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#and the amount of media that shoves the its okay to not fit in (if ur white skinny and all that)

sketching-shark · 3 years

Note

I think we should start a protection squad (although they don’t need it because they can protect themselves) for Sun Wukong and Guanyin

“Begone monkie kid fandom trying to down grade these really interesting characters with interesting personality’s and backstory ( the both of them like seriously Guanyin backstory is so cool) to a villain wile trying to justify your angsty backstory (that are no where near as cool as monkey who fights gods and Person who has 1000 arms and heads to help people in need) for the actual villain”

So who wants to join

Me:*raises my hand*

Ps: sorry if I got Guanyin backstory wrong am not an expert on it.

Haha okay so some critiques on the jttw & associated media western fandom & fandom in general coming up, so please skip this upcoming text wall if you don't want to encounter my undoubtedly ~devastating~ words (i.e. don't like don't read as people love to say, & if I have to be inundated with images of my notp every time I go into the sun wukong tag then I imagine people can be chill with me expressing my opinions & giving people fair warning that I WILL be critiquing common fandom trends, but no need for you to see that if you don’t want to. Cool? Cool.)

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PFFFFFTTT oh man there are many times when I feel like signing up for such a protection squad...when it comes to the current western jttw & Sun Wukong fandom I do feel like I'm often swinging at a rapid pace between "well it's fandom & people are allowed to make the stories they want" & "I am once again begging my fellow monkie kid enthusiasts (& sometimes creators) to do more research into the og classic/show it more respect so you can avoid any potentially offensive/off-the-mark misunderstandings of the status & cultural context of the characters in their country of origin (I promise it's super interesting & I can provide you with links to free pdf copies of the entire Yu translation, i.e. the best one ever created, so feel free to ask!) & maybe also stop constantly stripping away all the nuance of Sun Wukong's character for the sake of either making him an entire asshole so your little meow meow can look completely innocent in comparison and/or making the monkey king's entire life & character revolve around said meow meow."

Like I get that fandom's supposed to be a kind of anything-goes environment, but one thing that honestly seems to be true of a lot of fandoms--and the western one for Sun Wukong & co. is certainly not immune from this--is that there often seems to be a kind of monoculturalization at work in what stories are created & what character interpretations are made popular. Across a multitude of fandoms, you frequently see basically nothing but the exact same tropes being made popular & even being insisted on for the canonical work (especially hasty redemption arcs & enemies to lovers these days), the exact same one-dimensional character types that characters from an original work keep getting shoved into, the exact same story beats, etc. And I get it to an extent, as fandom is generally a space where people just make art and fic for fun & without thinking too hard about it & without any pressure.

This seems to, however, often unfortunately lead to the mentality that it’s your god-given right to do literally whatever you want with literally any cultural figure without even the slightest bit of thought put into their cultural, historical, and even religious context, even (and sometimes especially) when it comes to figures that are really important in a culture outside your own. For such figures--even if you first encounter them in a children’s cartoon--you should be a little more careful with what you do with them than you would with your usual Saturday morning line-up. It of course has to be acknowledged that there exists a whole pile of absolutely ridiculous & cursed pieces of media that are based on Journey to the West & that were produced in mainland China, but for your own education if nothing else I consider it good practice for those of us (myself certainly included) who aren’t part of the culture that produced JTTW to put more thought into how we might want to portray these characters so that at the very least (to pull some things I’ve seen from the jttw western fandom) we’re not turning a goddess of mercy into an evil figure for the sake of Angst(TM), or relegating other important literary figures into the positions of offensive stereotypes, or making broad claims about the source text & original characterizations of various figures that are blatantly untrue, or mocking heavenly deities because of what’s actually your misunderstanding of how immortality works according to Daoist beliefs. Yet while a lot of this is often due to people not even trying to understand the context these figures are coming from, I do want to acknowledge that the journey (lol reference) to understand even a fraction of the original cultural context can be a daunting one, especially since, as I’ve mentioned before, it can be really hard & even next to impossible to find good, accessible, & legitimate explanations in English of how, for example, the relationship between Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China & according to the Buddhist beliefs that define the original work.

That is to say, I do think it’s an unfortunate, if unavoidable, part of any introduction of an original text into a culture foreign to its own for there to be sometimes a significant amount of misinterpretation, mistranslations, and false assumptions. There is, however, a big difference between learning from your honest mistakes, & doubling down on them while dismissing all criticism of your misinterpretation into that abstract category of “fandom drama.” The latter attitude is kind of shitty at best and horrifically entitled at worst.

Plus, as I’ve discovered, there is a great deal of interest and joy to be drawn from keeping yourself open to learning aspects of these texts & figures that you weren’t aware of! I can say from my own experience that I’ve always really enjoyed & appreciated it when individuals on this site who come from a Chinese background--and who know much more about the cultural context of JTTW than me--have taken the time to explain its various aspects. It often leaves me feeling like woooooaaaahhhhhHHH!!!! as to how amazingly full of nuanced meaning JTTW is like dang no wonder it’s one of China’s Four Great Classical Novels.

And I guess that right there is the heart of a lot of my own personal frustration and disappointment with the ways that fandoms often approach a literary work or other piece of media...like don’t get me wrong, a lot of the original works a fandom may grow around are just straight-up goofy & everyone’s aware of it & has fun with it, yet the trend of approaching what are often nuanced and multi-layered works in terms of how well they fit and/or can be shoved into pretty cliche ideas of Redemption Arc or Enemies to Lovers or Hero Actually Bad, Villain Actually Good etc...well, it just seems to cheapen and even erase even the possibility of understanding the wonderful complexity or even endearing simplicity that made these works so beloved in the first place. Again, I feel like I need to make it clear that I’m not saying fandom should be a space where people are constantly trying to one-up each other with their hot takes in literary analysis, but it would be nice and even beneficial to allow room for commentary that strives to approach these works in a multi-faceted way, analysis & interpretations that go against the popular fandom beliefs, & criticism of the work or even of fandom trends (yes it is in fact possible to legitimately love something but still be critical of its aspects) instead of immediately attacking people who try to engage in such as just being haters who don’t want anyone to have fun ever (X_X).

----

Anyway, I know I didn’t cover even half of the stuff you brought up in the first place anon, but I don’t want any interested parties to this post to suffer too long through my text wall lol. I was asked to try my hand at illustrating Guanyin, but as with you I’m nowhere near as informed as I should be about her, so I want to do more research on her history and religious importance before I attempt a portrait. I’ll try my best, and do plan to pair that illustration with my own outsider’s attempt to summarize her character. From what little I do know I am in full agreement that her backstory is so incredibly amazing...just the fact that she literally eschewed the bliss of Nirvana to help all beings reach it, and even split herself into pieces in the attempt to do so (with Buddha granting her eleven heads and a thousand arms as a result)...man, I can see why she’s such a beloved & respected deity.

----

As for what western fandom commonly does with everyone’s favorite god-fighting primate...I can talk about this at length if there’s interest, but for this post I’ll just say that I guess one lesson from all of this is that for all the centuries that have passed since Journey to the West was first completed, literally no one drawing inspiration from the original tale in the west (lol) has come even slightly close to being able to equal or even capture half the extent of the nuance, complexity, religious, historical, and cultural aspects, and humor that define Wu Cheng'en's story of an overpowered monkey who defied even Buddha.

So thank the heavens we'll always have the original.

#journey to the west #jttw #guanyin #sun wukong #monkey king #monkie kid #fandom #fandom critical

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literally-just-loki · 3 years

Text

This is going to be a long and negative post about the Loki series, so please move on from this post if that's not your thing.

I am just. So tired of this all. I'm tired of having my identity erased. I'm tired of having media dumbed down until it's in easily-processable bite sized pieces "fit for the masses." I'm tired of Marvel removing all of their depth.

For starters, we get one tiny throwaway line showing Loki's bi-ness. That's great. Immediately it's undermined by trying to shove him together with Sylvie romantically. Now, I am not at all saying being in a straight-presenting relationship makes you any less bi. However, Marvel is going to use that one line as an excuse never to do anything else. Of course, Loki flirting with a guy on screen wouldn't be "family friendly." Loki being with a male love interest wouldn't be "family friendly." Because Disney has such a history of queerbaiting and prejudice, this can't be looked at in the same lense as a company with lesser amounts of that.

Similarly with gender. I was so excited to see Sylvie being female. I thought it would be a gateway to Loki being genderfluid, or at least give us some tiny hint of gender exploration. Instead, what do we get? Ah, yup, she was born female instead and also that means you're in love with her now.

And then with the show itself. Before I say this, know that I am fine with seeing Loki's chaotic side. I'm okay with having a more "fun Loki" and less of an "angsty Loki." It's not what I'd prefer, but I can still respect the decision.

What I can't respect is the show consistently removing or undermining all of its depth. The plotline today especially felt so ridiculously shallow in places. I'm really tired right now and I can't remember specifics (I might elaborate later), but the entire thing just felt like it was being manufactured for ease of consumption only, ridding us of having to do any critical thinking at all.

I by no means am begrudging you of your right to like the show. If you enjoy this, that's perfectly valid. This post just isn't for you. Right now I'm just feeling so angry, and depressed, and hopeless. Because it really seems like things just don't get better.

#honestly I'm considering taking a break from fandom #it's so taxing right now #and a lot has happened this week #personally as well I'm dealing with some stuff #I'm just so tired #loki #loki series #loki series spoilers #loki series negativity #selfcest tw #incest tw

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simpsiren · 3 years

Text

sticky notes: the story

mark lee x reader

introduction

main masterlist

description. you use sticky notes to get into contact with your soulmate.

genre. soulmate au, high school au, strangers to lovers au

warnings. nonee

a/n. so some people requested for a full story of this so here it is! i really liked making this because the concept is just so cute cudndn oh and i did include the same idea as what i did in my previous post but i had to change it a little so that it would fit the plot. this is a really really long ff since its a slow burn typa thing so please try to stick with me on this one HAHA anyways enjoyy! :D

“you actually believe that?”

you lift your head up from your notes to look at soyoung. she nods her head and hum eagerly. you rub your temples from seeing her respond. “i do believe soulmates exist. but sticky notes to talk to them? what’s social media for then? and how is it even scientifically possible?” you question soyoung, bringing your eyes down as you continue to do your homework.

“that’s the beauty of soulmates, ray!” soyoung whines. you shake your head. “you’re dumb to believe it without confirming the information with other relevant sources.” you mutter out bluntly. you hear soyoung letting out a ‘tsk’. “here you go again being a history student. i swear im glad i never took it.” you scoff and slam your pen on the table gently.

“excuse me, woman! at least i dont have to memorise the whole textbook and only having 5 pages of content coming out in the exam.” you stick your tongue out playfully to tease soyoung. “i cant get over the fact that valcanos didn’t come out eventhough i memorised so much for it.”

the both of you laugh, knowing that the two of you can never stop debating on whether history or geography is the better subject.

“ray complete your homework at home. we cant stay in the classroom for long you know?” soyoung stands up to get to her seat, which is 2 rows down yours since you were sitting right at the back. you liked sitting at the back. it allowed you to always be able to use your phone in case you get bored in class. you still cant believe that your teachers think you’re a good and obedient student. you figured they only assumed that due to your high grades.

you sigh “that’s true.” you turn around to grab your back that was hanging in your chair and start packing your materials. once you were done, you grab the class key and walk over to soyoung’s seat, waiting for her to finish packing. you notice soyoung has finish packing and went to switch off the lights. you allow soyoung to step out first before you close the door behind you and lock the classroom door.

you and soyoung walked down the hallway silently, you were looking out the window to watch the sunset while soyoung had her eyes on her feet. only your footsteps could be heard as almost everyone has left the school grounds except for some teachers who were working late. the school normally closes at 7pm and you’re walking out at 6:50. to break the silence, soyoung opens her mouth to start a conversation.

“okay if you dont believe me why dont you try it yourself? like write a simple introduction to your soulmate.” you raise an eyebrow as you shove your hands into the front pockets of your mom jeans. “why dont you do it?” you fought back as you huff. soyoung bites the inside of her cheek as a moment of silence passes for her to think of an answer.

“because i believe it. and you do not. so you should try it.” you smacked soyoung’s arm, making her flinch back and shouting a loud ‘ouch’. you roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t hit her hard and she was just overreacting. “brilliant excuse,so. but if its going to make you stop talking about it, i might as well.” soyoung face lit up as she jumps happily and starts skipping ahead of you. you laugh and pull the handle at back of her bag to keep her explosion of excitement to the minimum.

“you owe me brown sugar milk tea. large.” you taunted. soyoung waves her hand lazily. “i’ll buy you one after school tomorrow. but you better update me during math.”

you wanted to say how you could just text soyoung to update her, but you remembered the fact that soyoung’s mother took away her phone since she didn’t do well for this year’s midterms. although to you, soyoung’s grades were decent. unfortunately for her, soyoung has to live up to her asian mom’s high expectations. the thought of this made you want to frown, but you showed a bright smile regardless as the two of you finally made it to the school gate, waving to each other and bidding farewell before walking down opposite paths.

once you arrived at home, you took out your phone from your back pocket. you saw a notification from your mother saying that your parents would be home late. you shrug your shoulders as you walk to your room. “as always.” you breathed out.

you did your normal routine of showering and eating leftover dinner that you needed to heat up at the couch while you completed one episode of the anime series you were so hooked on. you continue watching but with the amount of homework you have, you might finish them all by midnight if you dont slack.

you turned off the tv and washed your plate before heading into your room. as you close the door behind you, your eyes immediately went to your desk, which was pretty messed up since you had a test to study for yesterday that you completely weren’t prepared for and had to squeeze in as much information as you can. hence, the scattering of notes and textbooks.

you stroll over to your desk and sat down. you take out your homework from your back which was beside the desk. looking at the stack of homework, you groan in despair as shove it to the back of the desk till it hit the wall. “ah fuck it! im just going to ask kun for help.” you admitted your defeat depsite thinking you would be able to gain some energy from your dinner. you also thought about how you’ve done your homework in the morning plenty of time so i shouldnt be a problem unless kun doesn’t offer his help.

you jump to your bed and lay down, bringing your phone out and immediately start scrolling through instagram. as you swiped your finger up to look at the posts of the people you follow, you stop at one. a picture of a couple who met through the sticky note theory. or so they claim. your thumbs hover over the screen as your eyes look up to the ceiling, starting to remember what soyoung asked to do to get your bubble tea.

yoy tap your index finger on the side of your phone as you constantly started to think whether you should do it or not. you’ve heard the rumours. but are they even true? the more you thought about it, the more intriguing the idea got. but at the same time, you also thought of how stupid it sounded and was probably made to fool people.

after contemplating and having in a debate in your head that felt like forever, you finally place your phone down beside you and take a deep breath. “ill do it.” you groan to yourself, letting curiosity take over your other feelings.

you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed and walk over to your desk. you push all the papers and textbooks aside, grabbing a yellow sticky notepad from your stationery organiser. you had other colours too like pink and purple, but you figured that you should go with the classic.

pulling out a random pen that was laying in between the pages of one of your textbooks, you tilt your head to the side as you start thinking of what to write, unconsciously biting the end of your pen in the process.

you bite the side of your cheek and shrug, deciding to go with the plan of writing whatever that comes to your mind.

um hi? i dont even know if you’re going to see this. its funny, really. i heard a rumour that you can communicate with your soulmate through sticky notes. it’s probably just fake news and im writing to a nobody. that would honestly be embarrassing but it’ll be like love letters.. to myself(?) or my soulmate. write back? haha

you read over what you wrote an endless amount of times, thinking if you should make changes. you groan and immediately stick the sticky note onto your wall, giving up on giving second thoughts about what you call this ridiculousness.

you went about your night, forgetting you have left the sticky note on the wall. as you were on you bed scrolling through tumblr at 2 in the morning, you hear something. it sounded like a piece of paper had fallen from your desk.

unable to see in complete darkness, you turn on the flashlight from your phone and walk around your room, trying to find whatever it is that fell. it didn’t take you long to find a small yellow sticky note that you accidentally stepped on.

you pick it up, remembering that you wrote on the sticky note and thought that it was yours. however, once you were able to get a closer look, you noticed that the words on the sticky note have changed. so has the handwriting.

holy shit. i dont know what is this. but apparently a sticky note appeared on my wall saying i have a soulmate. my friends told me i should write back because of some rumour. so here i am trying. hi im mark. i dont know your name, but hope you’ll tell me once you recieve this. you’re in luck because apparently the rumour is true. im just as crepped out as you are.

you froze in your spot. your fingers shaking as you read the note again. you scratch your head. being too tired and unable to think straight at 2 in the morning, you place the sticky note on your desk and went back to bed to play with your phone. you soon forget about the fact that your soulmate has replied to your message that you have written on your sticky note.

as you got ready for the next period which was math, soyoung immediately runs over to you, dragging the chair from the desk beside you and taking a seat. you flinch a little when you suddenly see her close to you.

“so did you try it?!” soyoung asks, her voice filled with enthusiasm . you brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you take out your textbook from under the desk. “did you get a reply then?”

your mind started to take you back to the mysterious encounter that you had last night. “mhm.” you reply simply. “though the only thing i remember because it seems to be the only relevant information is that the person’s name is mark.” soyoung gasped loudly, making you crease your forehead as you watch her overreacting again.

“your soulmate’s name is mark then.” soyoung concludes, folding her arms confidently as if she made a great discovery. you laugh, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “isnt it obvious?” soyoung frowns fakely.

your mouth gapes open as you hit soyoung’s arm lightly. “buy me my milk tea!” you demanded with a wide smile. soyoung places her notebook on your table and nods constantly. “i will you addict.” she groans. you happily say thank you as your teacher comes into the classroom and class began.

“what are you going to do about it now though?” as you recieved the question from soyoung, you kept silent for a moment, giving time to think of an answer.

“ill write something back? i dont know.. ill have to read the letter again when i get back home.” you whispe to soyoung. she nods in reply as the two of you payed your attention to the front again. it surprised you that soyoung was paying attention but you only assumed that she wanted to do better in class and shrug your shouders, writing down the notes youve missed while talking to soyoung.

as for you, your concentration in class dipped slightly because now, the thing that is occupying your head the most is the thought that the sticky notes theory might actually be real and you cant say its not possible anymore, making you even more shocked than you did last night.

lucky for you, today is the only day of the week where your class ends the earliest, along with two other lower ranked classes. you and soyoung quickly pack up to go to the mall to get your reward. after soyoung buys you your drink, you and soyoung went your separate ways.

after about 30 minutes of taking the bus and walking, you finally arrived at home. you place your drink on the living room table and proceed to place your bag in the room and head for the showers.

once you were done showering, you walk out of the bathroom to head to your room while drying your hair with a small towel. opening the door, you enter and went straight to your clothing rack. just when you were about to grab a shirt from the hanger, you heard the same noise last night. another piece of paper has fallen on the floor.

you turn your head and look down. this time, you found another sticky note right in front of your feet. the colour of the sticky note changed from yellow to a light blue. you tilt your head as you pick up the stick note from the floor, finding it odd as you wonder how the colour of the sticky note changed.

you take a deep breath before reading it, noticing that the handwriting was similar to the one you read last night. a little messier, but still readable.

hi again.. im not sure if you’ll recieve this since its the afternoon and i know people are busy with work or school. i skipped school today so haha. um i just wanted to write to you, despite me not knowing a single thing about you. its odd really. its like i feel the need to write something to an unknown identity that people assume to be my soulmate. i still dont know your name, so i hope youll reply soon. take your time and take care :)

- mark

“skip school? what is he, a bad boy?” you scoff to yourself. you try to take in whatever’s on the note, but another thought comes to mind. you walk over to your desk and saw that the yellow sticky note with mark’s reply was still there. you find everything about this weird and just odd in general. a lot of questions sprouted, but you didn’t want to think of it since you were afraid you would complicate your thoughts and just throw yourself into a stress hole.

you continue to dry your hair with one hand while the other held onto the light blue sticky note. you bit your lip and gulp. after letting out a long sigh, you place the sticky note next to the other one and changed into your clothes, as well as bringing your drink from the living room table to your room, placing it on the desk as you sat down.

you take out your pencilcase from your bag and brought out your fresh new black pen that you just bought at the school’s stationery store. the previous pen you had was full of ink till soyoung was dumb enough to drop it, spoiling the pen and was unable to be used again.

peeling off another yellow stick note from the stack at the edge of your desk, you were about to put your pen on paper when you realise you dont even know what to write. what do you say to this person you barely know about? you continuously tap the edge of the pen against your desk as you take a sip of your drink. you look over to the two sticky notes with the messages that the person has left. its funny how you have to think so hard just to write a short message.

hey again. i actually ended school early today. my name’s raven. but my friends call me ray. i honestly don’t know what to say to you. im still dumbfounded over the fact that you’re my soulmate and we’re here communicating over sticky notes. the world really does work in a strange way. if you dont mind, i guess i want to know how old you are and you’re education status?

you held out the sticky note in front of you and sigh in satisfaction. why? it’s because of your neat handwriting. it was always a trait of yours that you deeply appreciate. you place the sticky note on the wall and advert your attention to the other sticky notes, placing them on the wall beside the new one you have just written.

