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silvermoongirl10swfics · 3 years ago

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Learning to deal with emotionally crippling pain

For @codywanweek 2021 Day 2: AU (Modern University AU.)

You can also read this fic here on A03.

(The title of the fic will make sense after reading the fic.)

This is set at Manchester Metropolitan University in the UK, where I went to uni. As I wanted to combine the uni I loved going to with one of my favourite ships.

No major warnings, but there is a slight, non-graphic, description of how bodies were buried during the Black Death (this may seem very random, but I don’t want to gross anyone out.)

(I was inspired by @catawampuscorner drawing adorable baby clones in animal onesies, the cuteness now lives rent free in my brain and my brain desperately wanted to add baby clones and baby Jedi in animal onesies to this fic due to their wonderful drawings of the baby clones. So, I have referenced codywan and some other clones being youngsters in animal onesies near the end of this fic.)

Also Wolffe and Fox are twins because I thought of the idea about a month ago and loved it so much.

Cody hefted his kit bag onto his shoulder and nodded in thanks to the bus driver as he stepped off the bus on Oxford Road. He turned hearing a loud thump and rolled his eyes, Fives had, against Cody’s and Rex’s advice, decided to sit on the top deck of the double-decker bus while carrying his heavy rugby kit bag. Unsurprisingly Fives stumbled and hit the wall of the stairs as he tried to walk down the steep steps, his bag over balancing him. Rex threw out an arm to steady their younger brother and then the two of them joined Cody on the pavement.

“We did warn you,” stated Rex with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatever,” griped Fives. Without another word, Fives was walking through All Saints Park, no doubt heading back to the student halls where he shared a flat with his twin Echo and six other first year students.

“I really hope Echo is better soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take Fives in this mood,” sighed Rex shaking his head.

“You and me both,” agreed Cody with a nod of his head at his younger brother.

Cody was the eldest of the four brothers, and was currently in his third and final year of studying his undergraduate history degree at Manchester Metropolitan University. Rex was eleven months younger than him and was in his second year studying law, Echo and Fives were their younger brothers who were twins. The family hadn’t thought that Fives was interested in going to university, which was fine with them as they didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want. But when Echo announced his intention of going to study mathematics at the same university where Cody and Rex were studying, Fives suddenly announced that he was also going to Man Met to study physiotherapy. The twins were in their first year and two years ago, at eighteen, Cody had thought he would be getting some peace from his three younger brothers, in the end he only got one year of peace before his brothers joined him in quick succession. But thankfully he only had to put up with living with them when they were all home for the holidays. As Cody shared a one-bedroom flat with his long-term boyfriend Obi-Wan who had also chosen to study at Man Met, also in his third year, studying English literature. Obi-Wan and Cody had been best friends since their first day at primary school aged four, later confessing their romantic feelings for each other when they were sixteen, both coming down from the stress of getting their GCSE results. They hadn’t actually told each other where they were applying for university, not wanting to influence each other’s decision. But they still ended up at the same university anyway, not that Cody was complaining.

Like Cody, Obi-Wan had not been able to escape his younger brother. Anakin was friends with Fives and Echo as they were the same age, Anakin was in his first year studying engineering at Man Met. It was funny to Cody, because Echo and Anakin’s subjects were in the same faculty, they often saw each other as their lectures and seminars took place in the John Dalton buildings, whereas Fives went to lectures across the main road on the slightly smaller campus in the Brooks Building. Fives had always been protective of Echo, his reasoning being he was the older twin so had to look out for Echo. But after Echo got hurt in a car accident when they were fifteen driving home with their dad, Fives had grown even more protective, somehow blaming himself because he wasn’t there in the car with Echo. The youngest of the four brothers hadn’t been seriously hurt, but the accident had gained him a constant shadow. So, when the twins applied to the university, they looked at the map of the two campuses and picked Oxford Court for their student halls accommodation because it was pretty much in the middle of where the two of them would have their lectures and seminars.

With another look in the direction Fives had gone, feeling a rare moment of relief at seeing his brother walk away. Cody loved his brothers, but because Echo had gotten injured in their last rugby game, he couldn’t take part in practice and it had left Fives in a mood for the past week. Neither Echo, Cody or Rex could seem to talk Fives out of his mood, leading to Cody thinking he may have to call their parents to talk some sense into Fives. But he didn’t want to worry his mum, which is what would happen if Cody had to tell her Fives still wasn’t okay a week after Echo badly spraining his ankle. So, Cody’s only other option would be to call his twin cousins, Wolffe and Fox who were both in their third and final years of studying at the same university in London. Wolffe was studying sport science, while Fox was studying history like Cody, but with more of a focus on medical history while Cody preferred military history.

Wolffe and Fox were the closest cousins Cody and his brothers had, due to their parents all moving to Britain from New Zealand due to his father and uncle getting jobs with the same tech company before Cody, Wolffe and Fox were born. Leaving the rest of the aunts, uncles and cousins back in New Zealand with their grandparents. Cody then reflected, calling the other twins might not be a bad idea. Wolffe would be gruff but caring in talking to Fives and if that failed, Fox would just beat sense into him either verbally or physically. With there being direct trains from London to Manchester, Cody wouldn’t be surprised if Fox came in person to beat some sense into Fives. Fox had no patience for Fives’ protective older brother routine of Echo and that was down to Wolffe being protective of Fox. Which he hated, but to be fair to Wolffe, he was fully justified going by the amount of coffee and lack of sleep Fox was powering through to work on his assignments and dissertation. Despite the fact it was still January and Fox had three months left until he had to hand in his dissertation.

Thinking of dissertations, Cody waved goodbye to Rex and headed towards the cafeteria in the Business School building to get some tea for his boyfriend. Once he acquired the tea in a take away cup, he went next door to the library where Obi-Wan was working on his dissertation, thankful that their university library allowed food and drink as long as it was silent. Fox was insanely jealous as his university library forbade any food or drink to enter the building, meaning Fox was deprived of his precious coffee. Which was why Wolffe pushed Fox to work in the library as often as he could. Cody didn’t mind plying Obi-Wan with tea, because while he could say Obi-Wan was additive to his tea, he didn’t drink any caffeinated tea two hours before going to bed, unlike Fox who was known to drink a mug of coffee before going to bed if Wolffe hadn’t managed to stop him. It was a wonder Wolffe hadn’t gone grey with the amount of time he spent worrying over his twin brother.

Cody scanned his student card to let him past the barriers and started walking up the two flights of stairs to the floor Obi-Wan liked to work on. The library was massive, with its different wings and five floors, but Cody was glad it was so big because it could be divided into silent study areas and group study areas, where you could talk so long as you were quiet. Obi-Wan, like Cody, hated working in complete silence and in their first year they found a nook between some shelves that had a table where they could bring their own laptops to work on their essays together. But were conveniently close to university computers so they could log on to print their work if needed. It was also a space their brothers had been unable to find them in, although Cody was fairly certain Rex knew where he liked to work, but was kind enough to leave him alone. Anakin, Echo and Fives would not be as considerate.

He walked through the doors into the study area and walked halfway into the big room with its rows of computers and shelves of books, until he found Obi-Wan hunched over his notes and two books he was using for his dissertation. Cody silently reminded himself that he was due to meet with his dissertation supervisor tomorrow to check the progress on his second chapter. He placed the cup of tea on the table beside Obi-Wan’s laptop and pressed a kiss onto the mess of copper hair, noting that his boyfriend hadn’t shaved again, making him wonder if Obi-Wan was committing to growing a beard. If he did, it would be because Obi-Wan was fed up of people thinking he was sixteen or seventeen, rather than being almost twenty-one years old, something that delighted Anakin to no end. Obi-Wan slowly sat up and blinked owlishly at him and rubbed a hand over his face. “Rugby practice is over already?” he asked in confusion as he looked at his watch.

Cody snorted in amusement, “thankfully yes.” Obi-Wan had come to the library just after Cody left their flat for practice, that had been two and half hours ago.

Obi-Wan reached for his tea and sighed in pleasure when he sipped on the hot liquid. “Fives still in a mood then?”

“Yes,” he sighed in exasperation as he sat down beside Obi-Wan and putting his kit bag on the floor with a roll of his shoulder.

Raising a knowing eyebrow over the rim of his cup, Obi-Wan asked. “Are you going to call Wolffe and Fox?” Cody nodded in agreement, smiling to himself, happy at how easily Obi-Wan fit into his family. Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe and Fox had all gone through school together. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s dad, Qui-Gon, was a friend of Cody’s parents and often came over for dinner. According to his dad, Cody’s mum and Qui-Gon had been having wine nights when they lamented over their empty nests and how it was unfair how quickly their children were growing up. While Cody’s aunt just laughed at them because Wolffe and Fox had left home for university almost three years before.

They lapsed into silence, and Cody just let himself day dream as he listened to the clack of Obi-Wan’s keyboard. He also ran through a mental list of things he needed to do for his dissertation and thought he could do with another trip down to London to go to the National Archives again for some more primary sources. His phone buzzed and Cody snorted at the text message from Echo.

[Echo] Fives is in SUCH a bad mood! Please help me!

[Cody] Sorry Echo. Rex and I had him for two hours, we need a break.

[Echo] WORST BIG BROTHERS EVER!!!!

[Echo] I hope you marry Obi-Wan so I can adopt him as my favourite older brother.

[Echo] You know what. I’m not waiting until you marry him. He’s my favourite brother now.

Cody chuckled to himself, he couldn’t argue with Echo, Obi-Wan was his favourite person too.

[Cody] What WILL Fives say?

[Echo] Right now I don’t care. He’s driving me INSANE!!!!

[Cody] I was going to call Wolffe and Fox to see if they could help.

[Echo] PLEASE!!! I am BEGGING YOU!!!!

[Echo] You know what?

[Echo] Just skip straight to Fox.

[Echo] And record it. I want to relive that future moment for forever. Fox’s position as my favourite cousin will be secured.

Cody snorted in amusement again, Obi-Wan turned to him in question. So, Cody just showed him the messages and Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, but he blushed slightly. No doubt due to Echo’s comments on Cody marrying Obi-Wan.

“Echo wishing harm on Fives. I never thought I’d see the day,” commented Obi-Wan, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. No doubt remembering the times Fox lost his patience with bullies and idiots they went to school with and just went for them. Their aunt had to give Fox the disapproving lecture, but she also slipped Fox money for standing up to bullies for other kids. So, Fox’s handling of bullies and idiots had never been stopped, only been encouraged.

“Oh, Echo can be pushed to it,” chuckled Cody, recalling the few times Fives had made Echo lose his temper. Echo was a nice and quiet person, which also made him one of those people you did not want to make angry, because when his patience snapped. It snapped. He could be worse than Fox, and that said something.

“By the way, your dad text me. He’s invited me to a family reunion dinner in a month’s time. So, is anyone coming over from New Zealand?” Obi-Wan asked as he started to tidy his books away and turn off his laptop.

Cody nodded. “My grandparents are coming over in three weeks and are staying until the summer as they want to be here for mine, Wolffe and Fox’s graduations. Then a few of the cousins are coming over in the summer.” He smiled to himself; it would be nice to see his family members again. They all saw each other every year, one year Cody and his family would fly out to New Zealand and the next year the family would fly over to Britain for a few weeks. With all of the cousins now at university, it made sorting out reunions easier due to the longer holidays they all had.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with amusement again, “anymore family arguments to look forward to?” he laughed.

“Probably,” Cody sighed as he rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan had come out to New Zealand with him last summer and witnessed some truly spectacular family arguments and rather silly ones as well. The most prominent being about Fox and Echo’s names.

When Fox had been a toddler, he and Wolffe had been put into animal onesies (Cody and his brothers also shared that misfortune with their cousins, but the less said about that the better), Wolffe into a wolf onesie and Fox into a fox onesie. Ever since Fox wanted to be called Fox, as he hated his proper name, the name being Frederick. If anyone ever called him Frederick when he was a small child he bit them, leading to his parents to tell their school when they started that it would be best if they didn’t call Fox Frederick for the safety of their own fingers.

Then when Echo had been four and in school, learning about words that began with the letter E, he heard the word Echo and wanted to call himself that, because he didn’t like being called Eli. Cody’s mum had tried to tell Echo his name was Eli, but Echo said Fox picked his name, so why couldn’t he? Cody’s mum tried her hardest to get Echo to forget about calling himself Echo, seeing as he was named after his mum’s father-in-law Elias and didn’t want to offend him. But Echo just started repeating everything everyone said, until the point their dad begged their mum to just let Echo call himself Echo. Fives didn’t want to be left out, and chose the nickname Fives, but he wasn’t involved in the arguments because he let their grandmother still call him Felix. Echo and Fox on the other hand, both refused to answer to their given names. And Obi-Wan had witnessed their grandmother once again getting annoyed when Echo and Fox didn’t answer her when she called them Eli and Frederick. That was also the visit where Obi-Wan learnt just who Echo and Fox inherited their stubbornness from. Grandpa Elias was not offended and found the whole thing hilarious and continued to congratulate Echo on his name every time he saw Echo. Cody was also convinced, his grandmother only continued the argument for the sake of it, he had seen her handwriting in birthday cards calling Echo and Fox by their chosen names. But she still wrote Eli and Frederick on family Christmas cards, again probably just for the drama.

But some uncles and aunts were not happy with Echo and Fox changing their names, albeit not legally, because other cousins began following their lead. Namely their four cousins who were all siblings (two sets of twins), Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech. The four of them changing their names and even happily calling themselves the Bad Batch at family gatherings much to the ire of their mother. Fives was blamed for their collective nickname, as Obi-Wan found out and thought it was hilarious. The Bad Batch had invited Echo to play with them when they were small, and Fives who had not been invited to play had been jealous and called them the Bad Batch, the four of them had loved it and adopted it as their group name.

Obi-Wan started to laugh quietly to himself as he put his laptop away in his bag. At Cody’s questioning look he smiled and said. “I’m just wondering who will be the first to say something to disrupt family dinner. Either you, your brothers or your cousins will say something. You have done ever since the first family dinner I was invited to when I was five.”

Cody smirked to himself and nodded, “honestly I’m expecting it to be Fox again. You know he deals with stress in the weirdest ways.”

“You mean like putting everyone else off their food?” teased Obi-Wan, his eyes glinting at the memory of the last dinner everyone had together.

Over the four-week long Christmas holiday, Cody’s parents had hosted numerous family dinners, wanting to spend as much time together as possible. As it was understood with Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox graduating university later that year, they may not get to come home as often anymore. Also, as Cody’s uncle and aunt lived next door to them and Obi-Wan lived five houses further down the road, it was very easy for Cody’s uncle and aunt, Wolffe, Fox, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin to join their family for dinner. Which also meant, Cody and Obi-Wan had to suffer the embarrassment of watching Qui-Gon and Cody’s mum tearfully looking at photos of them growing up, mourning the loss of their ‘little ones’. While Cody’s aunt sipped on her glass of red wine and cackled at them, saying it was better to have both her kids leave the nest at once, as she didn’t have to go through kids moving out more than once.

Cody had also been horrified to learn there existed a photo of him in an animal onesie after all, and to make it worse, he was four in the photo. He was at school, but because his mum wanted a picture of all her boys in their animal onesies, he had been put into his old lion onesie (mane included on the hood) that was getting too small for him. But it had interested him to see it was a group photo of all of them sat on the living room floor. Obi-Wan was also in the photo, in a onesie that resembled the fictional varactyl creature he had been obsessed with when he was four. His unimpressed look matching Cody’s, in the photo both of them had their arms crossed as they glared at their parents off camera. Wolffe and Fox were also in the photo, but too busy pulling on each other’s hoods, Wolffe almost taking off one of Fox’s onesie’s ears. Rex, at three, was happily beaming at their mum in his elephant onesie that included a small trunk attached to the hood. Leaning against Rex on his left was Anakin, who at two, was too busy trying to eat his own foot as he sat in his dog onesie. On Rex’s right was the little twins, Echo beaming at the camera in his giraffe onesie as he lifted a hand up to squeeze the felt face of the giraffe attached to the hood and Fives, in a moose onesie (seriously where had his parents found these?), was busy trying to grab one of his felt antlers and eat it. Apparently, their parents had kept all of the onesies, what they planned to do with them Cody couldn’t guess.

But while the onesie group photo had been embarrassing, it hadn’t put anyone off their food. No, that came when Cody’s dad asked all of them how university was going. Everyone listened as one by one, all the boys explained what they had been doing. The adults patiently listened as Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox talked about their dissertations and skilfully manoeuvring the conversation so as to avoid third year meltdowns as the families had taken to calling their tearful, stressed rants. While Rex, Anakin, Fives and Echo stared at them in dawning horror as they realised what was in their immediate future. Fox had given Cody advice on where to find primary sources, as Fox was writing his ten-thousand-word dissertation on the Black Death and at this point, was basically an expert on where to find medical documents from varying time periods. Which was immensely helpful for Cody because his dissertation was on the treatment of shell shock in the First World War.

Dinner seemed to then settle, with all the boys commenting on funny or interesting things they had heard at university. When Fox piped up, “I was reading a chapter for my dissertation when the author commented that they buried people who had died of the Black Death by lying down a layer of bodies, then a layer of soil, another layer of bodies, more soil, more bodies and then the final layer of soil. It was interesting that the author used the analogy of the bodies been buried like how you make a lasagne.”

Everyone stopped, many of the people gathered around the table stared at Fox, with forks paused in the air. Fox, oblivious continued to eat his dinner with a smile on his face. Which was lasagne. Wolffe just shook his head and sighed in exasperation as he stopped eating his portion of lasagne and instead reached for a piece of garlic bread. Obi-Wan, taking interest in the analogy, was asking Fox if he had come across any other analogies like it. Rex, Echo and Fives dropped their forks and looked at their food in faint disgust. Qui-Gon and Anakin, who normally didn’t find anything disgusting, looked down at the lasagne on their plates in muted horror. Cody’s parents and uncle just sighed, with his uncle massaging his forehead in exasperation, while Cody’s aunt lifted her wine glass up and saluted Fox with it before taking a sip (Fox was a lot like his mother). Cody raised an eyebrow at his cousin, Fox smirked and then reached for the serving dish in the centre of the table. “Oh, no one else wants anymore? Guess I’ll finish the lasagne up then,” Fox stated with a mock innocent look on his face. Wolffe just sighed again and thumped his head down onto the table. Leaving Cody with the impression that Fox was hungry and saw how quickly the food was disappearing and decided to take matters into his own hands.

As Cody and Obi-Wan walked out of the library holding hands, Cody turned to Obi-Wan and smirked. “It is safe to say, lasagne will not be on the menu.”

Obi-Wan laughed loudly as they made their way into the cold air outside, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Obi-Wan also admitted that neither his father nor Anakin, had been able to eat lasagne since that dinner. Anakin had seen lasagne being served for lunch at the university one day and had practically fled the cafeteria.

Together they walked to the bus stop that was less than a minute walk from the library and sat in contented silence as they travelled from campus on the short bus journey to their flat. Their shoulders knocked gently together as they swayed as the bus pulled in and out of bus stops. Their hands were still clasped together, and Obi-Wan was looking out of the window with a smile on his face as he watched people go about their day. Cody found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s face, watching as his eyes crinkled as he smiled at the sight of a giggling child play peekaboo with their younger sibling. The bright winter sun turned Obi-Wan’s copper hair into flames and it was a sight that always memorised Cody without fail. It was the sight that led to four-year-old him talking to Obi-Wan on their first day at school because he had never seen someone with the same-coloured hair as Obi-Wan before. Cody only realised they had reached the bus stop they needed when Obi-Wan pressed the button to alert the driver to stop. He reached down for his kit bag and swung it up onto his shoulder, they walked off the bus, thanked the driver and continued walking while holding hands. Obi-Wan began to talk about a book he had had to read for one of his modules and while Cody never heard of the book before, he enjoyed seeing how excited Obi-Wan was about it.

