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somejazzinthemorning · 1 year

Text

tightrope. 06

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: ~8.1K Previous chapter: 05.

Again, the path to the airport was waiting for me. Bags packed at my feet and with them the unsettling feeling of not knowing what was reserved ahead. Seven days were the minimum we had agreed on. Ana had called me twice after dinner to make sure I was going and at the end of the second call, I was won over by her good persuasion tactics and handed her the victory. Hours later, she texted me the ticket.

I didn’t know what to expect. To be fair, I didn’t remember the last time I spent more than a couple of hours with the Sainzes. Time made the memories of summer and winter vacations vague, only smears of memories habiting in my mind — and the ones that remained more solid had a boy with big hazel eyes as the main character and nothing much more important happening in the background.

They were waiting for us at the airport in a disorganized semi-circle near the entrance. Carlos didn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation his sisters and their boyfriends were engaged in. Rio pointed at them, not noticing my attention was already drawn to the small group standing ahead of us. My brother waved at Carlos and he waved back.

A black backpack rested on his back, which was covered by a white t-shirt. His hair was pulled back, being held by his sunglasses, keeping it from sliding over his forehead. I rested my gaze on his face and allowed myself a second to observe him. Everything about him reminded me of the last time we'd travelled together, especially his tired eyes, sunken in their sockets, beneath which were dim shadows.

The hollow sound of my footsteps and the ruck of the wheels on my suitcase filled my mind as I asked myself one single question — what am I getting myself into?

One week (or more if work allowed) with him and our friends. That was the premise. I kept repeating it in my mind. Just one week. See the sun rise from under the Mediterranean Sea and watch it set over the beach. Late nights in clubs and lazy lunches by the pool. Long dinners in the yacht, under the golden hue of the sunset.

Somewhat of a dream, but one where we would have to share ourselves with each other again. And I was afraid of the feelings it could spark. I had just told him I didn't trust him enough to be his friend, knowing damn well I wanted him on a deeper level than that.

The first thing that crossed my mind was that I shouldn’t be here, but my body, acting on a will of its own, started walking in his direction. He had his eyes on me but didn’t say or do anything until I reached the semi-circle.

“You came,” he said, not too loud, when I approached them. The rest of the group only became aware of our presence after Carlos’ intervention.

“I told you she was going to come, no?” Rio came forward and greeted Carlos with one of their handshakes and a fast hug. Marjorie kissed his cheek and Carlos politely asked her about our drive to the airport and mocked my brother for making Marjorie carry her bags. She didn’t let Carlos take them.

Trying to escape him, I walked over to Ana. She led the way to the boarding gate, making me accompany her while she told me about work and about a book I had recommended to her a couple of months ago. At each stage of the journey, the group met. The topics of conversation were diverse: football, movies, a new series that Marjorie had just started watching and was desperate to talk about – anything but the Formula 1 season that had just come to its halfway point and hadn't been very kind to Carlos. No one seemed to want to address the last race before the break, which had gone much worse than mine. Hungary had been bad. Austria had been much worse.

I couldn’t take the images of the flames and the heart-grutching radio from my mind. No matter what had happened since then.

“You need to see what we did with the place,” Blanca said when she caught up to me on our way to the boarding gate. “When was the last time you went there?”

“2020?” I was not totally sure. My memories seemed lost in time. “Perhaps 2019?”

Despite being a Monday in August, the airport was not too crowded. It was just after 10 am when we arrived at the boarding gate. Only a handful of people were standing in line to get on the plane. And everything felt normal. A group of old friends travelling. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“You’re too tense,” Ana commented, interrupting Blanca that was filling me up on a few changes they had done in their Mallorca house during the pandemic when they spent long periods there since it was hard (and not so safe) travel to other places. “Is it us or do you still hate flying?”

I knew that by “us” she meant Carlos. Things had gotten weird after our last talk at my mom’s party. It seemed like both of us changed from water to wine in minutes. Cold looks, an awkwardness every time we were forced to be together with the rest of the group. Perhaps that was what I was afraid of—not being able to simply be close, like a friend, without feeling all my feelings in the depths of my skin, turning it into goosebumps every time he looked at me. I looked back for a second, trying to get a glimpse of the group that was following us.

“Both, I think.”

Ana was the one with whom I had a stronger friendship. Blanca was a few years older than us; she had different interests and friends of her own, so it was only natural that I spent more time with Ana, especially growing up.

From the two families and friends, I believe she was the only one to understand how much I liked Carlos. Ana didn’t care when I visited her at their house and got distracted looking out the window to see Carlos playing football in the garden. She also never said anything about how I used to get completely jumbled up my words whenever he banged on her door to ask for small favours or to just mess with her.

She watched me slowly fall in love with her brother and then she watched us drift apart.

“He’s still the same, you know?” Ana got closer to me, taking advantage of the fact that Blanca stayed behind to wait for the rest of the group. “Maybe just got a bit more handsome now.”

I chuckled at her words and there was no time to answer as the group was fast to catch up to us. Carlos, who was leading the way, was the first to complain.

“You two are in a hurry.”

“A week into summer break and you have already lost your speed?” Ana replied, making the group react with a short laugh.

“Vacaciones son vacaciones,” he mumbled as he put an arm around her shoulders and dragged Ana with him. “Stop rushing. We have time to spare.”

“I wouldn’t need to rush if you didn’t—”

Carlos planted his hand over her sister’s hand, laughing at her. “We were the first to arrive here.”

“We have two babies!” Marjorie screamed from behind. “We have an excuse to be late.”

As we approached the boarding gate, my heart started to race. The plane was awaiting us at the other side of the bridge—I could see it through the window. I made my way over in silence, with a nervous smile on my face and ignored the anxiety making my head full of terrible thoughts and childish fears. The moment I stepped on the plane, I felt a rush taking over my heart. No matter how many times I’d flown before, every time was the same.

“Where are you sitting?” Carlos asked me, looking back as we crossed the hallway.

I checked the ticket on my phone and then looked at the numbers. Fifth row, middle seat. Awful. I mentally cursed Ana for booking that terrible seat for me.

“Right there," I said, pointing my head to the seats. “In the middle.”

“Do you prefer the window?”

“Where are you sitting?” I asked. He pointed with his head to the same row. Ana, behind Carlos, was grinning. Fair, I thought. She didn’t have to know about how… weird things were between us. Neither I wanted her to know. At his request, I handed him my luggage, which he stored next to his.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” I think his smile made the anxiety worse to bear.

I lowered myself into the window seat, shaking my head. “Of course not.”

“Good,” Carlos sat next to me. His arm rested on the armrest between us. “Close your eyes, then. Try to sleep.”

He put on one of his AirPods. It didn’t take long until Rio called for his name and he turned his back to me to answer my brother, sitting across from us. I looked outside the window. The moments until the take-off were torturous, but happily, Carlos was too distracted to notice my distress. To my surprise, the take-off was fairly smooth. As always, I tried to not look outside and failed miserably. I took a deep breath, looked ahead at the tops of the heads peaking out of the seats and just like that we were smooth sailing between the clouds. I closed my eyes. I could use a few minutes of sleep.

My heart thumped as the pilot’s voice crackled in the speakers and the plane shook slightly, and then a little more violently. I opened my eyes, my head hurting from being awakened that way, my pulse quickening and blood rushing in my ears. My hand rushed to the seat belt. It was tightened.

“Now you’re nervous, I imagine,” Carlos’ lips curled in a tiny smile and I rolled my eyes in response.

I grasped the armrest for dear life. My other palm pressed into my thighs. In my mind, a TikTok video about jello and planes was looping. It won’t fall. I kept reminding myself of that. Carlos’ fingertips brushed the back of my hand and he retracted them almost immediately. My breath caught. My heart clenched. Not particularly because of the turbulence.

“Maybe a little,” I didn’t take his hand but didn’t move mine, either. I looked down, at his fingers hovering above my hand. Then, I looked up. “Are you?”

Carlos shook his head; from the way he was forcing a line with his lips, I could tell he was making an effort to not snort at my question. “It will be okay,” he tried to reassure. “And I’m right here, in case you need me.”

I just nodded. My eyes were closed and my head was turned toward the window. I had experienced worse, but each time it was a little living nightmare. I heard a little laugh coming from the man seated at my side.

“Don’t laugh at me, Sainz,” I snapped at him, turning to him. He had his sunglasses on his head and he was not using his AirPods anymore.

“I won’t. It’s just— how many times have you—” I interrupted him by flipping him off. “I’ll stop. Are you okay?”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Carlos laid his hand on top of my arm and brushed his thumb on my skin, so slowly that I had to look down for a second to be sure it was real. Once again, I nodded.

“It’s just that I hate these flying cages,” he let out a little laugh, again. I couldn’t hold mine.

“You are a racing driver, Eva,” there was a stupid smile on his face.

“Last time I checked, I don’t race aircraft ten thousand meters in the air.”

“But you can crash and get hurt…”

“My point prevails.” His smile kept growing, and at the same time, my grip on the armrest got looser. “Even if I crash, I won’t be crashing from this altitude.”

He shook his head, a big smile on his lips. From the pocket of his t-shirt, he took out his AirPods and handed me one. Then, he took his phone out of the pocket of his shorts.

“Sinatra?” I asked after he pressed play on the music. He nodded, as he relaxed his back and laid his head on the headrest.

“I thought you would like to hear this,” he looked at me, head against the headrest, his hair messy on the top of his head.

“That’s Life? I could use something more reassuring.”

His chest shook with laughter, “Will you ever get less weird?”

“You’re the one picking the music,” I fought back, raising my eyebrow.

“And you are the one that made me listen to this in the first place. Now you have to put up with it.” His eyes dropped to the phone and shortly after Fly Me To The Moon started playing.

“You’re so predictable, Sainz.”

“What?” He chuckled. “It’s a great song.”

“Is it, indeed,” at this point, both of us were laughing, and I was not sure why. “Is it just so you to play it right now. That sense of humour of yours…”

“Don’t complain. It always makes you smile,” he pointed at my lips. “See?”

But as I looked into his eyes—those brown eyes that always seemed to see right through me—I started to feel like maybe there was something more to Carlos Sainz than just a silly sense of humour, a love for Sinatra and the awful amount of bad feelings. There was something else behind his eyes that made me want to trust him, even though I had no reason to do so.

He grinned at me, a lazy, satisfied smile. None of us needed to say anything, but I think he gathered something from the smile my lips formed. It was so easy when we were alone. With the music sounding in my ear, making us dwell in the same frequency, I quickly forgot the things I had said to him a few days earlier. We hadn’t spoken since that moment at the party and even if we did, I really doubted it would be of any use, as there weren’t words I could say that would resolve the confusion meddling in my head.

So much was happening. So fast.

The past and the future crashed together and scattered debris everywhere, sending me into eternal dark spirals of thought which I couldn’t seem to get rid of.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and for his thumb to stop brushing my skin. I wondered about the origin of the dark sockets under his eyes, of what had taken his sleep last night. Above them, the perfect line of his lashes and the relaxed brows grabbed my attention next. An expression of tranquillity. I forced myself to look away as if it was a sin to delight in such a view.

I tried to focus on the vast white that stretched below us towards the horizon, but the weight of his hand on my arm made it impossible to focus on anything but him. I looked down, taking in the sight of his hand resting on my arm, his fingers slightly apart.

The turbulence had long since passed, but he didn’t let go.

The weather in Mallorca was better than in Madrid. We left the airport in two cars, windows open and music blaring on the radio. Carlos drove and Rio followed with him in front. Marjorie tried to sing along with the music on the radio, forcing a Spanish accent that despite the years she'd lived in Spain, she still hadn't perfected.

The house was in a private village on the east of the island. I had been there and the route was not totally a blur from the last visits. It was usual to visit them here, especially during the summer holidays, when Rio and I were often invited by the Sainz to come and stay for a few days, with or without our parents. In our early adult years, Reyes and Carlos Sr. chose to stay in Madrid for the first few days, letting us enjoy the island alone.

“This place looks amazing!” Marjorie exclaimed when we parked the car. There was a good view of the sea and the house itself looked like a little paradise on the Mediterranean coast.

Carlos chuckled over her unfiltered enthusiasm and gave me a small pat on the shoulder as he walked past me to get the luggage out of the trunk. I went to help him as Rio took his wife on a short visit around the outside and the rest of the group hadn’t arrived yet.

The house was even more beautiful on the inside. I really needed to step out of my own reality and I realized that place was the right choice the second I looked at the view and absorbed the peaceful atmosphere being brought inside by the big windows, the amount of natural light, the furniture and its soft earthy tones.

“Better than you remember, no?” Carlos asked, proudly, with a smile reigning on his lips. “It’s all Ana and Blanca’s work, they did everything.”

Rio came inside with Marjorie shortly after. Meanwhile, I just walked around the lower floor, recollecting the floor plan that I realized I hadn’t forgotten. When I got back to the living room, the rest of the gang was already there. Blanca and her boyfriend, Guillermo, headed upstairs.

I was then taken by Ana on an official tour of the house. The office was near the living room and had a nice view of the pool and the sea, which I knew would make my work hours a lot harder than I wanted them to be. My room was upstairs, the second door on the left.

That first day was the most peaceful of the week we spent there. We didn’t leave the house. I can’t remember much, as the memories congealed into a cluster of laughter and slow-motion visions of jumps into the sea and tanned wet bodies resting under the sun. That night, Blanca cooked for us. We ate outside, surrounded by the tall trees around the house perimeter and the darkness of the night, which stopped us with ease from caring about the reality we left on the other side of the gate. Only a few memories remained from the dinner — the contour of people’s smiles, heads thrown back amongst the laughs, the taste of the sangria and how easy it was to fall asleep that night.

On the first morning, I went for a jog. For the first time in a while, I had all the time in the world and an unknown road ahead. And it might sound a bit too poetic, but the resemblance to my own life made me clear out some ideas and make a handful of promises to myself.

The roads unrolled themselves like a map once forgotten in time. At every turn, I would find a collage composed of new and old buildings, painted on unsaturated reds and oranges, as the sun was settling in the firmament. With it being so early in the morning, I couldn’t hear much more than the birds and the sea that lazily kissed the rocks of the coast.

When I stepped inside, the house was still enveloped in deep silence. It was early, not even 8 am. A shower, a quick breakfast and a morning behind the desk. That was the plan.

There was a shelf in the office.

A few racing helmets filled the spaces between the books. I was not counting on finding much memorabilia around here, since I expected it would be stored in their Madrid house or Carlos’ apartment in Milan, but there it was. Two of them were rally helmets, belongings of Carlos Sainz Sr. The other three were Carlos’. On the bottom stood one from his Toro Rosso era, in display on top of Adrian Newey’s How to Build a Car. On the top, a scaled version of one of Carlos’ Ferrari helmets. And in the centre, like it was put there to catch my attention, one of his McLaren helmets.

The beginning of the end.

I couldn’t help but take a step towards it and take a closer look. I took it in my hands. I could see my reflection in the chrome, wondering how many memories this house could wake up in me, how many pieces of us were scattered around the place. It had happened so slowly and so gradually that, looking back, I can't find a milestone from which to draw a before and an after. Maybe those two years were that point. There was a before, where no part of me imagined there wouldn't be an after. There was a during when there was still hope. Less and less, each day, but still there. And now there is an after, which we live desperately trying to elapse three and a half years.

I just needed to keep crossing the rope, head held high. One foot after the other.

As I sat on the desk, ready to get a start on the day, the front door opened. The silence of the house made it easy to hear the steps and the hum of a melody I didn’t recognize. I looked at the door I had left open. The sound of the steps got gradually louder, until a man passed by the office. Carlos, in his black shorts. No shirt — of course, no shirt. A fitness band around his chest.

Not resisting the forces that commanded me effortlessly, I looked over to the window to find him stepping down the stones that lead to the lower area of the garden. I watched him as he took his shoes off and took the fitness band off his torso. His sweaty skin glistened under the sun, his hair was already wet and messy. At his pace, he dove into the pool.

I tried to focus on the laptop’s loading screen, but my eyes kept travelling to the man floating in the water and back to the helmets in front of me.

The day flowed with ease and even when it invited me to take a dip in the warm waters of the Mediterranean, I resisted and didn't leave the office during the day. However, every corner of that house transported me into a limbo between joy and sorrow, which I didn't want to deal with, especially not while working. I tried to ignore all connections to the past and that amounted to ignoring Carlos, even though my eyes were looking for him every moment.

Fortunately, the house was big enough that we could live in our own universes without tripping over any of the lines we had silently agreed to. Our conversation at the end of the dinner party acted like an unspoken agreement and even if he broke it on the flight, we both seemed to forget about that interaction. We went back to the people we were before Mugello — the distant strangers whose paths crossed by chance and were forced to coexist.

Though I was happy about it, knowing how much I feared what the intimacy might trigger in me, I wondered what was making him keep his distance. Was he just being respectful or did the weight of my words create a barrier that no force could break down? Did he think I hated him? Or did he see what was going on inside my mind and decided he didn’t want to take part in it?

I could swear to God those eyes and the touch of his lips were capable of ridding my mind of any shackles and protective casings. All he needed to do was ask, looking deeply into my eyes, and I would tell him my truth. The one I’m ashamed to even admit to myself. That I’ve wanted him so much, for so long, that I’m afraid to make him see it, let alone feel it.

But he seemed happy in his world, where the only things that mattered were his friends, the sea and the sun. I, on the other hand, continued to be a hostage of my own thoughts.

When I left the office later that afternoon, I found the house invaded by a bunch of people whose faces I didn’t recognize. The kitchen was full of life and laughter. Blanca was talking to two blonde girls, Marjorie and Ana were outside talking to a couple. And Carlos… well, Carlos was being his best self, entertaining the crowd. As I approached them, sitting at the table, I realized they were talking about Formula 1.

I stopped a few meters from them, not wanting to intrude, but as I tried to find a way to go back inside and try to find my brother and use him as a shield to avoid unwanted social interactions, Carlos found me in the small crowd of people. With a motion of his head, he invited me to come closer and join the group and I walked over, Carlos found me a chair and dragged it to his side. There was no choice but to sit next to him at the edge of the table and face a dozen strangers staring at us; at least one of them, blonde and tall with a particular medal around his neck, was polite enough to grab me a beer. I found Rio sitting among the guests.

“—and so, when I was about to go on track, I told the guy: ‘I’m not going to be able to do a single flying lap with this’. He just looked at me and said: ‘You’ll be surprised, my man’. So I went out and did a 1’21”. Can you believe it? A 1’21” with a fucked up gearbox!”

“The poor man couldn’t believe his eyes,” my brother joined him. “We spent two hours around that thing trying to understand what happened. Chili, my whole career was changed by that broken gearbox.”