“will this drive me insane? i might end up with a whole wall of this.” you say to yourself, rubbing your face with your palm before going to your bed and laying down, wanting to have your evening nap.

“this is awesome!”

“no its scary.”

mark and his group of friends stared at the sticky note that has a message written with beautiful handwriting. mark flinched when he felt an arm on his shoulder, turning around to notice it was chenle’s. “when did you write your previous sticky note?” renjun suddenly asked. mark tilts his head as he tried to find an answer.

“less than an hour before you guys came i guess?” mark shrugs, standing up from his desk and taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside jaemin and haechan. “this raven girl is your soulmate then.” chenle walks towards mark and stands in front of him. mark nods slowly. the room grew silent again with everyone having the similar thoughts.

“you know what would be funny?” haechan smacks mark’s thigh, the sound making everyone turn their attention to mark and haechan. “what?” mark asked with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“why dont we prank her and say you’re a sugar daddy and live in a mansion?!” everyone gave yuta weird looks, making haechan laugh hysterically. “are you crazy? do you think i want to chase my soulmate away?” mark scolded haechan, smacking him hard on the chest, resulting in haechan’s back falling onto the bed.

“you’re always asking for a beating i swear.” renjun comments, walking towards haechan and balling his hand into a fist and acting as if he was about to attack. jaemin laughs to try and calm them down. “kids let’s not fight.” jaemin announced, looking over to jeno only to find him standing there watching quietly.

“go ahead, mark. you should write something. we cant keep her waiting.” jeno finally spoke up, grabbing the sticky notepad and a random pen from mark’s table and passing it over to him.

mark stared at the blank paper while the others were talking about what to have for dinner. it didn’t take him long to decide what to write. when mark starts writing and began to be in full concentration, everyone crowds around him to see what he’s writing.

sup raven! i wont call you ray since we aren’t friends yet. im still shocked. like the possibility of things like this being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen. but anyways, to answer you question, im a high schooler from dream high. im in my third year. its kind of awkward for me while im writing this since my friends are reading every word im taking down. i guess i should ask you the same question back then. hope to hear from you soon.

“will you guys stop being nosy?” mark groans, standing up and pasting the sticky note on his wall, along with the other sticky notes he received from you. “you didn’t have to say that we’re here.” haechan retorts. mark rolls his eyes. “jesus..” mark mutters under his breathe. “anyways, yall are paying for dinner since you guys bribed me to write back.” mark sticks his tongue out playfully and runs out to the living room. everyone follows suit.. except for jeno.

jeno slowly walks towards the wall and leans forward to get a closer look of the sticky notes, specifically the two others beside the new one that mark just wrote. “raven? why does that sound so familiar? the handwriting...” jeno brings his finger up and lightly hovers them over the uniquely written words. it looked like calligraphy, and retro looking. jeno felt as though he had seen it before somewhere, or knew someone who wrote like that.

jeno snapped out of his deep thoughts when jaemin called out to him, making him walk towards the door and glancing at the sticky notes once more before joining the others in the living room.

you were currently video calling your friends when you heard the crackling of a piece of paper. of course you knew what that meant. you peered down the the floor from your bed and reached your hand out to pick up the sticky note. “ray?” doyoung called out to you when he noticed your face wasnt on screen. you lay back down on the floor and brought your phone up to show your face.

“what was that sound earlier?” lucas asked, currently sounding hyper. “the mysterious mark sent me another sticky note.” you reply sarcastically, waving the sticky note to the camera to let everyone look at it. everyone nodded their heads at the some time, some letting out a long ‘ah’ as well. “read it out loud!” yuta shouted.

“the fuck no!” you shouted back. you stared at the sticky note, but didn’t bother to read it. you thought of doing that once you’re done video calling them.

“how was today for you guys?” you asked, wanting to know how they’re doing.

“its tiring! we had dance practice, then we have to do recordings for our new albums. we barely get any sleep.” ten whines, his tone filled with stress. you laugh loudly. it made everyone frown and pout. you sigh. “pursuing your NCT world domination is never easy.” you commented, highlighting the word ‘world domination’ with a change of tone.

everyone lets out a long sigh and started to complain one by one, making the whole video call chaotic for almost 10 minutes. you could only smile and shake your head.

after about an hour or so of talking about basically everything and catching up with each other, everyone decided that they should end the call here since it was beginning to get dark and they needed to start practice soon. you bid your goodbye to them once more and ended the call.

you now adverted your attention to the sticky note. reading the letter, you raise both eyebrows. “dream high? that’s not far from here..” you mumbled to yourself. you started to think about everything you know about dream high. you know it’s was about an hour’s journey from where you live. it wasnt really well known either. the overall vibe of the school was mediocre.

however, you felt like you were missing something. something about that school is somehow related to you. you just couldn’t think of an answer despite squeezing all thoughts that you have in your brain. you groan and stood up from your bed and to your desk, proceeding to wanting to write a reply to mark.

hey. sorry if you get this quite late. i was busy video calling my friends. to answer your question, im a third year as well from jookin high. i would ask for your number so we dont have to do this all the time but my friend would scold me saying “but you’re removing the fun out of it.” but anyways, mark aka my soulmate, tell me about yourself, to start off.

you stick the note onto the wall, looking at the row of messages you’ve had recieved so far. you found it weird how the first time you’ve sent the note and got a reply back, it was on the same sticky note, just different handwriting. but you had to write on a new sticky note to send a new message only to get the same sticky note with a different message in return.

you only see his answers lined up on your wall. you started to wonder how this mark guy looked like. is he good looking? what are his hobbies? his attitude towards school? you really wished you could just text him through instagram and not have to go through all this trouble. but that option would earn you a large smack on the back by soyoung and your really didn’t want that.

“do we really need to be here now? like now?!”soyoung whined, while pushing the cart and following behind you while you tossed some packets of frozen bacon. you stopped walking and turn around, nodding your head intensely. soyoung groans and took out her phone, proceeding to use it while still pushing the cart.

you walk around the supermarket, trying to find the ingredients listed on your notes in your phone. it was the weekends and you’re parents were going to be away for a business trip for a week so you thought of inviting soyoung over and making home cooked meals as a bonding session for you two.

after about 30 minutes of gathering the ingredients and having soyoung constantly screaming and fangirling over tiktok edits of jaehyun from NCT. one note: she has yet to know that you know them and that they’re your friends. you figured that it would be best to not let anyone know so as to avoid any situation that would put your friends in a tight spot, since well they’re idols, you were looking for one last item that you had trouble finding.

“soyoung help me! stop watching tiktoks!” you groan, snatching soyoung’s phone away and shoving it in her back pocket. soyoung rolls her eyes lazily and the two of you proceeded to scan the different isles and shelves, looking over every item.

while you were too concentrated looking at the bottom shelves, you felt that you have bumped into someone. you squat down, letting out a soft ‘ouch’ before standing up and looking to see who you bumped into.

“wait. jaemin?” you furrow your eyebrows as you tilt your head, pointing your finger at the guy in front of you. “raven!” you noticed that it was jaemin after all, and both your faces lit up and the same time, grinning widely at each other.

“uhhh..” soyoung says out loud, you and jaemin turn your heads to face soyoung who was behind you. “oh! this is jaemin. we used to be neighbourhood friends before he moved out 4 years ago.” you introduced jaemin to soyoung. jaemin nodded and gave her a bright smile. soyoung only shrugged her shoulders and took out her phone. you turn your attention back to jaemin.

“why are you even here? dont you live quite far?” you ask, your fingers interlocked behind your back. jaemin nods, running a hand through his hair.

“well yes. but we came here to find something that only this supermarket sells.” jaemin replied back, his warm smile never leaving his lips. you smile, reached your hand out to ruffle his hair, laughing softly afterwards. “we? who’re you with?” you stared at jaemin with eyes of suspicion. jaemin started pinching your cheeks, making you whine and begging him to let go.

“with my friend, ray chill. im still single.” jaemin pulled away and folded his arms, pouting. “im sure you’ll find one soon.” you reached out to ruffle his hair and give off a wide smile.

while you and jaemin were catching up and being in your own world, soyoung got too bored of watching the two of you and decided to walk around the supermarket, leaving the cart behind you.

just as she was looking at the drinks isle to get her favourite sweet drink, she sees someone picking up a bunch of bottles one by one and placing them back on the shelve. out of kindness, she decided to help, picking up a bottle and placing it on fhe shelve before looking up to face the guy, who had a straight face while looking at her.

“i was just trying to help. im soyoung.” soyoung smiled, reaching her hand out and waiting for thr guy to greet back. he looked at her but doesn’t respond, proceeding to pick up the last bottle that was seen on the floor. “im jeno.” jeno stands up and nods his head to greet soyoung. soyoung nods back, walking down the isle to grab her drink from the shelve. “have a nice day.” soyoung says before leaving the isle and disappearing out of jeno’s sight. he only shrugged in response and went to do his own thing.

“you met who?!” haechan asks as he takes a sip of his ice cold water. everyone had their heads turned to jaemin, who raised an eyebrow at everyone’s weird expression. “i met my old friend raven. what’s so shocking?” jaemin asks back casually, picking up a few pieces of fries and dipping it into the sauce before shoving it in his mouth.

“dude that’s the name of mark’s soulmate!” haechan screams, making everyone flinch due to the loud noise. “i highly doubt it. there’s plenty of girls in the world with the name raven.” jaemin protests with his mouth full and chugging down gulps of coca cola.

“i mean that’s true. jeno you were with jaemin, right? dont you suspect anything?” renjun starts to question jeno, who was silently playing with his phone. looking up at the others, he gulps.

“i didn’t know he met his friend. i was picking out drinks. i just met a girl named soyoung.” jeno shrugs, taking a bite of his burger. mark scratches the back of his head, now starting to think of the fact that jaemin might have met his soulmate. though he also thought about how that could not be totally possible.

“nah i dont think its her. like really ‘raven’ could be anyone.” mark says, siding with jaemin. haechan tilts his head in awe. “jaemin do you know what school she’s going to?” jaemin only shakes his head.

“i lost all contact with her when i left her neighbourhood. plus we were young. i barely knew her honestly.” the living room falls silent, everyone trying to think of a conclusion to this.

chenle groans, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the table, gathering everyone’s attention as their heads shot up. “instead of pondering as if yall are solving some crime, why dont mark just ask her through the sticky note god dammit?” chenle pinches the bridge of his nose.

everyone’s mouths gape open as the room was suddenly filled with ‘ah’s all over. chenle shakes his head. everyone was now looking intensively at mark. mark furrows his eyebrows. “okay guys hold up ill grab the stick note.” mark stands up and takes one bite of his burger before going into his room for awhile and coming out with a sticky note and a pen.

jaemin noticed jeno being silent the whole way. and althought thats normal since its jeno’s nature and personality to not be so outspoken like the others, jaemin could sense that jeno was off and seem to be in deep thoughts.

and jaemin was right. jeno couldnt stop thinking about jaemin’s encounter with ‘raven’. the name sounded so familiar. he tried to recall every girl he has came into contact with during his life. why did he feel like the name was tied to the handwriting he saw on the sticky notes?

“jeno.” jaemin nudged him in the shoulder. jeno mumbled a soft ‘oh’ before turning his attention to mark just like the others. “she didn’t send me a reply after my last one though.” mark says, looking up.

“its fine. she probably didn’t see it. just write already.” chenle says in anticipation. mark shakes his head. “calm the heck down its not like we can get an answer immediately.” mark rolls his eyes and began to write.

hey raven. um i know this may sound weird. but have you gone to a supermarket and met a guy names jaemin? im not a stalker i swear. its just that he’s my friend and apparently you know him. though i dont think that such a coincidence and come by just like that. hope you hear from you soon.

jeno stared at the sticky note that mark proceeded to place at a random wall of the living room while everyone continued to eat and chat. his thoughts finally linked and a imaginary lightbulb appeared on above his head when he finally realises why he was so drawn to mark’s soulmate.

you were focused on wanting to solve a math question when the sticky note above your desk’s wall had fallen in front of you, revealing a new message. you place your pen down and let out a sigh, remembering that you hsve forgotten to write a reply and that mark probably sent you another one.

you tied your hair in a messy low bun before picking up the sticky note to get a closer view. you blink your eyes rapidly as your eyes furrow in awe. what the note said really shocked you and made you freeze in your spot. jaemin is friends with your soulmate? there’s no way.

you sat there for awhile as you constantly read over the words, still in shock with your moutb hanging open. you just couldn’t believe it. was it really what it seemed to be? another thought came to your mind as well. the thought of just who is this friend of jaemin’s? could it be mark? was your soulmate literally in the same place as you yet you never knew?

you grab a fresh new piece of sticky note and proceeded to write a reply after staring at it for so long and thought that it was finally time that you do something.

okay what you wrote really was weird. jaemin’s my old neighbourhood friend. its such a coincidence how you know him. i guess the connections are there. so haha yeah. damn. im very mind blown right now.

you take a look at your handwriting again, smiling to yourself. “i really do love my handwriting.” you mumble under your breath. you stuck the sticky note on the wall and resumed doing your homework, hoping that mark would reply soon.

while the boys were immersed in the horror movie they were watching on friday night, everyone turned their heads to each other when they heard the noise of a piece of paper falling onto the floor. in unison, everyone turned their head to where the noise came from and seeing the sticky note that fell.

jisung grabs the controller and pauses the movie. “we’re watching a scary movie and creepy stuff like that happens?!” jisung asks, stuttering out of complete fear.

mark decided to be the brave one after seeing everyone’s terrified face and stands up to pick up the sticky note, going back to take his seat on the couch soon after. “d-does that always happen?” mark shrugs. “well duh. that’s how i know she sent a reply. it wouldn’t be this scary if we weren’t watching a horror movie.”

everyone’s heads once again gather around mark as he read the note out loud. everyone gapes their mouth open, some covered their mouths while jeno could only stare at it in disbelief. “i guess we’ve confirmed its her.” mark breathes out, placing the sticky note on the table.

jeno reaches out to grab the sticky note to have a look. the unique handwriting that he suspected would belong to you really was yours. out of anger, he tears the sticky notes into two. everyone had their eyes widened at jeno’s sudden shocking action. mark snatches the now torn note back, looking down at them before facing jeno.

“what the heck was that for?!”

“dont talk to her anymore. she’s trouble.”

everyone lets out a sigh in unison except for mark, looking at everyone’s weird reaction. “what do you mean trouble? and why does it look like you all know something except me?” mark furrows his eyes as everyone exchanged glances continuously for a moment.

“she’s just not someone you should be with. that’s all.” jeno stands up and walks to his room, slamming the door shut and produring a piercing noise. the room was silent for awhile until mark speaks up.

“what am i missing here you guys?”

no one replies.

“we’ve been friends for a year and you guys are all keeping secrets for me?” mark scoffs in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“we arent in the position to tell you. its jeno.” jaemin murmurs under his breath, looking down on the ground just like the others.

marks keeps silent and stands up from the couch, the palm the torn note was in is balled into a fist as he goes into his room as well.

haechan sighs. “jeno has to tell the truth. he’s been holding onto that grudge almost forever now.”

everyone nods their heads in agreement. “if not, he’s going to live in despair now that he knows she’s his best friend’s soulmate..” jisung adds on.

everyone could only silently hope that things could go well.

after that day you’ve sent a reply, you havent heard from mark since. you dont know why. due to your lack of information on him, it felt as if he disappeared into thin air. although only a week has past by, you felt concerned and somewhat worried for him. did something happen to him? what made him cut off his connection with you? its not like you did anything wrong.

out of pure desperation, you decided to skip school today. youve never skipped school before, and you felt so rebellious and bad. why did you do this? so you could go to dream high and meet mark in person. youve had enough of the sticky notes. you just wanted to see how he was like in real life, not having to think about it through notes.

with a little help from jaemin by texting him on instagram, you knew that mark’s class should be ending by 4pm, and you were there at 3:50 in the canteen where jaemin told you to wait. funny how the security guard lets a student from another school come in with a pass or anything.

you slowly start seeing groups of students going down the flight of stairs that lead to the canteen which had a path leading to the front gates. some eyes glanced at you as they notice someone who doesnt belong at their school, you couldnt care less though. your thoughts were only filled with mark. how he looked like, how he would carry himself. your anticipation was the only thing you felt.

you wore your headphones yet you could suddenly hear a lot of squealing and shouting. you look up, turning you attention to the stairs. a large group of girls crowding around another group of people, who you assumed to be guys. you scoffed, thinking about how there’s always that one group of good looking guys all girls seem to go crazy for. you watch as the group of guys push through the large crowd.

once you got a closer look, you tilt your head to the side. you slowly bring your headphone down from your ears and let them rest on your neck, getting intrigued by how the girls were getting so crazy, even more crazy than the ones from your school.

“its mark! he’s so cute!”

you widen your eyes as you heard the word ‘mark’. you stood up from your seat, peering your head up to find which one is the girl referring to. you only see two guys walking. one smiling sheepishly while the other kept a straight and cold face. just which one is mark?

suddenly, you felt an arm grabbing yours and pulling you back. you jump out of fear and turn around noticing it was jaemin. you calmed your breathing as you look at jaemin.

“meet mark under the block nearby. its too hectic here for you to talk to him.”

jaemin dragged you out of the school grounds and to a secluded block where only a few students where walking past and left you there. you were lost in confusion but decided to trust whatever jaemin was doing, sitting down at a random bench.

“jaemin told us to meet him here where is-”

“raven.”

“what?”

you immediately stood in front of the two guys you saw at the canteen as you notice a familiar face. you werent able to get a clear look at them before, but now you realise that you knew one of them. “jeno..” you look at a different direction a you tried avoiding his gaze, though you knew you couldnt, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

mark looks at the both of you, utterly confused as his attention shifts from you to jeno constantly. “this raven?” mark points at you, tilting his head. you nod slowly as your turn your head to face mark. you observed his body up and down. he was good looking, just like jeno.. yet his aura told you that he was way more outgoing and open than jeno.

“you look...”

everyone was silent.

you gulp in nervousness. “im busy. bye mark.” before jeno could go, mark pulled on his arm to bring him back to stand beside him, earning a glare from jeno. the one you could never forget. “stay. i know something happened. you were always quiet whenever we talked about this girl. and i also know you all kept something from me.”

you slowly turned to jeno. you could he was annoyed whenever he looked at you. you felt it through his eyes, and it was terrifying. jeno took a deep breath in, folding his arms and placing his weight on one leg.

“if you remember clearly, chenle told you that before we became friends with you, we had a fight and didnt talk to each other for a long time. we didnt tell you this, but it was her who caused it. she brought chaos into our group. everyone forgotten about it clearly, but i cant. after what she did.. i cant forgive her.”

you opened your mouth, wanting to reply but your words were somehow stuck in your throat. you didnt exactly know what to say or do in this awkward situation.

“it.. it was a long time ago jeno, please. my feelings for you were real, even if we werent meant to be. i dont know how many times you need me to say sorry.” you pleaded, biting your lip as you waited for jeno’s reaction.

jeno sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a huff of rustration. “then why did you leave? you left me stranded, and because of you, i almost left my friends becaused i lived in agony since i missed you so much. i almost pushed everyone away.” you shivered as jeno’s voice started to raise.

you also glanced at mark, who still kept his confused expression on his face. through his gaze never left you as you felt his eyes scanning you body up and down.

“you two used date?” mark asks. you nod in reply.

“we were kids. we didnt know about all this soulmate stuff. but now..”

“you know what? be together. im not going to leave my friends just because of my pent up grudge and feelings. i cant control fate either.”

years had now past since you met mark. it really was fate. the two of you became close in no time and now.. you were fianally married. you couldnt be more happy to be with mark. who you were destined to be really was made for you, and you only. and to think this all escalated due to a note you sent out in pure curiosity.

you still remember what happened with jeno after that day, despite the lack of interaction between you two, jeno was open enough to accept you as his friend again. you are now living a happy life with mark, and always being able to hang out with his group of friends. today was no different.

“haechan get the chilli sauce!” you hear mark shout as you smile widely, feeling his arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. having a barbeque was a great idea to celebrate jisung’s birthday.

you soon see haechan with the bottle of chilli sause, placing it on the table where everyone gathered around the table which had jisung’s birthday cake. “before we do anything with the cake, let me announce my wish.” jisung announces proudly. you raise an eyebrow. “you cant say you birthday wish out loud!” you scolded jisung, but everyone laughs.

“his wish is something we all know.” jeno says, winking playfully at you. you tilt your head in confusion when you suddenly feel mark’s arm leaving you waist. you look over to mark who was shoving his hand into his pocket as if to find something.

you were completely clueless when mark nods towards jisung, to show some kind of signal. “i wish for mark and raven to get married!” jisung shouts.

you gaped your mouth open in shock when mark pulls out a small box, opening it in front of you to show a ring. you cover your mouth in disbelief. “did you guys really-”

“please marry me, raven. my sticky note soulmate.” you hear everyone clapping s a tear of happiness drips from your cheek. you quickly wipe it away as you heard the nickname that mark gave you. “we wouldnt normally do this but it was jeno that suggested this.”

you look over to jeno who had a soft smile on his face as he nod his head. looking back at mark, you grin widely as more tears started flowing out. “of course ill marry you, you dork.”

