics owner Charles O. Finley signed Paige, 59 at the time, for one game. On September 25, against the Boston Red Sox, Finley invited several Negro league veterans including Cool Papa Bell to be introduced before the game. Paige was in the bullpen, sitting on a rocking chair, being served coffee by a "nurse" between innings. He started the game by getting Jim Gosger out on a pop foul. The next man, Dalton Jones, reached first and went to second on an infield error, but was thrown out trying to reach third on a pitch in the dirt. Carl Yastrzemski doubled and Tony Conigliaro hit a fly ball to end the inning. The next six batters went down in order, including a strikeout of Bill Monbouquette. In the fourth inning, Paige took the mound, to be removed according to plan by Haywood Sullivan. He walked off to a standing ovation from the small crowd of 9,289. The lights dimmed and, led by the PA announcer, the fans lit matches and cigarette lighters while singing "The Old Gray Mare".

In 1966, Paige pitched in his last game in organized baseball, getting some measure of revenge when he pitched for the Carolina League's Peninsula Grays of Hampton, Virginia, against the very same Greensboro Patriots who had been forced to release him before his first pitch back in 1955. Paige gave up two runs in the first, threw a scoreless second and then left, never to return as a player in organized baseball again. Interestingly, Peninsula used their backup catcher that day, rather than play their regular starter, a young Johnny Bench. Also in 1966, Paige pitched for the semipro Anchorage Earthquakers, a team that barnstormed through Canada. In 1967, Paige appeared with the Globetrotters in Chicago and played with the Indianapolis Clowns for $1,000 a month.

Pitching style

The spectacle of watching Paige pitch was made all the more entertaining by the expansive pitching repertoire he developed over the years. Until 1938, Paige threw mostly hard fastballs and an occasional curveball. Before the 1939 season, Paige suffered an arm injury that robbed his fastball of some velocity. Paige responded by adding a changeup and experimenting with different arm angles. Then, in 1943, Paige debuted the "hesitation pitch": In 1933, while playing integrated baseball in Bismarck, North Dakota, The Bismarck Tribune reported that Paige used "a tricky delayed delivery with great effectiveness."

The idea came to me in a game, when the guy at bat was all tighted up waiting for my fast ball. I knew he'd swing as soon as I just barely moved. So when I stretched, I paused just a little longer with my arms above my head. Then I threw my left foot forward but I didn't come around with my arm right away. I put that foot of mine down, stopping for a second, before the ball left my hand. When my foot hit the ground that boy started swinging, so by the time I came around with the whip he was way off stride and couldn't get anywhere near the ball. I had me a strikeout.

By the 1950s, Paige was throwing almost any pitch imaginable, including a screwball, a knuckleball, and an eephus pitch.

Post-playing career

After the 1957 season, Paige went to the Mexican state of Durango to appear in a United Artists movie, The Wonderful Country, starring Robert Mitchum and Julie London. Paige played Sgt. Tobe Sutton, a hard-bitten cavalry sergeant of the Buffalo Soldiers. He was paid $10,000 to be in it, and the movie became the pride of his life. Late in 1960, Paige began collaborating with writer David Lipman on his autobiography, which was published by Doubleday in April 1962, and ran to three printings.

In 1968, Paige assumed the position of deputy sheriff in Jackson County, Missouri, with the understanding that he need not bother to actually come to work in the sheriff's office. The purpose of the charade was to set up Paige with political credentials. Soon after, he was running for a Missouri state assembly seat with the support of the local Democratic club against incumbent Representative Leon Jordan. Candidate Paige never gave a speech, and was never taken seriously. Jordan defeated Paige by the margin of 1,870 votes to 382 (83%–17%).

In August 1968, the owner of the Atlanta Braves, William Bartholomay, signed Paige to a contract running through the 1969 season as a pitching coach/pitcher, although it was mainly done so that Paige could gain service time to receive a major league pension. Paige did most of his coaching from his living room in Kansas City, but he did pitch in at least one pre-season exhibition game in April 1969, striking out Don Drysdale.

Bowie Kuhn replaced William Eckert as the Commissioner of Baseball in 1969. In the wake of Ted Williams' 1966 Hall of Fame induction speech urging the induction of Negro leaguers, and on the recommendation of the Baseball Writers' Association of America, Kuhn empowered a ten-man committee to sift through hundreds of names and nominate the first group of four Negro league players to go to the Hall of Fame. Because Paige pitched in Greensboro in 1966, he would not have been eligible for enshrinement until 1971, as players have to be out of professional baseball for at least five years before they can be elected. All of the men on the committee agreed that Paige had to be the first Negro league player to get elected, so this gave Kuhn plenty of time to create some sort of Negro league branch in the Hall of Fame. On February 9, 1971, Kuhn announced that Paige would be the first member of the Negro wing of the Hall of Fame. Because many in the press saw the suggestion of a "Negro wing" as separate-but-equal and denounced major league baseball for the idea, by the time that Paige's induction came around on August 9, Kuhn convinced the owners and the private trust of the Hall of Fame that there should be no separate wing after all. It was decided that all who had been chosen and all who would be chosen would get their plaques in the "regular" section of the Hall of Fame. Paige could not get a job in the major leagues after part of his HOF induction speech was misinterpreted as bitter anger, instead of grateful, by the still largely white baseball elite. Satchel enjoyed a brief run of renewed popularity after his HOF induction appearing on a few TV shows and making the rounds of the Major Leagues Old Timers Games Circuit. After the buzz died down he took a job with the Tulsa Oilers minor league team in the early 1970s as their pitching coach. During the mid-to-late 1970s he finally slowed down his traveling ways making only occasional personal appearances at mostly minor league stadiums and banquets. In 1980 Satchel was named vice-president of the Triple-A Springfield Cardinals, although it was mostly an honorary position.

