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flemingsfreckles · 7 months ago

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Physio’s Daughter pt.4

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Read the previous parts here

Warnings: a little cursing, a small bit of homophobia (it’s minor teasing by a child)

WC: 4.3k

A/N: I struggled with this part, so I do apologize for how long it took and that it’s shorter. There’s a lot of timeline jumps in this part just as a heads up. I know where the story is going to end up I’m just having a hard time making the plot to get it there.

It was Jessie’s fault your attempt at being just coworkers failed so quickly. It was only hours after you had said goodbye to her in the lobby of the training center when you received a notification on your phone.

_jessflem has requested to follow you

You smirked down at the notification. You knew she wasn’t big on social media so the follow felt intentional. You open your phone to accept her follow request and go to follow her back only to realize you already followed her. You also weren’t too keen on social media, you really didn’t have the time with school, but you found yourself in typical behavior with the other young adults your age, “stalking” Jessie’s page.

You scroll all the way to her last photo, it’s just a scenery shot. You look at it for a second before starting to scroll back up. Too frenzied with your scrolling you feel the phone vibrate in your hand slightly, the same way it vibrated if you liked a photo.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you stop your scrolling, starting to slowly scroll backward to see that you had just liked a photo from 2020. Four years ago. It was one of her smiling, holding a soccer ball in her Chelsea training kit. She looked adorable.

Jessie Fleming: Doing a bit of stalking, are we?

The sound of your text notification making you jump in your otherwise silent apartment. Before you can even open the first text you receive a second.

Jessie Fleming: Do you stalk all your coworkers, or just the ones you’ve kissed?

You: Hard to say, I haven’t kissed any other coworkers, maybe I’ll have to kiss some other ones and see if it leads to stalking.

Jessie Fleming: Fair

You leave her text without a response. You had both agreed to be professional, this seemed like it was going to maybe be the opposite of you kept texting her.

You close Instagram and move from your couch into the kitchen. You were excited for your next few days to be off days. You planned to essentially do nothing but sit, watch trashy TV and do anything to keep your mind from wandering and thinking about Jessie. Moving to the fridge you get out some ingredients to make yourself chicken and pasta, it was easy but it also counted as a home cooked dinner so you couldn’t complain.

In the middle of digging through your cabinets for spices you get a knock on your door. Skeptical of who it may be, you move to the door slowly, looking though the peep hole. There stood your Mom, not someone coming to murder you, well, you’re not too sure on that you think.

You open the door to see her standing with a bouquet of flowers and a brown paper bag tucked under her arm.

“Can I come in?” She wasn’t exactly the person you wanted to be seeing right now but she was your Mom, so you extended you hand to take the bag and let her in.

“Are you here to yell at me again, because I’ve honestly had enough over the past couple of days to last a lifetime, I don’t need any more.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” she gently smacks the top of your head. “I’m actually here to apologize. Do you think I’d bring snacks and drinks if I was here to yell at you?”

“Maybe you brought them to flaunt in my face while you yelled at me.”

Your Mom rolls her eyes at you and begins digging through the bag she brought. She gets out some candies that she knew you loved, some popcorn, a bottle of wine, and a 6 pack of beers.

“Is this your peace offering?” You ask as you grab the bag of sweets, opening it and popping one in your mouth.

“I don’t know if I’d consider it a peace offering just yet but I wanted to at least talk, I figured I could start making amends with snacks.”

“Okay.”

“Look, I’m not really sorry for what I said, I said it for a reason and I stand by what I said.” She lets out a breath. “But I am sorry for how I said it though. I treated you like a child, that was unprofessional, you’re an adult and should be treated that way at work at least. Unfortunately, I’m your mom, so you’ll always be my little girl. And in this circumstance I was frustrated with you as a mom and as a coworker.”

“Why were you frustrated with me as a mom?” You understood the coworker, but the thought of you disappointing your Mom hurt a bit, you hadn’t realized you had upset her as a daughter.

“I don’t know if frustrated is the word I guess. It’s just weird seeing your daughter being defiled against the wall by another person especially at work when it’s with her coworker who she told you nothing was happening with.” Your blush comes back and you look down at your drink before taking a large swing, not wanting to think about your Mom walking in on you and Jessie.

“How many times do I have to tell you she wasn’t defiling me, it was just a kiss.”

“I don’t really care what she was doing to you, the less I know the better.” You Mom holds her hands up stopping you. “I am sorry I made a scene in your office about it. That was inappropriate on my end.”

“Thank you.” You take another sip. The two of you stood in silence around your kitchen table. This was going to be a long night.

It was nearly an hour later, you were drinking through your fourth beers and your Mom was working through her third heavy pour of wine. You could tell you were both feeling the effects of the drinks and it was likely your Mom would be spending the night. You felt your phone buzz in your lap and you looked down to see Jessie’s name again.

Jessie Fleming: sorry if I made it weird with my text from before, I promise only to be professional from now on.

You feel yourself smiling at the text, something about the idea that she thought about you again to text you made you feel warm and fuzzy. Unfortunately, with the alcohol in your system you did a worse job at hiding your emotions than you thought.

“Ohhhhh, look at you smiling at your phone, let me guess is a certain Canadian captain texting you?” Your mom teases from the other side of the couch. Her foot giving your leg a tap.

“Mom please.” While you tried to deflect her comment it was obvious by your smile that she was right about who had texted you and she knew she was right. You didn’t want to have to sit here with your tipsy mother and her comments about you and Jessie. Thankfully she stays quiet for a few minutes with the two of you not speaking.

“This is maybe the wrong way to go about this, but I’m trying really hard to be your Mom, not your coworker, so, tell me about her? Pretend I don’t already know her, pretend you’re telling me about just a crush from school or something.”

“Mom, we don't have to do this.”

“Oh come on, indulge me, I miss it. I remember when you were a little girl and you would come home telling me about the pretty girls in your class, and then in fourth grade someone told you that you couldn’t find other girls pretty.” You cringe at that memory. Some boy had overheard you saying how you thought another little girl in your class was beautiful and he had told you it was gross for boys to think boys were cute and for girls to find girls cute. Unfortunately that little shit’s comments stuck with you through your whole life, impacting you heavily as a child.

“And so then you only ever came home talking about boys, but I could tell it wasn’t quite the same as how you felt toward the pretty girls. And then when you were 17 you came to me to tell me about the pretty girl you had a crush on and I was so proud of you and excited that that stupid boy didn’t change you. And then since you’ve moved out for school I got to hear snippets over the phone about dates but it’s not the same. So indulge me. Tell me about her as you would any other girl.”

“But you do know her, Mom.” Still hesitant to have this conversation about Jessie, it was easy when your Mom didn’t know the other person.

“Does she have a job? Does she have aspirations? Where’s she from?” She ignored your comment and starts firing off questions.

You let out a small giggle as you take another drink, your Mom was always one to interrogate you about girls you talked about, it was just funny the way she was pretending she didn’t know Jessie.

You fell into conversation with your Mom for a bit. She’d ask questions, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that you were talking about Jessie. You answered, the small trace of beer in your system making you care slightly less, also knowing that your Mom had had her fair share of wine.

You told her about your conversations with Jessie, ones from all the hours you two spent secluded in the training rooms. You told her about your mutual aspiration for travel, how you’d talked about school, she taught you what she learned as an engineer in school, you talked about her family, her family dogs, all the tiny details you could remember about Jessie.

The more you talked about her, the more you watched your mothers face change. Originally looking a little uncomfortable when you talked about Jessie but now she was grinning back at you.

“You actually like her don’t you?”

“Obviously.” You huff throwing your arms up.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you just thought she was hot and you wanted to hookup with a professional athlete .”

“Mom!” You can feel your cheeks start to heat up.

You both fall into silence, your Mom finishing off her glass of wine and you staring at the ground thinking about everything you just said to your Mom.

“I forgot to say this earlier but I’m also sorry I accused you of lying to me.”

“It’s fine Mom, really don’t worry about it.”

Your Mom stands from the couch with a yawn. “Guest room made up by chance?” You nod at her. It wasn’t really a guest room, more of a den in your apartment that you had made an office with a bed in the corner.

Before she left to go to bed she moved over to you, placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Kiddo?” You cringe at the childhood nickname, looking up at her. “I’m not going to tell you to do anything with Jessie, but, you’re stubborn and I know you will. So just please, if you two decide to take your relationship anywhere, just be adults about it. Don’t let it affect work, don’t let it mess up her playing, don’t sneak around. If you want to be adults, act like it, tell the people who need to know.”

“We already talked, nothings going to happen.”

“I know you think that, but when the two of you see each other for almost 2 months straight, I think it’ll maybe be hard to keep it that way. I’d still advise you two to avoid each other as much as you can, keep it professional, that's the right choice in my eyes. But, unfortunately my more realist advice, wait until the Olympics are over when you’re no longer associated with the team and you’re back at school. You don’t want to be accused of the team’s downfall because Fleming is too busy staring off at her own trainer to make a decent pass.” With that she walks away from you, placing her glass in the sink and wandering to the den.

You knew most likely your Mom seemed to be okay with you and Jessie once you were no longer a trainer was just the wine talking and she’d go back to normal in the morning but for now you’d take it. You put your own bottle in the recycling and head into your bedroom. You consider texting back Jessie but decide against it as you plug your phone in and set an alarm for the next morning.

The next morning you wake up and make your way into the kitchen finding a note from your mom saying she left early, she loved you and she’d see you soon.

You grabbed a pan from the kitchen and opened the fridge to find eggs and started making yourself breakfast.

The sound of your phone ringing causes you to jump and let out a yelp, nearly dropping the egg you were cracking. Turning around you grab your phone, seeing Jessie’s name across the screen. You debate not answering, but maybe she needed you for work reasons, so you answer.

“Hello?”

“Should I be scared that your Mom tried to call me yesterday?”

You hadn’t expected that to be her first words. “She what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t answer, I was still trying to get home but she called me, no voicemail, no text, just a missed call. So I’m asking, is she still out for my head because of us?”

“There’s no us, but probably not? I don’t know. She showed up unexpectedly at my place last night to apologize for how she yelled at me.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I guess? I mean she’s still pretty upset, but she apologized for treating me unprofessionally. So maybe she wanted to apologize to you too, I’m not sure.”

“Oh.”

“She also asked about you.” There’s silence on the other end, you pull the phone back to check that the call hadn’t ended.

“Hello?” You stirred your eggs.

“Hi.” Jessie’s voice comes through clearly.

“Oh I thought you maybe hung up.”

“No.” There’s another pause. “What did she ask?”

“Everything I guess? She had maybe a few too many sips of wine.” You let out a small laugh. “She told me to talk to her about you as if she didn’t know you. It was something we used to do when I was a kid. I’d sit and tell her every detail about the boys or girls I liked.” You turn around to lean against the kitchen table.

“That’s sweet that she wanted to do that with you.”

“Yeah.” It’s now you leaving a long silence. “It could’ve been the wine talking but she was less mad I think, she even suggested we just wait until the Olympics are over to figure out what it is between us.”

You hear a sigh come through the phone. “I thought we agreed to be professional.”

“We did.”

“No offense but telling me that your Mom suggested we figure out something after the Olympics isn’t really professional at all, it’s only going to get in my head.” Her voice now sounding upset and frustrated.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry Jessie.” You’re not sure why you’re really apologizing, all you did was tell her what she wanted to know.

“It’s fine, I gotta go.” She rushes her sentence.

With that the line went dead and you stared back at your phone you could see your reflection in the black screen. The whole conversation ran through your head again. She had seemed excited that you talked to your Mom about her, but maybe you misunderstood. Jessie’s mood had taken such a sharp negative turn at the end, when you mentioned the possibility of post Olympics.

You open your texts, and start typing.

Hey, that was weird, sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just thought we were maybe still doing the friendly flirting given you brought up our kiss yesterday.

You erase the message. Locking your phone and turning back to see your eggs burnt, just starting to smoke.

“Shit shit shit.” You rushed over grabbing the pan and turning off the burner. Too frustrated first with Jessie’s confusing behavior and then with your ability to burn the easiest breakfast, you decide to grab a book and sit outside hoping you wouldn’t have to think about reality for a while.

The rest of your day was easy, you sat outside reading two whole books and also getting incredibly sunburnt in the process. The thought of sunscreen completely slipping your mind. You were able to not think about school, or your mom, or work, or Jessie, or the Canadian team at all.

The next three days played out the exact same, except with sunscreen this time. It was good, you genuinely got a break, from school, from work, and from life. It was great. Everything was going well, you had managed to not think about Jessie most of the day, until you went to bed and your phone notification popped up, reminding you of tomorrow’s responsibilities.

Calendar: Physio Team Meeting 8:00

Calendar: Meeting w/ J.Fleming 10:00

Calendar: Travel Paperwork Meeting 13:15

You had been excited to see her, that was until your weird shared phone call 3 days ago. It had been radio silence between the two of you since, you never texted her and she never reached out. Not that you expected her to, but it would’ve been nice to hear from her.

Your morning was quick, opting to just eat at the facilities instead of waking up early to make your own breakfast. You met your mom in the parking lot and the two of you walked into your first meeting together. It was general information for the upcoming schedule. The players were set to come back in 3 weeks for 5 days, the team would then travel to Paris to get settled before starting play later that week. It was going to be a busy 3 weeks before the team came back, everyone being given various tasks and responsibilities to oversee in the meantime. Yours as you had already been told was to keep Jessie in the loop with her teammates, as well as keeping up with her teammates themselves.

And that’s what you did at 10:00. You got onto your computer joining a call that was supposed to be you, Jessie, and Sarah, one of the other physio’s who was supposed to be the professionalism buffer. Unfortunately she had other things that took priority which left just you and Jessie.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Um Sarah isn’t coming, she has some other things to take care of that we’re more important than babysitting me in this meeting.” You feel your palms sweating, wiping them on your pants.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So we can get into it here-” you start to pull up a spreadsheet with information on each of the roster’s players. You didn’t feel like doing the small talk with her right now.

“Really quick, I wanted to apologize.” You stop messing with the document on your screen and look over to where the box with Jessie’s face was. “About that phone call, I made it weird, I think I just got a little, I don’t know, maybe overwhelmed, so I’m sorry.”

“Oh it’s fine.”

“It wasn’t fine, it wasn’t okay for me to be unprofessional when I texted you earlier and then get upset with you for doing the same.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” It was nice that she apologized but it still didn’t provide much of an explanation as to what happened.

The rest of your meeting goes as planned, you walk through every roster member, their current status, if they’re back playing at club yet, if so how many minutes they got in matches, all the details.

“How are you? You’re the only one we haven’t gone through.”

“I’m good.”

“I need more information than that Jessie, come on.”

“I’ve been sleeping better, obviously being in my own bed not a hotel helps, I’ve been a little stressed at Portland, things just aren’t connecting there so the playing has been stressful too. But I’ve been playing full 90’ still and the calf is treating me well.”

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear about your calf.” You can’t help but smile, thinking that your work and knowledge actually helped Jessie return to playing like herself. You type in the information she tells you into your document and then save the file and close it, bringing Jessie face to fullscreen on your computer.

“Alright, I guess we’re all done here then.”

“I actually had one more thing.”

“Oh! Sorry I should’ve check if you were done. Just let me open up my file again, hang on, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s not for the file.” There’s a pause, you just look at her on the screen. She’s looking down and you’re pretty sure playing with her hands, the way she does when she’s nervous.