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portugalisinsa · 3 years

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In my desperate attempt to sleep I ended up thinking about copaganda and how the term as been abused and misused, so let me rant about it for a little bit

So “copaganda” means a specific thing, namely, a piece of media that pushes propaganda for the police, implying that the police is Great, Actually, and Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head About It. Cops is an example of that. Blue Bloods is the poster child.

However, as it always happens, a specific term that is actually Important enters the mainstream and loses its meaning because of people, and now it’s being used by many as “movie and/or show that’s about the police and/or has a police character that isn’t a total dick, which obviously means that the movie and/or show is bad”.

That’s obviously bullshit, and I will show that with Edgar Wright’s great masterpiece Hot Fuzz.

On the surface, a complete dumbass would say that Hot Fuzz is copaganda. Nicholas Angel is shown as good! The final act is a big shooting! Of course it is, right?!

Wrong.

Alright, so, Hot Fuzz begins by showing us Nicholas Angel and how fucking awesome he is. There’s what you would expect (urban pacification, riot control, resolution of “Operation Crackdown”, highest arrest) but, most notably, there’s a degree in Politics and Sociology, and they specifically mention popularity within the community. In fact, in the rest of the movie, that is what he mostly does- community work. He checks the traffic, patrols, gets minors out of a pub, and tries to find a duck for a member of the public.

So Nicholas Angel is awesome, and he’s the best cop. it would naturally follow that the rest of the police would love him. That’s what we want- if you’re good, you meet your objectives, and do your best, you will fit in the police and make the world a better place!

But no, the others fucking hate him. His superiors are shipping him off because he’s too good. He’s making the others look bad, and the idea of, you know, holding everybody at a higher standard doesn’t touch them. No, Nicholas Angel makes them look bad, and looking good matters more than all the results he gets.

Now, it would be easy to make it look like it’s just a higher up problem. The higher up are lazy and image obsessed, but the common officers, the ones we all meet, they’re good and appreciate him. “Don’t worry, public, we’ll protect you even though our superiors are dicks.“

Nope, they fucking hate him too.

So already, not a glowing endorsement of the police. But hey! It could still be copaganda! Maybe, I don’t know, it’s just those city cops, and the country cops are actually the good guys!

Ahah lol, actually? The country cops fucking hate Angel too. Angel is a “city cop” who thinks too highly of himself and is there to show them how it’s done.

If you’re reading this, you may remember that Angel kinda never did anything other than, you know, be a by-the-book officer. The country cops don’t like him for completely bullshit reasons that can be summarized as “you’re new and also you’re trying to make us feel bad for not being as awesome as you by being that awesome and we don’t trust you go away”. Danny likes him, admittedly mostly because he’s a sweetie pie, but partly for the bad reasons- he wants soldier cop.

All of this is, needless to say, not a glowing endorsement of the police.

Eventually, we find out what made Angel want to become a police officer; his uncle was one. He admired him, and wanted to be like him. Now, Edgar Wright could have left it at that, and we would have had a nice, traditional “amazing cop comes from long, noble line of cops” story, but instead, we instantly find out that, actually, his uncle was corrupt, and that’s bad, and Angel is disappointed in him.

So, to recap- we’re basically halfway through the movie, and the only good cop is Angel. (Danny isn’t bad, but like... he’s not exactly good either, at least as a police officer)

The movie continues, and murders start to happen. Angel is literally the only one who thinks anything is wrong. A long, long string of “accidents” is happening, and none of the cops has even the slightest inkling that something is wrong. They’re just like “Angel, you nipped scarf, you’re a paranoid dum-dum“, and what little they do, they do after a lot of arm-twisting and with extreme disgruntlement.

Once again, not a glowing endorsement.

On and on we go, two thirds into the movie, with only Danny liking Angel and showing any kind of improvement as an officer, until we finally get to the revelation that the council is killing people for the greater good (the greater good)... Oh, and btw, who is also part of the council?

The Frank Butterman, AKA The Police Inspector, AKA THE FUCKING LEADER OF THE POLICE IN THIS TOWN.

So, to recap, by the final act of the movie, we find out that the higher ups are corrupt and the main body of the police are ineffectual.

Okay. Cool.

Nicholas Angel then proceeds to pack up for the final showdown. I see lots of people making the argument that this is an example of soldier cop, fixing everything with violence. Me, I think that’s bullshit. In real life, the problem isn’t that cops have riot gear, the problem is that they use it for everything. Riot gear is something you use only when strictly necessary, and I would argue that “murderous council that’s packing” is one of those times when it is.

So the riot gear and packing up is fine. But what about the violence, I hear you cry?

Well, here’s the thing- the man is responding with the appropriate amount of force. Everybody is trying to actually murder him, and he never, ever shoot to kill. He shoots to incapacitate.

Look at the final body count, people. You think Bad Boys would have ended such a show up with none dead, lots low-to-medium injured apart from one guy who was badly injured but did it himself by tripping on a pointy thing? Fuck, even outside of copaganda, what was the last action movie that had such a body count?

Also, the rest of the country police come around, after initially responding AGAINST Angel, and only thanks to Danny mediation. Which... I mean, good, it’s good, I’m very proud of them, but like, once again, this isn’t exactly glowing endorsement. This doesn’t scream “see, audience?!?! Cops may look ineffectual, but when push comes to shove, they’ll save you!” to me, this screams “yo, they’re finally doing the bare minimum”.

Anyway, the end comes. The London police wants Nicholas Angel to come back because now they look bad, but Angel wants to actually rebuild and direct the police here in the town. They all do paperwork, because that’s what the rules say and rules are important and cops should follow the rules, and more stuff happens but it’s not important for the purpose of this so, here, the end.

At the end, we get the song. The choice of music is important for a movie, it means stuff. Even a mediocre director knows that, and Edgar Wright is a goddamn master of the craft. Have you seen The World’s End? Check that soundtrack. It’s perfect. Hell, the man directed Baby Driver, which, you know, was half soundtrack. Edgar Wright cares about music in his movies and he chooses it carefully, is the point, okay?

So, keeping in mind that, what do we end Hot Fuzz with? Some bombastic “bad boys bad boys, whatchu gonna do, whatchu gonna do when they come for you”? Something that pumps you up, that makes you go “FUCK YEAH”?

We end it with “Caught by the Fuzz”, by Supergrass. Which, yes, slaps, it slaps my whole bod, and yes, it does pump you up, but, once again, is not a glowing endorsement of the police. It’s a song from the point of view of a scared teen having been arrested by the police who is thinking “fuck I should have stayed at home fuck”.

So what am I trying to say with this? Well, let’s start with what I’m not trying to say; I don’t think Hot Fuzz is an indictment of the police. Please don’t take all of this as me saying that Edgar Wright intended Hot Fuzz as a giant ACAB. That is what in the field we call a reach. Hot Fuzz isn’t an indictment of the police, and that’s fine, because it’s not trying to be. It’s showing the police as a highly flawed institution, and sure, it’s not showing it as flawed as it actually is, but that’s fine, because it’s not trying to be The Wire. What it is trying to be is a fun action movie, which it is, and it is so amazingly.

What I am trying to show is that it’s not copaganda. It’s a movie with a police officer as a main character, a main character who is awesome, but it isn’t copaganda. It’s not endorsing the police. It’s not whitewashing it. It isn’t saying “look at the police, aren’t they great? Aren’t we glad the police are around? Aren’t we better because of the police? Don’t you want to become a police officer? Don’t you think that what they do is excusable, at the end of the day, since they deal with so much?”

But what does this have to do with copaganda? So, look. I get that it’s very nice to tell other people that their favourite shows and/or movie is bad AND wrong, and to feel like you have the moral high ground while doing so. I also get that words change and at the end of the day who gives a shit about it. I really do get that- I will never, ever give a shit about ‘literally’ being used as an intensive and not just to mean ‘literally’, for example.

BUT, some words are actually important, because they do mean a very, very specific thing they are best at describing. And “copaganda” is important, because you read it, you hear it, and you instantly know what it means; it’s something that’s also cop propaganda. Got it.

Which means it’s a word that is important to try and keep for as long as possible, because, you know... the cops aren’t always great. And it’d be best if we weren’t constantly told they are.

I understand that it feels bad to have so many bad things happening around us, and so little power to stop it. But you do have a little bit of power. You have the power to call a spade a spade, and to say ‘that isn’t cool’.

Calling a spade a spade, however, means that you don’t go around calling everything a spade. If you call everything a spade, it creates confusion, and dilutes a message.

So please. Please.

Instead of just pointing at something that has a cop in it and say “copaganda!”, use your critical skills and, like I just did with Hot Fuzz, try to find out if it actually is copaganda before saying it is so.

#hot fuzz #copaganda #long post #now please let me sleep #i'm so tired all the time #man this movie is great #my favourite one is the world's end tho #i'm absolutely not sorry it gave me everything #it made me sad it made me laugh it made me happy it made me cheer #p.s. this is all to say that I'm also not exactly sure Brooklyn 99 is copaganda #but i honestly haven't watched it in years so i have no interest in defending it tbqh #not that i've ever seen anyone saying that hot fuzz is copaganda #i'm sure someone has if only because there's always that one person willfully misinterpreting things #usually the same person going 'uhm maybe if people don't have critical skills #it's because of english teachers not doing their job'#sure it's your english teacher's problem #not you ignoring what they're saying because 'the curtains are just blue' and then covering your ears

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fmdkiana · 3 years

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*youtuber vc* WHATZ up famerz. i’ve got another SICK character for you to get to know! so SMASH that follow button! MAIM me with that like!

...anyway hi i’m demi, the famed hag, and this is my fourth child (following sung, andy, n jeonghwa) her name is kiana, also goes by ki and kiki, and if that nickname brings to mind anything But kiki’s delivery service u shall b Wrong. she’s fuse’s main dancer and lead vocalist, iconic qwen. here’s her pinterest, bio, public profile, private profile, timeline [wip for links], plots, & social media [wip for insta]. i’ll leave a condensed version under ze cut <3 you can reach me easiest at fmdjoosung or demi#6468 on discord if you’d like to chat abt this girlie!

okay first things first i’m gonna nip this in the bud. if ur like excuse? iu in fuse? ur coocoo for cocoa puffs for that one. u would be right! and i intend to prove to u that she Is fitting. example a-z demonstrates an at home kiki and a fuse ki. thank me later for all this pretty laydee content

background

may 28th, 1994 ya girl is a gemini

from seattle

born to a pediatric surgeon and a software engineer (who specializes in ai bc her mom is Cool) kiana developed a love for science... then tossed it away to be A Star

not immediately though

really it all stems from the desire to be unique in a positive way

with seattle’s large east asian population, she was lumped together with everyone else, and places where she stood out, kids made fun of her for

she felt like an outcast in every sense of the word, which is why when A Boy gave her the genuine time of day, she latched on

they quickly became bad for each other, codependent at its best

kiana’s lil ass rly thought they were romeo and juliet torn apart when her parents made them break up

she kept sneaking out to see him, and eventually it became troublesome enough that her parents decided to move the fam to korea

heartbroken and with the desire to feel desired, she auditioned for gold star

since she was young, she had dance classes, just as her mom did before giving it up for something more stable

dance isn’t what drove her as much as the feeling of a crowd being entertained by her

trained for 3 years, gold star had high hopes for her given her dance background + looks, hence her role in impulse’s a

a couple years after debut, the company manages to snag her an ost, and when that does well, they shove her onto as many osts as possible, but it manages to do basically nothing to help her or fuse’s fame, no matter the impact of the song itself, and they slow down on trying

that *big bad wolf vc* my dears, is what sets up her overall Thing, that no matter what she does, or how many people claim to love her, they don’t show up for her as a solo celebrity

it leaves her a little dejected, fearful, worried, but idol life isn’t something she minds doing anyway. part of her still wants to strive for more attention, and claw her way there, because she aches terribly to feel special and different, and to a degree, idol life will always give that to her

personality

the archetype of the kid in middle school who calls themselves L and only draws in anime style and comes to school in cosplay and naruto runs around and randomly speaks japanese........ yeah, that was kiana as a kid

and really, she’s only let the problematic parts of it go. she’s still a big fat weeb (& has lots of other fandom type interests too)

an internet kid, someone who never got a big following. draws fanart, has written fanfiction, engages on fan forums. stays at home unless she’s dragged out by friends

she’s a very Normal, Everyday type person in most ways, and that bugs her to no end

she’s someone who as a kid thought she had superpowers, like full on believed it, and to this day still thinks well maybe it’s just not kicked in yet

considers herself ~an empath~ because she naturally has very strong emotions, and seeing or “feeling” the emotions of others makes her feel that way too. that includes positive And negative emotions

she can and is wrong about what she “feels” from others, but the emotional effect on herself is still the same

and because that happens so much, kiana retreats into herself

she has a very small inner circle, and isn’t very interested in more than surface level relationships with most people because it’s exhausting to feel so much all of the time

that means usually, most people meeting her will meet someone who can be doin a little doodle, you’ll say hi, she’ll say hi back, then go right back to her doodle

she’s Nice and polite enough, but doesn’t take those first steps. some ppl might view her coldly bc of it

HOWEVA if someone were to bring up one of her ~special interests, she would come off like a completely different person

animated, kinda loud, won’t shut up. that’s more often the type of person her inner circle gets to see

she’s also a reversal of the hard shell soft inside trope, as a lot of her outward self and personality can seem soft, gentle, maybe even naive depending on someone’s view, but there is a core to her affection thats... dangerous

but i’ll leave that for the dms

and finally, here’s a phat list of personality traits that apply to kiana, depending on her relationships with who she’s talking to and how she’s feeling. yes some are complete opposites. see: gemini. if you wanna kno how to get a certain trait from her, i’ll be glad to explain

abnormal, apathetic, artistic, clingy, contradictory, dedicated, demure, disorganized, earnest, effeminate, emotional, empathetic, excitable, fanatical, guarded, hesitant, insecure, introverted, jealous, loyal, mercurial, modest, neat, needy, nervous, numb, obsessive, organized, overthinking, passionate, persevering, protective, quiet, romantic, scatterbrained, silly, stubborn, tactful, temperamental, vigilant, vivacious, volatile, wall flower, withdrawn

fun fax

claims her style inspiration is the 70s but really mixes in influences from ~the 40s to 80s

if she’s dressing herself, heavily prefers skirts and dresses over pants

doesn’t like being touched unless she’s really close with someone, then she likes a lot of it

plant mom. apartment basc a greenhouse

insists one day she will make her own jam but has yet to get around to it so she just has a bunch of jars in her apartment and uses them for plants and paper clip holders and the like

her fictional character romantic Type is the tsundere. is convinced fictional characters are the best dating partners

always wears glasses when at home, and a good amount of the time when not working in general

her mario kart main is link bc nostalgia and valuing a strong stat set that favors zoom zoom

the furthest she goes for environmental impact is always using a hydroflask

prefers having bangs and hair with a wave

always carries bandaids and bandages in her bag because she gets eczema patches when she’s stressed and it’s Embarrassing to her so she covers em up

#fmdintro #'condensed' i say #tbf this muse is well over a year old i just have a lot to say abt her #i luv her v much

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robotsandzombiesarebi · 4 years

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Hss class act fanfiction

Looking at the same sky - part 3

(Skye x MC)

[A/N -- If you would like to be tagged in these chapters in the future, let me know and I'll make sure you're on the list.]

Skye read the message and felt a strange mix of relief for being able to talk to Bailey after the conversation she had just had with her mother, and nerves because of the words her girlfriend had used

'Can I call? We need to talk about something 🖤'

Running though several scenarios in her head, Skye threw herself on to her bed and wiped at her dampening eyes. She sent a thumbs up emoji back and waited for the phone to ring. Within seconds, her phone lit up, playing 'Love will tear us apart'. Looking at the screen, Skye saw that it was a video call coming through and quickly hit 'Decline'. Sending a quick message, asking Bailey to wait a few minutes, she dashed to the mirror to check the make-up on her eyes was intact and pulling off the tatty pyjama top she was wearing, covering herself instead with her black bathrobe. Settling back on to her bed, after running her fingers through her long red hair, she opened a video call with Bailey.

Within seconds, Bailey appeared on the screen. Her eyes were heavy and her smile was plainly forced. Skye mirrored her expression, trying to hide the way her last conversation made her feel. Bailey worried about her enough. She didn't need outdated thinking and unveiled homophobia from her family adding to it.

"Hey Bailey." She said softly, clearing her throat after to help her voice. Bailey was clearly checking her own reflection on her camera, subtly wiping at the bottom of her eyes and trying harder to school her smile.

"Hey Skye. I miss you" Her attention was now clearly on Skye who smiled contentedly at her.

"Its hardly been an hour. But I miss you too, especially when you're sweet."

"So always, right?" Bailey let out a small laugh that caught in her throat as she spoke.

"Yeah. You're always cute I guess." Skye smirked. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well..." Bailey began. As she thought of the best way to approach it, she saw the poorly hidden, scared look on Skye's face. "What's wrong?"

The question startled Skye. Realising she should never have accepted a video call, she gave up trying to keep herself together. A glance at her door showed no shadows in the light under it. It wasn't unusual for one of them to decide to listen in so they stay in control of everything. Skye explained what had happened since they parted. Brian snooping, her mother's critique, her dad's obliviousness to her. By the time she had finished, her cheeks were streaked with charcoal tears. Bailey looked calm, taking in everything Skye was saying, giving her time to finish before reacting, but her eyes betrayed her anger. She was furious. They talked through it. Bailey helping Skye to process what she was feeling while listening to everything her girlfriend needed to get off of her chest.

Skye exhaled slowly, composing herself and ready to move on.

"You never said what you wanted to talk about" She said dryly.

"Oh yeah..." Bailey paused. "I was going to ask..."

"Hmm?"

"Are you wearing anything under that big ol bathrobe?" She giggled.

"Seriously?!" Skye gasped with a deep blush creeping over her face. "No..."

"No?!" Bailey choked out, her blush surpassing Syke's.

"I meant, no, that's not what you wanted to talk about"

"Oh right... yeah, I definitely knew that. It's ok, we'll talk tomorrow. It's nothing to worry about right now anyway."

"You sure?" Concern shook Skye's voice.

"Yeah. Are you ok? The last thing I want is you worrying." Bailey asked, searchingly.

"I am. I think I'm just tired at this point."

"It takes a lot out of you, huh?"

"Sometimes. Talking to you helps. You always know what to say."

Bailey blushed harder than before at the praise. Suddenly feeling a little relieved, knowing she would still always be able to talk to her, she could always be there for her that way.

"I'm here to help." She said with a salute to her camera. "You should get some sleep though. If you wake up, just call me, ok? You're not disturbing me, I promise."

"Okay. I will, if I need to." Skye assured her.

They said a short good night and ended their call, not before Bailey blowing Skye a loud kiss, then waiting expectantly for Skye to catch it, which she did with an eye roll. Skye settled under her covers easily, one hand tucked under her pillow, the other cradling her phone. She scrolled social media for a while, until her phone chimed with a notification from Bailey. Skye opened the picture that was captioned "There's nothing on under this bathrobe either"

When the picture opened, it was of Bailey's dog, Biscuit wearing her purple fluffy gown against his plush white fur. It made her smile, more than she had all night. Bailey could do that. Only Bailey.

'I really love her.' Was the last thought in Skye's mind as her eyelids hung heavy and she drifted in to a peaceful sleep.

--------

The next day, Skye was getting dressed and checking the time constantly. She always met Bailey at 10:45am. It gave her a perfect amount of time to leave her house without issue. Her dad leaves early, so does Brian. Her mother, being a woman of leisure, didn't leave the house until she was good and ready. The bar at the brunch place she met her 'friends' at on the weekends opened at 10:30, so she would leave 15 minutes before, giving Skye 10 minutes to leave her room and get out of the front door before Brian came home from the gym, stinking and overdosed on testosterone. She got out without a problem and took a slow walk in to town. As she got to the arcade, she saw Bailey hitting the side of a crane machine which had a plush toy hanging precariously over the edge of the prize slot.

"Why not just put in another quarter?" Skye commented from behind her, making her jump and knock the machine, causing the plushie to fall within reach.

"Yes! I never lose!" Bailey chuckled turning to Skye and holding out the toy for her. "Here, he's all yours."

"Oh, that's ok. I don't want to take your prize." She mumbled. Looking at the toy, she could see it was clearly a knock-off version of the doppelganger monster from the movie she had shown Bailey on the first (and last) night she had visited her bedroom.

"But I wouldn't have won it if you didn't make me knock in to the machine. Besides...." Bailey held out the little stuffed monster to her again. "...You're my prize."

Skye was use to the corny jokes, the cheesy one liners, the awful attempts at flirting. Her girlfriend was awkward, it was a fact. She usually compensated for this by saying whatever first came to mind so she didn't overthink what she was saying. It made Skye feel more secure, knowing that Bailey meant everything she said without any hidden intent.

"Your prize for what?" She asked shyly, gently taking the toy and fighting her smile back.

"Hmmm... putting up with Ajay. I should definitely be compensated for that."