Everyone laughed until a german accent overlapped the sound. “And what was with the gearbox?” The beer guy was German. Noted.

“Turns out the guy who drove it before was so shitty he didn’t know how to drive that car.” My brother explained. “And that gearbox? Yeah, it was fucked, but good or bad? All the same for him.”

I took a sip of the beer, my eyes directed at the other edge of the table where the German guy was now getting up from. He was a rally driver, the same age as Carlos. That was all I could gather. But he was funny, and the accent was attractive and his smile? I saw him walking up to me, the conversation flowing in the background, my brother now telling a story about Silverstone and Carlos’ win. As I put the beer down on the table and turned to my left ready to welcome The Guy, I felt a hand on my right thigh. I turned to Carlos, who slowly leaned towards me, eyes glued to something, someone, behind me.

“Real plays tonight. I forgot to tell you I invited a few people to watch the match with us.” I just nodded. He was now looking at me, his hand was weighing on my thigh. I wondered if he was waiting for me to do something. To move away, maybe.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. No problem.” And with that, he moved his hand away and leaned back on the chair.

When I turned to my left, The Guy was nowhere to be seen.

I looked around.

A few people. There were at least, twenty more people around the house, dispersed around the terrace. Half of them sitting with us at the table. Carlos paid attention to my brother for a few seconds before turning back to me again.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t.” I paused and forced a smile; he frowned a bit. “Carlos. I don’t mind, really.”

“Good.” He grinned, the frown disappearing. That smile could disarm even the most trained soldier. “When I saw you getting here, I thought we disrupted your work.”

It’s not like I was able to pay any attention to it, I wanted to say.

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s all done for the day.”

Some tapas arrived from a bar nearby that Carlos had called in and the table was slowly taking shape. The small portions occupied every stop of the table, and in the small areas available, bottles of beer or wine were placed. A plate of Piquillo peppers, mozzarella and red peppers. A chip of garlic and a sliver of sheep cheese. The scent of garlic and olive oil filled the air, mixed with the aroma of grilled meat that Rodrigo prepared nearby.

When I sat down to eat, no one was already sitting in the places they were previously sitting at, although, Carlos stood in the chair by my side, back turned to me and facing his friends and the projection of the match on the wall ahead. The laughter became intense incoherent yelling, louder and the chink of silverware and the hissing of the burning wood, just some feet away.

Some of the people left the table while the game was still going on and took with them their plates and glasses of wine. The house was big, and so were the terrace and the backyard. Looking around, it felt peaceful. It was chaotic, I can’t lie, but something peaceful lay in the intense yelling and the comradery. I missed this.

Carlos’ English became non-existent. Both he and my brother screamed in Spanish, commending the tactics. I was not particularly paying attention. Not because I didn’t like football, but because I simply couldn’t make myself focus on the players when I was so aware of the man next to me, still smelling like the suncream and sea.

An Estrella Galicia appeared before me with drops of water sliding down the bottle. I turned to the man next to me, whose wet slender fingers were still around the bottle.

"You're not paying attention, are you?" Carlos said, taking the cap off the beer. Our fingers touched for a fraction of a second while I took the bottle in my hands.

“Spent way too many hours in front of a screen, today,” I had a sip. “My eyes are tired.”

“Take a day off, tomorrow,” once again, he leaned against his chair, with a second beer in his hand, from which he had a sip. “Try to enjoy the vacation.”

“It’s not properly vacation,” he scrunched his nose at my words.

“Eh, I didn’t think you would actually get some work done.”

“She’s a workaholic, Chili,” Rio said from his chair, not bothering to turn to us or even looking in our direction. “You won’t see her all week.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”

“So, you’ll join us tomorrow?” Carlos asked. “To be beach we were discussing at lunch?”

“I don’t know. I need to check my schedule.”

He took another sip, his lips twisting in a smile. “I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“She won’t say no,” Rio said. “Not to you.”

“Don’t be so convinced,” I told them.

A hint of disorientation but me as Rio turned back to the projection, but Carlos kept looking at me. Deep hazel eyes bulged into mine until the crowd and their exaggerated reactions to the goal stole his attention.

I saw him again the next morning.

I had woken up early as usual and although I had promised myself I would take a break from work and get some rest, I didn’t want to miss my morning routine. The sun was shining in through the window, casting a warm light over the room. The sea was calm and the sun was getting high in the sky.

Stepping down the stairs, I could hear nothing but the soft brush of the waves on the rocks outside, but as I reached the bottom of the stairs and headed to the door, I found him wearing orange shorts and a white t-shirt, bent over near the open door, tying his shoes. Getting back up, he looked behind him.

“You’re up early,” he said as he straightened up and put his cap on.

“Morning run, as always,” I explained, walking towards the door. He walked outside after me, closing the door behind us.

“I see,” he nodded and then silence fell upon us. Only the waves and the sound of our footsteps on the gravel could be heard for a few seconds. “We could go together,” his voice broke the silence and stretched in the air like a question that I wished he didn’t ask.

We stopped near the gate, my mind battling the idea while he opened it up and waited for me to pass. I could feel the closeness of his body and his breath on my shoulder as I passed between him and the gate.

“I was going to do some intervals.”

“I can do intervals.” He rushed to say. I just nodded. “You can just say you don’t want my company if that—”

“No, not at all.” I interrupted him and looked at my watch to start the program.

When I looked back at him, he was already running. Slowly, at first, but then he increased the pace and I had to run to catch up with him. We ran in silence for a while, our breathing falling into sync as we ran side by side. The sound of our footsteps, our breathing and the waves were the only things keeping us company. I was trying to keep my mind blank, but it was hard.

Every time I tried to empty my thoughts and focus on the road ahead, his face would appear in my peripheral vision, or he would point at a funny-shaped cloud or a pretty rock on the sea. Before noticing, I was completely out of the route I’d previously chosen for that morning. We had left the residential area and were now running on a dirt road by the sea.

“Where are we?” I asked, slowing my pace and looking around.

“Just keep running,” he said. “How much time left?”

I looked at the watch, “Little less than 5 minutes.” He just nodded.

“It’s enough to get there,” Carlos made a gesture with his hand, asking me to catch up to him again. “Vamos, don’t make me drag you up the hill.”

Slowly, we started to move away from the sea, following a trail on a small hill. Between the trees, the remnants of blue narrowed. My watch beeped just before we reached the highest point of the mountain and Carlos refused to stop and forbade me to do so. I would have complained if the effort of climbing such a steep path hadn't taken my breath away.

“Come on,” he said, holding my hand and pulling me up the last few meters. Warm and sweaty, but firm around my fingers. I looked up at him. “We’re almost there.”

As we reached the top, the blue widened in front of us, revealing an infinite horizon. The sea and the sky melted in a single shade of blue, in a single line that drew the limit between what was above and what was below. Some benches, made of stone, stood in the middle of a small clearing. Carlos let go of my hand and sat on the bench, motioning for me to do the same. I followed his gesture and sat down, my eyes still on the view in front of us.

“I like it here,” he said, after a few minutes of silence.

“It’s lovely,” I whispered, not taking my eyes off the view. The sun was high in the sky now and the heat was starting to be felt, even with the wind.

“You should see it at sunset,” he said. “It’s even better.��

The house was just a white patch among the green at the bottom of the hill. There was a sailboat crossing the sea in front of us and some jet skis creating foam paths in the deep blue. Our accelerated breaths, the sound of birds and the whistle of the wind were our only soundtrack.

It was like the world had stopped spinning and time had frozen in that moment of utter tranquillity. His hands were resting on the bench, his left hand between us. Mine was dangerously close to his, so close I thought I could feel his warmth spreading towards me—that unexplainable pull towards him.

A sensation that I dread with the same emotion that I welcomed. Peace and tranquillity walking side by side with fear like no other. We couldn’t part ways, again. I couldn’t bare to see him walk away and lose this feeling, again. I turned my head to face him, wondering if he felt the same. The sun kissed his already-tanned face; there was a faint rosy line under his eyes and on the top of his nose. His hair curled around the brim of the cap.

“You come here often?” I had to end the silence.

He faced me. “We came here yesterday. I think you were in a meeting. Marjorie said you couldn’t come.”

“Yeah, it was a last-minute call, couldn’t postpone it. But thank you for bringing me here.”

“Just wanna make sure you’re not losing the good parts of being here.”

“Carlos—”

“I’m not in the position to tell you what to do, but you—” he cut me off. I propped my elbows on my knees and after a deep breath, I rose back up.

“Yet you do,” this time it was me who cut him off. When I looked at him, his jaw was tense, eyes locked on his hands, holding the bench. “I have to work. I can’t just decide to not work. I told you before coming here.”

“You need guidance.”

“For work?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “For racing.”

“I have Rio and my dad—”

“Your dad?” His body turned to face me, eyes piercing through mine and meeting all the weaknesses I held inside. I would crumble at his feet if I didn’t look away. “Eva, listen.”

“I don’t—”

“Eva, listen,” Carlos said firmly. “Learn to listen. Stop being like this.”

“Like what?”

“So stubborn, when all I want to do is help. I know it was wrong to turn my back on you but I care about you. Always had.” He paused. “I can’t ignore that, and I know neither can you, but… listen. I just want to do what I couldn’t do until now.”

The duality of feelings was consuming me whole. My chest burning with questions, but not looking to find the answers. My throat aching. Lungs way past the point of their capacity. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Can we talk like grown-ups?” Carlos turned to me, once again.

“Sure,” his gaze softened the weight on my shoulders. “Go ahead.”

“Your dad wants to sell the team.”

Inside my mind, silence.

Around us, the wind made the leaves run on the floor against the grass, composing a low-frequency melody that made nothing to make me calmer. The weight fell back on my shoulders, the knot in my throat getting thigh with all the words I wasn’t able to say.

“How do you—?”

“My dad told me,” he paused. “Your father looks at numbers and follows them. Makes you follow them. And if you need more proof, you should have been the one in F3, not Rio. I love him, but you have more talent in a fingernail than that guy in his whole body.” Amid sorrow, my lips found a way to curve in a small smile, imitating his. “You have so much pot—”

“Don’t say potential.”

“Potential,” I rolled my eyes and he chuckled between his words. “It’s sad to see you stuck in The Challenge or a reserve seat.”

“I’m not stuck.”

“Eva, come on…”

“I can go anywhere else, I have proposals.”

“Why don’t you, then?”

“Because I don’t have that mentality or experience… I’m not you, or Rio. I race because I like it and because I found joy in doing it. But lately? With all these… talks and expectations? And covid, and having my seat in FRECA revoked out of nowhere... You know this takes more than driving the car.” I paused to take a deep breath. “They keep saying I need to do more, but what if I don’t want to do more?”

“I can’t let you give up.”

Deep breath. Blink twice. Look at him, again. To the man with the ebony hair, now without his cap and with his hair being whipped by the wind. He looked at me, squinting his eyes while battling a particularly strong gust of wind. His head tilted to the side, lips parted as if a long sigh is waiting to be let out. I shook my head, weary of the subject.

"It's tiring to repeat it, Carlos," I said and the sigh he was holding was finally released. Carlos moved in his place, gathering his hands in his lap and then resting them on his thighs. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“I don’t,” he shook his head. “I look at you and I see an incredible future, as I always did. I thought we would share the track, someday. I imagined that you would follow the same steps that I took and that Rio took... I asked my dad so many times what prevented you from going to F3."

"Sponsors," I said, he nodded.

"He told me the same. But…" he shook his head again, “did they see you racing? Did they see you on the track? Or in the garage talking to any mechanic or engineer?" I shook my head. "You were raised in a garage, but in the wrong stop. You should have been in the car, not following us everywhere and watching from afar.”

“I… It was… F3 is a big deal. And after Rio decided he didn’t want to race anymore? Do you have any idea of mad my dad got? I can’t even imagine how much money he spent with Rio, for nothing… I mean, I get it. Of course, he has reservations, now.”

“I don’t.”

“He’s… I don’t know. I think he expected Rio to be the one doing this, you know?” He nodded slightly. “I mean, I wouldn’t put money on me, not after—”

“I would,” he interrupted me. “Any person who knows enough after racing would. Why don’t you believe it?”

“Because I haven’t seen it!” I said, impatient. “For a while, I believed in it, you know? F3… You were there, you know how hard I wanted it. How much I fought for it. Asking for sponsors, and trying to find a seat, but after years of trying and failing…? Either because of money, or just because I wasn’t doing as well as people wanted me to… It was brutal…”

In silence, he nodded again, lowering his hand and placing it on the bench. I looked down. To the contract between his soft skin and the rough surface, the veins creating bumpy mountains on the tanned skin.

“And now I think,” I looked up at him, again. “What if I fail them all again?”

It was uncomfortable. The talk, the place, the roughness of the bench against the back of my thighs, the sun hitting me hard on the back. Small drops of sweat dripped down my temples, ticker ones dripped down his.

“So you rather fail yourself?”

“God… you almost sound like Marjorie.”

He snorted. “Come on, give me an answer.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want to fail myself. I like this. I like racing. But I hate the pressure and this… carnage. And it’s so fucking lonely. I’m… I just want to be home. Have a stable job. Come home after work, with fresh bread and open a bottle of wine, watch a sitcom…” He took a breath and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

Carlos was always so calm, so collected. I’ve always envied that.

“It doesn’t have to be lonely.”

“It is, though.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ve been there. I’ve been to the top. Been all the way down. Look at this season… I know what it’s like to feel the fear and the desperation and the hopelessness, and I’ve overcome that. Well…” he hesitated, “I still am. But do you think I’m doing all of this alone?”

“This season…” he continued, eyes down. “Each time I thought it couldn’t go worst, it went. And I know you think I’m this cold, rude person, with no feelings and emotions, like a robot,” I bit my lips trying to muffle a chuckle that I couldn’t stop. He smiled. “It was tough, I really felt it in my skin. And I’m sure it didn’t end here, more will come… But I had and I have my dad, and Rupert, Caco, my friends… my sisters…”

“Rio is leaving.”

“Ah…” He rocked back in his place, rubbing his hands on his shorts. “I thought it may be that.” he stopped. “I feel like I need to apologize for making him leave.”

“Nah, it wasn’t you. He really deserves this opportunity.”

Silence.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but,” his voice softened and he met my gaze. The look in his eyes was so sad, so resigned. It pulled at something in my chest. “I’ll be here.”

Silence.

In my mind, he was already gone. But those eyes? And the way they looked at me like I was some kind of rare work of art? Damn him. My eyes dropped down to the line of his mouth—lips full, and somehow I knew exactly what they’d taste like.

“God forbid you will ever do what I ask you to,” I joked, weakly, and in response, he let out a hoarse chuckle. But as soon as the chuckle died down, his expression turned serious again.

"Listen, I know this isn't the life you imagined for yourself. And this may sound selfish, but this isn’t the life I imagined for you. I know sitcoms and tea are much more likeable than having fajitas for dinner after running 5K in negative temperatures, but… I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you give up.”

I felt a weak smile grow on my lips.

“And if you fail? Then you fail,” he shrugged. “We all have ups and downs. You fall, and you get back up again because, and this is a promise, I won’t let you feel lonely.”

“And what if I’m just… not good enough?”

The corner of his lips pointed up, in a lopsided smile. “You are. That’s the only thing I’m sure about.” He paused. My eyes dropped to my hands, and his hand met my thigh, in a gentle caress. “Look at me.” I did. Of course, I did. “You’ve won races, championships. You were amazing in your WEC debut. Everyone agrees. If you want to do this, you can. Endurance, Formula, just name it… I know you can do it.”

Tension grew heavy. My chest was about to implode on itself, loaded with a strange sense of hope and an ambition I’d felt like I’d forgotten about.

“If I run out of options,” his smile grew, notoriously understanding I was about to completely shift the mood. “I’ll join your dad at Extreme E.”

At this point, I was already grinning. He snorted. “Good luck keeping up with the old man,” he got up and extended me his hand. “Anyways, I’m sure you’d be amazing.”

Five minutes later, we were by the sea again, in a course we trekked at a steady pace, side by side, in silence. If before I associated Carlos with cold and stormy nights, thunder that made the ground shake and freezing snow, now I saw him in the light of the August sun, surrounded by the immense blue, a clear sky and an empty road ahead.

Airport Carlos + Sun Kissed Carlos + Motivational Speaker Carlos + was that Jealous Carlos? 👀 Thank you all for the support! Please, keep leaving comments and messages, they mean the world! All the love, Bru

#Tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #fanf1ction #f1 fanfic #driver x you #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #driver x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz angst

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rockislandadultreads · 2 years

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Goodreads Choice Awards 2022: Nonfiction Opening Round Nominees

Pick up one of these nonfiction nominees for the 2022 Goodreads Choice Awards!

Unmasked by Paul Holes

Crime-solving for me is more complex than the challenge of the hunt, or the process of piecing together a scientific puzzle. The thought of good people suffering drives me, for better or worse, to the point of obsession.

People always ask how I am able to detach from the horrors of my work. Part of it is an innate capacity to compartmentalize; the rest is experience and exposure, and I’ve had plenty of both. But I had always taken pride in the fact that I can keep my feelings locked up to get the job done. It’s only been recently that it feels like all that suppressed darkness is beginning to seep out.

When I look back at my long career, there is a lot I am proud of. I have caught some of the most notorious killers of the twenty-first century and brought justice and closure for their victims and families. I want to tell you about a lifetime solving these cold cases, from Laci Peterson to Jaycee Dugard to the Pittsburg homicides to, yes, my twenty-year-long hunt for the Golden State Killer.

But a deeper question eats at me as I ask myself, at what cost? I have sacrificed relationships, joy - even fatherhood - because the pursuit of evil always came first. Did I make the right choice? It’s something I grapple with every day. Yet as I stand in the spot where a young girl took her last breath, as I look into the eyes of her family, I know that, for me, there has never been a choice. “I don’t know if I can solve your case,” I whisper. “But I promise I will do my best.”

It is a promise I know I can keep.

An Immense World by Ed Yong

The Earth teems with sights and textures, sounds and vibrations, smells and tastes, electric and magnetic fields. But every animal is enclosed within its own unique sensory bubble, perceiving but a tiny sliver of an immense world. This book welcomes us into a previously unfathomable dimension - the world as it is truly perceived by other animals.

We encounter beetles that are drawn to fires, turtles that can track the Earth's magnetic fields, fish that fill rivers with electrical messages, and humans that wield sonar like bats. We discover that a crocodile's scaly face is as sensitive as a lover's fingertips, that the eyes of a giant squid evolved to see sparkling whales, that plants thrum with the inaudible songs of courting bugs, and that even simple scallops have complex vision. We learn what bees see in flowers, what songbirds hear in their tunes, and what dogs smell on the street. We listen to stories of pivotal discoveries in the field, while looking ahead at the many mysteries which lie unsolved.