Personal life

On October 26, 1934, Paige married his longtime sweetheart Janet Howard. After a few years they separated and she had him served with divorce papers while he was walking onto the field during a game at Wrigley Field. At his court date, on August 4, 1943, Paige's divorce was finalized with him paying a one time payment of $1,500 plus $300 for attorney's fees to Janet. Paige unsuccessfully married Lucy Maria Figueroa during this time while playing in Puerto Rico in 1940.

In 1946 or 1947, Paige married his longtime girlfriend Lahoma Brown. Paige and Lahoma had seven children together; Lahoma also had a daughter from an earlier marriage.

Death

Paige died of a heart attack during a power failure at his home in Kansas City on June 8, 1982, a month before his 76th birthday. He is buried on Paige Island in the Forest Hill Memorial Park Cemetery in Kansas City.

Legacy

In 2010, sportswriter Joe Posnanski, writing for Sports Illustrated, named Paige as the hardest thrower in the history of baseball. He based this, in part, on the fact that: "Joe DiMaggio would say that Paige was the best he ever faced. Bob Feller would say that Paige was the best he ever saw. Hack Wilson would say that the ball looked like a marble when it crossed the plate. Dizzy Dean would say that Paige's fastball made his own look like a changeup." Posnanski further noted that: "for most of his career Satchel Paige threw nothing but fastballs. Nothing. Oh, he named them different names—Bat Dodger, Midnight Rider, Midnight Creeper, Jump Ball, Trouble Ball—but essentially they were all fastballs. And he was still unhittable for the better part of 15 years. One pitch. It's a lot like Mariano Rivera, except he wasn't doing it for one inning at a time. He was pitching complete games day after day. That had to be some kind of incredible fastball.... [he was] perhaps the most precise pitcher in baseball history—he threw ludicrously hard. And he also threw hundreds and hundreds of innings."

In an article in Esquire magazine in 1976, sportswriter Harry Stein published an article called the "All Time All-Star Argument Starter", a list of five ethnic baseball teams. Paige, a choice Stein meant more out of sentiment than anything else, was the relief pitcher on his black team.

On May 31, 1981, a made-for-television movie titled Don’t Look Back aired starring Louis Gossett Jr. as Paige, Beverly Todd as Lahoma, and former baseball pro Bubba Phillips as Coach Hardy. Paige was paid $10,000 for his story and technical advice. The film was based on the 1962 book, Maybe I'll Pitch Forever. In August, with great difficulty because of health problems, he attended a reunion of Negro league players held in Ashland, Kentucky that paid special tribute to him and Cool Papa Bell. Attending the reunion were Willie Mays, Buck Leonard, Monte Irvin, Judy Johnson, Chet Brewer, Gene Benson, Bob Feller and Happy Chandler.

In the film Are We There Yet?, there is a Satchel Paige bobblehead doll voiced by Tracy Morgan, who is anthropomorphic to his keeper.

Buck O'Neil, a former teammate and longtime friend of Paige, claimed in the 1994 documentary Baseball that Babe Ruth batted against Paige once. According to O'Neil's story, the two men opposed each other in a barnstorming game after the Babe's retirement, and that Ruth hit a 500-foot home run off Paige. O'Neil said that Paige was so awestruck by the shot that he met Ruth at the plate to shake his hand, and later had Ruth sign the ball. However, Paige stated in the 1948 book, Pitchin' Man by Hal Lebovitz, that one of his greatest disappointments was, "I never pitched to Babe Ruth." While the Babe Ruth All-Stars did play exhibition games against Negro league teams, there is no documented evidence that Paige and Ruth ever faced each other. In addition, there is no mention of this claim in any of the biographies on Ruth, which would surely have been worth discussing.

In 1996, Paige was played by Delroy Lindo in the made-for-cable film Soul of the Game, which also starred Salli Richardson as Paige's second wife, Lahoma, Mykelti Williamson as Josh Gibson, Blair Underwood as Jackie Robinson, Harvey Williams of Kansas City, as "Cat" Mays, the father of Willie Mays, Edward Herrmann as Branch Rickey and Jerry Hardin as Commissioner Happy Chandler.

In 1999, he ranked Number 19 on Sporting News' list of the 100 Greatest Baseball Players, and was nominated as a finalist for the Major League Baseball All-Century Team.

On July 28, 2006, a statue of Satchel Paige was unveiled in Cooper Park, Cooperstown, New York commemorating the contributions of the Negro leagues to baseball.

Satchel Paige Elementary School in Kansas City is named in his honor.

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#Satchel Paige #07-07 #06-08

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