"Don't forget Danielle." Skye smirked.

"The girl who made me look like I would risk someone's life for a role in a play. I had totally forgotten about her, thank you." She laughed, shoving Skye's shoulder slightly.

The two of them shared a sweet kiss and walked in to the arcade, hand in hand. After playing their usual favourite games they moved over to the cafe area to get some lunch. Skye ordered their food, refusing to let Bailey pay while Bailey tried to get the busted tablet attached to the table to work. Skye sat beside her, sliding her a red basket of fries and a soft drink.

"Any luck?" She asked, nodding at the tablet.

"No, but..." Bailey gestured to the window. "...How about some classic entertainment?"

Outside, Skye saw Brian, flocked by some of his friends, all of them wearing similar gym clothes, surrounding a small group of girls. Brian was the only one speaking by the look of it, until the entire group of girls burst with laughter as walked off practically holding their sides. Brian, who's face now matched his hair perfectly, stormed off in the other direction with his friends trailing behind. Skye and Bailey shared a smile before falling into a fit of loud giggles.

As they are their lunch, Skye began to notice how quiet Bailey had become. She wasn't even eating much, just pushing her food around instead.

"Bailey!" Skye called out.

"What?!"

"You're not this quiet. What's wrong?" She asked as she stared in to Bailey's eyes, trying to find an answer.

"So. Remember I said we needed to talk about something?" She muttered.

"Yeah. Then I dropped all that stuff about my family on you..."

"No. I wanted to know how you were. You didn't drop anything on me, Skye. It's not a burden, ok?" Bailey interrupted.

"Ok. Thank you. Yeah, I remember."

"Well. It's kind of serious. I don't really know what to say." Bailey looked down, avoiding Skye's eyes. "I don't want today to be ruined. I don't want to ruin any day with this, but..." She took a deep breath. "The sooner I say it, the more ready the two of us will be for it."

"Am I supposed to be scared right now? Because I am."

"Skye, I have to move. Away from Cedar Cove. Away from Berry..." Bailey's eyes misted and her breath caught as she spoke. "I'm so sorry"

Suddenly, there was no sound. The arcades went quiet, the sounds of people talking dimmed until they were mute. Bailey was still apologising, but the sound struggled to reach Skye's ears. The whole world seemed as though it was losing its connection and Skye's senses suffered it alone. Midway through what Bailey was trying to get across, Skye grabbed her by the loose green shirt that hung loosely from her and pulled her in to a tight embrace. Bailey's hands rested on Skye's back, drawing small circles against her frame. It was too much. There wasn't anything to say to make this better. It was bad, and no amount of 'sorry' could make it better. It wasn't Bailey's fault, this clearly broke her heart too. After a few minutes of the two of them holding eachother as though they would be pulled apart this second if they dared to let go, Skye spoke up, softly.

"But... I need you. Please... don't." The words were strained in her throat and her arms tightened around the girl who was her only beacon in the dark that surrounded her life.

"Skye. I'm sorry, I didn't want..."

"PLEASE!" Skye screamed without a single thought of who would hear her. "Please...?" She cried.

-------------

TBC in the next chapter....

#choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #high school story class act #mc x skye #pixelberry #pixelberry fanfiction #skye crandall #skye x mc #skyexmc

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earformusic · 4 years

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10 Songs to Make You Feel Like You're Starring in a Coming-of-Age Indie Film

From The Perks of Being a Wallflower to The Edge of Seventeen, coming-of-age indie films have swept my generation by storm. Recently, it’s become a trend for us Gen Z kids to wish we were starring in one of these iconic films, whether it be because we want to be the main character or we just want to romanticize our lives a bit more. So, I’ve handpicked 10 of my favorite songs to make you feel like you’re the main character you’ve always wanted to be.

1. Grouplove - Tongue Tied

We’re starting off with a throwback that never gets old. If you think you haven’t heard this song, chances are you probably have without even realizing it. Although “Tongue Tied” was released back in 2011, this song has proved itself to be a timeless mix of rock and electropop that’s perfect for singing in your car as you drive down the highway at night with your best friends. Hitting number one on the Billboard Alternative Songs chart a year after its release, Grouplove proved the true magic this song holds despite its prior negative reviews. With an indie influence as well as elements of synthpop and post punk, “Tongue Tied” will have you feeling like the main character as soon as you hit play.

2. BØRNS - Electric Love

The American singer and songwriter BØRNS began his career off with a bang, releasing the critically acclaimed hit “Electric Love”. The poetic lyrics coupled with a heavy glam rock sound will make you feel as if you’re on the top of the world. The music video featuring colorful animations and whimsical dancers perfectly showcases BØRNS as the “main character��. “Electric Love” has such a bright, fun sound that hearing it will immediately make you want to get up and dance. On top of all of this, BØRNS has such a unique voice that definitely stands out.

3. fun. (feat. Janelle Monáe) - We Are Young

Once again, we have another timeless throwback song. I remember this song constantly playing on the radio when I was younger, and its catchy lyrics getting stuck in my head for days. The perfection of this song speaks for itself, considering the massive achievements it brought the group (including a Grammy award for Song of the Year in 2012). “We Are Young” is the culmination of teenage youth shoved into a 4 minute and 10 second indie pop anthem, with the lyrics describing an unforgettable night out with your friends. Listening to this song, especially with some of your best friends, is perfect for making you feel as if you’re truly living in the moment.

4. M83 - Midnight City

“Midnight City” is a track that’s perfect for playing in the car on a late night drive. The lyrics of the song are a tribute to city nightlife, indicated by the title itself. This is one song that doesn’t need as many lyrics to articulate its message, but the hollow echoes of the lyrics given resonate with the listener. The song’s transcendent sound and memorable riff make it one that you won’t want to miss. You also can’t talk about this song without mentioning the standout saxophone solo that ends the track. I firmly believe that this is one of those songs that’s better listened to than explained, as the song speaks for itself.

5. Young the Giant - Cough Syrup

As soon as I heard this song come up on my Spotify shuffle, I immediately added it to my playlist. The mix of an indie rock sound with meaningful lyrics caught my attention, and I couldn’t stop listening to the song for weeks. The lyrics of “Cough Syrup” perfectly depict the cliché struggle many coming-of-age indie film protagonists face: the feeling of being lost and aching to get out of your mundane town and lifestyle. However, this common story troupe doesn’t only apply to fictional characters but to many teenagers out there as well (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience). This song by the alternative rock band has the perfect balance of symbolic lyrics and a catchy chorus that you will be humming for hours.

6. Supergrass - Alright

“Alright” is a song that can speak to teenagers everywhere. Lyrics such as “But we are young, we get by” relate back to the simple yet complicated nature of the average teenage experience. Watching the music video, which showcases the British alternative rock band Supergrass joyfully messing around and having fun, will make you wish you could be there and hang out with them as well. The upbeat vibe and joyful piano tune make this song perfect to play on a sunny day.

7. Lonely God - Marlboro Nights

If you frequent the app TikTok, chances are you probably recognize this song from there. Though this indie pop single was released back in 2018, the popular social media app brought it back into the limelight during July 2019. From there, the song reached high spots on the Spotify Viral 50 Charts. The lyrics speak of a love story that many teenagers can probably relate to, especially the opening lyric “I don't want to go to school tomorrow I can't study thinking about you” that immediately leaves an impression on the listener. “Marlboro Nights” is another song which lacks in lyrical amount however holds itself up with a catchy rhythm and lyrics.

8. Bruno Major - Places We Won’t Walk

We’re now taking a sadder turn with this soft R&B track by the British singer and songwriter Bruno Major. Listening to this song, I can picture it playing in the background as the film hits its climax, and the protagonist finally experiences the sad reality of their situation, whether it be losing the love of their life or a close friend. This is arguably the saddest song on this list, however, I feel like it serves to show that being the main character doesn’t always equate to happiness as every person experiences their own highs and lows. Bruno Major’s soothing vocals along with the soft piano in the background make for such a beautiful song.

9. Wallows - Do Not Wait

Throughout Wallows’ debut album Nothing Happens, they touch on topics such as youth and nostalgia, and the indie rock/bedroom pop song “Do Not Wait” is no exception. The lyrics show how, especially during your teen years, everything feels so world-crushing and the smallest mistake can feel like it’s the end of the world. But in reality nothing happened, and everything is going to turn out okay despite those prior feelings. “Do Not Wait” was the perfect ending to an album full of stories about the teenage experience. When listening to this song, the bridge and outro really stuck up to me, specifically the part where the band member and lyricist of the song Dylan Minnette seems to be speaking to his past self. This shows how the whole song is written from the perspective of his older self talking to his younger self, while simultaneously showing his own personal self growth over the years.

10. Lorde - Ribs

You can’t bring up songs that make you feel like the protagonist in a coming-of-age indie film without mentioning the showstopper that is “Ribs” by Lorde. This song is the perfect description of the bittersweet feeling of never wanting to grow up that all of us experience at least once in our lifetime. Raw and honest lyrics such as “This dream isn't feeling sweet / We're reeling through the midnight streets / And I've never felt more alone / It feels so scary, getting old” give the song a relatable aspect that can appeal to all teenagers. The longing and sadness in the lyrics mixed with Lorde’s unique voice and an upbeat electronica sound make this song so unique. If you are looking for the perfect song to listen to as you dance outside in the rain at night with some of your best friends, or even for those 3 am existential crises, this is the song for you!

Now we’ve finally come to the end of this list, and I hope you found at least one song that makes you feel like you’re the main character. But just know, even if you may not feel like it, you are always the main character of your own life. Life may not always feel as romanticized as films make it out to be, but you always have the ability to romanticize your own life as much as you can: so do it!

If you’d like to check out a playlist with these songs and others that fit this same theme, here’s a link to my Spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3jhAQfVQpVmbabQEzG1gGF?si=rP0gfaVAS56RXUXn8aHgbw

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emeraldwaves · 5 years

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Title: Under the Glistening Sky For @kacchakoweek Day 6 - Camping Collab with @miqitten ! Check out her amazing art here! Pairing: Kacchako Rating: T Word Count: 2,580 Read on Ao3 Summary:

Katsuki wants to surprise Ochako with the best view of the stars, and maybe a little something else.

Thank you to @amaisenshi and @miqitten for reading this ahead of time.

"Katsuki, are we almost there?" Ochako sounded slightly out of breath, her voice high-pitched and a little whiny.

"What," he smirked, "you outta breath, Cheeks? I thought you were in better shape than this." He glanced over his shoulder, looking at his fucking cute as hell girlfriend. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of her face, her cheeks flushed. The sun was setting, and she looked like she was glowing against the orange rays.

"I-I'm in great shape!" she retorted, thrusting her finger towards him. "I-I just don't normally climb up giant mountains!"

He rolled his eyes, continuing forward.

"This is practically a hill," he snorted.

"It's a mountain," she huffed, pushing her walking stick into the ground angrily. "I'm sorry I don't hike all the time like you do!" She stomped past him, and he snorted again, watching her lean awkwardly over the walking stick, her ass jutting out.

"Well, this sure is a nice view," he smirked, taking his time so he could stay behind her.

She glanced towards him and noticed where his gaze was looking. She swung her head around, the small pieces of brown hair which had fallen from her bun smacked her in the face. "Let's get to this 'surprise'."

Bakugou pursed his lips, watching her stomp further up the hill. He was silently starting to wonder if this was a bad idea. He knew this hike led up to one of the most beautiful views of the night sky. There was a camping spot at the top, and the view was breathtaking. He had done it hundreds of times, usually alone.

Hiking was normally an activity he preferred to do alone, but this was one of the best places to view the stars, something he knew Ochako would appreciate.

And the small black box felt heavy in his pocket.

It had been Kirishima's idea, to combine something they both cared about. Hero work would've been the obvious answer, but proposing to Ochako at work felt like the fuckin' worst idea ever. So instead, he decided to take her hiking to the place where she could see the stars.

She always loved astronomy and the night sky. He noticed it almost right away; the way she always looked up and galaxies seemed to swirl in her large brown eyes. He loved how she looked when she talked passionately about constellations, he loved how she knew what the stars names were.

He loved her.

"C'mon on Katsuki!" she huffed. "You're slowing us down!"

With how huffy she was getting, Bakugou was starting to think this was a horrible idea.

He had this stupid, fuckin' image in his head, of getting down on one knee, her body illuminated by the night sky behind her, her eyes twinkling like the stars she loved so much; it was supposed to be perfect.

But now, she was sweaty and annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, Cheeks. Calm down. It'll be fuckin' worth it okay?" he said, pushing his own walking stick against the ground.

"You keep saying that," she sighed. "But I'm not sure how much I believe you."

"I fuckin' promise," he snarled, gritting his teeth.

"How about... I just float my way to the top," she smirked, wiggling her fingers.

"No. Let's go. We're almost there," he snapped, growing more and more tense with every sentence she spoke. This is why he preferred to hike alone. Couldn't she just get to the top so they could enjoy it?!

"You said that 20 minutes ago."

"20 minutes isn't a long time!" he snapped.

Her lips curled into a pout. "Fine, let's go."

Admittedly, he needed get this whole goddamn proposal out of the way and he would stop thinking about every stupid scenario or what she would possibly say. If she kept acting frustrated, he silently wondered if she would maybe say no. He shook his head. There was no way she would say no. How could anyone say no to him, Bakugou Katsuki!? Soon to be number one hero!

Besides, they had been together for years, even sharing an apartment now. They were practically already married...

At first he didn't care about getting married, he was happy to just be with her. But as time went on and they both climbed the ranks, fans and other heroes would constantly hit on her, like she was single. A ring on her finger would certainly remedy that. Apparently people did it to him too but he never noticed. She was the only goddamn girl for him.

It wasn't just his petty jealousy... he started getting stupid thoughts too. Thoughts of her in a beautiful dress as she walked down the aisle, straight towards him. Thoughts of wrapping their fingers together, their rings glistening under the moonlight. There were other stupid ideas too... where they owned a house, her stomach swollen with their first kid.

It was all dumb shit.

Dumb shit that led him to pick out a diamond ring, which now felt like it weighed a million pounds in his pocket.

He continued up the hill with her and by now the sun was set. The gentle sound of crickets filled the evening air and he was happy she was staying quiet. He couldn't deal with talking to her and the massive amount of thoughts swirling around in his head. This wasn't like him. He was confident, proud, and bold... not a nervous fucking wreck.

"You know, I think this hike is starting to take its toll on you too, Katsuki," Ochako hummed, gently nudging her shoulder against his. "Did you drink some water? You look a little pale.

"I'm not fuckin' pale!" he hissed.

"You are a little," she teased, leaning forward to poke her finger against his cheek. "Don't get angry, just drink some water."

"I'm fine, Cheeks. Let's hurry up and get to the top." He grabbed her hand and yanked her forward, ignoring her soft, protesting squeak.

He remembered the first time they'd held hands. She'd tentatively laced her fingers through his, giving him an encouraging squeeze. It was one of the first days together as professional heroes, and the villain had gotten away, but not after they destroyed multiple buildings and injured plenty of civilians.

Not a very good start for someone who wanted to be the number one hero.

"It's okay, Bakugou-kun," she had said. "You'll get him. I know you will."

Before, he probably would've pulled away, but that day, he'd squeezed her hand back.

In fact, he never wanted to let go of her hand if he could help it.

It was the whole reason he had the little black box in his pocket.

He swallowed, trying his best not to turn and stare at her. It was always difficult not to; a problem he faced ever since they'd started dating. They meant to keep it a secret, something for just the two of them, mostly because Bakugou hated the media being involved. However, Ochako had inevitably blabbed to some of the girls which meant the news circulated around their friends very quickly.

In the end, Bakugou didn't mind all that much. He was happy to announce to the world that Uraraka Ochako was his.

He couldn't wait to see the physical proof on her finger. His mind began to wander, imaging the diamonds glistening under the moonlit sky.

"Are you sure you're okay, Katsuki?" Ochako asked, leaning her head in towards him.

"I'll be fine when we get to the top of the damn hill."

"Mountain," she corrected.

"Shut up," he snorted. He rolled his eyes and shoved his free hand into his pocket, a small part of him nervous the ring had maybe fallen out.

Picking out the ring hadn't been easy. Hell, he'd even shown it to his goddamn hag after picking it out.

"GOOD! I would expect you to get that girl a nice ring!" Mitsuki had yelled at him. She held the box up to her face, twirling it around in her hand.

The jeweler had called it a sunburst ring, and it felt appropriate for Ochako. There was a large diamond in the center, surrounded by smaller ones which encircled the middle one. It looked like a sun, shining brightly against their living room lights.

"You better hope she says yes," Mitsuki snorted. "You aren't going to find anyone better than her."

"Y'think I don't know that!" Bakugou hissed. He knew there was no one like Ochako, no one else he wanted to be with.

"It's a nice ring," Mitsuki had said, gently handing the box back to him. "She's gonna say yes, kiddo. Pretty crazy you're old enough to get married."

"Don't be a fuckin' sap," Bakugou teased.

"Can't believe you actually found someone," she smirked.

"You found someone to put up with you!" he had retorted quickly.

He had found her; he knew he was damn lucky.

He scuffed his feet against the ground, staring at the hard dirt crunching beneath his boots. Almost there. They were so close.

Suddenly, he stopped.

"Katsuki?" Ochako asked, blinking as her brown eyes looked at him with such confusion.

"Oi," he grumbled. "Shut your eyes."

"My eyes?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"But... then I won't be able to see where I'm going?"

"I'm gonna lead you, idiot," he snorted, stepping behind her to place his hands over her eyes.

She gasped, falling back against him and his breath caught in his throat. Her body always seemed to fit so perfectly in line with his and he hated how easily she could distract him from his goals. "Is this the surprise?" she asked softly.

"About to be," he muttered, walking her forward up the hill.

The clearing at the top was empty, which Bakugou was thankful for. As beautiful as this spot was, it was generally well-kept secret, and tonight they would have it all to themselves.

It was a large area, trees cleared away with a few picnic benches placed in the middle. There were a few small pathways which led down to campsites. In the distance, there was the gentle glow of the city lights, but the real view was above them. Unpolluted by the city fog, the stars glistened and twinkled, dancing against the dark blanket of the night sky.

He couldn't wait to see her round face light up perfectly.

"Are we there?" she asked, her face pressing against his hands.

He gently pressed down, tilting her head up before removing his fingers from her eyes. "Okay," he sighed. "Open."

Her eyes fluttered, opening wide as she stared up at the night sky. His view was better than anticipated. Her mouth slowly dropped open, her brown eyes sparkling against the shimmering light. She took in a gasp of air, as if she had forgotten how to breath and he couldn't help but smirk when her eyes darted around, as if she had to take in each and every star.

"K-Katsuki..." she breathed out, her eyes not turning away from the sky. "What is this... this is... amazing!?" she said, her lips pulling into a wide smile.

He knew she'd love it.

"They say this is the best place to view the stars," he whispered.

"I can see why," she sighed. She stepped over her own feet twirling in a circle, the warm night breeze blowing the strands of her hair against her round cheeks.

As far as Bakugou was concerned, he was the one who had the best damn view.

"They're so bright!" she cheered, laughing until Bakugou touched the side of her arm. "Katsuki?" She blinked, her gaze finally turning to look at him. Sliding his fingers down her arm, he slowly knelt down on one knee, still holding on to her hand.

Immediately, her cheeks flushed, her other hand pressed to her chest. "What are you... doing?" she whispered.

"Cheeks," he muttered, pulling out the small black box. "Ochako," he said, his red eyes staring up at her. "You're my fuckin' star." He flipped the box open, revealing the ring. "Marry me."

He watched her, her chest rising and falling rapidly, looking between him and the tiny box in front of her. Was she upset? Was this not what she imagined?! Girls could be weird about this shit... maybe he should've asked someone if she would like this?! This whole plan had been a guess, albeit a good guess but-

"Yes," she breathed out, interrupting his thoughts. "I can't... I... Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" she said and leaned down to slam her lips against his. He almost dropped the box, and his knee shook, falling forward slightly when she wrapped her arms around him to deepen the kiss. "Yes..." she repeated.

"Fuck yes," he laughed, standing up to grab her and spin her around. He placed her on the ground, pulling the ring from the box and placing it on her finger. "Now everyone will know… I fuckin’ love you."

"I love you more," she said softly, kissing him once more. She giggled, wiggling her fingers. "I think I might have to get it adjusted," she said, watching the ring slide up and down her finger. "This is... so beautiful."

"It had to be," he muttered. "To match you or whatever."

Ochako laughed, wrapping her arm around him, pressing her lips to his cheek. "I love you, Katsuki."

"Love you too..." he mumbled, holding her in place.

She pulled back, her eyes looking over the ring. "This is too much! You shouldn't have spent so much. I know you probably dropped way too much-"

"Shaddup. It's our engagement ring. Let me treat you," he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "This is the ring you deserve."

Ochako's pink cheeks grew even pinker, but then a smirk appeared on her lips. "Did you call me your star?"

It was Bakugou's turn to have his cheeks flush. "What of it!?"

"That's such a cheesy line!" she laughed.

"Yeah, well, I meant it!"