Once they got inside their flat, Obi-Wan put his bag, that contained his laptop and some books, on the floor by the door and went into the kitchen. Cody watched him for a moment, glad to see Obi-Wan was distracted making them both some lunch. Cody sat at their table and turned his laptop on and logged into the website where he was creating a photobook of photos of himself and Obi-Wan throughout their lives as a birthday present. There were hundreds of photos of them together over the years they had known each other, there were photos of primary, secondary and sixth form last days. Seeing how they had changed in those years was endearing and funny at the same time. Cody caught Obi-Wan looking over at him and Cody playfully tilted his laptop screen away from Obi-Wan’s view, not that his boyfriend could see it from where he was anyway. Obi-Wan smiled and then turned back to the sandwiches he was making. Obi-Wan knew he was getting his birthday present, just as Cody was aware Obi-Wan was also organising his birthday present, as Obi-Wan’s birthday was two days before Cody’s.

Cody checked through the photobook one last time and then seeing that everything was as he wanted it, he clicked order and waited for the confirmation email to arrive. Once it had, he closed his laptop down and smiled as Obi-Wan, at that moment, walked up to him and handed him a plate with his sandwich and an apple.

“I love you,” Cody said with a smile.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly, “ah yes. You only love me for my sandwich making skills.”

“You caught me!” chuckled Cody as he held his hands up in defence. They shared a smile and then both began eating their sandwiches in earnest. They chatted about friends from home who had gone to other universities or who went into work, the friends they had made in Manchester, the antics of crazy younger brothers and they also talked about if they wanted to do a Masters degree in their subject and if they did, where should they go? As it wasn’t a question about if they would go together, even if Obi-Wan decided to do a Masters and Cody didn’t, he was still going to move to whichever city Obi-Wan chose to go to for his Masters. But Cody was also liking the idea of doing a history Masters himself. “We could go to London. Wolffe and Fox are both going to do a Masters, we could go to uni with them.”

Obi-Wan frowned at him in amusement. “I thought you loved living in Manchester.”

“I do,” agreed Cody. “But I also want some peace from my brothers.” He added with a faked whining tone.

His boyfriend chuckled and then said. “You could apply to University of Manchester. So, you can stay in the city, but be in a different university to your brothers.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop them just turning up on Uni of’s campus,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t even think moving to the moon would stop his brothers from turning up to inconvenience him.

Obi-Wan just chuckled to himself as he shook his head, having to admit that going to Uni of would not stop Rex, Fives and Echo from turning up to see Cody. Within three weeks of starting the academic year, they had already worked out what rooms Cody had his seminars in and at what time they finished, so they could stand outside and wait for him. Despite Cody never once showing them his timetable.

After lunch, Cody began looking through some books for information he could add to his dissertation, while Obi-Wan turned his laptop on to work on one of his assignments. At the sound of an exasperated sigh, Cody looked up with one raised eyebrow to find Obi-Wan glaring at his laptop screen. “Problem?” he prompted lightly.

His boyfriend rolled his eyes and stated, “I hate this. We have a dissertation and other essays we need to complete that count towards our final degree. But then we are asked to write a two-thousand-word essay on the skills we have learnt doing our English degree and how those skills can help us in the workplace. While also having to give examples of jobs that use and need those skills.” Obi-Wan growled in frustration, “it is so pointless, but we have to do it otherwise we can be penalised if we don’t. But it’s wasting our time, we have other more important things to do.”

Cody grimaced and then reached out to squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand. “I totally get your frustration. We have been asked to do the exact same thing.”

Obi-Wan just groaned and thunked his head on the table, “I hate this. This is stress I do not need.” Cody smiled to himself and with his free hand, he ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp with his nails.

When Obi-Wan had relaxed, Cody recalled the lecture when he had been told about the assignment and how the career’s department guest lecturer and one of his usual history lecturers asked for people to give examples of skills, they had learnt doing their degree. He must have laughed to himself, because Obi-Wan was turning his head, leaving his face resting against the table top, and gave him an unimpressed glare. “Are you laughing at my pain?”

“No,” soothed Cody, brushing the hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Just remembering what Bly said in our lecture about the skills we have learnt doing a history degree.”

“Care to share? It might help me out,” asked Obi-Wan.

Cody smirked, “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain.”

There was a pause, and then Obi-Wan was laughing, his shoulders shaking as he lifted his head up from the table and instead rested it against Cody’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s a good one. I wonder if I could get away with using it?” he mused.

“I have no idea. But like you, I am tempted to use it,” stated Cody, happy to see a bit of life back in Obi-Wan’s eyes. There was nothing more depressing that having to complete a pointless assignment when you had a hundred other things to do that actually mattered for your degree.

They made the collective decision to stop working for the rest of the day, they were both mentally tired and decided they could do with a break. So, they found a film to watch, which led to another film, which led to another, until it was time for them to eat dinner. After they had shared the cooking, eaten and then shared the washing up, they decided to have an early night. Seeing as they both had nine am lectures on campus and arranged to meet in the library afterwards before Cody’s meeting with his dissertation supervisor.

As they stretched out on their bed, Cody pulling Obi-Wan to half lay on top of him, their legs tangled together. Despite the early time of the evening, the warmth and the presence of each other led them both to become drowsy and their eyes flickered heavily.

“Good night Cody,” yawned Obi-Wan, his jaw cracking at the force of the yawn.

“G’night Obi. Love you,” Cody breathed out on a sigh, his eyes closing as he felt himself begin to drift.

“Love you Code,” mumbled Obi-Wan as he pressed his face into the crook of Cody’s neck. With his nose pressed into Obi-Wan’s hair, Cody pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead and felt a kiss pressed against his neck in return. With a smile on his face, Cody drifted off into sleep, where university stress faded away until it captured his attention tomorrow, but for now, he was able to sleep peacefully with his boyfriend in his arms.

End note:

I would draw the photo of all the boys in their onesies, but alas I cannot draw so let the image live on in our imaginations.

Also I really enjoyed writing this AU, so if anyone wants to see more from it (including Rex, Fives, Echo, Wolffe, Fox and Anakin) let me know!

I went to Manchester Metropolitan University and as I loved it there so much, I chose to make it the setting for my AU for codywanweek. The road, buildings, halls and park are real places at the university and writing this fic has just made me want to go back there. I couldn’t come up with a degree for Cody so I just gave him my degree and dissertation focus (so yes there does exist a 10,000-word dissertation on the treatment of shell shock in WWI). At MMU we did call the University of Manchester Uni of, to differentiate between the two universities.

The Black Death lasagne analogy does actually exist in a historical book somewhere. I didn’t actually read it, but one of my flatmates in first year, who also did history, did. He was revising for one of our exams and he excitedly burst into the shared kitchen, saw me and geeked out over the funny analogy, we laughed about it, about how it was such a random analogy to use. (But after a few years I still remember it, so I guess it’s useful.) But then one of our other flatmates, who wasn’t studying history, turned around and complained at us, because she was in the process of making lasagne for her dinner. So, the reactions to Fox’s gleeful explanation of the analogy are based on truth. Our flatmate didn’t want to eat her dinner because of us. As I was writing this fic, the analogy popped back into my head and I felt it would be such a Fox thing to say.

Cody’s line of “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain” during a career’s lecture. Is something that I heard said in a career’s lecture I had to sit through in my second year. So again, something else in this fic that is based on truth.

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #codywan #star wars fic #day 2: AU #modern university au #commander fox #commander wolffe #captain rex #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #anakin skywalker

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sparklemichele · 5 years ago

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Kissing On My Tattoos Part 8

KOMT Masterlist

Everything was a blur. People started to fill up your bedroom as Calvin called family and Mary the PR coordinator. They were trying to talk to you to make you feel better, but you only heard noise. Mary called all major smut publications and internet news source and told them Tom Hardy will sue them if they chose to publish the pictures. Your phone was ringing off the hook as Charlotte had also leaked your number and people were calling for comments. By the end of the day it looked like everything would be alright and you guys were ahead of the situation when Calvin got a Google alert. He gasped when he looked at the alert. An online publication not caring about the warning, published the photos. You wanted to die. The pictures were now for everyone to see. Tom called you immediately.

“I’m sorry love. I will go after that site with everything I got. I’m also moving out. Charlotte knows she fucked up. Do you want to press charges?”

“No Tom she is pregnant. I don’t want her having your baby in jail.” You sighed with fatigue.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. What’s done is done. I’m just tired of the whole situation.”

Your next call was your boss who in the most tactful way told you that you were fired. You knew you would be if those pictures were leaked. You had no idea what you were going to do for income. You were glad you had a hefty savings to get you through until you could find another job. You would also if necessary, lean on Tom for financial help. As the day came to an end you crawled in bed holding your stomach. Calvin asked if you wanted to see the pictures and you told him no. Mary had already reached out and told them to take them down or Tom would sue. By the end of the day they were down but it did not matter. What was once on the internet stays on the internet. No telling how many people had saved the photos to their phone. You closed your eyes and cried yourself to sleep.

Months later

“It’s really nice Tom.” You smiled into the Facetime screen as Tom showed you around his new flat, he rented. He and Charlotte was officially separated but that didn’t stop her from calling you and yelling obscenities. You had to change your number twice due to her. You had not really looked for a job as you were soon going to give birth and you wanted to stay home with your baby girl. You were pleasantly surprised that you did get a few offers. You guess some magazines like scandals. Maybe it would draw more readers. You told them you will began talks after you had your baby. You smiled as Woody jumped on Tom’s lap as soon as he sat on his new couch. He had come to the states twice since he left but you still missed him immensely.

“I’m going to get someone to come decorate the room for our little girl. Charlotte said she doesn’t want the baby over here without her supervision.”

“Well she has that right.” You told him. “Make sure you ask me first before you and the designer make any decisions on her room.”

“I will. When will you visit London?”

“I have to get approval from my doctor. I have an appointment in a couple of weeks.”

“Ok. I’ll call you later. I drunk a shit ton of water and need to hit the loo.”

You laughed as you ended the Facetime call.

_____________________________________________________________

Your doctor gave you permission to visit across the ocean, but they advise to only stay a week. You were dangerously close to your due date. You called Tom to tell him the happy news and when you would be arriving, but he had tears in his eyes when he answered the Facetime.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You asked panicked.

“Woody died.” Tom sniffed and wiped tears from his face.

“Oh, sweetheart I am so sorry. I’m catching a flight out tomorrow to see you. Will you be okay till then?”

Tom nodded as fresh tears ran down his face. You knew how much Woody meant to Tom and you knew the loss of his beloved dog devastated him. You were glad you were going to see him tomorrow as he should not be alone. You comforted him the best you could, and he seemed better once you both hung up. You were glad you were heading to the UK tomorrow.

_____________________________________________________________

You and Calvin bickered as you both carried an army of luggage through the airport. You were not surprised to see the paps following you. You ignored their invasive questions. You were glad for first class as you can stretch your aching feet. Your ankles were swollen, and you were so uncomfortable and always hot. You made yourself comfortable as best you could, ignored Calvin’s yapping and went to sleep for most of the flight.

Tom himself met you at the airport. You saw the look of surprise when he saw Calvin with you. You might have forgot to mention that detail to him. You knew London’s press can be ruthless and you wanted your best friend with you. He greeted Calvin with a hug and pulled you in a tight embrace.

“You look so damn beautiful.”

“Thank you. How are you feeling?” You asked caressing his cheeks. You heard the shutters of the camera, but Calvin stood in their direct line of sight.

“I’m better since you are here.” Tom grabbed your luggage and escorted you to his car. Once safely inside and on his way to his apartment you asked where he buried Woody.

“I buried him in the backyard. I plan on staying at the apartment awhile.”

Finally, at his new apartment Tom was excited to show you the baby room. You had made all executive decisions on how the room would look.

“Calvin you can take the guest room.”

“Obvi.” Calvin snide rolling his eyes. Tom chose to ignore him and took you to the baby’s room. It was breath taking. You had the Disney Princess theme with the majority being Tiana from The Princess and the Frog.

“It’s beautiful Tom!” You gave him a hug and a kiss on the lips. Tom gave you a toothy grin. Tom’s cell rung and he excused himself to answer it. You busied yourself in your daughter’s room looking at all the stuff he brought. Your child would not want for anything. You sat in the rocking chair he brought and rocked yourself.

“This is cute!” Calvin squealed when he walked in the room.

“It is isn’t it. I love it.”

Tom entered the room. “That was my mum. She wants us over for dinner.”

You tried your best to hide your lack of desire to have dinner with his parents. You knew you would have to meet them eventually, but you were hoping it would not be this trip. You must have not done a good job hiding your emotions because Tom said you didn’t have to go.

“I will go. I need to meet them eventually. I just know how much they love Charlotte.”

“It will be ok. They know how much I love you and will not do anything to upset me.”

“Ok.” You got up from the rocking chair.

“Show me the rest of the place.” You told Tom taking his hand. Tom was all smiles as he showed you and Calvin his new home.

____________________________________________________________

You were a nervous wreck on the way to his parent’s house. You wish you could take something for your anxiety. They seemed pleasant enough as they greeted you and Calvin and escorted you to their living room.

“Have a seat while I finish up in the kitchen.” Tom’s mother Elizabeth told you as she eyes your stomach. You found you and Calvin were not the only guest as Tom hugged a man that was already in the living room.

“Y/N, Calvin this is my friend Greg. Greg this is Y/N and Calvin.”

Greg shook Calvin’s hand and hesitantly shook yours. You could tell instantly he was not a fan of yours. You had a feeling this will be a long dinner. Greg held a conversation with Calvin and Tom and ignored you. You just sat back willing yourself not to get a headache. Maybe you should not have come. Tom’s father Chips came in the living room telling you all dinner was ready. You sighed as you knew you were leaving one torturous situation for another. You sat between Tom and Calvin. You needed the shield of the two men in your life you loved.

“So, you are having a girl I hear.” Chips directed at you.

“Yes, we are.” Tom answered for you. You all engaged in as pleasant but strain conversation.

You were starting to become very self-conscious the way Tom’s mother was looking at you. You wondered did she give Charlotte the same stare down when she got with Tom. Tom and Charlotte also got together due to infidelity so why the fuck was she giving you the side eye and not her son. You noticed Greg was side eyeing you too. Chips was the only one who seemed genuinely happy for you and Tom. You were seriously uncomfortable during dinner. You were ready to go and told Tom you were tired. Tom relayed to his parents that he needed to get you home.

“No dessert?” Elizabeth asked eyeing you suspiciously.

“No mum we need to go.” Tom told her as he got up from the table.

“Well let me pack you some. Maybe you can eat it later.” Elizabeth got up from the table and headed to the kitchen. You got up also and told Tom you will be waiting in the living room. You needed to breathe. You sat on the couch and let out a long sigh. You closed your eyes and rubbed your belly.

“I saw your nudes. Not classy at all.”

Your eyes opened to find Greg in the living room. You let out another sigh.

“What do you want?” You were done biting your tongue and trying to be nice.

“I don’t think you and Tom should be to together. It’s not right.”

You got up from the couch and walked up to Greg.

“Does Tom know how you feel? Did you tell him you were looking at nude pictures of the mother of his child?”

“The whole world has most likely seen those pics.” Greg defended.

“You didn’t answer my question. You are his friend. You should not have clicked on the pictures!” You noticed your voice was raising. “What’s going on here?” Tom asked walking into the living room holding a plastic food container. Calvin walked in too carrying a container as well.

“Nothing.” Greg quickly said as he backed up away from you.

“Y/N?” Tom looked at you. “Your voice was raised. Did he say something to you?” You can see Tom getting upset as he looked at Greg.

“No. Everything is fine Tom.” You lied. Tom looked back at Greg and Greg gave Tom a hug to reassure him.

Fuckin asshole!

Calvin eyes you with pursed lips. He knew something was up. Tom’s parents entered the living room to say goodbye.

“It was nice meeting you.” Elizabeth said giving you a strain hug. Why did she even bother you thought to yourself. Chips hug was more genuine, and he made you smile. Tom hugged his parents as you and Calvin eased your way to the front door.

“You have to tell me what happen.” Calvin whispered in your ear. You nodded. Greg walked up to Calvin and shook his hand.

“It was nice meeting you mate.” He said. He looked at you and extended his hand. You ignored it, turned around and opened the door to exit the house. Tom was coming up behind Greg and did not notice the exchange.

_____________________________________________________________

You sighed with relief once you all were heading back to Tom’s place.

“I know something went on with you and Greg. Are you going to tell me?” Tom asked looking over at you quickly before his eyes were back on the road.

“No.” You told him. Tom started to interject but you told him you did not want to talk about it, and he let the matter go for now. You turned your head to look out the window. You could not help but smile as you knew if you told Tom he would go off on Greg. It felt good to know you could hurt Greg if you wanted to. You would hold on to what transpired between you two until you needed it. Tom grabbed your hand and kissed the back of your hand. You turned around and looked at him.

“I love you.” You told him squeezing his hand.

“I love you too.” He kissed your hand again and your smile widened.

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#Tom Hardy #tom hardy fic #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy x reader #kissing on my tattoos #Komt #sparklemichele writes #sparklemichele

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qqueenofhades · 5 years ago

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Hi there. I've been scrolling through your "school stuff" tag but thought I'd ask directly - how did you find the transition to actually moving outside of the U.S. for your PhD? I'm looking at something similar and I'm wondering about your experience with the logistics (finding somewhere to live, visa, etc!). Thanks in advance, and congrats on being a doctor!

Oh lord. Why would you do that to yourself? I feel like that tag is mostly just intense kvetching, bogglingly obscure nitpicking complaints, and existential despair, and/or yelling at various institutions and/or people who could not do their god damn jobs. If you have read that and still actually want my advice, I salute you. I’m presuming you’re asking in regard to the UK, since it’s the only experience I can speak on, so hopefully that’s applicable?

In my case, I studied in the UK for a year as an undergraduate, at Oxford, so I was already familiar with the process (at least somewhat) when it came time to do it again for the PhD. Upfront, we must acknowledge the ugly deformed rabid elephant in the room that is Brexit, and the idiotic reform of UK immigration policy currently ongoing. Long story short, they seem to think they can function without low-skilled migration, that the domestic UK workforce will just happily lark off to do the jobs that working-class EU migrants have been doing, that this won’t totally bomb-crater the NHS, that they can run a country by basically only allowing in PhDs in STEM making over £30,000 a year, etc… so yes, this is a complete joke of an immigration policy and it’s what happens when you elect floppy haired xenophobic douchewads and their nightmare party as prime minister! ANYWAY, they’re introducing a points-based system from 2021, which may not affect you for an application under Tier 4, but UK immigration policy is going to have a lot of very stupid reforms and you’ll want to keep on top of those. If you have an offer in hand from a UK university, it is made somewhat easier, but you’ll still need to budget for processing costs, an NHS subsidy paid in for every year you will be there (something like $300/year), and a trip to a UK visa office to have your fingerprints and biometric information taken. If you don’t live near one, that will be travel expenses and so forth. You then have a temporary visa issued for first entry into the country, and a Biometric Residence Permit which you pick up at your university.

That, at least, was the process the last time I applied for a student visa, and it may all have changed by the time you do it. As noted, there are a lot of upfront visa costs, so you’ll want to be aware of those. You need a number of supporting documents, including offer of study, proof of income or ability to financially support yourself (since most Tier 4 visas either don’t let you work or only work a limited number of hours), proof of English proficiency (as a native English speaker/person from an English-speaking country, you won’t need this), and so on. You can’t start the process before you have the offer, but you’ll want to start it as soon as possible afterward, because it can take several months, and obviously needs to be done before you can travel. You will also want to open a UK bank account as soon as you arrive, which can be done once you have your residential address and a certificate from the student services office at your university verifying that you are in fact a student there. It’s pretty difficult to pay out of non-UK accounts, at least for monthly/recurring transactions, and there are international fees. You will also want a UK phone. I still have my UK phone/phone number despite my current hiatus in America, since most carriers offer free or low-cost roaming in Europe (though subject to change with EU trade negotiations), which is nice. I pay only a little extra to have Global Roaming in North America, so I can still use my phone as if I’m in the UK. If you’re planning to be traveling, this is a nice perk to have.