In An Immense World, author and acclaimed science journalist Ed Yong coaxes us beyond the confines of our own senses, allowing us to perceive the skeins of scent, waves of electromagnetism, and pulses of pressure that surround us. Because in order to understand our world we don't need to travel to other places; we need to see through other eyes.

South to America by Imani Perry

We all think we know the South. Even those who have never lived there can rattle off a list of signifiers: the Civil War, Gone with the Wind, the Ku Klux Klan, plantations, football, Jim Crow, slavery. But the idiosyncrasies, dispositions, and habits of the region are stranger and more complex than much of the country tends to acknowledge. In South to America, Imani Perry shows that the meaning of American is inextricably linked with the South, and that our understanding of its history and culture is the key to understanding the nation as a whole.

This is the story of a Black woman and native Alabaman returning to the region she has always called home and considering it with fresh eyes. Her journey is full of detours, deep dives, and surprising encounters with places and people. She renders Southerners from all walks of life with sensitivity and honesty, sharing her thoughts about a troubling history and the ritual humiliations and joys that characterize so much of Southern life.

Weaving together stories of immigrant communities, contemporary artists, exploitative opportunists, enslaved peoples, unsung heroes, her own ancestors, and her lived experiences, Imani Perry crafts a tapestry unlike any other. With uncommon insight and breathtaking clarity, South to America offers an assertion that if we want to build a more humane future for the United States, we must center our concern below the Mason-Dixon Line.

The Trayvon Generation by Elizabeth Alexander

In the midst of civil unrest in the summer of 2020 and following the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery, Elizabeth Alexander - one of the great literary voices of our time - turned a mother's eye to her sons’ and students’ generation and wrote a celebrated and moving reflection on the challenges facing young Black America. Originally published in the New Yorker, the essay incisively and lovingly observed the experiences, attitudes, and cultural expressions of what she referred to as the Trayvon Generation, who even as children could not be shielded from the brutality that has affected the lives of so many Black people.

The Trayvon Generation expands the viral essay that spoke so resonantly to the persistence of race as an ongoing issue at the center of the American experience. Alexander looks both to our past and our future with profound insight, brilliant analysis, and mighty heart, interweaving her voice with groundbreaking works of art by some of our most extraordinary artists. At this crucial time in American history when we reckon with who we are as a nation and how we move forward, Alexander's lyrical prose gives us perspective informed by historical understanding, her lifelong devotion to education, and an intimate grasp of the visioning power of art.

This breathtaking book is essential reading and an expression of both the tragedies and hopes for the young people of this era that is sure to be embraced by those who are leading the movement for change and anyone rising to meet the moment.

Bittersweet by Susan Cain

With Quiet, Susan Cain urged our society to cultivate space for the undervalued, indispensable introverts among us, thereby revealing an untapped power hidden in plain sight. Now she employs the same mix of research, storytelling, and memoir to explore why we experience sorrow and longing, and the surprising lessons these states of mind teach us about creativity, compassion, leadership, spirituality, mortality, and love.

Bittersweetness is a tendency to states of longing, poignancy, and sorrow; an acute awareness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy when beholding beauty. It recognizes that light and dark, birth and death - bitter and sweet - are forever paired. A song in a minor key, an elegiac poem, or even a touching television commercial all can bring us to this sublime, even holy, state of mind - and, ultimately, to greater kinship with our fellow humans.

But bittersweetness is not, as we tend to think, just a momentary feeling or event. It’s also a way of being, a storied heritage. Our artistic and spiritual traditions - amplified by recent scientific and management research - teach us its power.

Cain shows how a bittersweet state of mind is the quiet force that helps us transcend our personal and collective pain. If we don’t acknowledge our own sorrows and longings, she says, we can end up inflicting them on others via abuse, domination, or neglect. But if we realize that all humans know - or will know - loss and suffering, we can turn toward each other. And we can learn to transform our own pain into creativity, transcendence, and connection.

#nonfiction #nonfiction reads #nonfiction books #goodreads #nominees #library books #book recommendations #book recs #reading recommendations #reading recs #TBR pile #tbr #to read #booklr #book tumblr #book blog #reading blog

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

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it's never too late... | b. jacob

🏀 pairing: crush! basketball player! jacob x fem!reader 🏀 genre: high school!au, fluff, (sort of) strangers/acquaintances-to-lovers 🏀 word count: 5.2k 🏀 tw: very cliché 😳 and it goes kinda fast lmaoo 🏀 a/n: lisa I'm sorry I took this long to do your request, but I hope you'll like it nonetheless!! ALSO: to my fellow Americans, here football = soccer!! 🏀 requested: yes! thank you lisa!! @skrtbabe

╰☆☆☆☆╮

You had waited for this time since the beginning of your academic journey there. Graduating from high school was two months away, and it felt just as exciting as weird.

It felt like you had started your first year last week, but the amount of work and time spent in those dull buildings makes you feel like you’ve been there for at least five years.

It was exhausting to attend classes and see the same people every single day of the year, with repetitive subjects, annoying or cool teachers depending on your luck and everything that followed. The homework, the assignments, the small -or not so small- fights between classes or groups of people, you were praying that university wouldn’t sound like that.

However, at the same time, you were almost starting to feel nostalgic for this time. The last years where you could remain a bit silly before entering the adult world, being in your last teen years with people that you appreciated and met there. You chose to do this before letting them go and live your own lives, memories that will disappear if you don’t cherish them enough.

So, with Soyeon, your best friend, you decided to enjoy the time that you had left to do things together while still studying and revising for the exams, which was sometimes not easy to do. Yes, you shared classes, but personal and private activities sometimes came in the way and prevented you from hanging out.

“It’s life after all,” she said one night over the phone as you shared your opinion on this topic, “it’s good that we can be together almost 24/7, but sometimes, things don’t allow us to be together. It might be for the best, we never know,” she said, trying to be positive no matter the situation she was in, but you knew her well. As much as she wants to appear strong, you had found her many times crying on her own. But it was her personality, and no matter how hard you tried to change her, what's bred in the bone comes out in the flesh.

Soyeon wasn’t your only friend, you were getting along well with most of your girl classmates, as well as the boys that weren’t suffocating under the number of pick-me-girls that were populating your school and your class.

Sadly for you, you’ve been eyeing the most popular (and prettiest) boy in your whole school since you crossed gaze with him at the very beginning of your first year there. Jacob, your crush, was also the star basketball player of your school, and constantly surrounded and attracting cheerleaders or rich, random, good-looking girls, which had a knack for getting on your nerves. He was always spending time together with his pals and teammates, but other people as well. Everyone wanted to be his friend because you know, he had a promising career ahead of him, so it was always nice to be friends with a potential future celebrity.

As defeated as you were, there was still a small voice in your head telling you to do something before he left to go back to his home country, South Korea, where he had a career already planned and traced out.

You were confused as it was almost impossible for you to get a chance with him since you were not one of those girls and you simply couldn’t compete against them, but Soyeon and her boyfriend Sunwoo were always there to praise you and reassure you about your potential chances of dating him. Never convinced by your friends’ words, you had tried many times to get him out of your head and focus on someone else, but it never worked. Everything came back to him. He was unique and oh so nice, everything reminded you of him, and it was sickening at this point.

“He won't get out of my head, it’s getting on my nerves,” you shared your thoughts to your best friend as you braced your head in your hands, slapping your cheeks as if it were going to change anything and help you throw Jacob out of your brain.

“Why do I keep this stupid boy in my head when I know I don’t stand a single chance against those girls,” you slapped your cheeks harder and whined as Soyeon’s hand landed on your wrist.

“Y/N, stop your nonsense. You are perfect, you don’t need to change anything for him!”

“It’s easier said than done, you pulled the football star player!” you exclaimed, and she rolled her eyes, shifting closer to whisper.

“He pulled me because he knew that I am pretty, and that wouldn’t change a single thing for him. If he’s not happy with who I am, he can leave,” she shrugs, signalling you to do the same if you dated Jacob.

Sunwoo was also among the popular boys, but your friend remained the same, not even trying to fit in with the popular girls. She claimed that Sunwoo fell in love with her for her true self, so she didn’t see the point of changing to please other people. And you wished you had her confidence and her strength, admiring her for not changing anything about herself to please others.

Back to the present.

You felt stuck, desperately in love with an unapproachable boy who was too popular and way out of your league to be lucky to have his eyes sparing you any sort of attention. Even if he was a sweet young man, he was always surrounded by popular people, who were trying to hook up or use him for his school fame and sharp features.

One day, while studying with your best friend at the library, Sunwoo and one of his friends, Hyunjae, the football captain, burst into the library and come not so quietly to your table.

“For the love of God, can you both be quiet for once?” Soyeon whispered-yelled but her voice got toned down by Sunwoo vividly pressing his lips on hers, an arm wrapping around her shoulders. Hyunjae laughed but quickly gagged as they didn’t stop the kiss as quickly as the captain wished.

“Gosh, please, get a room,” he mumbled before hugging you, your knee resting against his as his arms pressed you against his chest.

Your friendship with Hyunjae felt more like siblings, he was genuinely nice and caring with you, making sure that you were okay and that you had enough of everything before allowing you to go home. Despite all the teasing and a few rumours going around school, you were not dating and didn’t have any romantic feelings for each other. He simply checked that you had an older brother figure since you were the first-born child, and it felt relieving.

The thing you did not know was that Jacob and a few of his basketball teammates, Juyeon, Eric and Younghoon, were a few tables away from yours, your back facing them, the future star looking at you and Hyunjae from the corner of his eyes. He nodded at his friend at your table, who gave him a wink as an answer, Jacob’s eyes burning holes into your back as Hyunjae was close to you. Too close to you for the basketball player not to feel something churn in his stomach.

Two long, manicured fingers snapped in front of his eyes to get him out of his reverie, lazily looking at the girl that sat across from him, who he was supposed to get help from.

“Jacob please, pay attention to meeeeee,” she whined and pouted, giving him puppy eyes that he couldn’t give a single fuck about, too busy in his mind to hear what she had to say.

She had volunteered to help him study History, but she wasn’t any better, probably worse than he was. It was already the third time Juyeon corrected her basic knowledge without being an expert himself, not even caring about the death glares she kept sending him. It only made him smirk as he knew it irked her dearly yet amused the rest of the table a lot.

They all sighed as she finally took the hint and left their table, Jacob bitterly chuckling as Hyunjae rolled his eyes when she walked past your table, his demeanour making you laugh.

╰☆╮

“Bro, do you think I should ask Y/N for help? Isn’t that a bit… lame?” Jacob sat on one of the soccer balls, hands joined and panting as Sunwoo practised his dribbling skills before shooting the ball in the cages, aiming for the up-right corner. He trotted to his friend and collapsed on the grass next to him, the last rays of sunshine offering his skin a wonderful, honey glow. He ruffled his hair after plopping down, checking his phone for any message before answering.

“If you need help, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask her. I mean, she’s super smart in every subject, but she’s just the boss in History. Her presentations are always golden, and she explains things a lot better than some of the teachers.”

“I got Smith as a teacher,” the basketball player grimaced, his left hand holding his right wrist as his gaze wandered in the grass.

“We’ve got Antal, and I can tell you that she’s always mad when Y/N does a presentation because they honestly just sound better than her lessons,” Sunwoo chuckled as Jacob pondered his friend’s words, the gears of his mind working at full speed.

How is he going to be able to approach you and get to talk to you?

╰☆╮

“Bestie, no. I swear I saw that in the other book,” you said as you found yourself back in the library the following week, bending over the table to grab the book your best friend was resting hers on. You started flipping some pages when a loud, masculine chortle followed by some whispers of annoyance drawing your attention.

“Hi, babe! Hi Hyunj- Oh hi Jacob!” your neck almost snapped as you abruptly lifted your head up at the mention of your crush’s name, a small, embarrassed smile making its way on your mouth. You were a bit sad that your brother best friend was not here with Sunwoo, but you weren’t going to complain to have your crush instead.

“Can I sit here?” the basketball player asked in a soft voice while pointing at the empty spot next to you, making you quickly nod and gather your stuff to make him some space.

You resumed searching for the precious paragraph you were searching for your project as if it were nothing, trying to ignore your stammering heart in your chest and the couple eating each other's mouths. The only thing you hoped was that Jacob couldn’t hear the loud, irregular beats in your ribcage because it would give in your attraction to him.

“Hum, Y/N?” the voice next to you made you flinch, surprised that he knew your name and that he said it aloud.

“Y-Yes?” you said, cursing in your head as you stuttered.

“I heard that you were the Ace when it came to History,” Jacob started, and you couldn’t look at him in the eyes, fire spreading in your chest up to your face.

“I can’t really say that I’m the Ace, but I really love that subject, so yeah I have some… knowledge,” words tripped over your tongue, and your best friend pulled away from Sunwoo and scoffed.

“Some knowledge? Are you kidding?” she said, Sunwoo placing a hand on her mouth as she was louder than intended. She removed his palm and furrowed her brows at him, before turning her head back at you with the same angry expression.

“She knows so fucking much that Antal hates her because she feels humiliated compared to Y/N. So let me tell you one thing, Cobbie, if you need help, you’ve come to the right person. Y/N is just a living encyclopaedia,” your best friend proudly smirked as you glowered at her, Sunwoo chuckling at his girlfriend’s behaviour before immediately stopping.

“Wait, did you call him Cobbie? How come you call him like that when I get nothing other than babe or baby?” Sunwoo argued while pouting, and your best friend sighed, ruffling his hair before pressing her lips against his one more time, making you slightly grimace as envy flooded your veins.

You sighed and dared to look at Jacob, who was reading the beginning of your essay written on your computer, leaving Sunwoo and your best friend bicker like the cute couple they were.

“Do you have this project too?” you asked, and he shook his head, eyes remaining glued on the computer screen.

“It’s so interesting what you wrote, I like your way of writing and explaining stuff,” he offered a small smile as he looked at you, clearing his throat. For someone that was super popular and constantly surrounded by friends or people at parties, he behaved and sounded quite like an introvert.

“W-Well, thank you,” you said with a smile and turned your head to the side for a second, taking a deep breath before looking back at him, opening a new tab on your computer after he gestured to you that he was done reading.

“What do you need help with?”

╰☆╮

You were astonished at how quick-minded Jacob was. Behind his fit, muscular appearance and obsession with basketball, he had the soul of a thinker and grasped the knowledge of historical concepts quite easily and rapidly. He just wasn’t good with the way Smith was teaching, the method not suiting him.

“You retain things well for someone who hates History,” you joked, and he shyly smiled, scratching his neck. His smile looked gorgeous, and you were pleasantly surprised at how much of a genuine person he was.

“Well, History is not my cup of tea, but it might be a bit more thanks to you,” he said, and you tried to stifle a smile, thankful that your best friend was no longer sitting across from you because she wouldn’t have let you two live.

“It’s nothing. You can come back to me if you need help, I really don’t mind. I actually like explaining things,” you said, and he nodded, clicking your pen close before placing it in your pouch.

“Thank you, really. Sunwoo was actually the one that told me about you, so I have to thank him as well,” you stood up and slowly started to pack your stuff, shutting down your computer with a smile.

“I’m glad he did so, I just hope it was positive,” you giggled, and he quickly joined you, twirling his pen in between his fingers as he cleared his throat.

“You know, it’s Sunwoo. It can only be nice and positive,” you genuinely smiled at him and fall in silence, throwing glances at each other from time to time as the conversation was slowly starting to die down.

“And... How’s basketball going by the way? Is everything going well?” you asked, and his heart skipped a beat at your question as it took him off guard.

“I-It’s going pretty well, I’m excited to finish high school to be able to focus on basketball. I’m gonna have to take some of my last finals in South Korea because the season and the training start pretty early in Summer so…” his voice trailed as his eyes widened, a hand slapping his mouth as you both stood up.

“What?” you quizzed, confused by his sudden change of behaviour.

“I… was meant to keep this a secret,” his voice trailed, the end of his sentence falling in a whisper as he started panicking. “Can we pretend you didn’t hear what I said?” he asked as you placed your bag strap on your shoulder, taking your sweater before pushing the chair against the table.

“Said what?” you replied with a smile, and Jacob sighed in relief, somehow feeling like his secret was safe with you, even if you’ve talked to him for the first time at the beginning of the afternoon.

╰☆╮

The rest of the month rolled off smoothly, yet the stress and the revisions became more intense as the days went by. You didn’t hear anything back from Jacob, but you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, offering him an awkward wave and a smile as not to get noticed by some of his “fan girls”, as they called themselves.

You still had a whole month left before finals, and you felt blessed as summer decided to start a bit earlier this year. It was only the beginning of May, but you were already able to wear shorts and dresses. It felt good to see the blue sky and being surrounded by the warmth of the sun hitting your exposed skin after the cold, lonely winter and spring you’ve just got out of. Everything looked prettier and warmer, and it did nothing but make you happier and brighter, despite the stress of the finals piling up on your shoulders.

So, to get rid of this pressure, you decided to leave town with Hyunjae and let him drive to one of the lakes that surrounded your town, knowing that the beach and parks would get crowded in no time. It was a place that you used to go to with your parents when you were still a child, memories that you shared with your friend coming back flooding in your mind.

Hyunjae and his family tagged along to give you some company and take care of you as your parents were busy looking after your newborn twin sisters, Hyunjae and his younger brother acting like elder siblings to you.

After driving for a few dozens of minutes, you settled your stuff in the shade, right under a weeping willow that offered you freshness throughout the entire day. Your best friend napped almost the entire time you were there, hand lingering on his abs while the other plucked out some grass until he dozed off, trying to store as many hours of rest as possible before finals. By his side was you, reading a book and enjoying the chilly water to cool down from the hot temperatures of early Summer, playfully nudging the young man next to you each time he was starting to snore.

It’s near the middle of the afternoon that you heard another car pulling up near the lake, a bunch of excited teenagers coming out of a van. You didn’t pay much attention to them, only sighing as your peace was about to get ruined, their screams when they jumped in the water woke your best friend up.

He abruptly sat up next to you and rubbed his eyes, some sleeping marks lingering on his face, making you giggle. Being the short-sighted idiot that he was, he squinted to try and recognise some people, but he didn’t have to.

A young woman screamed and started jumping up and down, waving her arms above her head in your direction, hearing her scream something towards you.

You looked at each other with Hyunjae, confusion painted on your faces, hearing your phone buzz in your small bag hidden by your folded clothes.

“Hello?” you said as Hyunjae’s phone started vibrating too, picking up the call as well.

“Y/N, it’s us! We’re on the opposite side of the lake! Come and join us!” you heard your best friend yell in your ear, hearing her as well through Hyunjae’s phone, who picked up a call from her boyfriend.

