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#unis supposed to be on break for the week but i had a breakdown about having to resubmit an assignment
thebibliosphere · 8 months
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Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.
Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)
I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.
Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot
Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.
The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)
If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."
I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.
It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.
(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)
A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."
It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.
I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)
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lycanthropegfs · 3 years
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why must i go to uni and get a job is it not enough that im hot?
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did anyone else feel like everything in uni was just.... too much to handle???? like do this internship! do this extra curricular program! and this one and this one and this one!!!! all to prove how involved you are!!! build all your soft skills and hard skills and professional brand/identity now!!! what are you doing????? dicking around like that????? you have no time to dick around!!!!! DO IT NOW??!!! WHERES YOUR LINKEDIN??? WHERE ARE YOUR AND WHAT ARE YOUR CAREER GOALS AND YOUR CAREER ROADMAP????!!! WHY DONT YOU CARE ABOUT ENTREPRENEURSHIP AND BEING INNOVATIVE???? OH BY THE WAY WHERE ARE YOUR ASSIGNMENTS ON TOP OF ALL THIS OTHER BS YOU’RE MEANT TO DO AND CARE ABOUT????!!!!!
like bro you’re causing me and probably everyone else to have mental breakdowns and feel like failures if they don’t do all these things all at once at uni. sorry i couldn’t manage an internship bc i only got my licence after i graduated???? sorry that i felt like those programs would take too much energy out of me???? sorry i forgot to turn in all those bs personal reflections you wanted me to have done for that extra curricular program that i signed up for where i never got hired for any of the positions i applied for anyway???? sorry i don’t give a fuck about my professional image and how to set up a personal brand i have no fucking energy left to give a flying fucking fuck about it. why the fuck does it even matter??? and fuck your entrepreneurship and innovation/hustle lifestyle bs spiels! why the fuck am i supposed to care about these????? when my mental health is so fucking depleted that i had a panic attack to the point of throwing up in the bathroom over making my linkedin account and being a “budding professional”???? why don’t my studies count as being involved on campus???? because they’re literally all i can fucking handle, just barely???? like how much fucking energy and time do you think i fucking have???? thanks for your fake ass mental health events that don’t really work either. just fuck why can’t i dick around like you’re really supposed to do at uni???? how the fuck else am i meant to relax if i’m always meant to be thinking about hustling and all that bullshit??? hello???? why will no one answer me???? fuck you.
like obvs i know people will react to this with comments such as: “that’s why and how you’re meant to learn time management at uni!!! look at all the cute study hacks on tiktok to help you ☺️!” and “that’s how you learn how to handle multiple workloads and deadlines and stuff!!” or “that’s how college/uni simulates the real world of employment!!! if you can’t deal with this at college/uni maybe you should’ve just dropped out and realised that you needed to toughen up princess!!!” or whatever else. but y’all. like it was chronic. i was always tired. always burnt out. i felt like i had no time to “find myself “ or whatever the trope or expectation of uni is supposed to be. instead i was just hammered, to what felt like death, with “be entrepreneurial and grind/hustle your way to the top every day!!!! only care about your professional image and brand! everyone has one! do 10 internships today to prove your eligibility/validity and motivation to employers so you get into a grad program!!! hustle hustle hustle! innovate innovate innovate! where are your start up ideas to fix the entire world in a day???? here’s all these never ending deadlines for 50+ extracurriculars that you HAVE to meet otherwise you won’t get the award for these programs officially to show employers!” etc etc etc. but it honestly felt like so, so, so much to do and i felt guilty because i felt like i had absolutely no interest in half of the ECs, let alone, even the “required marks” (because more than half of the ECs at my uni required at least a 75 or distinction average) to get into like mentor high school kids or idek do a business incubator program or whatever the bullshit EC program options were.
and that above is not even counting the reflections that you had to do to say “yeah i did this program and i felt it was good and i learnt A/B/C about myself through this program so it’s defs enhanced my employability skills” to even be considered to be taking part in the program. it was all too fucking much on too little time and i fucking hated it. and that’s besides the point that i was focussing solely on all the employability workshops for my “career” and got literally fucking nothing out of them. like why can’t uni just be a time to dick around and find yourself, instead of doing useless fucking employability circus bullshit and hearing time and time again about the “entrepreneurial mindset” and how to “never turn off your brain for innovation and the hustle to be ahead of everyone else???? hurry up and have a side hustle like tutoring to show just how much initiative you have!!!!!” like i just don’t understand how my advanced diploma, my undergrad arts degree, and my albeit short lived and failed attempt at my postgrad degree dont show ENOUGH initiative to employers. i fucking hate it.
and i also i understand that me complaining about this after the fact (and also while i was at uni from 2015-2018/doing postgrad in 2019) can be seen as “oh you were just too lazy to get yourself together and grow up! typical millennial/gen z! too selfish to grow up and be part of the big, bad adult world!” but y’all. there needs to be more down time for students and less of a push to be “entrepreneurial” and all that bullshit during uni/college; so you’re not pushed to your absolute limits at uni til you have a mental breakdown and drop out/defer for a semester or a year. and that’s besides the fact that even in my fucking 3 month breaks at the end of every year i was actually BUYING my texts or textbooks early and doing some of my readings (books) MONTHS ahead of time and MONTHS ahead of even knowing the revised sets of texts (because half the time i bought them so early that i hd no idea that the prof had taken like 4 diff books off some courses and replaced them w/ other books instead for example) so i really had no proper downtime anyway. like i was utterly run off of my feet and i was burnt the fuck out every fucking year of my undergrad degree and also my postgrad and also business college in 2014; which was at least 50+ page assignments every fucking week. like that should count as initiative to employers.... but apparently it fucking doesn’t??? im fucking sick of y’all what the actual fuck do you want????
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follow-your-fire · 3 years
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In your tender hands
Rating: Explicit/NC-17
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur (Merlin)
Written for bottom Arthur fest 2020
@bottom-arthur
“You need to get that stick out of your ass. And you need to relax.”
Arthur bristles a little at the choice of words but holds himself back. “It’s a massage, not a holiday. How is that gonna relieve my stress?”
Freya gives him an incredulous look. “You’re an idiot. Have you never had a massage before?” she asks, and it’s obvious that the question is mostly rhetorical. Which is probably the main reason why her eyes grow twice their size at the lack of response. “Oh my God, Arthur! Seriously?!”
“You did what?” Arthur nearly spits out his coffee, glaring daggers at his assistant.
Freya only rolls her eyes at the dramatic response. “You heard me. I booked you in for one hour when you take your break.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” He rubs at his eyes in frustration. “How the hell am I supposed to squeeze a massage in? My break is one hour too, plus the commute, plus I want to have lunch.”
“You’re acting like I don’t know your schedule off the top of my head. How long have I been working for you?”
“Two years,” he replies automatically, taking a moment to appreciate the fact.
All in all, Freya is a wonderful assistant. Arthur knows she’s the only reason why he hasn’t had a mental breakdown yet. She’s punctual and diligent. Stubborn as hell and as ruthless as they come. It’s kind of a double-edged sword though. While she gets the job done - actually goes beyond her line of duty - she also takes great pleasure in bossing Arthur around. And of course, Arthur being the push-over he is, lets her get away with it.
So yeah, Freya is a godsent who saves Arthur from losing it on a daily basis. But she’s also the spawn of the Devil who loves to discover all the ways to drive him nuts.
“And four months,” she corrects. “So cut me some slack, Princess.”
Ignoring the jab - because really, Freya, it’s getting old - he comes back to his previous point of concern. “Then you should know that my schedule is fully packed today.”
“Not anymore,” she announces smugly, walking over to her desk to pick up the iPad before she returns to Arthur’s office. “I moved Masa to tomorrow at 11:15 and Cutforth to Friday at 2 pm, which gives you,” she does a quick count, “two hours and fifteen minutes for your break.” She closes the iPad, smiling victoriously. “Now, stop fretting and make sure you leave on time. I booked you for 12.:15. The commute is about fifteen minutes and you should be there at least five minutes in advance.” She grabs a pen and a post-it-note from his desk, scribbling quickly. “There,” she says, tearing the note off. “This is the address.”
“The enchanted cave,” he reads in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Shut up, Arthur. Merlin is the best there is. He put me back together after I lost my parents. He’s usually fully booked weeks in advance. You’re lucky that he has a soft spot for me and let me squeeze you in.”
Arthur turns more solemn at the mention of Freya’s parent’s untimely passing. It doesn’t make him any less confused, though.
“Sounds more like a shrink to me than a masseur,” he thinks out loud.
“He might as well be,” she laughs, affection evident in her voice, which softens Arthur’s irritation somewhat. “You need to get that stick out of your ass. And you need to relax.”
Arthur bristles a little at the choice of words but holds himself back. “It’s a massage, not a holiday. How is that gonna relieve my stress?”
Freya gives him an incredulous look. “You’re an idiot. Have you never had a massage before?” she asks, and it’s obvious that the question is mostly rhetorical. Which is probably the main reason why her eyes grow twice their size at the lack of response. “Oh my God, Arthur! Seriously?!”
“I don’t have time for self-pampering,” he grumbles defensively.
“That’s exactly why you have to make the time!”
“That’s quite an oxymoron.”
“Shush.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Really, Arthur. You need to unwind.”
“I don’t-”
“Arthur,” she groans impatiently. “Go. Get. The. Massage. I’m gonna make sure you leave on time and I will check with Merlin that you actually turned up.”
“I think you’re confusing who’s the boss and who’s the subordinate here.”
“I think you’re full of shit and need to shut up and listen to someone smarter than you.” She turns on her heel and walks out of the office before Arthur has a chance to retort anything back. “Don’t be a prat, Arthur. For once in your life, do something nice for yourself.” And with that, she shuts the door behind her.
Arthur arrives at the place at 12:07, just in time to walk to the door as a woman walks out. He steps to the side, waiting for her to pass.
“Arthur?”
He snaps his head up from where he was blankly staring at the side-walk. “Oh. Hey, Mithian,” he greets when he recognizes one of his long-time friends.
“Don’t hey me and give me a proper hug hello,” she complains and doesn’t waste any time to rise on her tiptoes and wrap him in her arms. Arthur returns the hug with a smile on his face.