"I know you did," she said, softer. "You're so cute. I hope you know I'm going to tell everyone this story in full detail-"

"No! You better not-"

"Did you bring the tent?" she asked, stopping his outburst right in its tracks.

He froze, letting out a long growl, before rolling his eyes once more. "Yeah," he snorted. "You wanna stay here for a bit?"

She nodded up and down eagerly. "I mean... we have to celebrate somehow?"

With a soft growl, Bakugou slid his arm around her waist. "Let's go watch the stars."

The two of them made their way down one of the paths, setting up Bakugou's tent for the night. For the one night they were going to spend, it was perfect for the two of them.

They lay together, on their backs, staring up at the shimmering night sky, hands wrapped together. Bakugou loved the feeling of the small ring against his fingers and he couldn't wait to have his own small metal band, wrapped around his finger as a reminder of how goddamn beautiful this woman was.

She pointed up at various constellations explaining the various star patterns, and though Katsuki was listening and watching where she pointed, mainly he was just happy to be there, just the two of them.

He could've stayed in that spot forever.

And though he knew that wasn't possible. He knew, at the very least, he would get to be with her forever; his beautiful star, illuminating his sky.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #kacchako week #fluff

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itsanerdlife · 6 years

Text

Too Late

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warning: It’s Heart Break Birthday. That’s your only warning.

Every so often Peter comes back around. Every time it breaks your heart. But nobody can know, once a secret, always a secret, right?

“Please?” He reaches out, cupping the sides of your face. His gorgeous face crumbled and pained.

“I can’t.” Your voice cracks. You could feel the rush of hot tears running down your cheeks, it was useless to attempt stopping them, your heart was breaking.

“One chance, let me prove this is how it’s supposed to be.” He pleads with you. You shake your head, pushing his hands away. Your skin instantly misses his warmth, his touch, him. Even after all this time, after the heartbreak, your body still craved him, like a pathetic junky unable to kick an addiction.

“I won’t have an affair.” You shove him away disgusted by his suggestion. He catches your hands, pulling you back to him.

“I’m not talking about cheating, Y/N.” He pins you with a look. You blink up at him, shocked as what he meant settled in your stomach.

“You want me to leave him?” You gasp.

“This is how it was supposed to be. It should have always been this way.” He brushes his hand over your hair.

“You don’t even know me anymore. I’m not the same girl.” You pant, you were breathless and confused. Your world was rocking on its axis.

“You’re still my girl. The girl I’m crazy about. I want to know all the new things about you.” He sighs, brown eyes search your face.

“You’re too late.” You push his hands away again. “You can’t come back when it’s just convenient for you. I found someone else. I’m happy.” You shake your head, wiping your cheeks.

“Are you? Are you really happy? Cause I don’t buy it.” He stares at you.

“Fuck you, Peter.” You snap, staring at him, shocked. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” You glare at him.

“Tell me, you never sit down and wonder about us? That you don’t go to bed, wondering what life would be like if we had just taken the chance? If we had just said fuck it and went for what we wanted? How different your life would be if you were with me?” He calls you out. His brown eyes burn holes into your skin, his jaw ticked, he was worked up.

“That is none of your business, Peter Parker.” You hiss at him, you reach up on your toes to get into his face. “You don’t get to know a damn thing I wish for anymore.” You glare at him. You could feel the heat coming off him, you swallow, realizing you made a mistake. You shuffle back, dropping back down to your feet.

“You’re not denying it. I do, I wonder all the time. It invades my mind all the time, thoughts of you. You think I don’t know you, but I know you enough. I know the ugly parts of you, the things other people don’t know about you. I know you deep down.” He steps closer, invading your space again. Making it harder for you to breathe, for you to think straight. “So don’t kid yourself.” His voice lowered, a threat.

“Don’t kid yourself, you don’t know me.” You hiss back. “I wonder, yeah. Sometimes it wakes from a dead sleep. I hate myself, it makes my stomach turn. All it fucking does it remind me you were to weak to fight for what you wanted.” You shake your head. You turn, tears pouring down your cheeks once again.

“You were no better!” He snaps, his voice suddenly loud. “You didn’t bother to fight for me either. You can call me the bad guy all you want, but you didn’t try any harder than I did.” His retort has you spinning on your heels.

“So what the hell do you want from me then? Why are you fucking here! Or do you just get some sick enjoyment from ripping my god damn heart out every so often?!” You shout, throwing your hands up. Your cheeks wet, tears dripped down the front of your T-shirt, wetting the material.

“Maybe I just want us to fucking try! To have what we both want.” He snaps back.

“You’re too late. I moved on. I can’t give you what you want anymore. I love him, he loves me. He fought for me. You didn’t. You didn’t love me enough.” Your voice cracks. You tear your gaze away, unable to look at him as your heart cries out in pain.

“Is that what you think? I don’t love you enough? What you think he loves you like I do?” He scuffs.

“At least he wants me. He doesn’t find joy in breaking my heart.” You whisper.

“You think it’s easy watching you cry? That I like making you cry? I want to be the one that makes you happy. Christ Y/N, I love you.” His voice soft, his fingers brush across your cheek.

“I need you to stay away from me Peter. I can’t take you breaking my heart like this anymore. You’re killing me, I just, I just need to be okay. I moved on, let me stay gone. Please.” You sniff, tears falling thick and slow as you plead with him.

“Y/N, please.” He reaches for your hand, you step back quickly.

“You’re too late Peter, there can’t be an us. I need you to stay gone, stop breaking my heart.” You plead, pressing your lips together, you step back again. “Please, stay gone. I moved on, I did the only thing I had a choice in. I’m sorry, I do wish things were different.” You admit as you slowly back away from him. Tears falling, as your chest aches. “But they can’t be now. Stop playing with my wounds, and please, let me go.” You beg him, before you turn and dash away. Your chest screamed in pain, your soul ached for his touch, and your brain spun in confusion. You had to get away, this wasn’t fair to you, Peter Parker, just the thought of him fucked you up, being in his presents always ripped you apart.

You push into the penthouse apartment you shared with your brother, still wiping at your eyes. Hoping your brother wasn’t home, just so you could scrap by with a pint size amount of dignity. You attempt to hurry through the open living room, heading for your room. A good crying fit and a long hot shower would do you some good. No luck, you were half way across the living room when he called your name.

“Y/N, where’d you run off too?” Tony wanders into the living room, looking up from his phone.

“Oh just out for a bit.” You lie, you couldn’t tell him. No, not when it all started and ended with your brother. The reason you and Peter couldn’t be together, was your brother and his list of reasons from years ago.

“Have you been crying?” He steps towards you, concern etching his face.

“Oh, you know one of those damn videos on social media about the stranded puppies.” You wave your hand, giving him a weak smile. “I’m fine.” You lie.

“You sure?” He asks.

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, turning once more and making a get away for your room.

You couldn’t tell Tony, not that you were hopelessly in love with Peter Parker. No, because when you and Peter were teens, Tony had a list of rules. Like the two of you couldn’t date and he had a list of reasons attached to that one rule. You and Peter wanted more than friendship, there was sneaking around, lying, and in the end Peter broke your heart like it was nothing more than a glass bowl. Perhaps this was the whole reason Tony wanted to keep you two apart to begin with.

As you dropped down on your bed, you broke into sobs. You had nobody to blame but yourself. As much as you wanted to hate Peter, you knew you were no better. You let yourself fall for the one you were told to stay away from. You could only blame your broken heart on yourself and your selfish ways.

Everything Peaches 8/23/18: @mo320 @all1e23 @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @alyssaj23 @elle88531 @allyp1023 @itsemmyb @joannie95 @kgbrenner @violinbetty @jade-taillia @sarahp879 @raquegp02 @rileyloves5 @flashfanfics @pigwidgexn @bfuckjames @pcterpvrker @bluebird214 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @henrietteoaks @bettercallsabs @akschoenborn @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @destiel-artemis @paintballkid711 @freakingnerd99 @sweet-honey15 @mellxander1993 @geeksareunique @petersunderroos @supernatural508 @mariekoukie6661 @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @justmeinthisworldblr @nerdyandexhausted @supernaturaldean67 @ssweet-empowerment @writingaworldofmyown @protecthistoricalwomen @villainsaremorerelatable @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @lesmiserablememelovingfuck @teenagetragediesforeveryone @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda

Peter Parker: @ariminiria @everthenerd @crayonwriting @bellamouse16 @paranoiadestroyah @kiss-the-stars-goodbye

#Marvel #Peter Parker x Reader #Avengers #Peter x Reader #Too Late #Marvel Fanfiction #Peter Parker One Shots #Avengers Fanfiction #Peter One Shots

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awanderingway · 5 years

Text

A Sunday in Paris

When I told her I was going to Paris, my dear mother asked me for a picture of Jim Morrison's grave. When gathering recommendations for things I should see and do, Sienna suggested I visit that same cemetery, and the oldest bookstore I could find. Sienna isn't my mother, but I sometimes wish she was, so I found an old bookstore: Shakespeare and Company. It was decades old, with a rich history that sounded like a literature major's wet dream.

It was also across the street from the Notre Dame, a fact I should have considered when I selected it as a destination. I thought: two birds, one stone. See the recently charred cathedral then pop over for some quiet time among rare novels.

As I sat outside, stress smoking, I realized that the cramped building was ill-equipped for its touristy location. I watched people open the door and then pause at the wall of bodies that greeted them. I didn't want to be a part of it, but I had said I would, so I flicked my cigarette into a puddle, found some fitting music, and stepped inside.

The shop was deep, winding, and packed floor to ceiling with books-- plush chairs and sofas were tucked into corners, mirrors and literary quotes decorated the walls. Despite the claustrophobic crowd I felt immediately at home. With Florence & the Machine crooning into my ears, I did my best to wander. I was pulled almost magnetically to the back of the store, to the poetry section. And behind the poetry was a wall dedicated to "the violet hour"-- books on grief. I found an eclectic book on heartbreak and how to overcome it. I brought the book to an open velvet chair and read through creeping tears. I have grief I haven't dealt with, a broken heart I haven't mended, and I thought I was thumbing through the solution. Chapter two was all about self destruction, my favorite pastime. It even had my mantra: the only way out is through.

But as I read on, something incredible happened: about halfway through the book (it's a quick read) I realized that I wasn't suffering in the same way anymore. Yes, my father was dead. Yes, a relationship I had kind of thought might last forever was over. Yes, I still engaged in self destructive behaviors that likely stemmed from these separate, heart shattering events. But more than that, I was… okay. Maybe just in that moment. Maybe this afternoon in Paris I am Okay. But maybe tomorrow I won't be. And even though every mention of stalking your ex on social media had me itching to pull up his girlfriend's Instagram, I didn't have wifi and also, it didn't matter. Who gives a fuck what they're doing? I'm in Paris. And without his negativity, maybe I can enjoy it this time.

I put the book back. It wasn't for me, not for the person I am right now in this moment. It had been insightful. I listen to sad music to connect, not because I'm a masochist who wants to wallow in her pain. And I am no longer focused on the things that died.

I almost bought another book on grief, beautifully written, but at the last moment decided that such deep sorrow was not what I needed right now. I almost bought a book to quit smoking, but Paris is not the place to deny yourself a cigarette. I almost bought a book about writing but found it too pretentious.

Instead, I purchased a sci-fi short story anthology. The covers are kind of sticky. The shopkeeper stamped it with their seal. All the while, Florence wailed.

Afterward I walked into the attached cafe. I wanted to have something sweet and something caffeinated and to sit at a window and read my new book and people watch. But there were no open seats inside, and the outdoor tables were coated in afternoon rain. She asked me if I wanted my cheesecake and mocha to go.

I should have said yes.

I could have walked to the park, sat under a tree, shoved cake into my mouth while I weaved in and out of crowds.

But no, I held onto the hope that someone would leave in the amount of time it took to steam my milk, and told her I would eat there. A woman elbowed my tray as I tried to get outside to find a seat. My mocha spilled over my cheesecake. I told her it was fine. What would she do about it now? I sat awkwardly at the end of a bench that was already occupied. I ate and drank as quickly as I could and left. It wasn't very fun.

Lessons learned:

Just because you think you haven't grown doesn't mean you have. A tree you see every day doesn't seem any taller, but leave it for a few years and come back and you will realize it is. A heart is the same. Don't dismiss your progress.

Florence & the Machine is a perfect Paris soundtrack.

Don't be afraid to change dreams to accommodate real life. If a cafe with 12 seats has 15 people in it, take your mocha to go.

#paris #travel #solofemaletravel #shakespeare and company #i forgot that tumblr tags are not like instagram tags #uhm #france #notre dame #i'll make another post with pictures #writing #travelblog #i'm on the train to nice and i want to find the food cart because i am so thirsty but i also don't want to do that because i'm shy #after our next stop i will #promise

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maevefiction · 5 years

Text

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 47

We stood outside the Paddle Room after texting Sammy to let him know we’d arrived, waiting for him to give us the okay once he’d gotten everything in place for our entrance. The makeup Veronica had so artfully applied was gonzo, replaced with what amounted to a hack job in comparison, courtesy of yours truly. The bun had drooped considerably so I’d abandoned that as well, leaving my hair hanging in loose waves that brushed my collar bones. Tom and I kept glancing each other and shaking our heads in disbelief, then smiling, then frowning. We’d decided that we should use this opportunity to share our news, as a sonogram to determine how far along I actually was would happen as soon as I could get someone in LA to fit me into their schedule, at which point a leak would likely be inevitable…thus, it seemed to be a ‘better they hear it from us’ scenario. WHEN to share it was the question, and we were concerned that those closest to us might be offended they hadn’t been told first. Tom’s phone chirped, and we opened the doors to listen for our cue. The low tones of something classical I couldn’t quickly identify faded, followed by Sammy’s voice booming over the sound system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for…allow me to introduce, for the very first time…MR. AND MRS. HIDDLESTON!”

We’d requested La Roux’s ‘Tigerlily’ be played as we came in, starting at the first chorus, but instead, there was silence. Everyone was standing around the outer edge of the dance floor, facing us, but there was no applause, no congratulatory shouts…nothing. I turned to Sammy’s DJ station and noticed he wasn’t alone…next to him was Simon, microphone in hand, and I heard music start and he began to sing ‘Stand By Me’. After the first verse, the entire room joined in, and it wasn’t until they'd almost finished that I comprehended why they were doing it. Even though we’d practically just done a shoot for the media as a result of the Claudia debacle, it had completely slipped my mind. Honestly, yesterday felt like a lifetime ago from where I stood, but the sentiment was so beautiful and having the support of so many people, many of whom had either just met or barely knew me, fostered such a sense of belonging, of family…and so, of course, I fucking cried again. When I looked up at Tom he, too, was bawling, which made me feel that my tears were seemingly justifiable. Either that or we’d just morphed into a new phase of our existence, wherein if we were a band I’d christen us The Weepers. We’d play totally emo stuff, with songs like ‘Cry, Cry, Cry’ and ‘All Day Sob Song’. The applause began once the song ended, accompanied by whistles and cheers. Through my tears I raised my left eyebrow at Tom, and he responded with a shrug, then nodded as he darted over to Simon and snatched the microphone from his hand. He walked back to my side as he began to speak.

“Thank you all so much for that, and for being here with us. Maude and I are so very, very blessed to have you in our lives, and sharing this day, one which I wouldn’t have thought could possibly be more meaningful, more joyful, or more…more…” Watching him, I could tell he’d totally lost his train of thought, so I reached out and touched his hand lightly. He turned to look at me, and when I smiled, he smiled, and resumed. “Anyway. Since we’re all here in one place, gathered together in celebration, we’d like to share some news with you, if you don’t mind. Mrs. Hiddleston, would you like to do the honors?”

He handed me the mic, which left me no way out, and my eyes moved from one side of the room to the other, noting the varied expressions of our guests and imagining how they’d change in a matter of seconds. I swallowed, then cleared my throat.

“Well, this is totally out of line as far as decorum goes, probably, and it’s still really early in the game, but we wanted you to hear it from us before it leaks…so…” Another swallow, followed by a very long, deep breath. “I…I…uh…I’m…um…” Tom’s lips grazing my cheek, while a well-intentioned act, only served to make things worse. I met his gaze and mouthed the words ‘help me’, and the grin that lit up his face as he leaned down toward the microphone was both ridiculously sweet and disturbingly sexy.

“What my radiantly beautiful wife is attempting to tell you is that…” He paused, taking the mic from me as he stood upright. “She’s pregnant.”

A chorus of ‘oh my gods’, some peppered with profanity, rang out, as well as more ‘I knew its’ than I would have expected, two of which I recognized as Simon’s and Anne’s. We were quickly surrounded by well-wishers, Simon being the first to reach me, latching on to my forearms and literally jumping up and down with glee.

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!” He stopped jumping to embrace me, then leaned back to give me a once-over. “Luke told me you barfed yesterday, you thought you were going to barf on our way to get dressed, and then you barfed again in the grass and I was like wow, she’s been a little nutty lately, I wonder…”

He escaped a punch to the gut only because Anne shoved him aside side in order to place a hand on either side of my face and add her two cents. “I knew when you thanked me for praying.” I sighed, and she smiled widely. “I jest, my dear. I just…knew, as soon as I saw you. I can’t explain it, but I did. The throwing up after the ceremony was confirmation. I remember that feeling.”

I shook my head. “Soooo…am I the only one who, like, had no fucking clue? Because it’s starting to seem that way.”

Simon side-eyed me, lips pressed together tightly. “Are you trying to tell me you DIDN’T KNOW?” Haven’t you been tracking this minute by minute? How could you not know?”

“No, I’m not TRYING to tell you…I AM telling you. It didn’t even enter my mind as a possibility. Because I put April’s info on the May calendar and…”

He crossed his arms, an open-mouthed smirk upon his face, well aware that there was some piping hot tea about to be spilled. “Oh Maude, honey, this is too GOOD. If you had no idea…how did this whole finding out thing, you know, happen? And more importantly, WHEN?”

Next to me Diana, Emma, and Sarah had been congratulating Tom, but were now standing and listening, along with whomever else was within range of my voice. Tom was trying to suppress a grin and failing epically. I rolled my eyes.

“Weellll…my incredibly perceptive husband totally knew and…”

Tom interjected. “To be clear, I didn’t know. I suspected.”

I flipped him the bird, which elicited a deep chuckle. “He suspected. For quite some time, apparently. And after my most recent regurgitation spectacle, he decided to broach the subject, since, you know, I hadn’t. I was all NO WAY DUDE NOT POSSIBLE YOU ARE INCORRECT then I pulled out my phone and suddenly it WAS possible so we sent Melanie out to buy a test while we did photos and a test wound up being six tests and we couldn’t make ourselves wait until after the reception so we literally found out twenty minutes ago or something and here we are and please tell me I didn’t miss the pizza bagels because I’m starving and I NEED the pizza bagels.”

Simon took my hand and began to lead me to our table. “Out of the way, people. Ravenous pregnant lady coming through.” Tom had followed and pulled out my chair for me, then pushed me in as I sat down. He ran off, and Simon sat down in the chair to my right, teary-eyed and smiling. “Well, I think you’ve outdone MY wedding, which is incredibly rude and I hate you for it. But seriously…I am so, so happy for you. Beyond happy. How far along are you, do you think?”

“Six or seven weeks? That’s just a guess…I’m going to see someone as soon as we get to LA to confirm, though.”

He counted on his fingers. “So you’re due mid-to-late February, then. Fuck me, we’re actually going to have babies together. I can’t. I need more booze for this. You stay here while I hit up the bar, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

As I waited, I glanced around the room, the decorations reminding me that I was sitting at the head table at my wedding reception. My ability to focus had been rendered to near zero, and I hoped I wouldn’t be left alone for too long lest I accidentally set something on fire or inadvertently destroy the universe. A plate of at least a dozen pizza bagels magically appeared on the tabletop before me, the bright silver band on the purveyor’s left hand spurring a stream-of consciousness recognition – this is my husband, who has brought me food, and we are having a baby. He sat in the seat to my left, and I turned to him, smiling, in all likelihood, as if I were a complete moron.

“Hi. I love you. You brought me pizza bagels. We’re having a baby.”

He grinned. “Hi yourself. I love you too. I did. Yes, we are. Have I mentioned lately that you’re alarmingly adorable?”

I shook my head as I snatched a bagel off the plate. “I don’t know. I’m like…” My snack-less left hand rose to ear-height, then flung up and outward with fingers extended as I mimed ‘mind blown/vacant’ as best I could. “None of this feels real. Maybe I need some coffee. Shit, can I still drink coffee? My condolences to all of you if I cannot. Also, I’ve been drinking it the entire time…is that bad? Good lord…I know nothing, Jon Snow. I need a tutor. Send in the moms.”

He grabbed my right wrist gently, guiding my hand to my mouth. “Eat, love. What you really need is fuel to burn.”

As long as I live, I’ll never forget that first bite of wedding-day pizza bagel. On a scale of one to Carnegie Deli Cheesecake, it was Spinal Tap crank it to eleven delicious. The rest were gone in just a few minutes, and as I opened my mouth to ask Tom if he’d go fetch me a few more along with an ice-cold soda, Sammy announced that everyone should proceed to their tables as dinner was about to be served. One by one the members of our wedding party stopped to congratulate us before they took their seats, and Diana paid me a visit before she joined her own table. She leaned down to embrace me, bursting into tears as she began to pat my back.