“Okay, we’re coming!” you excitingly said as you hung up, waving at your best friend from your spot as you started packing your stuff to get back in the car and meet up with your friends.

Your best friend excitingly jumped in your arms as soon as you got out of the car,

“Tt’s crazy how we’re so connected! Did you also think that the beach would be crowded?” she asked, and you nodded with a smile, happy to see her this joyful to see you.

The inseparable duo was here, as well as Younghoon, Jacob, Eric, Juyeon and Sangyeon, the striker of the football team. They all engulfed you in a tight hug, Jacob staying in the background the entire time.

“Hi Jacob!” you brightly said and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close. “Hi Y/N,” his answer vibrated in his chest and had repercussions in yours, sending your heart flying in your ribcage.

You looked so good being this carefree, it was thankfully a sight that he managed to imprint in his mind despite the shortness of the moment. Being surrounded by all your friends felt so good that you forgot to be awkward and worry about the stupidest things, and Jacob adored seeing you this natural and smiling in the company of your friends. He was a bit sad that he wasn’t fully the reason for your smile though, but he still managed to enjoy the rest of the day with you and your mutual friends, whether you were on the ground or in the water.

Sangyeon, Younghoon and Juyeon copied Hyunjae and joined him in a restoring nap, while Eric, Sunwoo, Jacob, Soyeon and you played different games in the water, improvising a volleyball match with an imaginary net and the ball Sunwoo took with him as the volleyball, but it did the job. It was just a bit hurtful for the liberos since it wasn’t as soft and bouncy as a volleyball, but the joy of the moment allowed any type of pain to become bearable.

The evening eventually started to settle in, and you all got out of the water, drying yourselves before deciding to spend a part of the night here. You helped Sangyeon build a bonfire in the safe area by bringing some different branches, the eldest placing them correctly before lighting them with his pocket lighter.

“Hyung! I didn’t know you were a boy-scout,” Sunwoo exclaimed and made everyone laughed as you all were sliding some marshmallows on a stick, Sangyeon smiling with modesty at everyone.

“Ya, don’t say this,” Sangyeon mumbled, and you smile, rubbing his upper back as he sat down next to you, thanking him when you handed him over his marshmallow stick.

“Oh no! Mine burnt,” Soyeon pouted when she retrieved her snack from the flames, and her boyfriend was quick to give her his sweets, Eric cooing at the gesture of affection.

“Give it to me, I like them burnt,” he mumbled as he bit in the fluffy texture, immediately regretting it as it was boiling. His girlfriend handed him water as he stood up, bouncing up and down to try and reduce what felt like flames in his mouth.

“Oh my, thanks babe,” he muttered with his mouth stuffed when he gulped down everything with a pained expression on his face. Eric’s eyes filled with boredom locked into yours and you both chuckled, your friend shaking his head.

“When is it gonna be my turn,” he huffed and Sunwoo hit him playfully in the back as you all laughed around the bonfire, relating to your friend.

“When you’ll stop being obsessed with football and mango juice,” Eric grunted and folded his arms over his chest as Sangyeon called him out, making you coo and playfully run to him, holding him against you as he fake-cried on your chest while everyone was laughing at him.

Except for Jacob, who only offered a weak smile, but you didn’t catch it, too busy having fun and being light-hearted with your friends.

After your stomachs were filled with sweets and soda, Sunwoo pulled out his guitar and strummed a soft melody until some became heavy-eyed or fell asleep against the other, his girlfriend succumbing to his musical talents first. Jacob looked exhausted as well but forced his eyes open, finding him even hotter with hooded eyelids and his hair slightly curling with the humidity of the air and the lake water.

When it was time to go home, Hyunjae, as well as Younghoon, Sunwoo, Soyeon and Eric decided to jump into Hyunjae’s car to go to the beach, feeling the urge and the thrill of going skinny-dipping. On the other hand, you and the rest of the boys were too exhausted and modest to do this, only wanting to go home and get some good rest.

Just like they had arrived, Sangyeon was behind the wheel while the rest was either next to him or in the back seat. And you didn’t know how it happened, but you got stuck between the window and Jacob, who was struggling to keep his eyes open.

“You good?” you asked, and he turned his head towards you before offering you a tired yet sweet smile, moving his head up and down.

“I'm just exhausted, tonight was simply amazing,” he mumbled, and you expressed your agreement by a happy hum and a nod, bringing your attention to your eldest friend.

“Are you sure you’re awake enough to drive?” you enquired on the current situation and Sangyeon looks at you through the inner rear-view mirror, eyes forming two crescent moons as he smiled.

“I just jumped in the water, I’m nothing but awake,” he clapped in his hands to motivate himself and started the engine, your best friend’s car already gone.

Jacob rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes, his head rolling to the side each time Sangyeon took a turn. You settled yourself on the window and let the vibrations of the car lull you to sleep, the small talk that Sangyeon and Juyeon were having in the front seats acted like a background noise, which helped you dozing off.

However, when the car pulled up in front of your house, they didn’t expect you to have your head resting against Jacob’s shoulder, his hand on your knee. The two men smiled at each other before Sangyeon got out of the vehicle, drawing the door open. As he was about to carry you to your doorstep, Jacob’s arm was quick to wrap itself around your waist, keeping you close to him.

You woke up confused, blinking a few times as you saw the striker standing next to you with a wide smile on his face. He removed a limb around your body, and you felt someone groan under your right shoulder, noticing in dread that you snuggled up to Jacob for some warmth in your sleep.

“You gotta go before the beast wakes up,” Sangyeon joked and winked as he helped you get out of the car, closing the door behind you. It opened again a few seconds later, Jacob looking just as confused as you were.

“Come on, lovebirds, we don’t have the night.”

“Lovebirds?” Jacob and you asked in unison, the basketball player rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. He jumped out of the van and gestured to Sangyeon to get back in.

“You can go, I live just around the corner,” he drowsily said as he vaguely gestured behind him.

“You sure? Your house is on my way back home, I can drop you off,” Sangyeon suggested but he refused, offering a handshake to the striker before letting him go.

Being more awake now, you waved at your friends driving away before turning to your crush, who looked even more adorable as he was super sleepy and just woke up.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay? You look really tired,” you asked, voice still laced with sleep yet sounding caring, which made Jacob’s heartbeat fasten. He nodded and weakly smiled, taking a step closer to you. His attitude was a bolt from the blue as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him, nuzzling his face in your neck.

“You felt so warm during the ride, it’s almost like I could get used to this,” he tiredly said with a smile, gently pulling away to stare at you, his fingers leaving your back to come and slide a wild piece of hair behind your ear. Your whole body stiffened at his words as he stared at you in the eyes, noticing a small, washed-out smirk plastered on his face.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit... late to start something with someone? I mean, we have finals and then y-you’re le-leaving for South Korea and-” you started stammering as his thumb gently stroked your cheek, loving watching you lose your composure at his display of affection.

“It’s never too late when you love someone,” he whispered, feeling his warm breath tickling your lips in such a delicious manner that you have to resist the urge to move forward and press your lips against his.

His words punched the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless as he kissed your cheek, mouth slowly moving to the side until it reached your lips. The kiss was soft yet a bit on the rougher side as if he wanted you to understand every feeling he had for you. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and you kissed him harder, deeper, his hands on your lower back pulling you flush against him.

You had dreamt, wondered about what it was like kissing Jacob, but it never felt as good as you were experiencing it now. Fireworks and butterflies were erupting in your stomach, leaving you dizzy with love and passion as one of his hands came and cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the skin.

Once you pulled away for oxygen, you held onto his shoulders for your dear life and he chuckled, his mouth slowly travelling down to your neck.

“I-I think my… my- oh my god, my parents will worry,” you gently pushed him away and he stared at you with a smile before diving in to capture your lips in another soft kiss.

“I'm only letting you go if you're free tomorrow. Let's put that off to tomorrow, shall we?” he asked, and your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“We can go back to the lake if you want, but only if we’re alone,” he said, his hand caressing your cheek while the other was busy stroking your upper back up and down.

“I want to enjoy this with you and you only,” he added, mumbling against your mouth and this time, you’re the one pulling him for a kiss.

“Come and pick me up at 10, then,” you said as you pulled away.

“I’ll be there, I promise,” he answered and started walking towards your house, closing the front gate behind you, waving at him with a smile.

He sent you a flying kiss with a smile and you waved at him one last time before closing the main door of your house behind you, both sighing with a huge smile and warmth painted on your faces.

You peeled the clothes off your skin and went straight to the bathroom to take a shower, shaking your head left to right while chuckling as you recalled what just happened in your last month of high school.

Nothing was making sense, you didn’t know how you got there, but you were happy.

And that’s what mattered the most.

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ambertea · 3 years

Text

together

(read on AO3)

Day two of the Doctorrose Fic Marathon! Based on the prompt "holding hands".

“I want a job.” He announced one morning. Rose was hovering over a mirror as she lined her eyes with dark pencil. “I was thinking Torchwood.”

She stayed silent, her eyebrows furrowing as she rubbed at the mascara that had fallen under her eyes. His feet lead him to stand behind her, and he watched his nervous face reflected back at him.

“Is that okay?”

She nodded at herself in the mirror and straightened. “Talk to Pete.”

“Well, actually, I was thinking your department sounded more interesting.”

She turned and stared at him flatly.

“Tell me what my department does.”

“Alien…stuff.” He replied, rubbing at the back of his neck.

She brushed past him and his hands snatched at her wrists, quickly dropping them at the look on her face.

“Rose, please.”

Her eyes flicked to the clock behind him. “I’m running late.”

“Tomorrow, then?” He asked eagerly. She nodded.

“Tomorrow, yeah. Sure.”

The door banged behind her, and he collapsed onto the bed and let the silence taunt him once more.

It was nice, being stuck in one place, nice in a way that made his muscles tense and his fingers curl. The next-door neighbours always smiled at him when he put out the bins, and the girl at the coffee shop didn’t even ask for his order anymore, just thrust it at him with her usual dreary rage. The kids on the street all knew his name – well, one of his names – and called out to him to play football with them or help them with their homework.

Rose enjoyed it less. Everywhere she went, whispers followed. People eyed her nervously in the supermarket, would press themselves against the shelves as though she was an elephant thundering past, rather than a small human woman trying to buy milk.

Everyone he asked about it had just shrugged. Rose herself had ignored him entirely, but whether that was due to the question itself or just his presence was unclear.

He had spent three long years away from her, yet he had never missed her quite like this. She slept beside him—apparently, the only proof he had was slightly creased sheets and makeup stains on her pillows—and then would disappear with a cursory “Torchwood” thrown over her shoulder. Her phone, that was literally always in her hand, was apparently incapable of picking up his calls or answering texts, and his own only mocked him with read receipts.

He had thought she would understand this new him. He had changed his entire body before, and it was less than a day after that she had been holding his hand and snuggling into his side. It had been four months now, in this universe, four long and agonising months of sitting indoors and waiting for something to happen. Every time he looked at her, he hoped for some flood of recognition, a moment where she realised he was still him and so they ought to just get on with it.

Every day that passed brought less and less hope that that would ever happen.

“Wake up. Hey, wake up.”

He opened his eyes, blinking against the bleariness of sleep. A fan of blonde hair tickled the sides of his face, and brown eyes watched him blankly.

“Rose?”

“Come on.”

He sat up, stretching out his arms and working the kinks out of his back. The windows were dark, and the traffic outside was only loud, rather than its usual deafening. Rose folded her arms and stared down at him, and he fidgeted slightly under her gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“You wanted Torchwood. It’s time for Torchwood. Put these on,” she ordered, throwing some boots on the floor. “We need to go.”

“Right.” He said, limbs failing in his haste to stand. The room flickered with darkness for a second and he cursed stupid human blood pressure. “Where are we going?”

“Coast.”

“Which coast?” He asked, wrestling the boots onto his bare feet. Rose rolled her eyes and threw a jacket at him.

“The one next to the sea. Now come on, hurry up.”

He thrust his arms into the jacket and hurried after her retreating form. A blast of cold hair hit him like a bucket of cold water, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his sides as he shuffled forwards. Rose’s phone was at her ear, her voice hard as she barked out her instructions.

“Solomon street. Now.”

A green SUV whizzed round the corner, skidding to a stop perfectly in front of them. A young man stepped out, ginger and pale, and immediately saluted.

“Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Stewart. I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The boy turned and marched down the street, picking his direction seemingly at random. Rose jumped into the drivers’ side and looked at him impatiently. He gawked at her through the window.

“What’s going on?”

“Later. C’mon.”

Her hands were white around the steering wheel, and he stared at them, feeling dread settle in his gut. The engine started up with a groan and he quickly ran around and jumped into the passenger side.

Before he could even reach for his seatbelt, the car lurched into action, and his head slapped into the headrest.

“Sorry,” Rose mumbled, her eyes not moving from the road as the speed only went up. He nodded frantically, quickly securing himself and then gripping tightly at the edges of the chair.

“Where are we going?” He asked, voice unnaturally high. For a moment, he thought he saw her mouth curve upwards, but within a second it was back to the same flat mask.

“Where do you think?” She scoffed. “Where else? Bad Wolf Bay.”

Their journey to Norway passed in heavy silences that were only occasionally broken by questions that Rose only ignored. He fiddled relentlessly with the cuffs of his shirt and tried to calm his stupid single heart, that pounded and screamed in his ears.

This, more than anything else, was what he hated about this world – he was never in control here, never understood what he should be doing, or what he should say. He never used to care about that stuff before. His life had always been spontaneous, he had prided himself on it in some sick, sad way, but all he could long for now was a sliver of certainty.

Was this how she would finally dump him? On the very beach they were headed towards, she had kissed him, and at the time it had felt like a hello. It seemed now it had been more of a goodbye. He had always known Rose, could always reliably understand what was going through her head at any given point. The woman he had been left with seemed like someone else entirely. A stranger, with the face of the woman he loved the most.

His whole species had died – all his family, all his friends. But this loneliness was far more insidious and hung heavily in the space between his bones.

“We’re here,” Rose said, and he startled. She jumped out of her seat and walked round to his door, flinging it open. He watched her eyes staring carefully at the space between his eyebrows. “Come on.”

“I don’t want to.”

“What, you think I’m going to drown you?”

“Well, I do now.”

She sighed. "I’m not. I promise you’re going to want to see this.”

He gazed at her, trying to understand what was behind the tense line of her mouth and her unwavering stare. Nothing revealed itself.

Unclipping his belt, he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. Rose reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards the beach.

It was hushed, only the angry crash of the waves breaking the idyllic landscape. His eyes flickered towards where it happened – where the TARDIS had landed and stranded him in this world of mystifying social cues and angry faces.

Her hand was clasped around his own tightly, as though trying to stop him from running away, but that was the last thing on his mind. It had been so long since he had held her hand. It was as comforting as it was devastating.

“Before the stars started going out,” Rose whispered, her soft voice carrying through the wind. “I was working on a way to get back.”

“The dimension canon.”

“Yeah, but other things too. We dumped them all when the canon started working.”

Her face was sad, wistful even and he squeezed her hand tightly. She startled, looking up at him, and he was alarmed by the wetness of her eyes.

“And?”

“And I’ve been working on one of them. Since…since we came back.”

His heart had literally leapt into the back of his throat. It was the only plausible explanation for the lack of air, for the way his whole body was screaming at him to go, to get out now. He hung his head and kicked at the sand.

“This is where the walls are weakest. We made a sort of, um, portal. You can just step through, see.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. With a tap of a key, a bright swirl opened around them, wind whipping around it angrily. He stepped back and pulled her with him.

“It’s not possible.”

“Same phone you gave me. Energy source from the original universe. Battery never runs out, so—”

“—so it has the power to send you back.” He finished darkly. She shook her head.

“No. Enough power to send you back.”

He thrust away from her hand and stared at her. She had tears running down her cheeks, and her eyes were wide and sad.

“No.”

“You’re not happy here.” She whispered, pulling on her earring.

“Neither are you.”

“No.” She agreed with a half-hearted chuckle.

“Rose,” he said desperately, clutching at her hands again, pressing his body as closely to hers as he could. “Rose, no. Please. I’m still the Doctor. I swear—the exact same man. I want to be here with you.”

Her hand came up and rested lightly on his cheek. He leaned into it, kissing her palm, greedily clutching at this small token of affection.

“I know,” she whispered. “Exact same man.”

“Yes! I’m him; I am exactly him—”

“The same man who left me on this beach.”

The wind from the portal settled. The sea calmed. Silence reigned.

“I stayed with you.”

“But left, as well.”

He was still clutching at her. His hands snaked around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead to his. Rose’s eyes were tightly shut. His were wide and searching.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered to her, and she only squeezed her eyes tighter, mascara leaking from her eyelashes.

“You left me, again. You didn’t even say goodbye. Why do you never say goodbye?”

“Rose—”

“I did everything I could do get back to you. Everything. Terrible things. But—” She opened her eyes and stared at him with open devastation. “You didn’t want me.”

“Of course, I did, I do.” he whispered. She ignored him.

“You just—left you here. To deal with me. To stop me trying to come back again, or whatever.” She cleared her throat and stepped out of his embrace and rubbed angrily at her eyes. “But it’s okay. I’ll stay here. I want you to be happy.”

“Rose, please.” He begged, voice breaking. He tried to grab her hand again, but she was stepping away from his embrace, arms wrapped tightly around herself. “I want to be with you. I told you, didn’t I?”

“You said you could spend your life with me.”

“Yes—yes—please. I want that. I swear I want that. He had to go; you know he had to. But I,” his face broke into a tiny, happy smile. “I got to stay.”

She stepped forwards cautiously, her hands shaking. He stayed as still as he could, resisting the urge to pull her tightly into his arms.

“You were dumped here too. You didn’t get a choice, either.” She whispered. He smiled and gently took her hand.

“I didn’t need a choice. My answer will always be you.”

She flung herself into his arms, and he clung to her desperately, nuzzling his face into her hair. Her hands were everywhere – along his back, down his arms, his neck. They clutched at his jaw and he pulled back, just a little, so he could take her in properly. There was still pain splashed across her face, but a cautious hope lit up her eyes.

“I love you.” He whispered. “Please let me.”

“Okay.” She whispered back.

She untangled herself from his embrace, and pulled out her phone, closing the portal as quickly as she’d opened it.

He offered out his hand, and she took it, a smile playing across her face.

“Together?”

“Together.” She nodded.

He pulled her away from the beach, feeling, for the first time in months, that they might just be okay.