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been great but how have you been? I haven’t heard from you in ages,” she scolds him gently.
“Been busy.”
“Aren’t you always,” she scoffs, sympathetic. “Nice to see you’re finally doing something for yourself,” she says, getting a confused look. “You’re coming for a massage, right?”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I am. My assistant made me.” Oh, shit. That shouldn’t have come out.
Predictably, Mithian bursts into giggles. “Figures.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, Arthur. Someone needs to look out for you if you don’t,” she explains, her eyes soft and a wave of affection washes over Arthur as he remembers his uni years and their brief but lovely time together as a couple.
Now that he thinks of it, Freya reminds him of Mithian a lot. It occurs to him he’s attracted to a certain type of person. Not necessarily in a romantic sense but more in general.
His sister is like that too. All fiery and strong-willed, calling Arthur names on a good day, but when it comes to it, she’s a protective mother-hen.
So is his best friend. Lance is usually calm and collected but doesn’t hesitate to call Arthur on his bullshit, in the most loving way, though. So does Gwen. Those two really rub off on each other.
What is it with him attracting people into his life who spend most of their time scolding or mothering him? He needs to look into it later.
“I still don’t see how this is supposed to help.” He shrugs indifferently.
“Oh, you’ll see. Just wait for it.” And good grief, she winks at him. “I need to get going. Let me know how it went. You have my number, right?” Arthur nods. “Great. Also, it wouldn’t kill you to get in touch here and there, you know?”
Sighing guiltily, he humors her. “I will.”
“You’d better. Okay, gotta go. Enjoy yourself!” She blows him a kiss and takes off.
He very much doubts he’s gonna enjoy himself but if he’s lucky, maybe he’ll get to nap while the guy gets handsy with him. He could use an extra hour of sleep. God knows the five hours he’s come to consider his routine are not cutting it anymore.
He sighs in relief as he walks through the door to find a rather unassuming lobby. Given the name of the business, he expected the place to live up to its cringeiness but thankfully there are no tacky lights, no magical crystals scattered around, no candles in every corner, nor every surface. The only thing that can be considered a bit spiritual or whatever is the incense perched on the counter, right next to the business cards and leaflets. Thankfully, the scent is very subtle and doesn’t trigger a headache.
“Good afternoon! You must be Arthur,” says a voice to his left and Arthur nearly jumps out of his skin. He didn’t even notice anyone in the room with him.
As he looks over in the direction the voice came from, he finds a man, presumably his masseur - Mark, Matt? - standing in the door leading to what Arthur guesses is the massage room.
“Oh. Hey. Yeah, that would be me.” He turns to face the man, straightening his back. He must look out of place, clad in his suit, still wearing his tie.
The man approaches him with a smile. “I’m Merlin. It’s nice to meet you, finally. Freya talks about you quite a bit.”
Arthur reaches to grasp his hand when Merlin offers it, giving it a firm shake. “Don’t believe anything the little minx lets out of her mouth.” He attempts a joke, hoping his discomfort at being told his assistant talks about him is not too obvious.
He must succeed because Merlin is throwing his head back with a laugh. “She said you would say that,” he teases. “That’s alright. I like to make up my own mind.”
Arthur withdraws his hand and gives him a stiff smile. Outside of work, he has no idea how to make a decent conversation. Not upon the first meeting anyway.
Tilting his head inquiringly, Merlin asks, “You seem quite tense. Is everything alright?”
“It’s just... Look. I know you’re busy, Freya said so. And I appreciate you making time for me. But,” he huffs, knowing he’s gonna sound like a jerk no matter how he phrases it, “I don’t really care for massage much but Freya insisted. She can be fucking scary sometimes. Don’t tell her that though! And I just... I feel really out of place, okay?”
He expects to see Merlin’s expression sour, thinking Arthur is just a pompous douche. He wouldn’t even blame him. But, to his bewilderment, the man’s face is nothing but open, not a single trace of judgement.
“I won’t, I promise,” he says with humor. “If you don’t mind me asking - have you had a bad experience in the past?”
“More like no experience at all.”
For the first time, Merlin looks caught off guard. “You never had a massage?”
“No. I just never saw the point. And anyway, I don’t really have time to spare. The only reason I’m here is that Freya did some magic with my schedule and cleared it up enough to give me two hours off today.”
“Oh.” Merlin suddenly perks up. “In that case, I’d like to show you some of my magic, if you let me.”
Arthur’s brain short-circuits for a moment. Did he just hear what he thinks he did? Or is he so tired he started hallucinating? Plus, his dry spell of six months is probably not helping either.
“Um... I... magic?”
“Yeah, you know...” Merlin sweeps his hand over the lobby. “The enchanted cave? Seems fitting?”
“Oh.” Arthur chokes out. “Right. Right...”
“Oh God, I just realized how cheesy that sounds,” Merlin reflects with a hint of embarrassment. “Anyway, I should stop talking. You didn’t come here for a chat, after all.” He steps to the side, gesturing towards the massage room. “I’d just finished setting it up before you came in, so it’s all ready for you.”
Arthur gets the hint and with a deep breath, he makes his way to the room. Unlike the lobby, it’s bathed in a soft yellow light and.... yup, those are candles alright. No crystals, though.
Merlin is right on his heels. “I’ll let you undress in private, to your level of comfort.You can hang your clothes here, or you can just fold them and put them on this chair.” He gestures to the chair in the corner. “After that, lie down on the massage table, on your stomach, this way around. You see the sheet over there? That’s for you to cover yourself with. I’ll be back in a few minutes when you’re ready. Do you have any questions? Requests?”
So many questions. He goes with the most concerning one. “Yeah, um, when you say my level of comfort...” He cuts himself off. Thankfully, Merlin picks up on it.
“Whatever works for you, really. I can even massage you with your clothes on, although...” He gives Arthur a quick once-over, “I can’t imagine it would be comfortable for you.”
Yeah, no. Definitely not. And he has to go back to work after and he’s sure that showing up in a wrinkled suit would earn him a few judgmental looks.
“But really, it’s up to you. You can keep your clothes on, or just your underwear. If you’d prefer to be completely naked, that works too.”
Arthur hopes the dim lighting of the room conceals his blush. There’s no reason why a man of 32 years should blush at the thought of being naked.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Merlin echoes with an encouraging smile. “Be back soon.”
Arthur releases a relieved breath when Merlin closes the door behind him. This whole thing is even more awkward than he expected. Merlin seems like an alright bloke, if a bit odd but Arthur supposes that comes with the job. He seems nice though, with all the reassurances and effort he put into making sure Arthur is comfortable.
He wonders how many male clients Merlin gets. So far, he knows that Freya and Mithian are swept away by him. Although it’s hard to tell if it’s because of his supposedly outstanding massage skills or his looks.
He groans internally and maybe even a bit out loud. Nope, don’t even go there. No hitting on your masseur. Yeah, that wouldn’t end well. Not with Merlin about to spend the next hour gliding his large hands over Arthur’s whole body.
A shiver runs down his spine and in an attempt to push his thoughts away, he begins undressing, starting with his tie. He hangs his jacket and shirt on the hanger by the door and the rest he puts on the chair, just as Merlin instructed. In no time, he’s standing there clad only in his underwear, debating whether to leave that on or not.
To hell with it. Merlin must have seen it all already.
He ends up ridding himself of his briefs too, face going aflame as he adds them to the pile on the chair and rushes to climb onto the table, settling on his stomach and doing his best to arrange the sheet Merlin provided for him so it covers him as much as possible.
A minute or two pass with him fidgeting in his position. Whether it’s from discomfort or nerves, he doesn’t know, but then Merlin is knocking gently on the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Y-yeah,” he calls hoarsely, grateful Merlin can’t see his face.
The door clicks open and Merlin walks into the room, speaking from somewhere to Arthur’s left. “You probably already figured but one hour allows for a full body massage. Is that alright with you? Or do you want me to forgo any areas? Or spend some more time on a specific one?”
Logically, Arthur knows these are all valid questions but they do nothing to help him relax. More like the opposite.
“Um, no, that’s... you can do whatever you want.”
“Alright. Any contraindications I should know about?”
“I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.” Oh God, what did I just say? Stop trying to be funny, Arthur!
It draws a boisterous laugh from Merlin, easing some of Arthur’s tension. “Thanks for clarifying,” he says, catching his breath. “Any injuries?”
“No. I twisted my ankle playing football, but that was years ago.”
“Okay, good.” There is some rustling and thumping, then Merlin speaks again. “Do you care for any specific scent? I’ve got a variety of essential oils, energizing or calming. I have a special blend for stress relief if you’d be interested.”
Arthur winces a little at the fact he’s so easy to read. “Um... sure. But maybe not too much? I still need to go back to work after this.”
“Duly noted,” Merlin promises and busies himself with what Arthur assumes is mixing the oils or something.
Thankfully, he doesn’t take long, preventing Arthur from driving himself into a frenzy. He doesn’t know why he’s so flustered about all of this. So he never had a massage, so what? People do it all the time.
It’s just then that he notices that music is playing but it’s so soft it could almost escape his hearing. He focuses on listening in hopes of distracting himself.
“Okay, I’m all set. I’ll start with dry massage, working my way down from your shoulders. That alright with you?”
Yeah, he never had a massage but he’s pretty sure that asking for affirmation every two minutes isn’t how this usually works. It occurs to him that Merlin is doing this only for him.
He’s equal parts irritated and touched by it.
“Yeah.”
Gently, Merlin places his hands on his shoulders over the sheet. It’s just a simple touch, not even on his bare skin, but Arthur swears he can feel the heat of Merlin’s hands seeping into his own body and spreading throughout. He suppresses a sigh.
“I’ll start with medium pressure. Let me know if it’s too much or if you’d like me to go harder.”
Arthur hopes the whimper that makes it past his lips is not very audible. He clears his throat to cover it up.
Merlin doesn’t say anything. Instead, he presses his hands into the tense muscles of Arthur’s upper back, finding all the right spots from the get go.
A guttural groan escapes Arthur before he knows it.
“Too much?” Merlin asks, stilling his movement.
“N-no. No, it’s... it’s good. Just didn’t... expect it.”