“The day I get to officially welcome my new daughter into the family, I’m blessed with the news that the family is expanding even further. What an incredible, wondrous thing…and how lucky we all are to have you, Maude.”

I squeezed her tightly, crying as well. “Thank you, Diana. You’ve all welcomed me into the fold, and I’m so grateful for it. Thank you, again.”

The staff arrived, carrying trays of drinks, soup and salad. By the time they returned with the family-style main course I’d begun to feel more like myself, grounded and present as opposed to being off in la-la land. The initial conversation had revolved around our announcement, but gradually shifted to more everyday things…a bright spot of normalcy in a week filled with chaos. When I realized that it had been only yesterday morning that the Claudia story broke, and that the insanity was not far beyond thirty-six hours old, I felt like I’d been caught in a time-stretch because it seemed that the duration had to be vastly greater. I took my first bite of fettuccine Alfredo at that point, which rendered everything else moot, and the noise I made when the sauce hit my taste buds prompted Tom to slide his hand up my dress under the table, stopping just short of the danger zone when the sound of clinking glasses all around the room demanded that we kiss. Again. For like, the fifteenth time. I shifted forward, hoping to connect and get some quick hand action in, but the bastard pulled away, trailing his fingers slowly down my inner thigh as his tongue exited my mouth.

I pointed my fork in the air, at no one and everyone all at once, voicing my displeasure loudly. “If you all want the bride and groom to hang around past the cake cutting, you need to STOP. DOING. THAT.”

Robert shouted from two tables over. “A toast to Mr. and Mrs. Hiddleston, whom I predict will wind up needing the third-row-seating SUV model in order to transport their brood in its entirety in the not-so-distant future. Or maybe a mini-van…and if that van’s a rockin’…”

Tom yelled back, with a bunch of other hooligans joining in. “Don’t come a knockin’!”

I leaned forward, head in my hands, but was soon disturbed by a tap on my shoulder. I turned and glanced up to discover Melanie, fulfiller of wishes great and small.

“Speaking of cake cutting…would you like to do that now, or should we wait a bit?”

The woman left no stone unturned, and I was touched by her thoughtfulness, taking into account that my digestive system was essentially an active volcano at this juncture, prone to erupt with little to no warning. Admittedly I was nearly full, but…cake. There’s always room for cake. Or any other food from the dessert category. As I imagined the sugary goodness that was buttercream frosting, I rose from my chair.

“Now, please and thank you. Cake. Yes.”

Tom had been engrossed in conversation with Luke, and my sudden movement startled him. He peered up at me, eyes wide. I leaned down, my nose nearly touching his.

“Caaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeee.”

He laughed as he stood, placing a hand on my lower back as Melanie ushered us to the cake table, which had gone unnoticed in the whirlwind of our entrance. “You know I’m picturing that cartoon panel you’ve shown me right now, the stick-ish figure in the pink dress with the yellow hair?”

“Allie Brosh. Mmm hmm. The woman’s a comedic genius. Did I ever show you Simple Dog?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Really? My god, how could I be so negligent? Those are laugh until you can’t breathe hilarious. Next plane ride, that’s what we’re doing, m’kay? We can probably wade through her entire repository travelling back and forth to Australia over the next few months, and…holy fuck, look at the CAKE.”

It was exactly how I’d envisioned it, and as I examined the text on the spines and worked my way to the middle I was floored by the fact that Tom and I had not only combined our own stories, but as they’d merged we’d begun to write the very first chapter in the book of someone else’s life, a brand new someone else whose life had sparked into existence within…me. I looked to him, shaking my head.

“Dude, I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to this whole pregnant thing.”

He laughed. “Maybe you should give it more than a few hours to sink in?”

“Excellent advice. But still…it’s BANANAS.”

“Agreed. I must admit that I feel a bit like I’m on a movie set today, because this day has simply been too extraordinary to be reality. You always hear people pinpointing their wedding as one of the best days of their lives, but I couldn’t quite buy into it, and yet…as of now, it’s an indisputable fact. For me.”

I slipped an arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder. “Me too. It’s over-the-top schlocky and romantic, but I am SO here for it. Which I will vehemently deny if questioned. Just so you know.” I poked him in the ribs with my free hand. “You gonna cut that cake or what?”

Tom took the silver cake knife from its spot on the table, grabbed one of the white plates, then carved a slice from the left tier and handed it to me. That was my side, his was the right, and he cut himself a piece from there next. The room had gone quiet, all eyes on us, wondering if we’d play it safe or start a cake-smearing war. We each broke off a small piece of our slice with our fingers, and I concluded that the places I’d most enjoy smearing things on him were currently off limits, so simply feeding it to him would have to do. He opened his mouth like a baby bird, and as I placed the cake on his tongue I thought I’d chosen wisely until he curled it around my fingers, covering them with cake which he proceeded to lick off. Slowly, eyes locked on mine the entire time. I mouthed the words ‘you fucker’, then pulled my hand free.

He grinned at me as he licked his lips, then raised his hand and moved it toward my mouth, which I opened, intending to return the favor and make things worse by sucking on his fingers. The opportunity did not, however, arise, as he ‘dropped’ the piece of cake onto my cleavage and then…ate it off. When he finished and stood upright, I pointed down at my boobs.

“Hold up…I think you missed some.” Loud raucous laughter filled the space, and I broke off another piece of my slice and popped it into my mouth. The buttercream frosting was ludicrously tasty and caused an immediate sugar rush to course throughout my body. A member of the waitstaff handed Tom and I forks while others began dismantling the tiers so they could be cut and served to our guests. We ate our first slices standing, then helped ourselves to another and went back to eat them at our table. Coffee and tea were offered, but I was still unsure of the caffeine situation so I had water instead, which was precisely as lame as it sounds, but my brain had still been too addled to think to ask for milk or juice. As folks began to mill about, Luke stood up from his chair next to Tom and clinked his glass with his fork loudly. Sammy ran over to hand him a microphone, and Luke cleared his throat loudly, then began to speak.

“Hello everyone. I’m reasonably sure you all know who I am.” He paused amid lots of nods and soft chuckles. “Tom and I have been part of each other’s lives for almost a decade, both personally and professionally. He’s been, in both those arenas, an inspiration to me and his success has motivated me to work towards achieving my own goals. No matter what I’ve ever needed, he’s always been there, ready and willing to help in any way he possibly can. He’s a gifted performer, a humanitarian, incredibly witty, generous, loving, kind, and he possesses a wickedly delightful sense of humor. Within our business relationship, we don’t always see eye to eye, but we always try to value one another’s perspective. One year ago today, we were at an impasse with no solution in sight. I’d accompanied him to Kauai as he was due to begin a shoot and there happened to be a seminar taking place here that I’d been trying to fit into my schedule for a few years, and after attending I contacted the speaker because I thought perhaps she might be able to set Tom and I on the path to an equitable solution. To make a long story short, she did, she came to work with me and propelled Prosper to a level I might otherwise have never reached, and, most importantly, she’s made my best friend a very, very happy man.”

Simon clapped loudly. “That she has, my sister from another mister. She delights me endlessly.” He leaned forward and looked up at Luke around Tom and me. “OHHHH, you meant TOM. So sorry. Do go on.”

Luke rolled his eyes, shaking his head and smiling. “Anyway. Over the course of that day, one year ago, I watched two people falling in love, right in front of me. Two people who’d been made to be together, but had yet to cross paths. It was such a beautiful thing to behold…and here we are today, celebrating not only their marriage, but the beginning of their journey into parenthood. Please, do join me in a toast to two people I love very dearly, two people I am blessed to have in my life. To Maude and Tom!” He raised his glass, as did everyone else while echoing his words.

Simon was on his feet before Luke even sat down, waving to everyone with both hands. “Hi hi hi. So. I met Maude Gallagher in the living room of a gorgeous beach house here on the island, and I knew straight away that we were going to be the best of friends. Speaking of straight…if that’s what I happened to be, I would have beaten Tom to the punch and asked her to marry ME. The woman is a force of nature…she’s a genius, she’s hilarious, she’s snarky, she’s sarcastic, and she’ll gleefully verbally eviscerate anyone and everyone who stands in her way, the way of those she loves, or those she’s contractually obligated to represent.” The crowd laughed. “Now this bit, she won’t appreciate at all…she’s also giving, loving, thoughtful, empathetic, and…kind.”

I yelled, hands cupped around my mouth. “Shut the fuck UP, Simon. You’ll ruin my rep!” Another round of laughter ensued, continuing even as he started speaking again.

“We are kindred spirits. Our birthdays are one day apart, and we were born in the same year. You’re going to have to guess which one because I am NOT telling you. Anyway. I just love her to pieces, and I’m so grateful that she chose me to be her Person of Honor, and incredibly humbled that I was the one who came to mind when she was in need of someone to walk her down the aisle.” He’d begun to sniffle quietly. “I’m such a lucky, lucky man to have her…oh, and Tom! Tom! Beautiful, wonderful Tom! You’re doing AMAZING, sweetie. Both of them. I’m so lucky to have both of them in my life, to have their love…and they have mine, forever. Cheers, my friends, as you embark on this journey you’ve allowed me to share. May each day going forward bring you more joy than the one before. To Maude and Tom!”

After the applause concluded, Sammy announced that it was time for our first dance, and we took our place out on the floor, singing loudly to each other as ‘Adventure of a Lifetime’ played. A third of the way through people began to join us, and by the end everyone was singing and dancing like fools, which became the theme of the evening. When the festivities began to wind down and it was time for Tom and me to make our great escape, I was both exhausted and elated and unsure of which state would win out once we got back to the room. When he picked me up and carried me over the threshold, I knew it would be the former, and we both barely had enough energy to get ourselves undressed. He pulled back the covers and we flopped into bed, snuggling into spoon position, falling asleep with both our left hands resting on my lower belly, his on top of mine, fingers notched in an attempt to sate the overwhelming desire to connect with each other and the tiny miracle we’d made together.

****************************************

The entirety of Thursday had been spent lazing around and hanging out with friends and family, as most were heading out on Friday. Checkout time was eleven AM, and we both wanted to be present to extend our thanks and say goodbye. Tom had gotten up at eight-thirty in order to squeeze in a run, but my body said ‘bitch, stay down’, so after he kissed me goodbye and left the room I set my phone alarm for ten-fifteen on the off chance that he got caught up chatting and didn’t come upstairs to wake me. Going back to bed had always been one of my favorite things to do…it’s like the ultimate fuck off to the world and all the responsibilities it holds. Granted, I didn’t think I’d ever done it as well as Peter Gibbons in Office Space, but it always felt enormously satisfying. Today had been no exception, other than that I’d woken up at nine-thirty after dreaming I’d heard sirens. There hadn’t seemed to be any here in the real world, so I got up to pee and hoped I’d remain groggy enough to get at least another half-hour of sleep. Passing the dresser, I noticed that there were two keycards on top of it, Tom apparently having forgotten his. I sighed as I entered the bathroom.

“Yeah, that half-hour is so not happening. But, bright side – breakfast!”

As I was washing my hands, there it was…the knock of the keyless husband. I yelled that I’d be right there, then slipped on my robe. He hadn’t responded, which was unusual, but it was still on the early side, so perhaps he was just being considerate. Unlike me, loud shouty woman in room 203. I turned the handle downward and pulled the door open, smirking widely.

“Forgot your key again, did you? You’re going to have to make…”

The person waiting in the hallway was…not Tom. It was a woman with long, straight dark hair. She was very thin, much taller than me and wearing a UNICEF T-shirt with khaki hiking shorts and white Keds. As my focus shifted to her face, it dawned on me precisely who I was looking at...in spite of the dyed hair, there was no disguising those eyes and that perfect Cupid’s bow mouth. Claudia. In her left hand was a medium-sized gift bag, and in her right, a small semi-automatic pistol. I watched, time slowing down to something akin to frame-by-frame as that hand rose and the gun moved up and up until it was pointing at me. I heard a voice inside my head screaming ‘close the door, close the door’ but I was frozen in place, the thought ‘she’s going to shoot me now’ eclipsing all other internal messages, and then I heard a man’s voice yelling for her to drop her weapon. That broke the spell and I began to push the door shut, but she charged forward and slammed her body weight against it, knocking me back a bit, but I knew if I didn’t engage the lock this was all over…I was all over…so I pushed back with all the force I could muster, leading with my right shoulder, bare feet planted apart, toes digging into the carpet. Whichever emotion was propelling her was no match for the adrenaline of my own fight or flight response, nor the thirty pounds or more by which I outweighed her. I heard Sharon Carter in Civil War quoting Aunt Peggy, something that had brought me to tears in the theater, and in this horrific instant it gave me the momentum I needed to get the job done. No. YOU move. The door shut with a click, and as I heard a scream of frustration from the other side I fastened the bolt, and just as I stopped to catch my breath the sound of three shots fired in rapid succession followed by another single shot shortly thereafter made my ears ring. I waited for pain, looking down and expecting blood flowers to blossom in the white silk of my robe, and when none appeared I glanced up at the door there were three dents, but that was all…no holes in it, or in me. Steel. It was steel, and I almost collapsed in peals of hysterical laughter until I heard more voices calling for an ambulance, and that’s when I realized I had no idea where Tom was. That, as logic demanded, rolled over to ‘he should have been back by now…did she get to him first?’ and my vision dimmed, followed by a quick descent into unconsciousness.

Simon calling my name was the first thing I heard as I came to, and as my eyes fluttered open his fully-dilated pupils and panicked expression caused me to panic as well…I sat straight up from where I’d landed on the carpet, and he reached behind me to assist me as I sank back down, paralyzed by dizziness.

“Easy. Easy. Take it slow. You’re all right, I think you just fainted. It’s okay. The paramedics will be here soon to look you over.” I knew what he meant, and though I had no idea how much time had passed, his words comforted me…as did the fact that I didn’t feel anything abnormal going on down below, no cramping, no bleeding…nothing had changed. “I’m not certain how long you’ve been out for, but it took me ten minutes to argue my way through the fucking crime scene to get to you…”

I reached out my hand, and he took it in his own after placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. And then, once again, Tom’s absence was all encompassing and my words caught in my throat as I spoke, then finally burst out, my intonation wildly off kilter. “T..om. Whe…re…”

Simon’s face fell, expression darkening until he realized I’d zeroed in on his face with my gaze, at which point I could clearly see him trying to force the mask back in place. I sat up again, fueled once more by pure adrenaline, my voice my own again.

“Tell me. Just tell me, Simon. Don’t fucking sugarcoat it. Don’t lie. Just tell me.”

He swallowed hard. “Luke’s with him. I don’t have any updates on his condition other than he was still conscious when they arrived at the hospital. Two bullet wounds, right side of his chest.”

I could have never, ever envisioned hearing those words spoken about someone I loved. But, that’s likely how anyone who ever does hear such a thing feels…even those whose loved ones put themselves in harm’s way each and every day to keep others safe. I wanted to pretend I hadn’t, that I was mistaken, because it was too…too much, too awful, too terrifying…a cascade of emotions washed over me, and I began to wish that the earth would just open up and swallow me. A brief bout of déjà vu followed…I’d been here before, when Erik had died…and in that, I found my strength, because now, hope still remained. I latched on to the word ‘conscious’, made it my mantra, and rose from the floor just as the paramedics walked in, gurney in tow. The one in front was a young man, twenty-five at most, and while I figured he’d seen his share of awfulness, something had clearly disturbed him as he was white as a sheet. Behind him was a woman, early forties if I had to guess, slightly on the heavy side, her blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail that swung back and forth as she quickly shut the door behind her. I remembered there’d been four shots in total and that only three had hit the door, and the words were out of my mouth before I could even consider not speaking them.

“Did they shoot her? I hope they fucking shot her. I hope she’s dead. Is she dead? She should be so lucky…because if anything happens to my husband I’ll kill her myself, and…”

Simon stepped in front of me, shaking his head slowly, hands held up in front of him. “Please understand that she’s not herself right now…” Which was utter bullshit, because I’d meant those words, and he knew it, but it dawned on me that saying such a thing was decidedly unwise and I hopped aboard his train of lies, lowering my head and covering my face with my hands.

“I’m so sorry…” The woman came over and asked me to please sit on the bed so she could take my vitals, but I refused, and then signed a release indicating that I was refusing all treatment. Simon side-eyed me as they left the room, but I ignored him, instead rifling through my suitcase to pull out undergarments, shorts, and a T-shirt, then dressed right in the middle of the room. My Birkis were under the desk, and as I slipped them on Simon cleared his throat.

“Maude, don’t you think you should have…”

“No. I’m fine. I need a soda, but other than that…fine. I’ve had a miscarriage. I know what it feels like. All I can do is try to stay as calm as possible, and even with that…it’s beyond my control. But if I’m going to stay calm…I need to get to Tom.” I turned to face him. “In order to do that I’m going to have to get past whomever and whatever’s outside that door without incident. Is that a reasonable scenario, in your opinion? Or should I start tying the sheets together so you can lower me down from the balcony? Because getting arrested at this juncture is unacceptable.”

He stared at me, and I figured he might be having one of those ‘wow I thought I knew this person but fuck me not so much’ moments, but then the corners of his mouth turned up just the tiniest bit for a fraction of a second and I knew that even if it did come to sheet tying, he was there for it. The corners took a downturn and remained that way as he answered.

“Claudia’s dead. When I came through everything was still…still…there and I know what you said but it might make you uncomfortable if you see it because…” He paused, face contorting as he carefully considered his next words. “I can’t be positive, but it sure looked to me like she did herself in.”

I ran my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame it, grabbed a Coke out of the fridge, picked up my bag, dropped the soda inside it, then slung it over my shoulder as I headed for the door. “Okay. We’re good then. I’ve got keys for our rental, but you should probably drive.” Saying ‘our’ almost stopped me in my tracks, but I took a deep breath and started to open the door but was held up by Simon grabbing my wrist.

“Are you sure you’re all right with seeing this?”

Shrugging, I opened the door the rest of the way to discover the hallway that had been, in my mind, a portal to a personal paradise, now resembled an episode of CSI: Kauai written by Uncle Steve. Claudia’s body lay prone on the carpet parallel to the walls, her back to the floor, lower half twisted so her knees were pointed in my direction, right arm extended with the gun half-on and half-off of the palm of her hand. Beneath her head was a pool of blood that extended more than a foot toward me and to my left in an oval shape, which, in conjunction with the splatter pattern on the far wall, helped me understand why Simon was under the impression that she’d killed herself. Her eyes were still open, fixed upon the ceiling, and in all of it I was numb until it occurred to me that what she’d done to herself she’d wanted to do to me but had failed, and had tried to do to Tom but had only partially succeeded. As far as I knew. And with that, I turned away and began to walk toward the stairwell, not even bothering to check to see if Simon was behind me. I’d barely made it six feet when a police officer ran past me on my left, then spun around and attempted to block my path.

“Ma’am, this is an active crime scene investigation. You need to return to your room…the front desk will call you when it’s okay to exit the premises.”

I said nothing, instead stepping sideways and around him, continuing to work my way towards the stairs even as he called after me.

“Ma’am, you need to stop right there. No one is allowed to enter or leave the premises at this time.”

After that, Simon called my name. I kept going. The officer shouted.

“MA’AM, I AM ORDERING YOU TO STOP. YOU NEED TO…”

Another voice, one I didn’t recognize. “Carlisle! That’s the wife! The friend came up here to get her. They’re both cleared to leave…Detective Frye’s orders!”

And on I went, registering that Officer Carlisle had fallen into step with me on my right but not giving a remote shit about it whatsoever. His voice was subdued and laced with concern, but I couldn’t tell if that concern was for me or for himself since he’d apparently fucked up quite thoroughly.

“Ma’am…Mrs. Hiddleston. I’m very sorry. I didn’t see you coming out of your room and I assumed…and let me be clear that this time that only makes an ass out of me, and a huge one. Your husband is at the Wilcox Medical Center, it’s about seven miles from here. Do you need transportation? We’ve got a car waiting…”

That gave me pause. I turned to him, my eyes narrowed. “Can you get me there faster than if I were on my own?”

He nodded. “Absolutely, ma’am. Or we can escort your vehicle if you want…lights, and sirens if we need to.”

I was unable to process whether or not I should be pleased or horrified, so I let it go and looked back at Simon, gesturing in his direction. “He’s coming with us. Your car. Thank you.”

Simon ran to meet us, and Officer Carlisle clicked the mic button on his radio. “This is Carlisle. Guests need a lift. Still good on the location?”

It was challenging to make out the reply, but I managed to pick up a ‘entrance well shielded’ and ‘the media’. We walked down the steps and as we entered the lobby the three hotel employees present started at me, mouths agape as if they’d seen a ghost. I elbowed Simon, who shook his head and whispered that he’d tell me later.