#ive written something two days in a row.......this is how athletes must feel #fic #tentoo x rose #rose tyler #doctor who

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Empire Theatre in Liverpool, UK - December 7, 1979

(x)

Freddie's black leather pants had both blue and red kneepads just to keep the football fans of both Liverpool and Everton happy, as Brian explained at some point during the show. For their own amusement during the acoustic set, Brian and Freddie played a bit of Mull Of Kintyre after Freddie mentioned how Wings had just played in Liverpool. Freddie jokingly said, "I'll be Linda McCartney." The band perform Liar on the second night in Liverpool, as they always did when playing two consecutive nights at a venue on this tour. The first picture was taken by Jim Jenkins, and the second by Ian Stewart Brown during We Are The Champions. The last photo set was taken by Doug Price and cleaned up by Ryan Newton.

Fan Stories

“I was fortunate to see Queen make their debut on T.O.T.P. in early 74. This was the time that Glam rock was at its peak, as a 10 year old I used to enjoy watching the likes of Mud, Slade, Sweet and Gary Glitter. I had never heard of Queen before seeing them on T.O.T.P, from that appearance I was hooked! The sound and visual image of the band took my appreciation of music to a level which was far ahead of the other acts that i used to enjoy. The song that they performed, Seven Seas Of Rhye, has stood the test of time so well over the last 29 years. For the next 5 years I would always listen out for a new Queen single release hoping that i could see the band perform the single on the TV. A couple of months after my 15th birthday I had the opportunity to see the band play live in Liverpool on the Crazy tour. It was to be an early Christmas present off my parents and they were taking me to the concert 80 miles away from my home town with another Queen fan called Elizabeth (good name for a Queen fan!). To say I couldnt wait was an understatment! Just over a week before the gig I went down with chicken pox, my Mother said "You can't go to the concert as you might give it to Freddie!", but, it was going to take more than chicken pox to stop me seeing the band for the first time! The concert took place on a Friday, I remember being in school and a couple of mates being almost as excited for me as i was for myself, as i was always telling them how much i loved Queen! We had excellent seats, in the 4th row, on Brian's side. There was no support band, so, when the lights of the theatre where dimmed you can imagine the atmosphere in there, a cloud of dry ice slowly wafted into the audience with the intro tape playing, I'm shaking my head typing this as I can remember it so well, just goes to show that you never forget your first one! This is what I had been waiting for, for so long, the opportunity of seeing Queen live, I had heard so many times of what a great live show they would perform, before this I had only seen their Christmas eve gig on the TV in 75. I hadn't even heard a bootleg tape before I purchased Live Killers, an album that I couldn't wait to buy, and played to death in my bedroom in the summer of 79! The lighting rig was suspended about 6 ft high above the stage, this was slowly raised to reveal the hundreds of white, green and red lights piercing through the dry-ice and into the noisy, excited crowd, an explosion was the cue for the band to enter the stage, they ripped into Jailhouse rock, with the customary, as I was to learn, always, last on stage appearance of Freddie. There he was about 10 ft away from me, unbeliavable, first impressions? He was smaller than what I thought, on the TV he seemed to give off the appearance he was a lot bigger, or was that just the way his stage presence came over on TV? He was dressed in all black leather, including the hat, and the "fly" eye shades. Not to displease any of the city's football fans in the audience Brian later revealed that was the reason, why Freddie was wearing blue and red kneepads! The set list was similar to Live Killers, but included Save Me which wasn't to be released as a single until the next month. The majority of people reading this will have seen Queen in concert, so you know how brilliant a Queen gig was. With the glorious benefit of hindsight I was fortunate that I had such a great seat to see the band in action for my first time. A year later and my first gig could have been at the back of the N.E.C. in Birmingham. All too soon the gig finished, on leaving the theatre O noticed that my ears where ringing from the volume of the concert, the ringing didnt stop until the next Tuesday! December 91, two weeks after Freddie has passed away and I'm back at The Empire for the first time since my first Queen gig, of all the places to go back to... I explained to my partner that it was a gig I wanted to miss as it would be too painful to visit the Theatre in the circumstances, she talked me around, so I took my seat in the circle to see the gig by Paul Young, who I had seen before, and to this day I still like. Whilst the support act was on, I looked down into the stalls, from the right of the theatre I looked at the 4th row and counted the seats until I got to the 12th seat, the seat I had for my first Queen gig, the memories came flooding back of that night, my throat was choked as I took a journey on the gigs that I had seen after I had been in that seat - 3 trips to Paris, 2 to Brussels, Cologne, Hot Space tour, attending the 7 gigs in the U.K. on The Works tour, down the front at the Live Aid gig, The Magic tour, every opportunity I had to see the band in action I took, they would never happen again, being a Queen fan you can probably realise how I was hurting at that time? A couple of years later Brian performed in Liverpool at The Royal Court Theatre, just down the road from The Empire, I was made up that he was playing in Liverpool as this was a chance to see Brian's first visit to Liverpool since my first concert in 79. It was a great concert with a brilliant atmosphere. On Brian's next tour 5 years later I was fortunate to meet him, and he signed a photo of a picture I had taken from his gig in Liverpool in '93. On telling him of the gig it was taken at, he commented on what a great night that had been, and how he was disappointed he couldn't book the venue on the tour he was on. The Brian gig in Liverpool was just what I needed after my return to The Empire, perhaps I am asking for too much, but, it would be great to see Brian perform sometime at The Empire! If your ticket for the gig is Row D, Seat 12, after reading this you can understand why I would want to swap tickets with you?!” - Kevin Hughes

“We set off for Manchester early Saturday morning one day in September 1979. I had to bribe my brother in-law(not a Queen fan) with the promise of a ticket and petrol money as I couldn't drive at the time. We arrived at Manchester Apollo before opening hours but found to my horror that they'd already been open an hour. We got to within sight of the ticket office and the inevitable happened - the sold out sign came out. Two long months later, concert day at last. I had a stomach like a child on Christmas Eve. I had a few cans on the way (Tartan bitter, remember them?) When we parked up I was physically sick due to the excitement of course(nothing to do with beer, honest). After a bit of banter in the queue we finally got to our seats. We weren't near the front but with it being a theatre we were never going to be that far from the stage. The lights dimmed, there was dry ice everywhere, the pizza oven began to rise, then Queen exploded on to the stage singing We Will Rock You. The crowd rose as one everybody jumping up and down like demented animals. We had a burst of Millionaire Waltz, Brian playing piano on Save Me. The crowd kept on singing Crazy Little Thing Called Love long after the music had finished and Freddie doing the dance he did in the video. I remember singing Love Of My Life the whole way through with the crowd as Freddie listened, then singing it all again with him. Roger's big drums, Brian's guitar solo, then Freddie and the boys whipping the crowd into another frenzy with Bohemian Rhapsody, Sheer Heart Attack and Tie Your Mother Down. Then Freddie on the shoulders of Superman singing We Will Rock You and then the song to end all concerts - We Are The Champions. As that was my first Queen concert, it was a very special one for me. I was lucky enough to see them six times and I can say "hand on heart" every show was a different experience. I think some of you will know what I mean. I'm no writer(as you can probably tell) so I hope this all makes sense to you and I hope you got a little bit of the excitement and emotion I had in 1979.” - Ducksoup

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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nellie-elizabeth · 3 years

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The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Truth (1x05)

Well, okay then.

Cons:

I've complained about the uneven time given to Sam and Bucky, and while I appreciate where this episode went with everything, it did shine a further light on how little Sam has had to do all season. How his growth has been happening in the background to other things. I wish the balance could have been changed a little.

I also continue to be less interested in the Flag Smashers than I am in anything else in the show. Not the ideology or how they function politically in this world, but the actual individual characters. Spending time getting to know them makes sense, it humanizes their struggles and what they're willing to sacrifice for their cause. But I just don't find Karli to be a particularly compelling individual, so it makes those scenes a slough to get through.

The opening fight scene between Sam, Bucky, and John Walker was good, but it wasn't great. The whole time I was watching it I kept thinking about the Tony/Steve/Bucky fight at the end of Civil War, three men fighting, the shield pinging between them. So much angst and desperation and history and weight to the whole thing. This fight should have been like that, but instead it felt a little more measured. Sam and Bucky are fighting to take the shield away from a dangerous man who has clearly lost control. It almost felt like they were just doing a job. Their connection to the shield was muted during the fight itself, which made that final beat, when Bucky throws the shield down at Sam's side and walks off, hit a little less hard.

And that's one other thing - I loved the Sam and Bucky talk, of course I did. Bucky needed to apologize and it was great to see. But what changed Bucky's mind? We see Sam's journey, but Bucky starts the episode still in that mindset of blaming Sam, and then he comes and helps with the boat, and then he apologizes. What made him realize that he needed to adjust his perspective? I wish I could have understood that a bit more. The only scene we get of him on his own is with Zemo, and that bit of closure seems wholly disconnected to the stuff with the shield.

Pros:

This is a small thing, but I've gotta bring it up: when Bucky is apologizing to Sam, he says "when Steve told me what he was planning"... and when I tell you I screamed... this is literally so important to me. I hate the end of Endgame for Steve. I truly do. The one thing that makes it bearable is the head-canon that he cleared it with Bucky first, that Bucky knew, before Steve left to go return the stones, what he was going to do. And now we have actual canon confirmation that that was the case! I am so incredibly moved by that, I can't even tell you.

But let's talk about that whole scene, shall we? I feel like I could ramble on about it for quite some time, but I'll just say that seeing them throw the shield around like a damn football was so... funny? But also sweet? There's something here about men and how they communicate and how hard it can be to break down the walls and be vulnerable. They manage it because they frame it around a physical activity, with the shared symbol of complicated national loyalties bouncing around between them. Also, the shared symbol of their dead friend Steve. It opens up something between them, allowing Sam to give his "tough love" advice. Allowing Bucky to give a heartfelt apology. It's the stuff they never would have said to each other in that therapy session, but they can say it now, and that's beautiful. The best moment for me, and it was really subtle, was Bucky handing the shield to Sam, saying sorry. Then Sam continues to throw it against the trees and let it bounce back, and he does it specifically so Bucky can catch it again. So there's this almost ceremonial hand-off, and then Sam, magnanimous, lets Bucky know it's still a part of him too.

And Bucky talking about the shield as his family? Yes please. I love it so much. This scene really wrapped up Bucky's arc for me on this show, in a way I hadn't known to expect. Sam tells him that Steve is gone, and that it doesn't matter what Steve thought, or what he meant. Bucky needs to stop defining himself solely by other people. This doesn't mean the struggle is over. Bucky's got a long road ahead. But he understands that road now, and Sam helped him to find his way, which I think is just the loveliest thing.

Another thing about the way these men communicate, is that the apology was necessary, and it was good that it happened, but even before that apology, Bucky showed up and helped with the boat. He fished for an invite to stay, and Sam gave it without question. They joke about being "partners", no, "co-workers," "just two guys who had a mutual friend," but the fact is, they're a part of each other's lives, and they come through for each other. Even with lingering resentments.

I'll talk briefly about Zemo here before we get into the Sam stuff in this episode... I kind of love that he went gently with the Wakandans. It was so different from what I expected, and yet it also followed logically from everything we knew about him from Civil War. It felt like a natural button to his arc on this show. And him telling Bucky that there's no resentment on his end... I mean, on the one hand, I sure as fuck would hope not, given what Zemo tried to do to Bucky. But also that's the point, isn't it? Sam says as much during the tough love speech. Bucky needs to make amends by being of service, by giving closure to the people he hurt as the Winter Solider. Even if they were bad people. Even if they don't "deserve" it.

I still worry about the optics of Sam taking on the shield instead of retiring it permanently. But I was impressed by how far the show was willing to go in explaining the weight of that choice. Isaiah doesn't say some party line like "I love America but these were some bad people." He doesn't say "things were bad then but they're better now." No. He says the truth, which is that America did this to him. It wasn't one bad actor sneaking through an otherwise benevolent system. It was a corrosive, systemic issue that ruined his life, separated him from his loved ones, forced him to hide away and live as a dead man. And he's telling Sam that it's still like that. Oh, sure, things have changed. But not as much as they need to, and not in the ways that really count for a lot, a lot of people.

I respect that the show laid this out, didn't pull its punches in stating this reality. Sam is being positioned as perhaps naïve, overly optimistic, in still wanting to take that pain and make something good from it. Overly optimistic? Willing to jump into situations that are too big for any one man to manage, no matter what? Well, if there's a list of qualifiers for Captain America, I'd say Sam fits the bill just as much, if not more, than Steve did.

And we see that Sam has a community, a history, a deep connection to his sister and his nephews and all the people his parents knew back in the day. I'm a sucker for a good moment like the one we got with the boat, everyone turning up to help. And then Sarah saying that they can't sell it after all... it's just so moving. Sam's fighting the big fights and the small ones, and that makes him worthy of being an exemplar of human excellence. If he wants to fight that fight while holding the shield, I would trust him to try and turn the symbol into something worthy.

Briefly, I want to talk about Lemar. That scene where John went to his parents was really interesting, because it showed that opinions on these very serious issues are by no means shared universally. You've got Isaiah saying that no black man with any self respect would ever take up the shield. Then you've got Lemar's parents saying how proud their son was to be Captain America's partner. It's a lot more complicated than people want to make it. Things would be simpler if we all agreed that America sucks and its history and legacy is negative and racist and therefore let's burn the whole thing to the ground. But there are a lot of people, a lot of black Americans, who like being Americans, who are proud to serve their country. It's not an attitude I know how to understand, but pretending it doesn't exist isn't doing anyone any favors. I like that we saw this aspect of it, too.

A couple last tidbits, moments I really enjoyed.

- Bucky flirting with Sarah.

- Sam's nephews playing with the shield, Bucky waking up and smiling at the sight.

- The super relevant, super hard to hear scene at the end of all the government officials getting ready to round up refugees and march them back across borders... like, damn.

- Bucky forgetting he has a metal arm, but then later using it to save Sam some trouble on the boat.

This was a great episode. Do I have qualms about the arc of the series as a whole? Yes I do. I'll be very curious to see where everything lands in next week's finale. But in all, this one was a winner in my books.

9/10

#review #fatws #fatws review #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier review #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier review

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intoafandom · 3 years

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Why I like Kevan Miller, Steven Kampfer, Trent Frederic, Torey Krug, Tuukka Rask etc and why I will continue to like them.

(Sorry this is soooo long but it’s the only way I can explain)

So last night I got an anon ask and the person was asking why I like Kevan Miller when he’s a republican and I mentioned how I would make a separate post explaining my reasoning better and now that I have the time and its no longer 3 am, now seems like a good time lol.

So I’m gunna give a backstory about the players above that I mentioned and why a lot of bruinsblr doesn’t like them (so people that may not be aware know the context of why people are upset/dont like them). Most of bruinsblr doesn’t like Miller or Kampfer because they’re republicans. Everyone on bruinsblr is allowed to dislike them if they choose to. I recognize I’m in the minority on this app when I say I like and support Kevan Miller and Steven Kampfer. People on here also don’t like Torey Krug for the same reason and because he follows/followed Trump’s twitter account (since trumps account got deleted, torey now follows the “trump archives” account). People on here don’t like Tuukka anymore because over the summer, during all the blm stuff in the bubble, Tuukka went on tv in the bubble for an interview with a hat that said “Boston police” on it (the interview also aired right after the Bruins Organization posted about how they stand against racism, so people ended up calling Tuukka a racist hypocrite.) Last night, people on here found out that Trent Frederic follows Trump supporters and republicans on social media, which is why he’s losing some fans on this app. There are probably more stories about other players that I’m not aware of as well but these will be the ones I’m focusing on for now.

I am NOT going to start talking about my political opinions or my position on social issues. My account is called IntoAFandom for a REASON. So I can escape the real world and go “into a fandom” and have some peace. That’s why i never reblog or like or post about any real world events or issues. I want my blog to be solely about things, fandoms, and people that I love and care about. I don’t wanna come on my blog and see how a bombing happened or if someone got shot or this president signed this executive order etc etc. i wanna come on my blog and fangirl about Bucky Barnes being a sweetheart with kids or how amazing Matt Grzelcyk is at “tight turns” etc etc. Hence the name “IntoAFandom.”

I’m getting a lot of questions as to why I still support these players and I’ll definitely answer those questions in this post. Just so my mutuals know where I stand on this.

Now obviously it would be super easy for me to just go “well the player is super nice so i dont care about their political views.” And while that’s partially true for me, its not the only reason. For me, the reason is much deeper than that. I’ve never mentioned or talked about or even said it out loud. I touched upon what I’m about to say in that anon ask I got last night, but I’m going to go into detail now. It’s kind of hard to explain and the only way I can describe it is to tell you about my hockey journey up until this point, and specifically the 2018-19 season.

So one day in April in 2018, I was on school vacation and I was very bored. There was literally nothing on tv. However, as I was scrolling through the channels, I saw that a bruins game was on. I had never really watched hockey before in my life and the only experience I could remember having with it was when my mom was obsessed with them in like 2013 and how she set up this whole contraption to try and watch a game when a snowstorm made us lose connection. So with nothing else on the tv, crippling boredom, and being a Massachusetts native, I put the game on. It was literally just starting and the national anthem was about to start. We were playing the leafs lmao and it was game five or six of the series probably. I cant really remember because I didn’t think I would care this much about hockey at the time of watching it. But what I do remember was how CREEPY Tuukka looked😂 He was just standing there alone with a huge spotlight on him, head down, wearing these huge pads and looking straight up terrifying. I literally started laughing because of how creepy he looked. And then he put his cool ass mask on and right there I knew he was my favorite player. And to this day he is still my favorite. Tuukka was the first hockey player I EVER knew and could remember by name. I gotta admit, at first I thought his name was “Tuuk Arask” because that’s what it sounded like whenever the announcers would say it, specifically Jack Edwards lol. But then I was like “wait is it Arask or Rask” and after looking at his jersey like 3 games later I finally realized it was actually Rask lol. And I was like “Tuukka Rask. So freaking creepy lol. He’s my favorite.” I also have to mention that I’ve always been a sucker for people that play positions that no one else wants to play. Like for example, when I first started watching football in like 2014, my first ever favorite player was Stephen Gostkowski because he was the kicker. He was super good and he was instantly my fav. That’s what Tuukka was like for me. This huge, tall ass, creepy ass, goalie who was playing super well. How could i NOT like him. I didn’t really bother to learn any other players on the bruins team since they got eliminated in the second round. I remember saying to my mom “I don’t want them to be out. I wanna learn more.” I wanted to know more about the game and 6 games, or however many it was, wasn’t enough. So for some reason, I followed them throughout the offseason and in late September/early October I started watching a ton of their older games on YouTube. Not super old obviously, but games from like 2013-2017 ish. Just whatever I could find. And it was so interesting. I tried to only watch games where they actually won so I wasn’t wasting my time lol, but not having to worry about the score helped me start learning the game and some of the rules, like what an icing was for example. So then preseason games started and I got more into it. And then the beginning of the 2018-19 season started. I still didn’t really know any players besides Tuukka, even though I was watching YouTube games. The YouTube ones were more for me to learn the game and the rules rather than players (however, looking back, I did notice that Kevan Miller was a freaking beast, but I just didn’t acknowledge who he actually was. I just saw a player going absolute sicko mode and being like YEEEEAAAAH). The second player I could actually remember by name was Danton Heinen. I noticed he was playing really well and I was like omg who is that and I learned his name and he became one of my favorites with Tuukka. Next was Anders Bjork. I remember I was texting my friends and was trying to make it seem like I wasn’t a complete amateur at hockey knowledge, so I was like “hey guys, Bjork is back in the line up😃” and so I always remembered his name. Next was Ryan Donato because he was literally AWAYS smiling. Every time he was on camera he was SMILING. I loved it so much he was like a little bean. And so he was one of my favorites and i had a top three with him, heino and tuuks.