As far as finding programs goes, I’m sure I don’t need to give you advice on what you’re interested in and where you’re looking. Obviously, universities in the UK are grouped as “Oxford and Cambridge” and “everyone else,” though there are also rankings within those. I have been at both of these; Oxford as an undergrad, and then I did my PhD at a large public university in the North that ranks within the top 10 in the UK. The North will be much lower, living-cost wise (actually, if you can swing it, just… don’t do it in London, the cost of living in London is out of control. Of course, if the program you really have your heart set on is in London, then go for it, but just be aware of what you’re getting into). It’s also a rule of thumb that you don’t go anywhere for a PhD unless they’re paying you. Don’t self-fund a PhD, it’s just too expensive, and any decent university will give you some kind of financial stipend. I had a scholarship that covered three years of full tuition at international rate, which was good, though I had to take out some living-cost loans. So if you’re trying to decide between two programs that have both accepted you, a situation I was also lucky enough to be in, it sounds crass, but: take the money. One university had already offered me the tuition/scholarship, while the other had accepted me but wasn’t sure about funding. So I took the one that paid the scholarship. You need every penny you can get. You will be comically, absurdly, unbelievably broke as a graduate student. I was looking back on it like “wow I really lived for four years on BUTTFUCK NOTHING.” It is not for the faint of heart; you will have financial stress along with academic pressure, and while I was lucky enough to have generous friends and family contributing to my living costs, I still barely scraped through. It is something you should be aware of.

I don’t know if you’ve studied in the UK system before (I’m assuming not), but the structure for a PhD is much less determined than in the American system. It will also vary from university to university, so it’s worth establishing contact with a potential faculty supervisor to ask questions and refine your project proposal. I made contact with my eventual supervisor at my PhD university before I actually applied there; I gave him my (much too broad and pretty unrefined) project proposal and what I was interested in, and he helped me tailor it into something that could be done in a feasible time frame and which would make use of his expertise and contribute to the field. Whatever you’re thinking about pitching as a thesis topic, you probably need to make it more specific. I don’t know what field you’re in; I’m a humanities/history person, obviously, so the rule always seems to be WRITE MORE, INFIDEL. But the point is, the UK system has much less structured time, and basically relies on you to have the self-motivation to go out and conduct the research and write it up, and if you’re someone more used to rigid requirements and classes and so forth, you might find it a little hands-off. If you’re like me and can just be set loose in your field of interest and do your own thing, you’ll like it. I feel like anyone who is serious enough about their subject to want to do a PhD has to be primarily self-motivating, but some people function better with clear guidelines, and those are not always forthcoming. I can’t count the number of times I wished my supervisors would just TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK TO DO, but they usually highlighted something and had me work to figure out how exactly to fix it. They weren’t negligent or uncaring or unsupportive, and the project became much better as a result, but yes, it’s on you to do, and it can again be frustrating.

As far as living, I didn’t try to rent a flat from afar, sight unseen, in my first year. I just registered for postgraduate campus housing, and lived with four predictably horribly messy roommates (why???!) before I managed to escape and rent a private flat for the next three years. You will need a guarantor with a UK address (i.e. not your parents in America) to sign on the lease agreement, especially if you fall below a certain income threshold, and go through the usual background checking and approval. If you want to have the place to yourself, it will be, as noted, much cheaper to find something you can afford in the North and not-London in general, though southern England and the London commuter belt will all be expensive. If you’re okay living with roommates, or you make friends during your program, it might work to room together and share costs, but I am a pathological introvert and don’t like people, so I lived by myself.

Anyway. Right now, I am in the second round of applications for a Big Deal UK postdoctoral award, which would be for three years starting this fall if I got it, at another high-ranking large public university in the south of England. (So yes, everything that I just said about how much it costs to live in London/London suburbs is me playing myself). I would be applying for a Tier 2 visa (i.e. the permanent/settlement track/full-time work visa) if I got this, which would be another barrel of laughs and different requirements from a Tier 4. That is definitely unhatched chickens which we can’t count yet, as this is a highly competitive/prestigious award and there is absolutely no guarantee that I would get it, but it would mean that I would go through the international moving/visa application process for a third time, so I would once again become too unfortunately familiar with whatever bullshittery is happening now. Le sigh.

I don’t know if any of that is helpful; hopefully so. Let me know if you have more questions, and good luck.

#school stuff #anonymous #ask

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hollandroos · 6 years ago

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How Could I Not? | Seven

Playlist | Wattpad | Series masterlist

Summary: You and Tom are only supposed to be friends... friends who sometimes take things a step further and friends who can’t seem to spend longer then a few days apart. But that can all change with a positive pregnancy test and Suddenly you have to work together more then ever to prepare for the new life you created. But is it really that easy?

Words: 3361

Warnings: Lots of talk of adoption. Please don't read if that is a sensitive topic for you and hold back any nasty comments until you read future chapters, thank you!!

Please remember to reblog/comment/send an ask if you enjoyed this!!

Read the previous chapter here!

It wasn’t really anyone's fault that you forgot there was food in the oven – what, with the gentle tune of the Beatles playing overtop of a chorus of everlasting laughter between the two of you, not to mention the snoring dog in the corner of the room. Something was bound to happen – it was you and Tom, for crying out loud.

“Dance with me,”

Tom says it as a statement, not a question. He wants – no, he needs you to dance with him. He needs to feel his arms wrapped securely around your waist, to feel your feet move in time with his. It was so cliche, really, but Tom lived for cliche.

He was the type of go out of his way to surprise his love with roses on his way home from work, one for every time he’d wanted to send a quick ‘I love you’ text that day but hadn’t been able to. The type to spend hours perfecting the best meal he could muster up and additionally, plate it with a glass of the best wine he could afford. The type to kiss in the rain, if he had the chance.

You open your mouth in protest, the smell of the cheesy pasta dish wafting around the kitchen. “The dinner–”

“Dance with me.” Tom all but smiles, words slipping from his mouth with such ease and suddenly you’re putty in the palm of his hand. And you don’t hesitate to mould into his body, allowing yourself to fall into him.

“Why did you want to dance with me?” You chuckle, leaning your head against him. You give in, allowing Tom to take you wherever he wants to go. That seemed to be nowhere and you find yourself swaying gently in the comfort of the area between the kitchen and the living room.

Tom shrugs his shoulders. “Jus’ felt like it.”

You hum, breathing in the scent of his cologne. You’d learnt that it was some kind of axe spray that he had cans of hidden around the apartment – such as in the kitchen cupboards and tucked away in his car. The song finishes and a new one begins, one Tom wasn’t aware of but the last thing he wants to do is complain about the pre-nineties tune when he has you right there, humming gently along with the lyrics.

Your eyes are closed and you look at peace as he rocks you two back and forth, feet both stuck to the floor as you sway.

His heart beats prominently in his chest and it’s nearly impossible not to count every beat. Every beat tells you that he’s there with you, reminding you of the fact that you’re beyond lucky to have him. And funny enough, Tom was thinking the same about you.

Your peace is short-lived, however, as mere minutes later there’s a horrid – god awful smell and you can’t even hide your disgust with your face in his chest.

“What’s that smell?” Tom mumbles, screwing his nose up.

And you want to ask the same question – before you gasp, eyes widening and you push yourself away from Tom making him stumble back slightly. For a few moments, the brunette stands in confusion before he himself is hit with the realisation.

“The food, Tom, we burnt it!” You exclaim, rushing to the oven. You hardly have time to slip the oven mitt over your hands but that doesn’t matter – because the second you open the oven door black smoke drifts out, flooding the kitchen. “Fuck, I told you we were going to burn it.” You curse under your breath, resisting the urge to cough as you turn the oven off.

“Sorry, love,” Tom says half-heartedly, resisting the urge to laugh at the sight of you looking so frantic. If it weren’t for the clouds of smoke painting your kitchen darker hues of grey then he would’ve laughed. Surely. “Got too distracted, maybe next time I’ll listen.”

He was distracted by your humming, and thoughts he couldn't simply shove away such as the thought that you fit against him so easily. Like two pieces of a wazzgij puzzle.

“Maybe,” You taunt, bringing the meal out of the oven. It didn't take a second opinion to tell that it belonged in the bin, right ontop of the expired cat food. “Should we just order pizza?” You speak between coughs.

You continue to wave the towel around the living room, praying the smoke detectors won’t go off again. Toms antics had already set the alarms off once, nearly three months ago now and he seemed to be the only one in the entire evacuated building that found it amusing. He had stifled his chuckles in the rain, cheeks tinted red and hair flat against his forehead.

But now, the room stunk. The smell makes you screw your face up in disgust. That was definitely going to be the last time you were going to attempt to make a fancy meal.

“Pizza sounds good.” Tom agrees, feeling his stomach begin to rumble. And to think, the smell of the charcoal lasagna stole his appetite for a solid minute. “I’ll see to it, can I use your laptop?”

“Yeah, it’s sitting on the couch, I think.” You speak, raising your voice so he can hear from the living room. “Get me the cheesy one with the stuffed crust! That’s my favourite.”

“I already knew that,” Tom calls back, typing in the six letter password. “Dominos or pizza hut?” He asks, looking up briefly.

You’re humming a song in the kitchen, competing with the buzzing fridge but Tom can make out the lyrics to Hey Jude by the Beatles. The smell of the burnt lasagne barely bothers you anymore as you sway your hips to the song playing through the speakers and your lips. He smiles to himself, watching you prance carelessly around the kitchen with a flannel shirt pulled over you, tucked into a pair of denim shorts. Laptop and rumbling stomach forgotten, his eyes sparkle with joy at the sight.

He makes a small note to let you play your music more often, even if it wasn’t his favourite – because the light that adorns your eyes is simply captivating. He’s stuck in the best kind of trance.

Hey Jude, don't be afraid You were made to go out and get her

“Dominos. Pizza hut is nowhere near as good.” You tell him, testing the water with your fingertips. You wince when it’s too hot, pulling your hand to your chest and decide that the awaiting dishes can simmer a little longer. Tom grimaces and looks back at the screen. There’s a picture of you and Laura taken last summer, wearing matching dresses and oversized sunglasses hugging your noses. He can’t remember if he took that photo – it may have been Harrison.

That was the same holiday that the set of you took a road trip and found yourselves renting a caravan and setting it up next to the beach. Mornings were spent sleeping in – or for you and Tom, hiding beneath the sheets with childish grins on your faces while your friends slept and nights were spent sitting by the ocean, threatening to push one another in and sharing chicken and vegetable kebabs.

The minute you let her under your skin Then you begin to make it better

You were getting under his skin, making your way into his heart and you were yet to realise it. That had happened long before your holiday trip. But he liked it. He liked the way your mere presence could make him feel like he was on top of the world and somehow – somehow, the glint in your eyes reminded him of the stars that he could and would stare at endlessly every night before bed.

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

“So cheese with a stuffed crust and Hawaiian for me?” He finds himself asking, cursor hovering over the ‘add to cart’ button. He was thankful for twenty-four seven delivery – a new addition that he often found himself succumbing too at one am. Maybe it was becoming a bad habit but he couldn’t say no. His self-control was discarded in the am.

“Garlic bread too.” You remind him, dipping your hand into the soapy water. Suds end where your wrist begins.

Tom directs the mouse over to the tabs, squinting his eyes at the bright light and nothing can stop him from pressing the extra tab, his pure curiosity overriding the fact that the two of you had an unspoken rule about invading the other's privacy. But he couldn’t stop himself when the eight letter word caught his eyes.

It started with an A and ended in N. The second letter was D, third O.

Tom bites his lip, switching tabs and silently deciding that the pizza can wait another moment.

‘Looking at adoption. Things you must know.’ ‘Adoption agencies UK.’

You know when people say that they felt their breathing stop? well, Tom did then – for sure. There’s also the feeling of his heart dropping out of his chest, plummeting into his chest.

One second it’s there, beating, pumping blood throughout his body and the next he’s stuck staring. Unmoving. There are not enough words in the human language to describe the confusion Tom experiences as he tries to read the page with hazy eyes.

There’s a feeling of disbelief because Tom swore you wanted this as badly as he did – maybe not at first, but maybe the excitement hit after the first ultrasound. Or maybe it was when he dreamt about taking his little girl to the beach for the first time or coming home to a chorus of soft, baby giggles.

Toms had photos of outfit ideas for his little one already. He had a Pinterest board of parenting tips and had even started listing a couple of names. He liked Emilia for a girl and Sutton for a boy. Marlowe was on the list too, and Starlette. Harrison had suggested Luna and his mother had suggested Max. Maybe he’d fallen too deep into his own world and forgotten that you had your own.

The song finishes, the soothing voice of the Beatles fading out slowly. Just slow enough for your humming to fade out with it, and you look over to see your best friend unmoving in his spot and while you can only see him from the side on, you notice his hand, stiff over the cursor. Suddenly the burnt lasagna and boiling sink seems unimportant.

“Tom?” You prompt, stepping around the kitchen table. Bubbles drip off of your hand and land on the floorboards, a safety risk you’d remember to look at later.

He blinks once before scrolling, seeing a series of previously opened articles and his heart succumbs to nothing but broken, confused pieces.

“What’s this?”

He picks up the laptop and shows you what’s on the screen and you tense. Be it from frustration because he invaded your privacy or the fact that you’d been caught – the bench suddenly seems so cold beneath tense fingers.

“Why are you looking through my stuff–” You snap, biting into your gum to keep you from going off at him.

He grits his teeth, placing the computer down on the table and stands up. He’s tense, clearly, and knuckles are clenched at his side with so much might. Tom rarely got angry, in fact, he hardly ever found himself fuming but here he was. And here you were a mere few meters away.

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Tom,” You sigh, letting out a breathe as tears glisten in his eyes. Tom looked a good concoction of angry and deflated. Shocked too. “Of course I was going to tell you but I just needed… I needed more time to wrap my mind about this entire thing.”

“Were you going to tell me?” He asks again, only this time the words are more muffled and less coherent then before.

A sigh leaves your lips. One that said more then words could. On one hand, you want to run into his arms and mutter apologies – admittedly Tom looked really cosy right now. You’d much rather be bundled up in his arms, a warm blanket thrown over your shoulders then argue with him. But you also know that you need to stand up for yourself and what you were doing.

“You were so excited. I didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

“You can’t just… you can’t just consider other options and not tell me, not when you were so ready to go through with this.” He struggles to form words, finding that everything he wanted to say he probably shouldn’t.

The pets seemed to be completely unaware of what was happening. Both lay still, the cat purring softly against Tessa as if using her as a pillow. Much like Tom did when he was sleeping, Tess snores lightly. You and Tom both secretly wish that you could be as chilled as your pets, but don’t voice your thoughts.

It’s crazy that – how everything can fall apart so suddenly. One second you’re laughing over burnt lasagna, praying that the smoke detector won’t blare at any moment and arguing over what takeouts you’ll get instead because neither are you are decent cooks and the next you’re admitting that you probably tested your trust. And that now there may not be much to rebuild.

Swallowing back your nerves, you clench your fists at your side. “Don’t tell me not to consider other options. You don’t get to tell me not to do that.”

“But that baby is mine too,” Tom was seething with anger and you were about to collapse from feeling all too many things at once. You’d gone from a giggling mess to outright fearful of losing everything you’d built. “We’re in this together, remember that? We both agreed on that.” Tom lets out a shaky breath.

“We are in this together but we need to look at the fact that we do have other options too–”

Tom interrupts you abruptly. “You moved in here so that we could look after our baby together! I asked you to move in here to make things easier, that’s what we agreed on, was it not?”

“You asked me to move in because you wanted me closer in case anything happened to me or the baby while he or she is still inside me.” You correct, practically seething with frustration as he speaks. Every word made you feel smaller then the last. “This doesn’t mean that I don’t love the baby, Tom, of course not. How could I not love him? I’ve been tracking the growth, watching for signs that something could be wrong. Shit, I’ve been doing what I can, when I can.”

For a few moments, your words simmer in silence – at least what silence was possible overtop of the radio which played another one of your songs, only quieter this time and you weren’t in the mood to hum.

Tom was too busy trying to come up with the best thing to say but all he could come up with was eight words.

“I won’t let you give up our baby up,” Tom says, quietly but harshly. Bitterness laces every word, dripping from his lips like venom and you’re more then aware of it – as well as the fact that Tom had never spoken to you in that tone before and you were more then sure that you didn’t like it.

Our baby.

“We need to talk about this properly.” You try, far from fed up over arguing like children.

Tom agrees, but he can’t see much beyond the feeling of betrayal. If he could even call it that.

“I thought you wanted this, you know? You led me to believe that you wanted this and you were going behind my back–”

“You think I want to give the baby up? You think it doesn’t break my heart to consider other options?” You speak up, the urge to breakdown growing stronger. But you wouldn’t in front of him. “Jesus, Tom, we told your parents about the baby and they embraced us with open arms and promised to do what they could. We told mine and they walked out. I’ve texted my mum every day but I’ve heard nothing. I want my family back.”

“I think that you’re being selfish.”

You scoff.

“Did you really just go there?” He doesn’t respond, swimming in his own guilt. “I’m not selfish for considering other options when I’ve given up so much already and if you can’t support me then so be it… but don’t tell me that I don’t have other choices here.”

Tom doesn’t know what else to say. He feels frozen in his spot, trying to take in and accept every word that falls from your lips but he can’t find it in him to respond. The sickly smell of burnt lasagna was long forgotten by either of you, as was his hunger that had since subside and was replaced by an overwhelming amount of frustration.

You, on the other hand, want to yell at him for not answering you. You want to demand an answer because the silence was deafening and you just needed an apology or at least the knowledge that you can talk about this with him instead of yelling and having to defend your side.

Gritting your teeth, you pick up the nearest coat which happened to be strewn over the chair and wrap it around you, then going back to the kitchen counter where you hastily grab your phone and car keys. The gentle jingling of the keys snaps Tom out of whatever haze he was in.

“I’m leaving, Tom, call me when you actually want to talk like adults – like two adults who are supposed to be bringing a baby into the world.” You spit, missing the remorse that crosses his face at lightning speed.

“Don’t go, we need to talk about this.” He extends an arm and tries to grab yours and for a second, he succeeds, right before you tug yourself from his grasp and glare.

“Why? So we can continue to argue?” You stop, waiting for Tom to answer but he doesn’t. He knows you’re right. “I don’t want to have this conversation like this and I won’t be made to feel like the bad guy when you refuse to even hear me out without losing your temper.”

A large part of you wants him to tell you not to leave, to say that you can sort this out in the morning when you’re both not angry about the invasion of privacy and about him getting mad at you for considering other options and additionally, for calling you selfish. And then maybe you’d apologise for not telling him.

Admittedly, you could admit your mistakes.

And if Tom told you again not to leave, then maybe you wouldn’t have stormed out of the apartment but instead to your bedroom where you’d stay until dusk. Then, you’d creep into his room and you’d discuss this when you were both calm and steam – highlighting your anger, wasn’t making its way out of your ears.

Tom is left in the apartment. He couldn’t necessarily say that he was by himself because he had Oscar and he had Tessa. And it’s Oscar that crawls onto his lap when he throws himself down onto the couch, head in his hands as he runs over every word thrown across the living room to the kitchen.

The cat brushes himself up against Tom, begging the man for a head rub and Tom does so without complaint – hand falling to the cats head. Usually, he would’ve grumbled about the cat... shoved him off and groaned but this time Tom gives in.