“Good. Let me know if it changes.”
He stays on that area for a few minutes, lingering when he finds a sensitive spot, working out the kink. It’s a curious combination of pain-pleasure and Arthur is not sure if that’s what it’s supposed to feel like, but he knows it leaves him all pliant and floaty, so it’s probably alright.
Merlin makes his way down the spine, to his lower back, then goes back up and pays the same attention to his arms and hands.
He walks around the table and starts working on the legs.
Arthur releases a shuddering breath. He just had a leg-day in the gym yesterday and damn, can he feel it. Merlin’s touch is like a balm on his sore muscles and he exhales as pain gives way to relief.
It’s not long before Merlin comes back to the head of the table, hands grasping at the sheet.
“I’ll move onto the oil part now, yeah?”
“Okay.” At this point, Arthur will take anything. Why has he never done this before?
Merlin pulls the sheet down to his lower back, folding it over and leaving his back and arms exposed. The air of the room is not chilly by any means but Arthur shudders all the same.
There is a slick sound as Merlin covers his hands with oil before bringing them to Arthur’s shoulders again, spreading the oil over the whole expanse of his back and arms. Although the pressure is not as hard now, with the oil easing the way, Arthur finds this part even more intense, Merlin’s touch nearly searing without any barrier between them.
He glides his palms, fingers and forearms over Arthur’s back with long, confident strokes, then switches to short, firmer ones, alternating between the two.
Arthur’s vaguely aware he’s all but melting on the spot, feeling almost detached from his body despite every nerve ending being on fire.
At some point as Merlin rubs at the tense muscles of his neck, he slides his hands into Arthur’s hair, at the base of his skull, rubbing in circular motions.
This time, it’s definitely a whimper that Arthur lets out, blushing furiously.
“S-sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Arthur,” Merlin instructs in a gentle voice. “You carry a lot of tension here. Plenty of people do but you even more so. Just let go.”
Against his better judgment, he does just that. As Merlin’s hands continue their ministrations, he lets out a series of little huffs and whimpers, unable to stop himself when he starts.
“That’s it. Just let go,” Merlin repeats and puts more force behind his touch, making Arthur’s noises grow in volume.
He both welcomes and mourns the loss when Merlin’s hands leave him in order to grab a hot towel and wipe the remaining layer of oil from his back before covering him with the sheet again.
“I’ll move to your legs now, okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
He’s surprised when Merlin touches his shoulder, prompting him to lift his head. “Since I’m finished with your back, you can have a pillow if you want. It might be more comfortable for you.”
Arthur doesn’t object in the slightest, taking the pillow Merlin’s holding and resting his right cheek on it, sliding his hands underneath. Yeah, much more comfortable.
“Thanks,” he mumbles almost sleepily and hears Merlin chuckle.
“You’re very welcome.”
Then, Merlin is exposing his left leg, tucking the sheet in the space between his legs and over his hip, revealing his left butt-cheek in the process. He doesn’t even have the strength to feel embarrassed.
Merlin doesn’t waste time before coating his hands with oil again and bringing them to Arthur’s leg. He starts with his feet, then moves to his calf, then thigh until he’s worked all the way to his bum.
Arthur nearly jack-knives from the table as Merlin’s thumb presses into the middle of his cheek.
“Sorry! Was it too much?”
Arthur presses his face into the pillow to hide his flush. “I... ugh... I just... didn’t expect... that.”
“Oh,” Merlin quips. “I can skip that part.”
Jesus, Arthur, stop being such a sissy. It’s just a massage. A professional massage.
“It’s fine. You just... surprised me.”
“Sorry about that,” he says genuinely and resumes the massage, albeit more tentative than before.
Now that the initial shock is over, Arthur begins to appreciate the attention Merlin’s paying to that particular part of his body. He never knew how tense he was in... well.... there.
He whines a little when Merlin presses his thumb into a tender spot.
“Shit. I would’ve thought that going to the gym four times a week would make up for sitting on my ass several hours every day,” he grumbles more to himself.
“I think you’re doing an excellent job at the gym,” Merlin replies with humor, then promptly freezes, Arthur following suit. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. That was... very inappropriate. I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it. Not that you don’t have a nice ass. I mean... oh shit,” he starts panicking, removing his hands from Arthur’s body. Funny enough, witnessing Merlin freak out makes Arthur strangely relaxed.
He responds with a huff. “Take it easy, Merlin. I appreciate the compliment. You can continue.”
“Are you... are you sure?” Merlin asks tentatively.
“I’m sure. You like my ass, so what? I’ve been working hard on it.”
Merlin laughs, a bit nervous, a bit relieved, and eventually listens, resuming the massage on the other leg, starting from his foot again.
Maybe the whole exchange should make everything weird but strangely enough, Arthur is even more relaxed than he was before. The realization that Merlin is only human, with no filter it seems, making it easier.
Merlin hesitates when he works his way up to Arthur’s bum again, but with no complaint in sight, he repeats what he did on the other leg.
When he’s done, he steps to the side of the table and lifts the sheet off of Arthur, holding it in front of himself like a screen. “Can you turn over, Arthur?”
Arthur gathers all his strength to prop on his forearms with the intention to do just that, but stills momentarily.
“Arthur?” Merlin questions when nothing happens.
“I... um....” Well, shit. How did I not notice I was sporting a semi?!
“What’s wrong?”
“I... might have a... situation,” he admits, face burning.
At first, Merlin is silent, then the realization dawns on him. “Oh. I see. That’s fine, Arthur. It happens more often than not,” he reassures but it doesn’t help much.
“But I... God, this is embarrassing,” he hides his face in his hands.
“I understand why you would think that, but I promise it’s alright. It doesn’t mean anything; it’s just a natural reaction.”
It takes some more prompting but eventually, Arthur flips onto his back and closes his eyes as Merlin drapes the sheet over him again, the outline of his half-hard dick painfully visible.
“I can fetch you a blanket if it makes you feel better?”
“If you don’t mind,” he squeezes out without opening his eyes, only doing so when Merlin hands him the blanket and he rushes to throw it over his lower half. “Thanks. Sorry about that.”
He dares a look at Merlin and finds him smiling in empathy. “Not at all. It’s no big deal, Arthur.” He reaches for a bottle of oil and puts his hands on Arthur’s arm. “Just lie back and relax.”
Arthur does his best to do just that while Merlin massages his arm and hand before switching to the other one.
By the time he’s finished with them, Arthur’s calmed down considerably and, thank fuck for that, the embarrassment was enough to have killed any interest his dick might have taken in the situation.
He expects Merlin to announce the massage has come to an end when he finishes wiping his arms with a hot towel, but to his surprise, Merlin slides a chair behind him, sitting himself down, hands coming to cradle Arthur’s head. Arthur lifts it automatically, assuming that’s what Merlin wants him to do.
“You just relax, Arthur. Don’t help me by holding your head up. I’ll manage.”
It’s not an easy thing to trust someone not to drop your head but Merlin is nothing but cautious as he maneuvers it around to get to the spot he’s aiming for and Arthur finds himself giving up control completely. Head massage doesn’t sound like anything special but to his bewilderment, it’s the most relaxing thing ever. At some point, he even starts dozing off. At least he thinks he does because he nearly jumps out of his skin when Merlin says his name.
“Arthur?”
“Yeah?” he snaps his eyes open, looking up at Merlin upside down, seeing the other man smiling fondly.
“Did you fall asleep?”
“N-no?” he stutters, cheeks growing pink.
“Of course,” Merlin says in the way that screams he doesn’t believe him but humors him anyway. “Well, I’m all done here. How are you feeling?”
“Weirdly disconnected from my body,” he says with a grunt, attempting to sit up. “Shit, I don’t know how I’ll get any work done for the rest of the day.”
“What time do you finish?”
“Officially? Around five. Actually? Seven. Sometimes eight.”
“God, that’s disgusting.”
“You have no idea.”
“Thankfully, I don’t,” he agrees. “I’ll let you get dressed. Meet me in the lobby when you’re ready, okay?”
“Okay.”
It’s with sloth speed that Arthur puts his clothes on. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of Merlin’s busy schedule and can only hope he’s not stalling.
He squints at the bright light of the lobby when he emerges from the massage room. When his eyes adjust, he spots Merlin walking towards him with a glass of water. “Here, have some water.”
“Thanks,” he accepts without objection, just because he’s barely standing. He doesn’t know what Merlin’s done to him but it feels like his body doesn’t even belong to him. He has no idea how he’s gonna drive back to work without driving himself into a street-lamp.
“How much do I owe you?” he asks when he’s chugged down the whole glass, reaching for his wallet.
“Oh. It’s already paid for. Freya used your credit card when she booked you in.”
Arthur blinks at him blankly. How dare Freya pay for something that Arthur hadn’t even agreed to yet?!
Yeah, as if she would ever take a no for an answer.
He sighs, pulling out a twenty pound bill regardless. “She would, wouldn’t she. That little shit,” he grumbles under his breath. “At least let me tip you,” he holds a hand with the bill to Merlin.
“Actually, she included the tip, too,” he says sheepishly, giving Arthur a crooked smile.
“Bloody hell,” he huffs indignantly, then takes a deep breath. “Whatever. Just take it.”
“But-”
“Merlin. Take. It. You’ve done a great job,” he insists, holding eye contact.
Merlin still hesitates at first but resigns eventually. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Okay. Thank you, Arthur,” he smiles appreciatively as he accepts the money. He bites his lip, seemingly in thought, then turns around and plucks one business card from the pile on the desk, grabs a pen and writes something down. “Here,” he turns to Arthur, holding the card to him. “If you ever feel like coming back for another massage.”
Arthur takes the card, noticing that Merlin wrote another number on in besides the one already printed. “Thanks but... I’m sure Freya has the number.”
“This is my personal number,” Merlin explains and Arthur’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I’m not always able to pick up the phone here but if you text me on my personal number, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Oh. Okay. Thanks, that’s very... um... I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” Merlin mumbles, fidgety. Arthur finds it both amusing and confusing.
“Well, I should get going. Thank you again.”
“Oh! Of course, don’t let me keep you,” he rushes to say. “See you next time?”