“Can we please be friends? I’ve been wanting to text you about books I read, or cool travel locations I’ve seen. I wanted to text you that I saw a family of deer the other day and it reminded me of you telling me about the deer in your childhood backyard. But you told me we couldn’t even be friends, so I've been respecting that. But I want to be able to tell you those things, so if there’s any way we could be friends, it can still be professional, but friendly, I’d really like that.” Her sentence is rambling and you could tell she clearly had prepared to ask you but somewhere along the lines was just saying whatever came to her head.

What caught your attention was that she thought of the small 3 sentence story you had told her days ago about your childhood backyard. The backyard where you and your mom used to watch the deer run and graze. She remembered that tiny detail that you told her. It made your heart sing that she remembered.

“We can be friends.” You say with a smile knowing in the back of your head that there would be no way you’d be able to stay just friends with the beautiful girl who was now grinning back at you.

“Yay!” It was such a sweet response, her face lighting up. “Okay I’ll see you next week, same time?”

“Yeah Jessie, thanks, I’ll see you then.” She hangs up the call. You only have a minute in your office in silence before a series of texts come in.

Jessie Fleming: since we’re friends now

Jessie Fleming: look at the deer

Jessie Fleming: 2 Images

You look at the images, one was a photo of three deer, one being a baby, all standing in tall grass, the sun a golden yellow cascading on them. The next photo was a closer shot of the fawn. The pictures looked like someone from National Geographic took them, the detail, lighting, all of it.

You: did you take those photos?

Jessie Fleming: yes

You: wow

You: maybe I’ll have to bring you along on my future travels to be the photographer

Jessie Fleming: I definitely wouldn’t mind that

That was all it took, a simple conversation and two photos of deer to start the friendship between you and Jessie. A friendship that quickly snowballed into what was flirtatious, teasing, sweet, but overall borderline inappropriate for a working relationship. But you didn’t care, it was easy. Over those next three weeks the banter and friendship with Jessie grew and grew, the late nights texting that turned into late nights on FaceTime with the older girl, it felt harmless being that you were so far away from her.

The reality of what you two had developed only set in when it was three weeks later and you were standing in the physio room as players started filing in for the first training session before traveling to Paris.

Jessie walked in, looking around before her eyes caught yours. Her face lit up and you knew yours did too. You felt butterflies in your stomach. She gives you a smile and a quick flash of a smirk as she walks in the other direction going to say hello to the other staff first. She greets them all, you patiently wait, pretending not to be watching her as you restock bandaids in a drawer. But you were, out of the corner of your eye you couldn’t help but watch her move around the room, your heart rate picking up speed as she would move closer and closer with each person she said hello to.

“I saved the best for last.” You hear her soothing voice behind you.

You turn and she’s standing in front of you arms out as she had done to the other staff. You step toward her, wrapping your arms around her waist as she wraps around your shoulders. You wonder how she smells so good for someone who just got off an airplane and a bus ride, but somehow she does.

“I’ve missed you.” Her lips are against your ear and her voice is quiet to not allow anyone else to hear.

“I missed you too.” You whisper back to her. You pull away, catching your Mom’s eye over Jessie’s shoulder. She gives you a tight lipped smile and a small shake of her head.

“Do you need anything?” You offer Jessie, pointing to an open table where she could sit if she wanted her calf or anything else worked on. You don’t miss how at first she doesn’t verbally answer you, instead her eyes move from your face, down your entire body, then back up, her eyes taking an extra second on your lips before returning to meet your eye contact. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting her lip softly.

“Nope, I’m good.” She gives you a smile, you can see her cheeks have a slight red blush but you ignore that.

She turns and walks away, Janine catching her on the way out. You watch as the two appear to argue for a second before Janine slaps the back of Jessie’s head softly. Jessie returns the favor and smacks Janine’s arm as they keep moving down the hallway. Just before they hit the corner Janine turns back to look at you, you make eye contact for a second and she raises her eyebrows at you. Not knowing what that means or what to do you just turn back to putting bandaids, tape, and gauze back where they belong.

It was going to be a long 6 weeks with the team.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader

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gotham--fc · 5 months ago

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January Hymn - An Emily Sonnett Imagine

So this takes place during 2020 when Sonnett was on loan to Gothenburg and that was a very long time ago so if the timeline is not correct that's the way the cookie crumbles 🤷‍♀️(also my first time writing in second person if y'all like it I might do more second person stuff)

Also based off the song January Hymn by The Decemberists which I cannot recommend enough their entire discography is *chefs kiss*

About 2k words, pretty angsty, not a happy ending

You had long since accepted that this was as far as your career will take you.

You grew up in Sweden, up north, and moved to Gothenburg when you turned 18. You played soccer all your life and it was obvious to everyone who saw you that you were yards ahead of every other kid you played with. Your parents would drive you hours away from your hometown so you could play on a competitive team in a bigger city, where your talent was matched and developed. You ended up on an academy team and set your sights on going pro.

You are a professional player now. In your teenage years, you imagined yourself in World Cup finals, Champions League finals, you imagined your mantle filled with trophies and medals. You imagine you would leave Sweden. You liked to imagine yourself in Germany, or France, or England, maybe even America, and playing for top clubs around the world. However, none of those dreams really panned out for you.

You moved to Gothenburg and signed your first professional contract. You didn’t notice it at the time, but you were nearing your peak in your play, your development slowing. You love playing here, always have, but you didn’t imagine spending your whole career here. Over the years, you have watched players leave. Young players rise quickly through the ranks and get swooped up by flashy contracts at even flashier clubs. You look back at yourself at 18, 19, 20, and you know you were never as good as they are, never really had a chance at going somewhere else.

You’re not upset. You’re at peace with it all now. Sure, when you first realized that your dreams wouldn’t pan out, you were heartbroken, disappointed, frustrated, but you moved on. You’re happy with your life. You still get to play the sport you love for a living. You recognize now that you would’ve crashed and burned had you gone anywhere else. You love Sweden too much to leave, and the homesickness would’ve been too much. All in all, you’re happy where you are and you don’t regret a thing.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

Players move around all the time. It’s the nature of sports, players choosing to leave for a variety of reasons, teams deciding not to resign players for whatever reason, the team is always changing. You have been a staple in Gothenburg for years, but you’re one of a few. You’re used to having your friends move away and you’re used to only seeing them over Facetime after fighting through time differences. It’s part of your life.

You don’t think much of it when your coach announces a new player will be joining the team on loan from America. It’s not the first American, and it’s not the first loan, and really you’re just happy to see a new face. With Covid restrictions you really only see your teammates and the coaching staff, and you’re looking forward to not having the same conversations over and over. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to have an extra player to contribute when you’re pushing for a title.

Emily Sonnett, when you meet her looks like she’s had more of a year than you have. There’s a deep tiredness in her, one that she tries to hide behind her smile. You hear whispers in the locker room, about trades and the team in America she wasn’t playing for. You don’t care. You don’t care what she’s running from in America, you don’t care what her reasons for coming here are. It’s not really your business to care, anyway.

"Hi, Emily, right?" You approach her in the locker room. Her head is trained down at her cleats even though she’s tied them tight already. Her head snaps up when you speak.

“Most people just call me Sonnett. Or Sonny. Whatever you want.”

“Okay Sonnett,” You say, “You enjoying the city so far?”

“Uh, I haven’t really had a chance,” Emily, Sonnett, says, “I don’t really speak Swedish so, I just try not to get lost.”

Most of the team knows some English, some more fluent than others, but they do tend to speak Swedish to each other. You learned English when you were younger, in the hope that you might need it when you moved away. You’re grateful for it now, because Sonnett looks like she needs someone she can speak to.

“I’ve lived here for a long time, let me show you around. Gothenburg is a beautiful city, I would hate for you to not see the city the way I do.”

“Okay,” Sonnett says, “I’d like that.”

You take Sonnett around the city, showing her all your favourite spots, and you love sharing your city and your country with your teammates, but something feels different with Sonnett. She’s hilarious, and you laugh the whole day, and every time you laugh her eyes light up. You asked her, earlier in the day, why she came to Gothenburg, and she gave you a vague answer about COVID and not being able to play in the States over the summer and just wanting to get some games under her belt before the Olympics next year. You understand, in a way, because you’ve never not had soccer, never not been able to play, and you can’t imagine having it taken away without your control.

You have been fairly lucky with injuries, never having anything serious enough to take you out for a long time. You have watched your teammates and friends sidelined for months with injuries, and you feel extremely grateful that you’ve never had to deal with that. You know that Sonnett isn’t unable to play in the States because of injuries, but because of the pandemic that has effected you as well. No one really knows what the pandemic will bring, how the world will be impacted by it, and you’re just happy you get play, that the team has found a way to play safely.

“I know Sweden is not as warm as Florida,” You say when you noticed Sonnett shiver.

“Oh, I wasn’t in Florida, I was in Georgia with my family,” Sonnett says, “I don’t have a place in Florida and I’m not about to couch surf off my friends, so I just stayed with my family.”

“I did not realize your American teams don’t provide housing.”

“They did, they do,” Sonnett says, “There’s no point in getting me a place. They’re not playing in Florida this year, and they won’t keep me next year. I told them I don’t want to stay next year.”

You’re not really sure what to say. The conversations today have been lighthearted, and you’re not sure how to handle the change. You’ve had teammates request transfers before, but the system here is so different than in the States. Here, if you don’t want to stay with a team, you just don’t sign another contract, but it’s different over there.

“I was traded,” Sonnett says when you stay quiet, “From Portland. I’d been there for so long and I really thought they’d keep me, but then they traded me. And I don’t want to play for Orlando. I… I want to go back to Portland, I want my old life back. All my friends were there and I was really happy. It felt shitty that they could just get rid of me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, because what else is there to say?

“I’m not playing in Florida, for the Pride, and I made that clear. I don’t even want to go back to Portland, because it’s obvious I don’t mean anything to them, and all my friends are gone too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“D’you know any good pet shops?” Sonnett says suddenly, “I wanna get my dog Bagel so many Swedish dog toys before I go back.”

Your head reels from the abrupt change in conversation. You get the sense that Sonnett is not someone who likes to have serious conversations, so you don’t push. You don’t have any pets, so you don’t know where the nearest pet shop is, but you use google maps and you laugh as Sonnett makes jokes about each toy and the way she butchers the pronunciations of names.

It feels like the start of something, something you can’t put a name on. You didn’t know it then, but the start sometimes can also be the end.

***

You knew Sonnett’s loan would end. That’s how loans work, there’s also an end date to them. While you knew that, and knew your time was limited, her departure crept up on you. First, you were ecstatic, thrilled, that you won the league. It’s what the team has been working towards, and you get to see all your hard work paid off. Through the celebrations and the champagne, you find Sonnett alone.

“I thought you were the life of the party,” You say, “Or are your stories lies?”

“No, I am usually pretty rowdy,” Sonnett says, “They don’t call me Saucy for nothing.” You chuckle. “I was just thinking how much I’ll miss this.”

You head cocks to the side. Miss this? It’s hits you, the season is over, and Sonnett’s loan is over, and she’ll be going back to the States.

“I’m happy to go home, see my family and friends again, but I’ve really enjoyed it here.”

“Yeah,” You say quietly, feeling choked up suddenly.

The two of you look at each other and you can see the emotion in Sonnett’s eyes, no doubt mirrored in yours. There’s something you want to say, caught on the tip of your tongue, and you’re not even sure yourself what it is, but before you can, someone bumps into you and then you and Sonnett are dragged back into the celebrations.

Sonnett leaves a week later.

You offer to drive her to the airport. It’s an excuse to see her one last time before she leaves and she doesn’t fight you on it. You pick her up from her apartment and she slides into the passengers seat of your car. She looks tired, and you think a little sad, but she hides her emotions so well that you can’t tell if you’re just projecting.

The drive is quiet, the two of you attempting to make conversation, but there’s nothing to say. She’s leaving, and you’re staying, and neither of those facts will change. Her life is in the States, and yours is here, and maybe in another life you would’ve been more talented and more skilled and maybe you would’ve found yourself in the States, on the same team as Sonnett.

You park in the drop off zone and you get out of the car while Sonnett grabs her bags from the back. You take a moment to just look at her, and then you pull her into a hug.

“I’m glad you came here,” You say, “Even if it was short. I… I wish…” There’s so much you want to say. You pull back to look Sonnett in the eyes. As soon as you lock eyes, all the words leave you. What can you say?

She stands there, looking at you, and she’s waiting, she’s waiting for you to say it, and you’re waiting for her to say it, because how can you say anything right before she leaves you? How can she say anything right before she leaves you?

“Goodbye Emily Sonnett,” You say, “Don’t forget about me when you win a gold medal, okay?”

“Never,” She says, “Don’t forget me when you win the Champions League.”

And with that, she’s gone.

You drive back alone.

As you drive, even though you’ve lived in Sweden your whole life, it feels colder than it has ever been.

You go about your life as normal, except with an aching hole in your chest. You go over the drive and the goodbye over and over, wondering. What would you have said? What could you have said that might’ve made her stay? If you said something, if she said something, would it have changed anything?

No, you think, it wouldn’t have, because your lives are thousands of miles apart and nothing will ever change that.

You watch her at the Olympics that summer and you watch her lose in the semis and you watch Sonnett on the field, with her teammates, after the loss, and then in the bronze medal game, when they win. You wish you were there, you wish you could call her, congratulate her. You wonder if she watched your Champions League games. You wonder if she saw you lose and wished she could call you. You wonder if she thinks about you at all.

Maybe in another life, you tell yourself, maybe if things were different. Maybe you should just let it all go, maybe when you stop waiting, she’ll come back to you.

#emily sonnett #emily sonnett x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #emily sonnett imagine #uswnt #woso imagine #woso

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brandogenius · 10 months ago

Note

hiiiii! could you write julien x reader where basically is ex to lovers? 😭 like maybe reader is also on the public eye and the fans reactions to it? it could be a headcanon or a blurb, whatever it’s better for you!

thank u !!! pls !!!

this is such a cute request i have so many ideas for this one!

‼️RPF‼️

(NOT PROOFRED)

MINI FIC? - julien x reader - ex to lovers.

Request: “could you write julien x reader where basically is ex to lovers? 😭 like maybe reader is also on the public eye and the fans reactions to it?”

Word count: 1,749

(please let me know if you would like a part two! this was quite fun to write! )

everyone knew of you and juliens past. five years ago in 2018 the two of you were a pair. boygenius was starting to blow up and you were by juliens side ever since. julien wasn’t shy in letting everyone know that you were her girlfriend. dedicating some songs to you and posting photo dumps that include you in some of her instagram posts.

you weren’t as known as much as julien in the music scene. a small indie and pop writer. you had accumulated your own small handful of fans. majority of them boygenius fans, there in support to hype up their favourite musicians girlfriend.

you were seen on tour with the boys. promoting the release of their debut ep ‘boygenius’ you were just as excited as the trio. you couldn’t have been more prouder of your girlfriend.

until something changed. 2020 had come around and fans had noticed the lack in content with the both of you. you stopped appearing in juliens photo dumps. you unfollowed julien on twitter. julien took your tag off her posts. it was a devastating time for the fans. it didn’t take many people long to figure out what this all meant.

of course you have a handful of fans who respected what was going on. choosing to mind their own business and support both of you separately. however, with every bunch of food and respectful fans, you had the ones who didn’t understand what boundaries meant. screaming in your comments section or directly going as far as @ julien on twitter asking what happened between the two of you.

both of you have been keeping quiet about it until an interview was published, julien was promoting the upcoming release for her album when the interviewer dropped a question over the computer screen.

“i’m sure the fans are dying to know what happened between you and your girlfriend- or should i say ex at this point?” julien sat in front of the computer, an eyebrow raised as she watched the interviewer stare back at the musician. julien never in the slightest could imagine what audacity the interviewer had in that moment to ask that.