Maybe it’s the guilt that suddenly turns him into a temporary cat person.

“She’ll come back, Osc,” Tom says, more or less trying to reassure himself then the cat. “She’s just going to Laura's for a bit.”

He chews on his bottom lip, fingers running through ginger fur.

You were going to come back. And until then, Tom would grovel.

Hey Jude, don't make it bad Take a sad song and make it better

Let’s talk about this chapter!

HCIN: @grayxswan @whatdaflerken @thataudreydork @h-natale @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @u-are-my-moonlight @vendylewin @claredolphinbear24@slingingwingingspidey @voidklaroline @satellitespidey @tomhollandswh0re@bringmethehorizonandpizza @darlingimmafangirl @smalltownbigissues@hbmoore1986 @yeastystrumpet @timelock97 @spider-mendes@parkerstylesperalta @parkerspideyman @honeymoonparker @wirth-jackshit@honeymoonparker @sargentjamesbarnes @dumblani @its-lily-i-guess @queengemsworld @euphoricholland @mindfulwishing133 @taybugstuff @spideymood @xxxxdelenaxxxx @gioandreolli @danicarosaline @badhollandfluff @crazykenz-ie @morganthelittle @littlebluewoods @indecisivearia @theamuz @vintage-moonlight @itsrecklesscalum @annathesillyfriend @peter-prkr @scftholland @avengersassemblee @peter-prkr @its-lily-i-guess @scftholland @sadsadiesworld @sarah-moss2015 @@spideymybucky @sxbrxnx818 @tomsmelanin @hannahholland1811 @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @siriuslycollins @mutuallynotmutual @catstielanddeanthedog @kayla-m1996 @avenirectioner @toms-irish-girl @dullmiele @lokilove3112 @peterparkyourassonme @barneackles @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @rravenss @watsonundercover @tominhoodies @panemedited @ravynnn-12 @jake-peralta-b99 @thewackywriter @nickigv @clairesrainbow @strangerliaa @youcompletemesk @mjxmb @xcyber-queenx @fabtasticass @threatleveldundies @void-fire-rose @spidey-pal @shirukitsune

Everything tags: @cosmetologynerd @holland-ish @smexylemony @dej-okay@hollandsletters @ive-got-some-lies-to-tell @liz-gayllen@marvelismylifffe@lovelyh0lland @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @woah-jess@southsidefandoms@justannothermonday @its-claire-louise@sophiatomlinson23 @mockingjaygirl1221@joyfullyjenny@damnhisfaceisliketheskyatnight @bride-of-loki-odinson @in-the-corner-coffee-please@futuremrsb-r-main @spideyyypeter @saturn-aka-six@c0prolalia @buckykinz@ashtonsbandannas @dennasaur @amyyleblanc1999@fnosidam@randomfangirl1701@maybeandperhaps @acciorinn @marvel-language @micki-smiles@justmesadgirl @converseskyline @niall2017@gavemylifetotomholland @tomuchmarvel@leslieandjensen @painted-soulss@practicallylivesonline @mischiefmanaged49 @its-the-unknownspidey@holyrose96 @for-my-mind @mlxbm @erindillon11 @captainbuckyy @shawnandhisroses @converseskyline @smitten0-0kitten @parkeroos @whileinparis @unicornio-vomita-mierdas @draqcnheartstrinq @rainyboo-posts @mikalaka @petxrpxrker @tony-starks-ego @thedaydreamingwriter @peter-quackson @kateelyse96 @lesbian-jesus-jr @wheresmyquill@elyshugh@hollanderheart @tomshufflepuff @marvelismylifffe @tomsh0lland @obsessed-fandoms @girl-in-the-chair @trashqueenbitch @dramatic-and-young @honey-honey-5644@parkerluvs @chingonaconcha @captainbuckyy @jes-sica1@tomsfireheart @Rainbow-marvel @spideysimpossiblegirl @spideys-gurl@thomasstanley-holland @mlxbm @ixchel-9275@parkerssweb @peter-parkersbb @tom-hollands-eyelash @starlightfound @vldlvj @paradoxparker @lustfulcry @mlxbm @musiclover1263 @justatheatredork@peterparkerscamera@fandomnerdsarecool @thequeensardine @cutesy-angst@httplayer @mischiefmanaged49 @loca-lola @softboyparkerr @desir-ae @dangerousluv1 @t-hotland @laucontrerasv @peter-parkersbb@whatdafricklefrackle @thatblondebelgiangirl @fairydustparker @they-call-me-le @jamiemac26@nephalem67 @underoos-tom @quaxon-holland@lovelyspidey @no-shxt-sherl @xlatinaaxx@starlightfound @mikexpeter @moonandstars-xo @httpmcrvel @evelyn120700@fromheroestodust@hollandfieldblurbs @ghostlypandacolorpersona@spazclaiire @curlyhairedparker @josierosie@unicornio-vomita-mierdas @icondy@euphoricholland @desir-ae @lovelyspidey @thelazypangolin@ameeravioli@ramen-tically @mellifluous-tom @mrs-webslinger @krazykiara @scottyisthatyou@@s0cial-retard @sithskywalkers @avenirectioner @cokemania147@awkwardfangirl2014 @thot–holland @tomsmelanin @tryn25 @marvelismylifffe @fratboievans @draqcnheartstrinq @mellifluous-tom @obsidiandolans @peter-parkersbb @slingingwingingspidey @darlingxholland @50shadesoflaurmani @tomhollandswh0re @ixchel-9275 @hellaparker @vintagexquill @spidey-caps @parkerspideyman @particularnarry @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @magical-fandoms

#tom holland #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland fanfiction #Tom Holland series #Tom Holland au #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x reader insert #Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine #fwb!tom holland #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #Tom Holland fluff

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mvdipetsch · 5 years ago

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Outside of London; A Guide.

Hello, friends! I think there’s a semi-substantial amount of roleplays based around England, but honestly 90% of them are in London and while that’s great, England is made up of a lot of cities and I figured I’d show some #representation.

In this guide we cover: Housing in England, location and travel!

Disclaimer: This is based off of my experience and the experience of those around me. Most of my knowledge is concentrated around Birmingham, as that is where I grew up, but I’ve spent a fair amount of time in Stoke-on-Trent, Blackpool and Liverpool so I feel that I have a semi-decent shot at helping out.

If you found this guide helpful, please reblog this as it helps to show me that there is interest and I’m not just shouting into a void. If you have any suggestions or comments about things I could/should cover in these guides please let me know! Any specific questions? Shoot me an ask and I’ll do my best to help you out.

Location, Location, Location.

England is divided into counties. There many of them, and realistically they don’t affect anything. All it really means is that your resources (police, fire, ambulance, charities, etc.) are organised by that one area. For instance - the buses in my city are all organised by Network West Midlands. They deal with every bus service (if it’s an NXBus) in the West Midlands. Ultimately, it doesn’t really affect anything.

From my city to my university, it’s a 3-ish hour drive. That is a long drive. I know some people regard that as nothing, but when everything is so close together, it’s a lot. It’s not really a drive that people would make a lot - this is why train transport (while not that big) tends to be used to get from city to city.

Only really in the inner cities are things that expensive. When you move away from the main city, things can get pretty affordable, but the inner city is still often really accessible via bus, driving or even train. When I’m at my boyfriend’s I’ll get the bus into the city centre, but when I’m at my mom’s sometimes it’s quicker to just jump on a train. Train tickets are also pretty inexpensive if you’re moving within the city. It’s when you’re heading to smaller cities that the problems arise. For instance, I can get to London for under £10, and to Liverpool for not much more. However, for me to get from Birmingham (a major city) to my University (a not-so-major city of about 200k) it’s £60+ with a change. On coach, it’s £14 with a change + it takes 5-ish hours (there are direct coaches that cost £30~ which is still significantly cheaper than the train) University students will commonly take a coach to and from their university to their hometown if it’s ridiculously priced.

The higher north you go, typically the cheaper it is. This is dependent upon where in that city you are, but the general consensus is that north = cheaper. Obviously if you’re in Manchester city centre then it’s going to be a bit more pricey, but the general cost of living / food / etc. is seen to be cheaper the more north you go. A good way to judge how expensive a place is, is by how much the bus fare is. Birmingham bus fare is £4.00 for a daysaver (one ticket, on the bus as much as you like) but when I was in Liverpool I paid something like £1.20 for an U18 ticket. That’s a big difference. (For reference - Birmingham is the smack-bang middle of England. Liverpool is about 2 hours north, near Manchester.)

Typically, when it comes to travelling;

Driving

Cars in the UK are predominantly manual (with a gear stick) but we can still get automatic cars. Manual cars are also cheaper than automatic and you can drive an automatic with a manual license but you cannot drive a manual with an automatic license.

My mom lives seven minutes from her work (she timed it, she’s got no life) but there are people who live up to thirty minutes away and have to take the motorway. This means that if there’s a massive accident, you can sit there for six hours, bored out of your skull

It’s also worth saying that if you live in a/the city centre, you’re not taking your car to work. It’s ridiculously expensive and parking is so few and far between, it’s really not worth it. People can and do drive, but plenty of people will also opt for a train or bus.

Buses

If you don’t drive the bus is often a very viable option. Buses will commonly run from 6:30/7 until 11:30/12 (at least where I am) but you can get night buses or buses that run later, they’re just a bit rare.

Students (in college or secondary school, typically) are VERY common on buses. As in public buses. Unless someone has an impairment and go to a special school suited to their needs, you make your own way. Which often means that you jump on that bus with every man and his dog.

Sunday service is real and it’s a pain in the arse. Buses that run every 10-ish minutes during the week drop to 20 between 9 and 5 and then drop to every 30 minutes after that (sometimes even every hour.) This means that if you miss your bus... you can be waiting for a very long time.

Trains

Train’s are far more common for longer commutes. Also trains aren’t really that common for secondary school students (they either get dropped off in a car, walk or take the bus) but college students can and do take the train. My best friend takes an hour’s train ride to and from her college every day, and a lot of my teachers will get the train to college (my college is in the city centre, so it’s pretty logical.) Regardless, trains aren’t as common.

Housing

Houses in England are attached. It is rare that you will see detached (stand alone) houses. Most houses will share their walls with their neighbours, unless they’re the end house in which case they’re called “semi-detached” cause... only half of them is attached. That tends to mean that if your neighbours have a baby, you can hear them crying. You can hear when the tv is too loud and all that kind of stuff.

When you move out, there tends to be a few options in terms of who actually owns where you live. The options normally are:

Council.

You sign up on the website, the council give you a priority rating and a set amount of points. These points are determined by the people in your household and your needs. A single mother with two kids will get more points than a single person with no dependants.

There is also a ‘bedroom’ tax, which states that you have to pay a tax if you live in a council property and are seen as having more bedrooms than you need. If, for instance you have two children of opposite genders that are aged seven and three, you have to pay extra tax for that third bedroom because it’s deemed as unnecessary. However��if you have two children and they’re of different genders and one of them is over the age of ten (10) then you do not have to pay the tax. If they are of the same gender, then it is until one of them is sixteen (16).

Council and Housing Associations are most beneficial to those who are receiving benefits or are not working enough to cover rent by themselves.

Housing Association

The way a housing association works is effectively the same as a landlord and the council. You apply on the council website for the aforementioned points and begin to bid on properties. When this happens, you may bid on a property that happens to be owned by a HA. The HA then acts as your landlord. HAs are pretty okay, dependent upon the area + such. When you live in a HA, any housing benefit you receive will immediately be paid from the council to the HA. This can cause issues if your money gets fucked up (which is more common than not because the housing system in the UK is BROKEN.)

Private Rent

Private is when you have a landlord. I mean, that’s pretty self-explanatory really. You have an issue? Call the landlord. I’ve never had a landlord so I can’t really comment much on this. I will say that most landlords likely won’t accept housing benefit as a form of payment.

Private own.

This is just the whole mortgage, thing. You know how this goes.

There are a few different types of housing options when it comes to England and I’d imagine that this is pretty true for up and down the city.

Blocks of flats.

Blocks of flats are huge high-rises. They’re not as common anymore but there are still quite a few knocking about. If you remember the tragedy of Grenfell Tower, that was a high-rise.

Blocks of flats can be owned by the local council or be privately rented. I’ve never lived in a flat, so my knowledge isn’t the best. They all tend to have names and there’s normally at least two together.

A ‘flat’ is basically an apartment. So it’s a bunch of different flats (which, in high rises, commonly have two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom) High rises have a lot of flats in them. Commonly there’s at least 13 floors, with between around four and six flats per floor. So you can get a lot of people in a high rise.

Maisonette.

A maisonette looks like a wide house. It’s normally one to two floors, with flats that have three (or more) bedrooms. Maisonettes are considerably bigger, in terms of the flats inside, and consist of maybe two flats per floor. Maisonettes can also be council, privately rented or housing association.

Bungalow.

A bungalow is a home without any stairs. They can be council, privately rented or privately owned. Bungalows aren’t that common anymore, but they’re great for people who have difficulty with stairs and such. Also most bungalows are actually pretty decent sizes too.

Houses.

Houses in the UK are broken down into one of three categories:

Detached

Semi-Detached

Attached

This is literally just based upon how many of your walls are shared with your neighbour. Detached houses are really uncommon in the UK and are usually found in richer areas. Semi-detached is mainly just the house at the end of your street, so semi-detached and attached are the main two.

Also it’s pretty common that you only have windows of two of the four house walls. Even if you’re in a semi-detached house, you’ll only have front and back windows.

Houses can be privately owned, privately rented, housing association or council.

Most houses follow a similar layout. Typically three bedrooms, with either one bathroom or a room just for the toilet + then the bathroom (with a bath + sink + such.) It’s also super common for one room to be a ‘box room’ which is normally pretty small. My room at my mom’s house is the ‘box room’ and it fits a 3/4 bed, a chest of draws, and a metal rack that I use as a bookshelf. There is not a lot of room in there.

And there you have it! I think I covered most things regarding transport and housing in the UK, and I really hope that it was as informative as possible. Stay groovy, my dudes.

#rpt #rpc #rph #CONTENT.#WH : LOCATIONS.#WRITING HELP.

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vanillacup-cakes · 5 years ago

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This is, by far, the latest I’ve ever written one of my year round-ups, and by far, the messiest post.

2019 was a year guys, so have a really messily written year round up. If I try to tidy it up we’ll be here until December.

TL;DR

2019.

2019 was a year of love; happy, sad, somewhere in between.

My heart got broken.

Hera got married.

My friends are in love.

At the end of the Barat, in Pakistani wedding traditions, the bride goes home with the groom. Any events before that the bride always came home with her family. But for this main event, after the actual marriage contract has been signed, after all the festivities, she goes home with the groom. We took it in turns to hug Hera goodbye, I pushed myself to the back of the queue being the crier of the group.

When I was talking to Hera’s cousin she mentioned that some people have questioned why this little bit of the wedding celebrations causes such emotional responses from the bride’s family and friends, after all, we’ll see her again the next evening for the reception. And it’s not like she’s gone forever, she has just moved out of her parents house. She said that the reason for this was not because we will never see her again but because things will never be the same from that moment on. Not in a good, nor a bad way, it just is.

Changed.

Life changes and when one of your close friends get married it changes your relationship with them. Not that you or they love you/them less, not that you or they are less important, not that you or they care less. It just changes.

it doesn’t even have to be marriage.

In October, one morning in Peak District I was stood in the kitchen of our rented apartment and in front of me were two of my best friends with their other halves going on about their day eating their breakfast. It was a picturesque little scene I tried to capture as a photo, I was scared of ruining the moment though and my sly camera skills were terrible so I just have a blurry evidence of that moment. Throughout that holiday I caught little moments of the two couples, little moments I can’t really describe but you know it when you’re around it, little moments that made my heart swell and hurt at the same time. Because things are different. Things have changed.

Change isn’t bad, it can be really, really good. In fact I hope it’s a really, really, really good change for all of them, I just need a moment to accept that we’re no longer in our early 20s and our lives are going to change a lot before more.

2019 was a year of love; the good, the bad, and the bittersweet.

I started 2019 falling asleep as the fireworks went off. We had gone out for dinner earlier that evening with a friend from work and his missus, to a nice fancy restaurant where desserts are always perfect. I’m not one to go out on New Year’s so I worried that we’d be out long but, fortunately for me, the other couple we’re not up for a long one either so, after dinner, we tried to see if we could grab a couple of drinks in a bar before heading home but, as it was NYE, we had no luck. The other couple went home, we tried a couple more before we gave up and called it a night.

We were falling asleep when the fireworks went off. In our 20s, supposed to be the prime of your life, and I was cuddled up and happily falling asleep before the new year rang in. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

January meant Hamilton and birthday boardgames and lots of ballroom classes. I think this may have been the year that we also started, or tried to, regularly schedule in time for face masks.

Then it was suddenly February and I received the best Valentine’s day card in existence, I continued to dance, finally saw a Footlights performance and even caught a show put on by CUMTS. Cirque du Soleil was okay too…

March was when Amy, Izzy and I decided to start our own tradition, every year, no matter what, we’d get together; us and the boys, with the dogs, or kids or goodness know what else life gives us, we’d meet up. We’d meet up somewhere in the UK for a long weekend, where we’d go for walks and cook dinner, and just overall relax and unwind and catch up with each other. Each year starting that October at the Peak District.

March was when I forgot my water bottle at our last dance class and we had to turn the car around. March was when I got no sleep and still chose to go to work the next day.

For the three months we had worked in the new building together we had never bumped into each other in such close proximity, and then, suddenly, there he was coming out of the showers as I tried to find an empty stall to check how I tired I looked. I smiled, I can’t remember if I said anything but my heart dropped.

March was when I got my promotion and all I wanted to do was tell him.

I gave him his stuff back and I gave him his birthday present; an embossed leather notebook, dotted not lined, perfect for both writing and drawing, he was a design engineer after all.

In July he wished me a happy birthday.

In my head, people judge how much it hurt me when we were only together for nine months. But no one has the right to dictate how you feel.

Back in January, Hera started sending me dance videos, videos she wanted us to learn for her wedding.

By April, the Kate, Olive, Sam and I were in the full swing of Friday on a Monday: Dance Edition. We’d cook a spicy meals (the spice increased in level as we went along, yoghurt or cream became more for taste than for firefighting) then we’d dance. Every Monday, where possible. Sometimes we’d skype Charley, sometimes Charley would be with us in person.

As per usual we celebrated birthdays not in the correct months; Kate’s November was in January in form of birthday boardgames, face masks and hand massages by Olive. Charley’s January was in May in Claydon house where we discussed medieval fayres and the Jane Austen festival, where we sat in a private chapel and spoke as we wished until a lady came into actually pray and we tried our best to exit quietly. Sam gave Olive a piggy back in the gardens and there were some happy screaming and laughter. Olive’s March preceded Charley’s as we went to Bath in May and had ourselves our own very luxurious baths. Preceded and proceeded by enough Sally Lunn buns to feed a small army.

My mum randomly won tickets to Look East festival so Charley and I went on an impromptu trip to London and saw Mumford and Sons live. Next time we’ll be prepared with a picnic blanket and more sunscreen for Charley. Indeed we were more fully prepared a month later for West End Live, armed with a cool bag full of food and drinks. What we weren’t prepared for, though, was the vast amount of people queueing. We knew it was popular and we knew there would be a long queue but we didn’t quite anticipate just how big. Having said that, after we admitted defeat we found a little section to the side of Trafalgar square with deck chairs facing a huge screen live streaming the whole event. We didn’t get seats straightaway but sure enough a family with kids left slightly earlier. Instead of standing under the sun for hours on end, Charley and I sat on our deck chairs in the shade in a lovely June day eating our food and drinking to our heart’s content. We decided that in 2020, we’d just do the exact same. We also come out wanting to watch ever single musical there was.