An undercover police cruiser was waiting outside for us…a black Dodge Charger, the kind with black rims and trim…and I knew I’d made the right choice. Carlisle apologized again as he held open the door for us to enter and introduced us to Officer Moran as we sat down, whom I hoped had a lead foot even heavier than mine. I fastened my seat belt, noting that screens had been placed between the entrance and the parking lot, and there were at least five squad cars and three undercover and/or government vehicles that I could see. As we pulled away I peered through the back window and caught sight of the parking lot, which was jam-packed with media trucks and curious on-lookers. When I glanced at Simon he was scrolling away on his phone, and he looked up at me, brow furrowing.

“Sorry, nothing to report…I was just…” The vehicle pulled onto the highway and both of us were pushed back into our seats as Officer Moran hit the gas and got rolling down the highway, lights flashing. “Guess I should probably tell you before we get to the hospital…you know, that thing I said I’d tell you later. There’s been some incorrect information circulating, probably because you have dark hair, and…well, some major outlets have been reporting that…”

“I’m dead?”

“Well, yes, but that hit while I was in the room with you. Initially, the story was that…it was…that you...you were the shooter.” He bit his lower lip. “I shouldn’t have told you until it was addressed. I’m sorry, this is outside my…”

I reached into my bag and searched around for my phone but came up empty, so I snatched his.

“Maude, come on, don’t do that to yourself…give it back…”

TMZ’s headline read ‘Honeymoon Horror – Maude Hiddleston dead at 38, kills self after shooting husband Tom Hiddleston on beach where the couple wed just two days earlier’, and finding out where it had happened, another place that I held sacred, that WE held sacred, threatened to break me. That was where we’d first spoken aloud how we felt about each other, where we’d acknowledged that while we had no fucking clue where we were going, nothing was going to stop us from taking the trip. I reminded myself it was just a place, and that it didn’t matter, that the only thing that DID matter was Tom. And if he was awake and aware at the hospital, I didn’t want him catching wind of this, be it via the sound from a distant TV or staff members chatting amongst themselves. So, I decided to do the thing that I always advised clients to do…put the truth out there, right from the horse’s mouth. Simon attempted to pry his phone from my right hand, but I slapped him away, then logged into Twitter. Staring at the blank space where I was supposed to type something short and informative made me realize that I…couldn’t. If it was written, if I shared it with the world, that would make it real…it would make all of this real, and in my heart, and my soul, I wanted it to never be real. I wanted to wake up in my bed back in the room right now to the sight of Tom’s face hovering over me, smiling as he trailed his fingers up and down my arm to rouse me from slumber, and for this to have all been a bad dream and nothing more. I licked my lips, nausea creeping up on me as my body prepared itself for its daily purge, and I dropped the phone on the bench seat and began to sob. Simon unbuckled his seat belt and slid over to me, folding me into his embrace gently, one hand stroking my hair.

“Oh honey…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s okay. He’s going to be okay, he is.”

My voice was ragged, muffled by the closeness of my lips to Simon’s chest. “He has to be. How am I supposed to do this without him, live this life? Raise this child? I can’t, Simon. I can’t. He’s everything. I don’t want to be here if he’s not, but I’ll have to stay because it’s not just me anymore…I just…I…” The words were gone, and all I could do was weep. Simon began rubbing my back.

“I know. I know. I’m here. It’s okay. You need to be calm, lovey. You’ll see him soon. We’re almost there…”

Officer Moran cleared his throat. “Med center is the next left. I radioed ahead, and they’ll bring you in through a side entrance instead of the ER. Detective Frye just announced there’ll be a press conference at eleven-thirty. That should take care of all the misinformation out there.”

As we pulled up to the building a sort of calm did, in fact, come over me. It didn’t prevent me from throwing up on the sidewalk as soon as Officer Moran opened my door, but I felt like I’d regained some control of the situation, as if the power balance had shifted in my direction just the tiniest bit now that even though we weren’t together, I was in the same place as Tom. We were escorted inside by two security guards, then taken down the hall to a private waiting area. Luke was intermittently visible through the partially-open vertical blinds, pacing back and forth. When we walked through the door, he ran to me and pulled me into his arms, which made me think the worst. I leaned back to examine his expression, and I must have looked like I was completely over the edge because he shook his head quickly and began to ramble.

“Oh good lord I’m a fucking idiot I’m sorry I was just so glad to see you because of the news reports and I knew they weren’t true but…” I just stared, silent, having noticed that he was wearing a greenish-blue V-neck scrub shirt. I gazed downward, and when I saw he was still wearing denim shorts, I knew he hadn’t put it on as a means of infection protection. I swallowed so hard it hurt, unable to look back up at him, and he released me in order to take my hands in his own, speaking softly and slowly, as if to a small child. “Maude, it’s all right. Let’s sit down together and talk. Come along with me to the couch.”

He led me across the room to the maroon leather sofa that was flanked by two maroon leather recliners, all opposite a set of maroon fabric-covered interconnected chairs. Maroon, maroon, maroon. Never was a fan. There was a blonde wood rectangular table in the middle of the room, with a landline phone in the center and various magazines placed strategically around the edges. They were neatly, perfectly arranged, and I got the feeling that most who wound up in this particular space had little appetite for whiling away their time with celebrity gossip or the hottest global vacation spots. There was a TV on one wall, but it was dark. And so was I, as I lowered myself in slow motion onto the sofa next to Luke. He was still holding both my hands, and I turned sideways to face him, the seat cushion creaking as Simon sank down behind me. Luke peered around me at him, nodded, then spoke…still slowly, still softly.

“Tom’s in surgery now. They took him in about ten minutes ago, and it will be a few hours before we have any additional information. We can leave it at that, or I can tell you what I already know about what’s happened…whatever you’re comfortable with, all right? Take some time, think it over…”

Much to their surprise, I actually did pause to consider my options, and decided to take things a step at a time. “Simon said he was shot twice in the chest and was still conscious when the ambulance got here. Let’s start with that…the extent of his injuries. Do you know?”

Luke nodded. “Two bullet wounds. One here…” He pointed to the top of his right pectoral muscle, near the center. “And one here.” He pointed lower, just underneath the muscle, but further to the right side. “He lost a lot of blood, and the paramedics suspected his right lung was collapsing. The on-call physician confirmed that, and by the time they prepped him for surgery it had collapsed fully and they were concerned that the left lung might have begun to collapse as well. He was still conscious when they moved him out of the emergency bay and into the operating room.”

“Okay.” I’d acquired enough second-hand knowledge over the years to fully fathom the seriousness of what I’d just heard, and I let go of Luke’s hands, shifted so my knees were facing forward, then leaned back into the cushions, eyes closed as I struggled to triage my thoughts and rein in my emotions. As I ran my tongue over my teeth, I couldn’t recall having brushed them, so that slipped into slot number one and my eyes flew open. “Do either of you have any gum or a mint or something? I forgot to brush my teeth.”

Simon placed a hand on my knee. “You should drink your soda first. And then you need something to eat. I’ll go see what I can find for you.” He rose and left the room, and I took the soda from my bag and cracked it open, taking several sips that I used as improvised mouthwash before swallowing. After a few more, I leaned forward and set the can on the table between a pile of Newsweek and Country Living magazines, the returned to my resting position. Triage wasn’t working…all I had was a war waging between ‘I need to know everything’ and ‘maybe ignorance is bliss’. I let the pot simmer for a while, watching the wall clock tick off fifteen minutes, but it didn’t require a detailed statistical analysis to predict what would rise to the top.

“Luke? I’m ready for the rest now.”

His voice firm, questioning. “You’re certain?”

“I am.”

A deep breath, followed by an exhale of tentative resolve. “All right. I…I’m not sure I can look…”

“It’s okay. I don’t think I can look at you, either.”

After a moment of silence, he began to speak, rambling as before. “I’d been up since before five because I needed to Skype with the office, and it was just after nine when I heard what I thought were firecrackers…which wasn’t exactly surprising considering the mischief makers who’d been here all week, so I essentially rolled my eyes at their foolishness and got back to work. About ten minutes later Simon and I were discussing what to order for breakfast when we heard noise out on the patio, like chairs moving, then pounding on the glass doors. We debated whether or not to open the blinds and see what was going on or just call security when I heard a male voice saying my name. It was barely audible, and it sounded strange, and of course I thought someone was playing a prank so I pushed the blinds aside and whipped open the slider ready to chastise the moron responsible and…and…” He paused for a solid ten seconds, then continued. “I didn’t see anyone at first, but then I looked down and there was Tom, on his hands and knees, and there was a trail of blood on the stone behind him and he was having a hard time talking. I knelt beside him and tried to help him shift to a sitting position but he tried to stand instead, so I helped him up. I could see where…I realized he’d been shot, and he grabbed my forearms and said you were next and that he needed to get to you before Claudia did. He took four steps through the doorway and into the room, but then he went back down on his knees, and his breathing was very quick but he wouldn’t stay down. He kept getting back up, and he kept saying he needed to get to you and all I knew was that he needed to stop moving, for fuck’s sake, and Simon and I tried to hold him and keep him still but then two police officers stormed in though the open door with their guns drawn and telling us to get our hands in the air. We did, and Tom got up again and shouted…I don’t know how…’UPSTAIRS. SHE’S HEADED UPSTAIRS. ROOM 203. GO. GO!’ As they turned and ran off he went back down on his knees, and we were trying to get his T-shirt off so we could maybe stop the bleeding when three ambulance workers came barreling inside with a gurney. We just, you know, tried to give them some room and they had to put him in restraints because he kept trying to get away. They finally had him all packaged and ready to go when we heard the shots from upstairs, and…and…the sound he made, I…I…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get it out of my head.”

And then, for the first time ever, I watched Luke fall completely and utterly apart right before my very eyes. When he tried to apologize, I reached for him, wrapping my arms around him as he leaned his head on my left shoulder and cried, his body shuddering with each breath he took between sobs. I rubbed his back, hoping to console him, to ease his pain even just a little bit, and in the process momentarily forgot about my own.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. Thank you for helping him, and for being with him. He wasn’t alone, he was with someone he loves and…”

Luke’s head nearly caught my chin as he pulled up and away. “Maude, oh my god no, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should be comforting you, not the other way around.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’m grateful you were there, if that makes sense.” I shifted back to my spot, numb again, and trying very, very hard to not allow what he’d just said to take form as a short film in my head. My spur-of-the moment choice for a distraction? Ask for more. “Did he know that I was okay? Before they took him in?”

“I wasn’t allowed in the back. The desk nurse had me fill out some basic paperwork when I got here, and I didn’t know anything else about his condition until they had me sign consent forms. Simon had texted me as soon as he’d reached you, so I asked the ER nurse who’d brought them out to me to please get word to Tom that you were fine, and that everything was okay because I didn’t want him...thinking… and…anyway, the ER nurse stopped back right before you got here to let me know he’d gotten the message through, and to fill me on how Tom was doing.”

Another thing for me to cling to…that Tom had known I was alive. And hopefully that was something to live for, a reason for him to fight, to hold on. When I put myself in his position, if I believed that he’d gone before me, that I’d lost him…it would be all too easy to give in and give up. The tears returned, and I got up and squatted down in front of Luke, taking his hands in mine. He stared, confused.

“Luke, I can’t even begin to explain what that means to me, and I can never thank you enough for doing it. But I’m going to say thank you anyway. So, thank you. Tom and I are so lucky to have you and Simon in our lives. It’s a huge relief, you know? On the way over, before I…knew…how things happened I was so afraid that he’d heard or seen the news reports and…”

He stood, pulling me up with him and embracing me again, and we remained that way, silent and still, until the door opened and Simon strode in with a push-cart of food, trays and utensils.

“Sit down, you two. Time for breakfast. And, no arguments. Especially from the pregnant lady. I had to turn on some serious charmalarma ding dong in order to get the kitchen staff to allow me to raid the place…we have waffles, scrambled eggs, toast, bagels, oatmeal…though I don’t know who in their right mind would actually want to eat that…Frosted Flakes, Fruit Loops, Cheerios, cherry Jell-O, orange Jell-O, milk, chocolate milk, orange juice and grape juice. I even scored you a toothbrush and some toothpaste, Maude. So, who wants what? I’m Simon, and I’ll be your server this morning. Tips are encouraged but not required.”

It seemed strangely disrespectful to stop to eat in such a situation, and I wasn’t anywhere near hungry, but I knew I’d be far worse for wear if I didn’t consume some calories. I ate slowly, feeling as if my hands were moving through sludge…scrambled eggs came first, followed by toast, Fruit Loops and chocolate milk. Simon collected my tray when I was finished, and I stayed glued to my spot on the couch, eyes fixed on my hands as I ran my right index finger back and forth over my wedding band, then twisted it round and round over and over again. I could hear Simon and Luke talking quietly by the food cart, discussing the upcoming press conference and debating which one of them should leave the room if they decided to stream it on their phone as neither had earbuds with them. I looked up, my gaze shifting to where they were standing.

“You can watch it on the TV if you want. I don’t mind. None of it’s going to be news to me. At least I don’t think it will be. And if it is, it can’t be worse than what I’ve already heard, right?” I’d intended that last bit as a humor, but instead of smiling I started crying again. Simon began to walk toward me, but I waved him away. “Not necessary. I’m cool. I mean, I really have not the slightest fucking idea of what I’m supposed to do right now, and my emotions are like one of those automatic bingo ball things and it’s a mystery as to what’s going to pop out next, you know? But that’s kinda been me for the past month and change so it might not be situational. Anyway. Go ahead, put it on. Is it eleven-thirty already? That would be good, because I was pretty sure time had, like, stopped. If it freaks me out, I’ll ask you to turn it off.”

Seeing the Marriott as the backdrop for a press conference was bizarre, but that I was watching it and it was about me and Tom was some fucked-up Inception kind of shit. There were police, and some suits, whom I guessed were management or attorneys, and when a very tan man with light blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail dressed in a black blazer and jeans approached the podium I didn’t expect him to be Detective Frye. But unless he was fibbing when he introduced himself, that’s who he was. When he spoke, I noticed faint remnants of a Southern California accent.

“Good morning. I’m Detective Frye of the Kauai Police Department, and I’m here working with the officers from the Kapaa Substation. Be advised that we no longer have an active shooter situation here. The suspect has been pronounced dead at the scene. I’m aware that there’s been a great deal of misinformation presented by the media regarding this incident, and I’d like to give you some clarity and request that you remove any information that’s not factual from your publications and broadcasts effective immediately. Most importantly, the suspect has been identified as Claudia Heidrich of Los Angeles, California. From what we can piece together so far, she arrived at the hotel at approximately seven o’clock this morning and approached the desk clerk in or order to obtain Thomas and Maude Hiddleston’s room number. It was not provided for her at that time. She exited the premises, and the parking lot security footage shows her walking to and entering a red Subaru Forester, where she remained until Mr. Hiddleston exited the lobby at approximately eight forty AM and began to jog toward the beach. She then exited the vehicle and proceeded to walk in the same direction. We received a call reporting shots fired at approximately five minutes after nine, and the Kapaa officers arrived on scene six minutes later. The details surrounding Mr. Hiddleston’s shooting aren’t yet clear, but he sustained two gunshot wounds to the right chest and is currently undergoing emergency surgery at a local medical center. Security footage shows Ms. Heidrich returning to the hotel lobby at nine twenty, approaching the desk, then removing a .22 caliber automatic pistol from a gift bag and pointing it at the clerk. Additional footage tracks her as she ascends the stairs to the second floor, then walks down the hallway and knocks on the Hiddleston room door. The door is shown opening briefly, then beginning to close as Ms. Heidrich propels herself forward. At this time, two officers approached and instructed her to drop her weapon. She did not obey their command, and instead fired three shots into the door, paused, then turned the gun on herself. Mrs. Hiddleston was uninjured, though she was in an unconscious state when police entered the room. She regained consciousness with no intervention, refused medical treatment, and was transported to the medical center where Mr. Hiddleston is being treated. Updates will be provided when we have addition information. Hotel manager Leonard Schmaltz will take it from here.”

There were some questions shouted, but Detective Frye ignored them and disappeared off camera. As I watched a few blurbs scroll across the bottom, I remembered that Tom’s family existed. I practically leapt up off the couch.

“Luke. What about Diana? And Sarah? And Emma and James and…”

“They’re still here. Sarah and I have been texting…they were finally allowed to leave the hotel a few minutes ago, so they’ll be here soon. Is it all right if they wait with us?”

My brow furrowed. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Luke shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps they felt you might want privacy?”

I shook my head. “Yeah, no. Pretty sure I’d lose what’s left of my shit if I was alone.” He’d begun typing with his thumbs. “You can quote me on that. Also, anyone know where the closest restroom is?”

Simon nodded. “It’s right across the hall. Come on, I’ll take you.”

He held out his hand, and as much as part of me wanted to roll my eyes and tell him I wasn’t a child, majority ruled and I accepted his offer, albeit grudgingly. The restrooms were singles, and I considered inviting Simon inside but decided that was probably weird and left him standing in the hallway. I moved as quickly as possible, knowing it would be just my luck for someone to show up with word about Tom while I was taking a piss. As I was washing my hands I heard voices, and I flung the door open without bothering to dry off. Simon was across the hall, ushering Tom’s family into the waiting area. Tom’s family…they had become my family, too, but at that moment I felt strangely detached…which made me understand the whole wanting privacy thing. They were father, mother, sister…and I was wife. We had love for Tom in common, but I was odd man out, in a way. When you find a partner, it’s inevitable that your relationship with that person takes precedence over that of those established with your biological familial unit. I appreciated that they possessed respect for those invisible boundaries, but at the same time, I felt guilty, like I’d stolen him away. And then I wondered if they blamed me for this, for what Claudia had done. I had been the one, after all, that stood behind that podium and threatened her with financial ruin and incarceration while the entire world looked on. Not Tom. Me. I’d poked the bear again. And this time, she’d raged. And it was all my fault. How was I supposed to face them?

There were guards posted to either side of the waiting room, making escape impossible, so I went back into the bathroom, locked the door and sat down on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. When he woke up, if he woke up…would Tom blame me as well? How could I have been so thoughtless, blind and stupid? Why didn’t I just say fuck her, fuck the videos and let it ride? Tom was so personally invested in it all, he couldn’t have been expected to be rational about it in any capacity…and he’d trusted me to be just that, rational. Logical. Factual. Had I been? Or had something else motivated me…jealousy, maybe? Revenge? Anger? All of those things rolled into one? The sound of Simon’s voice disrupted my hate spiral.

“Maude? You all right?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?” He tried the door handle. “It’s locked. Can you let me in? Do you need a doctor?

“No.”

“Maude. Talk to me. Let me in.” I didn’t reply. “Maude. Open the door.”

“I’m fine.”

“Woman, you literally just said you aren’t all right, and now you’re fine? Don’t make me trudge my ass all around this hospital looking for someone with a key…”

I stood, unlocked the door, then sat back down. The handle jiggled, followed by the door opening outward. Simone came inside, closed and locked the door, then sat down across from me.

“Well, this is disgusting. Germ central station.” I just stared at him, at the line of his jaw set in anger. “You know you scared the fuck out of me, don’t you? Are you really okay?”

“Physically, yes.”

His face softened. “Well then…what’s going on inside your mind, honey?”

Shrugging, I leaned my head back on the wall and looked up at the ceiling. Dotted acoustic tiles, just like every other medical facility. “I can’t go in there. This is all my fault. They must hate me. I can’t face them.”

“Maude. The fuck are you talking about? How is this your fault? Where are you even getting that from?”

I shifted my gaze to meet his. “Simon. She did this because of what I said at the press conference. I threatened her with jail time and insurmountable debt. I demoed her life in the space of a few sentences, and she tried to take mine in return. And she may have succeeded in taking Tom’s. All because of me, because I couldn’t keep my fucking mouth shut. I fucked with her, and she came for us. Every bit of it, my fault. Every. Bit.” The shaking intensified, and Simon scuttled closer to me and placed his hands on my knees.

“Her actions belong to HER, Maude. Her alone. She made her own choices, every step of the way. You taking responsibility for those actions and choices allows her to become the victim…and she’s NOT. She WASN’T. You and Tom are the victims. End of story. You were just doing your job after she purposely broke the law to hurt you both. When that didn’t pan out, she tried to hurt you even more. She tried to KILL you. BOTH of you. How is that your fault?!”

Leaning forward, I rested my hands atop his. “Are you sure I was just doing my job? Are you sure I wasn’t trying to get even with the woman who wronged the man I love? Make her feel like he did, like the sky was falling, like there was no way out from under it all? Tit for tat, vengeance, manufactured karma…whatever you want to call it. Because I’ll tell you what, I’M not fucking sure. Not anymore. I think I fucked up, Simon. I think I crossed the personal/professional line. And it was the catalyst for this. What I did. MY. FAULT.”

Simon said nothing at first as he removed his right hand from my left knee and placed it gently on my lower belly, then whispered two words. Firmly. Separately. “Maude. Stop.”

I had forgotten. In all of it, I had forgotten that there was someone else in the room, someone who would be with me every second of every day until he or she emerged from what was supposed to be a peaceful cocoon and into the harsh but wonderous world. I burst into tears, and Simon slid beside me and pulled me into his lap, once again offering me sanctuary and serving as my voice of reason.