“well you see-“ julien fiddled with her headphones, readjusting them onto her head. she could see the interviewer sat there notebook in hand with pen firmly placed on the paper, ready to write down what she had to say.

“- there’s nothing i want to say on this matter. you’re interviewing me for my album right? why don’t we ask questions in relation to music, rather than my personal and private business”

the interviewer, taken a back quickly spluttered as quiet apology and composted themselves. going back to pre selected questions to ask in relation to music.

the question left julien in a sour mood for the rest of the day. the interview was quickly published. julien didn’t really want to check it out. having some small hope that the interviewer would be kind enough to edit it and take out that part but unfortunately not.

she knew it would stir up another wave of questions and panic amongst both fandoms. even if you were staying on the low side for now, keeping out of the public eye, she couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty - feeling a bit bad for dragging you back into this mess of chaos that occurred just only weeks ago.

you ok the other hand were a bit more composed. less hot headed julien. you simply ignored everything to do with the shorter musician. what happened- simple happened. it’s in the past you can’t change it anymore. you just need to go ahead and think of the future.

you continued to post on social media, posting tiktoks and tweeting. working on promoting your newest song virtually on home. most of the fans had moved on. coming to terms with the fact the two of you will most likely never interact again.

2020-2023 passes as quickly. both of you are doing your own thing. you are topping the charts with your album and singles. fans have definitely moved on but always remember. new fans are introduced to you and learn the basics. your past with boygenius member julien baker. the time you won your first award. your first world tour.

it’s the first few months of 2023. february is welcomed with longer days and a spree of award shows. your schedule was booked and busy for this month. you had a lot of interviews to attend in relation to your record you dropped in January. it was one of your proudest works to date. working hard on the album since your last one released in 2021. this was filled with songs you’ve written over the years that didn’t make it. lyric sheets that were shoved into your folder, uncovered and refurbished with better lyrics, tweaked and changed to suit your aesthetic.

one of your tracks - track 7 was one that got the most attention. 3M on youtube, billboard no1 charts. it was a bit odd since it wasn’t even your title track. fans heard it and went wild. theorising over the poetic lyrics.

it was an old song. one you wrote about julien. one about heartbreak and the feeling of yearning. you didn’t name anyone but somehow fans chose to believe it was about the boygenius member and they were right.

today was the billboard music awards. all different kinds of celebrities made their way through the red carpet. photographers and paparazzi shouting and wanting to get their direction

the boys came first. julien walking alongside lucy and phoebe. the boys stood in front of the backdrop, posing for photos. the blinding white light filling juliens vision. the sound of various amount of clicks were just enough to distract her from her own rambling thoughts for a quick moment. you were going to preform the newest song at the awards tonight. it would’ve been the first time the two of you seen each other since 2020.

a small nudge to the side by lucy had julien shaken out of her thoughts. the trio walking off to another background for another round of photoshoots.

not so long after. fans tuned into watching the livestream. you made your way onto the red carpet. fans instantly made a realisation. without knowing, you and julien were matching outfits. julien with a black and white suit. you walked into the photo zone with a black and white dress.

posing for the photos seemed weird. fans taking to twitter to discuss and theorise what the connection was. was it a coincidence? was it on purpose? you finish up with the interviews and photo zone and quickly head into the venue.

you took your seat at the table, you seemed to be the only one there so far so you didn’t seem phased. glancing up you raise your eyebrows in surprise seeing a familiar head oh platinum hair

just your luck that the all too familiar trio is sitting at the same table as you. you smiled as phoebe took a seat beside you. lucy and julien across from you.

fans would be in the building too. mainly up in the higher sections. you wouldn’t be surprised if you see all the fan pages posting about this later on. you knew you had to act professional and calm.

you jumped slightly as a hand tapped your arm. phone stared at you with a mix of concern and amusement. “huh?” “i asked how have you been?”

“oh- pretty good you know” you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lip. “making music and stuff” you took out your phone to distract yourself from the burning gaze of juliens eyes on you. like a second nature you can just tell. you chose to ignore it for now.

the billboards ran pretty smoothly. you won two awards and quickly went backstage to get ready for your performance. you felt a hand wrap around your wrist as you turned back.

“can we talk?” you turned around to stare at the smaller girl in front of you. julien stood there looking at you with a frown on her face. you glanced at the stage with a small sigh “you know i have to go on stage soon- can it wait?” you really didn’t want to talk to her- not when you’re about to preform a song.. essentially about her.

“after? please” juliens words were quiet. hesitent almost. you sighed to yourself, taking interest in the wall behind julien as you nodded. “fine - yeah. after” julien let go off your hand as she nodded. standing back as she ducked her head to walk away.

preforming for the first time in a while was a bit weird. you were so used to preforming on a web camera or pre recorded for saturday night shows, preforming to a crowd of a good couple thousand people was a bit nerve racking.

your eyes found juliens as you searched the crowd. locking eye contact you didn’t dare break it neither did julien. watching the shorter musician give a thumbs up and a positive smile made you feel calm. it made you feel more better you were able to preform the song without any worries.

finishing the song you took a deep breath and quickly thanked everyone before walking off the stage. you needed a minute to yourself to calm down before returning to the table. you sat in the backstage area, clutching a bottle of water in your shaky hands as you scrolled through social media.

“that was pretty epic” you looked up at the familiar voice. a small smile spreading across your face as you looked up. julien sat down across from you, fiddling with her rings anxiously. “you think so?” you chuckled.

“it was awesome! it’s your new song right? congrats on number one” julien leaned back in the chair. in the moment it felt right. it felt like how it used to. like nothing has changed since then.

“what did you want to talk about?” you tilted your head, being the first to break the conversation to the one both were too anxious to start.

fans broke twitter that very night. during the interval, videos spread across twitter like wildfire. you and julien walking back out onto the floor, hand in hand with smiles across your faces.

new theories started to arise. what happened? is that why julien left the table? what did you talk about?

#pom writes #julien baker au #julien baker x reader #julien baker one shot #julien baker fluff #julien baker x singer!reader #julien baker fanfic #julien baker x fem!reader #boygenius au #boygenius fanfic #boygenius one shot #boygenius x reader

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lemoncrushh · 6 months ago

Text

Seven Six Five - Part Three

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part Three Word Count: 3.5k+

STORY PAGE

27 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

Bronwyn had tossed and turned all night. After returning home from her meeting with Harry, she’d started feeling a pang in her gut. She’d worried that perhaps she had been a little hard on him, and maybe even downright cruel. She’d thought about the look in his eyes when he’d asked her about that night, and how he’d sincerely sounded clueless. Perhaps she’d had it all wrong, or maybe he’d just been a different person then, seven years ago. People do grow, in fact. And maybe...just maybe, he’d been looking for a way to apologise.

When she’d sat at her computer with a glass of wine, hoping to distract her mind and get some work done, she’d soon found the attempt futile. Instead, she’d opened the website where her article was published. She reread it, looking at the photos she’d taken and scanning through the comments. They were all positive, many true, die-hard fans giving their thanks and input. A few were also from newer fans, people who’d only recently discovered him and kicked themselves for not listening to him sooner.

Nobody called him fake. Nobody said he was a phony. It was all just the opposite. Everyone honestly adored him, and called him things like “genuine”, “a class act” and “the kind of man I hope my son turns out to be.”

Setting her laptop aside, Bronwyn walked to her tiny kitchen table where she’d left the tote bag Harry had given her. Slipping her hand inside, she pulled out the vinyl record and unwrapped the cellophane. Surprised to find it was a gatefold, she examined the fish-eye photos on the cover and the inside. When she pulled the record out of the sleeve, something else fell out and onto the floor. Picking it up, Bronwyn saw that it was a folded poster which she quickly opened, letting out a cackle.

“Oh my God, you’ve got to be joking!” she exclaimed, looking at the photos on either side.

Shaking her head, she placed the record on her turntable and dropped the needle. She recognised the intro to the first song, having listened to it a handful of times that weekend on Spotify. By the middle of the song, she found herself singing along to the lyrics. Then sitting down on the sofa, she inspected the poster again, the side where Harry was laid out on the floor...naked.

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered to herself.

She realised nothing was really showing. It was a tasteful pose, and his hand and thigh were covering his unmentionables. It was art, and she could respect that. But she didn’t like the way it made her feel.

Or maybe she did.

Folding the poster back up, Bronwyn slipped it back into the album sleeve and grabbed her glass of wine.

Perhaps it had been the chardonnay, or maybe the half a dozen listens to Harry’s album that had kept her awake most of the night. But nevertheless, Bronwyn was determined to do some actual work when she finally got out of bed and brushed her teeth. No thinking of Harry Styles today, nor her history with him. No listening to his music. His album was tucked away in her vinyl collection, along with that ridiculously enticing poster…

It was mid-afternoon when Bronwyn finally showered. After getting loads of work done - thanks to the promise she’d kept to herself - including some housework such as cleaning her bathroom, dusting and watering her plants, she took a nice, long, steaming shower. Slipping into a striped tee and a pair of denim overalls, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Deciding it was time for tea, she was just about to walk to the kitchen when she heard the buzzer for her building. She wasn’t expecting company, nor a package, so she was curious who rang.

“‘Ello?” she called into the intercom.

“Hi Bronwyn. It’s Harry.”

Shocked, she blurted the first word that came to mind. “Who?”

“Forgot me again already,” he laughed. “It’s Harry Styles.”

Clearing her throat, Bronwyn tried to get her bearings. “What can I do for you, Harry?”

“Well, I’d like to come in, if I may.”

“Um…” she pondered for a moment, looking around the room. It wasn’t as though he was going to walk into a mess and think her a slob or anything. She’d just cleaned, and her flat was tidy as a pin. “Okay.”

Bronwyn hesitantly pressed the button to buzz Harry into the building. Opening the door, she stepped out into the hallway, just in time to see him enter and look up at her from the bottom of the stairs. This time, he wasn’t trying to be inconspicuous in all black. Instead, he’d gone a similar route to his Tiny Desk performance, choosing a striped sweater vest, pinstripe shirt and brown trousers. He was again carrying a tote bag.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey...how did you...find out where I live?” Bronwyn asked.

“Same way I got your number.”

“Oh. Well, um...what are you doing here?”

“Well, after we parted ways yesterday, I got the feeling that something was wrong. I just couldn’t shake it, wondering what I’d done,” Harry explained, taking the stairs to meet her. “Then it dawned on me.”

Stopping at the second to top step, Harry was nearly eye level with Bronwyn. She swallowed hard as she got a hefty whiff of his cologne.

“What’s that?” she mumbled.

“One of the things I remembered most about you, when we’d originally met all those years ago...was that you loved vinyl. It was something we had in common in fact, as I was just starting to grow my own collection. So my initial thought had been to bring you a vinyl copy of my album. But I see now that that was very presumptuous of me, if not a little pretentious. Of course you wouldn’t be interested in that. You like the old stuff, the classics.”

Her knitted eyebrows relaxing, Bronwyn’s expression softened as Harry handed her the tote bag.

“Brought these for you. Thought you might like them.”

Taking the bag, Bronwyn stared incredulously at Harry before peeking inside.

“Why did you-?”

“I offended you. Clearly,” said Harry, holding up his hand. “And I apologise. It’s my peace offering.”

If you only knew…

“Um…” Bronwyn faltered again, “I don’t suppose you’d like to come in for a cuppa.”

“Can’t stay long,” replied Harry, his lips slowly stretching into a smile. “But...that would be nice.”

With a short nod, Bronwyn turned for the doorway of her flat, Harry following. Then shutting the door behind him, she watched as his eyes perused her tiny studio apartment. There was a half wall separating her bed, a beaded curtain used for the rest of the wall. A small desk sat in the corner beside the window which was lined with plants. Beside the sofa stood her turntable, her record collection underneath. Harry took a moment to inspect it all, taking it all in whilst Bronwyn headed for the kitchen to start the kettle.

“This is really lovely, Bronwyn.”

The sound of her name from his lips made her insides jump. She looked up from the counter to see Harry walk over to the large window and gently touch the leaves of a plant.

“Thanks.”

His long legs strode across the room where he stopped and pointed to the beaded curtain and grinned.

“That is very you,” he said.

“It is?” she asked, feeling herself blush.

Harry nodded. “I reckon if I had to imagine your place, I’d picture it exactly like this.”

“Um...I’m not sure how to take that.”

His audibly pleasing laugh echoed as he walked over to the turntable.

“Do you mind?” he gestured.

“No, sure, go ahead.”

Harry grabbed the tote bag from the counter where Bronwyn had left it and pulled out the records. Choosing the Donny Hathaway Live album, he placed it gently on the turntable. As the music started, the familiar light crackling that only came from listening to vinyl, Harry turned for the kitchen, an easy smile on his face.

“I like live albums, don’t you?” he inquired.

“Sometimes.”

“It’s great because you feel like you’re there. Even when it was recorded forty years ago.”

“Hmm, yes,” Bronwyn nodded. “Except when it’s not really a hundred percent live.”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Like I heard somewhere that KISS Alive! wasn’t actually all live. The producer or engineer, or maybe Gene Simmons decided some of it wasn’t clear enough, so they overdubbed it with studio clips. I don’t think some of the audience sounds were even real.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Harry pouted as he leant against the counter.

“Yeah. Still a good album though.”

“Have you listened to this one before?” he asked, pointing to the record player.

Bronwyn shook her head. “I haven’t. I like Donny Hathaway, but haven’t listened to very much of his stuff.”

“You’ll like this,” Harry declared with a nod.

Though the first song wasn’t even complete yet, Bronwyn somehow knew he was right. Not because she already liked it so far, but because she knew Harry had good taste. She remembered the scattered conversations about music they’d had that night…

The kettle whistled then, bringing her out of her reverie, and Bronwyn busied herself with preparing the tea.

“Um, how do you take it?” she called, seeing as Harry had made his way back to the turntable and was browsing through her record collection.

“Just lemon if you have it,” replied Harry, his head down as he studied an old jazz album.

Moments later, Bronwyn announced that the tea was ready and set Harry’s cup on the counter.

“Thanks,” he said. Inspecting a Linda Ronstadt record, he held it up. “This is one I need for my collection.”

“Yes you do,” Bronwyn agreed, carrying her cup and leaning against the edge of the counter. “It’s one of my absolute favourites.”

“I just fancy her in those roller skates and socks.”

Bronwyn couldn’t help but laugh. “Then you’ll also need the one where she’s on the beach and her nipples are showing.”

Turning his head, Harry gave a smirk. “Oh, I do have that one.”

“Figures.”

“Oh, here’s a gem!” Harry exclaimed, holding up a Bill Evans record. “I have this, too.”

Biting her lip, Bronwyn felt the heat rise on her neck as though Harry had just discovered a special secret.

“That’s my writing album. I play it a lot when I need inspiration. Or when I’m reading.”

“Wonderful,” Harry commented softly before returning it to the pile.

Last, he picked up a sleeve of Stevie Nicks’ album The Other Side of the Mirror.

“Another brilliant choice,” he said, noticing the item was light. “Where’s the record?”

Bronwyn frowned. “It got damaged in the move to New York. I have all of hers except that one. I’ve been meaning to replace it, but never did.”

“A shame,” Harry muttered. Then he rose from his spot on the floor. “Sorry, I guess I should drink that tea now.”

“It might be cold, do you want-”

Harry shook his head after taking a sip. “It’s fine.” Then he smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, unable to tear her eyes from his face. “Um...I don’t reckon I’ve ever had anyone in here who dove straight for my vinyls.”

The dimples dipping deeper in his cheeks, Harry looked down at his cup. “We have quite a lot in common.”

“Hmm…” Bronwyn nodded.