“Yeah.” As non-committal as he sounds, he finds he means it. Something’s telling him he’ll be back sooner or later. Probably sooner.
“Take care of yourself, Arthur,” Merlin calls as Arthur opens the door on his way out and his heart skips a beat at the genuine tone.
He turns around to give the man one last smile before the door shuts behind him.
“So? How was it?” Freya advances on him as soon as he comes back. He slumps into his chair, sitting upright when Freya places a box of takeout in front of him.
“Fine.” Freya is not impressed. “It was good, okay?” he adds, opening the box to reveal his all-time favorite pad thai and all but inhales the food.
“Told you,” she says smugly, ignoring Arthur’s glare. “Gonna go again?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, that’s convincing.”
“Shut it, Freya,” he shoots back. “I got his business card. I’ll give him a call when I feel like it.”
“I can do that for you.”
“Nope, thanks. I’m sure I can manage to make a phone-call myself, even without an intervention of my obnoxious assistant.”
Freya throws a balled-up napkin at him. “Ungrateful prat,” she retorts and stomps out of his office.
“I heard that!”
Arthur lasts exactly four days and two hours before giving in and taking Merlin up on his offer to text him on his personal number to book another appointment. He didn’t expect to snap so quickly but after waking up the next day after his massage, refreshed and chirpy, feeling as though he had a brand new body - who could blame him, really.
Hey, Merlin. It’s Arthur. I was wondering if you had a slot available this week?
There, simple and straight to the point. Freya said that Merlin is usually booked out weeks in advance but asking never hurt anybody.
His phone chimes with an incoming message about ten minutes later.
Hi, Arthur! Nice to hear from you again. :)
Sure thing. Did you have a specific day and time in mind?
Nope, he didn’t. He was willing to adjust his schedule just to squeeze in an hour.
Not really. Freya implied that you’re usually fully booked so I thought I’d leave that up to you.
She’s over-exaggerating ;) I can make time.
Oh, God, he’s one of those people. Emojis and shit.
Oh. Okay, then. Thursday work for you?
It does :) What time?
This is... unexpectedly easy. He should have never let Freya bullshit him. But that’s what she does. She’d do anything to get her way and make Arthur do whatever she wants. No Christmas bonus for her this year!
Is 6pm too late?
As a matter of fact, he never finishes before six. Hell, he never finishes before seven. But maybe his friends are right. Maybe he should make time for himself once in a while. It won’t kill him, will it?
Thought you didn’t finish work until ungodly hour :D
He’s already typing out a reply but Merlin beats him to it with another message.
And it’s not too late. I’ll write you down for 6, then ;)
Oh. That easy, huh?
Thank you, he sends first, then rushes to add an explanation. I can make an exception once in a while. He hesitates with the next part but decides to throw caution to the wind, just this time. It’s worth it.
He regrets it as soon as he hits send, but doesn’t get a chance to wallow in it for too long before Merlin���s reply comes.
Oh no, now there are expectations I need to live up to :O
Jk. Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself last time. See you Thursday ;)
Red to the tips of his ears, he types out a quick see you before pocketing his phone, busying himself with the remaining paperwork in hopes it will calm down his racing heart.
He’s not that lucky.
On Thursday, he wraps up his work just before 5:30, hoping it’s enough time to get through the traffic.
It is, as it turns out.Though he’s cutting it close, parking the car just two minutes before six.
“Sorry, I underestimated the traffic,” he rushes to apologize when he bursts through the door, finding Merlin lounging peacefully on the sofa, swiping through his phone.
As soon as Merlin lifts his eyes to meet Arthur’s, his whole face lights up with a wide smile. “Hey! No problem at all. You’re my last massage for today, so no rush.”
“Thanks but it’s already late. I don’t wanna keep you any more than needed.”
Merlin dismisses his worries with a wave of a hand. “Nonsense. It’s no trouble. Come on in,” he smiles encouragingly and Arthur dutifully follows him to the massage room. It looks exactly the same but Arthur feels much more at ease than last time, now that he’s familiar with it.
“Thank you again for finding time for me,” he says gratefully because it feels like he hasn’t said it enough.
It earns him an indulgent smile. “I was happy to do it. It’s no trouble, really,” Merlin repeats and Arthur takes the hint.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoes. “You know the drill by now, right? I’ll be back in a few.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Merlin nods his head in acknowledgement, leaving the room to give Arthur privacy.
Similarly to last time, Arthur hangs his suit and shirt and folds the rest of his clothes, laying face down on the table and covering himself with the sheet. As promised, Merlin knocks on the door a couple minutes later, entering when Arthur gives him a go-ahead.
“Any requests today?”
He suppresses the urge to crack an inappropriate joke. “Not really. Same as last time is good.”
“Alright,” says Merlin and he starts the massage exactly in the same way he did last time, humming appreciatively when he rubs at Arthur’s shoulders.
“You’re not nearly as tense as before. Both literally and figuratively,” he points out.
“Yeah,” Arthur agrees. “I felt really good when I woke up the next day. All loose and relaxed.” He clears his throat, cringing at his wording. “And I was just nervous because it was my first time, I guess. Now that I know the ropes, it’s easy to just...”
“Let go?” Merlin finishes for him and... is that smugness he hears?
“Y-yeah,” he replies, feeling silly all of sudden.
“I’m glad to hear that. Glad I could help.”
“Me too.”
They remain silent after that. While Merlin doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary - or rather, anything that would be different to last time - Arthur can sense a shift in the energy in the room. In Merlin. In himself. He might be imagining it but he would swear that Merlin’s hands... linger - which is kinda a stupid thing to say, this is a massage after all, touch is a crucial component here - but... yeah... that’s what it feels like.
Every touch of Merlin’s hands on his body feels amplified, Arthur nearly vibrating in response to... he has no idea what he’s responding to. He only knows it feels good.
It feels right.
When Merlin asks him to flip onto his back, he’s relieved to find that the humiliating experience from last time is not gonna be repeated - no awkward boners today, ladies and gentlemen!
He hisses through his teeth when Merlin presses into a tender spot of his arm.
Merlin’s immediately apologetic. “Sorry! I didn’t expect you to be so sensitive here.”
“ ‘s fine,” he mumbles drowsily. “I might have overdone it in the gym today.”
“When did you have time to go to the gym?”
“Before work. Around five.”
“God, that’s disgusting. Why would you do that?” Merlin sounds truly appalled which only amuses Arthur.
“I’m too tired by the time I finish work. At least this way, I get a bit of a boost in the morning.”
“I’m still not convinced.”
“Shut up, Merlin. Without the gym, I wouldn’t have the ass you like so much.”
He snaps his eyes open in panic and finds Merlin gaping at him in shock.
“I... I did not... ugh...”
“Oh my God, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say that, I swear! I’m just really tired, basically falling asleep. I just talk shit when I’m like that.”
Forget the boner. This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him.
Funnily enough, his stammering helps Merlin fight through his shock and now he’s more entertained than anything.
“No filter, huh? I can relate,” he brushes the whole thing off and resumes massaging over Arthur’s arm, softer this time and Arthur would moan appreciatively at the soothing effect the touch has on his sore muscles but given his previous faux pas, he doesn’t think it’s the right time for it.
Merlin works his way down to his hand, paying special attention to the spot at the base of his thumb that is always so stiff after spending hours and hours every day typing on his laptop.
A weird thing happens after that. Same as the last time, Merlin slides his fingers in between Arthur’s, squeezing and pulling until he hears a cracking sound of the joints. That is all well and good but instead of pulling away, he remains with their fingers interlaced. It almost feels... almost feels like they are holding hands.
Arthur opens his eyes again to give Merlin a questioning look but Merlin is staring at their joined hands instead, an expression on his face that Arthur can’t really decipher but if he were to guess, he would almost call it... longing.
Merlin must realize what he’s doing because his eyes widen as they lock onto Arthur’s, panicked and so blue.
“Sorry!” he blurts out, pulling away and ducking his head as he makes his way to the other side to repeat the process on the other hand.
Arthur feels the air around them grow thicker. He doesn’t know what happened exactly and doesn’t dare ask.
He can tell Merlin keeps himself in check as he finishes with his other side and it’s not long before he moves to the head massage.
After all of that, it’s really hard for Arthur to relax but he does his best as to not make things even more awkward.
He’s equally relieved and disappointed when Merlin’s hands disappear, signaling that their session has come to an end.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re ready, okay?” Merlin asks stiffly.
“Okay,” Arthur agrees, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding when Merlin shuts the door behind him.
Since he knows he doesn’t have to rush because he was the last client today, he takes his time putting the clothes on and mentally prepares himself for facing Merlin in a few moments.
It takes all of his courage to maintain eye contact when he leaves the room, coming to the desk where Merlin’s already waiting for him with a glass of water.
“Thanks.” He doesn’t finish the whole glass, his stomach too unsettled for that and pulls out his wallet.
“I know for sure Freya didn’t pay in advance since I booked the massage myself this time,” he comments in what he hopes is a light-hearted tone. It works because it draws a chuckle from Merlin.
“You’re not wrong,” he agrees, going quiet again but shaking himself off at Arthur’s expectant look. “Oh! Sorry, it’s seventy pounds.”
Arthur raises an eyebrow in surprise. While he wouldn’t know anything about the regular massage price, it doesn’t seem too much considering how popular Merlin is. According to Freya, anyway.
He plucks out two fifty dollar bills and hands them over. Merlin blinks at him in confusion. “Um... that’s a bit--”
“Just take it. You deserve it. You’re good and you went far and beyond to make time for me even at the late hour.”
“It was no tr--”
“Merlin, will you shut up and take the bloody money?” he nearly whines at the man’s stubbornness, relieved when Merlin eventually gives in.
“You’re so bossy,” he shakes his head almost fondly.
“Goes with the territory. I’m the CEO after all.”
“In that case, that was a lousy tip for a CEO.”
“I beg your pardon?!”
And just like that, the tension has disappeared and they are back to their easy banter.
“I’m just teasing,” Merlin reassures unnecessarily, a dopey smile still in place. “Let me know if you wanna do this again, yeah?” He sounds unsure, although why, Arthur has no idea.