Speaking of getting the right picnic spot, we are starting to have this ‘Singing on the river’ thing down; picnic blankets a plenty, napkins, cutleries, takeaway for dinner by the river listening to the wonderful King’s men perform renditions of old and new songs. It’s a Cambridge tradition we just can’t miss.

We did try to keep up monthly dinners in 2019; we went to Varsity, The Red Lion and Petersfield before we had to suspend the dinners as it was time to fly to Pakistan.

After the vaccinations were done, after the visas were sorted, after all the clothes were bought, after all the make-up and hair trials were done, after all suitcases were packed, after all the dances were mastered (somewhat), after the incredibly long wait to see Hera again it was time to get in the taxi and slowly but surely make our way to the train station. Slowly because we had a flat tyre. But it was going to be faster to get on a slow car than wait for another taxi.

For months on end, as a group, we all had a phrase “After Pakistan”. The amount of things we said we’d do ‘after Pakistan’ and suddenly we were there. Suddenly it was all gone.

I’m not sure life kept going after Pakistan, you know.

And yet it did. I came back to work with my new manager fully into the swing of things, nothing had exploded and everything was still chugging along. Suddenly I was being invited to more meetings and prospects of going business trips became a thing.

I also started sewing classes, along with Olive and Sarah. I stopped ballroom classes and continued with krav maga.

In October, Amy and Tom picked me up in Cambridge and we all drove to Bakewell together to meet Izzy and Zack. The weather could have been nicer to us but it was the UK in October, we should have known better. So off we went, in the rain, walking down an old railroad track (we did consider cycling but that got confusing and expensive), climbing hills for loo breaks and risking ankles and necks for a hope of a nice warm lunch only to be disappointed because pubs in the middle of nowhere is far and few in between and only serve food at specified hours. Having walked for hours with a small amount of sustenance we took the taxi home and enjoyed a meal at the apartment instead.

In November, we flew to Bulgaria and what an experience it was. Beautiful sceneries and definitely a hidden gem, but take it from me, don’t take the jeep up the mountain. Find a different mountain, there’s plenty. Explore the gorgeous towns preserved to their original glory and feel like you’ve been transported back in time. Try the local cuisine! Dress up in traditional Bulgarian outfits, it’ll make a wonderful family photo.

That same month, Hera visited England again. For a mere few days she stayed in Cambridge and we tried to make the most of it as possible. Butch Annie’s was obviously a requirement. And at last, once again, Kate’s November birthday was celebrated in November. In a once in a lifetime opportunity where all six of us were finally back together again to tackle not one, not two but three escape rooms! We got out of every single one of them. No biggie! But just like that, we were all split up again.

But no rest for the wicked because the very next day I was off to Austria on a business trip. My first ever business trip. It wasn’t all work and no play, in fact, at one point we were chucked out of the office so we can explore Vienna further so we did. We went to Christmas market after Christmas market and I stocked up on Christmas baubles and Christmas presents. My favourite bauble though? Came from the Bury St Edmunds Christmas Fayre. I’ll be on the look out for you again next year!

Before long it was December. With all the hubub of 2019 and the hubub that 2020 will bring (in form of a NYE party) I decided it was best if we had someone else cook for us for Friends Christmas. Secret Santas were exchanged and extra sticky toffee puddings were ordered, no dishes were cleaned by our hands that evening,

And then it was time to party. 1920’s themed party to ring in the 2020’s…

When I really think about it 2019 was one helluva year. So much has changed, so much will change. There isn’t one month similar to the one before, it’s terrifying. Growing up is terrifying. Changes are terrifying.

But we have to bury broken hearts and raise a glass to falling in love, we have to hug memories goodbye and smile at the new ones. We have to accept things won’t be the same but that’s not a bad thing. There are still songs to dance to and movies to cry at, rooms to escape and snacks to share. They’ll always be there no matter what… no matter what 2020 will bring.

#personal #end of year #end of year 2019 #yes I have written this as if I don't know what's happening in 2020 already

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decaffs · 6 years ago

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i’m just about to go into my third year of university and there’s a lot of things about the non-academic side of the whole university situation that i wish i had known so i’m going to let you in on a few tips!

1. it can get lonely

i moved into student accommodation when i went to university and i lived with 5 other girls. we were all doing different courses so it was rare that we were all i the flat at the same time and i found myself on my own most days. because i didn’t see my flatmates i started to feel lonely and isolated pretty quickly - i now know that this is super normal! moving to university with a bunch of strangers is a massive change and everyone feels as lonely as each other. i struggled with the loneliness mostly during meal times and at night. i quickly found a solution that made meal times enjoyable.. MUKBANGS!!! yep thats right, youtube videos of other people eating. it might sound silly but it really makes you feel like you’re just hanging out with some friends and eating food together. some of my favourite people to watch are: jenna and julien, the ballingers and trisha paytas

2. dealing with your own finances can be difficult at times

here in the uk, student finance provide us with what’s called a “maintenance loan” to help us pay rent and buy food and student bank accounts are often required to have a hefty overdraft which makes it very easy to think you’re rich all of a sudden. first semester consisted of me blowing my money on things i didn’t need just because i thought i could afford to, i wasn’t budgeting properly and i’m still paying the price for it now a year later. if i have to give any money advice it would be to work out a budget (that includes nice things!! like trips to the movies and some nice take out coffees) and stick! to! it! i now stick to a budget of £30 a week of essentials such as food, drinks and clothes (not including rent or bills) and it’s helping me save a lot of money

3. home cooked meals and meal plans are absolutely vital (and packed lunches too)

when you’re trying to stick to a budget, the easy food option is often fast food cause it’s cheap and it’s bloody everywhere. so the best thing to stop yourself bingeing on everything that’s not good for you, is meal planning! i sit down every two weeks and plan what meals i’m going to have on what days. this way i can buy things in bulk, pre-make meals and freeze them and my time isn’t wasted in supermarkets because i’m unsure of what to buy. i also plan packed lunches into my meals because long days at uni are only made worse if you haven’t got food to hand. personally i recommend buying lots and lots of frozen veg, fresh meat that you can freeze (if you eat meat), LOTS of pasta and LOTS of rice.

4. exercise is super important

if you’re indulging in the above (being on your own, overspending and eating crap) then you’re going to start feeling pretty low, very quickly, so you need to learn to invest time in the little things that can boost a day. exercise is perfect for this! i’m not talking about buying a gym membership and pumping weights for 3 hours a day but setting time aside in the morning or evening to go for a run or walk, do some yoga or even meditation (i know meditating isn’t physical exercise but it’s mental exercise, right?) will make a massive difference to your day and it’ll boost your mood.

5. it’s okay if you don’t love university

i hated my first year of university, i won’t lie to you, and i felt like i was the only one in the world and that i was just throwing money down the drain (£17k to be precise). believe it or not, it’s super normal to not enjoy university at first. university, as a whole, is a massive lifestyle change and it does take a long time to adjust, for me it took a year. you’re spending a lot of money and investing a lot of time in one subject that you’re just hoping is the subject for you! it’s normal to have doubts about your course, if you’re doubting your choice speak to your tutor and they’ll be able to give you some personal tips about how to adjust to the different teaching styles, the more intense content and the emphasis on individual learning.

if you’re going through a hard time at university then i’m so sorry you’re not feeling the best but it will get better, i promise! university isn’t meant to be easy but it will be so worth it in the end. persevere, believe and most importantly, look after yourself x

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claritalunaluna76 · 5 years ago

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This time nine years ago, five teenage boys’ dreams were in tatters after being rejected from the X Factor .

But determined not to let a good-looking gang go to waste, show boss Simon Cowell and his genius decided to put solo hopefuls Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson together.

It took the lads just five minutes to agree to his plan and have another crack at the competition - this time in the groups category.

They would go on to be one of the most successful boybands of the century, selling out stadiums and dominating the charts for five years before splitting in an explosion of bitterness and animosity.

But with no experience of harmonies, group singing or even each other, even then Liam wondered what they were really getting into.

“We had seen each other at Bootcamp and got on well, and Niall and I had shared a room. But we were competition then, and at the back of the minds we knew were against each other,” Liam would later recall.

“So it was strange when we were put together and my first thought was, ‘How are we going to make this work when we don’t know each other? It was such a leap of faith.”

A fractious start

Desperate to catch up with the other bands, the newly-formed five-piece spent an intense two intense weeks practising in a bungalow at the bottom of Harry’s step-dad’s garden in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.

But contrary to their bright white smiles and boyish banter, their very different personalities were already beginning to show, laying the foundations for the resentment, jealously and anger that would one day cause the group to implode.

“We used to be at each other’s throats on the X Factor,” Louis admitted on their This Is Us DVD of his clashes with Liam.

“Whenever I wanted to do anything slightly mischievous, he was always the daddy.”

“Me and Louis did not get on at all,” Wolverhampton-born Liam agreed. “We were two completely different characters. There was one point where I literally wanted to whack him.”

Nevertheless, they sailed through the live shows and came third in the final before scoring a record deal with Cowell, who for them made n exception of only signing the winning act.

A mysterious fall out

By the time they scored their first number one with What Makes You Beautiful in September 2011, Harry and Louis were living as housemates in a rented £3million North London flat in the same block where Ashley Cole and Cheryl once met.

Then suddenly at the start of 2012 they allegedly stopped talking and moved out.

“Apart from Harry and Louis, no one knows exactly what caused the falling out — they didn’t even tell the other boys the full details,“ a source told The Sun at the time.

“But it was very serious and their friendship has never recovered. Everyone involved in the band is well aware of the animosity between them.

“It’s been central to everything else that came next with the band because there was suddenly a massive divide.”

From that point on Harry apparently refused to even travel with Louis and the fall-out would become so serious that bosses reportedly had to find a way to make their last three albums without the boys having to spend any time together in the studio.

However, Niall dismissed the claims, telling fans not to believe the reports.

"We stand strong as a band and we’re brothers,” he tweeted.

Those 'gay sex’ rumours

One theory was that the 'Larry Stylinson’ fan fiction depicting the pair as lovers had pushed them apart.

Louis, in particular, was extremely sensitive about the claims and admitted the speculation about their sexuality 'created an atmosphere’.

“People can believe what they want, but it comes across as a little bit disrespectful to the ones that I love, like (girlfriend) Eleanor (Calder),” he said.

“I’m so protective over things like that, about the people I love. So it created this atmosphere between the two of us.”

Zayn told how Harry and Louis had even dialled back their physical friendship in an attempt to stop the rumours.

“It’s not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them. They won’t naturally go put their arm around each other because they’re conscious of this thing that’s going on, which is not even true,” he said.

While Harry likes to keep people guessing about his sexuality, refusing to put a label on it, Louis has categorically said he is heterosexual.

And he was raging when a cartoon featured in HBO show Euphoria depicted a sex scene between him and Harry last month.

“I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it,” he raged on Twitter , with a source telling The Sun he was 'angered’ that an 'awkward’ situation had been made worse.

Drug scandal

Whatever the cause of the tension, the rift only grew wider when Zayn and Louis were filmed smoking what appeared to be cannabis in the back of an SUV en route to a concert in Peru in 2014.

Narrating from behind the camera as he filmed Zayn lighting what appeared to be a joint, Louis could be heard saying, “So here we are, leaving Peru. Joint lit. Happy days!”

Talking about Zayn taking his warm-up 'seriously’, he continued, “One very very important factor of Zayn’s warm up of course if Mary J herself. In fact I will present it to him now for some fantastic singing.”

Straight-laced Harry - who wasn’t even much of a drinker - was apparently 'furious’ they’d taken the shine off the start of their UK stadium tour with their 'stupid and reckless’ behaviour.

“Harry is annoyed about the whole debacle. This should be one of the biggest weeks of the band’s career… Instead it has been taken over by this controversy,” an insider told The Sun.

“Despite Harry’s reputation, he’s incredibly professional and mature, and not into these sorts of antics,” the source added.

Booze battles

It wasn’t just Louis and Zayn who were in Harry’s bad books.

Liam’s partying was so out of control that Harry reportedly refused to go socialise with the band unless good guy Niall was there to keep the peace.

The pressure of spending two solid years on the road coupled with rumours about their future caused Liam to have a backstage meltdown in October 2015 with the band forced to cancel the gig in Belfast.

“The pressures of fame and being on the road for two years have made Liam ill,” a source told The Sun of the star, who would go on to admit fame 'nearly killed me’.

“He was devastated about letting everyone down, especially the fans, but he wasn’t physically able to get on stage. He had a complete meltdown.”

On another occasion he turned up to a fan event so drunk that it finally gave him a wake-up call.

“I’m not afraid to say that I actually went through a pretty bad [drinking] stage,” he told Attitude magazine.

“There were just a few times that I went over the limit with things and then I had to pull it back.

"I was very fortunate that I had lots of great people around me who said to me, 'Look Liam, you need to chill out a bit now.’”

Admitting he used alcohol to cope with the strain of performing near-constant touring, he said being drunk was like putting on a Disney costume before stepping out on stage.

“Underneath the Disney costume I was pissed quite a lot of the time because there was no other way to get your head around what was going on,” he told Men’s Health.

“I mean, it was fun. We had an absolute blast, but there were certain parts of it where it just got a little bit toxic.”

The pact

The band was fraying at the seams. Zayn was constantly in the headlines, accused of cheating on then-fiancée Perrie Edwar - which he vehemently denied.

There were rumours that he wanted out of 1D - despite the deal they were said to have made to release five albums and a greatest hits record before going on a 'hiatus’.

But Zayn blindsided everyone by suddenly quitting in March 2015 after a concert in Hong Kong.

In a statement he later admitted had nothing to do with him, he claimed he wanted to be a 'normal 22- year old’.

"I wasn’t going to spend another minute doing something which made me ill and which I no longer believed in,” he said of his shock exit.

Harry was seen openly crying on stage during their performance the next night.

But behind the scenes, the lads were reportedly furious.

“The others knew Zayn would have a head start by leaving first, like Robbie Williams did when he quit Take That,“ said a pal.

“It was frustrating to them as Zayn only had to hang on in there a few months and 1D would have gone on their long break united.”

Zayn would later go so far as to claim he’d wanted to leave the band from the very beginning and that he hated their music.

Friends no more?

Meanwhile, absence has only made the feud grow stronger, particularly between Louis and Zayn after the latter failed to support him on the X Factor following his mum’s death in December 2016.

"I had a couple of calls with him after I lost my mum and all the boys had agreed to come to that performance and he didn’t show, so that really bugged me,” he said on the Dan Wootton podcast.

“It was just seeing everyone there – Harry, Niall and Liam – that was what I needed that night, that support,” he said. “So on the other end of the spectrum it kind of really showed. So, eh, I hope he’s alright, but…”

Niall admits he doesn’t even have Zayn’s number and that he’s constantly changing it, while Zayn sniped that he didn’t 'really’ speak to Harry when they were in the band so didn’t expect to have a friendship after.

“I ain’t spoke to any of them for a long time, to be honest with you. That’s just the way it is,” he told Vogue.

“There’s things that happen and things that were said after I left…Snide things. Small things that I would never have expected.”

So could they ever reunite?

Mirror - July 23, 2019

#this is the investigative quoted by queerty #that's more like a fanfiction than a journalistic work #but that clearly establishes some changes to the narrative #they have been building since the beginning of the hiatus #with harry and niall on the good side #louis zayn and liam as the guilty part #and larry stylinson as the root of all conflicts #this article also reinforces the harry thinks he's better than the rest narrative #he decides with whom to fly with #and he doesn't want to reunited the band #i want this in my blog because it feels to me #they are escalating in the smear campaign againts louis #again #what is the endgame tho?#further isolate him from his community #and reinforce the idea of internalized homophobia #make him responsable for his own closet?#force him to come out and breach his contract?#can't figure it out #one direction: ninth anniversary #one direction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #solo louis sabotage #smear campaign #daily mirror

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seriouslycromulent · 6 years ago

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So I’m catching up on Legends of Tomorrow...

I missed the last 2 weeks because I’ve been so busy at work (still am actually), but I finally got around to watching episode 7 - “Hell No, Dolly!”

But before I watch the midseason finale, I just want to share a few thoughts -- not related to, you know, John breaking the timeline and sending us all into a world of cheesy TV parodies.

Here we go ...

I was a bit nervous when it looked like they were going to bring Dez into the Constantine storyline on Legends. Mainly because Dez’s end in the comics is a pretty gruesome one, and it mirrors what’s been happening around the States, Brazil, and many parts of Europe with the current rise of neo-fascism. And frankly, most CW shows don’t want to touch on those heavy issues in an authentic way because it would betray their teen-friendly content that always has a happy ending with a message of hope at the end. (The only one I trust to actually give that topic its due is Black Lightning, but that’s a different conversation.)

For those who don’t know, in the Hellblazer comics, Dez gets murdered by members of the National Front. He’s literally tortured and sliced open until he bleeds to death. Like I said, it’s gruesome and John takes it hard. Now, by this time in the graphic novels/comics, John has established a reputation of getting people close to him hurt or killed on a consistent basis. He knows it and he keeps his friends to a minimum because of it ... and well, because he’s a bastard too.

So Dez’s death shakes him because there’s no two bones about it. He was killed because he was with John when the National Front picked them up and because he was black.

In a way, I’m glad that the Legends of Tomorrow’s Dez isn’t that guy. Or if he is meant to be, they changed his character’s backstory so much, devoted Hellblazer fans can pretend that it’s not the same guy. Yeah, it sucks that this Dez -- the LoT Dez -- is still killed because of John, and John knows better than to get close to someone, but I’m still glad they didn’t follow the story in the comics.

With that being said, I’m also disappointed that they kind of shoe-horned in this romantic relationship for John that feels very much out of place for him here. John doesn’t fall for anyone easily. Not romantically. And he doesn’t rent a flat (not an “apartment,” this is JC for Pete’s sake!) to shack up with someone after a few weeks together. Not without some serious chemistry.

And that’s just it. This Dez doesn’t work for me because the actor playing Dez doesn’t seem to have any real chemistry with Matt Ryan. To be fair, we don’t get to see much of them interacting, but it still isn’t there even for what we get. It was strongest on-screen at the end of the episode when John tried to push Dez away to save him. (I say “tried” because I have a feeling how this storyline is going to wrap up.) But ultimately, I’m not believing that these 2 met and John just went against all his common sense, past experiences, and known caveats to be with Dez in a long-term relationship. I need to see more of their story or at least feel some genuine chemistry between the 2 actors before I’m buying John throwing caution to the wind.

There’s also a part of me that wishes they had kept LoT Dez and skipped the romantic relationship that doesn’t quite gel, or simply chose a different character from John’s past that he did have a romantic relationship with. Or better yet, gave him a new pre-LoT/post-NBC Constantine lover to dog his memory.

But with this storyline, it just feels like they wanted to show Matt Ryan lip-locking with a male actor and play service to those who only care about John as a bisexual character and little else. Which unfortunately, on Tumblr, is like 95% of the so-called Constantine fans.

My point is John deserves better. He deserves to have his character treated with the full appreciation of his past and every aspect of who he is -- not just who he shacks up with. I know this is an ensemble show, so it can’t all be about John. But it has a reputation of putting people together as a couple who have no real chemistry (::cough:: Ray & Hawkgirl ::cough::). So clearly when it comes to John, I want something better for him.

I want to give the Berlanti-verse a chance here because I do believe they are trying, especially within the confines of the Legends of Tomorrow style and tone. But this piece of John’s story just didn’t work for me. I thought they did a great job a few episodes back with the scene in the pub in Liverpool where he meets his mum and tries to kick his dad in the balls. And I’m willing to give them a few credits for references and lines thrown here and there, but this LoT Dez just feels a bit too forced. (Plus, random references to bits and characters in the comics is something any poor writer with access to a Wiki can do.)