“Of course, I knew that when I met you.”

Grinning slightly, Bronwyn set her cup on the counter. She’d been wanting to say something, the feeling that she’d had the night before whilst listening to his album. Now with him stood in her flat, she knew she needed to say it face to face.

“Harry, I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to you yesterday.”

“Wha’?”

“When you gave me your record...I thought you were just being an arsehole celebrity plugging his work.”

“I understand, what’s why I-”

Bronwyn held up her hand. “I read the comments on my article, and so many people are fond of you, some even saying that they’ve met you and you’re the nicest person. I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions.”

“I can see how you would think-”

“Harry, just accept my apology so we can let it lie.”

Pursing his lips, Harry nodded. “Apology accepted.”

“Good.” Bronwyn brought her teacup to her lips and took a slow sip as she watched Harry step around the counter to meet her.

“Now tha’ that’s done,” he said, his voice suddenly deeper, “can we address the elephant in the room?”

Lowering her cup, Bronwyn widened her eyes. “What elephant?”

“What’s still left unsaid between us…” Harry gestured.

Bronwyn shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because...it was seven years ago. Let’s just forget it.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” said Harry, his face expressionless.

Bronwyn rolled her eyes and turned for the stove, but Harry grabbed her arm.

“Why’d you leave?” he asked softly. “I thought you wanted...me.”

Taking a deep breath, Bronwyn blinked slowly. “I thought I did, too. I mean...I did.”

“I had a great time, didn’t you?”

“Yes. You still remember?”

“Of course,” Harry grinned, stepping around to stand in front of her. “I remember everythin’. Your musical knowledge that could rival anyone else’s I knew, the way you could hold your own and drink everybody under the table, your infectious laugh…”

Her lips spreading, Bronwyn let out a hearty chuckle.

“That’s the one,” Harry remarked. “And most of all I remember the kiss.”

“You do?”

For years that kiss had continued to haunt her dreams. It had been the most amazing, perfect kiss. Right before he’d asked her to leave with him. Before…

“Hold that thought!” Harry held up a finger before rushing into the living room.

She watched him take the record off the turntable and place it on side B, letting the needle drop. She hadn’t even noticed the music had stopped, she had been so caught off guard by Harry’s kiss comment. With a satisfied grin, he made his way back to the kitchen and stood before her again, just where he’d been.

“Where were we?” he beamed.

“Um...I dunno…” Bronwyn said, running a hand through her curls. She noticed his cologne was making her a bit dizzy. “You were saying how you remember…”

“Ah, right, the kiss.”

“You smell really nice.” It was involuntary. Word vomit. Still, Harry chuckled, making her feel warm all over.

“Thank you.”

Harry leant in, his lips nearly brushing against her skin. She could feel his breath on her. Awkwardly, she touched his wrists as he rested his hands on either side of her on the counter. He searched for her gaze as she looked down, focusing on how his hips were pressed against hers. She was certainly trapped, just as she’d been that night in the alcove. The rush of adrenaline combined with the memory, as well as his intoxicating aroma, made her light-headed. Bronwyn slid her hands up his arms, and just as she lifted her head, his lips found hers. They kissed soft and short kisses at first, until he pulled her closer and darted his tongue inside. Grabbing a fist full of his sweater, she let out a tiny whimper before releasing herself from the kiss and pushing her palms against his chest.

“No. I mean...sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Harry breathed.

“I just...I can’t.”

“Why not? Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No. It’s not that. I just...can’t be that woman.”

“What woman?” Harry inquired, furrowing his brows.

“The one who wakes up alone in your hotel bed after a shag and you’re nowhere to be found because you couldn’t handle saying goodbye.”

“We’re in your flat, love,” Harry giggled.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

With a sigh, Bronwyn pushed against him again, trying to wriggle herself free from his body. Stepping back, Harry allowed her space as he stared at her incredulously.

“This...it can’t happen, Harry,” declared Bronwyn. “I realised some things that night...that I just can’t get over.”

“What things? What happened?” Harry reached for her, but she waved him away.

“Please. I really would rather not talk about it. It would just...it’s too painful.”

Harry tilted his head. “But love, if we don’t talk about it, how can I-”

“I think you should go.”

“Bronwyn-”

She lowered his head, trying her best not to cry. “Please.”

With a heavy sigh, Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. “Alright.”

Bronwyn stood frozen in the kitchen as Harry made his way toward the door. Donny Hathaway continued to serenade, punctuating the scene when Harry stopped and turned around.

“The number I called you from...that’s my personal cell,” he offered. “If...you decide you wanna talk, you can call me. Or text me. I’ll be all ears.”

Bronwyn nodded, looking down at her hands. Harry opened the door and held it open as he looked at her again.

“I really hope you do, Bronwyn. I mean...no pressure, but…” Harry paused with another sigh, “I’d really like to finish that kiss.”

With that, Harry stepped out and shut the door behind him, leaving Bronwyn in the kitchen with the first of many tears to wet her cheeks.

20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK

Her entire body was on fire. She didn’t remember ever being this turned on. Not that she had a lot of experience, but...well she’d had enough. But this...this was different.

His lips had moved from hers to her neck, nibbling seductively as she tried to keep her balance against the wall of the alcove. His right hand that had been at her waist had made its way to her bum where it cupped her and urged her to lift her thigh.

“Harry…” she breathed.

His wet mouth traveled to her ear then where he whispered her name.

“Leave with me,” he requested.

“What?”

“Come with me to my hotel. Stay with me tonight.”

With a quiet yes and moan of agreement, Bronwyn turned her head to meet his lips once again.

“Let me um…” she stammered, “I need to get my bag and camera. Meet me...by the lifts? Fifteen minutes?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded as he stood straight, adjusting himself. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Tugging on her dress, Bronwyn gave him a sexy smile before a quick peck on the lips.

“See you soon,” she murmured, heading down the hall.

Finding her camera quickly, she took a trip to the loo to freshen her makeup and get her bearings. Looking in the mirror, she saw a right mess staring back at her.

“Oh Bronwyn, look at you,” she tsked. “You already looked absolutely fucked.”

Applying just a touch of cosmetics, she finger-combed her hair the best she could, trying to tame the frizzies and lift the flat parts. Then after a tiny spritz of perfume, she stood back and examined herself.

She’d never been terribly fond of her body. In fact, she’d always thought herself fat. But tonight...she felt pretty, beautiful even. Harry made her feel that way. He’d even whispered how he found her sexy whilst they’d made out in the alcove. And if someone like him wanted to sleep with her...well, she couldn’t be all bad.

Dropping her lipstick in her bag, Bronwyn slung it over her shoulder and pushed the bathroom door open. Halfway down the hall, towards the lifts, she heard voices. Slowing her steps, she came to a large door that was ajar. Peeking inside, she saw a circle of boys, and quickly recognised them as Harry and his bandmates. Harry seemed to have his back to her, and she couldn’t make out their words. That is, until she heard her name.

28 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

12:13 AM. Bronwyn kept clicking the button on her phone to check the time. She’d been doing that for the last forty-five minutes. Perhaps it was too late to call. He might be asleep.

But maybe not.

She didn’t like the feeling in her stomach. It turned and flipped like one of those children’s toys with the water inside. After Harry’d left, she’d let herself cry on her bed until she’d fallen asleep. When she’d risen, she’d barely eaten a few crackers and cheese before settling on a glass of wine and some tunes.

Eyeing the tote bag on the counter, Bronwyn had pulled out the other vinyl Harry had brought her. It was Wings - Back To The Egg. While she was a fan of Paul McCartney and had several of his albums, this was one of a few she’d been missing. The notion that Harry would have known that was ludicrous, but it warmed her heart just the same.

After listening to the entire album, and then the Donny Hathaway one again, Bronwyn had resolved that she might have been an idiot. Maybe Harry wasn’t a phony. Maybe she didn’t hate him anymore. And maybe...just maybe...she actually kind of liked him.

Pressing the button one last time, she unlocked her phone, finding Harry’s number easily. Her head and heart pounded as she heard it ring.

“Hi.”

Bronwyn thought she might throw up as she swallowed hard. “Hi.”

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“I didn’t either.”

Eeeek! What do you think happened??

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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bohemianboynton · 2 months ago

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(originally from my other blog, maneskingroupie)

Your Biggest Fan (Thomas Raggi x f!reader)

A/N: I wrote this over the course of two days lol

Warnings: none except the mention of the ESC 2021 drug scandal

Word count: 956

It all started in 2015. You were a teenage exchange student living in Rome, and you had a few classmates who were in a band. They were just beginning their careers, but you could tell that they were going to be better as time passed.

Somehow, though, you managed to befriend them: Victoria, the bassist; Damiano, the lead singer; Thomas, the guitarist; and Ethan, the drummer. Together, they were known as Måneskin, a nod to Victoria’s half Danish heritage. You were among their first fans, and you were around their age. Even when it was time to return home, you kept in touch with them on social media through Instagram and WhatsApp. You learned Roman phrases with them over text while at the airport in your home country and you still supported them, albeit from a distance.

You found them all to be rather cute, but Thomas in particular caught your eye. With his awkward teenage boy appearance, his braces and the long blonde hair covering his face, your teenage brain found him irresistible. Almost every day, when there was time between both of your schoolwork and when the time difference would allow it, you would talk with Thomas through texting. Reading his texts made you giggle and blush, like every teenage girl getting a reply from their crush. Except that he was now becoming an Italian celebrity, thanks to the band’s appearance on the Italian version of X Factor.

A few years passed, you and your international musician friends all graduated school, and now you were all grown up and ready to head out into the world. Flash forward to 2020, you’re trying to apply for an Italian visa so you could finally get together with your friends after talking about it for what seemed like ages now. Then covid hit, and it hit Italy hard. So, your plans were halted. But you kept up with them through texts and social media, like you had before. No big deal.

However, something changed drastically in your world as things were getting back to normal. Thomas had posted a photo of himself with a woman, who you figured out was his girlfriend. This wasn’t really a shock, considering the other band members had relationships of their own as well. But seeing him with someone after talking to him all these years stung a little. But you moved on after seeing him so happy with her.

By the time your visa was approved, it was time for Festival di Sanremo in Italy, and your beloved band and friends were competing in the televised festival. The night before the final day of Sanremo, you met up with your friends and caught up in person at a small restaurant. Chatting and light drinking ensued, and you kept staring at Thomas to the point where he kept asking you what was wrong. Each time that he caught you looking, you turned away and mumbled that you were just staring off into space and not looking at him. But the truth was that you had fallen head over heels with him once again after seeing his face in person. He was definitely no longer the awkward boy you had a little crush on all those years ago, and he had grown into a rather attractive young man.

The next day, you were glued to the tv set in your hotel room, at the edge of your seat. The winners were being announced, and you waited with baited breath while watching your friends embrace each other and be embraced by their former X Factor judge, a rapper known as Fedez.

Måneskin won. They won Sanremo. They would go on to Eurovision now.

You were ecstatic for your contest winning friends, and now you could watch them compete in the biggest international musical competition in the world. It seemed so crazy that these guys were once the kids you saw in school talent shows, performing mostly cover songs. Now they had a new album out, a rage filled hard rock album that you loved the absolute hell out of. And now they had won Sanremo.

The 2021 Eurovision Song Contest came closer and closer, and with each day, you could feel the excitement between them, you, and what seemed like every person on Earth, especially after they won the contest. The excitement didn’t stop at the victory and the growing international fanbase however, a drug scandal emerged. Damiano had to pick up a broken glass that Thomas had dropped and it appeared to look as if he was snorting cocaine.

The controversy died down after Damiano’s drug test came back negative of course. You knew that a drug test would come back negative anyway, nobody in the band did any drugs. With the exception of cigarettes and alcohol, if you consider those to be drugs.

Flash forward once again to the present day, less than a few months after Eurovision. Your visa is about to expire, so you plan on bidding your friends farewell again tomorrow. Suddenly, your phone goes off. It’s Thomas blowing up your messages. He’s asking about learning English, interviews, and telling you about the planned tour. You answer his texts with short replies. You tell him that it’s because you're busy packing your belongings in a suitcase, but in reality, it's not just that. Paparazzi photos of him and his girlfriend out and about on a date were published the previous day, and when you saw them, that stinging bitter feeling of jealousy came back. You knew that Thomas didn’t know about your feelings and therefore wasn’t trying to hurt you. Nor was the woman he was dating.

You slid your phone into your pocket and left the hotel room.

#maneskin #måneskin #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader

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justkpopjokes · 6 months ago

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“Giant Bees!” || Lee Know

Ft. Lee Know + florist!Felix cameo (not ship) AU: giant beekeeper Word Count: 698 A/N: Indirectly requested by my bestie jaesea on May 28th of 2020 LMAO it literally took me 3 years smh (also @/hagun-suna I started writing a baker!minho for you YEARS ago and I decided to combine it with this one! idk if you’ll even see this HAHA I doubt you’ll read it but just wanted to say I thought of you!)

if you’d like to reblog just my fanart you can see it on my art blog ^^

If you know my fics, you’ll know that each AU comes with a twist…this one is giant bees

That’s not a figure of speech lmao the twist is that there are giant bees

Like I need you to understand that Minho takes care of LITERAL GINORMOUS BEES

It’s a bit of a challenge considering the bees are larger than his head

Averaging 1 foot (~0.3 metres) long, Apis magna is the world’s largest species of bee!

(For context, a normal honeybee is 0.5 in or 1.2 cm long, which is 0.04 ft or 0.012 m)

Entomologists would be hesitant to even call it a bee anymore if it wasn’t for the blatant bee-haviour ahahahahah get it bee behaviour and appearance of a bee

(The drawing I made for the header is just a cuter depiction lol

I imagine they’d look more realistic, but you can also imagine lil blobs for this fic)

Minho took up beekeeping after discovering that the giant bees visiting his garden acted like his cats

His cats were actually scared of them at first LMAO but these giant bees don’t sting because they have lost their usual natural predators

In fact, they don’t seem to have any natural predators and don’t reproduce as often as normal bees, so they’re rare to find

Kind of more like something out of a fairy tale than an actual insect

But, somehow, Minho finds one such giant bee in his garden one morning feeding on the few colourful flowers he has planted there

He’s spooked at first, but his cats start playfully swatting at the bee and the bee seems to be having fun with them

So Minho brings out a jar of honey from his kitchen to feed the big bee

The bee drinks some of the honey and then flies off on its way

The next day, he wakes up finding 3 in his backyard

It understandably FREAKS HIM TF OUT and he doesn’t really know what to do??? Who does he even call???? Pest control seems a bit much?????

His cats seem to be playing with them again, though, so maybe this isn’t a huge problem (figuratively, of course)

So he calls his friend Felix who happens to be a florist

Minho: “FELIX I found a giant bee in my backyard yesterday AND THEY MULTIPLIED WHAT DO I DO??”

Felix: “Woah woah okay calm down, I’ll come over with some sunflowers”

Felix stops by and helps Minho plant some sunflowers in his backyard

Apis Magna love sunflowers because there are certain species of flowers that evolved to also be larger, which makes it easier for the bees to drink nectar from and pollinate

The obvious solution in Minho’s eyes is that Felix takes the bees, but beekeeping with giant bees isn’t like normal beekeeping

You can’t really choose where to keep the bees, they just fly out on their route to where they want

And if they trust you, they’ll let you harvest honey from their hive!

So, essentially, Minho got chosen to be their beekeeper LOL

He gave them honey one (1) time and they sort of imprinted on him

Bees were rlly like “we like this one can we keep him?”

(haha they beekeep but like the other way around,,,)

So Felix advises Minho to try and follow the bees

Once they trust him enough, they’ll lead him to their hive

Minho isn’t really focused on getting honey, but one day, all 3 of his cats run off

And so he follows them out…

…and finds the beehive!