“Actually, if you really don’t mind, could we make it a weekly thing?”
“Oh,” Merlin says with surprise. “Sure. Thursday again? Or do you want a different day?”
“Thursday is good. Six o’clock?”
“Yeah. Yeah, works for me.”
“Brilliant,” Arthur smiles back. “I’ll see you next week, then?”
“Looking forward to it.” The way Merlin’s face softens further shouldn’t make Arthur’s stomach do flip-flops but for some reason, it does.
Oh, no. Abort, abort!
“Yeah. See you,” he mumbles and all but runs to his car.
Arthur lets out a girly squeal when Freya slams a pile of papers onto his desk.
“Why haven’t you gone see Merlin again?” she asks accusingly and... wait, what?
“Excuse me?”
“I thought you liked the massage. That you felt better after. I thought you’d go back.”
Well, not that it’s any of her business but...
“I’ve been like four more times since,” he argues back, watching Freya’s furious expression turn confused.
“No, you haven’t. There’s no way you could have altered your schedule yourself without me noticing.”
Arthur rolls his eyes, annoyed that he, the fucking CEO, has to explain himself to his assistant. “Yes, I have. I’m going today, actually. I go every Thursday after work. Well, I finish early, so I can be there at six. Which, by the way, you could have done the first time around. I truly don’t understand why you’d rather mess with my appointments to get me a rushed massage on my break instead of simply booking one in the evening.”
If anything, Freya grows even more confused. “You’re lying.”
Arthur positively bristles at the insult. “I’m not!”
“You so are. Merlin doesn’t work evenings. And he doesn’t work weekends. His last bookings are for 4 o’clock. Hence why I had to book you for your break.”
He’s already preparing a come-back to defend himself when the words finally sink in. He snaps his mouth shut.
Then why... why did Merlin agree to Thursday evenings? That doesn’t make any sense.
“Are you sure you’ve got that right?” he asks instead because... because if it’s true, it puts many things into perspective.
Like the fact that Merlin literally beams every time Arthur shows up.
Or the fact that his touch seems to linger, seems to grow more and more intense with every visit. Like he’s enjoying touching Arthur.
At first, Arthur thought it was just his imagination, but upon checking the time when he got to his car only to find Merlin had extended the massage by at least ten or fifteen minutes, it was obvious that he wasn’t making it up.
Most importantly, it would explain why Merlin started texting Arthur randomly, usually on Fridays to ask how he was doing, if he felt alright and so on.
It would even explain why he would sometimes text on the weekend too.
It did not explain why Arthur indulged in the texting.
It did not explain why it was the highlight of his days.
“I’m sure,” Freya replies, confirming his growing suspicion. When he doesn’t react, she turns concerned. “Arthur?”
“Yeah?”
She hesitates. “You’re not lying.” A statement, not a question, but he still answers it.
“No.”
“Oh,” she breathes, out of words.
“Do you...” He clears his throat. “Do you know why Merlin would make an exception for me?”
The glint in her eyes suggests that she might have a good idea about that, but doesn’t say so. “I think you should ask Merlin that.”
Yeah. Yeah, he should.
He will.
“You seem very... serious today. What happened?”
“Why did you agree on 6pm Thursdays?” he asks directly before he loses the nerve.
“Huh?” Merlin blinks at him.
“Freya told me you don’t do evenings. Why would you let me impose on your time?” God, he feels so stupid.
“Oh,” says Merlin. “Well, first of all, you’re not imposing.”
“But-”
“Second, working for yourself has a lot of perks. Like that I can do with my time as I see fit.”
“So you decided to spend it on me.”
“More like spend it with you.”
Spend it with-- oh. Oh.
“What? Why?”
Unexpectedly, Merlin snorts. “You don’t know?”
No. No he doesn’t.
“No.”
“Oh, my, you’re a right dumbass.”
“Excuse you?!”
“Arthur,” Merlin says, apparently running out of patience. “I simply like you, okay? At first, I agreed because you seemed like you could use some relaxation. Quite a bit of it, really.”
Arthur bites his lip, hesitating with the next question. “And then?”
Merlin sighs, shoulders sagging almost in defeat. “And then I just liked seeing you.”
Arthur takes in a shaky breath, both startled and excited by the admission. “Why didn’t you just ask me out, then?”
Merlin laughs, but there’s very little humor in it. “That’s hardly professional, Arthur.”
“That’s what worried you?”
“Of course it did! It does! Jesus, Arthur, you have no idea,” he shakes his head, “no idea how much I have to hold myself back when I have my hands all over you.”
Arthur swallows audibly, noticing for the first time how dry his throat has gotten. Well, here goes nothing.
”What if... what if I don’t want you to hold back?”
Merlin stares at him with his mouth hanging open, his gaze roaming over Arthur’s face in search of something. Probably a confirmation.
“Arthur, that’s not--”
“It’s 6:02,” he blurts out.
“What?”
“It’s two minutes past six. You should have started with the massage by now.”
Initially, Merlin doesn’t respond, looking as though Arthur’s talking in a different language. When Arthur holds his eyes, hoping to prove his point, he resigns on any further arguments.
“Come on in then,” he instructs tiredly and Arthur follows him to the room. He’s shedding his jacket even before they get there. He hangs it and starts taking off his tie just as Merlin turns around to face him.
“Okay, I’ll let you--” He cuts himself off when Arthur pulls the tie over his head, throwing it on the chair and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“Don’t bother,” he says, too pleased with himself when Merlin stays rooted to the spot, openly staring.
“Uh...” Is all he manages when Arthur gets rid of the shirt, exposing his chest (which - it’s not like Merlin’s never seen it before anyway) and begins working his belt and trousers open. Soon, he’s pulling them down together with his briefs, stepping out of his shoes in the meantime.
As he straightens up, completely naked, he takes a few seconds to appreciate the way Merlin looks at him, his jaw practically hitting the floor. Lips twisting into a smug smile, he turns to the table to climb on it, settling on his stomach as he does every time, except now he doesn’t bother covering himself up with a sheet.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he calls with barely concealed amusement when Merlin doesn’t move an inch.
“Uh... yeah. Yeah, let me just...” he stutters, reaching for the sheet.
“Leave it.”
“W-what?”
“No point.”
“But--”
“Merlin,” Arthur says darkly, “leave it.”
Thank fuck, Merlin actually listens and abandons the sheet in favor of grabbing a bottle of oil, pouring some in his hands with trembling fingers.
“Arthur...” he tries one more time, hesitant.
“Merlin,” Arthur returns. “Shut up.”
He hears Merlin exhale shakily and then, the familiar sensation of oil-slicked hands takes over all of his senses. He sighs in relief when the touch causes his body to go completely lax as it always does.
Merlin’s hands are unusually tentative, like he’s still not sure he’s got Arthur’s permission to touch him - like this - after what he admitted to him. It’s for that reason that Arthur starts making deliberate noises of pleasure, humming softly, or outright groaning and moaning when Merlin arrives to a particularly sensitive spot.
Above him, Merlin begins making noises of his own, but he sounds more pained than anything. Out of curiosity, Arthur turns his head to the side to peer at Merlin, just to be able to see what expression is on his face right now.
He doesn’t get that far because all of his attention is stolen by the very visible, very prominent bulge pressing against the front of Merlin’s trousers.
“Shit,” he utters before he can stop himself, feeling his dick twitch helplessly where it’s almost squashed between his body and the table.
Immediately, Merlin freezes on the spot, his breath hitching.
“I... Arthur...”
Arthur lets out another moan at witnessing Merlin’s obvious desire for him and returns his head to the previous position.
“You can do my legs now,” he says suggestively, but it sounds more like an order. For a moment, nothing happens. Merlin doesn’t withdraw his hands but he doesn’t move either. Arthur is about to impatiently prompt him to action but in the end, Merlin goes willingly, moving around the table until he’s standing at Arthur’s feet.
He covers his left leg with oil and proceeds to massage it from the foot up, almost as if nothing unusual is happening.
It’s not until he makes his way past the knee, to the hamstrings and inner thigh, that Arthur feels him falter, the pressure letting off and in a desperate attempt to urge Merlin on, he spreads his legs further apart.
Behind him, Merlin makes a choked off sound, his grip on Arthur’s thigh tightening.
“A-Arthur,” he says like a prayer and Arthur feels himself grow harder the lower Merlin’s voice drops.
“Go on,” he orders and this time, Merlin recovers faster, sparing barely a few seconds before he starts rubbing his thigh in circular motion, slowly working his way up, up, all the way to his ass - his very exposed ass.
“Arthur,” Merlin whispers, barely audible, but Arthur hears him all the same. He knows what he’s asking and in lieu of an answer, he digs his knees into the table to push his hip up and back, groaning when the movement provides friction to his now fully erect cock.
“Do it,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please.”
Merlin makes an indescribable sound and then his slick fingers are dipping tentatively between his cheeks, brushing against his entrance.
Arthur feels his pulse quicken, heat spreading throughout his whole body at the single touch.
“Gods, Arthur, the sounds you make...” Merlin praises, rubbing at his opening in tiny circles.
“Merlin,” he returns, attempting to spread his legs further apart. Merlin all but growls at the display and then he’s bending over to pepper kisses over Arthur’s naked shoulders, even as his fingers press against him more insistently.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Arthur,” he mumbles into his skin and Arthur trembles at the soft-spoken words.
“Fuck me,” he moans, hitching his hips up. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Shit, Arthur, you can’t just.... can’t just say stuff like that.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just hurry up and get on with it,” he tries to sound irritated but it falls flat when a whine is torn out of his throat as Merlin enters him with one finger.
“Shit. Shit...”
“Payback,” Merlin laughs, kissing just behind his ear.
“Merlin, I swear to God...”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” he retorts with fondness and starts pumping the finger in and out.
Satisfied when Merlin actually listens, Arthur is able to relax again, offering himself to Merlin’s skilled hands.
He is nothing but gentle as he works Arthur open, adding more oil before a second finger joins the first, then a third one.
Under him, Arthur’s rolling his hips against the table, seeking as much friction as he can because Merlin’s taking too bloody long, checking on him every two fucking minutes. Just as he’s about to call him out, the fingers brush against his prostate, successfully stealing all the words out of his mouth, together with his breath.