And look, before anybody comes @ me, I’m fine with changing things up. I mean, if they don’t adapt anything to fit the era we live in now, then John should still be in the UK, a good 20-25 years older, and making references to his wife by now. So please, don’t think I’m a purist.

But I really want the writers to do John justice if they’re going to spin him off to his own show on the CW like Matt Ryan said they’re considering. And I know that it’s hard to do him justice given the much lighter, frivolous tone of LoT, which I kind of like btw. In the end, Matt Ryan asked us die-hard Hellblazers to hang in there because he’s working his butt off each episode to make sure we feel that it’s the character that we know and love from the comics. And I appreciate that, so I’ll keep watching and ... hoping.

Now, about that shattering the timeline thing, John ...

#john constantine #constantine #legends of tomorrow #lot #matt ryan #hellblazer

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nadeemahmedmumbai22-blog · 6 years ago

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Doomed in Dubai by Nadeem Ahmed

Me; a Model/Presenter/Fashion event director living in Accrington, Lancashire! Hardly the fashion capital of the world I know! Just a mere small village where news spreads like wild fire! It was a known fact that I was a successful model due to my face being splattered all over the place, even locally! I have always been and still am very committed and dedicated to my work.

Being a model was considered a very unconventional career for a northern lad but I knew from a very early age that I was going to break the mould and do something completely different! A very tough industry to break into but thankfully through a lot of challenges, rejections and hard work I found my path.

My story begins from December 2003. I had completed several modelling assignments up and down the country and was so ready for a break. It had been a successful year and now that Christmas was fast approaching, it was time to wind down, spend quality time with family and break all dietary rules!

Traditionally every year, my family would get together at ours for the festive season.

I lived with my grandparents from a very early age and considered them to be my parents. Our house was the central point for all the family and the thread that kept us all together.

I had a good relationship with most of my family members but there were a few rotten eggs which is normal I guess!

I hadn’t seen my cousins for such a long time because of work commitments and so was more than excited about our get together.

We would talk till early hours of the morning without a care in the world.

On some days we would go food shopping at the supermarket at 3am creating a harmless racket!

We got onto the subject of travelling and lucky for my cousin, she and her family had just returned from a place called ‘Dubai’. A place I had never heard of! In all fairness my geographical skills had never been strong. She spoke about it in a very enticing way. I was sold! I needed a break after working so consistently. It seemed the perfect getaway destination as halal food was accessible throughout with it being an Islamic country. I always ate halal food and the thought of going into a Mcdonalds where I could literally eat anything off the menu was so appealing. So sad but true! She also said that getting around was easy and most importantly it was always baking hot which to me was the biggest plus because I hate the cold!

Before long, I had decided that I would be going to Dubai for my holiday. The excitement was building up thick and fast.

I booked my flight which was going to take me to Dubai via Istanbul.

Once I had received all the confirmations, I broke the news to my family telling them that I would be going away for New Years. They were a bit shocked but at the same time so used to me going here there and everywhere! I felt I really owed this holiday to myself after working so incredibly hard! One of my friends recommended that I should check out a website called www.expatriates.com where people connected from all corners of the world sharing their experiences of travel and living abroad. I was always an organised person and so was on the case immediately. I registered myself on the site and left a message on the forum stating that I would be in Dubai and if anyone could make any recommendations?

I was pleasantly surprised to have received some messages from someone called Ethan who seemed most helpful. He was initially from Brazil but now working in Dubai in one of the opulent hotels. He was kind enough to suggest sorting out my accommodation for me to ensure I got a good deal. We exchanged several messages and it felt safe to say that he seemed a trustworthy guy.

It was decided that he would meet me at the airport in Dubai and escort me to my accommodation.

Finally having got to Dubai after almost missing my flight and paying for a Turkish visa that I didn’t need, I was feeling a bit nervous about meeting Ethan but managed to put the doubt to the back of my mind and just decided to roll with it. After all I was an adult that was capable of looking after myself! Besides, Dubai was one of the safest places in the world from what I had read!

As planned Ethan came to the airport, tallish, slim-built with sleeked back jet black hair. Not even an earthquake could move a single strand of hair on his head. He was very friendly and seemed as nice as his messages so I chilled out and began to feel comfortable in his company.

Not long into my stay, Ethan introduced me to one of his closest friends, ‘Luca Hadad’, a television personality from Lebanon who was working for a very well established company in Dubai.

Luca was quite tall, slender built, very fair skinned with green eyes. His hair was very dark in colour with very tight curls. He was dressed very professionally and oozing with confidence.

I seemed to have bonded very quickly with Dubai and I was sure getting the love back! This crazy love put a very random thought into my head.

The thought of leaving my life in the UK behind and trading it in for a more exotic lifestyle! It made sense, I was meeting the right people, I was so happy and at peace, I even had continual great weather which was a big thing for me! So, in true Nadeem style I literally ripped up my ticket! In those days we didn’t have the privilege of e-tickets.

I had decided Dubai was going to be my new home. I wasn’t going back to the UK!

Being totally spontaneous was nothing new to me. It was my comfort zone. I loved to live life on the edge!

Everything was falling into place so naturally that it felt so surreal.

I found a lovely studio flat in Deira. It was cosy and all mine! I was settling in so seamlessly. I felt so blessed that my family were so supportive of my crazy decision.

I felt I knew Ethan and Luca on a much better level now and we were all getting on so well. Luca even suggested that I would be a great asset working for his company presenting English lifestyle programmes. This brought music to my ears after all my money wouldn’t last forever and I needed to work!

Luca was in touch on a regular basis and he mentioned that he would have to leave his swanky flat in Sharjah because the landlord didn’t want tenants anymore. Me being me suggested that he should move into my place until he sorted himself out. I was just so grateful that Luca was pushing his seniors to have me working for them. It was the least I could do!

A meeting had been arranged at the office for me to sign all the paperwork and get all the formalities out of the way for my new job. I got there early and eager as usual. The paperwork was all in Arabic but Luca just asked me to sign on the dotted line and pay the equivalent of £500 cash for the visa. I thought this to be very odd but paid up and didn’t question it in the hope that I would officially have my visa sorted soon and a full time dream job. He was a friend so trust issues were not even on the agenda.

I had been most productive by contacting several model agencies. To my delight, all the hard work had paid off because the work was coming in!

Then one day Ethan decided that we should have a party at my house to celebrate the big move and friendship and so on. He would supply the alcohol and my job was to get some food. I made it clear to him that I didn’t drink but the curiosity had always lingered with me. I had never in my life tasted alcohol! Ethan bullied me into having my first drink, except my first drink was not a little shot but a whole pint of orange juice out done by Jack Daniels. Needless to say I was paralytic. All I could remember was smashing plates, one after the other which was so out of character for me! I also remember being slapped very hard by Ethan and being thrown into a cold shower with my clothes on! The hangover was the worst anyone could ever imagine. I vowed never to drink again!

Time was flying by and there was still no sign of my visa. Things started to go down in a very surreal way. I was told by Luca that Ethan would be moving into my flat because his contract was coming to an end and that he didn’t have anywhere else to stay. Luca who initially had promised to help me financially with rent and bills seemed to have swallowed his words as there was no sign of even a dhiram from him! My money was running out and I needed financial help. Instead, I was having to pay ridiculous amounts of money regularly for my visa that still had not been processed! Unfortunately I was not aware of the rules and regulations regarding visas in the UAE so I was at the mercy of Luca and his knowledge of these things!

My stress levels were shooting through the roof because now I was looking after two more people as well as myself. They were becoming very reliant on me for food, bills and everything basically. They were blatantly taking full advantage of my kind nature!

I was constantly reassured of empty promises that never saw the light of day! There seemed no end to my misery until Ethan announced that he was going back to Brazil then heading off to London to start a new life. It truly was amazing to hear such good news.

Still no visa however there seemed to be a bit of light at the end of the tunnel as Luca and one of his local friends came up with an idea for a lifestyle television show. I was to be fully involved in recruiting models and covering the fashion aspect for the show. The best part was that the local lady would be able to sort my visa out for me. This was such great news as the locals have a lot of power and can make anything happen at any time! Finally it was all pulling together.

Luca’s behaviour was getting incredibly weird. It’s like he was testing me to see how much I trusted him by doing vile things like putting faeces on my toothbrush and completely denying doing it as no one else had access to my flat apart from him so it had to be him, stealing my phone from right under my nose and making me believe that I had lost it even though I was 100% sure where I had left it before heading out for a casting. He had stooped to an even lower level by pimping me out to a wealthy local without my knowledge by referring to him as a ‘client’ that wanted to book me for a model shoot. When I met the client he had a totally different agenda and shouted at me when I refused to comply with his dirty intentions. He said that Luca had received an advance payment for my time with him and that Luca would not receive the rest of the remaining fees! This was all way too much for me to handle! I was losing my mind! I couldn’t believe I was being punished for being so trusting!

I tried to kick Luca out but I became a victim in my own home. I could not get rid of him no matter how hard I tried! I was trapped!

After shooting a fantastic pilot of the TV show in a wonderful studio in Ajman with all the amazing crew, I felt there was a bit of normality coming my way. No doubt it was going to be short-lived!

I was still without my work visa and realised that my tourist visa was about to expire! This was such a huge worry naturally. Again like a million times before, Luca convinced me that the local lady- Fatima his friend, would sort it out!

It so happened that Luca managed to speak with Fatima after the shoot. She said that we needed to meet up with her cousin as she was too busy and hand over my passport to him. He would then insure that it got to her.

We met her cousin who came to meet us in a very expensive luxury car. He insisted we get into the car. I then handed my passport over to him. He seemed quite genuine and concerned for me. However, that was the last time I saw my passport!

I was officially an illegal immigrant which meant I had a curfew as the police did random checks at night. If I got caught without any id then I would be put straight into jail, no questions asked! I don’t look conventionally British so how would I prove my identity without any official documents? I was a prisoner in a foreign country!

One random morning, Luca was up earlier than normal and all I could hear was the rustling of bags. He was all packed and ready to go back to Lebanon! It was a beautiful surprise to learn that I was finally getting rid of this dishonest, self-centred person who claimed to be my friend but just used me and rinsed me dry of my money!

Whilst leaving, he kept assuring me that Fatima would sort my visa and that I should stop worrying! He had instructed her to contact me as soon as it was done! I still had that glimmer of hope and with that bit of positive feeling I said good riddance to bad rubbish!

My home was once again my own. I was so elated! Words simply could not describe how I felt at that moment!

I went back to bed to sleep and got up feeling fresh and happy!

My peace was brutally interrupted with a heavy knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone which was strange! So who was it? I went to open the door and to my extreme horror, I went flying back with a heavy punch from one of the guys that had come to my house. They were four heavy built guys on the hunt for Luca, who had swindled them out of thousands of pounds too as he had done to me. They knew he lived at my place and so came to get their money as they too were promised working visas but didn’t see anything for their money.

I tried to explain that I too was a victim of Luca’s trap but they wouldn’t have it! I was being severely battered by the ring leader who was amused at my reactions of when I was being hit!

They insisted that it was my responsibility to get all their money back and if I didn’t they would kill me and scrap away every bit of evidence of my existence. I was forced to write a document saying that I owed all of them money and that I would be paying the full amount back to them asap! They needed my fathers name, my UK address and my signature. According to them, this was a bound contract that I had to fulfil! I was told I was not going to get away! They had turned my flat upside down. It looked like a bomb site! They raided my wardrobes and took everything that seemed of value to them including my bag that housed my official documents including my university certificates, birth certificate, college certificates and cash money, not forgetting my mobile phone, my designer belts, clothing, camera and walkman! It didn’t seem like there were going anywhere! I was officially held hostage in my own flat!

I was given just a few hours to get thousands of pounds together. They hit me some more and left leaving my flat empty and lifeless with just a few things scattered around promising that they would be back the following day. On leaving I got my final punch for the day and they finally left several painful hours later!

Naturally I was not in a good way! The Stress and panic was overwhelming as I tried to figure out how I could possibly get such a substantial amount of money together in such a short space of time?

Time flew whilst I was lost in my thoughts on trying to make heads and tails of this surreal situation! It was too late! I got the dreaded knock on the door again. It was full blown aggressive and I felt that my life was about to be shortened! I was finished! They came busting in and continuing with the torture they had started the day before. I couldn’t get the money! It was impossible! I was being strangled and beaten. It was like I was having an out of body experience! It didn’t feel like it was really happening! The truth is that it was and I was living my worst nightmare. I was ‘Doomed In Dubai’!

Things were progressively getting worse and I was told by the ringleader that I would be taught a lesson that I would never forget! I was dragged onto the bed by my hair and held down by all four of them. I fought with my last bit of fight but failed miserably because I was totally outnumbered! Then the most horrific thing that could ever happen to anyone happened!!! The ring leader unbuttoned his trousers and thrust himself in me!! My body rose in the air like a dead corpse!

They eventually left swearing and spitting, leaving me for dead promising to be back! I was bleeding and crying for my mum uncontrollably. I was damaged far more than anyone could ever imagine!

Even though the situation was extreme and I was at my weakest, I needed to find a way out before they came back and finished me off for good! I had no money, no id or anything to my name for that matter. By the grace of God I found a phone card that had fallen on the floor beside my sideboard which miraculously had some credit on it. I rang one of Luca’s friends from the phone booth just outside my flat who I had met a while back because his number was an easy number to remember and for some very strange reason it was stuck in my head. It was a risk no doubt but I had nothing to loose.

I managed to speak to him and he advised me that I should go and stay with him which I did. He turned out to be an angel. He put me in contact with my family who then sent me some money over to get a new passport made from the embassy, a ticket to come back, a mobile phone and anything else that I needed.

Getting a new passport was by far a challenge and a half. I had to go to the police to get an official letter to say that my passport was missing which took weeks. I had to go everyday to the police station and tell my story to different officers. They obviously never exchanged notes! During this time I had become so frail! I was losing my hair, weight and not to forget my confidence which was nonexistent!

My family were in panic mode wondering whether I would ever return to the UK again? There was one particular time where I had lost the will and I remember vividly saying to my mother on the phone that I would never be coming back!

I feel blessed to have amazing friends as one of my friends from the UK found out that I was in trouble. She immediately contacted one of her friends who was visiting Dubai at the time, asking him to meet up with me and to accompany me to all the official offices to get my documents stamped and authenticated. He came to my rescue and was a huge tower of strength.

Eventually the day came when I finally said my goodbyes to Dubai. It didn’t feel real to me at all as I had lost all hope. I wasn’t myself anymore. I had lost everything!

I found it very difficult settling back into the UK. I wasn’t in a good place! I had to start my life from scratch which was no joke at the age of thirty! Every night I would have the same nightmare reoccurring which severely affected my sleep and my health!

Whilst in Dubai I didn’t have time to absorb all what had actually happened to me, I was just concerned about getting the hell out of there, but back in the UK it was starting to hit me more and affect me massively.

One day I took my mum and grand mother to a summer festival where my friend was performing. She had visited me in Dubai but I hadn’t mentioned anything to her about what was going on behind the scenes. We had a nice day and went back home at a reasonable time. Every day I was hating on myself more and more and on this particular day I was at my worse to the point where I ended up taking an overdose of paracetamols. I didn’t want to live anymore! I was found split seconds from death and saved. The ambulance had taken me to hospital and I had my stomach pumped. I stayed in hospital for a good few days and managed to arrange some counselling sessions with a psychiatrist. He encouraged me to get tested because I was sexually assaulted, which I did. I offloaded everything onto him which helped me hugely because it was building and bubbling up inside. I couldn’t bring myself to speak to my family about it!

Slowly slowly I was making progress. My confidence was coming back which was quite amazing. I decided to contact my model agencies to start working again. I loved my work and needed this to keep me sane!

I was truly blessed with another chance in life.

My test results came back negative and I started to enjoy life again.

After settling back and getting into routine I had a fantastic job offer of presenting a travel documentary in the UAE. I panicked but then decided that it would be good for me to go back and conquer my fears plus it was an opportunity of a lifetime to work with such bigwigs of the industry. I followed my heart and accepted the offer. I pulled through nicely after confiding in my colleague who supported me throughout!

I was always a traveller and felt that I needed a change. I was getting a lot of modelling work in London and so saw it as a sign to leave Lancashire and start afresh in London which is exactly what I did!

My life here has been fantastic and exhilarating. Naturally I still have some trust issues even today but not on the same level as before. I have surrounded myself with amazing positive people, my dear friends who have showed me how life should be lived. I am eternally grateful for their unconditional love and support!

It was important for me to write my book because it has helped me close this chapter of my life for good! Also I would not want anyone else to go through what I did, even if it is just that one person that learns from my experience. It’s a hugely educational rollercoaster read with a warning to others especially for people who have the travel bug and want to work and settle down abroad.

On the positive side of things, I am a much stronger person. I have learnt a very valuable lesson the hardest way possible. I have taken something so negative and turned it into something so positive! In my words- “What Breaks you, Makes you”!!!!

#nadeemahmed

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hjertetssunnegalskap1 · 6 years ago

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Tuesday Fic Recs (17.07.18 - 06.08.18)

Halla! I have taken some weeks off from reccing fics, but here are some of the fics I fell in love with during the last three weeks (sorry if this gets a little long on your phones):

Theme: Pulchritude. by Heroine (Evoxine) (1/1)

Summary: In which Even's family runs a flower shop, Isak literally falls for Even, and Even witnesses Isak cry over a wrap that is too spicy for Isak's poor taste buds.

Along the way, they fall in love.

Comment: Ah, I love this story, it's really sweet! ❤️ I love Isak and Even here, and their friends too. It was just so lovely to see their relationship develop. This fic gives me all the good feelings.

Not the End by nofeartina (8/?)

Summary: Sometimes a connection is so powerful that it can bend the fabric of space and time.

Or the parallel universe AU where Isak and Even find each other over and over again.

My comment: This fic is really intriguing, and I love it. ❤️ It visits some dark places and it is painful at times, but it’s also beautiful, magic and gripping and I’m hooked. I loved the latest update, too!

you took me with a glance by everythingislove (narrylife) (1/1)

“I was just wondering if it hurt?”

“If what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven?”

The boy sends him an entirely unamused expression. “Did you just call me Satan?”

Or: for a Hei Briskeby video, Even tries using cheesy pick-up lines on strangers. It goes better and worse than he expects.

Comment: This was a really sweet and funny meet-cute story! ❤️ I always love when Isak and Even are dorky and sweet like they are here.

a taste of you and me by skamz (1/3)

Isak finds himself frowning slightly, now. Improvising? Random ideas? Tweaking recipes?

He can't help but disagree with people who have this kind of approach to baking. Honestly, in what world is that the best thing about baking? It can't be, because it's just—

It's just risky, and you run the chance of ruining everything by doing things that way.

Baking involves following specific steps and not deviating from them, and doing so in order to end up with something right and good. In order to not risk ending up with something that's a mess and in order to know what to expect.

It just shouldn't be whatever this guy described it as.

Or: for Isak, baking is a science and for Even, it's more of an art, and they face each other in a baking competition.

Comment: This is such a lovely and sweet story! ❤️ I love how the boys approach learning differently in the kitchen, and how Even challenged Isak so that he tried something new. Now I can't wait to read the rest!

wait for me to come home by allyasavedtheday (6/10)

Summary: It really is a nice place.

And the dynamic between the three of them is one he could see himself settling into comfortably if given the chance.

Less than five minutes later they return from the kitchen with Eskild leading the charge. “It’s official!” he announces. “We want you to move in!”

“Really?” Even asks, feeling a wide smile stretch across his face. It almost feels too good to be true.

He’s finally doing it. He’s going out on his own and living his life on his own terms. And he just secured the first step.

An evak New Girl au.

Comment: Ah, this story is so sweet, it’s perfect. ❤️ I love how Isak and Even is written, and the other characters, too. And the sweet tension between Isak and Even is just so good. The boys are slowly figuring stuff out and they're just too cute, I love it so much!