A few bees seem to greet him, which he recognizes as the original bees in his garden!

They’re sort of fuzzy, so he gets an itch when they start to rub against his face

Anyway, he’s just there to collect his cats…but now that he knows where the hive is, might as well collect some!

So he collects some delicious honey (and his cats), pets some bees, and then heads home

From then on the bees visit Minho’s garden and he asks Felix for more flowers in exchange for their honey!

And they lived habeely ever after the end :D

#stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #lee know imagines #lee know fanfic #stray kids au #stray kids #jkj fics #.txt

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princeanxious · 1 year ago

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Hi! I was wondering about your Lost Guardian au from ages ago, do you think you’ll ever plan on updating it and if not, could someone else take up the fic?

So heres the thing. If someone wants to write a fic *inspired* by The Lost Guardian, i’m not gonna stop them, and i’d probably feel super honored so long as the inspiration was correctly credited!

As for ‘taking up the fic,’ the short answer is no.

I have active drafts and the rest of the story already planned out to its finish, notes, even a branch-off fic set post-story that will likely go up on my nsfw blog if i ever get around to editing it. The Lost Guardian hasn’t been abandoned, it’s simply on hiatus. (And yes, i recognize 3 almost 4 years so far is a really fucking long hiatus. The Chapter 9 draft doc was made in december of 2020, and last edited in July 2022)

I started writing that fic whilst still in highschool, a time where I was 17 and didnt have to worry yet about getting my license or maintaining a part time job, i had an over abundance of freetime even partially to my detriment, the fandom was booming and I had plenty of feedback, and this fic was (and still *is*) a story im proud of.

But i’m 22 now, working a full time job to pay rent and account for a number of minor ‘disabilities’(best word i have for them atm) that I cant ignore or push to the side nor treat poorly, from the lasting effects on my body of stunted growth to celiac/glutent intolerance to adhere to that directly determines how easily my body functions for the week, to dealing with glasses i cannot afford to break and taking care of teeth i cannot afford to fix, taking care of my mental health and using the free time i have to do what brings me the most joy at that time.

The sanders sides fandom has heavily quieted down with the season finale hiatus and I’d like to think I did pretty well for going six long years dedicated solely to that without cracking under the silence, because *I knew* when I caved to something else it’d be a long while before I had the drive to come back with any sort of resolution to my active works. Thats just how my hyper fixations work. I cannot focus on multiple at once, it’s too much to process simultaneously and takes away my enjoyment bc I tend to watch/consume things repeatedly to catch every little detail i missed. And it doesn’t help when one loses steam because their content barely breaks 100 notes(80% of which are likes, 15% are reblogs with the occasional comment, and 5% are self-reblogs) when back in the height of it all, a few thousand notes was pretty average interaction. This blog still has about 11.5k followers, almost all of which came from the height of the fandom period. So for now i’ve moved onto the FNAF DCA fandom, bc it is fresh and new to me.

I know you didn’t mean to poke the bear here, I get it, but like.. C’mon. Any other fic of mine likely wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction in full but, still. I’ve had to answer this question a handful of times over the years at the point, which might be why this response feels so charged, and i’m sorry.

I don’t mean to come off as snippy or rude, but it *is* kind of invasive to offer to finish one’s creative work when it’s taking too long and theres very little payback for it. I’ve got adhd, delayed satisfaction isn’t a thing I experience. Just guilt that it wasn’t finished in a way for me to post it in time before I broke and lost all motivation to share it.

In my head, TLG has been long finished and held the ending for years, theres just been no energy to put in the effort of finish writing it for others to read. I’m still trying to get my life together to change that, don’t get me wrong, but the American economy is literally in shambles so who knows how or even if i’ll manage that. Call me selfish for being content with only mentally having my creative story’s ending and a collection of rambles and notes to show for it, but at the end of the day, it’s still my story, and i dont feel comfortable with people trying to ‘take up the mantle’ to finish it, when they don’t know how it ends.

I’m glad you like it enough to want to, though, I really *really* am. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to finish it for you all. And i just don’t know when that will be, I just know that I *want* to do so, however long it takes.

#luka answers #sanders sides #tlg fic #the lost guardian au #luka’s aus #luka rambles #luka rants

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bcofl0ve · 8 months ago

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I'm new here so sorry if you've talked about it before, but what's the tea between Austin and Olivia deJonge? a while ago I heard someone say that they had something during the filming of Elvis but that they are no longer close and don't follow each other on Instagram. they also said that Austin was unfaithful to Vanessa with her, but tbh I don't give these rumors about celebrities cheating much credibility unless they are 100% confirmed 😅 thanks!!

oh, my sweet summer child…*pats your head*. this has become a veryyy contentious topic on my blog so i don’t talk about it much anymore but since you’re a new fan looking for info, as was i once, i will do one Final brain dump about it.

he still follows her and her finstas that i don’t think she uses anymore lol, but yes olivia unfollowed him in september. something that is funny (at least to me) within the context that said unfollow was when she went out with sophie turner and taylor swift. like…what did blondie say that pushed you ever the edge girl LOL. then little miss instagram anxiety unfollowed 100 random accounts the next day trying to pretend it wasn’t selective.

this is also a little contentious because there isn’t proof proof in the form of like kissing photos or something (just beach pap photos from nov 2020 where they aren’t touching each other haha). but in my humble opinion they were involved during filming.

timeline gets a little messy at the start, but i do think re: some late december early january gossip about him being seen with olivia that austin and v were broken up a hot minute before it came out publicly on jan 14th 2020 so 🤷🏼‍♀️. don’t think it was some big affair. they were def broken up before jan 2nd, a day that will leave in infamy lmfao. olivia posted a photo in austin’s shirt, which v fans clocked immediately bc he’d wore in it on vacation with v. and this was jan 2nd, two weeks before the breakup went public. i wasn’t in the fandom for this, but as ive been told it was a real mess. olivia went private briefly, deleted the pics, asked the society fans to take the photos down and it was the beginning of instagram becoming the seemingly anxiety inducing thing for that that it is now.

(ex: after the oscars last year she posted some elvis filming throwbacks on her story as a nice little end of the era thing. one of her and austin she wrote ‘so proud 🥀 @austinbutler’ on. she then deleted that story, reposted it, deleted it again, and reposted it without the text.)

and i mean yeah- big (probably intentional) goof on her part with the shirt thing. but idk. she was 21 at the time, and i’m willing to give 21 year olds a little girl what are you doing grace.

whatever happened between her and austin, the most she’s done re ‘shade’ is liking a comment someone left on her page saying she deserved better when he was seen with lily rose and something got sent to deuxmoi that said he’d cheated on her (imo he didn’t. she was just hurt bc seeing him move on stung, or maybe the door that should have been fully shut wasn’t. lily was august 2021, he left australia march 2021)- and hanging out with v a handful of times mid 2022 (though she herself never posted about it, it was either other people or paps).

a lot of people on here reallyyyy don’t like her, but i’m a fan so that’s my girl. i have a real big soft spot for her, and a while ago when a friend of mine in the fandom at the time told me ‘oh the internet wasn’t nice to her at all’ in the months after the shirt debacle it really hurt my heart.

even with a little smidgeee of shade as explained above ^ i think she’s handled whatever maybe not so positive feelings she has towards him reasonably. they seemed to get a long just fine and happy during elvis press- esp so in toronto which my fav interviews of the two of them are from bc that press tour stop was just them and baz. she’s never said a negative world about him publicly, and i doubt she ever will. the most candid she’s ever been about elvis filming was an interview earlier this year where she said she did ‘a lot of growing up on that job’ and that she sees her life as before and after elvis. i think that’s the most “deep” she’ll ever go down that road, at least for a long while.

between her unfollowing him in sept, turning off her tagged photos in feburary. and recently deleting a comment v left on a post of hers within 30 seconds (i presume bc she knew just like we did that v was doing that for drama/attention, it was right after austin’s esquire interview where he briefly, respectfully talked about her), i think she’s genuinely trying to move on with her life. which can be hard! i never get over anyone! and if my personal read is right that she was a mix between a rebound and the priscilla to his elvis when he was really living in that man’s head that’s even more of an idk…niche heartbreak to have to wrestle with? whether the other party actually did anything wrong or not. i don’t think austin did anything to her or broke her heart with any malicious intent at all. none of the olivia/austin stuff changes how i see him as a fan. he’s a complex human, olivia is a complex human. that’s the gist.

#sorry for the essay LOL #lots of thoughts #lots of lore

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iamamythologicalcreature · 1 year ago

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Can I be real for a second?

I’ve gone back and forth in my head about whether or not to post about this very real side of me online or not. There’s nothing shameful about being disabled, but I don’t want to be known as my disability, either. I don’t want that to be my identity.

But I’m hoping to post some of my writing tomorrow for Six Sentence Sunday. Post something I’ve written, albeit just a small bit, online where anyone can see it. It will be the first time I’ve done so since the car accident three years ago. And the truth is, the terrible truth is, my writing is what hurts the most.

Stories have always been a part of my life. They have always been my motivation, why I slogged through everything else - my reason for existing. I wrote novels and hoped to publish, and I fell in love with the writing community and made it my home. I volunteered and organized events. I created an extremely successful and fulfilling teen writing club where I taught creative writing. I was in love with stories, and writing them. I have never not been in love with stories.

(Before I was a writer I was an artist. I’m not going to go into that part of my life in detail, but it was just as heavily affected.)

At the beginning of 2020 I was in a car accident. The driver at fault was pulling out of a bar parking lot in the middle of the day. Make of that what you will. The accident he caused left me with more than a few issues, but for this post I’m focusing on the vision impairment.

Because of COVID, I wasn’t able to seek any diagnosis or treatment until June. I didn’t even begin physical therapy until August. Due to a myriad of issues and unfortunate reasons, I couldn’t complete my treatment. That meant a year and a half of work and struggle went down the drain.

This continues to affect me in many ways. Sometimes it’s things that you might expect - I can’t read Tumblr, or books, most days. Some limitations are less obvious, like how I’m afraid to ask questions (e.g. “what kind of car did Fiona drive?”) because the resources to find the answers myself are out there. Why don’t I just google it? Or reference that amazing spreadsheet someone did? Why am I asking other people to do the work for me? Am I just lazy?

People don’t mean to judge (and I’m sure there are plenty who don’t). But my issues aren’t apparent, so they won’t know unless I take the time to explain it. Able-eyed people should be able to find these simple answers. Just look in the book.

So I don’t ask. Or I apologize a lot for asking. Because it’s just too hard to explain why I need such basic help. (And sadly, some people still don’t believe me and treat me as thought I’m making excuses.)

I lost most of my friends simply for being unable to chat online, particularly during lockdown. I kept three people in my life - the three people willing to break with their comfort zones and talk to me on the phone instead of via text or chat. Those people probably saved my life. I know everyone went through isolation issues in 2020. But I went through them unable to even use a computer or read a book.

Since I’m typing this, you can guess that I’ve recovered somewhat, or made some accommodations that help. Yes. I have. Both of those. But I still have more bad days than good. Typing too long, or playing a phone game, surfing Tumblr - anything done for too long can break my eyes and send me back into total isolation for days.

I was a really good writer. I would regularly write 10-20k every weekend, and I wrote well. I wrote great stuff. (Rough drafts are always rough drafts, but I felt good about what I wrote.) I would sink into a character and go for hours.

Here’s the part that’s relevant to me now: I can’t do that anymore. I can’t write for hours, I can’t take the time to slip into character. I’m doing really well if I can pound out a speedy 1k in 30 minutes and have it not break my eyes. (It usually breaks my eyes.)

If you’re a writer, though - or any kind of creative - you know that the need doesn’t just go away.

(I have tried to record notes on my phone, but I just cannot dictate writing fiction. Only my fingers know how to speak well, and in character. And no, I’m not going to learn braille. It would not be helpful.)

So I’m going to try to write. It’s going to suck, because the things I did to write well before are things I can’t do anymore. I will cry. And then I will wait a week or however long it takes for my eyes to chill the fuck out, and I’ll try again.

(I’ve also started treatment again, just this month. I have to start at square one again, which means it will get worse before it gets better. It will take time, and money - lots of both. Like years. But I can’t give up.)

Anyway. This is why I chose the Simon Snow fandom to try again, for the first time in forever. Because that’s the story, and those are the characters, and these are the people. I know it. So. Hi.

#this is real #some real me stuff in between the fun fandom fluff #reality of disability #actually disabled #vision impairment #keep on #carry on #simon snow series #fandom community #open for voice chat cause really...#questions accepted here #gulp here I go posting now

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zukadiary · 1 year ago

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Anastasia (Umeda Arts, 2023)

I’m flattered that the overwhelming response to my poll was to bring back reviews :D Since I posted that, Takarazuka has unfortunately been involved in a terrible tragedy (additional information here). I may review the Takarazuka performances I was able to see at a later date, but at the moment I’m going to take some space from doing so.

In the meantime, a very bright spot in a long-awaited trip otherwise filled with multiple bouts of shocking news was the Broadway musical Anastasia, featuring Asami Hikaru (my ご贔屓, kamioshi, bias to end all biases, for those who joined during COVID and somehow missed this) amidst a rather star-studded cast. Getting to see Anastasia was quite special, not only because it’s been 4 1/2 years since I was last able to travel to Japan and see Komu, but also because I HAD tickets to the original Spring 2020 run before, well, you know (not to mention the ruined plans to see fave #2 as the same role in the tkz version). On top of that, it was good.

The Broadway version of Anastasia follows two con men in post-revolution Russia, Dmitri and Vlad, who, amidst rumors that Anastasia Romanov has somehow survived the execution of the rest of the royal family, accidentally find the real one while auditioning actresses to pretend to be her for reward money.

Given that my bias to end all biases taidan’d 17 years ago, I’ve seen my fair share of Japanese theater outside of Takarazuka in my quest to spend as much time in her presence as humanly possible. Usually, I find the non-OG cast members (especially men!!) unimpressive to the point of superfluousness. Imagine my shock when I found myself raising my opera glasses when Komu wasn’t even on stage.

Ranking!!

Anya: Aoi Wakana / Kinoshita Haruka

Anya is a poor street sweeper with amnesia who has a feeling SOMEONE is waiting for her in Paris (turns out it’s her grandmother, the dowager empress). I was supposed to see each actress twice, but due to the flu making its rounds through the cast, I ended up seeing Wakana three times and Haruka only once… which is unfortunate, because Haruka is an absolute powerhouse, and Wakana is a TV actress. The cast lineup for my first of four viewings was absolutely flawless, and I wish it had been the finale instead (especially because I was in shock from Sora taidan dropping like 3 hours prior to curtain). Haruka has a Broadway-quality voice, and her acting not only made sense, but also lacked that peculiar anime-like delivery that most of the Japanese actors I’ve seen have in spades (IYKYK). Although perhaps she returned from flu recovery too quickly and didn’t have her whole voice, Wakana’s singing wasn’t really up to the challenge of the role; all of Anya’s big solo’s were rendered anticlimactic by very flat long notes. I also found her acting to be over the top and desperate, whereas Haruka’s was quite nuanced.