“You didn’t cross a line. And if you think you did…ask yourself this question. Would you have done that exact same thing for any of your clients in that situation? You don’t really have to ask it, though. Because I know the answer, and it’s yes. You’re the Credible Hulk. That’s why people HIRE YOU. Claudia…clearly, she had issues. But issues don’t justify being an evil fuck, and that’s what she was. It’s not only abnormal behavior, it’s inhuman. In this life, you can never really tell how far someone is willing to go until after the fact. That’s just the deal. You aren’t Miss Cleo. And hell, I’m sure there’s shit even she didn’t see coming. Didn’t she get hit by a truck or something?”

I hiccup-giggled in the middle of a sob. “That was awful. And no. Cancer.” His mouth opened and I knew what he was going to say next, so I interjected before he could even make a sound. “Son, just don’t.”

He sighed, then kissed the top of my head. “We should go now. And…this is a huge, traumatic thing. You’re going to have ups, and downs, and everything in between. Both of you will. But you’ll navigate it all together, and I’ll be there to do whatever you need me to. Focus on now, then one step at a time. That’s how we get where we’re going.” He stood up, then reached for my hands to help me rise. As soon as I was on my feet, I embraced him again.

“The sense of guilt is overwhelming, and I really don’t ever want to leave this room, but if I don’t leave the room I don’t see Tom, so…let’s get on with it. And, thank you.”

I released him, and he opened the door and we walked hand in hand into the waiting room, my guilt mostly assuaged by the depth of love and caring I felt as Sarah, Emma, James and Diana embraced me in turn. They’d seen the news, and while they hadn’t believed I was the shooter, they had feared I’d been shot and killed. We cried together, then waited together, and three hours later, shortly after I’d resigned myself to the fact that I was, in fact, dead and that this was purgatory…this waiting room where I’d remain for all eternity without Tom…the door opened and a woman in green scrubs walked through it. She was slightly built, but I could see the strength in her forearms as she reached up to remove her surgical cap. Light brown hair spilled downward, straight and shiny, the ends resting just above her collar bones, her dark brown eyes large and expressionless. I tried to discover even just the tiniest flicker of emotion that would tell me whether things had gone well or, not well, but failed miserably. Those dark eyes scanned the room until they came to rest on me, and I rose from my spot on the couch as she began to walk toward me. She held out her right hand.

“Mrs. Hiddleston, I’m Doctor Anya Salinas.” I wanted to return the gesture but found myself incapable of making my arm move. I was paralyzed with fear, both anxiously awaiting and dreading the words that would come next. The hand moved upward, eventually gently gripping my left bicep. “Your husband is out of surgery, and while we’re going to be watching him very closely over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, I see no reason why he shouldn’t recover fully from his injuries.”

Around me were cries of thank god and gasps of relief, and I could see in my peripheral vision hugging and kissing and back clapping as I sat back down on the couch, the black spots appearing before my eyes alerting me to the fact that I was probably going to pass the fuck out again. I leaned forward and put my head between my knees, and I could hear Dr. Salinas asking me if I was okay, but her voice sounded like it was coming from another room. I felt hands on my shoulders, and I lifted my head to find her face directly in front of mine. She’d squatted down in order to connect with me, her eyes attentive and very kind, and I realized this was the person who had just worked tirelessly for hours on end to save Tom’s life, the person who had given me back the other half of my very self, and given him the chance to be a father to our child. I sat up, still slightly dizzy, and placed my right hand on top of hers, which was still resting on my left shoulder.

“Dr. Salinas. Thank you. Thank you.” My tears this time were those of relief and gratefullness, and I knew no matter which additional words I spoke, they would never be quite enough so I repeated the two that seemed to convey things most simply one more time, my voice almost a whisper. “Thank you.”

She smiled softly, nodding. “He’s in recovery now. Before you see him…mainly before he’s awake, actually…there are a few things I’d like to discuss with you, if you’re up to it.”

Was I up to it? Who the fuck knew, but this human-turned-fainting-goat was willing to do whatever was necessary in order to get in that recovery room, even if it meant they’d need to schlep my ass there in a wheelchair. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Okay.” She stood, and I did as well, surprised at how I towered over her. “Does walking and talking work for you, or should I clear the room so we have some privacy?”

“Walking, please.” I hadn’t been paying attention to anything that was going on around us, and that continued as I followed her to the door and out into the hallway. Her pace was slow, possibly because she was physically spent, but most likely for my benefit. She handed me a small container of orange juice, which she must have snagged off the cart on the way out of the waiting room.

“This should help with your blood sugar levels.” I thanked her, and again she nodded without saying ‘you’re welcome’, instead getting right down to business. “If at any time I’m making you uncomfortable, let me know. If you need to take a break, of if you need to sit down and rest, we can do that. Your husband is likely to remain unconscious for at least another forty-five minutes. I was the on-call surgeon today, and I was already here when he arrived…they always bring us in quickly for potential mass-casualty incidents. From what I’ve been told the paramedics had restrained him, but he broke free in the ER and tried to get away. They got him back under control, and as soon the ER doc examined him and diagnosed a pneumothorax we started getting things ready in the OR. Normally a sedative would have been administered, but since the need for surgery seemed imminent we wanted to avoid it if at all possible. Whoever sent the nurse back to us with word you were okay…that made all the difference.” She paused as we turned a corner. “Still with me?”

I nodded, sipping the juice through the absurdly tiny straw I’d pulled off the back of the box.

“There were no exit wounds, which meant the bullets needed to be located and removed and any damage repaired. We discovered that the cause of the collapsed lung wasn’t actually due to projectile penetration, which is what we expected to find, but instead a small tear that resulted from a rib broken upon impact as the bullet entered just below the pectoral muscle. Typically, it would take hours, sometimes even days, for a lung to collapse fully from a tear that size, but the intense level of physical activity Mr. Hiddleston experienced after being wounded escalated the process. We removed the damaged rib to avoid further injury, inflated both lungs fully using a chest tube, applied a doxycycline treatment to aid adhesion of the right lung to the chest wall, then removed the bullet and repaired damaged tissue. The wound just above the pectoral muscle had no muscle or tendon involvement, but a nick in the interior thoracic artery caused a significant amount of blood loss and necessitated the administration of two pints of donor blood. The chest tube will be in place for at least four days, and upon removal the incision will be stitched closed. There will be some scarring, of course, but the extent is always dependent upon genetic inheritance and immune response so I can’t really predict an outcome along those lines.”

Dr. Salinas stopped, and upon seeing that the door to our right read ‘Recovery Room A-1’ I took a step toward it. She shifted, placing a hand on my forearm to halt my progress. “Mrs. Hiddleston, most patients who experience a near double-lung collapse…well, let’s just say they don’t usually fare this well. I’m sure Mr. Hiddleston’s exceptional level of overall physical fitness is a significant factor, but…this is difficult for me to say, as a physician…I honestly can’t explain why he’s not in ICU right now. Not scientifically. His blood oxygen was so low he shouldn’t have been conscious, but his blood pressure leveled off at 80 over 50 and his heart rate remained steady the entire time, an even 55 BPM, and it never skipped a single beat. I’m going to be evaluating every step for quite some trying to find an answer, that’s a certainty. One more thing before we go inside…now, he knew prior to surgery that you were alive, but anesthesia can cause patients to temporarily lose memories of what happened immediately prior to being put under. This is a concern because if he regains consciousness and is still under the impression that you are not alive, he may react negatively and the potential for a re-collapse of the lung is very high at this stage. The nurse-anesthetist is inside, and he’ll help you…”

Her head cocked to one side, listening, and what began as quiet murmuring quickly turned to loud talking, and even though it was hoarse and muted by the door between us, there was no mistaking whom the voice belonged to. Tom. He’d cranked up the decibels to the the point that I could now clearly make out what he was saying.

“NO! Why am I here? I don’t want to be here. She’s gone. I told you to let me die. Why didn’t you let me die? I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE.”

I pulled away from Dr. Salinas, pushed the door inward and was at his bedside before her or the nurse-anesthetist could utter a single word. His eyes were wild, full of agony and despair, and he was attempting to sit up when I reached down and took his left hand in mine, squeezing hard. He yanked it away and began clawing at the nasal canula, so lost inside himself and left confused by the drugs they’d administered that he had not the faintest idea who I was. I leaned forward and grabbed him by the jaw, and when his eyes met mine I thought for sure he was going to hit me…but I refused to let go, instead using all the power I could channel to force him to look at me and nothing else. I saw anxiety, then rage, followed by bewilderment, shock and, finally, recognition. The fingers of his left hand grazed my wrist, and as they connected with my rings he glanced downward, then back up at me. His expression conveyed that he wanted to believe but couldn’t quite bring himself to trust in what he was experiencing…not completely. I released his jaw and brought his hand to my lips, kissing it softly, having difficulties of my own in regard to believing that this was genuine, that he was here, and that he was alive. His voice was little more than a whisper when he spoke, and his words made my soul ache for him.

“I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost both of you. It was the end. Of everything.” A pause, and when I saw his sorrow shift to panic as he said the word ‘both’ I shook my head and interjected, hoping to keep him calm. The word of the day…calm. Keep calm and carry on, in spite of the beast within who wanted nothing more than to kill Claudia over and over again for what she’d done, like Dormammu and Doctor Strange. I leaned in close to his face until our foreheads were touching.

“I’m here. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. We’re okay. It’s okay.” He began to cry, and I nuzzled his cheek. “I know you’re upset, and confused, and that shit is FUBAR right now, but I need you to try and relax, my love. Be still. You have to give your body a chance to heal, and the more relaxed you are, the faster that will happen. I’m here, I’m fine, the baby’s fine…and you’re going to be fine, too.”

He was at peace briefly, scarcely more than a minute or two passing before I felt him tense up again. “Maude. It’s not safe. She’ll come back. She won’t stop until…”

Pulling back from him, I followed his eyes as they darted back and forth, then reached out to grasp his chin again, though far more gently this time around. “We’re safe. She’s dead, Tom. Claudia’s dead.”

“She is? Are you sure?”

The scene from the hotel hallway invaded my inner space, and I nodded. “Saw it with my own two eyes. Trust me, she is NOT coming back. For me, for you, for anyone. Ever. Okay?”

“Okay.” A tear tracked downward from the outer corner of his left eye and landed on the sheet beneath his head. “I’m sorry you saw. But I’m glad she’s gone. I love you.”

“And I love you. Don’t be sorry. I’m glad too. Which seems to be my default setting when people die lately. What that says about me, I don’t know…that my moral compass is a roulette wheel, maybe?”

He smiled…a teeny, tiny, itty-bitty smile, and it was one of the most beautiful smiles I’d ever had the good fortune to witness. Dr. Salinas witnessed it as well, from a distance, and realized we’d turned a corner. She joined me at Tom’s bedside to let him know she’d be checking in on him later in the day, and that Gerald, the nurse-anesthetist, would help him with some breathing exercises. We both thanked her, and I though I released Tom’s hand so I wasn’t in the way, I remained where I was while Gerald raised the head of the bed and had Tom breathe into a meter repeatedly until it reached an acceptable level. Once that was over and done with, we were advised that the staff was readying a private room and a team would be in to move Tom when it was good to go. Gerald showed me how to use the emergency call button, just in case, and then left us alone. A minute later he was back, a Ziploc bag in hand that contained Tom’s phone, his iPod, and his wedding ring. He passed it off to me, smiled, then left without another word. Tom frowned.

“I didn’t want them to take that off. I think I may have raised a bit of a ruckus over it.”

I undid the slide zip and fished the ring out of the bag, hooking it on my right index finger. He lifted up his left hand, then rested it on the bed’s side guardrail, too exhausted to hold it aloft. Another tiny smile greeted me when my gaze met his.

“Will you put that back where it belongs for me, please?”

“You betcha.” I slipped it onto his ring finger, a soft sigh escaping him as he took hold of my hand.

“Much better. Thank you.”

His eyes closed, and I ran my thumb back and forth across his wrist, the constant beeping of monitoring equipment the only sound in the room, tethering me to the present, driving home what had happened and how our lives hand changed so quickly in the blink of an eye, and how lucky we’d been that the change was this and not something else.

“Maude.”

His voice startled me, so much so that I twitched with such violence that my feet nearly left the floor, which set alarm bells ringing in my head and caused me to assume something had gone terribly awry while I wasn’t paying attention.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Should I call someone?”

He squeezed my hand, now-open eyes full of concern. “I’m fine. Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I smiled. “It’s okay. I’m, like, jangly. Sorry for overreacting.”

He smiled softly in return. “It’s okay. I’m sorry you’re jangly.”

My left eyebrow rose as my smile turned to a smirk. “Well, someone’s going for gold in the Apology Olympics.”

“Please allow me to apologize for my intensely competitive nature, Mrs. Hiddleston.” And with that, I knew he was fully here again, and though I’d been saying it to myself all morning and to him since he’d woken up, I finally believed…everything was going to be okay. The future, our future, was visible again. Not in a Miss Cleo way, but in a we’ll heal, we’ll move forward, we’ll get through this way. The only guarantee life comes with is that it eventually ends…but now wasn’t the time for that. Not for us. Not today. And I wondered if there was a way to express my gratitude for such a gift, the gift of time…and when I felt Tom’s fingers turning my wedding ring in circles as I had in the waiting room as I sat unsure of whether or not I’d ever see him alive again, the answer to my question was blatantly obvious. The answer was…live.

He bit his lip, his own left eyebrow far higher than the right, then spoke again. “This ceaseless beeping is driving me mad. I don’t suppose I could coax a song out of you as a distraction, could I?”

“No coaxing required.” I took his iPod out of the Ziploc, turned it on, then scrolled to find the song that had come to mind. I put one earbud in my my right ear, the other in his left and hit play – Deathcab For Cutie’s Soul Meets Body.

I want to live where soul meets body And let the sun wrap its arms around me and Bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing And feel Feel what it's like to be new

'Cause in my head there's a Greyhound station Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations So they may have a chance of finding a place where they're Far more suited than here

I cannot guess what we'll discover When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels But I know our filthy hands can wash one another's And not one speck will remain

I do believe it's true That there are roads left in both of our shoes But if the silence takes you Then I hope it takes me too

So brown eyes I'll hold you near 'Cause you're the only song I want to hear A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

We both wept quietly after I finished singing along, still holding hands, me leaning down and in so our cheeks touched. I wanted nothing more than to climb into his hospital bed and hold him, to feel him against me and hear his heart beating, to inhale the scent of his warm skin, and never, ever let him go. But this, this limited contact…it was what we had for the moment, and something I might have been permanently deprived of if things had gone differently, so it would do. It would absofuckingloutely do.

#your light in the mist #chapter 47

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drake-the-incubus · 3 years

Text

I’ve been seeing a post lately on how the “sleeping and eating well, showering and going for a jog things aren’t meant to cure, but are an improvement and I’m appalled.

Like, no, in its own form, those things for improvement are meant to cure. Even if they’re meant for improvement, improvement of mood is a cure of depression I’m so sorry. But most people DO mean it as a cure.

And I can say from lived experience I’m less depressed not forcing myself to do things to be “healthy and happy” than I was doing that all the time. Am I physically worse off for it? Yeah. But part of the reason is, my depression’s cause actively fights half of those activities.

I’m depressed because I’m Autistic. But let’s go back. At 14 to sixteen, I was extremely depressed. At 18 I had my worst depressive episode.

At these times I was;

- forced to keep clean

- forced to eat healthily

- was fairly active willingly

- went to multiple clubs and activities

- engaged in media in a way to help my brain develop

Like, I still would do these things, but here’s what drains my energy to the point where I stop functioning;

- keeping clean. I... I don’t know how to explain to everyone I meet that keeping clean means I can’t do other things. It takes too many spoons and puts me in a foul mood, so I usually do it at the end of the day. I also never feel clean and end up injuring myself because I can’t feel clean.

- Eating healthily. This one is more of a financial issue? I spend like 1200 or more on bills and non-food necessities. So I can’t afford good food, not to mention my only fridge is a mini-fridge and my tap water makes me want to throw up. I also have extreme paranoia of running out of food so I can’t get myself to consistently eat. And making meals means I have to make more dishes, which is a task that drains my spoons and I can’t eat.

- I’m still active. It’s pacing/walking and keeps me in fairly good shape as it takes up a majority of my day. This risks me getting in severe amounts of pain because my knees hate me!

- I don’t go to clubs or activities because I don’t go to school anymore and I can’t find any that cater to me. I’m Autistic and LGBT+, my interests will throw me with Cis men, and a majority of the province I’ve met so far have been transphobic, and I can’t stealth because of my voice. In fact being misgendered causes me so much distress I try not to run into people. It was deemed unsafe to hold pride last year in the capital because of the transphobia and other issues going on. So yeah! Nothing like the added stress.

- Engaging with media that strengthens your brain is tiring and sometimes I want to just shut my brain off.

I have other multiple issues, like PTSD, OSDD-1b and other major issues I’m not going to go through, but the point is, these don’t assist me in being less depressed, because my depression is a symptom.

I can do these things, and it can help me physically feel better, but cost mental health that I’m not willing to give up.

Things that I’ve actively come to realize do help my mental health;

- Alone time. A lot of it. I’m introverted and being near people drains my spoons, it’s energy consuming.

- Fun snacks and treats for myself. A reward system makes life feel less shitty.

- Figuring out my issues and treating them.

- Setting minor goals I can accomplish

And I did this on my own because I realized CBT didn’t work on me, and made me worse off. Specifically because at the time, my therapist’s advice was to “just do your thing and ignore your father” and my father was abusive and a huge source of my mental health issues.

But that’s genuinely sound advice for other people, just NOT me.

And so is the above! It’s good to exercise, to clean yourself, to eat and sleep properly. This is used to treat acute depression and it works. Same as putting yourself into a new environment.

But the problem isn’t that people who say, “thanks I’m cured” are wrong, it’s that this is shoved down their throats and it doesn’t help them. Improving your quality of life is ACTUALLY not the most important step.

Recognizing why and how you have depression is.

Let’s not talk about how I’ve been told the above will help my autism- by a therapist no less who wouldn’t actually research into my autism to assist me- and how these steps never improved my quality of life but ruined them because I had other more important factors.

And I’m not saying that the advice isn’t sound, it is! If you can manage these things, please do so, because poor physical health CAN deteriorate your mental health.

But people with PTSD and ADHD are not going to benefit from “sleep hygiene”. Specifically because these posts are just said at face value and no one knows what the fuck it means.

Which pisses me off, because like,

A) what worked for your mental health is not applicable to someone else, my friend and I need different things. One of those things is my friend cannot be completely alone, it fucks them up mentally, I need the isolation otherwise I fucking lose it.

B) Comorbidity is high with depression. Particularly, people who are Neurodivergent, Traumatized, or have physical disorders tend to end up also with depression. It’s usually caused by untreated issues or struggling to fit in to society with these issues. If you can’t fix that, then you can’t assist them.

C) Improvement isn’t going to make “people’s lives so much better”. That’s... Okay let’s talk about something. Improvement means your mental health goes up a bit, but recovery isn’t linear and focussing on these traits as “helpful, can assist immensely” without mentioning that your mental health is going to tank again, just less severe as before and if you don’t track it, you’ll 5ink you’re not recovering, is actually anti-recovery.

Which I want to underline, promoting things for “recovery” while not being a licensed specialist, and not warning for the fact that someone is going to feel better and then feel bad again in a vacillating manner, is anti-recovery. You’re setting someone up to sabotage themselves. Someone is going to look at your condescending post and if it works, and then they feel like shit, they’re going to blame themselves.

But your little spicy posts on how saying, “thanks I’m cured” is anti-recovery and it’s not about curing people, doesn’t WORK if you leave out the narrative of people telling us that this cures us.

You’re erasing the narrative on why people react that way to make them seem anti-recovery, and no, these people genuinely want assistance, they’re just fucking tired of the same bullshit without substance and you’re an idiot.

If I’m allowed to tell my step-father to fuck off for unsolicited mental health advice, I’m allowed to tell a random stranger on the net with a post devoid of actual advice to also fuck off.

So, TDLR;

Mental health is very tricky and while physically taking care of yourself can help, it’s not actually sound advice. There’s more to recovery than that and it’s fairly anti-recovery in itself as it never addresses how recovery is about feeling better and feeling bad again because mental health is a bitch.

No one should be making sweeping statements on what assists with depression or other disorders, and everything should be posited as, “this may not work” and should definitely have a disclaimer of, “if it does work and then stops working that’s a process of recovery, and continue doing it as you would take your meds to settle in”.

What are my credentials?

- Psychology as a special interest and career path.

- 4 years of medical fuckery with recovery before I broke off until I can actively find someone to assist me and get the rest of my diagnoses’.

- I’ve lived this. Genuinely lived this issue, and know other people to. This comes from years of knowing depressed people who have other disorders and are marginalized.

Final Note; Please take care of yourselves as best as possible, do what’s within your means and don’t put yourself down for struggling. Try new coping mechanisms out if you see them, to see how your mood is after a bit.

Remember your mental health is important, but figuring out what does and doesn’t work takes practice, and recovery is never linear. Let yourself fall again, because climbing back isn’t going to slowly get easier.

#mental health #depression #why do I have the sinking feeling someone is going to see this and be upset over it

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