#but also if you have advice for starting over eight years into your career that is very welcome

[thesokovianaccords]

fun fact! masking your stress and anxiety with humour actually does not make the situation any less stressful or anxiety inducing.

i will learn nothing from this revelation.

[jimlingss]

Three years!

Hello, everyone and happy Jimlingss anniversary! Woohoo! It has been three years since my official retirement and eight years since I’ve began this blog. That’s absolutely crazy since it all feels like yesterday. Time flies when you’re having fun.

First and foremost, thank you to all who still send me messages and give me feedback on my stories! I do check back once in a while and read everything, so nothing goes unnoticed. Your kind words always make me miss the simpler days of writing. :’) It really gets me nostalgic.

Second, here is my yearly update!

I’ve finished my second year of law school! I finished off this year with a bang and did quite well, if I do say so myself. There’s one more year left to go and that’s insane since I remember the first day so vividly. I’m a bit sad for it to be all over — I never thought I’d ever feel this way. But I’ve made so many friends and created so many memories. When it’s all over, everyone will be going their own path. Luckily, I’m sure we’ll remain connected and be close friends no matter what.

I don’t think I’ve had such a positive experience quite like this in all my years of schooling. I’ve always been the type to just scurry on home, never liked what I was studying, and never had too many friends. So this change has been unexpected yet very welcome.

In terms of career, I’ve been working this summer and I have something lined up for when I’m finished school! So soon I’ll be racking in the dough, wooooooo!! Let’s get it!

My family is also doing well — and I feel very fortunate for that. 

Third, and most important, I am happy to announce that I have a boy I absolutely adore! We’ve officially been dating for four months? That seems so short on paper, but we’ve known each other for close to two years! I’m living out one of my friends to lovers fics, I swear (lol).

He’s been a close friend since the start of law school and somewhere along the line I gradually caught feelings (of course I did lmao). I was sure rejection was on the horizon and I wanted to preserve our dear friendship, so I was trying to get over it for months by myself. This included online dating and going on a string of dates (hahaha). I ended up cracking and calling him on the phone one night, but then aborted mission. Thanks to the advice of a friend, I stopped avoiding him and being an embarrassment, and I finally confronted him. He said we should give it a shot, and here we are!

He has brown, curly hair that reminds me of a poodle. And he made me realize why love is so loved — why it’s so revered — talked about — imprinted in each other’s minds. Everywhere. I’ve written countless love stories but never truly experienced the feeling before, and yet, he’s made the heart of my stories come to life. He’s let me live them in real time. 

I really hope it works out! LOL

Anyway, I’m always happy to do these updates and for all those who may be just a bit curious enough about me to check in. Although this is a very positive update (and I hope it continues to be), my life isn’t without its ups and downs either. It just seems to be in a general upwards trajectory. 

Thank you to everyone who still remembers me, and who may still read my stories! I definitely haven’t forgotten about you all, so I hope you haven’t forgotten me either.

Here’s to another year! See you again!

[shepherds-of-haven]

hii! i'm a new author working on my first if, and i'm really not doing great tbh. shepards of haven is (my current hyperfixation) sosososososo good and so expansive and just generally the best thing ever and i'm aware that you've been writing this story for years and that's probably why it's so amazing but i'm not having a fun time over here and i was wondering if you have any tips for worldbuilding or if you could share like a general overview of your process? thank you so much :))

Hi there, I'm sorry to hear you're not feeling great about your project at the moment! I think my #writing advice tag could be helpful to you, since that's where I stick all the posts and answers about writing tips and worldbuilding advice from this blog, as well as my @strangevoyages blog, which is exclusively focused on my authorial career and writing-related tips and tricks, so it might be easier to parse through for advice! This post I wrote last year, in particular, could be helpful for worldbuilding, as well! (As well as this post for my general tips for beginning writers of interactive fiction!)

On top of all that, though, I think the best piece of advice I can add on for you is to be patient with yourself! As you mentioned, I've been working on Shepherds for over 20 years now: it was basically the first story I ever wrote, and I still haven't published it in a complete form yet. My first novel, We Have Always Been Here, also took about four years to complete, and in that amount of time, I burned it completely to the ground and started it over from scratch FIVE TO EIGHT TIMES before I got so sick of looking at it I just had to submit it. And I thought I would start my second novel directly after that, starting a few months after WHABH's completion in 2019. It's been four years since then and I'm still figuring out the world and characters of that second novel, to the point that I've also started and completely scrapped the story three or four times... I didn't even settle on the main cast or their names until earlier this year, so that's like 3 years where I didn't even know their names, let alone how their world worked. 🥹 And in the last four years, I've still only gotten as far as about ten chapters on this series, and my most current draft is only at four! (And I'm about to scrap some of that and start over again... 🥹)

At some point, you finally iron things out and the story details settle and actually click, and then you might be off to the races--but you've got to give yourself the time, patience, and understanding to actually get there first! I know that things can feel frustrating when it feels like you've run up against a wall or you just aren't feeling inspired, but letting things simmer for a while just allows the flavors of your story to complexify and deepen. You're creating a whole new world in your head, so give yourself a break! It takes time. Like a good soup, sometimes you have to let it sit on the stove for a bit and bubble away without poking at it impatiently and wishing it would hurry up or dumping ingredients in it to make it cook faster. In the meantime, consuming media that inspires you or that you genuinely love and enjoy--without turning it into the work and chore of "research"--might uncork or illuminate something you didn't even know was brewing. That's what I most often do when I'm feeling uninspired! I just leave everything where it is, meander away, watch or read or play something that intrigues me, and that often naturally sparks inspiration when I'm not thinking too hard about it. A watched p(l)ot never boils, so to speak!

I hope that (and my other posts linked above) help you in some way. Good luck with your writing and again, try not to be too hard on yourself! You're not alone, every writer feels this way: it's just a part of the process, but one that we can mitigate by giving ourselves time and patience. :) And thank you for the kind words about Shepherds, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

[pynkhues]

Oooh I’d absolutely love to listen if you’d ever want to share your experience with the differences in male and women writers 👀🤍

(x)

Hahaha, mm, look, I should disclaimer this with the fact that a lot of the men and women I spoke to at the writers centre weren't necessarily writers so much as they wanted to be writers?

The writers centre I worked at was a non-profit arts support service, so we were separate from the authors guild / union, but basically the organisation they'd refer people onto a lot for anything from people wanting to do creative writing workshops and masterclasses to people needing advice on preparing their novel manuscript for submission to legal advice on publishing contracts or even just connections to bookstores. It was a real mix of stuff, and our clientele ranged from absolute beginners and hobbyists to probably some of the most famous Australian authors working. I'd say most of the membership though was early career writers who had probably had a couple of short stories published, and were hoping to get a novel out.

I worked there for five and a half years and it really burnt me out. It was a pretty gruelling job, the pay was shit, and while a lot of people calling up were lovely, a lot were calling either to vent about rejection or were in a crisis mode usually because they'd just been preyed on by self-publishers and vanity presses and were now stuck in contracts that would financially ruin them.

But yes, haha, in my experience of working there and talking to writers literally all day, every day, from across the spectrum of experience:

Men will never sign up as a member (ergo pay their dues), donate or support the Centre, but WILL take advantage of the free advice line. I think we worked out at one point 92% of our paying members were women, yet I'd say over half the calls I took during the day were men.

Men consistently think they've written a hit. Quotes I've never forgotten include "This'll be bigger than Dan Brown and Robert Ludlum combined", "Now, is it you I should talk to when the bidding war starts?" and, my personal favourite: "I've written the greatest book since Federation."

They WILL send you their manuscript even though you are very clear that you do not read manuscripts at the centre. We are eight staff, we have 4k members, it is not possible.

Sometimes! Those manuscripts they send you will have capital I Images on the covers of them to 'catch your eye'. The worst one I ever saw was a woman stark naked spread eagle with a swastika photoshopped over her vagina.

Men do not think workshops will help them. They know enough and if you suggest a workshop on, say, writing fight scenes, or preparing your manuscript for publication, they will get audibly annoyed at you and usually wrap up the conversation.

Men will call to ask you why their self-published book isn't selling on Amazon like it's your fault.

Men will call to ask you why their traditionally published book isn't selling anywhere like it's your fault (I don't know, man! Probably because publishers have no marketing budgets anymore!)

Men are Never Wrong and also Always the Victim, which I guess is basically what you'd expect, haha.