Dmitri: Kaiho Naoto / Aiba Hiroki / Utsumi Akiyoshi

Dmitri is the romantic lead, something of a street urchin who starts off by hatching a moneymaking scheme to produce a fake Anastasia, and ultimately gives it all up after falling in love with Anya. I got to see Kaiho and Aiba, and to be honest, the only reason I’m not mad I had to see Aiba once is because that day Kaiho Naoto was Gleb. I know I am very late to this party, but this was the first time I got to see Kaiho Naoto live, and hooooooooooo boy. That man’s voice gave me chills, he acts like a normal person and not a cartoon, and his facial expressions are SO dynamic. His fans in the FIRST ROW had their opera glasses up, and now I take back making fun of them in my head. Incredible casting choice for Dmitri; he did an amazing job going through the full range of emotions and showing character growth, plus he looked so good in that scruffy little outfit. Tbh, marry me (Aiba on the other hand was an anime boy made flesh and blood and I can’t say I cared for it).

Vlad: Osumi Kenya / Ishikawa Zen

Vlad is Dmitri’s old man friend, a former aristocrat and adulterous lover to Lily. This one is slightly less cut and dry because both actors had their merits, but alas, I’m a big Ishikawa Zen fan. Osumi Kenya is a dancer and Zen is not, and that was quite apparent in any scene with choreography. Other than that, I quite preferred Zen’s knockout voice, nuanced acting, and overflowing kindness. He’s irl bffs with Komu, so I found his Vlad’s chemistry with Lily to be more compelling; but he also integrated himself seamlessly into each cast, despite that I imagine it’s tricky to get the best possible rapport going when the roles are changing all the time. Osumi definitely gave his Vlad quite a bit of enjoyable energy and unique flair, but ultimately, I thought his Vlad was a bit over the top (he’d be a huge hit in a kids’ show), and he seemed to be acting next to rather than with the rest of the cast.

Gleb: Kaiho Naoto / Douchin Yoshikuni / Tashiro Mario

Gleb, a Bolshevik general trying to fill the shoes of his father who relished executing the Romanov family, is the villain of the show. I was SUPPOSED to see all three Glebs, and I’m quite sad I didn’t, but the flu took Tashiro Mario. I ended up seeing Douchin three times and Kaiho once. This is REALLY HARD, and it’s likely impossible to separate out my feelings toward Kaiho’s Gleb in isolation, because Dmitri, without Kaiho in the role, was not compelling, so the overall impact of the show was less on the not-Douchin day. Kaiho showed up again with the voice that gives you chills, and while his performance throughout most of the show was a bit more low-key, his final scene, in which he attempts to get Anya to admit she’s playing around and return to Russia lest he be forced to shoot her on the spot if she is in fact the real Anastasia, was ABSOLUTELY FUCKING UNHINGED (spit flying everywhere, no wonder everyone got sick). Douchin, however, also has quite a powerful voice, and I think overall he did a better job of coming off as creepy and weird. He was awkward in kind of an is-this-guy-ok way, his barely concealed feelings for Anya were both clearer and more unsettling, and he felt believably indoctrinated into an ideology vs. just this is the villain because we said he’s the villain. His slick, jet-black hair and choice to wear light blue colored contacts also really enhanced the evil image. I really regret not getting to see Tashiro Mario, but I think my ever so slight preference here is Douchin just because his presence balanced the rest of the cast.

Lily: Asami Hikaru / Marcia / Horiuchi Keiko

Lily is the dowager empress's lady-in-waiting, a former countess who, in her younger days, cheated on her boring husband with Vlad and is currently tending to the dowager empress in refugee-laden Paris. LBR, I didn’t fly across the world to see the other two (although 3 or so days into my trip there was a SCARE where Komu was announced out with an injury, and I thought I might have to… but she recovered in time for my first show!). Ohhhh it was so nice, I missed her more than my COVID-era complacence led me to believe. Lily was a very fun and pleasant Komu role for me. Homegirl is 51 now (don’t talk to me) and fresh taidansha like Tamaki Ryou are getting the heroines she played a decade and a half ago, but Lily isn’t exactly someone’s mom either. She’s funny, and sassy, and wears sick costumes, and has DANCE NUMBERS! Which she did without looking injured at all! With the exception of like 20 seconds in the prologue, Lily does not appear at all until Act 2, but Act 2 is very juicy. I think I liked the look-Vlad’s-back tango even better than her piano-top nightclub solo, but both were utterly delightful. She also has great chemistry with her Yukigumi top senpai Asami Rei, comfortable yet reverent (just like in real life!). I juuuUUUUuuUUUUuuuSsstttt wish they would lower the key for her… just a little… as a treat.........

Dowager Empress Maria: Asami Rei (more like Asami SLAY)

Y’all… seeing Asami Rei live has BEEN on my bucket list, and the experience did not disappoint. Her voice may be going, but it’s completely age appropriate, and she could have done literally anything up on that stage without it ruining the impact of her presence. I legit inadvertently gasped "mother" into my mask when she made her appearance in a black and silver bejeweled gown to attend the ballet… serving boatloads of charisma uniqueness nerve and talent at 73, to say the least.

The ensemble was also a force and the songs were expertly directed, giving the whole show a stunning sound that has been rare in my experience with Japanese musicals (part vocal talent, part book made for Broadway). The play-within-a-play scene at the ballet was genuinely impressive (it's been a while since I've seen a man jump that high). All in all, a treat to watch!

#reviews #anastasia 2023 #tadaima 23

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 9 months ago

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After death | Lost Gods

He looks at the skyline ahead of him, its famous shapes that tourists gape at like they’re observing a gorilla in an enclosure. It’s all grey to him, not just because of the looming storm but because the grids of buildings and lights have become boring in a way that seems fatal—this city is a dead thing on earth, he doesn’t care what anyone says. It’s all post-mortem—the blinking traffic lights, shafts of sunlight interrupted by high-rises, yellow taxis honking, honking, honking, like they’re shouting a prayer. He feels sort of like that too, caught in kitschy after death.

A little Harrison art <3 !! And an excerpt from the opening of Lost Gods!

4 years ago today I finished writing his very first solo novel, Moth Work, & I’m kind of in awe of how far we’ve come in that short time… 4 novels & 2 novellas narrated by this man who’s a little embarrassing and a whole lot profound (but you didn’t hear that from me!). A few more thoughts under the cut, but here’s a little note I made myself in 2020, the only note I’ve ever made after finishing a book (possibly because finishing this one changed my life a little).

TW for mentions of: mental illness, trauma in the mental health system, internalized homophobia

Technically I finished Moth Work at 2:34AM because I lived on the west coast at the time lol.

I don’t usually celebrate or remember the anniversaries of finishing books. But I wanted to celebrate this one because a) it’s Leap Day & I haven’t been able to commemorate what I was doing during the last one for 4 years, & b) because finishing MW was such a significant accomplishment!

I started MW in January of 2019 because I was struggling emotionally. At the time, I was racing to figure out “what was wrong with me” before flying across the country for uni in the summer (SPOILER I WAS JUST AUTISTIC LMAO), which led to a lot of stressful and traumatizing appointments with doctors. I desperately needed a book to cheer me up but a different one from my WIP at the time, especially because in 2018, I’d both discovered my voice and become really afraid of messing it up!

I also was taking a religion class at the time that was emotionally difficult for me because I felt reallyyyy alone and especially isolated in my queerness that I’d been hiding for a couple years at that point (& that I literally would not talk about at all, not even to people I trusted). When it became very clear I needed an outlet to explore my feelings (of being “unhelpable,” internalized homophobia, a general sense of aloneness/isolation) the decision of what I was going to write became pretty clear.

I’d written 3 stories in Harrison’s POV that predated MW starting in late 2018 (they were also my first explorations in third person present tense, which fun fact, I only tried in his POV because I’ve always written my notes ideas in that POV/tense combo, even when I only wrote first person!). I hadn’t written in a different POV character’s head beside’s Reeve’s since 2016, so it felt natural that the second character I felt closest to (Harrison!!!) could be a narrator. Funnily at this time Lonan was my favourite so I’m actually surprised I did not choose him but can we imagine how different things would be if I had???

I started Moth Work in my notes app (ICONIC) on January 16th 2019 at 11:37pm! The first chapter came pretty quickly, is actually quite non-linear for a bit, and was overall a lot of fun to write. I’d planned for the project to maybe be a short story or at the most a novella (does this sound familiar), nothing very long and definitely not a novel. I believe the goal word count was 5k which is so funny bc that’s exactly how Changing States & Lost Gods started!!!

And then the project stagnated, it wasn’t something I’d planned to write seriously, and I didn’t pick it back up until August of that year when my therapist at the time suggested I try to complete a “reach goal” as I was reaching Crisis and I guess I was so done with everything going on in my life that I was like okay fine!!!! I will write Moth Work as a novel!!!!

This book literally flew with me across the country… I wrote a lot of it late at night in my dorm with all the lights off after a long day on campus. I wrote a lot of it in my intro to sociology lecture LMAO. I wrote a lot of it on my phone. It was the first project (no literally) where I intentionally explored queerness, especially my own feelings as a (sort of?) catholic at the time. I explored atheism a lot! Something I needed to process my own feelings about faith & God. I explored what it’s like to be this completely unhelpable person because you’ve decided there’s no possible way to help yourself anymore (hiiii Lonan). I also explored (a bit like a premonition), what it’s like to care deeply for someone you can’t help (but that you very badly want to help).

And I almost didn’t finish the book! The imposter syndrome and insecurity went crazyyy when writing Moth Work. I didn’t feel like I was writing the First Person Retrospective Flowery Literary Fiction I’d deemed as the only possible “good writing.” (Still LOVE but I really was struggling seeing a very minor style shift, which is funnily much closer to my writing now than when I was writing the “best” way.) I deleted so much from this book. I couldn’t look at it. I was so embarrassed by it!! I made ultimatums with it!! I edited it so much but still couldn’t stand it! It was literally the safest space I had and I could barely be there a lot of the time!!!

SOOOO this is why I’m very proud of me for finishing it lol & while I would typically have celebrated the anniversary idk, in 2021, bc it didn’t exist until this year it felt apt to sit with those feelings now. I’m really proud of 17-year-old Rachel who was undiagnosed autistic & convinced I was a lost cause, who was sooo afraid of being queer I could only think of that through Lonan (& sometimes still do thx king 🫡) who literallyyyyy wrote a masterpiece in my collection that contains some of my best work (even if I only realized that 4 years later) & that’s been the start of EVERYTHING!

This is so much more than a book or an anniversary!! Somehow I made it through all the things I didn’t think were possible and now have written 2 books & 3 (writing the fourth) novellas allllll in this world. AND 2 additional novels in his POV!! Also thank you baby Rachel for Jeremiah. Like hello!!!! This is the only place I felt safe to be myself when I couldn’t be with anyone else! And there’s something priceless about that…

And it’s all bc of Harrison!!! Whoever I saw in that man in 2019… girl thank you!! Can’t explain what it’s like to grow with that character (who is sooo much more than that to me). Never would I have predicted where I am now. And IMO, that’s all thanks to him so ily fictional man in my head, this is soooo his day LOL.

& if you were here since the first MW update & made it this far… I MUST KNOW!!!!

#art #GETTING GUSHY UNDER THE CUT I COULDN’T HELP IT #tl;dr ily harrison #also everyone weigh in - what’s he listening to?????#IM THINKING OF READING SOME OF MW FROM THE PRINTED COPY #AT THE STREAM TOMORROW!!! SO COME!!!!#CELEBRATE THE DAY!!! YAYY!!!

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for-yoongi0309 · 2 years ago

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BTS’ Suga on going solo, his love of hip-hop and the band’s future:

‘We’re real brothers, period’

“If I do well, that’s good,” says Suga. “If my family members do well, that’s even better.”

However you look at the current purgatory for K-pop superstars BTS — a long-expected pause for military service, a renewed focus on solo careers or an existential crisis for the genre — there are significant stakes not just for the group, but for the global music industry. While the seven members of the most successful act in South Korean history take turns, based on their respective birthdates, performing mandatory 18-month turns in the military — Jin and J-Hope are currently serving — those not yet conscripted have the chance to reestablish themselves as solo acts, after six chart-topping Billboard albums and six No. 1 Hot 100 singles. For the band’s label, Hybe, in the midst of a global acquisition spree, billions of dollars are potentially on the line. Bang Si-hyuk, Hybe chairman, recently stated that there is no set date for BTS’ comeback as a group, though he hopes they can return in 2025. Before beginning his military term later this year, group member Suga is touring U.S. arenas on the back of his solo debut album, “D-Day,” performed under the alias Agust D (he has two other mixtapes as Agust D). The dark, smoldering rap album debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200.

This week, Suga will perform three sold-out shows at Inglewood’s Kia Forum, on May 10, 11 and 14. However, he swears, he’s not competitive about it with his bandmates. “Are you competitive with your family members? Do you get jealous if your brother or your sister does well?” he asked with a laugh during a Zoom interview (Suga spoke through a Korean translator). “We’re real brothers, period. If I do well, that’s good. If my family members do well, that’s even better.”

Suga’s Agust D alias has long turned heads within the BTS solo-project sphere. Sometimes, those heads nearly get decapitated via giant ritual temple sword, as in his 2020 video for the rowdy “Daechwita.” Other times, they get stabbed right through with a pair of chopsticks, as Suga does himself in the deliciously grisly, “Oldboy”-worthy video for the new single “Haegeum.” It’s tough to square this genuinely transgressive solo artist with the snazzy-suited, fleet-footed heartthrob harmonizing on a Hot 100 hit like “Butter.” Devoted BTS Army fans know that Suga has an underground streak from his pre-BTS days, cribbing production notes from pioneering Korean rap acts like Epik High.

“Some bright and cheerful songs go into BTS,” he said. “But I’ve been doing music without any filter all the time, so I wouldn’t differentiate between Agust D or Suga, because all those are all me.” Still, “D-Day” is a standout, and not just for the sub-shaking production and gory videos. “Haegeum” is lacerating about modern life in South Korea: “Maybe we do it to ourselves/ Slaves to capitalism, slaves to money / Slaves to hatred and prejudice/ Slaves to YouTube, slaves to flexin’.” – Then he turns his blade on the internet culture that fascinates and destroys young people “Endless influx of information prohibits freedom of imagination / And seeks conformity of thought / All these painful noises blind you.”

“We’re living a life that’s better than ever before,” Suga said. “Some say we all live better lives than the king hundreds of years ago. But everything we worry about is coming too fast. Everyone’s lonely without having a sense of belonging, we can’t relate to the things that our parents have experienced, like being obsessed with accomplishments. Nobody feels a sense of belonging.”

Suga’s not immune from self-criticism, either. On “People Pt. 2,” with K-pop R&B singer IU, he sorts out his wariness around intimacy. “Selflessness can actually be selfish too, it’s true / It’s actually my greed when I say that it’s all for you.” – “This thing called love … it’s conditional,” he sings. “Wasn’t loved enough as a kid, that’s why I’m the cautious type.” Suga, born Min Yoon-gi, famously broke down in tears after seeing his formerly reluctant parents attend a BTS show in 2016. What did they make of that song?

“I don’t actually let my parents listen to my music before it’s released because there’s so many swear words,” Suga answered with a laugh. “My parents only listen to BTS songs. Things are good with us.”

On one hand, being in a globally famous act means any slip-up could be perilous. On the other, BTS-size stardom and a reputation for real artistry allow for uncommon candor, said Sang Cho, co-founder of the L.A.-based K-pop distribution and event firm KAI Media. “Suga and RM are to BTS what Lennon and McCartney were to the Beatles. Every member is talented, but these two are definitely the driving force behind their music,” Cho said. “I think Suga is a bit more Lennon — more explicit in his anti-establishment sensibilities. ‘Haegeum’ is a double entendre of a traditional Korean string instrument and wordplay on ‘liberation from restrictions.’”