“Fuck,” he grips at the edge of the table, struggling to breathe.
Merlin chuckles at his reaction. “You like that?” he asks smugly, totally unhelpful and unnecessary and hits that spot again.
“Would l-like it better if you f-finally got your dick in m-me,” he trips over his tongue, panting.
“Impatient,” Merlin clicks his tongue but before Arthur can tell him where he can stick it (pun intended), Merlin’s fingers leave him.
His breath hitches at the sudden emptiness and in hopes of speeding up the process, he gathers his strength to hitch himself up until he’s on all fours. He expects Merlin to climb up behind him but instead, there’s a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to twist to the side.
“Not like that,” Merlin explains, nudging him until he’s turned over completely, facing him. “I want to see you.”
Arthur wants to crack a joke, call Merlin sappy and whatnot, but he can only blush.
“Oh.”
“Can you sit on the edge?” Merlin instructs, helping him to get into position. He manages just fine by himself, sitting on the side of the table with his legs hanging off. He watches, mesmerized, as Merlin rids himself of his T-shirt and trousers in under ten seconds, feeling accomplished at seeing him so impatient himself even though he chastised Arthur for it only minutes ago.
“Eager, are we?” he teases, hearing the blood rush in his ears. Merlin gives him a dark look, clearly disapproving of his tone, and takes the final step until he’s standing between his open thighs, grabbing him by the hips and pulling forward.
The movement is so sudden that it sends Arthur flat onto his back, hips hanging off the table. Merlin nudges him to wrap his legs around him and braces himself against the edge with his hands.
“You’re such a bloody tease,” he chides with a shake of his head.
“Shut up, Mer-- fuuuck,” he nearly chokes as Merlin’s cock breaches him without a warning, sliding in fully with one push. “Shit.”
“Okay?” Merlin checks with a quake in his voice, proving he’s not as collected as he makes himself to be.
“Y-yeah. Just move already.”
Merlin chuckles. “So bossy.” Then proceeds to do just that. He pulls back almost completely before pushing back in, again, and one more time until he’s settling into a rhythm.
It takes Arthur a couple more minutes to catch his breath but when he does, he focuses on meeting Merlin halfway, although the position barely allows it.
“M-Merlin.”
Merlin snaps his hips almost violently at hearing his name tumble from Arthur’s lips in that tone and Arthur moans loudly when he drives directly into his prostate.
“Fuck! Fuck, Merlin. R-right there.”
“God, Arthur. It‘s so good. You’re so good.”
Arthur keens at the praise, urging Merlin to go faster.
Instead, Merlin halts all the movement, earning a desperate whine from Arthur. He chuckles at the reaction and leans forward to slide his hands underneath him to pull him up until he’s sitting up, their chests close enough to touch.
“Arthur,” he whispers in the space between them before there’s none because suddenly, Merlin’s crashing their lips together, unexpected and so good. He swallows the surprised sound from Arthur’s lips, licking into his mouth.
Arthur moans in agreement, wrapping him in his arms and deepening the kiss.
Merlin grabs him by the hips again and starts a new rhythm, his thrust shorter but harder.
Arthur whimpers against his lips, squeezing Merlin between his thighs. He gives up any effort to help Merlin out and decides to kiss the living hell out of him while Merlin plows his ass.
It works just fine and it’s not long before Merlin’s thrusts grow erratic and uncoordinated.
“A-Arthur,” he chokes out between kisses. “I’m gonna...”
Instead of replying, Arthur takes his lips in another kiss and clenches around his cock, drawing a hiss from him.
“Arthur!”
“Yeah, come on,” he encourages and clenches his ass again.
Merlin manages two, three, four more thrusts before he stills, buried to the hilt and spills himself inside Arthur. He presses his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck, panting against the sweaty skin while his hips continue their subtle grinding motion.
Arthur presses a kiss to his temple, sliding his fingers through the dark locks, marveling at the silkiness.
Merlin lifts his head to peer at him from under his lashes. His pupils are blown wide, overtaking all the blue of his irises. There’s a lovely flush to his cheeks and the way his fringe sticks to his sweaty forehead is almost endearing.
Arthur’s never seen him like this and he wants to appreciate the view but doesn’t get much time because then, Merlin is untangling his legs from around him and slides to his knees in front of Arthur. He gives him a little smirk before opening his mouth wide and swallowing his cock.
“Nngh!” Arthur yelps with surprise, throwing his head back in unexpected pleasure.
“Shit, Merlin.”
Merlin hums around his cock and starts sucking him in earnest. It feels so good he can’t even feel embarrassed when he feels Merlin’s come leaking out of him and to his shock, he also feels Merlin’s fingers slide into him again, hitting his prostate with deadly precision. “Merlin!”
It barely takes another half a minute before Arthur’s screaming himself hoarse as his orgasm overtakes him and he comes in Merlin’s mouth. Still, Merlin’s mouth doesn’t leave him, working him through his release instead until he’s whimpering from over-sensitivity and pulling at his hair to pry him off.
Merlin releases his cock with an obscene sound that echoes in the small room, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stands up between Arthur’s open legs.
“Are you okay?” is the first thing he asks and Arthur can’t help but laugh.
“Are you for real?” Merlin just blinks at him. “We should have done that ages ago, instead of the massage.”
Merlin groans in annoyance. “That’s not the nature of my business, Arthur!”
His irritation only amuses Arthur further. “You could make an exception for me,” he teases, pulling Merlin closer and Merlin goes willingly, although the scowl is still on his face.
“That depends on how much you’ll tip me,” he shoots back.
“Oh, I’ll tip you all you want, Merlin.”
Merlin slaps the back of his head gently. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Hmm. But I think you like it,” he says smugly, pulling him into another kiss, letting out a moan when he tastes himself on his lips.
“You’re awfully confident for someone who just got fucked on a massage table.”
“You mean for someone who just talked his masseur into fucking him on a massage table.”
“I think manipulated is better-fitting.”
“Or seduced.”
Merlin scoffs. “You did not seduce me.”
“Oh, really?” he teases. “I’d say you gave it up pretty easy after seeing me in my birthday suit.”
“I did not!”
“You did, though.”
“Your mind is misleading you.”
“Whatever you say,” Arthur concludes dismissively, then gives Merlin a wicked grin. “Next time, you’re gonna lie down on this table and I’m gonna ride you.”
Unsursprisingly, Merlin all but chokes on thin air. “That... uh... sounds... agreeable.”
“I’ll say.”
“You’re so annoyingly confident.”
“Just because you make it so easy.”
“Arthur.”
“Merlin,” he huffs. “Shut up. And kiss me again.”
And for once, without a single protest, Merlin does just that.
OMFG, Merlin! You DIDN'T!
Huh?
Don't "huh" me! You know bloody well!
Apparently not.
You fucked my boss!
!!! JFC, I can't believe he told you! :O
I sent him your way so he got that stick out of his ass. Not for you to replace it with your dick!
He didn't. His limp did, jsyk.
He could have hurt his leg or something...
And he brought me coffee. He'd never brought me coffee before! I've never seen him in such a good mood!
Your welcome :-*
*You're
That's disgusting. I'm never getting a massage from you ever again!
Oh, well... it was worth it :-p
*Freya has left the chat*
54 notes · View notes
krreader · 4 years
Text
ensorcell | chapter 7.
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pairing: prince!taehyung x reader ; park jimin x your best friend fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; prince!taehyung ;  arranged marriage ; language genre: fluff ; angst ; smut word count: 2.4k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6
summary: it was funny, how meeting one single person could change your life forever. you were ordinary, he was not. he was rich, you were not. he fell in love with you and so did you. even though he was never supposed to.
a/n: Idk, it never feels like the last update has been so long ago and then I’m like F U C. but anyways, I hope you like this chapter, because I am so excited for it!!!
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“Come on, this isn't even a hard topic,” your best friend said over FaceTime.
“You try balancing university and the life of a royal, we'll see how you do.
You let out a breath when you scratched out almost half the page that you had just written.
Your mind was somewhere else, you couldn't focus on your studies, but you knew you had to if you wanted to graduate.
“I'll send you my material once I'm home, okay? Everything I have. Maybe that'll help you.”
“Thank you,” the corner of your mouth raised into a small smile, “And I'm sorry I haven't called much lately.”
“Don't be sorry, I know life must be difficult, but.. well.. Jimin invited me to stay with him for a few weeks once I'm done with this semester and I accepted. To see him, but most importantly, to see my best friend again.”
“Wh..- Are you serious?!” you grabbed your phone and pulled it closer, “Don't joke around, please, I don't think I can handle it right now.”
“I wouldn't joke when it comes to this,” she giggled, “I thought it'd be good to be by your side again. I'll arrive a few days before the wedding and will stay three weeks in total. So I can help you with anything you need.”
“You are truly the best.”
“I know,” she brushed her hair back behind her shoulders, making both of you laugh, “Okay, gotta go, sweetheart. I'll text you when I'm home, alright?”
“Okay. Be safe. Love you.”
“Love you too,” and with that she ended the call and you pulled the phone to your chest, falling back into the mattress so happily at the thought of finally seeing your best friend again.
Taehyung, his mother and his siblings were all doing their best to make you feel at home here, but having her by your side would truly make you feel at ease for once.
The closer the wedding day came, the more nervous you got and the more stressed, equally.
You were now being tutored in politics, history, economy and geography, but also had to attend classes on how to act, speak, walk and dress like a princess. On top of that, you had your normal courses that you had to finish, had a wedding to plan, had to get to know your future husband and had to make sure to stay out of trouble.
To sum it up, you were close to having mental breakdowns every single night.
“What got you so happy?” Taehyung knocked and then walked in when you sat back up.
“Did you know that (Y/B/F) would visit soon? Jimin invited her and she'll be here before the wedding and will stay for three weeks!” you literally bubbled with excitement.
“Jimin invited her?” Taehyung sat down on the couch in your room, a small smile tugging on his face, “Wow.. if he invites her here he must be really serious about her.”
“Well, maybe we can convince them to marry too. We could have a double wedding,” you joked, making him chuckle.
The relationship between you and him had shifted.