[mybookplacenet]

Featured Author Interview: Janice Rostron

Tell us about yourself.: I am a Professional Organizer and the owner/operator of Just Focus and Reorganize, LLC (JFR). I started playing guitar as a shy, introverted 12-year-old. In my late twenties, I tackled my stage fright and joined a band. I have since played shows throughout California and have recorded two full-length albums and one EP (during which time I earned the moniker “Janice F'n Reid” a.k.a. “JFR”). I received a BA in Legal Studies (with a minor in Music) from UC Berkeley and have since joined the Cal Alumni Association. GO BEARS! I then earned an MEd and a Multiple Subject teaching credential from UCLA. I worked as a public elementary school teacher for eight years before deciding to pursue a career in Professional Organizing. I am an active member of the National Association of Productivity and Organizing Professionals (NAPO). I have earned NAPO Specialist Certificates in Workplace Productivity and Team Productivity. I served as the Los Angeles chapter’s Treasurer for the 2016–2017 term. I was the leader of NAPO’s Environmentally-Conscious Organizers special interest group for the 2020–2023 terms. I am also a subscriber to the Institute for Challenging Disorganization (ICD) and have earned a Level II Chronic Disorganization Specialist Certificate. I love working one-on-one with my clients and enjoy speaking to groups about organization and productivity. In 2022, I moved to Denver to grow the business … and purchase my first home. Where did you grow up, and how did this influence your writing?: I grew up in Littlerock, CA which is a small, desert town in Southern California. I am not sure how this influenced my writing. Back then, I wrote dark, angsty poetry but that had more to do with adolescence than where I grew up. Now, my writing is much more positive and action-focused. Do you have any unusual writing habits? I am not sure if it is unusual, but I can only write in the afternoon. What authors have influenced you? I grew up in Littlerock, CA which is a small, desert town in Southern California. I am not sure how this influenced my writing. Back then, I wrote dark, angsty poetry but that had more to do with adolescence than where I grew up. Now, my writing is much more positive and action-focused. Do you have any advice for new authors? Don't get overwhelmed by how much there is to do to write, publish, and market a book. Decide what the next step is and schedule it into your calendar. Focus on one action item at a time. What is the best advice you have ever been given? You can't do it all! What are you reading now? Tiny Habits by BJ Fogg Julia by Sandra Newman What's your biggest weakness? Over-analyzing What is your favorite book of all time? Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll When you're not writing, how do you like to spend your time? I still play guitar when I can and enjoy going to rock, punk, and metal shows. I love food and am always looking for the next restaurant to try. I like taking walks around town and going for hikes. Do you remember the first story you ever read, and the impact it had on you? I was an avid reader and made frequent trips to the library so I am not sure I can remember the first story I ever read. However, I LOVED reading Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman and The Monster at the End of This Book by Jon Stone. Even though I knew everything worked out in the end, but I really enjoyed taking the journey with them. What has inspired you and your writing style? My teaching experience has inspired my writing style. I am striving to simplify everything and make even the more complex, overwhelming things in life understandable and actionable. What are you working on now? Since my first book came out a little over a month ago, I am working on promoting that right now. What is your favorite method for promoting your work? My favorite methods for promoting my work is through social media and speaking to groups about the productivity systems in my book. What's next for you as a writer? Although I am not ready to start on another writing project, I would love to write a book about how to be environmentally-conscious when you are decluttering and organizing your home. How well do you work under pressure? I am definitely not working at my best under pressure. I would much rather finish early than work up the last second of a deadline. How do you decide what tone to use with a particular piece of writing? I write self-help/how-to so I use my tone which is to-the-point with occasional wry humor. If you could share one thing with your fans, what would that be? Simplify everything! Janice Rostron's Author Websites and Profiles Website Amazon Profile Goodreads Profile Janice Rostron's Social Media Links Facebook Page Instagram LinkedIn Read the full article

[reasoningdaily]

Is the Loneliness Epidemic Making Us Susceptible to Wellness Scams?

I never set out to be alone. However, when I lived in the Middle East, my life was one of social isolation. The job I’d taken to help boost my husband’s career left me with little time for recreation or sleep or friends. My colleagues and I were friendly enough, but we weren’t close. Meanwhile, the eight-hour time difference made communicating with loved ones back home nearly impossible. When my spouse ended our marriage, I was desperately lonely. I’d been sober for a decade, and I feared sliding back into substance abuse.

During that time, I began experiencing chronic joint pain. After my doctor added a neck brace to the knee and wrist braces he’d already prescribed, I succumbed to his suggestion that I start attending a weekly yoga class. It was my only option. In 2005, the gyms in Doha only held “ladies’ hours” while this lady was working. I was leery. My parents owned a gym. In our family, stretching was something you did between real sports. The thing was, unlike the doctor’s braces, going to yoga actually helped resolve my body’s aches and pains.

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I knew my heart was broken, but I didn’t attribute my physical pain to my emotional state. Studies have shown they are related. When we’re lonely, our pain receptors are on high alert. Because of my addiction history, I knew that my path to well-being would mean attending to both my physical and emotional needs. Over the next few years, that journey took me down a rabbit hole I never would’ve imagined.

Encouraged by the success I’d had with yoga and lacking health insurance, I landed at a number of meditation ashrams and healing communities, including the infamous Osho sex cult in India. Though I did find healing in some spaces, I also came across shady practices in the name of wellness. While I’m not surprised by the exponential growth of the wellness economy, it’s cause for concern when it comes to unlicensed practitioners without anything to back up their claims of expertise.

The wellness boom has led to many scams.Getty Images

“When you’re feeling at a low point or vulnerable in your life, these influencers present in such a way that it seems like they understand how you feel, but then they might provide advice that’s not accurate,” says cognitive behavioral therapist Jennifer Guttman. “There are no regulations at all on who can claim to be an expert.”

In the depths of my despair, I didn’t investigate the unsavory wellness groups I joined. I just wanted to feel better. It was only long after my stay at Osho that I discovered the murderous crimes carried out in the name of the eponymous guru. And while my particular story is not common, the misery that drove me to seek out alternative healing is more prevalent than ever now.

Before the pandemic, U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy was already calling loneliness an “invisible epidemic.” Guttman notes that there has been a huge uptick in recent years in cases of depression, including a 60 percent leap in suicide rates for adolescents and 27 percent for adults.

My search for wellness took me around the world.Getty Images

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The timing could not be worse. Last year, the Association of American Medical Colleges released data projecting a massive shortfall in physicians for the year 2034. “We’ve been seeing this coming for 20 years,” says Koshin Paley Ellison, a psychotherapist and co-founder of the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. “The health care system has become an industrial complex. It’s mostly for profit.”

When I was going through my divorce 12 years ago, I was told there was a six-week wait to see a psychiatrist in my health care plan. The same day, however, I was able to join a meditation group. There, the teacher offered the ultimate drug: He listened. Though that particular group has since dissolved over allegations of sexual misconduct, I was lucky. Between my limited resources and natural skepticism, I didn’t dive deeper. I also didn’t have 24-7 access to fresh social media content.

“The unregulated wellness industry is a fertilized petri dish for charismatic leaders to bloom and organize resources, not based upon how competent they are or who’s assessing their work, but based upon how well they look on Instagram,” says Matthew Remski, a cult researcher and co-host of the podcast Conspirituality, which examines charismatic wellness leaders and their followers.

“Social isolation is a symptom of depression, and depressed people turn to their phones,” Guttman says. “When you turn to your phone, you’re more vulnerable to social media influencers because that’s where you get your social outlet.”

The Gospel of Wellness

The Gospel of Wellness

In The Gospel of Wellness, author Rina Raphael writes that she’s not surprised by the confluence of wellness and “what were once considered ‘woo-woo’ convictions.” When I recently spoke to her on the phone, she was quick to point out that the causes are “multifactorial,” and loneliness isn’t the only reason people seek healing or community.

“I’ve never really trusted doctors,” says Matthew Pinkowski, a 45-year-old compliance manager from Florida who credits alternative therapies with improving his mental health. “My hypnotherapist really changed my life. We did breathing, singing bowls, crystals. All that stuff helped me get over anxiety. Then, the pandemic hit, and I went back for a tune-up. The therapist had gone full QAnon, telling me about underground cities and how Katy Perry eats babies.” Pinkowski was not convinced and moved on.