“D-Day” also reflects on the music that helped Suga become a serious artist. His track “Snooze” was one of the late Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto’s last collaborations, an artful yet stern track that brought Suga back to his teenage days learning to sample. “I’m not really good at piano, but I remember playing ‘Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence’ all day when I was young,” Suga said. “It’s impossible not to be influenced by him if you’re born in Korea. When I was young, I needed instrumentals without voice to sample, so I reversed and chopped his music. I am very grateful I can call him a mentor even though I only met him once.”

While Suga is playfully cynical about accolades like Grammy Awards — “Isn’t that a local thing?” he joked, echoing South Korean director Bong Joon-ho’s quip about the Oscars — he has nuanced thoughts about his place in hip-hop. “I did have that differentiation when I was younger. I hoped that [rap fans] would approve of my music,” he said. “But I have this very firm belief that if I go to a hip-hop concert, where there’ll be only hip-hop fans, well, BTS fans are hip-hop fans too. I’m a huge fan of hip-hop, but what’s important here is that it’s not empty words to do music for the people that have sent you love and support.” – As the members of BTS sort out these years in transition, they’re still in one another’s lives. BTS’ Jimin debuted atop the Hot 100 with “Like Crazy” in March. Suga can’t wait to be in the crowd cheering for his bandmates when their times come.

“If you live for 13 years in one house under the same roof 24/7, you become a family,” Suga said. “A lot of people think that the relationships between K-pop band members are kind of fake, but that’s not true. For me, it’s more like, ‘Oh, Jimin, hi! You made it to the Hot 100, I’m so proud of you!’”

#ultkpopnetwork #mgroupsedit #idolsincedits #maleidolsedit #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #bangtan #bts #i/n.article news #i. interviews #latimes.mag

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asherlockstudy · 2 years ago

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What are your thoughts on today's EB? I enjoyed every bit of it, it entailed a convo that was a long way coming for Link. I personally thought Rhett tried his utmost not to hurt Link even a little as he attempted to make him see the full picture regarding his social behaviour, it was so sweet and endearing.

I did something stupid. Even though I knew it was an important EB, I did not keep notes like that other time a few weeks ago. Also it was a kind of emotionally charged day for me too so everything’s a little bit of a mess in my head and I am pretty sure I won’t remember everything I was thinking at the time I was watching. It was a lot. This was a checkpoint in their podcast, in many ways.

When the podcast starts and Link is back from his trip, Rhett is still a little off. So even though some days must have passed, there is still something up between them. This is again something clearer on Rhett’s side. He is the one who’s antsy about something and Link responds to that. So, whatever the initial situation was, it was almost certainly Rhett who took an issue with it.

Rhett stings a little: “Don’t feel any obligation to listen to it” (his solo podcast), “You’re too busy for that”, “You know me well enough to not need to listen to me talk without you there”. I am pretty sure Link was joking there, but Rhett was responding more seriously and slightly bitterly. Furthermore that last thing is something I would bet Rhett feels it isn’t mutual; that Rhett can’t easily be absent and not care about what Link might say in his absence. Ironically enough, this eventually becomes the central theme in the podcast.

Then as Rhett explains why he’s taking the next week, he reveals how they barely saw each other in March and April and he is calm but you can see he is pissed about it. Maybe the tension has something to do with this after all. Link is a little defensive there, maybe for the cameras, saying they saw each other plenty, to which Rhett has to bite his tongue and take a sip from his cup. This makes me think that Rhett might consider Link partially responsible for the very little time they had together during these months. But this brought back memories of peak needy!Rhett during the 2020 covid carantine 😅

To reinforce his vibe of neediness, Rhett next blames Link for not persuading him to learn scuba diving earlier, saying it was an awesome experience that they needed to share together. At this point, Link is parts startled and amused, because he is secretly flattered by Rhett’s neediness. Link sort of explains that he just wasn’t used to being the one to take the initiative in their relationship and I sense there was some fear of Rhett rejecting / criticising his suggestions, but also Link almost certainly didn’t enjoy scuba diving as hugely as Rhett, that’s why he undersold it a bit in Rhett’s perception. Link feels that he has invested so much in Rhett, that there is a nasty defensiveness coming out of him in the weirdest of moments. Which is why when he has alternatives, he doesn’t want to show he needs Rhett so badly in order to do something. Rhett responds to that bitterly as well, saying: “Well, I would have begged you. Just saying”. So, you see, different love languages. But Link smiles through it, because of Rhett’s loving whine.

Skipping to the ski pass thing. This is so much more TRIVIAL than anyone made it to be, meaning Rhett and Jenna and Christy. Their reactions were SO dramatic. Okay Link messed up a bit but he had paid for all these passes and he went in with the confidence of the payer, you know. He didn’t think that they would ask all his autobiography for a ski pass. Obviously, the right thing to do was to ask for a change of the data on the pass in advance. Obviously, he should tell the truth from the beginning. But what he thought and it’s understandable was “Oh shit, the card has Michael’s name on. That’s okay, I’ll say his name and she will let me in”. He didn’t expect the age would be on there too and that this would lead to further questions. It was understandable and quite possible to happen. And I do understand his argument about Angie being more abrupt than she should. Clearly, he was there with three other teens following him eagerly, like jeez. And even if I knew she was doing her job, I would too get irritable if I had paid for a shitload of passes that my friends were not utilising and then it was me getting dragged in front of 75 people like a thief or a kidnapper. I am not saying it’s the clever thing to do but it is human and understandable and Jenna and Rhett acting so dramatic about it was excessive in my opinion. I found Christy’s insinuations cruel in this instance too. It was clear that Link didn’t think everybody owed him to pass, he just didn’t think there would be any issue since he was the one paying anyway.

EDIT: At this point I decided to take my time with the ask and rewatch important parts

This simple incident provokes a more serious conversation. However, the conversation actually went sideways. The original topic was how and why Link instinctively chooses to escalate situations without a ground reason for it. However, as Rhett tries to explore it, they accidentally find themselves in deeper waters.

Anyway, Rhett starts analysing how Link never considers how a situation can get out of control in his interaction with people and how everything - even the amount of care you have about what people think of you - should be in moderation. Link is open and thankful for Rhett’s feedback, even though he feels defenceless, and Rhett kind of mellows down. The interesting thing is that this is not the main point concerning either one of them deep inside and you will soon get what I am saying. In his attempt to defend / explain himself, an apologetic speech about how he has learned to rely for everything on Rhett comes out of Link and it is like an indirect apology for not persuading Rhett to scuba dive with him. But this was something that was produced out of many twists and turns and it wasn’t exactly the point of what the conversation was at the moment (escalating situations and expecting someone else will always handle it), so it was more like Link found a small, irrelevant moment out of the blue to apologise to Rhett than anything else.

Rhett sees the green light and goes deeper and explains how Link being himself without filter might sometimes involve him in situations uncalled for. Link grimaces through this and after a deep breath, him trying to collect himself, asks Rhett’s opinion about the incident in the movie theatre. While it is implied the situation escalated somewhat, they did not talk about the escalation but the beginning of the interaction only. Rhett then becomes real and gets closer to the source of his own frustration; he feels like he can’t enjoy himself in a social situation because he has to always monitor Link. Furthermore, an escalation might eventually ruin their night out or also Rhett can often feel swallowed and overshadowed by Link’s so strong come-on entrance.

But was this Rhett’s only problem, especially about the guy in the theatre? The awkwardness? Let’s see some specific parts of their conversation:

Link: You say I try to connect aggressively, that I try to put myself out there.

Rhett: And if you want to go to parties by yourself and do whatever you want to and see where the cards fall…. But what I am saying is when you go somewhere with me, or with your wife or with a friend, just so you know, it is the thing they are preoccupied with, is a sense of “okay, is he gonna do something that kind of makes things a little bit awkward for what it feels like his own entertainment?… And maybe it is like a “hey, I am going to… I wanna connect with somebody”… and it’s like-

Link: It IS for my own entertainment.

Rhett: I think there is a common root, like “I am gonna say this thing in this situation; I’m not taking my phone out”, is the same, there is a common root to, “I am gonna come into this group and just say something that makes people feel uncomfortable because it’s kind of fun. And you know what, a lot of times it’s actually gonna lead to a stronger connection with somebody….”

Rhett looks quite pointedly at Link.

Link: I just don’t understand why, I mean, in my mind though, talking about my neurosis of me picking out the brand of shoe I am gonna wear to this movie was something that I thought this guy would get a kick out of and he might enjoy meeting me?! (*scoffs*)

Rhett: Yeah but… all I am saying is there is a sort of ribbing.

Am I wrong to believe there might have been another problem bleeding in in Rhett’s complain and Link had picked up on it and it was the one he was actually reacting to? In a rare occasion, Rhett asks Jenna if he’s making any sense and she is slightly confused and it’s because he is saying one main thing but there is also another thing bleeding in, which makes the dialogue a little complicated.

You see, while Rhett doesn’t say anything specifically negative about it, his posture, gestures and expressions have an accusative tone regarding the implication that Link tries to monopolise people’s attention so much that it might lead to a deeper connection later. And while Link listens thoughtfully, this is the one thing he reacts to. He actually said: “Do you really think me starting a joke conversation about my neurotic shoe concerns was me hoping the guy would want to meet up with me later?”

Like, he said that. That’s what he asked. And then Rhett says “No, but there’s a ribbing” before masterfully shifting the conversation.

Rhett was going so deep about this out of a place of wounded ego, if not jealousy. He questions the reasons Link wants strangers’ attention so bad, even if it is in a positive or negative way. He puts the thought out there that maybe there is something else Link wants but if it is so (wounded ego), then at least Link should not go about it when it’s Rhett or his wife escorting him. Then he concedes that it might be superficial, a playfulness, a ribbing, but it still makes Rhett feel like he is not there, like Link wants something else. I am not saying that jealousy was the central topic in this discussion, but it was something that was bleeding in due to Rhett’s frustration and it was the primary thing that Link wanted to clear the air about.

You think I am stretching this? Let’s move forward.

Link at this point makes it clear that he welcomes Rhett’s feedback and stresses many times that “they are on the same side, that there is only one side”. This softens Rhett visibly. However, Link also points out that this conversation could have happened only between the two of them and that it would be “a little different” in private.

Link then explains how he wants to let go in social situations and he somewhat selfishly likes the feeling of having someone look out for him. Rhett describes this as “living with no filter”.

In Link’s exact words: “I think there’s so much of my life that’s like, I think so hard about it that if I can get out of my head and just get into, like, living, then it feels so good because there’s - I am just trying to explain myself. I am not defending myself. And so it helps me think there’s other things to take into account. Like, I have this desire… in a party setting where there is no stake. I feel like there’s no stakes and it’s all just about fun. And whether it’s the critic in my own head or whatever it is, there’s a lot of crunching down. So in the places where I can let loose, I find myself letting loose in a big way because it feels so good”.

So what is he talking about here? So much of his life that he has to think hard about, that it feels great to let loose, to have the illusion that there are no stakes? Is this about their job? Didn’t he previously say they have CEO brains? Is this about family? Is this about private life?

The first time Link breaks is when Rhett reminds him that he loves some people and he sometimes needs to keep that filter on for the sake of these people. While Rhett carefully keeps himself now within the context of social interactions and escalation and aggressive introduction, Link at this point is emotional so he just says:

“I just wanna jump out of the plane, you know?”

Like, WHAT are we talking about now folks? Escalation and chaotic introductions? Is that really what we are talking about??????????????

Rhett does not comment on this phrase but he does describe how Link’s chaoticness (or his desire to jump out of the plane) becomes stronger and stronger each year. He interestingly says that 10 years ago (2012 - 2013, has it been THAT long? 👀) he would never be worried about what Link would say to other people but now he is constantly concerned. The funny thing here is that if memory serves me correctly, Link was always a little strange and bold in his interactions with people. In fact, Rhett was also less skilled and stranger in the past. So, is it Link being weird what concerns Rhett or the nature of Link’s “weirdness”?

Rhett says: “There’s been good growth in a way, like “I am embracing who I am, I am being myself”.

Again, what on earth are we talking about here? “I am embracing who I am, an escalator? A stranger’s teaser?” Is this still the point of the discussion or has the main point gone off the rails?

Rhett then comments that “there is such a commitment on Link’s part for expressing himself without filter”. And he repeats there is a growth but that this growth needs to be managed. Normally, though, when something can be characterised as “growth” then it is a positive that, if anything, would need less management, not more. Link’s “growth” apparently causes problems to himself, Rhett, Christy and potentially other people as well.

Why? Link explains this immediately afterwards: “Yeah I am not jumping out of the plane alone”.

“It’s a tandem jump”, Rhett agrees.

Tandem is the bicycle for two riders. So it’s not just Link who is about to jump out of the plane. It’s Rhett too.

But they quickly correct this, saying it’s a group of people. Me thinks, wives, families, employees, right?

Rhett then says, “And if there’s one guy who’s like ‘this is what I do and I jump out of a plane, I go as fast as I possibly can’, and they’re like ‘yeah but we talked about how we were all gonna… There is a plan! We are all going to do this together!”

And then Rhett kinda rephrases it but it’s too late at this point. You do realise this has nothing to do with aggression or teasing strangers or being unpleasant in social situations anymore, right? There is a mention of a plan. This has NOTHING to do with what they were discussing before. And what they were discussing before was not Rhett’s real issue! Again, there is a plan, for a tandem fall, and essentially a group fall!!!! Nothing to do with random awkward social interactions!!!!!!! It’s literally a totally different, much more serious topic discussed simultaneously!

Then Link stresses how a lot of it is enjoying interacting with strangers (apparently as his “grown” self?) and Rhett says this is evident, not without a hint of condescension, also implying how Link could become the guy who goes to things alone and talks strangers up. This kinda flies over Link’s head.

The second time Link almost breaks down is when he makes clear that he wants to go out with Rhett and enjoy their time together. And because Link never disappoints he saves it until the last second to make this crystal clear:

“What is this inside of me that wants to come out? Like, it goes out sideways and it… it is funny sometimes but other times it’s like… you don’t wanna, you know, I don’t wanna be the guy that’s giving people that are the closest to me a shitty time because I am having the best time of my life. That sucks.”

Link breaks for the third time. And he also just did the thing Rhett was imploring him all this time to not do. It really is a lost cause.

Now while everything at this point is clear, the one confusing thing for me is how removed Rhett is from all this emotionally, like he is not in sync with how Link feels, like it is not the best time of his life, and on one hand I am pretty sure it is because Rhett doesn’t want to jump off the plane yet and if it weren’t for Link wanting it that bad, he probably never would, but on the other hand it scares my selfish Rhink heart, as if this whole situation is just a Link thing and Rhett is just the supportive friend, you know what I mean? But it cannot be, right? This theory doesn’t agree with TLCOBC and Hazel and so many other symbolic things they have done. I was just confused when Link said he’s gotten this feedback from people that love him the most, not just Rhett. I guess or hope this meant family. But even Rhett looked confused with that lol

They wrap up this episode with Link inviting the viewers to write their thoughts he bets they have and Rhett mutters “Oh they do” but… judging from the comments they still don’t lol Or I am straight out imagining things at this point. I don’t know. As you see, I only used their words. So I really don’t know if everyone is so deaf or I am so delusional.

As a last note, I would like to mention that Rhett has softened considerably by the end of the episode compared to the beginning. I should also point out how many times Rhett repeated he loves Link in this episode. He hit a personal record. Probably because it was a tough topic and he didn’t want Link to think he blames him. My favourite moment was when he said “I say this in love” instead of “I say this with love”. Heh. And Link clearly blinked or turned to him every time. Sweet.

#rhink #Rhett and link #randl #r&l #ear biscuits #long post #long text #tw long text #anon #ask #mythical

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poll-ventures · 2 years ago

Text

Perdition 1.4

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I hung up. I stared at the phone in my hand, its screen showing an old rotary telephone slamming into its receiver.