You were comfortable around each other now, called each other friends already.. but because of how busy you both were, nothing more was able to blossom so far.
It had stayed at that last kiss for the cameras. Now you only held hands and hugged each other when out in public, but only so that the story you were trying to convey was being more believable and you still were in the good graces of the public.
The pressure was simply making it hard for you two to step your relationship up a notch, but you figured that being friends with him was a good first step. Everything else would hopefully happen naturally.
“How are your studies going?” he asked as he got back up to look over your shoulder, only to snort when he saw the page being an absolute mess, scribbles everywhere and it didn't seem to make any sense at all, “Not good, I see.”
“Maybe I should just quit. I mean, it's settled now that I'll become a queen eventually, I don't really need my degree, right?”
“Hey, don't say that,” Taehyung shook his head, “You've worked so hard for your education before you met me. Don't let me ruin it. I don't want that.”
“I just can't seem to focus on it right now.. there's too much other stuff going on.”
“Listen,” he sat down next to you, his hand carefully on top of yours as he wasn't sure what you were comfortable with, but when you turned it around so that he could hold it, he got his answer, “I know that this is a lot.. it would be for anyone, but you're not alone in this. I think you should focus more on this right now,” he looked at your notebook, “Let me and my family handle the wedding stuff.”
“Your father won't be happy I'm skipping his very important 'royal history' classes, though.”
“They're boring anyways, I can sum it up for you in twenty five minutes and you'd never have to have one of those classes again,” he loved making you smile. He loved your smile. Did he ever say that to you? Maybe not.. he should tell you how much he loved seeing you like this, “Let me talk to him.”
That made you beam. The thought alone of dropping one class, whether it be for your royal duties or your uni degree made it all seem so much easier all of a sudden.
“I'd appreciate it.”
“Perfect. Then I'll do that.”
There was a moment of silence between you two, you lowering your head to look at your hands until he did the same, his thumb gently brushing over your skin with a smile.
“It's hard to find moments like this,” Taehyung admitted, “I wish we could have more before the wedding..”
“Well.. we'll have plenty afterwards,” you wiggled your eyebrows, making Taehyung chuckle once more
And as if on cue, because you truly did not get a break in this palace, the door to your room got opened and his father entered without bothering to see whether or not that was even okay.
You would have expected Taehyung to jump up and away from you, but he did not. He stayed on your bed and he kept holding your hand.
After all, you were becoming his wife, so holding hands was allowed, right? “What are you doing here?” his father asked.
“I think I have more reason to be here than you do,” he retorted.
Taehyung had admitted that the relationship with his father was becoming worse by the day and you could really feel it. The atmosphere was so chilly all of a sudden.
“Never mind. I need both of you anyways. We have a situation that requires your attention.”
“A situation?” you asked, now both of you getting up from the bed and following him when he left the room wordlessly.
He was on his own, only his assistant following him like an obedient dog.
You thought he might give you a little bit more details as to what it is that was going on all of a sudden, but you got nothing out of his father and neither did Taehyung, despite him continuously asking.
You only realized what was going on when you entered a room in which two people were in.
One, Taehyung was not pleased to see at all.
“What is this?”
“Well, well, well, if it isn't my future husband,” Princess Dae, then. She got up from the couch and wanted to approach Taehyung, seemed to want to kiss his cheek, but he caught her arms in time and gently pushed her away, shaking his head.
“Stop this.”
“Princess Dae and her father are here because of a proposal,” Taehyung's father said, his hands confidently behind his back.
“I thought we were done with proposals,” Taehyung took a step back and wrapped an arm around your middle to pull you close, “We agreed on what's going to happen.” “Well.. you agreed and completely left me out,” Dae sighed heavily and plopped down next to her father, “Very rude, Taehyungie.”
The nickname coming from her made him cringe visibly.
“Taehyung, you've always been a very smart man. You've always put your kingdom first and knew what was best for your people. I know that. That is why I wanted my daughter to marry you, because I knew she and you together would be wonderful rulers,” her father started, taking a sip from his drink, before continuing, “What happened was.. unfortunate. But I can not blame you. I was a young man too, once. I wanted to experiment and see what the real world was like out there. I, however, was smart enough not to get caught while doing so.”
Taehyung snorted and shook his head, “This is ridiculous.”
“Listen to what he has to say, son.”
“Our agreement was to have half of what's ours be yours. But you see, I'm old, Taehyung. My wife is old. We want to settle down, we want to be normal and live a normal life. We want to spend the rest of our days in peace with dogs and grandchildren, not rule until an heir is old enough to take my place. So we thought, why not give you all?”
“Excuse me?” he furrowed his eyebrows.
“If you marry my daughter, my kingdom will fully be yours. Everything I own, every piece of land, every men at my disposal.. it will all be yours. Instead of splitting my kingdom with you, I'm transferring all of its power to you and your kingdom. You will have double the resources, double the men and double the power.”
Taehyung stared at him for a moment, then turned his head to his father, “Are you serious?! I'm getting married to (Y/N) in two weeks, we held a press conference and told our people, everything is decided! And you're still trying to sway me?!”
“Taehyung,” you said quietly, trying to have him calm down. Him screaming at his father, king or no king, was probably not a good idea right now.
“We need this. You know that our kingdom isn't doing as well as it once was anymore. With this, with their kingdom at our disposal, we'd be so well off economically that we or our people would never have to worry again!” the king took four large steps, then he was right in front of Taehyung, grabbing his face to make him look at him. Really look at him, “I want what's best for you. For your future. For the future of our kingdom. And this deal is the best we could ever get.”
It was a weird situation, because they were talking about marrying him off to someone else, while you were still in the room.. did anybody pay attention to you? Only Taehyung. To the rest, you were invisible.
Your betrothed pushed away his father's hands and grabbed yours to pull you out of your room.
But before you were gone, his father said: “There will be another press conference tonight, Taehyung. I trust you will do the right thing. For all of us.”
He stopped for a moment, you thinking he might say something else, but he didn't.
He just pulled you along.
You wanted to talk to him about what had just happened, wanted to discuss it, especially because you felt like he needed to vent, but you couldn't.
Because he dropped you off at your room and you could see that he was angry. More than you'd ever seen him before.
“Do you trust me?” he said out of the blue.
“I wouldn't be here and I wouldn't have agreed to any of this if I didn't.”
“Then let me handle all of this. Stay in your room until my sister gets you later. Please..”
You let out a breath and gently cupped his face.
You wished he could have stayed, but he only wrapped his hands around your wrists, kissed your forehead and then pushed them away to go and do whatever it was that he felt like he had to.
And you were doing exactly what he said, not knowing at all what was going to happen next.
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It's been three hours and you had really felt those hours.
You had tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked.
At this point you were just walking up and down your room, waiting for something, anything, to happen.
Until finally the door got opened and his sister walked in.
You thought she might take you somewhere, but she immediately shook her head, “Sit..”
“Oh god.. he took the deal, didn't he?”
“Just.. turn on your TV. And please sit down, I don't think you can stand.”
That worried you ten times more.
Why couldn't she just tell you what the hell was going on? Why did she now have to make it such a mystery, too?
She sat down next to you as you did what she asked, the press conference starting any second.
“This day must have been draining for you. I'm very sorry about that.”
“I just wish I would know what the hell is going on..”
“You're about to find out,” she straightened her back when her brother appeared on TV.
He was dressed in his finest suit, looked as dashing as he always did, but.. a lot more stern than usual. Tonight, Taehyung looked less like a prince and more like a king.
You gulped down hard and prepared yourself mentally for him saying that he was going to marry someone else and that this fantasy of him and you was over before it could even really start.
“This is all very last minute, so please excuse me for not having a proper speech tonight, but I think you will forgive me,” he said with a charming smile, making the press in the room chuckle. He was a natural at this, “Some of you have already published articles throughout the course of the day about the rumors of Princess Dae and I possibly getting married after all. Now, I want to make it very clear.. these are rumors.”
You let out a sigh of relief and leaned forward, burying your face in your hands.
But you didn't get a break.
You never got a break here.
His sister softly brushed her hand up and down your back until you were looking at her.
“He'd never hurt you, (Y/N),” she whispered.
“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion
“I mean.. he loves you too much to lose you.”
And as your eyes widened at the word love, you turned your head back to the TV, just in time to hear Taehyung say: “You have all been so kind in the support of my fiancé, the future princess and queen (Y/N). I could not be more grateful to you all. Especially in times such as this one.”
You got up on your feet, his sister trying to pull you back, but you just kept walking forward with furrowed eyebrows until you were right in front of the screen.
“I am hereby announcing that my fiancé, future princess (Y/N) and I, are expecting a child.”
Well.. when the fuck did that happen?
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edwardslostalchemy · 4 years
Text
Debutante Band Au
Okay, I’ve been debating on whether or not to post about this au, but it’s become such a good idea to think about this past week, so I want to share it with everyone. 
This started as a simple idea: Shouto plays wingman for Momo and Katsuki while at a dance and in an attempt to get them to finally get together, he plays Kiss the Girl from The Little Mermaid. This little idea spurred an ENTIRE AU. So here it is from the beginning.
Okay so when Shouto is younger, his mother has a mental breakdown and is sent to the hospital. And Touya runs away from home. Enji is really abusive, okay. Like in canon. However, because Shouto is hurt and is traumatized, his therapist suggests he get a hobby or activity where he can like cope with his trauma. So Shouto learns how to play the bass because Touya would play it and that made Fuyumi and Natsuo happy. And he wanted to sing the songs that Rei would sing. So he turned to music as a coping mechanism. He knows Momo and Tenya since they were kids because they grew up in the same social circle since they're all rich. Shouto was homeschooled up until middle school where he decided he wanted to go to public school instead of private school, as a way to defy Enji. And okay Enji let him go to public school as long as Shouto would promise to get top grades so he can get into UA, the high school Enji wants him to attend. Shouto meets Izuku and Katsuki (he is not as much of a jerk in this au and does not bully Izuku, he just has anger issues, but he's better in this au). Izuku and Katsuki know how to play the drums because they took music lessons together and Shouto is like !!!!!!!!!!!! Katsuki doesn't want to play with them, but Shouto and Izuku play together, just practicing their instruments and singing whatever. So they get very used to one another. They're very close friends, but Shouto and Katsuki are also okay friends like they have a teasing friendship and they compete, but it's not like in canon where Katsuki is like personally offended by everything. Because they all want to get into the same high school, these three along with Momo and Tenya study together for a year so they can do a good job on the entrance exam. Momo and Shouto have a recommendation exam and Tenya, Izuku, and Katsuki take the regular exam like in canon. They get in yay. In UA, Shouto meets Kyoka and Denki in their class and he learns they play piano and guitar, respectively. So he recruits them so they can all form a band. He just needs one more person and somehow the conversation comes up with Hitoshi and he's like "yeah, I had to learn to play an instrument so I know how to play the sax" and Shouto is like “this is IT, this is what this band needs, this band has not reached peak gay until we have the sax”. Anyways, all this happens.