Unfortunately, the same wasn’t true for my 85-year-old father. Before opening his gym in 1978, he was a science-minded metallurgical engineer who lectured me about greenhouse gases. In September 2021, dad had a seizure in a downtown Pittsburgh parking garage. As doctors began testing for possible causes, my sister and I discovered he’d been treating his prostate problems at home with piles of supplements and regular injections administered by a vitamin salesman he knew from the gym.

Be cautious of unregulated wellness solutions.Getty Images

By all objective measures, my father was lonely. We were well into the second year of the pandemic, and he’d been living alone since my mother passed away seven years earlier. Whether the injections helped or hurt him would be impossible to say now. Once we could take charge of his treatment, my dad was too weak for the surgery he needed.

When dad died, among the various supplement concoctions littering his kitchen table was a one-page script he’d apparently been using to call government representatives and demand an end to research that “grafted skin from aborted fetuses on rodent babies.” A simple search online showed that the language was a gross misrepresentation of the research.

Today, I have nothing but compassion for my father and all of us who simply want to feel at ease in our bodies. My quest for wellness spanned many years and continents before I recognized I’d turned my search into a self-sabotaging hunt for what was wrong with me. As Paley Ellison said in our conversation, “We can use anything as medicine or poison.” The trick I discovered was to start looking at what was right.

[mikeanzivino]

Mike Anzivino Is The Most Successful Realtor In Ave Maria

Ave Maria is a city located in Southwest Florida. Ave Maria is known for its beautiful scenery, churches, and history. However, Ave Maria is also known for one thing- the success of its real estate agents. Mike Anzivino is the Best Realtors in Ave Maria, and he has a lot of advice to share with you if you're looking to buy or sell a home in this beautiful city.

Mike Anzivino’s Background

Mike Anzivino is the Best Realtors in Ave Maria. He has sold over $50 million worth of property in his career, and his methods have made him a titan in the industry.

After graduating from college, he moved to Florida to start his real estate career. He quickly became one of the top agents in the state, and then eventually nationwide.

Anzivino’s success can be traced back to two things: his passion for helping people find their dream home, and his willingness to go above and beyond for his clients. He is always available to answer any questions or help with whatever needs may be arisen during a transaction.

Anzivino also has a unique selling point: he is personally involved in every aspect of each sale, from picking out the property to working closely with the buyers’ agents after they come on board. This hands-on approach ensures that all parties are happy with the final product – a key factor in any successful real estate transaction.

How Mike Became The Best Realtors in Ave Maria

Ever since he started his career as a real estate agent, Mike Anzivino has been one of the most successful in Ave Maria. He started out as a small-time broker in 2004 and quickly gained a reputation for his hard work and dedication to his clients. In just eight years, he had grown his business to become one of the top real estate agencies in town.

What makes Mike so successful? His dedication to his clients and his focus on quality customer service are two major factors. He always puts his clients first, no matter what situation they are in. If someone needs to sell their home quickly, he will do everything he can to help them get the job done. He also takes pride in providing high-quality services. If there is something wrong with the house that one of his clients is buying, he will take care of it immediately.

Mike’s success comes from hard work and dedication. He has never taken any shortcuts, and he refuses to let anything stop him from achieving his goals. If you want to be successful in real estate, then you need to follow the same path that Mike has paved for himself.

What Kind of Services Does Mike Offer?

Mike Anzivino is a real estate agent who has been successful in Ave Maria, Florida. He offers a wide range of services to his clients, including selling and buying homes, finding property listings, and helping with the process of buying or selling a home. He also offers guidance on how to negotiate prices and deal with potential buyers or sellers.

Mike has many years of experience in the real estate industry and is known for his knowledge and expertise. He is also a dedicated professional who takes care of his clients' needs every step of the way. His goal is to help them find the perfect home that meets their needs and desires.

If you're looking for an experienced real estate agent who can help you find the perfect home, contact Mike Anzivino today!

How Much Does It Cost To Work With Mike?

Mike Anzivino is the Best Realtors in Ave Maria. He has sold over $1 million worth of properties in the past five years, and he's not slowing down anytime soon.

To achieve his impressive sales numbers, Mike relies on a few key strategies that have helped him become one of the most successful realtors in Ave Maria. First and foremost, he makes sure to stay up-to-date on the latest trends and technologies in the real estate industry. He also takes great care to cultivate strong relationships with his clients and make sure they are always happy with their purchase experience.

If you're looking to work with a top-notch realtor who can help you find your dream home or sell your current property, look no further than Mike Anzivino. He will provide you with expert guidance and support throughout your Real Estate transaction, so you can be confident that you're getting the best possible service.

Conclusion

Mike Anzivino is the Best Realtors in Ave Maria. He has a proven track record of success and he knows what it takes to get results for his clients. If you are looking for real estate services in Ave Maria, then Mike Anzivino is your best option. He will work tirelessly to find the right property for you and he will go above and beyond to make sure that you are satisfied with the purchase. Contact him today to learn more about how he can help you achieve your real estate goals!

[realestateraw]

What You Must Understand About Real Estate Before Closing Your First Deal

After almost eight years in the real estate business, I made one of the costliest mistakes of my career, losing over $1 million on a deal because I didn’t understand something important.

Yes: $1 million dollars! It makes me sick just thinking about it.

So, what didn’t I understand? I call them the three pillars of real estate: market cycles, debt, and exit strategies. If you understand the three pillars, you can mitigate much of the risk involved with real estate investing. Fail to understand these concepts and you’ll likely make lots of money in real estate, only to turn around and lose most of it during the next shift in the market.

By understanding these pillars, you will not only make more money, but also keep more money, which is ultimately the name of the game. So, let’s take a closer look at each one.

Pillar #1: Market Cycles

Markets go up, and markets go down. Prices go up; prices go down. What most people don’t realize is that market shifts are quite predictable. 

Keep in mind that all markets cycle—the real estate market, the stock market, apartments, offices, single-family homes. These are all individual markets and will have their own cycles independent of, and sometimes in sync with, the national economy. Understanding past market conditions will allow us to deploy the most accurate business model in the present. 

No one has a crystal ball, but you can follow a common pattern to maximize your real estate profits. The average real estate cycle lasts eight to ten years from top to top or bottom to bottom. If you are in a great economy now, you should reasonably expect an economic downturn in two to four years.

If you are in a down cycle and prices are low, buy everything! The market will recover in two to three years, and your assets will rise in value. 

Pillar #2: Debt

Without an understanding of debt (traditional or creative), you’re likely to underwrite a deal incorrectly or to accept a loan from a lender that may be counterproductive to the exit strategy. Most traditional commercial loans come with a prepayment penalty if you pay the loan off early.

What if your exit strategy is to renovate the property and sell it for a large profit in a short amount of time? What if you fix up your property and want to refinance to pull out cash?

If you get the wrong loan, you may see a fair amount of profit absorbed by the prepayment penalty. This is just one example of debt and its correlation to your business model. 

Pillar #3: Exit Strategy

The exit strategy is the first part of any good real estate analysis and arguably the most important of the three pillars. You must know the way out before you go in. 

How can you tell if a deal is a good one or not if you don’t know what you are going to do with it? Renovate and sell? Renovate and refinance? Hold forever and cash flow? These are a few exit strategies. For your analysis to be accurate, you need to know what the exit strategy is before you even consider making an offer.

Once you learn to analyze a deal by understanding which market cycle you are in, you can then figure out which part of the cycle you will likely be in when you own and ultimately exit the deal. 

The Three Pillars Together

To have real staying power in the real estate business, you must fully understand and be able to implement the three pillars in any market situation. This is what separates the investors who fade away from the ones who stick around for decades. So, I highly advise you to take the time you need to study and understand all three pillars and how they work together. 

Misunderstanding or misapplying one of these concepts can cost you fortunes. You don’t want to lose money—$1 million (or potentially even more)—like I did, right? Of course not. Thankfully, with this knowledge, you’ll be well ahead of where I was when I made that mistake.

For more advice on the three pillars of real estate, you can find Creative Cash on Amazon.

What started out as a conversation at a live event one hot, sunny day in downtown Atlanta has blossomed into an amazing collaboration between Bill Ham, Jake Stenziano, and Gino Barbaro (Jake & Gino). Bill was instrumental in helping Jake & Gino launch their mentoring program and is one of the lead trainers in the company.�� With over twenty-five years of experience in operating vertically integrated real estate businesses, and over $100 million in assets under management, Bill, together with Jake & Gino, strive to teach others the strategies that have allowed them to become financially free.