Masters of their own domain by evakuality (6/6)

Summary: “Get out of my fucking way, Jonas,” Isak is saying as he pushes the box he’s holding into the back of his friend. Even stumbles to a halt behind him, alerted by Isak’s complaint to the sudden blockage in the stairwell above him. Jonas, for his part, flips Isak off behind his back, making Isak shift the box he’s holding with a groan, pressing it against the wall to steady it. That shift pulls the t-shirt Isak’s wearing hard against the planes of his back, which is right in front of Even’s eyes as he stands on a lower step, and that in turn makes Even’s mouth go dry.

Aka, a week in their life after they move into their new apartment.

Comment: I’ll say it again: Oh. My. God. ❤️ I’m so grateful for this amazing birthday gift of a fic. This is so sweet and it has it ALL! The boys are so sweet together, and Isak is so strong and they are just like I imagine them. I love that this is a fic where we get to see the boys together, as a couple. Actually, I didn’t realize how much I missed these boys before I started to read this fic.

Holy Fuck by arindwell

Summary: "Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you please come over here and put your dick in my face?"

Isak looks up instantly at that, with this expression of shock and delight that Even loves, and which makes his heart clench in his chest.

Comment: This was such a cool birthday gift and such a surprise, so I’ll say it again: Oh my god!!! ❤️ This fic is such a firework of sweet, funny boys and hotness! The boys are so them, too. I love it. I really hope I get to read some more smoking hot scenes from this writer.

Two Night Stand by sundaymournin

Isak and Even met on Grindr and are forced to extend their one-night stand because of a snowstorm (based on the film).

Comment: I don't know the movie this fic is based on, but I really like this fic. ❤️ It was sweet, hot and funny. The ending was adorable, too. This fic had everything, really! :)

Uke 27 Even Bech Næsheim by Ane_Rikke_Jegass (orphan_account) (5/5)

Summary: Isak hadde bestemt seg for at disse airbnb-greiene var noe ordentlig herk. Og det var så godt når man hadde bestemt seg for noe. Da kunne man legge vekk den irriterende tvilen, og heller tilpasse seg det man hadde bestemt seg for. Beslutningsvegring? Heller beslutningsmani, si. Bestem deg og tilpass deg. Ferdig med saken.

Comment: Ah, denne var fin! ❤️ Jeg fikk et tips om denne, og det er jeg utrolig glad for. Det var så lett å kjenne igjen Isak og Even, og historien var riktig godt skrevet.

i ain't no hercules by grinsekaetzchen

Sometimes Isak thinks it would be easier if he could tell himself a story. A story of how the world came to an untimely end, of how it burned to the ground and how the few survivors stared on in horror, illuminated by the flames. A story of those survivors going on to save others in spite of everything. And later, when they were successful in repopulating the Earth, they would be called heroes. There would be celebrations in their honour. There would be people alive because of them.

The problem is: Isak may be one of the survivors, but he’s definitely not one of the heroes.

[Part 2 of the Post-Apocalypse AU "if you must live, darling one, just live"]

Part 3 of a universe created by ourselves

Comment: Damn. This is so good. Painful, but good. ❤️ I have somehow missed some of the earlier parts of this series too, so I read three of them in a row. And I'm just speechless. I love this so much.

(you'll always be my) thunder by kittpurrson (3/3)

They’re here for two weeks of pure bliss: rowing, racing, and scouting out the other clubs to see where they’re at before the next racing season begins. All Isak cares about are the lake and the wake--they’re the things that make the difference.

Then, of course, he meets Even. [A Sommersturm AU]

Comment: This is such a good fic, I just love it so much. ❤️ The setting is interesting, and I love how it's all set up. The characterisation is so right and I love the vibe of it all. Actually, I have thought about them several times on my holiday, when I have seen rowers or other things that reminded me of them. Now I kinda hope that we get to see more of them.

tie my heartstrings by Fxckxxp (1/1)

That boy wearing Even's old sweater is really, really cute.

Comment: This is such a sweet, sweet story. ❤️ So cute. It’s really well written, too. There’s not much more to say, really, it’s perfect. I love it and this must be just the right fic to read when it’s grey and raining and you need something to pick you up.

something in the language of trees by scarletbluebird (1/1)

Summary: Meet Isak Valtersen: Premed student by day, insomniac shit poet by night. Future doctor? Who the fuck knows.

He’s passing through the main square when he sees it, pinned up to the message board. Bright pink and flapping in the wind. At first he thinks he’s misread so he stops and back tracks, pressing the paper flat against the board. Nope, it still says the same thing:

looking for a friend for my 23 year old son. Pays 500kr/wk. serious inquiries only please.

“What the fuck?” He squints at it, suspiciously. Could it be some weird project the psych kids are doing?

He waffles for a moment but ultimately decides to take a picture of the flyer with his phone. Desperate times call for desperate measures, as they say. Plus, Eskild is gonna start selling his stuff online while Isak is away in class if he doesn’t start paying his portion of the rent on time. He tells himself he doesn’t actually have to call the number as he shuffles his way to class.

AU where Isak's job really was to be Even's friend

Comment: I got a tip about this fic and I’m really glad I read it! ❤️ I somehow missed it when it was posted, probably because I was sceptical about the part with the note. But this is really great, and so beautiful. I enjoyed it so much.

in retrospect, better by vesperthine (1/1)

Summary: This whole thing, this night, it’s like a montage; recreating important nights in infinity, calling those moments back like cutting out pieces of photographs. Picking the good parts, amplifying them through the lens of knowing it all turned out well.

Comment: Damn. This fic is so beautiful, lovely and real, and so hot, too. ❤️ I love the banter between the boys, saying a lot about them and their relationship without really saying it. It must be an artform in itself to do that.

nothing sure in this world by withoutwords (1/1)

“What’s this?” Sana asks, pointing at something over Even’s shoulder. “Cheese toast? On a wedding menu?”

“It’s a thing.”

“Right.”

Comment: This is a really lovely story, and so amusing, too. ❤️ I have this ridiculous thing that I kinda avoid proposals in fics, probably because I’m a cold hearted idiot or something, but I’m so glad I discovered this lovely, lovely fic. It was so worth it.

written in the stars by ourlovelybones (2/2)

Summary: Even sits down on the floor beside him, his fingers playing with his laminated VIP badge. “You’re overthinking the crowd thing. They weren’t dead, per se. You’re just a little tired.”

Isak is very tired, but it’s still not the right word to explain the heavy feeling in his bones and the empty weight in his heart. He should be over the moon right now. He should be dancing with Even to the venue’s after-show playlist and drinking beer to celebrate his best friend agreeing to finish out the rest of his U.S tour with him. It’s more than exhaustion he feels but Isak can’t quite describe exactly what it is - and certainly not to the person who took a whole two weeks off of work to come on this tour.

{the one where even follows isak around on tour but isak doesn't want to deal with his feelings}

Comment: Ah, this fic really gripped me. ❤️ Isak and Even are so real and their surroundings are so vividly described, that I get sucked right in. And the pining... The second part was so heartbreaking that I almost wanted to cry as well. Now I only wish there was more.

cut off my fingers to touch your smile by bbyfruit (3/8)

There’s a soulmark on his arm, unmistakable in its swirling colors, blues and reds and purples, and it’s exactly where he collided with the kid earlier.

“Oh, shit,” Even whispers, staring at it, mesmerized.

Mikael looks at him halfway amazed and halfway worried. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Even says grimly. “I guess I met him.”

Comment: Ah, I love this story. ❤️ I love Isak and Even and I really really love that you can have more than one soulmate in this verse. Now I’m desperate to figure out what happens next.

_____

I hope you find something you like! For better and more well-articulated fic recs, check out the great rec blogs @evakteket and @evaksbinder . Oh, and you can also check out all the interesting fics and lovely art that come from the Skam Reverse Bang this week.

Good reading!

#skam #fics #fic rec tuesday #I should have said a lot more about each fic #but this is three weeks of reading peeps #check them out #lots of good reads

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dwardjspring · 3 years ago

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Dave Garland. R.I.P

It was a Sunday Morning in New Zealand. I woke to messages from Mirka and Viv and I couldn’t believe what they said. No… That couldn’t be. I couldn’t really believe what they said. I chose to push it aside and went for my normal Sunday morning swim in the lake, with the club. I was out for over an hour and a quarter. Long swim. People were wondering where I’d gone. And all I could think about was Dave the whole time out there, the water flowing around me like moving through time and memories.

Since then I’ve read online in the MTB press and various pages and peoples posts of Dave's passing. The word ’legend’ is often used and I think apt in the world of mountain bike suspension tuning and DH race set up. It’s fair to say he knew everything there was to know and more importantly, how to deliver it effectively. ‘Mercurial’ would be another fair use word of his knowledge in that dark art.

Dave left behind his wife Mirka. They had been married 4 years or so. Not long. And his daughter Niva. Now 21.

I read Niva’s post on her Facebook timeline later that same Sunday morning - of her feelings for her Dad and how she could have acted differently towards him.

There have been a number of eulogies for Dave, particularly this one by Si Paton, but so too, I want to say something from myself about my good friend Dave. This is my story of Dave. Written from my perspective. I’ve written it because I need to write it.

Dave arrived into my life in 1999 brought into Grip DH Mountain Bike magazine prior to Issue One whilst we were still in the planning stage by Editor Jerry Dyer, whom I’d headhunted from Dirt Magazine. Jerry ‘HAD’ to have a technical editor and Dave was it. So I hired him, not that I think I had any say in the matter! Those were fantastic days at the Air Publications office in the middle of Worcester. We had a real buzz going with all the magazines functioning out of that top floor on Trinity Street. Viv Jenkins, whom I had known since 1990, or even a little earlier, through snowboarding, arrived at the offices not long after Dave, rustled up by Ad Manager Wendy as she needed more help in the advertising department, what with five publications pumping. Dave and Viv took a shine to each other. They both had a BMX background. On a night out on The Shambles with the whole crew in tow Dave and Viv hooked up. That very first connection, on that particular night resulted in Niva nine months later. It was as simple as that. A one time moment with an ongoing expected commitment once the pregnancy became clear, which I don’t think Dave or Viv were really ready for.

It turned out to be a tumultuous time for all of us at Air Publications because over that next nine months a great deal happened. Dave and Viv ended up living in our house for about a month. They’d given up their house with other Air Pub staffers and they were working for free as we were trying to find a buyer for the publishing business as it had hit some rocky ground. We thought we could rescue the business, but we couldn’t. The short version was the breakdown of Air Publications, the loss of all our jobs and the dissipation of a lot of action sports potential. But that’s another story…

Dave was particular. He was a details sort of guy. When Grip was doing studio photo shoots of the DH bikes, everything had to be perfect. The backdrop, the lighting, the bike and its arrangement (of course). But I mean perfect. He created the studio in a grimy area downstairs, which we weren’t actually renting but it was a forgotten area, doing nothing, so he and Jerry commandeered it. Dave made me buy all the backdrops and lighting equipment, because of course it had to be perfect. The photographer we ‘HAD’ to use (Jerry Dyer catch phrase), Paul Bliss, also had to deliver, which he always did anyway being just as particular as Dave. The outcome of all that perfection and graphic design deliberation over minutiae was Grip DH Mountain Bike magazine. You may not have even heard of it as we only managed three issues. Dave wrote, but writing was not his forté, but the content of what he was writing was standout. It was different. It elevated the magazine. He just needed some editing help. He had the vision on where DH MTB should go from where it was at that time, and he was every bit the magazine editor alongside Jerry. Grip eclipsed Dirt magazine, the established market leader for DH at the time, and between ‘them’ and ‘us’ there was a fair bit of rivalry. Funnily enough, after Grip folded, Dirt started to take on the look and feel Grip had crafted and the direction the industry needed to move towards. Dave had every part in that.

Dave and Viv had to make decisions and for them it involved moving to Chamonix in France to be in the heart of the European snowboard scene but importantly for Dave, a blossoming mountain bike community over the summer months. They went there to make a go of it, prior to the birth of their baby, because they really did love each other. Dave started at Zero G shop and started increasing the bike activity angle of the store.

Niva famously arrived early on the 1st January 2000, the first child of the new millennium to be born in Chamonix, France. One of life's little surprises that has always stuck with me. But it was hard for them both - Dave and Viv. No family around, little support in a foreign land, a language barrier, struggling to get by financially. He worked hard. And did long hours. Very long hours. I talked a lot with him regularly, visited the store a few times and the small flat in Cham where they lived. In 2000 I was also coincidentally working in France for Regis Rolland at A Snowboards. Dave told me things weren’t particularly good between him and Viv because of all these life pressures. I think he spent so long at the store as an escape. But Viv, now with a baby to take care of, was finding it harder. Isolated, no money, no Dave who was off ‘promoting’ the store, you know, having beers, shooting shit with the boys, riding bikes. Well, he just was not around...

One day towards the end of summer in 2000 from recollection, Dave got back from being away at a race, went home to their tiny flat to find Viv and Niva were gone. Gone. Nothing there. The place was empty. Everything was gone. They’d up and left. I don’t know the exact details here but Viv had taken Niva and left back to Liverpool.

That day or the very next day I just so happened to be collecting my bag from the Geneva airport arrivals carousel. There's about six carousels all laid out in a row. One of the end walls is entirely made of glass so people waiting in the arrivals hall on land side can see the incoming people fresh off their flight getting their bags. I was waiting, looking out through the glass looking for my pick up, and there was Dave looking right at me! I don’t know who was more surprised, me or him, but I quickly saw he was distraught. He told me what had happened. He had driven to Geneva to pick up his brother or relation, or maybe it was his mum, I can’t remember now, but he was not in a good way. We made a bunch of phone calls on my phone to people back in the UK trying to track Viv down, to find out where Viv may have gone. Dave didn’t know what to do, or what to do with himself. He was pacing around backwards and forwards in worry and frustration and a sort of anger. He realised he’d fucked up. He told me that.

Very soon after, Dave moved back to the UK to Chester in an effort to be close to Viv and his baby daughter Niva. He was making the effort. He’d packed it all in at the shop and left behind all that he had been trying to do. That was not the actions of a man who didn’t care. And from this period, with Dave back in the UK in Chester, with his estranged partner and daughter Niva not far away in Liverpool, this was when Stendec was born. Dave and I started Stendec together.

Dave had realised and understood that mountain bike suspension servicing and tuning was fast becoming ‘a thing’. And that it was only going to grow. His knowledge of this thing was from ‘source’. He seemed to have the source code, the alchemist's stone, from which all knowledge derived to put it in a way you may understand. He had the Gold. The know-how to turn lead into gold. He just ‘knew’ what to do with suspension. But he needed help with the set up, the creation of the company, the accounts, the finance, the day to day boring systems in order for Stendec to function. That was my role.

Do you know where the word Stendec came from? It was the last message sent by an aeroplane as it was flying over the Andes at the end of the 1940’s through thick clouds before it crashed into a mountainside. The morse code message was S.T.E.N.D.E.C. No one knows what it meant. There are conspiracy theories based on it. But essentially no one knows what it meant because it doesn’t mean anything. It could be anything we needed it to be. Dave had been mulling it over for ages, the name, and he loved the whole story behind that word, so that’s what it was. He came up with that name for the company.

In fact he loved coming up with words to describe a new product. ‘Black Box Technology’, ‘Tuning in a Box’, ‘The Shock Footprint’. He helped me with names for the A Snowboards 2001/02 range I was working on. He really wanted me to call one of the boards ‘The Vocoder’ - “voice code your ride”. He very nearly got his wish.

We had a small industrial unit upstairs in a building very close to Chester town centre. Dave signed for it at the end of March 2001. We’d go for sandwiches round the corner at lunch time. For a cider or beer or two (or four) after work. I’d drive up from Worcester for two or three days each week in my Citroen BX Turbo. It blew up on one occasion leaving me limping off the motorway. I can’t remember any more but I think I gave the car to him when I left for New Zealand. We’d plan the business, we’d work out what the race season was going to be and plan to be at as many races as possible. Pagey would drop by. So funny. Products were created talking in the workshop, drinking our cider/beers. The range of exclusive oils, the brake fluids, the silicon spray, the grease, the springs. That all came from Dave, he did all the sourcing work, and with the oils for instance, got the oil chemist to come up with a slightly different concoction to Dave’s requirements. Back then there were, like, ten different oil weights we needed, and each of them could be combined to create mid weight oils to be perfect in the forks and shocks. The marketing words around it all came from me, and we had the special genius of Ian Roxburgh as the packaging and logo designer. Ian was the long time senior graphic designer on all of the magazines of Air publications. I remember Dave saying we needed to make springs, so we went off on a factory visit to the spring factory in Birmingham he’d found watching them being made. Coiled, heated, tempered, the ends ground, the Stendec logo printed on the coil of each spring... It was all expensive, all those products. I don’t know if we really made any money, but hell, it was a fantastic brand all backed up by Daves race knowledge and ‘source’ code. It all added to the whole. It was greater than the sum of its parts that’s for sure. The springs eventually ended up being produced by Eibach and Dave even found a supplier of the elusive Titanium Spring. So cool.

Dave's knowledge was as much a hindrance as a benefit. When I was up in Chester in the workshop I was supposed to answer the phone to allow Dave the time to actually service the forks and shocks before dispatching them back out the door. But of course the phone would go and nobody wanted to talk with me, because one, they didn’t know who I was and two, I didn’t know shit (well, not the correct shit), they just wanted to talk with Dave. The true fountain of knowledge. So we quickly found we needed systems to allow Dave to work and talk.

During all this, Dave connected with Giant Bikes and proposed to them that Stendec be awarded the contract to run the Giant Bikes Dealer Demo program, and through that we had our first employee, Pete Crump. It was a fairly crammed itinerary and Pete would be up and down the country in a very big van demo-ing Giant Bikes to the shops of the UK. That happened for two or three years I think. And Michelin tyres. So many tyres, oh my god ...

I had by this time, March 2002, moved to New Zealand to live with my wife of the time, one daughter and a baby boy, but during the first five years of living in NZ I’d be back to the UK so much, still working in the snowboard industry and going to stay with Dave. I was practically commuting. Dave had moved to North Wales and bought the farmhouse based off the back of the ‘business’, but to be honest I don’t know how he managed to pull that off as there was barely enough to feed Dave let alone a mortgage. I certainly didn’t see any return of my startup funds. Through this period, which I think was a tough time mentally for Dave, it seemed a little hand to mouth for him at times. I was not on the scene any more for day to day contact.

Dave didn’t know where Niva was or what she was doing. Not really. He really dropped out of her life. I don’t know if that was because he just couldn’t be bothered or it was simply too difficult for him. Things just stacked against him as a man and a father. He wasn’t good at providing financial support. Not really. I saw that. Viv picked that up, but too, the impression I got from Dave was Viv didn’t make it easy for him to see Niva. There were a lot of road blocks put in place. I know there are two sides to every story and I don’t know Viv’s story I admit. I only know what Dave told me and he could be, at times, frugal with the full story. But from my own subsequent experience it seemed hard for Dave to see his daughter. I felt Dave wasn’t trying very hard anymore to make an effort. But I sort of think he gave up trying because it was simply too hard for him because of the external circumstances. I have gaps of time where I am not aware of what may or may not have occurred between the three of them as Niva grew older and into a young woman. But overall I never really fully understood that. I’m sorry. I cannot judge.