Now I was watching games and slowly learning important names like Chara, Bergeron, Marchand etc but it wasn’t really on my radar to actually learn all the players because I hadn’t even done that with the patriots who I had been watching and loving for yeeeears. But that was until I decided to watch a behind the b episode. And I was HOOKED. I instantly began to love and care about every single player on the roster. This was in like February of 2019. And that’s when I started trying to name everyone on the team, including their numbers. I made it a mission. I remember writing out lists in math class because I was so bored and would rather try to memorize hockey players. And that’s when I found bruinsblr. It was march by the time I started to post hockey stuff. And i made an instagram account so I could started editing them. I’ve had this blog since 2014 and its seen many phases, but march of 2019 was when I changed it into a mainly bruins blog. And I remember not knowing what “bruins lb” was and i never wanted to tag it because I thought it was like a club or something that I would be intruding on😂 So I started posting and reblogging bruins stuff and posting sucky bruins edits on here and on my insta account. And I started watching every single behind the b episode from every season and I was literally obsessed with the team. And then Donato got traded and i was heartbroken cuz I loved him and I was like Coyle is gunna have to wow me to get me to like him and he DID and i LOVE HIM. But then I decided to have a top five instead of a top three. And it was Tuukka, Krug, DeBrusk, Pasta, and Marchy. They were the players I noticed the most. And Marchy started LICKING people how could i not choose him😂 So then the playoffs come and we beat the leafs in game 7 AGAIN (and I literally missed the first two periods because I was at my confirmation) But I finally understood all the memes about the leafs and I finally understood hockey and hockey culture by this point. I knew the rules, the players, the memes, literally everything. And then we make it to the finals and get lil nas x singing old town road before game 1 and we get JD wearing that stupid hat😂 and the two people from The Office (one of them wanted the bruins to win and the other wanted the blues) and it was all just amazing for me. Then we lost and i was devastated. And we had to see pictures of CMac sobbing on the ice and JD sitting alone in his stall crying and all of them were so sad and after that journey we just went through i was fvcking crying too. We didn’t win, but that 2018-19 season is SO special for me.

The people on this roster (minus gemel smith and lee stempniak) are EXTREMELY special to me. They TAUGHT me hockey. They turned me on to an entirely new culture. I got to experience my first real bit of hockey. I got to experience EVERYTHING about hockey with them (besides the cup) in this ONE season of hockey. I saw the preseason games in china, the halloween visit to to the hospital, Chara bringing pies to the homeless, them buying toys for kids in the hospital at Christmas then visiting them, the new years game outside against the hawks, trade deadline crushing my heart, every round of the playoffs, players pushing through crazy injuries, loving players, despising other teams, all the memes, all the jokes, all the players. Everything. The 2018-19 season is SO incredibly special for me because it’s the first time I ever experienced real hockey and watched an entire season. The people on that roster mean so much to me because of that. Now take a look at the names on that roster. Rask. Krug. Miller. Kampfer. Frederic. They all helped me experience my first year of hockey. Freddy in his first freaking game, getting into a fight😂 Miller and Kampfer were BEASTS on the ice. Krug being a SPECTACULAR little defenseman, quarterbacking the pp and sticking up for himself and SLAMMING thomas. Tuukka Rask being the brick wall. There is no way that I could ever dislike the people on that roster unless the did something suuuuuper bad. I don’t know if you would call it hero worship or whatever, but those people on that roster are so fucking special to me. Even ones like JFK and Vaak and Colby that didn’t play that many games. They still made an impact for me as a hockey fan. THAT is the main reason why I will never stop liking and supporting tuuks, krugger, kampfs, millsy, or freddy. Everyone on that roster has a special place in my heart and I’m not going to let their political views change or tamper with the incredible experience they gave me during that 2018-19 season. I wont ever love another team as much as I loved that specific roster. And no one is going to change that for me. I dont care about their political views or whatever. For me, the experience and the feelings they gave me trump anything i may or may not disagree with. That roster is so special to me, I cant bring myself to dislike any of those people. I will always like those players, no matter how republican or democrat or whatever. Political views dont matter to me when it comes to those players.

Now besides all of that and the experience they gave me, I do believe that they’re still good people even tho they may be republican. I wanna start with Tuukka because it literally doesn’t make sense to me. Tuukka is not even AMERICAN. I dont think he cares that much about American politics since im pretty sure most his family lives in Finland. People got mad at him for wearing a Boston police hat. But I think those people are forgetting that Tuukka has been in boston for soooo long. There have probably been multiple occasions where the police had to help him or the team for some reason or another (they are technically famous after all). Tuukka wearing a hat that says Boston Police doesn’t make him a bad person. He was probably just showing support to the people that helped support HIM as well as his family and teammates. I follow Tuukka on insta and he literally NEVER posts anything political. Probably because NEVER actually posts ANYTHING at all lol. Tuukka had been my favorite from the start and theres almost nothing he could ever do that would make me dislike him.

As for the other 4, and any other players on the team that may be republican (honestly i bet most of them are because 1) most hockey players are and 2) a lot of the guys are christian/catholic and most christian/catholic people are republican as well) I choose to believe that political opinions dont make you a bad person. I like to believe that it depends on the circumstances for every individual. Now I’m not gay or black or anything. Im an 18 year old, straight white girl. So obviously i dont know what its really like for someone to hate or disagree with my race, sexuality, etc. I saw someone say (sorry I forget who it was) that they keep thinking “well what would that player say about me because im gay. What would they actually think about me. I cant support them.” And honestly that’s extremely valid. I never thought about it that way before. So if Kevan Miller for example was out here posting a bunch of homophobic stuff like “i hate gays” or “gays are all stupid” or anything like that, then yeah my opinions on him would probably change in some way. But I follow him on insta and i know the stuff he post about. I have NEVER seen him say anything like that. Ive never heard any bruin say anything like that. From what I’ve seen, they all seem like super nice, sweet, supportive people when they’re off the ice. (I think it’s also important to mention that I follow EVERYONE on the 2018-19 roster. I follow all of their instas. Most of them dont have twitter, but I follow all the ones that do. It’s part of the whole “that roster is incredibly special to me” thing). I choose to believe that following republicans or being one yourself doesn’t automatically make you a bad person, especially when you consider the different circumstances that every individual is under as humans. We all experience different things and that always plays a role in how you act or the opinions you have or the people you support. Someone’s political opinions have never stopped me from liking people. Ive clearly shown that I don’t mind republicans at all, but that doesn’t mean im going to dislike democrats either. Most of the actors/ singers that i like are democrats. And it just happens that most of the athletes i like are republicans. The political stuff doesn’t matter to me. I just dont want it being slapped in my face 24/7. I dont care if you’re a republican or democrat as long as you aren’t constantly talking to me about politics or social issues or trying to change my mind on stuff. Hopefully you can try to see my point of view on this and UNDERSTAND why I like them. Again, I’ve never told my hockey story to anyone so please don’t try and invalid my feelings about the season or the players.

Please, I beg, please don’t comment on this calling racist or something. Please dont try and change me mind. Please dont tell me i need to educate myself. I know WHY i like these players. I know where they stand politically and who they support. But these players are too special to ME for me to actually give a sht about if they like trump or not. Honestly tho, feel free to give your opinion (especially if you’re gay or black or anything) cuz i dont mind hearing other standpoints as long as you aren’t mean about it or try to change my mind. If i change my mind, which i probably wont, I want it to be on my own terms. Please remember that we ARE still a hockey family 💛🖤💛

(Also I’m NEVER talking about this again. If anyone ever asks or something like this comes up again im just gunna link/ reblog this post)

(Also, thank you to whoever made it this far and actually read all of that. ESPECIALLY if you’re someone that doesn’t agree with me. Its good to hear multiple standpoints on this stuff.)

#boston bruins #bruins #torey krug #brad marchand #tuukka rask #jake debrusk #charlie mcavoy #patrice bergeron #zdeno chara #matt grzelcyk #kevan miller #steven kampfer #trent frederic

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alcalavicci · 3 years

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So there’s a really interesting interview with Deborah Pratt here. If you don’t want to pay for it, I’ll paste what I can below, but a few points first.

Deborah says she doesn’t know where Dean is, and says she misses him. I guess she hasn’t had contact with him since he left for NZ? And with Russ Tamblyn saying Dean’s hanging in there in answer to a recent Twitter question, that brings up more questions about his condition.

Deborah claims she came up with the idea of Quantum Leap, which I’ve never seen come up before. Also Don wanted to send Sam home?? I feel like she’s misremembering a lot of details/making herself seem better than she is.

“Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap accelerator and vanished… He woke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time tht his next leap will be the leap home…”

The premise of Quantum Leap succinctly and empathetically explained by a voice that spoke to viewers week to week, setting the scene at the opening of the episode. It is a voice that left an indelible print on the show, from its inception to its finale. This is the voice of its Head Writer. No, not Donald P. Bellisario, but a woman of color who was leaps ahead of her time – co-executive producer and uncredited co-creator, Deborah M. Pratt.

Deborah wrote or co-wrote 40 episodes of this sci-fi gem and her authorship of the show runs deep through its five seasons. Aside from the opening narration, Deborah is audible as the voice of Admiral Al Calavicci’s pocket computer, Ziggy. She also guest stars in the episode ‘A Portrait for Troian’ (S2, Ep11) as a grieving widow who hears the voice of her husband calling her.

Deeper still, Quantum Leap was a family affair. It was co-created with her husband at the time, Bellisario, and their daughter, also named Troian, appears as a little girl in ‘Another Mother’ (S2, Ep13, who can not only see Al, but also sees Sam as he really is, rather than as her recently divorced mom.

Prior to helming Quantum Leap, Deborah rose through the ranks as an actress, racing the screen in Happy Days, CHiPS, The Dean Martin Show and many more, and was also a writer on shows such as Airwolf and Magnum P.I. She is a five-time Emmy nominee, Golden Globe nominee and winner of countless other awards. She went on to produce CBS comedy cop show, Tequila and Bonetti, and then to co-create and produce the TV series adaptation of Sandra Bullock tech thriller, The Net. But Quantum Leap was Deborah’s brainchild – one which is emblazoned on the hearts of its faithful fans.

Deborah has since moved into directing, including on hit show Grey’s Anatomy (2020), but was generous with her time when spoke in late 2020 to leap back into the past.

It does seem that you were really ahead of your time as a female head writer and a showrunner in the ’90s, especially in science fiction TV. Was it hard for you to progress and to get Quantum Leap made?

“Usually women were relegated to comedy, very rarely was it drama or heavy drama. It’s changed, finally, with people like Shonda Rhimes (Grey’s Anatomy, Bridgerton, Scandal). But yes, I was a true pioneer, even though I don’t have a ‘created by’ credit, it was a ‘co-created by’ show – with Don. I brought him the original concept, and we were married, and he said ‘Let me just run with this. I can get it made.’ And to his credit, he understands how to tell a story to the audience. He simplified it in a way that you could welcome Quantum Leap into the world. But it was still a tough show to sell.

“I think we went back three times to pitch it to the network. It was complicated to explain. Brandon Tartikoff [the executive] said ‘It’s a great idea – It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen on TV. Let me think about it.’ Then he asked us to come back, ‘I want you to pitch it to me like I’m six years old, then pitch it to me like I’m 80 years old’ and finally he took it. Then even after the show first aired, they decided to introduce that opening where I tell the story. That was created to explain every week to a new viewer what was going on and it worked really well.”

On rewatch now, the best part of three decades later, the show feels groundbreaking in terms of the subjects you cover. Did you feel like you were pushing the envelope?

“I feel we got to do so much on that show. I remember when I did ‘Black on White on Fire’ [S3, Ep7], the networks in the South in the United States wouldn’t air it because it was a black/white relationship. Even though there is no scene where you see a black person and a white person being intimate.

You saw Sam, who was white, and the girl who was white, but because he was playing someone who was black, it was an issue. They wouldn’t air the show in the South. This was around 1992.

“It was challenging for sure. I think we pushed the limits.

“The beauty of the show too, was that it was about hope, which I see so little of on television today. Everything’s so dark, so mean, so vicious, bloody – how many people can you kill? How mean can you make your lead characters and antiheroes. I think it’s why I didn’t work as much afterwards. A) I was a woman, and B) a black woman. There weren’t any black female executive producers that I knew of in drama. I got to do The Net because it had a female lead, but that was almost ten years after Quantum Leap was created. Any show I brought in that had a black lead was never bought, or a female lead, was never bought.

“I remember I wrote a big action piece – like an Indiana Jones, but female-driven, feature film – and pitched it and the studio executive said, ‘Yeah, yeah, but when did the guy come and rescue her?’ And I said, ‘She doesn’t – she rescues him.’ The look on his face. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

The show darted around TV schedules, but the fans remained with it, and still to this day hold it dear to their hearts. Was that palpable at the time, or has that grown since?

“I think near the end of the first season, Harriet Margulies [Production Assistant on the show] found a chat room after an episode where people from across the country talked about it and it became the ‘watercooler.’ We were the first television show that had a chat room as a watercooler. Before that, it was literally you going into your office and standing around the watercooler and talking about movies or TV shows you were watching. Suddenly, it was online. So we started to go into the chat room and talk to people about what they liked and what they didn’t. Not necessarily telling them who we were, but that fan base is what kept us on the air because the network didn’t know what to do with us. There was no show like it, so they couldn’t like pair us with anybody.

“In the five years we were on, I think they moved the show six times and the fans still found it, they followed it, they watched it. That’s how we knew we had something unique and special. To this day, I’ll go into a meeting with a young executive who’ll go, ‘I have to tell you, I loved Quantum Leap. I used to watch it with my mom and dad’.”

Scott Bakula was such a great hero and heartthrob as Dr. Sam. What was he like to work with?

“He was so approachable, you know, in the sense that he had this great, easy acting style. He took chances and he was likeable – in a way that he could be a man’s man and a woman’s man at the same time. He’s really a brilliant actor. I am saddened by the fact that he has not had the opportunity to do movies in the way that could really have lifted his career. He’s had an incredibly successful television career. He’s a good actor. He’s a kind man. I’ve always admired him and felt like when we were working together, I had a friend that I loved to write for because he was always so giving and willing and wanting to take chances as an actor. So it was fun to go down to the trailer and say, ‘Guess what? You’re going to be pregnant this week’.

He does everything in the show from sing and dance to baseball, football, hopping over car bonnets to fights and martial arts. Did you know he had such a wide skill set from the outset, or did you write the challenges for him to rise to?

“I think we had conversations with him about that. I also knew that he had been on Broadway doing musicals. I knew he could sing and dance. When I wrote ‘Sea Bride’ [S2, Ep20], I wrote a tango number – that was unique for him. When Don knew that he could play the guitar… We asked Scott, ‘What do you want to do?’ And he said he wanted to do a musical and I think that’s how the ‘Catch a Falling Star’ episode [S2, Ep10] came about, which involves a performance of ‘Man of LaMancha’.”

Admiral Al Calavicci – he’s so much more than wisecracking and surface jokes or flirtation. There’s so much depth to his character. Was that fleshed out early on with an end to end journey for him in mind, or did his character evolve through the seasons?

“It was a little bit of both. Dean Stockwell had been on Broadway at five-years-old and had been a major child movie star. I remember when we wrote the show where Sam had the chance to save Al – ‘The Leap B4, Ep1] – he was so good in that. I’ll never forget how beautiful that was. And then in the very, very end, I love the fact that Sam did change history and Al ended up wih his beautiful wife with five kids.

“I remember once asking Dean, ‘Do you want us to write more drama for you? Big dramatic moments?’ And he said, ‘I want you to look at me right now. I want you to tell me what you see.’ And I said, ‘Well, your performance, the pain, fear and loss and all that, because you’re such an incredible actor.’ And he said ‘For me to perform that, I have to be it and live it. So don’t do too many.’

“He had that depth of acting talent. He is so good – Dean, wherever you are, I love you. I miss you.”

The episodes that follow later in the seasons involving celebrities – Sam as Elvis, Dr. Ruth, or Lee Harvey Oswald, was that kind of a direction that you always foresaw? It feels like a sea change as the show progressed.

“The stories were designed, for the most part, to be so, so simple in that they were everyday stories. They weren’t change-the-world stories. I think the biggest one was Lee Harvey Oswald, and maybe the one involving Marilyn Monroe – those were with people that could have had a ripple effect.

“But there were other little kisses with history in the show, but they were very hard to do. They ran into a child version of Donald Trump in a taxi cab, [‘It’s A Wonderful Leap’ – S4, Ep18], then they ran into a little boy who is supposed to be Michael Jackson – Sam teaches him to moonwalk [‘Camikazi Kid’ – S1, Ep8]. The first time I did a kiss with history was ‘Star-Crossed’ [S1, Ep3] – Sam meets up with the woman that left him at the altar and they’re at the Watergate Hotel. That was fun stuff.”

Sam managed to awkwardly kiss lots of ladies in that sense of ‘Oh God, they’re going to kiss me and I’ve got to be this person, what am I supposed to do.’

“We never, ever really discussed what happened to Sam. We didn’t want him to be encumbered by a relationship. But I didn’t get to kiss him. My husband wouldn’t leave the set on the episode I was in!”

Your move into directing – from your TV drama Cora Unashamed back in 2000, to Grey’s Anatomy just last year. Is that something you wanted to do sooner? Were there barriers prohibiting you?

“I was supposed to direct on Quantum Leap four times. Every time it was coming up, something would happen. The only women who directed on the show were two black women – Debi Allen [Fame, Everybody Hate Chris, Jane the Virgin] and the other was a woman named Anita Addison. They each did two shows.

I said, ‘If I’m not doing this, I want black women.’ There were no other black women. And it was a fight. I tried to get black women directors on the show, but I could never get them past.

Then when I went to do The Net, the studio blocked it. I give huge amounts of credit for executive producing to Shonda Rhimes and what she has been able to do. She did what I thought I was going to be able to do. She’s so talented and I’m such a fan of her and her shows. I’m looking forward to what she’s going to do on Netflix. And it was an honour to do Grey’s Anatomy because I’m a fan of the show and I’m really grateful to have that opportunity.”