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Teen star of RTE's Kin reveals how show got her in trouble at school

School goer Hannah Adeogun plays Michael's estranged daughter Anna

SHOWBIZ By Katie Gallagher   11 OCT 2021 (X)

...Lifting the lid on how she tapped into that inner emotion within her complex character, Hannah revealed writer and creator Peter McKenna encouraged her to draw from her own life experiences and life as a teenager today.

And the star, who caught her first break three years ago as Ella on Irish drama Women on the Verge, said that often proved draining to portray.

But she credited the show boss, and her co-star Charlie Cox, who plays Michael for helping her throughout the process.

“It was really great having them there to help me because becoming Anna is emotionally draining and it takes a lot to pull all those emotions.. Because she is going through so many emotions. And to have them there, to say you are doing great really helped. Becoming Anna with them was really great and I couldn’t have asked for better people to do it with.”

The school goer also told how she and her parents couldn’t help but ‘fangirl’ over the group of huge stars she was starring alongside in the new RTE hit.

“Especially Ciaran Hinds,” she said. “I was a big fan girl over Ciaran Hinds because he was in the last Harry Potter movie, so when I found out he was in it, I had a really big fan girl moment. I’m not in any big scenes with him, but knowing he is in the same TV show that I am in was such a big achievement for me, and it made me really proud of myself.

“And my dad was obsessed with the fact I was working with him [Charlie], because he was in Daredevil. And when I found out he was in it, I watched it, and was even more intimidated by it and I was so shocked and like ‘oh now I have to up my game and be really mature with how I do this.”

~*~

National World

Charlie Cox interview: the actor on Irish crime drama Kin and when he’s returning to the MCU as Daredevil

Charlie Cox discusses the UK debut of his crime drama Kin, his upcoming Netflix show Treason, and his Marvel Cinematic Universe return

By Alex Moreland     24th February 2022 (X)

On another note, but kind of picking up on that idea of family, which is a big theme in the show: some of your best scenes were with Hannah Adeogun, who plays Michael’s daughter. She’s 15, which is a little bit younger than you were when you started acting professionally – did that prompt you to reflect back on your own career at all? Did you have any advice for her at all?

Charlie Cox: “Hannah was fantastic, and I loved doing the scenes with her. I loved working with her – it was really exciting to me, and challenging, because it’s the first time I’ve played a father on screen, and I am a father. It was exciting to kind of, you know, bring my own experience into that relationship.

I feel like – I know it’s probably only a few years difference – but I got my first professional job I think at 19. For me, there was a big difference between 15 and 19. I also I think Hannah was 14 when we shot this? Maybe I’m wrong about that. But I had left school, and I’d also had other jobs and stuff, I’d worked, so it was slightly different.

I don’t tend to offer advice unless I’m asked, and Hannah seemed to have it all. I remember, there was an audition where they asked me to read with her. She did it one way, and it was good, it was fine. And then Diarmuid [Goggins, who directed the first four of Kin’s eight episodes] spoke to her a bit about the scene and blah blah blah – she did it again, and it had a new depth to it. That was enough for me, and for all of us, I think to say right, well, she’s got whatever it takes. She’s got it. I guess, you know, the thing with acting is it’s about how easily can you access it, once you’re in front of a camera or in front of a crew? That’s the question.”

~*~

[victimofthemusic]

Hi. Hello. Just a little personal note❤️

So, I usually keep my tumblr pretty lighthearted and fun and I don’t ever really go super deep into my personal life, but occasionally I tend to open up and let you guys in on what’s going on with my life, whether it’s personal or mental health check ins or just little notes on what’s currently going on in my life. And this will be one of those little moments.

So, it’s currently 1:34 am where I’m at in the world and I’m laying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, anxious and spiraling a little bit, because when I walk in to work tomorrow morning—less than eight hours from now—I’ll be handing in my two weeks. And I’m absolutely terrified.

I’ve been at this job for seven years, it was my first job and I started working there right after I graduated high school. It’s come with a lot of highs and a lot of lows, but bad has always outweighed the good, but I stuck with it because I needed the money and I’ve always been so worried about how having “too many jobs” looks terrible on a resume. So I stuck it out, worked my way up to store manager (retail, yuck) and I just…can’t do it anymore. I feel trapped there, I feel stuck and this job was never intended to be a career. When I started, I was in college, but I dropped out for various reason, but this job slowly took over my life. I just feel like if I don’t get out now, I never will, but I’m also terrified, because I hate change and I also have no back up plan. I’m jumping blind without a parachute and I’ve never been more anxious about something before in my life. But I can’t wait anymore. I feel like I’m being reckless and irresponsible, because I have bills to pay, but I just have to get out for my mental health and overall well-being.

Am I crazy? Probably. Is it worth it? I hope so.

I’m just so ready to spread my wings and fly somewhere better. There’s so many things I want to do and things I want to accomplish and I’m so sick of waiting and making excuses, you know?

I guess what I’m asking for is just some encouragement, some good vibes, advice, anything y’all got for me as I take on this scary chapter of my life. I fear the unknown more than anything and not having a plan is terrifying, but I feel like I have to do this.

Anyways. Thank you guys for all the love and support—this blog has grown into something I never dreamed it would and I’m so thankful for each and every one of you. You guys are the best and sometimes the only thing that keeps me going and I adore you guys💖 whether you’ve been silent followers, have reached out to me personally or just interact with my posts—you guys are amazing.

I hope you guys are doing well. Taking care of yourselves and living your best lives. Thriving, as you all deserve💛

I’m hoping this new transition will allow me to get more writing done, because that’s what my true passion is in my life and I hope to make it a career, someday🖤

Anyways. If you got this far, thank you for reading and I promise it will be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon💛

[songbirdstyles]

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly. 

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp. 

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do. 

 ~~

 The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry? 

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record. 

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends. 

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants. 