As I read on Niva’s Facebook post on the day Dave died, and as Niva’s mothers friend so wisely stated in one of the replies, all Niva’s disclosures were not about her own failings. Niva did nothing wrong. The parents' difficulties were not about her. It was the way the dice rolled for her. It's easy to have perfect vision looking backward about what you should have / could have done, about decisions you could have made, about a relationship you could have had. As Niva said, her future dreams, those she thought she would enjoy at some point in the future with her dad, it turns out were nothing other than fantasy. They will never be. A tough but realistic observation on her part, I thought, when I read it. When Niva was about 13 or so, I remember how things were from Dave's perspective and how he relayed it to me, things were not so good between himself and Niva through that adolescent period. Again, I know he did try but I think over that period, although he had made some headway with Niva, it went slightly awry. So subsequently, I think he gave up even trying to try. That’s my own personal observation.

Dave came out to NZ with his friend Kellie in 2004 or so. They stayed for a few days on a big country wide tour. Again, we had lots of discussions but eventually, over the fullness of time (one of Dave’s favourite sayings), we just slowed down our talks. We talked less and less over the years, a function of being out of sight, thus out of mind. I watched as the Stendec brand became Dave’s vehicle. Even though technically it was 50% mine, really it was all Dave’s. I was his initial helping hand. Watching Dave from the other side of the world via RedBull TV, I’d watch all the World Cup DH’s religiously. I’d see Dave doing what he did so well, spannering for household names now - to make them household names, and felt real pride to see him at that level. That's where he was meant to be.

I was surprised when I saw Dave got married! I didn’t know he was seeing anyone. I didn’t ask as to why. It was a slightly grey period when I was not up to play on what was what. Friend Kellie just wasn’t around any more. Mirka appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, but too, she really seemed to have brightened his day. Mirka gave Dave some zest again. I saw it written large through the ether. I could feel it. The evolution of the springs into the standalone brand Super Alloy Racing and how Mirka deals with that has been tremendous to watch at a high level, primarily through the Enduro World Series. And then equally it seemed, out of nowhere, Dave created Stendec Data Acquisition. I just thought ‘brilliant’. What a thing to do. Such a lot of detail and thought and understanding had to go into that creation and Dave could see too, as he always did, that it had to be relevant to the biker in the street. I was surprised to see it, but at the same time, not surprised at all it had come out of Dave's brain. Of course it did.

I think Dave was a real character of a person. A strong driver within his art. The term ‘artist’ I think would also be a fair label for him. One of a kind. Generous. Knowledgeable. But so too, flawed like we all are to some extent. He thought long and hard about it all. Just a tiny bit broken, not quite complete - Niva was always there but not there. I don’t think that ever sat well with him. Dave was really hit by not being able to see his daughter properly over the years, right back from that initial shock departure, and he really cared, and I think it's important for Niva to read and hear this from someone who spent time with him, just how much he did care. Though he wasn't the best perhaps at showing it, or trying to reach out.

I feel too I missed the boat in talking more with Dave these past years. He was hard to get a hold of especially with his non-compliance of social media and stuff, but we both could have tried harder. I certainly could have. Now it's too late. I’m sad about that. There’s still things to do and talks I still wanted to have with Dave. I feel some responsibility for not doing it. There’s a lesson there for us all.

Dave Garland - 1967 - Nov 28th 2020 - Rest in Peace

Top photo: Dave featured on a poster in the centre of the first Stendec catalog. He was a pretty handy rider.

Addendum:

I found this whilst hunting… The last paragraph says a lot about Dave’s support for his riders and friends riding.

-----Original Message-----

From: Dave. Garland [mailto:[email protected]]

Sent: 14 February 2003 20:54

To: [email protected]

Subject: madison stuff

Hi Rob here's the list of stuff we could really do with to help the season along.

10x Mavic 521 32h cd

4x mavic 321 32h cd

5x dura ace ss rear mechs

5x ultegra 12-27 9speed cassettes

4x DT swiss blk comp spokes 258

6x DT swiss blk comp spokes 260

2x DT swiss blk comp spokes 262

4x xt 9speed rh shifters

2x sp40 gear housing

20x teflon gear inner wire

that's it. its about £500 worth

I got the new crowns and they look the bollox, Romic's sending full factory

shocks in about two weeks.

CALENDER.

STENDEC/MICHELIN SUPER SERIES; MARCH 29/30

DRAGON RD 1/2 APRIL5/6

SDA RND 1 12/13 APRIL

MAXXIS CUP RND2 23-27 APRIL

NPS RND1 3 / 4

SDA RND2 10/11 MAY

NPS2 24/25 MAY

WC RND1 29MAY-2ND JUNE

WC RND2 10-13 JUNE

NPS RND3 21/22 JUNE

SDA CHAMPS 4-6 JULY FORT WILL

DRAGON 8/9 9/10 AUG

NPS NAT CHAMPS 25-27 JULY

STENDEC/MICH 2/3 AUG BALA LAKE NWALES

NPSRND 4 16/17 AUG

EURO CHAMPS 21-24 AUG

WORLDS LAGANO 4-7 SEPT

WC 5 11-14 SEPT

NPS 5 20/21 SEPT

DRAGON 12/13 4/5 OCT

THIS IS THE TIME TABLE.

I know it might seem alot but as you know we got things at stake this year, Ian is looking for big things this year, from you especialy. I will give you support like you aint seen, just give a 100% back and we'll go places. for you i think you have to get used to winning races again, dont matter what series it is A WIN IS A WIN and when you get used to winning you want to win everything.

We have the strongest team in briton this year and the best supported so everyone's gotta pull their weight.

speak soon

Dave

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awed-frog · 7 years ago

Note

I saw your notes on the outrageous post about the 1% and I couldn't help but be curious about they things your friend experienced...

Hi there! So, yeah, it’s kind of a freakish story, because Iwent to high school with this girl - we were in the same class, andshe was so sweet - the bookwormish and Did you know there’sa wasp called Aha ha and ‘save the whales’ kind ofstudent, you know? And after graduating, she studied maths, and thenwe sort of lost touch - I heard she was working in London when I wasliving in the UK, so I reached out and got a very weird email back.We finally met on a train, just randomly, about five years afterthat, and that’s when she told me what had happened to her.

[Disclaimer: I’m not saying all banks and consulting companiesare cults, but if how much money you make depends on how many peopleyou screw over, then maybe it’s normal you attract a crowd ofpsychopaths and pathological narcissists, and things generally godownhill from there.]

So, the thing is - with a maths degree, you can do a lot of stuff,but my friend had a bit of an adulting crisis at the end of herstudies, because, she told me, every choice seemed so very permanentand she wasn’t ready to commit to a 3-years research program orteacher training or whatever, and this is when she was headhunted bythe banking industry and basically they made her believe they’d bethe right fit for her.

(And let me just say - because of my Oxford degree, I’ve beentargeted as well, and that one evening I spent with them remains oneof the scariest beyond the looking glass shit I’veever experienced in my life.)

Of course, their offer is dreamy - a flexible whatever, she leaveswhen she wants, she gets a free course in what they need her to do, asalary with a shitton of zeroes and the job is based infucking London - and at this point, my friend isstill a normal a kid and she’s thinking, I’m notenthusiastic about what banks get up to and it’s not the mostinteresting thing I could do with my degree, but hey, maybe I canlive in the UK for a couple of years and make some money and thenfind something better. And so off she went, and as she told meabout how she found her first flat, well, that’s the same thing Iwas going through in that same period some sixty miles away, becauseshe still had a normal budget (what she’d saved till then? summerjobs and grandparents’ gifts and some paid grading) and it’s hardto find a reasonably priced room in London, so she had to picksomething that was more than one hour away from the City and thatsounded like a very boring and long commute, but hey, London! And atthis point, you know, she looked out of the window, and her storystarted to become a bit more disconnected, jumping back and forth, soI’ll try to piece it together chronologically, but man, it wasreally chilling to hear it out of order, and I wish you’d beenthere with me because I don’t know how well I can put it intowords.

Anyway, so the first thing that’s a problem are her clothes: shecan see that as soon as she steps into the place, the way people lookat her, and she doesn’t get it, because she’s wearing this smartpantsuit she’s already uncomfortable in, and what the fuck? Andluckily she doesn’t have to wonder long, because that’s, like,the first thing her boss (a man) says to her: that she can’t dresslike that, because she’s going to meet clients from time to timeand that’s just not appropriate and my friend - a shy 23-year-oldwho grew up in the mountains, in a village of 46 people - stilldoesn’t know what she’s doing wrong, exactly, and it’sso embarrassing, because this is a man twenty years hersenior and her boss and she’s talking to her like she’s naked orsome shit, and finally - finally - he explains that she can’t buyoff the rack - tailor-made only, please. And she’s so stunned shejust babbles that she can’t afford that and this guy - this guytakes his wallet and places, like, 10 000 pounds on the deskand Please go get changed.

(“It was like Pretty Woman,” my friendsaid, “except creepier, because I didn’t know the rules. Ididn’t know, well - I was shocked. Like, was that a test? Should Itake the money or not? And if I take it, does that come out of mypaycheck? Is it a gift? Do I have a choice over the clothes I wear ornot? Should I stand up for myself or give up? How do I make a goodimpression here?”)

And the thing is, you want to be polite, right? You want to fitin. You assume other people know better.

(Especially as a young woman.)

And so my friend took the money and said thank you and spent herfirst morning shopping in a weird luxury place that only had one ofeach and came with complimentary champagne and truffle-flavoured hamand there were no curtains and no changing rooms and she had to stripdown to her underwear right in front of the saleswoman, but it alsodidn’t matter because she was the only customer and the shop lookedlike someone’s living room and again, what are the rules?

And the thing is - the way she described it, every day was likethat in several small, insidious ways, every day there were athousand moments when she didn’t know what people expected fromher, and slowly the desire to be a good colleague turned into a thisis completely normal and how everyone lives thing and shedidn’t even notice it was happening.

Like, at first she’d been shocked by the price of meals. Peoplewould routinely order up food, or go out for dinner and spendthousands of pounds on one lunch.

(Thousands. Of. Pounds.)

And she’d been shocked by the rent of her new apartment (with a60-minute commute, she had maybe two hours of sleep a night, so shehad to move closer to the City), because £5000 a month? Back in uni,that had been her budget for a whole semester. And she’dbeen shocked by how many clothes and shoes and designer handbags sheseemed to be needing. And at how she’d stopped doing anything forherself, or having any control over her body - she never had the timeto cook, or even shop (her luxury kitchen was pristine, her fridgeempty), and someone would come into work and do her hair and nailsand whatever else it is that women need and barely ask her aboutstyle and colour because they could see she was out of her depth.

(“You remember how I was before, right? When I first arrived inLondon, I didn’t know how foundation worked. I never painted mynails, either. For job interviews and stuff I’d wear some of thateasy-to-apply eyeliner and mascara and feel like Greta Garbo, but inmy office, it was considered - people just frowned at you, you know?Or disregarded your wishes, or whatever. One day - it must have beena week after I started - a beautician just showed up, started talkingto me as if we’d arranged an appointment, asked me to chose betweenfour shades of pink that looked the same to me. Turns out, acolleague had told her to come to me next, already paid for it, sowhat do you do? I had to sit there in front of everybody and let thiswoman do my nails - I felt like an animal in a zoo, but nobody waslooking at me, nobody found it weird.”)

And, look, I can’t really explain it the way she did, but whathappened next was that she didn’t have time to come home for avisit for, like, eight months, and when she finally showed upeveryone was half proud, half terrified, because yeah, she lookedgood and rich and successful, but she was also -completely different? When she’d left, she’d beenthis normal kid, vaguely left-wing, who’d liked hiking and onlyowned sport bras, and now she was - she was weird. Shehad no sense of reality. No compassion for anything or anyone. Shewas cold, annoyed by everything, incredulous at the fact herfavourite brands were not available in local shops, insisting thather parents and siblings should buy this and that to make their livesbetter. She ended up fighting with mostly everyone and going back toLondon after three days, and in the year after that, she only tookholidays with colleagues - three days of snorkeling in Kenya, aprivate plane party, a weekend of golfing in Scotland - and now shewas the one ordering the most expensive bottle on the menu androlling her eyes at badly-dressed interns, because - she’d made it.She was the 1%.

(Or would get there, anyway.)

Luckily, there’s a happy ending, and it’s surprisinglyanticlimatic.

One night, my friend looked up from a party of high-endprostitutes and drunken antics and she suddenly saw how crazy andunhealthy it all was. It just happened. She looked at the woman onher left, snorting cocaine and laughing, and then at the man on herright, who had a stripper on his lap, and she just - stood up andleft. The very next day, she quit the firm, donated half her earningsto charity, travelled through South America for three months beforegoing back to university. Now she’s a researcher (she doessomething complicated to do with game theory, and I don’tunderstand any of it), and also - she’s back to her old lovelyself. She sees her friends, she gets on well with her family. She’skind. She’s normal. As I said - happy ending.

#ask #the 1%#meanwhile irl #i know this is just one story #but i heard very similar things #from other people #private banks and consulting firms #seem to be the worst offenders #and btw #never underestimate how easy it is to be brainwashed #big companies do it for a living #and they're damn good at it

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noahfence1d · 5 years ago

Link

This time nine years ago, five teenage boys' dreams were in tatters after being rejected from the X Factor .

It took the lads just five minutes to agree to his plan and have another crack at the competition - this time in the groups category.

They would go on to be one of the most successful boybands of the century, selling out stadiums and dominating the charts for five years before splitting in an explosion of bitterness and animosity.

But with no experience of harmonies, group singing or even each other, even then Liam wondered what they were really getting into.

"We had seen each other at Bootcamp and got on well, and Niall and I had shared a room. But we were competition then, and at the back of the minds we knew were against each other," Liam would later recall.

"So it was strange when we were put together and my first thought was, 'How are we going to make this work when we don't know each other? It was such a leap of faith."

Desperate to catch up with the other bands, the newly-formed five-piece spent an intense two intense weeks practising in a bungalow at the bottom of Harry's step-dad's garden in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.

"We used to be at each other’s throats on the X Factor," Louis admitted on their This Is Us DVD of his clashes with Liam.

"Whenever I wanted to do anything slightly mischievous, he was always the daddy."

"Me and Louis did not get on at all," Wolverhampton-born Liam agreed. "We were two completely different characters. There was one point where I literally wanted to whack him."

Nevertheless, they sailed through the live shows and came third in the final before scoring a record deal with Cowell, who for them made n exception of only signing the winning act.

A mysterious fall out

Then suddenly at the start of 2012 they allegedly stopped talking and moved out.

“Apart from Harry and Louis, no one knows exactly what caused the falling out — they didn’t even tell the other boys the full details," a source told The Sun at the time.

“But it was very serious and their friendship has never recovered. Everyone involved in the band is well aware of the animosity between them.

“It’s been central to everything else that came next with the band because there was suddenly a massive divide.”

However, Niall dismissed the claims, telling fans not to believe the reports.

"We stand strong as a band and we’re brothers," he tweeted.

Those 'gay sex' rumours

One theory was that the 'Larry Stylinson' fan fiction depicting the pair as lovers had pushed them apart.

Louis, in particular, was extremely sensitive about the claims and admitted the speculation about their sexuality 'created an atmosphere'.

"People can believe what they want, but it comes across as a little bit disrespectful to the ones that I love, like (girlfriend) Eleanor (Calder)," he said.

"I'm so protective over things like that, about the people I love. So it created this atmosphere between the two of us."

Zayn told how Harry and Louis had even dialled back their physical friendship in an attempt to stop the rumours.

"It's not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them. They won't naturally go put their arm around each other because they're conscious of this thing that's going on, which is not even true," he said.

While Harry likes to keep people guessing about his sexuality, refusing to put a label on it, Louis has categorically said he is heterosexual.

And he was raging when a cartoon featured in HBO show Euphoria depicted a sex scene between him and Harry last month.

"I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it," he raged on Twitter , with a source telling The Sun he was 'angered' that an 'awkward' situation had been made worse.

Drug scandal

Whatever the cause of the tension, the rift only grew wider when Zayn and Louis were filmed smoking what appeared to be cannabis in the back of an SUV en route to a concert in Peru in 2014.

Narrating from behind the camera as he filmed Zayn lighting what appeared to be a joint, Louis could be heard saying, "So here we are, leaving Peru. Joint lit. Happy days!"

Talking about Zayn taking his warm-up 'seriously', he continued, "One very very important factor of Zayn’s warm up of course if Mary J herself. In fact I will present it to him now for some fantastic singing."

Straight-laced Harry - who wasn't even much of a drinker - was apparently 'furious' they'd taken the shine off the start of their UK stadium tour with their 'stupid and reckless' behaviour.

"Harry is annoyed about the whole debacle. This should be one of the biggest weeks of the band's career... Instead it has been taken over by this controversy," an insider told The Sun.

"Despite Harry's reputation, he's incredibly professional and mature, and not into these sorts of antics," the source added.

Booze battles

It wasn't just Louis and Zayn who were in Harry's bad books.

Liam's partying was so out of control that Harry reportedly refused to go socialise with the band unless good guy Niall was there to keep the peace.

"The pressures of fame and being on the road for two years have made Liam ill," a source told The Sun of the star, who would go on to admit fame 'nearly killed me'.

“He was devastated about letting everyone down, especially the fans, but he wasn’t physically able to get on stage. He had a complete meltdown.”

On another occasion he turned up to a fan event so drunk that it finally gave him a wake-up call.

"I'm not afraid to say that I actually went through a pretty bad [drinking] stage," he told Attitude magazine.

"There were just a few times that I went over the limit with things and then I had to pull it back.

"I was very fortunate that I had lots of great people around me who said to me, 'Look Liam, you need to chill out a bit now.'"

Admitting he used alcohol to cope with the strain of performing near-constant touring, he said being drunk was like putting on a Disney costume before stepping out on stage.

"Underneath the Disney costume I was pissed quite a lot of the time because there was no other way to get your head around what was going on,” he told Men's Health.

“I mean, it was fun. We had an absolute blast, but there were certain parts of it where it just got a little bit toxic.”

The pact

The band was fraying at the seams. Zayn was constantly in the headlines, accused of cheating on then-fiancée Perrie Edwar - which he vehemently denied.

There were rumours that he wanted out of 1D - despite the deal they were said to have made to release five albums and a greatest hits record before going on a 'hiatus'.

But Zayn blindsided everyone by suddenly quitting in March 2015 after a concert in Hong Kong.

In a statement he later admitted had nothing to do with him, he claimed he wanted to be a 'normal 22- year old'.

"I wasn't going to spend another minute doing something which made me ill and which I no longer believed in," he said of his shock exit.

Harry was seen openly crying on stage during their performance the next night.

But behind the scenes, the lads were reportedly furious.

“The others knew Zayn would have a head start by leaving first, like Robbie Williams did when he quit Take That," said a pal.

“It was frustrating to them as Zayn only had to hang on in there a few months and 1D would have gone on their long break united.”

Zayn would later go so far as to claim he'd wanted to leave the band from the very beginning and that he hated their music.

Friends no more?

Meanwhile, absence has only made the feud grow stronger, particularly between Louis and Zayn after the latter failed to support him on the X Factor following his mum's death in December 2016.

"I had a couple of calls with him after I lost my mum and all the boys had agreed to come to that performance and he didn't show, so that really bugged me," he said on the Dan Wootton podcast.

"It was just seeing everyone there – Harry, Niall and Liam – that was what I needed that night, that support," he said. "So on the other end of the spectrum it kind of really showed. So, eh, I hope he's alright, but..."

Niall admits he doesn't even have Zayn's number and that he's constantly changing it, while Zayn sniped that he didn't 'really' speak to Harry when they were in the band so didn't expect to have a friendship after.

"I ain't spoke to any of them for a long time, to be honest with you. That's just the way it is," he told Vogue.

"There's things that happen and things that were said after I left...Snide things. Small things that I would never have expected."

So could they ever reunite?

While Louis says it's 'inevitable', Harry reportedly isn't on the same wavelength.

“Since stepping away from 1D Harry has really enjoyed life outside that pop bubble," a source said.

“And right now he has absolutely no desire to get 1D back together.”

#one direction

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