Has there been progress in terms of female directors and filmmakers being given opportunities?

“It’s very hard for women because there aren’t a lot of women executives at the studios. There are more now. And so there is an evolution that’s happening, but it still feels slow. There were shows run by people I gave opportunities to back in the day, but when I said, “hey, I want to direct on your show,” the response was, “oh, there’s too much machismo. There’s too many male hormones around here. They’ll eat you alive.” And I went, “no, they won’t, you’ll protect me. How about if I do my job?” And that was only last year. But there are more opportunities. There are more women making decisions, but we have to do more because women’s stories and women’s voices are more than half the population – we need to hear those stories. The historic ones as well as the contemporary ones.”

Is there a leap that was your favourite overall? That you feel made you made your mark with?

“’The Color of Truth’ [S1, Ep7] touched so many people and it opened a dialogue. I remember we got a letter from a teacher who said she brought the VHS in and she played it to her class, up until Jesse [Sam as an ageing black chauffeur in ’50s Deep South] goes and sits down at the counter in the restaurant. Then she stopped it and asked the students what they thought happened next. They thought that he just ordered lunch. And then she played the rest and that hostility and the animosity he endures and the fact that he had to get up and leave really incensed these children. They had never heard of or experienced racism. They didn’t want to believe that it really happened. This is how history gets buried and why television is so powerful and important. It opened a conversation that she could not have necessarily had in her classroom, according to her, had she not brought that show in to share with her students.

“We had another letter that was very moving, and I want to say it might’ve been ‘The Leap Home’ [S2, Ep1-2]. There was a couple who wrote and said they had a child that was on a cancer ward and every Thursday the whole ward would watch Quantum Leap. Their child was dying and they had kind of given up and it was just time to help that child transition out of this world. They watched the show and she said, ‘We realized we gave up hope. When we watched the show, we realized we didn’t have to give up hope and we wanted to write to you. It’s now six months later and the crisis has passed. The cancer is in remission. Our child is up and going back to school. And we just want to thank you for reminding us that hope has its own power’.”

Its power and poignancy has never diminished. Though the final episode, ‘Mirror Image’ (S5, Ep22), with the caption saying Sam doesn’t get to go home, does leave a sucker punch.

“That was our last fight. Don was going to send him home. And I said, ‘You can’t, you can’t send him home. If you ever, ever, which we’ve not ever been able to get Universal to let us do it, want to do a movie… If you want to keep the story going, you have to leave Sam out there in the hearts of people, leaving people thinking he could leap into their lives’. And at first Don said, ‘No, no, we need to bring him home’. And I said, ‘Do not bring him home. Or you will end the show. If you leave the hope out there, that Sam is out there and he could leap into your life and make a difference’. You keep the show alive in the hearts and the minds of the fans. And I think I was right.”

The ending was poetic for me as a viewer, but your point about Sam still being out there – Is there a leap back to the future for Quantum Leap?

“I started writing a project called Time Child about Sammy Jo Fuller. I actually wrote a trilogy in Season 5 where Sam leapt back three times into the same family and the second time he leapt he ended up in bed with this character and conceived a child. Then the third time he leapt in, he met her at 10 years old – a girl named Sammy Jo Fuller. So in my vision, Sammy Jo Fuller grows up. I actually have Al say, ‘Sammy is in the future with me. We’re trying to bring you home.’ That was my set-up way back in 1993, in Season 5, to say someday, Sammy Jo being his daughter might take over….

“This was the ’90s. Women heroes didn’t exist really – other than comic books – Wonder Woman was there, Super Girl was there. But I set it up in the show that Sammy Jo was going to bring him home. Sadly, I have not been able to get Don and the studio to give me the green light for Time Child. It might happen someday.”

Right now, it feels like we need more shows that offer hope. Is there a place for a reboot on streaming platforms?

“Universal keep saying they want to bring it back. They’re not going to give it up to Netflix because they have [US streaming service] Peacock now and still have NBC. I personally think it should be on a full blown network. The hard part would be that it would have to be recast if there was a female version using my character Sammy Jo Fuller. Or if they just redid the show, it would be interesting in the sense that there was such an innocence about the show. I still believe that there is an audience out there that wants it, that longs for looking at the past through the eyes of somebody in the present. But who would that person be if you did the show now, what are those eyes like?

“We’re living in the time of COVID and suddenly you go back in time. How do you warn people that this is going to happen? How do you warn people about 9/11? How do you warn people about things in the future?

“I mean, one of the beauties of that innocence too, and I thought that was a great gift from Don to the concept, was that Sam’s memory as Swiss cheese – he didn’t remember things and that made it a lot easier, and Al was not allowed to tell him what was happening in the present. There’s a lot of detail woven into the mythology that allowed it to be innocent and in the moment of time travel. You didn’t have to drag the future back with you.”

Do you have an actress in mind to play Sammy Jo in a reboot?

“Oh my gosh, Jennifer Garner. I always felt she would be a great female Sam. She’s an ‘every woman.’ She’s funny. She does great drama. When I think of a female Sam or even Sammy Jo, I think Jennifer – in a heartbeat. She’s so great in Alias. That show just never stopped. You couldn’t take a breath. If I had to go younger, somebody that would have that kind of believable humour that you think could actually rescue you – maybe Jennifer Lawrence. She’s pretty formidable in that sense.”

“To bring Quantum Leap back. If they’re thinking about it, now’s the time to happen. Tell people to write to Universal! Write for the attention of Pearlena Igbokwe – if anyone can bring it back, she can do it. Write! Write to Pearlena – she’s the one that’ll make it happen. That’s how we stayed on the air for five and a half years. Fans unite and write!”

#quantum leap #article

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Up in the Air” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt is heartbroken after his plans for a romantic Christmas with Blaine are demolished when he gets locked into a flight he'd been trying to switch. Blaine reassures him that it will be okay, that they'll have their romantic celebration when Kurt's feet are back on the ground. But is Blaine possibly hiding a secret that just might sweep Kurt off his feet? (1638 words)

Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'join'.

Read on AO3.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Kurt grumbles, rushing down the corridor that leads to his gate with his carry-on in tow and his heart pounding, trying to give off the impression that he’s not rushing.

Appearance is everything in the flight attendant game.

He was supposed to get an hour sit before this flight, but the one he was on was late by close to forty-five minutes! He has roughly a minute-and-a-half to reach his destination, covering the distance of two football fields, and that’s not the crappiest part of his day.

“Pick up pick up pick up pick up! Blaine! Ugh!”

This is the fifth time he’s tried to get a hold of his boyfriend to tell him the bad news. Try his hardest, he couldn’t trade this flight out for one that leaves after the holiday.

His plans to join Blaine for a romantic Christmas have officially been canceled.

“Pick up pick up pick up pick up,” he chants as he checks in with security and heads for the boarding area.

“You’re late,” his friend Monica teases.

“I had three seconds to make it here from the complete other side of the airport,” he replies with a forced smile for the waiting passengers. The flight attendants can get away with making snide remarks as long as they keep a smile on their faces.

“At least you did it in flats!"

"Wah wah wah," Kurt teases back, giving Blaine’s number one last try before he'll need to turn off his phone and stow it away for the duration.

He's in for a long night - a soul-crushing series of flights, each one taking him farther and farther away from the man he loves.

Finally, Blaine picks up.

“Hey! Kurt! I was hoping you’d call!”

He sounds eager, Kurt thinks. Shit! “Hey.”

“Are you okay? It sounds like you've been running.”

“I have.” Kurt stops in the crook of the tunnel, out of sight from both doorways, to catch his breath. He has one precious minute before he has to perform his pre-flight checks with the crew. And here he is, spending it breaking a wonderful man’s heart. “Look …” He squeezes his eyelids tight, on the verge of frustrated tears “… I’m sorry, Blaine. It’s not going to happen.”

A moment of confused silence. Then realization. “Oh, no! Shoot!”

“I warned you there was a four percent chance it actually would. It’s impossible to make plans over the holidays. It would have taken a miracle.”

“Yes, but, Christmas is the time for miracles.”

“I know, I know,” Kurt says in a shaky voice. “Don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Blaine says in a soothing voice. “I understand.”

“I know you do.” Kurt sniffles, pulling a handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket and dabbing under his eyes before they can get puffy. “It’s just … I know how I am. I’m the clingy, jealous type. I want to see you 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I don’t want you to resent my work. Or me.”

“Kurt, I could never resent you! I knew what I was getting into. This is one trip you couldn’t switch, and I understand why. This is just a hiccup. That’s all.”

“A hiccup on one of the most important holidays of the year.”

“There will be plenty of time after the holiday rush for us to spend together. I’ll see you soon. We’ll lie in bed together, hold each other in our arms, and it will be better again. You’ll see.”

Kurt nods in response even though Blaine can’t see. “I’m trusting you.”

“I appreciate that.”

Kurt hears footsteps hurry down the ramp, Monica whispering, “Hurry up, Kurt! We have to go!” as she passes. He watches her disappear around the corner and onto the plane. He sighs. “I love you, Blaine.”

“I love you, too. Have a good flight.”

“I will,” Kurt chokes out, blowing a kiss into the phone. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Kurt hangs up and shoves the phone into his pocket. He grabs the handle of his carry-on and continues on his way. Halfway down the ramp, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Before he even takes it out to check it, he knows it’s a message from Blaine.

He should have waited until he got on the plane where there’s a bathroom to duck into because it unravels him more than he is.

I love you, Kurt. And I’m pretty sure I always will.

***

Kurt doesn’t want to be here.

He doesn’t want to be flying over Miami on Christmas Eve.

Not when he has a sexy man at home waiting to see him again.

Kurt loves his job. He really does.

He stumbled into it unexpectedly. It was supposed to be a stop-gap while he worked his way to Broadway - something to pad his bank account, keep food in his belly, and a roof over his head while he got to experience life, hone his craft. And even though he's held on to his dreams of Broadway fame, this job stuck. He has never regretted a single flight in his entire career …

… until this one.

God, what he wouldn’t give to be at home right now, watching cheesy movies on Lifetime, snuggled in Blaine’s arms!

Kurt doesn’t pay much attention to the passengers as he maneuvers the beverage service down the aisle, dishing out Diet Cokes and mini bottles of vodka and Crown Royal. He makes eye contact, nods and smiles, but that's it. He can perform this part of his job on autopilot, has perfected the art of appearing engaged while, in his mind, he goes over notes for an audition or takes a stab at writing his memoirs.

He knows the bare minimum about the passengers on this side of the plane from the things they let slip out of excitement or need - an older lady flying to see her daughter for the first time in ten years, an unaccompanied minor, a row of sorority sisters on a holiday excursion. Everyone is mellow, polite when he stops to ask them what they want from the cart. But there’s always one clown in the bunch.

And Kurt finds his sitting in Row 27, Seat E.

“Soda?” Kurt asks. “Coffee? Tea?”

“A medium drip, please? Or maybe a flat white?”

“A-ha. That's one coffee black for you,” Kurt says, his tone chipper, but sharp around the edges, barely glancing at the man as he hands over his drink.

"Perfect. Thank you, Kurt."

"You're very welcome." Kurt internally groans when the man uses his name. The airline requires all customer-facing employees to wear a name tag for passenger comfort "in a time of need" (or so says the employee literature). In this age of social media, it's used more by the Karens of the world to flame what they consider 'inappropriate conduct' without impunity. All claims are thoroughly investigated, and require passenger and employee corroboration before disciplinary action is taken. But it's gotten to the point that he doesn't Google his name and the name of his airline in the same sentence anymore.

It keeps him sane.

Kurt doesn't mind passengers knowing his name.

Just so long as they never use it.

But this man said Kurt's name like he owns it, and that Kurt doesn't appreciate. Not from strangers.

Kurt's eyes flicker up once it hits him.

He knows that voice.

But how in the hell can it be here?

'I'm projecting,' he thinks. 'I miss my boyfriend, I wish that he was here, but he's not here. No. I'm not going to look at the occupant of this seat and see ...'

“Blaine?” Kurt stares at 27E perplexed. It is him! Unless there's been a gas leak the pilot hasn't told them about yet, Blaine is sitting right there, looking as adorable as ever! Maybe more so, his smile bright and goofy with his master plan revealed. “Blaine!”

“Well, well, well ...” Blaine turns in his seat, attempting a casual recline against the rigid armrest, masking the pain on his face when its sharp edge digs into his back. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I didn’t know you’d be …! Wha---when did you even get a ticket?”

“A few days ago. Your friend Monica helped me with the details. I had to grease a lot of wheels, seeing as most holiday flights were already packed, but I’m on every one of your connections. I figured we can spend your layover together.”

“And what if I had managed to get the time off?”

“I would probably be out close to a few thousand bucks, but it was a chance I was willing to take.” Blaine tilts his head down so he can look coyly up at Kurt through long, thick lashes. “Are you surprised?”

“Yes! I … I don’t know what to say!”

“Say that you love me," Blaine says sincerely. "Say that you’ll have a little more faith in me.”

“I do have faith in you. It’s just sometimes … I don’t have all that much faith in myself. In my overall appeal.”

“Well, your overall appeal is so strong, I spent a small fortune to take this journey with you.” Blaine chuckles when he notices they’ve garnered attention from other passengers, wondering what happened to the drink cart but watching quietly to see the drama unfold. “So why don’t we enjoy the journey? See where it takes us?”

Kurt grins, his cheeks burning when the sorority sisters occupying the seats behind Blaine awww, and the older woman claps.

Kurt rolls his eyes when other passengers join in.

Only at Christmas, he thinks.

Then again, isn't this what he wanted?

His cheesy Lifetime movie?

His improbable Christmas miracle?

Kurt smiles. “That sounds like a plan.”

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: join #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine

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rashfordxbruno · 3 years

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"I am at the point where I feel I want to be open about my condition. I have been diagnosed with ‘mixed dementia’, which is more than one type of dementia, in my case, this being Alzheimer's and Vascular dementia. This has been an extremely difficult year for everyone and the long periods of isolation have certainly not helped.

It is an incredibly challenging and problematic disease and I have witnessed many friends go through this. You hope that it won’t happen to you, even make jokes about it whilst ignoring the early signs because you don’t want it to be true. You get angry, frustrated, confused and then worried, worried for your family, as they will be the ones dealing with it.

However, the time has come to tackle this head on, excuse the pun. I recognise how my brain is deteriorating and how my memory evades me when I don’t want it to and how this causes me distress in situations that are beyond my control. I do understand what is happening and that is why I want to address my situation now whilst I am able, because I know there will be days when I don’t understand and I hate the thought of that right now.

In the height of the pandemic, I said I hoped that if one positive was to come out of it, it would be that it would make people kinder to each other, so that’s what I am hoping for now. I don’t want people to be saddened if I forget places, people or dates because you need to remember I enjoyed all those memories and I am lucky to have experienced what I have in my life…a loving and supportive family, a great career doing what I loved and getting paid to do it, and lifelong friends.

I have good days and bad days and aim to take each day as it comes adjusting my lifestyle accordingly. I hung up my football boots a long time ago and now it’s time to put my signing days behind me too, so apologies to anyone who has sent me anything but I am just not able. I am trying to be positive and determined to continue watching my club, Manchester United at Old Trafford, hopefully this will be a season of success and I am excited by the new signings that Ole and the club have made.

Also, where possible, I would like to continue my involvement with the ‘Denis Law Legacy Trust’, the work the staff and volunteers do in the community is amazing and it makes a real difference.

I know the road ahead will be hard, demanding, painful and ever changing and so ask for understanding and patience as this will not be an easy journey, especially for the people who love you the most.

My daughter, Di, is completing ‘The Thames Bridges Trek’ challenge on 11 September to raise money for the Alzheimer’s Society so, if you can, please donate here.

As a family, we have been offered support by Alzheimer’s Society and have chosen to fundraise for the charity to help support its crucial work. Alzheimer’s Society’s services have never been in more need, used over 5.5 million times since March 2020, and are a lifeline to thousands of families who are also facing a dementia diagnosis.

The charity is also doing amazing work with the sports industry, with its Sport United Against Dementia campaign, which I fully support. This really could make the biggest difference to former players, players, and fans alike."

Thank you

Denis

#manchester united #mufc #denis law #stay strong denis

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amoveablejake · 3 years

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Bases Loaded

All roads lead to Seattle

I know nothing about baseball. Okay no, that is being a bit dramatic. I do actually have some albeit limited knowledge on the great American pastime. I know how the game is played, I know the major league teams and I know a handful of players. And yet, despite my quite clearly limited knowledge of baseball, I absolutely adore the Seattle Mariners.

Where has this adoration come from, I’m not too sure. Well, okay that isn’t quite true. I love the city of Seattle. I should say I love what I’ve seen of it as I have never actually been and you may be thinking how much could he have seen of it, well, it turns out quite a bit. Throughout my life Seattle has always been there be it through television programmes, films, books and even now videogames. I should also make it clear that I don’t intend to seek out Seattle based projects they tend to just appear in front of me. And sure part of this may be confirmation bias as I have noticed it, there is also the chance Chicago could have had the same effect but I’m not noticing it, however, I don’t completely buy that. Seattle is the setting for many of my favourite things, to name only a few ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ one of the films of my life, the seminal masterpiece ‘The Last of Us Part Two’ and ofcourse ‘Frasier’ which anyone who knows me will know is the piece of fiction for me. Yes, not even the television but the fictional piece that I always go back to again and again. I have grown up looking at the Space Needle and reading about Elliott Bay. It does sometimes feel like there is a force pulling me to the Emerald City and I absolutely will go but for now I will make do with my newfound love for its baseball team.

I have been floating in and out of following baseball for a years now, never quite settling on a team to support then not too long ago the highlights of a Mariners game happened to roll across my desk and I thought this is Seattle based so ofcourse I am compelled to watch it. And within seconds of watching the players I was hooked, by the sport yes but mainly the team. A colleague of mine once said to me that you don’t pick a sports team they pick you, they were talking about suddenly falling head over heels for the Green Bay Packers (for those taking notes, my NFL team) when they had no interest in American Football whatsoever before that point. Now granted, there was already fertile ground for the Mariners love to grow however, the adoration really did take me by surprise. The Seattle Mariners feel very much like my team now and I will admit I’m suddenly so devoted to them that it feels wrong to wear the other baseball caps I’ve procured over the years. My head will remain uncovered until it is adorned with a Mariners cap.