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

 ~~~

 The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off,  waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd. 

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

[imaginesforjohnnydepp]

Being Johnny And Winona Ryder’s Daughter (Johnny Depp x daughter!reader)

for anon @evelynrosestuff   @kittenlittle24 

WARNING: MENTION OF R*PE

- Alright, you’re the only child of Winona Ryder and Johnny Depp (his oldest)

you were born at some point in 1993 before the broke up (idk the exact date of when they broke up)

part of your name having Hebrew origin

being partly raised with Judaism 

Tim Burton is def your godfather

- Having Vanessa Paradis as your de facto stepmom 

honestly, she’s the coolest

doting on Lily-Rose and Jack

- 2001 is just a rough year

when your mom got sick while filming, you were so terrified

you were eight years old and scared out of your mind

then the shoplifting arrest

- To say third and fourth grade was rough would be an understatement

your friends couldn’t hang out with you anymore

parents and teachers would point and whisper about as you passed in the hall

thankfully she didn’t go to prison but she still felt bad because you didn’t deserve to go through that

- You later move to Santa Clarita which is over thirty minutes away from Los Angeles which works wonders

your mom takes a hiatus from acting and you become so close during that time

when she does return to acting, you’re thirteen and you’ve caught the acting bug

not that anyone is surprised

- Everyone is so supportive of you and proud

you start off small

a few episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit

in one episode you play a rape victim and in another you play a child genius who kills her roommate out of jealousy

you receive critical acclaim for your roles

- You’re juggling high school and acting but you manage to keep your grades up

your first movie role is in 2009 in a Sandra Bullock movie in which you play her daughter but your break out role is playing Taylor Lautner’s love interest in Abduction (2011) followed by more indie movie roles and your career snowballs from there

all eyes are on you and you’re an instant it girl

covering magazines like Seventeen and Teen Vogue

- During talk show interviews you’re always asked about your parents and your love life

what do your parents think of your career?

are you dating anyone right now?

who is your current celeb crush?

not that it’s anyone’s business but you’re dating that cute brunette in your history class

- Ten years later and you’re a force to be reckoned with in the industry

you’ve been nominated for big awards but you haven’t won yet

your performances are always met with critical acclaim even if the movie is lackluster

- Your fans on social media always go wild whenever you and Lily-Rose post a picture together

fan pages dedicated to you

also being proud of your little sister

- Being the face of a luxury fashion brand and makeup company

you’ve been a Lancôme ambassador since you were 24

- Being in a committed relationship with your significant other who is also in the industry

you live together in LA and you have two cats

your families approve 

you never talk about your relationships except to confirm or deny 

that’s one of the most important pieces of advice your mom and dad gave you as your star started to rise

- Your parents are just so proud of you and they tell you all the time

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count;  1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

[lokiondisneyplus]

After spending over 30 years in the world of makeup design for film and television, Douglas Noe landed in the time-defying, creative playground of Marvel Studios' Loki. Serving as the Disney+ show's makeup department head, Noe not only designed the characters' individual looks, but continued to be Tom Hiddleston's makeup artist. Noe has worked on Hiddleston's Loki since 2012's The Avengers, carefully evolving the God of Mischief's look over time.

Loki isn't the first time Noe has spearheaded a makeup department for a Marvel Cinematic Universe production. Previously, Noe served as the makeup department head for Thor: The Dark World's additional photography -- making up approximately 20% of the film's final looks. He's also no stranger to the magic of prosthetic work and the intricate details needed for Marvel's epic adventures, having a creative hand in bringing both Captain Marvel's Skrulls and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Kree to life on-screen. In the industry, Noe is also known for specializing in palettes for actors of color and has worked on stars like Jackie Chan.

In an exclusive interview with CBR, Noe discussed what it was like bringing The Avengers-era God of Mischief into Loki and his approach to doing makeup on a production stuffed with special effects. He also shared which MCU stars have graced his chair and his advice for makeup departments looking for practical ways to de-center whiteness.

Loki's Makeup Evolution

CBR: One thing that I noticed -- which I'm excited to pick your brain about -- when we first see Loki, he has a really pale complexion. His hair is greasy. As he evolves, his skin gets a warmer look. Was that an intentional progression from when we first see him as a villain-ish and how he grows within the MCU?

Douglas Noe: Yes, that's a very astute observation. Of course, at the beginning of The Avengers, he's kind of a wreck, isn't he? And as he settles and normalizes, his pallor then indeed calms down. It was very nuanced. It was only a matter of maybe one or two shades difference, but you definitely caught something most people have not.

That was 10 years ago, but it was a very minor detail we decided would be important as the narrative and the dialogue and the intellect of that character evolved into the storyline. It became important to kind of mainstream and refine his appearance.

Since Loki kicks off from that earlier version of Loki, did you think about bringing any more of that paleness to his look? How did you decide on how you wanted to show him from Loki's time period/first episode?

Oh, that's a good question. The truth is, from the end of The Avengers also shot again in Avengers: Endgame, we change nothing.

We did exactly what we did on Endgame that we did for The Avengers. And in turn, that's how we started the Loki series. It was that that look from Endgame, which, of course, is the look from The Avengers. No alterations were made, other than -- and I can already tell we're not getting anything past you -- we did warm him up. We did bring some more flesh into him... The truth is, that was Tom's idea. I get it because it was an unspoken understanding between us that there's greater accessibility to Loki if he looks more like most people. Now, those are my words. Not his. But, he definitely wanted us to warm it up just a skosh.

How Loki's SFX Affected Its Makeup Design

With Loki, there's a ton of visual effects. With makeup, it's so dependent on lighting -- it can change everything. What was the biggest challenge about working on a show like this that has so many special effects being added in post?

What you just said, it's working on a show like this. Marvel gets it and they do it right. There's almost an aspect where we lean into these kinds of things. And we change nothing to take into account the constantly evolving and changing lighting effects. The approach was to keep everybody natural, or naturally beautiful. Whatever happened happened. [We] knew Marvel is going to give it the once over once it's all done. And if there was anything to address that did happen because of lighting, it would have happened in post.

But, to my knowledge, nothing was addressed. We just accepted that. At certain times, people would be pink because of the light. They would be blue because of the light or purple and we accepted that and didn't try to make any attempts to balance it or right it in any way. We leaned into it and accepted it made it part of the story. It was its own character, if you will.

Sylvie's Makeup Was Always Meant To Be "Natural"

Building off what you said about a natural look for Loki's actors, did you always know you wanted Sylvie's makeup to have a natural look?

Absolutely, absolutely. The approach there was less is more. We didn't want to bury her in beauty makeup. It would have been very easy to do, because Sophia Di Martino is gorgeous, of course. But, the idea was let's do just enough to keep her naturally beautiful.

Practical Ways To De-Center Whiteness In Makeup Rooms

You designed Hunter B-15's look, and you're well known in the industry for specializing in makeup palettes for people of color. Since you've been in the industry for so long, what are some practical things that people within the makeup department, or its heads, can do to make it less white-centered?

That's a great question. Get out of the way. You have room for everybody, especially with today's explosion of content. But I would say to those who are going to hold tightly that they may as well just squeeze it out of their hands, "Just understand color theory." And, have it in your head that if somebody wants someone to do their makeup that closer represents how they look, get out of the way. It really is that simple. As you said, I've made it a specialty, a rite of passage to learn the ins and outs of all color tones. For me, I bring that to the table, so I don't have to get out of the way; but I know enough to know when it is time.

I have an anecdote that relates. I just did the Netflix series [True Story] with Kevin Hart and Wesley Snipes for eight episodes. And Tawny Newsome [who portrays Billie in the upcoming series] was our leading lady, a beautiful African American woman. I could have done a bang-up job, but that wasn't the right decision to make. She needed a female makeup artist because it was a modern beauty glam look we were going to do on her. Now I do get modern beauty glam very well, but I wanted somebody that would do it great. So I got out of the way.

What's one, nitty-gritty thing that helped in expanding your understanding of color theory? Any books or makeup brands?

Oh, well, I could talk about makeup brands all day long. But, again, go back to the color theory. Get a color wheel from an art store. If you don't know how to mix colors, how to make primary and secondary colors to get tertiary colors, get a color wheel and be a sponge. I'm, what, 36 years in this career? 31 in film. I've never stopped learning. I'm never closed off to garnering new info. And when I don't, again, I get out of my way. I'm not up to snuff on this contemporary modern book with the square eyebrows, so I hired somebody that was.

But, getting back to your point, there are so many books. I have countless books on this very topic. I would say, "Be patient, learn color theory. And accept that, especially now, we're in an era where you may just have to get out of the way. And let it be what the person in the chair wants it to be." Because, ultimately, that's who we're there for, the actors.

You've been working in Marvel's world for a long time. What's one Marvel character that you would love to do their makeup or prosthetics?

I've never thought about it because, to be honest with you, I feel like I won the lottery. When we started with doing Loki on The Avengers, we didn't know what was gonna happen. I'm trying to think, hmm. On Captain Marvel, I was doing Skrulls -- that was fun. I did some work on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. when they had a couple of episodes with Kree.