Numbly, I watched it repeat several times before it faded away into the black of the dead screen. Why had I done that?

What am I doing?

I broke into a sprint down the road, running as fast as I could to the woods.

*****

The woods of Old Hill were untouched. Serene, tranquil, and still easing itself awake from the dusty silence of early morning. I tore through the trees at a sprint, thin vines and branches tearing at my coat as I sped over the cold packed dirt and gnarled forest roots.

I was following a creek, and I was relatively sure it was the same one that Noel meant. I’d seen the maps of the land in the museums, but those had never held much truth when it came to small details like a small creek in the heavy western woods. Noel's parent's mansion had been built only a few decades ago, so I was guessing at a ghost.

I slowed as I approached a large fallen basswood tree, leaning on it as I caught my breath. I really wasn’t made for running, and my lungs screamed with the icy air pulling and pushing out of them. As I sat on the cool bark, I faced the way I’d come, and recognized it.

I’d been here before, with Noel, when she needed a break from her homework, or life in general. This was near the right spot.

“Noel!” I shouted, turning around on the tree to search for her. The quiet, yet alive chatter of the woods slowed as my voice rung out, then returned as it died.

A woodpecker stabbed a rhythm into a far away tree, and the forest all together went on uncaring. I swore under my breath, and moved my legs to straddle the cold dead tree like a horse.

The felled basswood spanned the creek, and I stared down its length as I caught my breath. Moving my gloved hand down the trunk, I found my glove was sticking to something.

It was a carved heart. The injured wood was green and fresh, sap building up and out at the edges of the cut.

The letters in the heart read N + J, then a date. 2-3-23. Very fresh. I stared at the ‘N’, brushing the older sap aside with my thick gloved digits.

Natalie.

The name still burned painfully in my heart, incorrect and shameful in the memories it wrought. One word from a well meaning stranger, one reminder of the date of the accident, that’s all it took.

February 15th, 2020. The night was alive in my mind again, without my asking. I turned my head up, to face the woods.

The woods, as many dark and cold nights on the road had taught me, could be very dangerous. Refusing to drive or even be driven after the accident, I had backpacked my way down from New York.

I’d thought the trip would be quick; Google Maps said ten days, and I thought I'd be in Old Hill in nine, maybe eight days, easy.

After the money for inns and motels had run out, I had realized that walking worked on the same kind of time that hospitals and classes right before lunch did: Slow time.

Time that stretches on until you're sunburnt and dehydrated, until you want to turn back, but that would make things even worse, and everyone back home doesn’t want you there anyway, so just keep on heading down I-81 counting the mile markers.

Slow time traps you in this until your eyes roll into the back of your skull, and you’re willing to sleep on a pile of rusty nails because at least they don’t fucking honk at you for having the gall to walk on the shoulder instead of in the gluttonous mud trench that sucks your falling-apart-shoes down its shit-coated-throat.

So, after a long day of trudging, the sun would go down, sometimes obligingly slow, sometimes slipping right out of slow time and into blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time, diving below the horizon and leaving you soaking wet, struggling with two damp sticks to make a fire.

This, however, was preferable to the perils of the interstate’s shoulder and its many bored, cloying cops and just-like-me vagrants.

If I had to choose, though, it’d be the vagrants. I’d shared a few kind fires with a number of them, sometimes learning their names and their stories, sometimes sitting in uneasy silence until we wandered off to sleep in private.

As the weeks wore on, I had been moving into a cold front, and not sleeping in front of the fire had become impossible.

More often than not, I’d made camp in a thin layer of trees that lined a highway-side property. Sometimes you’d need to hop a fence, which started out hard, but by the second week was routine.

This was technically and legally trespassing, but a camo sleeping bag and a good spot usually got you through the night without disturbance. Usually.

More than once, I’d been woken by something rummaging through my belongings, sometimes even the coat I’d been sleeping in. Sometimes it’d be curious and annoyed animals, but most times it had been people. The cops had always been the worst.

“What you’re doing is illegal,” they’d say, then look at me confused and finish either with “Sir,” or, more often, “Ma’am.” Always with disapproval in their voice and always using more force than needed.

Sometimes they’d let me move on, or I’d get a ride to their office, where they called my father, confirmed he knew where I was, then bewilderedly let me go, usually with a stern warning.

Most cops, when they understood, had offered food and drink for my trip. Some had even offered rides, which I graciously denied. Some offered neither, and just let me go.

One, the worst, had left me locked up in the little town’s singular cell for three days and three nights. It was just outside of West Virginia, right after I’d crossed the Kentucky border.

Jessup, as the nothing little two-road town was called, apparently had trouble keeping folk around. Or so I was told by Jessup’s top boozer, who said his name was Jesse. He’d already been in the cell when I was thrown in.

The officer who’d found me on the side of the road, a mean mugging ugly woman, had given Jesse her meanest mug as she walked away with a clipboard securely tucked beneath one arm.

Jesse of Jessup played harmonica, and drank like a fish. In the morning he was always set free, but at night, he was brought to the cell, what he lovingly and drunkenly called ‘Jesse’s Little Corner of Jessup’.

On my last night in his town, he’d snuck in a small bottle of Fireball, a deck of cards, and his dirty harmonica, still wet from its play in the bar. After the mean-mugger had left for the night, Jesse showed me how to play Hearts, Bullshit, Garbage, and the 'ca.

He was good, and I told him as much. In his jovial way, he corrected me: “I’m not good,” I remembered him slurring, “I’m mean. ‘Jesse,’ you should say. ‘You play a meaaaaan har-moan-i-cah,’ you should be saying.”

So I did, and he cheered. We shared no campfire, but did huddle and did dance around the rattling radiator, him blowing sharply into the ‘cah and me stomping my boots and clapping my hands.

He’d thanked me for my company, and kissed me gently on the cheek. He’d reeked of alcohol and worse, but I thanked him for his good humor, and let him sleep.

After the mean-mugger had exhausted all of her attempts to find me guilty of various crimes, she’d let me go. She had demanded I shower first, staring me down with a disappointed grandmotherly glare. So, thanks to her, I walked out of Jessup and up the highway on-ramp cleaner than I’d been in weeks.

The memory of the mean-faced officer set a worry ablaze in my stomach as I stared down the creek. Again, the stab of the woodpecker cut through the wood’s idle chatter. Why was I out here?

Why in the world had I ignored direct orders from an officer of the law, when they knew my name and phone number? It gnawed at me. I’d never done anything like this.

I finally crossed the log, and stepped off of it onto the other side of the creek. “Noel!” I shouted out again, this time more of a bark. A quick check of the woods revealed nothing but the quiet apathy that suffused the trees. Wasting my time, when she could be in danger. What the fuck am I do-

“Hands up,” a thin, scared voice said from behind me. I recognized the slight southern accent.

“Noel,” I said, half turning my head. “I-”

“I said hands up!” She was shouting now, and I turned to face her with my hands up.

Noel, almost thirteen and dressed in stained Hello Kitty pijamas, held a rifle aimed at my chest. The lever action rifle was almost comically large in her arms, and I laughed nervously, falling, then stepping backwards as she approached me slowly, gun held level against her shoulder. She was trying not to cry.

“Where is my father,” she asked in a broken voice, screwing up her face in a grimace.

“I-I don’t know, Noel, what are you doing? I came here to help you,” I blurted out, still holding my hands in the air carefully. “Please, put the gun down.”

She shook her head. “Answer me,” she said, waving it in the air. She stood on the basswood I had crossed the creek on, and faced me, searching my face for a clue.

“I don’t know,” I repeated, feeling the cold press of a tree against my back. The creek babbled quietly next to us, and I stared at her. We both stood, unmoving.

Carefully, she stared at me, then raised the gun to point at my head. “Stop fucking lying!” she barked at me. I flinched, closing my eyes.

“I’m not! The cops said you were missing, nothing about your dad! I don’t know what the hell is going on, I just want you to stop pointing that thing at me,” I said, breathing heavily.

“Bullshit,” she spat, the curse sounding foreign in her light voice. “Don’t move,” she said, and braced the rifle against her with one arm as she dug in her pocket for something. Then she threw it at me, and adjusted her grip on the gun.

Her phone landed next to me in the leaves, the screen lighting up to show a picture of Noel and her mother, smiling happily in a selfie. I looked up at her, facing the glare of the rifle’s blackened metal barrel. She stared at me, raw anger in her eyes.

“You know the passcode,” she growled. “Open it. Watch the video.” I blinked, then nodded, crouching slowly and taking my right hand down to put in the numbers. 9-2-1-2. Her birthday.

The phone opened, showing a paused recording of a computer monitor. The woodpecker stabbed his staccato into a nearby tree. I tapped on the screen, then pressed play.

The video was a recording of the security system in the house I’d lived in until yesterday, portrayed in black and white. It was a view from the top of the grand staircase, watching the front door and most of the upstairs balcony, and the time in the bottom left corner read 2:03 A.M..

Noel, holding the camera in the video, was quietly and carefully breathing, the view slowly moving with her breath. The time in security footage flipped to 2:04 A.M.. The real Noel’s breathing suddenly broke out in a gentle shaking wheeze, I wasn’t sure if she was sobbing, or laughing. “Keep watching,” she choked, seeing I was looking up at her.

Car headlights streamed through the front door’s windows, casting shadows on the wall of the balcony floor. The balustrade’s shadows fled quickly across the wall, then slowly melted away as the headlights died. A moment passed, and then the door opened. Noel’s father walked in.

Kyle Montgomery was a tall man, ambiguously young but mature and well kept. Grey was seeping in at the top of his scalp, peppering his blond, jaw length hair. Carefully hanging his keys on a hook near the door, he stared at himself in the full length mirror next to the door, straightening out his thin mustache and checking his jawline.

He mussed up his hair, then turned his head back and forth to check if it was correctly incorrect. Nodding in approval, he shrugged off his heavy business coat, and let it drop to the floor as he walked up the stairs. He shed his suit and loosened his tie, leaving him with just a tailored pinstripe button up tucked into perfect black slacks.

As he rose to the top of the stairs, he stopped and carefully undid the highest button of his shirt, the tie hanging loosely about his chest like an ascot.

Then, he paused, staring down at the mess of his coat on the ground, the stairs, then the hall the opposite way, where his wife and child were asleep. He looked small in the video, and suddenly very tired. Still facing his bedroom, he raised his hand gently to his mouth, and bit down softly on it.

He turned to face my bedroom, biting down on his own flesh hard enough to draw a bead of blood. He walked to my door, then knocked on it, drawing his wounded hand to his side, near his hip. He looked as if he were going to draw a sword, though nothing was there, just his right hand hovering a few inches away from his left hip.

The door opened, and I was standing in the crack. I was dressed in pijamas, and looked at him confused. He said something, the recording silent. In the past, I nodded, widening the door.

My brain felt like it was dropped in a bath of ice water, pure confusion washing over me. “What the fuck?” I said aloud, watching myself open the door further, letting him step in. I walked away, disappearing into the room as he slipped through the doorway, then closed it.

I stared at my door in the video, nauseated. “Noel,” I said, staring up at her from the floor of the forest. “I don’t remember this.” My voice was cracking, confusion and fear seeping into my words from my core.

“Bullshit,” she croaked. She readjusted the grip on the rifle. “I’ve literally seen you do it. I watched you open that door for him! I don’t know what you’re doing in there, but it’s got to be why he’s gone. Where is he?”

“Noel,” I pleaded, “That’s not me. There’s no way, I’m not lying. I wouldn’t do that to you, or your mom,” I said. “Beli-”

“I don’t believe you,” she shouted, almost sobbing now. “You’re a liar. You stole my dad, or killed him, or something, ‘cause you knew it wasn’t right. Almost every night at two A.M., since you got here. Look!” She gestured towards her phone with the rifle.

I looked down carefully, cringing away from the gun as it came back up to point at me. Noel in the video was shaking, watching as her father left my room, five minutes after he had entered it.

He looked the same as when he’d entered, save for the blood and bite mark on his hand. They were gone. He walked calmly down the stairs, grabbed his coat, and left the house. The car’s headlights cast the familliar shadows in reverse.

The camera spun, and the mouse on the desktop shakily moved to a new folder, reading 2/13/23. Two days ago. The mouse maneuvered to the video file labeled 200, the second file in the folder, and opened it.

Almost on the dot at 2:03 A.M., Mr. Montgomery stepped into the foyer, shrugged his coat onto the floor, then climbed the stairs.

This time, he didn’t pause on the way to my door to bite his hand, stopping only to knock, clearly hover his hand over his empty hip, then enter my room.

I hadn’t even looked up at him. I’d just let him in.

“What the fuck,” I whispered hoarsely.

The mouse skimmed the video to five minutes later, when Kyle exited punctually, closing the door after him carefully, then taking the stairs two at a time to leave the mansion.

The video then clicked through random nights at two A.M., watching the same process occur many times over, sped up.

Sometimes he bit his hand, sometimes he just knocked. Always, his hand reached for the empty space at his left hip. I watched, silently, until the video ended suddenly in the middle of a night.

Noel had been staring at me the entire time, burning with silent rage. “Just tell me.”

I took a deep breath, and sat on the cold, packed dirt. “I don’t know, Noel. That’s not me. There’s no way…”

I wasn’t one to repress memories. My worst traumatic memories, I could remember in painful detail, burned into the fabric of my being. It could be an actor, but no, I’d been there at two A.M., almost every weeknight for a year. I could very distinctly remember my nights, they were usually taken up with studying and listening to music.

A coldly horrible idea formed in my head. He could have been drugging me to make me forget. Something in a drink, or something in food. He hadn’t been carrying anything in with him…

But it could’ve been in his pocket. I writhed in disgust, and I drew my knees up to my chest, feeling my breath hitch inside me as I stared emptily at the phone.

“What the fuck was he doing to me,” I said, hollow, not really there, not really meaning to. What had he done to me? Why couldn’t I remember? If he was drugging me inside of my room, how had I let him in? Would I let that man in my room if he knocked? No. Definitely no. “What the fuck,” I whispered, rocking slightly.

“Parker?” Noel asked softly.

“No,” I stated, almost to myself. “It’s a fake, a fake video or a fake set that he made to set me up. It’s just an actor, just…” Noel was staring at me, shaking her head.

“What do you mean?” She asked, lowering the rifle a little, stepping towards me.

“He was never home, he could’ve been, I don’t know, setting this up? There’s no way I’d let him into my room. I don’t even like your father as a person, let alone,” I stopped, feeling bile rise in my chest. “No. This isn’t real.” I stated firmly, and felt like I was coming back to myself, at least a little.

“No, Parker,” she said, stepping back again and raising the rifle. “I watched you do it. After I recorded this, I stayed up to watch you. He knocked, you let him in.”

“No,” I pleaded.

“Please, don’t lie,” Noel whispered.

“Stop calling me a fucking liar! I don’t remember any of this!” I was shouting now, on my knees in front of her.

"Just tell me the truth!" She cried, matching my intensity.

"I am!" I screamed I picked up the phone, throwing it back to her harder than I needed to. She staggered backward, shocked.

"Liar." Noel almost growled the word, dripping with resentment.

She bent to pick up her phone, momentarily hugging the rifle against her chest, hand still on the trigger guard. It was pointed at me. My eyes darted up to Noel's. She wasn’t looking at me.

What do you do?

< >

#Perdition 1.4 #Perdition #tw deadnaming #tw gun mention #tw implied abuse #tw offscreen abuse #tw cops #interactive game #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive writing #choose your own adventure #cyoa #poll #polls #adventure prep #tw alcohol #tw unsanitary #tw gaslighting

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