Due to the time difference, I wake up to the Mariners’ scores. This is quite the way to start the day because it means either pure elation or me walking to breakfast with my head hanging down like Charlie Brown. But even in those instances I’m okay with that, alright I’m not because now I’m in I’m all in on the Mariners, but its the connection to this team all the way over in Washingston state that feels right. It clicks, the sport of baseball is one I’m very much enjoying, the pace of it is ideal for me as it allows for the time to make notes on whats going on and like Murakami does, to make small stories and poems up about the players. I can’t quite explain it but there’s something about the Mariners that fits into my hygge state of mind, I think what I mean by that is that it just feels right and really although I’m not from Seattle, hell I’m not even from the States, I think thats okay because as I said up top, it seems all roads are leading to the Emerald City and this is another step on that journey.

I’ll see you at the World Series.

-Jake, a man listening to Guaraldi’s ‘Baseball Theme’, ofcourse, 04/09/2021

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goldenpinof · 5 years

Text

so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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robotsandzombiesarebi · 4 years

Text

Looking at the same sky

HSS (CA)

MC (Bailey Westlake)

MC x Skye

Notes: This is my first attempt at a choices fanfic so I hope I can do some justice. This is going to be a few instalments long so bear with it. Hope you enjoy.

————————

Bailey wiped the sweat from her brow as she rushed from table to table, trying to clear with one hand and jot down orders with the other. The Golden Griddle was swarmed with people as it usually was on a Friday evening. Cedar Cove was a nice town, but there wasn’t much of a dating scene which left young couples with the choice of the arcade, the beach or the Golden Griddle. While balancing a small stack of dishes on her bent elbow, Bailey held the note pad and pen, turning to the next table without taking her concentration off of the precariously balanced stack.

“Welcome to the Golden Griddle” She said, breathlessly. “What can I get you?”

“A black coffee…. and a kiss.” Said the soft voice that Bailey could only just notice.

“OK, that’ll be out for you in just a sec.” With that, she rushed to the window that joined the kitchen to the dining room. “Hey Casey. We need 3 Apple pie slices for table six, franks and eggs for table two and a black coffee and a kiss for table five. I’ll get the coffee if you pass out the rest.”

She ran the tap that poured out piping hot water, quickly nudging a cup in to the stream. After stirring in the coffee and setting it on a dish with a few small sugar packets she called back to Casey. “How are those orders coming?”

“Here’s table two and six.” Casey chuckled as he passed the plates through the opening.

“What about table five?”

“Bailey, read the order.”

“I did! Black coffee, which I’ve done, and a…” She stopped short, looking slowly up at the table across the diner where she saw the familiar shine of deep red waves spilling over the matching stripes of a tight top.

There sat Skye Crandall, trying her best not to burst with laughter at Bailey’s obliviousness. Bailey turned and scowled at Casey for not correcting her sooner. She quickly tore open the sugar packets, emptying six into the dark drink before rushing it over to the table where her girlfriend sat.

“Hi…” Bailey said with a tired smile.

“Hey yourself. Sorry about the order, I just know how you get in to work and couldn’t resist messing with you a little.” Skye smirked.

“It’s fine. I should have recognised your voice.” Bailey laughed, setting the coffee in front of Skye. “I already poured your ridiculous amount of sugar. Why do you have so much anyway?”

“The coffee here is really bitter. My mom always buys this almond infused stuff so I don’t have as much at home. What time do you finish?”

“Maybe another hour or so. Why? Are you going to whisk me away?”

“Um, no? But I wondered if you wanted to walk me home. But only if you want to. No obligation or anything.” Skye stammered.

“I’d love to, as long as you don’t mind waiting. Where have you been?”

“Nowhere, just thought I’d come see you at work. Is that weird?”

“Wait. You came all this way to see me for a hot minute at work and you’re worried I’ll say no to walking you home?”

“Urgh, I knew this weird. I’ll just leave.”

“NO!… I mean, no, stay. I’ll finish up as quickly as I can, then I’m all yours.”

Skye laughed. The faint embarrassed blush creeping away from her cheeks. “All mine?”

“All yours.” Bailey said with a salute as she walked backwards to get back to work. As she turned, she collided with a large frame, knocking herself to the floor while the person she bumped into stood firm.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” She squeaked as she scrambled to her feet. Looking up she saw the person she had crashed into was Jordan Daniels (JD). The most popular girl in school, captain of the football team and victim of the leg breaking incident of Bailey’s first day at Berry. “Oh, JD. Sorry!”

“You said that already” She laughed, straightening her clothes. “Its fine, no harm done. Are you OK?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good. Just overworked.”

“Yeah…” JD said as she glanced around the diner. “Its usually pretty quiet in here. Serves me right for craving your dad’s chilli-cheese dogs on a Friday, huh.”

“Yep. It’s like…”

“BAILEY!” A stern voice interrupted. “Come on, there’s people waiting.” Came her dad’s voice from the kitchen.

“Sorry! Can you start a chilli-cheese dog please?”

“Oh, and a double strawberry shake and fries?” JD called out to Bailey’s dad, doing her best Bailey impression; laughing when he failed to notice, also buried under his workload. “We’ll be in the corner booth, Bailey.” She smiled, making her way over to the beautiful blonde sitting across the diner.

Bailey continued her work, clearing table after table and waving goodbye to customers as the diner slowly started to clear out. When just a few patrons remained, she caught her dad’s eye and gave him a pleading look, motioning towards Skye. He gave a stiff nod, and barely hid the sorrowful look on his face as he turned back to finish clearing down the kitchen.

“Time to go” Bailey said with a grin as she put out a hand for Skye to take. “Sorry you had to wait. I hate Friday shifts.”

“its OK, really. i wasn’t expecting you to just drop your work for me.”

“But, you know i definitely would if i could. I’d give anything for more time with you.” at that, Skye looked taken aback.

“You really mean that don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I do.” Bailey laced her fingers through Skye’s as they walked together. “And i always will.” The two of them walked closely through the town in time to see the lights of the stores and other restaurants shutting off. The night was quiet aside from the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing somewhere close by. They walked in silence for most of their journey. This was a usual thing. Skye wasn’t much of a talker at the best of times and Bailey was glad to enjoy the peace after the rush of the diner. Another usual thing that occurred was, the closer they got to Skye’s family home, the more she would start striking up things to talk about. Bailey could easily recognise what was happening. Skye would try to keep her talking for as long as possible to buy herself valuable minutes before re-entering the house and switching her attention from the one person who brought her serenity to those who gave her nothing but stress and anxiety.

Midway through Skye talking about a new movie they should go and see, (not even one she would usually be interested in, but that was irrelevant right now), Bailey cut her off.

“Hey, so tell me if this is too forward, but…” She blushed furiously, earning herself a half smirk from the darkened lips of the beautiful girl before her. “…Did you want me to ask my parents if you can stay over tonight?”

Now it was Skye’s turn to blush. Her face heated at the mild implication and her breath caught in her throat. “Um, yeah… Yeah, that sounds, nice.”

Without wasting another second, Bailey called her mom and had to focus to stop herself from bouncing on the spot with nervous energy.

“Hello?” Her Mom answered.

“Mom…..” Bailey dragged the word out, tryng to soften the blow of what she was about to ask. “Skye and i were wondering….”

“Are you about to ask me if she can stay over for the night?” Her voice had a slight teasing tone which sounded positive to Bailey.

“Yes. But!… I’ll keep my door open a crack and we’ll just be watching movies and its not like she never stayed over before, but this time there’s no one else to worry about. Also, i’ll walk Biscuit every day for the next month, even the days that Casey owes me and you definitely let Erin stay over super late for Casey and i am technically the older sibling…”

“Bailey!” her mom’s voice rang through so loud that the phone was almost unnecessary. “Thank you for being mature enough to ask me, and you do make a very convincing argument. But i’m afraid tonight just wont do sweetie”

“oh… OK. but, why not?” She asked, sounding as though the breath had been pulled from her body along with every ounce of her excitement.

“Your Dad and I need to talk to you and your brother. Don’t worry, the discussion is not off the table. We’ll talk about it very soon OK?”

“Yeah, OK Mom. i’ll head home now.” They said their “I love you”s and hung up. Bailey turned back to Skye who had a look of grim acceptance on her face, her eyes flicking repeatedly over to the lit-up window of the living room of her house. More-so, the shadows that kept passing it. “I’m sorry Skye”

“It’s OK. At least i always know i have you near, and if i need you, you’ll come rescue me, right?”

“Always” Bailey smiled

“Then there’s nothing for me to worry about, right?”

“Right!” Bailey pulled Skye by their still linked hands in to a tight embrace. it was never going to be long until they saw each other again, but the moments in between haunted Bailey. Knowing what the Crandalls were like was bad enough, but what truly haunted her were the things she was sure Skye didn’t tell her.

“Get home safe, OK?” Skye whispered against the tender skin of Bailey’s neck.

“You be safe too.” She said concernedly

“Duh, i live right there…” Skye smirked, pointing to the house a few feet from them. Bailey smiled back but was sure that Skye knew what she meant and was just covering up her own worry.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” She waved as she walked out of the yard and on to the streets. “I love you.”

At that they both stopped, still getting used to the three words passing beautifully between them.

“I love you too.” Skye smiled earnestly before opening the front door and disappearing inside.

The walk home wasn’t far from Skye’s house and though it wasn’t cold out, Bailey could feel the chill on her hand and up her arm, in all the places that Skye had been making contact on their walk together. Seeing her house come in to view, her mind began to wander. Thoughts of how different things could have been tonight, if Skye had been allowed to stay with her. First came exhilaration of the possibilities of having her first serious girlfriend to herself all night, and the things that they had talked about up until now, maybe, finally happening for real instead of just fantasies. Exhilaration gave way to worry when she thought of where the girl she loved was instead. In a pit of vipers that hiss as venomously as they bite, and her alone to face them.

Forcing herself to push the negative thoughts aside, promising silently that she would text Skye as soon as she was in her room to check in, she opened the door to her home. What she saw inside was curious. Both of her parents looking extremely guilty, and Casey just looking confused.

“Whats going on?” she asked, looking from one member of her family to another.

“Bailey, come and sit down. You need to hear this.” Her mom said calmly. Bailey made her way to the dining table where they were sat, trying to figure out the unfamiliar look on her twins face. “The thing is honey…”

Before she had a chance to finish her thought, Casey stood abruptly up, knocking his chair over with the force. “They’re making us move, Bailey! Regardless of our friends, our relationships, our school!”

She was sure she could still faintly hear Casey yelling, but her ears rushed and her head span. Fighting past the feeling of sawdust in her mouth, Bailey only managed two words before the tears pricking at her eyes threatened to spill.

“But…No….

To be continued.

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

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basia2002ib · 3 years

Text

Profile & summary of my CAS

Learning outcomes

All in all I can say I achieved all learning outcomes.

1. I identified own strengths and developed areas for growth. I got involved in activities that based on my prevailing skills but opened new ways to develop. Language can be deepened without limits; although I have got a certified C2 level in German I can still develop my skills and I continued to do so throughout my CAS.

2. I have undertaken a range of challenges, for instance passing a C2 exam in German seemed outlandish at first but then I got used to the idea and focused all my efforts to pursuing this goal. And I did it, even though it might seem abstract. I wanted to challenge myself to spice up my life a little bit and grow personally from the process. Now I can see a difference - my German language skills developed to such degree that when I am reading literature in German now I see an immense difference - now I can easily spot nuances and extract the deep meaning.

3. I initiated and planned CAS experiences thoroughly. I am a pragmatic person who tends to stick to the plan because it gives direction. CAS stages came naturally to me, I did not have to force them because they are inherent parts of planning process. My intellectual challenges undertaken in German - 2 competition and one language certificate required detailed planning for adequate preparation. Also my internship in the foundation required planning and time-management skills as I had to combine it with my various initiatives and rigorous IB programme. CAS stages were useful to plan my CAS project as well - I was in MUN staff, which means I coorganized WawMUN 2019.

4. Commitment and perseverance are prerequisite for success. I understand it therefore in every action I take these factors resonate. Otherwise I would accomplish my goals such as honours in German, I would not be able to play volleyball in the first-line up or I would not fulfill my demanding duties throughout my internship effectively. These are only examples of actions where I used my commitment and perseverance to succeed.

5. I saw benefits of working collaboratively during the WawMUN 2019 conference, which I organized as my CAS project but also in my internship in the foundation and my service as a student goverment vice president. In the student government we need to rely on one another and have each other’s back. We do share responsibilities to make sure nothing is neglected. We help each other and in case of emergency may replace one another either during a debate or while discussing issues with the head mistress. Throughout my internship I served as an assistant therefore I needed to adjust to the current responsibilities. I was instructed by more experienced employees all the way and assigned tasks. WawMUN conference is the biggest MUN in Poland therefore the organization process is complicated and required the division of tasks. If we did not trust each other and if we did not share responsibilities, the effect would not be so spectacular. The results showed the benefits of the team work from its best side.

6. I engaged with issues of gloabl significance throughout my CAS project which was co-organizing the MUN conference. Practising debating skills is crucial in today’s world and new generations of politicians have a chance to challenge their capabilities on the conference. The topics discussed in individual commitees touched upon issues of global significance. It is great to give my peers a chance to gain skills, delve into controversial subjects and defend their position. Some of them would probably pursue politics further in life; MUN conferences are truly inspirational in this respect.

7. One of the ethical issues I adressed during my activity as a student government vice president was the animal consumption. To relieve the environment, make my own step to reduce cruelty against animals, at least at the local level, I negotiated with the canteen supervisor to introduce vegan food. Unfortunately it was not possible to serve vegan dinners because of technical diffuculties but vegan sandwiches appeared in the canteen soon after our proposal. This is the way to satisfy needs of people on a plant-based diet but also a way to promote environmentally friendly food, with no associated cruelty.

Creativity

I love literature and foreign languages. Throughout my CAS, I combine this two effectively to follow both of my passions simultaneously. I read and write a lot in German and do far beyond what is required in my school. My goals in German are wide-ranging and not confined to my German B classes, but I challenged myslef to take part in competition and to read German literature. Once I have read “The Sorrows of Young Werther”, “Faust”, “The Visit”, “The Trial” in original and it commenced my relationship with German literature. I was captivated by it to such extent that I made a German classic “The Magic Mountain” the center of my Extended Essay. I also chose “The Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka to use in my oral exam. Thomas Mann and Franz Kafka are one of my favourite writers of all time and they allow me to trace different nuances of German language. Close analysis of these works of art should involve in my opinion delving into the original work. A valuable experience might be to compare it with the translation, which I did throughout my independent study.

My tangible achievements in German (the evidence for my skills) were: a C2 certificate in German, a disitinction in the translation contest “Juvenes Translatores” organized by the European Commision and a finalist title in the National German Olympiad. I reached my aforementioned goals in 2020. They involved CAS stages. 1. I investigated the area I wanted to deepen my skills in and specific aims I wanted to pursue and these were competitions in German. 2. I prepared my strategy, researched the most respectable competitions and exams I wanted to take part in, signed up for them and planned preparation which was necessary because of huge amounts of school work and limited free time. 3. I took specific action, exposed myself to the language days before the exam and throughout multiple months I was doing practice papers, reading and watching a lot. 4. I realized that by pursuing my passion in German and going beyond the curriculum I freed myself and could really delve into the language. The experience provided me with the sense of purpose - my life was not only concerned with my Diploma syllabus but I could get acquainted with literature and recognized the power of translation in terms of its strong influence on the reception of foreign texts.

From then onward I worked to maintain my German on the same high level. I should not take it for granted - I am not a native speaker. My accomplishements required huge amounts of work and also talent but might disappear if not cared for properly.

Activity

In the course of my CAS journey I have been active in many disciplines. Sport is one of my few ways to unwind and stop stressing about reality. I think that the limited possibilities to practice sport were one of the major obstacles during the pandemic. I was deprived of my only way to switch off and relax. Before the pandemic I used to swim and play volleyball in a school team every week plus I attended 3 Physical Education classes per week. Now my prefered activities are not possible to pursue because of lockdown which entailed school, sport halls and swimming pool closures. Moreover I am concerned with the virus. At the start of 2020 we managed to take the fouth place in district-wide volleyball competition. My team and I wanted to improve next year but the pandemic unexpectedly shattered my plans. I am grateful, however, for having been given a chance to represent my school in the first line-up. Moreover, I would attend volleyball practice every Saturday.

My PE classes give me a chance to play volleyball, football or do fitness. I enjoy almost every activity that is physically demanding. And I am also great in sport which boosts my motivation. Beyond school, I used to exert myself a lot in swimming and have difficulties to find enjoyment in it. However, I am a really good swimmer and it strengthens my determination, improves posture and health.

Throughout the pandemic, I have been practising sport independently, as it is an extremely important part of my life. However, in the first lockdown in the spring I used to overexert myself doing long and intensive workouts every day on an empty stomach to the point when I got health problems. I had to give it up and switched to another physical activity, less demanding but equally fun: walking. Never before have I taken walks so often as during the pandemic. Now, in the winter lockdown I also go for a walk sometimes.

Service

I began my CAS journey in 2019 with giving tutoring to a primary school student from a underprivileged background. Teaching subjects I am comfortable in (English and German) and his improved grades were reasons for my satisfaction. It required a lot of patience and perseverance as it was extremely difficult to teach him something because firstly he lacked motivation and secondly he had difficulties memorizing. This made it a huge challenge but turned out to be rewarding.

The second half of my first IB year (2020) I sacrificed for my internship (voluntary work) in a foundation. My scope of activity consisted in the cooperation with the Fundraising Director and the Spokeswoman of the foundation; I had duties related to fundraising and media such as: preparing summaries of the reports from humanitarian missions for fairs in Dubai, translating posts for English social media profiles, collecting data for media reports, translating official requests for the sponsorship, gathering contact details of potential sponsors i.e. big companies and Presidents of the biggest Polish cities, monitoring press mentions.

Throughout 2020 I have also been fulfilling duties of the student government vice president. My team was elected in February 2020 and until now (beginning of 2021) I hold this position. I resolve current problems with the head mistress, co-organize and participate in events e.g. open days, control social media, coordinate logistics. In March we attended an event for student governments across Warsaw. I also tried to organize the Physics conference with my 2 friends in my school but it was cancelled last-minute due to imposed school closure, one week before it was scheduled to take place. Everything had been arranged with lecturers and we had to cancel feeling miserable.

My wide range of CAS activities - other examples

Apart from my core activities which I described, I got involved in numerous other CAS experienced described on this blog. One of the most enriching ones was my participation in the process of creation of a book. I wrote my own essay to a book published this month by my former class teacher. I entitled my work: “School is people: about sparking authenticity and breaking patterns”. I also cooked a lot and published some of my recipes on the blog, wrote to my school newspaper, took part in environmental protests, wrote some poems, some diary entry, practiced Frech, including writing, took many beautiful photos on my trips abroad,...

I also co-organized WawMUN2019 conference as my CAS project.

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