They were so cool.

Right? I'm trying to think -- I did mention to somebody before that on The Avengers I was given the choice:  [Jeremy] Renner or [Mark] Ruffalo or this new guy called Tom Hiddleston. The makeup was described to me and I was told that Hulk was going to beat him up a little bit and we were going to do a little something-something and they asked, "What do you want to do?" And I said, "I want to do a little something-something." So, I landed with Tom.

I'd have to really think, "Who would I like?" I've done Lizzie Olsen's makeup for the Tom Hiddleston film I Saw the Light. I've done Idris Elba's makeup a couple of times for a couple of Marvel films, but also for a movie called Takers. And I worked with him on a movie called The Reaping. He's a gem, of course... I'm really happy with who sits in my chair at the beginning of every day on these things. I've never thought past that. I garner so much pleasure and we have so much joy together. I'm happy where I'm at... I'm happy with Loki. I love Loki.

Well, Loki is coming back for Season 2, so you never know who will pop in the chair.

I've heard we're coming back, but that's all I've heard. That's all I know. And that's truly wonderful for me because ignorance is bliss. Whatever they dream up, I'm always eager to jump in and be a part of it.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer's "Hush" Monsters Were Hand-Painted

Digging way back into your history, you were once a makeup designer on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is one of my favorite shows! What's one thing about that era of monster-makeup that you don't think gets enough credit for doing?

I always refer to Buffy the Vampire Slayer as Buffy the Weekend Slayer because we would get off on Saturday morning as the sun was coming up and have to be back to work a couple of hours before the sun came up on Monday... What you see is what you get. You had to be on your game. We were real craftspeople back then and there was no margin for error. The words that go with CGI simply didn't exist in 1999. You really had to be on point with makeup.

I would say what's lost now is the notion that makeup always has to be perfect. We know now it doesn't have to be perfect because we can fix it in post. I think a lot of people would say that helps us, but I think it handicaps those of us that are able to deliver the product without a computer's touch.

I remember I did one of the gentlemen on Buffy's episode, "Hush." My boss, Todd McIntosh, was saying, "You got to do the back of the neck... You never know what's gonna happen. You have to make sure that the back of the neck has makeup on." And, sure enough, the camera goes by and they were supposed to leave the frame, but the camera follows them. We just had to be on point and I think now many artists who came into the business with CGI, don't understand what it's like to be grinding your teeth and clenching your fists on set, hoping it looks okay because there's nothing left to fix it for you.

[tundrainafrica]

Hi Sav. Sorry for this rather personal question, but I’ve always find you a very wise older sister. I remember you saying that you change career? I did that too, I left a very well prestigious career to another one that I felt more at ease. Have you ever regret your decision? I sometimes still think of the what if. Also, did your parents got mad at you? Do you have any life advice for this nervous mess of a person? Haha

Thanks for the question! Don't apologize for that. I'm actually touched people are actually curious about this so brace yourself for a bunch of bull shit about my life.

I remember you saying that you change career?

LMAO MY LIFE IS A MESS.

I graduated with two degrees, economics and environmental science and I decided last minute to apply to law school. Then I did a human resources job for a few months then I decided to drop law school to focus on work cause I had a job already that was offering me higher than what I would have gotten with law then I realized I kinda hated human resources and thank god they laid me off.

But here's the thing, if your first job gives you a good salary, it's pretty much smooth sailing from there because every job after that will usually do their best to beat the your first salary.

I work in business development, tech support, software testing etc. It's a job which wears a lot of hats?

And I kinda still make use of my econ degree since I trade stocks on the side.

But about environmental science, I opted not to continue with environmental science cause given the current situation in the country, I'm probably gonna get shot.

Have you ever regretted your decision?

Yes but I think given my own thinking habits, it’s kinda normal for me to think really hard about everything? Like I constantly feel like I would have done better in every single other job but you know it's that type of sadness where I'm all like sad for five seconds, I take a deep breath and I just move on.

I applied to medical tracks and law tracks even when I was in high school. I just opted not to pursue those either. I considered taking the talent test for piano in the music conservatory and I started preparing for that already and I opted not to pursue those either.

So I think about how easily my life would have changed, if I just did something differently but I don't feel really strong regret if that's what you're asking.

I wouldn't have met my boyfriend for example if I didn't take my environmental science degree. I wouldn't have joined the chess team or met my friends there if I didn't take an economics degree because the one who introduced them to me was my economics classmate.

And, yeah I probably wouldn't have gotten into Levihan in the first place or written any fanfiction if I pursued law school.

I wouldn't have met the amazing people in my company if I didn't pick that job so everything just seems to work out in the end, and when I try to assess the decisions I COULD have made, I realize, those decisions wouldn't have been me anymore because a lot of the weird decisions I have made are the reason I'm here today and I'm pretty okay with where I am.

Also, did your parents got mad at you?

My parents aren't the type to get 'mad.'

They get disappointed and they just would be glaringly not excited about what I do if I do something they don’t want me to do.

They really wanted a doctor in the family and they really wanted a lawyer too. My sister is already a doctor so there was no big pressure for me to end up a lawyer. It does kinda hurt when I hear my parents talking about all eight of their kids being successful (except me) and how they spend so much money on the education of my siblings because they HEAVILY support all their hobbies and their general fields of study.

Do you have any life advice for this nervous mess of a person?

Know what you want.

THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. Because the last thing you want to do is be really miserable where you are. It's difficult to know what you want but I found, you can easily summarize it to something comprehensible.

Think to yourself, what is the most important things to you and rank them: Money? Family? Career? Friends? Love? Freedom? Hobbies? Bucket List? And from there, that's when you decide what type of job you're going to take or what type of field you want to get into or your plans for future studies for example.

Because unless you're REALLY lucky, you can't really have all of them, usually just one to two at a time since we all have 24 hours a day, a very mortal body etc.

And then people ask, what is the barometer of success? Money? Career? Family? Love?

It's achieving what you want and being satisfied with it. I think a happy and satisfied middle class person is miles more successful than an angry and overly resentful millionaire.

So if you wanna be successful, know what you want and value.

Have a good relationship with failure.

I think a lot of what influences people's decisions is a fear of failure or a fear of making the wrong decision but I personally found that a lot of things end up working out anyway if you just focus on the process of doing instead of the actual result.

Because all of us fail at something anyway and besides, when has nervousness or fear ever made us better decisionmakers?

Don’t be stupid with money

Do you need millions? No not really but I think how much money or savings you have will definitely impact your power to make decisions or pursue your interests or to just save yourself from completely fucking yourself over in the future so I think it's worth mentioning.

Build a credit rating as quickly as you can. Buy stuff on credit even if you know you can afford it and pay your debt on time so you can build a relationship with banks because these will be the people who will be lending you money for your house or your car. You save more money borrowing from the banks than paying off installments straight to companies.

Have money in stocks, mutual funds or other monetary instruments. Inflation happens every year and the value of the money you keep on deposit WILL go down. Your wages will not get higher as quickly as inflation applies to money so if you can, try to put money on investments if you have disposable income. My rule of thumb is try to earn at least 10% a year from monetary instruments to offset inflation

That's pretty much it, if you actually read this haha, thanks for reading I guess?

[sierraraeck]

Payphone

Spencer x GN!Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After dropping everything to be with Spencer, you start to wonder if you made the right choice. Part three.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Heated arguments. Mentions of Maeve’s death, drug use, and allusions to suicide.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Inspired by the song “Payphone” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct. Please keep in mind, I’m not a therapist, so I don’t actually know what questions they would ask, what advice they would give, or how they would handle this situation.

Internal dialogue

Flashback

How did I end up here? That was the main thought running through your head as you sat on the couch opposite the older woman in pointed framed glasses.

Her whispery voice traveled the space between you and pulled you back to real time. “So, how are you?”

You couldn’t help but make a snappy remark back. To be fair, you’d had plenty of practice lately. Plus, you were at a therapist’s office for Chrissake. She couldn’t really believe the answer to that question was going to be positive, could she? “Oh, you mean besides the fact that my best friend and love just said ‘fuck you’ to my face and then said he never wanted to see me again, storming out of my apartment with his keys to my place flying at my head? I’d say I’m doing fantastic.”

You could tell she was trying to hold a composed face, but you saw the slight exhaustion, and some disappointment, flash across her features. “Y/N, we don't have time for jokes. How'd the two of you end up there?” That’s what I’d like to know.

You sighed, “Well long story short, my relationship with Spencer ended on poor terms, I got engaged to Jordan, essentially cheated on him with Spencer, broke off the engagement to be with Spencer, and then that pretty much went to shit as well. Then you know the rest.”

She mirrored your sigh, but said in a soothing voice, “You’re not paying me to help you deal with the short version. Where do you stand with Spencer now?”

You wanted to laugh in her face, “Did you not hear the part about the keys at my head and the never wanting to see me again?”

She gave you a stern, cold look. “Y/N.”

“I know I’m sorry,” you apologized. You just couldn’t help it. Those types of snappy remarks had become a bit of a habit, to the point where it was clearly an unfiltered natural reaction. “That’s not the only thing that’s gone wrong lately, but it really just seems like the last straw.”

She leaned in toward you slightly, a wide open invitation. “Tell me about that.”

“I choose you.” The widest grin you could have imagined spread across Spencer’s face and he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was almost frantic, like if he didn’t do it immediately you would change your mind. You wouldn’t.

Until, maybe, you would. From the moment he kissed you until the moment you ended up in a therapist’s office, things were frantic. For a while, it was a fun frantic. You moved into your own apartment (you both agreed it was too soon to live together), and you spent as much time as you could together. Between Spencer’s travels and your time commitment to the courtroom, you didn’t have a ton of time, but anything you could get, you took advantage of. Movie nights in on the couch, date nights out to restaurants, mid-day picnics, late night walks, and one of your favorite events yet, clubbing and drinking with his team. You finally got to meet them again, this time on much better terms, and couldn’t help but fall more in love with Spencer seeing how much he loved his team. He would do anything for them, and according to Derek, he looked at you the same way. That’s why you thought it would be a good idea to take the FBI prosecuting job when it was offered to you. You quickly learned that was not the right decision.

“And why is that?” your therapist, Lori, asked.

“I don’t know. I guess working with your significant other is never a good idea,” you shrugged.

“While that is usually true, I’ve seen plenty of successful workplace romances. Is that what you think was the turning point?” Lori prompted.

“I guess. The first thing was how Spencer reacted to me taking the job.”

You thought it would be a nice surprise. You know, like ‘surprise baby, we are going to get to see each other more often’ or something of the like. But when you told Spencer, that was not his reaction at all. He looked shocked, then disappointed.

“What? I thought this would be good news,” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, yes. It is,” he floundered. You knew he was lying, it wasn’t hard to tell. “I’m happy for you.”

Sure, maybe you shouldn't have pushed it, but his disappointment hurt. It felt as if he didn’t want to see and spend more time with you. “Are you? You don’t act like it.”

“I am.”

“What did I do? What is it about me taking this job that doesn’t sit right with you?” It was a reasonable question, in your opinion.

Spencer dismissively shrugged, “It just doesn’t sound like the type of thing you’d be interested in.”

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to remain as calm as you could, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just thought you were the type that ‘liked to stand up for the little guy’ or whatever,” Spencer half mumbled.

You weren’t sure what had gotten his panties in a wad, and the only thing you could think of was, “Did you have a bad case?”

He turned on you, “Oh, come on, Y/N, really?”

This infuriated you even more. “I just can’t come up with another reason as to why you’re being so weird about this. Seriously, Spencer, what’s the problem? Because if it’s not the case, then it’s the job, and I can’t figure out what’s so wrong with that. What’s wrong with that Spencer?” You heard it before he even accused you of it. You knew how your voice sounded when you were in the courtroom speaking in front of a jury, and so did Spencer.

“Don’t interrogate me, Y/N,” he spat, and turned to walk away from you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just answer my questions,” you fired back.

He spun on his heels with a new fire in his eyes you could tell he was trying to douse. “I just thought you would have talked to me about it first, that’s all.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to because I thought this would be good news,” you tried to explain.

“You didn’t think you should talk to me about it first?” Spencer’s voice got higher, as did his anger.

I don’t need to consult you about my life. Don’t try to control me! You kept those thoughts to yourself, instead responding with, “No. It’s my career and I made what I thought would be the best decision.”

“Well if that’s your view on how relationships work, only making the best decision for you, then maybe I need to reevaluate my own decisions.” That one hurt. That comment went straight through your chest, and for a split second, before remembering what was actually going on, you thought that he’d make a really good lawyer, able to make such harsh comments with such a low, icy tone.

He turned to walk away again when you yelled after him, knowing damn well that he was close to a breaking point if you just pushed a little harder, hoping for some answers. “Why don’t you want me in the FBI, Spencer?”

“Because it’s the one place that I feel at home and I don’t need other people getting involved in that!”

You gaped at him. You just stood there and stared at him. Then, without another word, you went to pick up your stuff from off the floor, and marched toward the door. Spencer quickly stopped you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t look at him as you tried to push by him, “You said what you said.” And you both knew what he meant, but didn’t say, too.

“I didn’t mean it,” he tried to remedy the situation.

You looked him dead in the eyes, “Really? So can you look me in the eyes and truthfully tell me that you don’t think I’ll be encroaching on your space if I take this job? Can you tell me that the reason you don’t want me taking this job is not because you enjoy having the FBI as a private place all to yourself away from me, a place that makes you feel at home when apparently I don’t? Can you really tell me those things aren’t true?” His silence was all you needed before you walked out.

“So you walked out?” Lori confirmed.

“The first time,” you answered, your voice a low growl.

“How did you two work that out?” she asked.

“We didn’t talk for about a day or two. I still took the job because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a job. He apologized again and told me some bullshit about being excited for me, just being caught off guard, and we moved past it,” you recited, waving your hand in the air as if that would actually clear the memory from your mind.

“How was it actually working with him?”

“Well, we weren’t exactly working together. I got cases from all over the bureau, so things went back to normal. Sure, it was easier for us to head over to the other’s floor on a break, or go eat lunch together, and things like that, but our time commitments to our jobs were the same as before. The most we interacted during work was when I was prosecuting someone the BAU had caught, and I needed clarification or one of them to testify.”

Lori shifted in her seat, “Did you usually ask Spencer for help with those things?”

“Depends,” you raised your eyebrows quickly, “Did we just fight or not?”

“So the fighting was constant?”

“I guess you could say that,” you huffed. “It went in waves for a while, then got progressively worse.”

“What caused it to get progressively worse?” Lori wondered.

“I didn’t figure this out until later, but it was the anniversary of his girlfriend's death that was the real beginning of the end for us.”

Lori furrowed her brow, “Do you know which anniversary?”

You gave her a dark, tight-lipped smile, “The one-year anniversary.”

“And how long had the two of you been together?” You could see the gears spinning in her head, trying to do the math.

“Eight months.” Her eyes went wide as you saw her put the same pieces together, just as you had. She gave you a curious look, mixed with sympathy, and you nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“Did you talk about this?” she asked.

“Talk wouldn’t exactly be the word I’d use, no,” you quipped. “But we definitely discussed it.”

You found out from Emily. It was an innocent mistake. Spencer had been acting off, keeping to himself more, going to work early, staying super late. Sometimes he slept in the office and didn’t come home at all. Sure, the two of you weren’t ‘living together’ but you spent a healthy portion at the other’s place. Except, then you weren’t.

Spencer had told you about his past with drug abuse, and how his mom was getting worse, so it wasn’t hard for you to put two and two together and jump to the worst conclusion. Of course, while you're fantastic at what you do, and you do rely on certain non-verbal cues to help you out on the job, you aren’t a trained profiler. Luckily for you, you knew a team of them that also happened to know your Spencer, working only a floor above you.

You were worried, so you asked them if they’d noticed anything. They told you that, while they didn’t know his mom was getting worse, they did know he wasn’t back on drugs. Derek had had the same thought and paid extra attention to him, and was confident that wasn’t what was happening. You were desperate, so you asked them if they could think of anything else that could have him acting like this. That’s when Emily suggested something about ‘wait, isn’t it close to the anniversary of Maeve’s … you know.’ You didn’t know, but a lightbulb went off in JJ’s head. She agreed with Emily and said that had to be what was getting him down. When their attention was back on you, they realized that you were absolutely in the dark about whatever they were talking about.

“The anniversary of whose what?” you demanded.

“Oh, uh, forget we mentioned it. I’m sure Spencer will tell you in his own time,” JJ attempted.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “We’re both still talking about Spencer here, right?”

Her, Emily, and Derek passed looks between them before Emily gave you the very short version of what had happened. You were shocked, and honestly, you felt betrayed. You asked them the same questions Dr. Lori had asked you, which only increased the betrayal you felt.

“So you’re saying that Spencer’s girlfriend got killed right in front of him only four months before he came running back to me?” you confirmed. All they could do was look down and nod. You gasped, “Well, that is certainly good information to know.”

You couldn’t stand to be around anyone just then, and started walking away when you heard Derek call after you, “Hey, Y/N, wait.” You were already at the elevator when he jogged up to you. “I know that comes as a bit of a shock,” you raised your eyebrows at him, “Ok, a lot of a shock. But he was hurting and you were the best thing that could have come around at that time.”

“That’s the thing, though. I didn’t just ‘come around.’ He purposely came after me. Those are two very different things.” He was about to interject, but you put up a hand. “I know that he’s a good guy, and I know that he was hurting, is still hurting, but that doesn’t give him any right to toy with other people’s emotion, and other people’s lives.”

“Is that still how you feel?” Dr. Lori asked.

“To an extent, yeah,” you nodded. She looked at you with soft eyes, letting the silence hang between you. You felt like you already knew the answer to the question you were about to ask, but you hoped Lori could provide some sort of confirmation. Confirmation that Spencer didn’t give. “Do you think he was only with me because she died? Do you think the only reason he came back for me, and essentially wrecked my life in the first place, is because the person he truly loves is dead?”

“I cannot tell you what is or was going through Spencer’s mind,” Lori reminded you.

“Ok, well then, in your professional opinion, what do you think?” Again, you were desperate and needed some answers.

“What did Spencer tell you? Have you asked him that question?”

You’d asked him. Of course, that was in the heat of the moment, and you could only remember certain things you both said and probably in the wrong order, but you remember what his response was.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Your voice was surprisingly calm. Usually, you’d be a lot more mad at him, but all those other times you had something to fight for. Something to really be mad about if things went poorly. Now, though, you didn’t know what was left to fight for or get upset over. Without fully acknowledging your own thoughts, you’d already given up.

“Eventually,” Spencer responded.

“I don’t think you were,” you said, sadly. You’d been thinking about how to approach this conversation since you’d found out, analyzing him and the situation, going over all of your thoughts a thousand times before you finally let them all out. “I think that I remind you of a better time. I think that when we were together, that was the first time, and maybe only relationship, that really went right for you. I think that after the pain and grief that you still haven’t fully processed, I seemed like an easy fix. I could fill the void, and somehow, maybe, just maybe, I could transport you back to a time before the pain of the BAU, before the pain of Tobias Hankle, before the pain of Maeve Donovan, and you could pretend like all of that hadn’t happened. But then, you started to realize that things weren’t as perfect as you remember. We are not the same people we used to be, we never will be, and I couldn’t wipe away everything that happened, I only started hindering the good. You lost all of the good you’ve come to depend on, Spencer. I brought you back to a time when you weren’t the genius doctor in the highest unit of the FBI, a time when you weren’t saving people, and hunting criminals. That’s why you wanted the FBI all to yourself, and you did everything in your power to keep me, and your new life at the FBI separate, including Maeve. And you know what else I think? I think that somewhere in that big brain of yours, you knew all of this, too. I think you knew that you were transferring and using me as a temporary fix. But what about me, Spencer? I walked away from an engagement because I thought all of this was sincere. Yes, that was my choice, but you also made the choice to come to me, regardless of your motives. And somehow, I think you knew this was destined to fail. I should have seen it, too.”

“Well, we all made our choices,” Spencer snapped.

You nodded, clenching your jaw at his deflective statement. “Yeah. We did.” You waited for him to leave like he always did, but he didn’t. He just kept standing there. Against your better judgement, you had to ask the question you’d been wanting to ask since you found out about Maeve. “Am I her replacement?”

“What?” Spencer asked. His head snapped up to yours, eye refocusing, and you would have paid anything to know what was going through his mind before you pulled him back to reality.

“Are we only here because you lost her?” Despite your voice cracking, there was a certain power behind your words.

“Why does that matter?” Spencer asked.

Why does that matter? You couldn’t even believe he would ask you something like that, and you opened the floodgates on him. “It matters because it means that you don’t actually want to be with me! It means that you are using me to distract you and make yourself feel better instead of dealing with your shit. I gave up everything for you, just to find out this isn’t real! And what has it cost you, Spencer!”

“How can you say that? I’ve made just as many sacrifices for this relationship as you have!” Spencer yelled back.

“Like what? Name one thing, Spencer!” He stood there in silence. You snarled, “Exactly! The only things you’ve given up were your ‘ownership’ over the FBI, and Maeve, neither of which you willingly sacrificed.”

“Maybe you’re right, then,” Spencer’s voice dropped to that bone-chilling tone, sending a shiver down your spine. “Maybe I’m not cut out for relationships. My past has certainly told me that. So yeah, I guess I did know this would fail going into it. But maybe it failed because I’m with you and not with her.”

You let out a single bitter laugh. “I’m sure that’s the reason, Spencer. I’m sure that you wake up every morning and look at me and wish you could’ve gotten to Maeve just a moment sooner, huh?”

It was like cross examining a suspect on the stand. You find their most sensitive button, and you just keep pushing it until you get a confession. “No. I wish I would have followed through on my deal to take her place.”

Time seemed to stop. The earth had completely halted on its axis, tearing the fabric of your reality out of the ground and sending it flying. It would have hurt less had he simply ripped your heart out of your body and smashed it under the sole of his shoe. You couldn’t stop and think about what you were saying before it flew out of your mouth. “Then I guess you’re real happy you know where to get the drugs that can help you finally do that.”

“Fuck you!” Spencer yanked open the door to your apartment, fished the keys you gave him out of his pocket, and threw them as hard as he could at you. You ducked out of the way and heard the small dent you later found out they made in the wall behind you. “I never want to see you again!”

He slammed the door and that was the last you’d heard of him.

“So yeah, I asked him the question. I’ve thought about that for days on end and I can’t figure out how much of that was the truth, and how much of that was just anger buildup that took over in the moment,” you admitted.

“You said it’s been days since this happened?” Lori confirmed.

“More like weeks.”

“Why’d you decide to come in now?” she wondered.

“I tried dealing with it on my own. It started to distract me from my work, so I decided I needed help figuring out how to move past this.”

“Have you talked to anyone else besides me about this?” When you gave her an odd look, she explained, “I’m just wondering who else, if anyone, is in your support system.”

“Not really. I briefly talked to an old coworker and friend of mine, Ash, but I didn’t talk to them long. We’re both really busy,” you explained. “Normally I would talk to Jordan about this stuff, but…”

“Ahh, yes,” the doctor remembered, “Jordan. How is he?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not really in the habit of reaching out to my ex-fiance about how he’s doing since I broke up with him,” you stated flatly.

“How did the break up go?”

The break up made you question yourself, yet again. You always knew you didn’t deserve Jordan. He was always there for you, through thick and thin, through all your highs and lows. And as a lawyer, there were a lot of those. He could empathize and understand your job and everything that came with it better than anyone. You were both a crying wreck when you broke up with him. He was heartbroken, but took it with such grace that you almost immediately wanted to take it all back. You told him that you loved him, you really did, you still do, but that you didn’t think it was fair to him to be with someone who also had feelings for another. He didn’t push you or ask too many questions, but he did ask why he wasn’t good enough. You couldn’t give him an answer. On paper, he was the perfect guy, and in reality, he was pretty damn close. But you just didn’t feel the same things with him as strongly as you felt them with Spencer. You kept apologizing and he kept crying until he walked you out the door.

“Looking back, how do you feel about that?” Lori asked.

“Well, we all make our choices, right?” The irony was too good not to take advantage of.

Lori gave you a pointed look. “That didn’t answer the question.”

“Because I don’t know how to answer it. I made what I thought was going to be a good decision in the moment, but I just don’t believe that anymore.” Saying that out loud lifted a weight from your shoulders.

“Tell me why you made that decision in the first place,” Lori prompted.

That was an easy question, actually. You thought back to when Spencer first came back to you, asking you out on a date in your office, and couldn’t help but smile a little. “I made that decision because Spencer was my first love. He came waltzing back into my life and, once we’d sorted out the rocky way we’d ended things, it was like no time had passed. He was still my best friend, the nerdy, brilliant, sweet guy that invited me to the library when he wanted to spend time with me. He took me on this endearing date, where he literally pulled out all the stops, and before I knew it, I was quickly falling back in love with him. I don’t know, he just makes me feel all these things that I’ve never felt before or after him. I’ve had strong feelings for others, but there’s nothing like the intoxicating energy of just being around him. It’s like floating and drowning all at the same time, and I-” you stopped abruptly after realizing you were rambling, saying all the things you hadn’t even realized had been rolling around in your head like a hamster ball.

Lori was looking at you with a little smirk on her face. “What?”

Her smile widened just a little, “What do you want, Y/N?” You opened your mouth to respond and she clarified, “What do you really want? No sarcastic quips, as fun as those are to hear.”

You took a deep inhale, “I want things to work out.” It was the first time you admitted that to anyone. You hadn’t even admitted it yourself, not even in your head.

“But..?”

“But I just don’t know if all the good is worth the energy it takes to deal with all the bad. And when things are bad, they get really bad.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N. All couples have problems. Sure, yours are very… unique, but I’ve seen couples get back together after similar or worse fights. What I’ve never seen is a person gush that much about their partner right after that harsh of a break up. I am not here to tell you what your feelings are, and I certainly cannot tell you what Spencer’s are, but if he talks about you the same way you talk about him, I think that the two of you can make things work. There are always going to be lows, and if you later decide that you simply cannot endure them anymore, then that is your right, and you will continue to make what you believe to be the right decision in that moment. But if what you really want is to make things work, then I would say you make the effort to make things work,” she advised.

That was great and all, but you couldn’t even begin to wonder where to start. So you asked, “How?”

She gave you one simple step. “Start by talking to Spencer.”

Love Somebody

@saspencereid @justanothetfangirl