I mentioned Enji is really abusive, still. So what happens is that at some point, Shouto...doesn't neglect his studies, but he isn't getting top grades like Enji wants him to. So what he does is he threatens him to raise them up or else he won't let him play his instrument anymore. He wants him to focus on school so he can get into a good uni and take over his company. Like all he cares about is what he wants, not what Shouto wants. And the thing is Shouto doesn't get the top grades because there's 4 people in front of him. So Enji throws his bass away and this devastates Shouto (it’s emotionally significant because it’s Touya’s and Shouto tried to take really good care of it). He goes to Izuku's house and he cries and he's really upset. So Izuku talks to Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi, and somehow Tenya and Momo hear and they all pitch in to buy Shouto a new bass. And he's so happy and grateful and he doesn't know how to repay them, and he even considered giving up on music because his father was getting in the way of his hobby. Enji thinks it's stupid and that it's "not his thing". But the kids all encourage Shouto and he continues. They’d participate in some sort of music-related event I haven’t decided on like a talent show or even a culture festival or something like that, but they’d play. This would be like in their first year of high school.
Shouto and Izuku are good friends with Tenya and Ochako, too. At some point, Izuku and Ochako tried to date, but they realized they worked better as friends so they broke up and remained good friends. Shouto got a crush on Izuku some time after that, when he and Izuku had a talk about Shouto feeling inadequate because of his father. And Izuku was like "It's your hobby, isn't it? It's YOUR talent and YOU do whatever the fuck YOU want to do." ANd Shouto is like Oh man....he’s right....he’s so right.... And that stays with him until he realizes “I'm so gay for him oh my God”. Anyways. they notice Tenya and Ochako really like each other, and so Izuku and Shouto play wingmen for them, Shouto helping Tenya and Izuku helping Ochako. So they have movie nights and they all go out together and Izuku and Shouto do what they can to leave them alone so they can be together. And it's cute, and it's fairly easy for Ochako and Tenya to get together. The band plays something soft for them at some point when Tenya asks Ochako out and they become a couple. This is like in second year, maybe.
NOW FOR THE THING THAT STARTED ALL OF THIS SHIT. There is a debutante ball coming up during third year and Shouto, Momo, and Tenya have to go to it because they're all part of the rich circle. Momo has to go as a debutante because her father is the host. Tenya has to go because his parents have been asked by their friends if he could accompany their daughter, Mei. And Enji has a list of names of girls that Shouto could ask to go with. But Shouto doesn't WANT to go. He would rather ask Izuku to go with him, but Izuku is not part of the rich circle nor is he a debutante rip. And he tells Momo about this and she's like.....you know what, my dad is looking for a band to play at the ball....I'll ask him to see if you can play. And so Momo convinces her dad to have the Band play at the ball, after the band plays his favorite song and he's so here for it, he's like ohmg yes let them play. So Shouto doesn't go to the ball as a date, he goes with his band hell yeah. But he's acting as wingman for Momo and Katsuki because they're too uhhh shy to talk to each other, but Shouto is their mutual friend. So Shouto suggests to Momo that she ask Katsuki to go to the ball with her. He goes with her. And in the ball, the Band plays all these lovely dovey songs but rock version. Like soft rock. And girls are like falling for Shouto and the Band because Shouto is a pretty boy that can sing and play bass and he looks great doing it, and everyone’s a sucker for the drummer, Izuku is just too cute not to look at and go heart eyes, as are Denki and Hitoshi and Kyoka. All of them are talented and cute. They all want the Band’s number so they can play at their parties. Anyways, Shouto sees that Katsuki and Momo are still being major wusses and he has the Band play Kiss the Girl from the Little Mermaid to like give them a push. bakumomo get together and the Band gives a great performance. Enji is there because he has to be and he hears the Band play and everyone is complimenting him for his son's talent and how great the Band sounds. He's still not happy about it.
LAST BIT. After iichako and bakumomo get together, they're like "have you noticed Izuku and Shouto like each other?" So they act as wingmen for tododeku now. However, the Band is going to compete in Battle of the Bands and Shouto is stressing out about it because he wants their performance to be perfect. He and Izuku have an argument because Izuku tries to comfort him, but Shouto, stressed out, doesn't know how to accept the comfort. So Izuku leaves and there's tension between them. And Shouto feels so frustrated because he feels inadequate and this is supposed to be his THING and he feels like he sucks. ANd he wants to talk to Izuku about it until he remembers they had a fight, and then he talks to Momo and Tenya and they're like we gotta give him the Help. So Shouto plans to apologize by singing to Izuku I want it that way by the backstreet boys, and so Tenya and Momo bring Izuku to a place I haven't decided yet, and he's surprised by the Band playing (Katsuki filling in to play drums). And Shouto sings and then everyone leaves them alone so they can have a talk. And so they both apologize and actually confess to each other. Shouto says he's afraid his father will find out about the relationship and will kick him out of the house, so he asks for them to keep their relationship a secret until they graduate (they need like a couple months). So they are together and happy.
I know I said last bit, but there is my otp endeavor x consequences that needs to get together. This one is very angsty and I'm not sure if I should even write it but here we go. Enji DOES find out about the relationship and he forces Shouto to break up with Izuku over speakerphone. He also confiscates his phone. And because Shouto had dyed his hair so he could have half of it white instead of completely red, he takes Shouto so he can undye it. Shouto is so upset and sad about all of this. Enji really is going berserk about him finding out he's gay and Shouto's afraid. Fuyumi isn't home for this, she was away for a trip, but when she comes home, she finds Shouto more sensitive and has a talk with him and he doesn't know how to tell her because he's scared she'll hate him, too. And so, he does tell her, and something in Fuyumi just snaps. And so she...finally has enough and she asks Tensei who at the police station for help to report their father because this is just. Where she can't sit back anymore. She's afraid, too, but she can't let Enji hurt her brother anymore. Meanwhile, Izuku is so upset because he KNOWS Enji made Shouto break up with him, and he tells Inko and Toshinori about the abuse he's put Shouto through, and so Toshinori asks Tsukauchi for help, and Tsukauchi and Tensei team up to bring down Enji. He goes to jail because there’s enoug proof against him and Shouto is finally able to live his life. I really want for Shouto to play I'm still standing by Elton John while wearing something that screams "I'm Gay" in front of Enji, just to get back at him somewhere in this. 
Anyway, Toshinori has been hearing the Band for a while now because he’s Izuku’s ‘uncle’ and he has been looking out for Inko and Izuku after Hisashi is gone (I’m not sure if he’d go to jail or divorce or pass away....I don’t know....he’s not here, though), so Inko would find herself struggling sometimes, but Toshinori, being good friends with her and being a CEO of one of the best companies, helps her out. And so he becomes Izuku’s uncle. So he knows Izuku is good friends with Shouto and it’s sweet because he gets to see these kids get along and have fun. It makes him sad to find out that Shouto’s father, Enji, has been mistreating his family and he asks his friend Tsukauchi for help in this. Toshinori has connections and knows people in the music industry, and he introduces the Band to Present Mic, who owns a record label, and because I say so, the Band becomes famous, calling themselves Debutante because the debutante ball was when they really had like....one of the biggest successful events where they got a lot of people to ask for them to play for events, even Toshinori. Also because I say so, their albums become huge international successes. Their first album is called “God is a Woman” and Momo is on the cover to represent the album. 
This AU has nothing about Izuku and Shouto taking over Toshinori’s and Enji’s legacies, these boys are doing what they want and following their dreams with the rest of the band. They make names for themselves and win 10 thousand Grammys and awards because I want them to. The Band plays lovey dovey songs, but also classic rock songs and pop songs, and I want them to have a sort of Adelesque feel to their music, dramatic with a lot of meaning and it impacts a person when they listen to it like “YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THIS IS SENDING ME”. Because I believe that Shouto writing lyrics would be like about his life so he can cope and also release anger. And Adele had an entire album about her breakup so I think that Shouto would write songs about stuff that’s happened and it would be raw and heavy, and it would be great music. But the Band would also write about other things, too. And do covers. And movies and shows would ask them to make songs for them. 
If anyone is curious about what I mean by lovey dovey songs, this is what I mean https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILCF3Ef7gyw&list=RDILCF3Ef7gyw (Frank Sinatra, Elvis, Ben E. King, all those guys). As for rock music, this is it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdOLFtk9joI&list=RDsdOLFtk9joI and yes, they can pull it off with the sax. I have some more stuff on this AU, but I just wanted to share the ...premise, I guess. This AU has made me really happy this past week because I’ve been listening to this type of music and it lifts my spirits. I’ve also talked to like 4 people about this and I’ve dragged them down with me into this au. I’ve also adopted all these brotps and I’m becoming happier, also happier for Shouto because he gets to have friends and he gets to lead the Band. 
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captainjanegay · 4 years
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hi kasia!! i hope you’ve had a wonderful day 🥰💕 i love you so so much! 😘
ok so for the little sleepover thingy...
first: i have a song recommendation— i know it’s been going around in this little corner of the fandom recently, but i just listened to it today and i love it so much 🥺❤️ apparently it was written for stucky, specifically from steve’s perspective. it makes me super emotional but it’s so good imo!
second, a little frustration rant: i’m technically supposed to be working on this essay right now and finally, after fighting with a mental block for a few days, i got started on it. so i guess that’s good? i’m just annoyed because i don’t like it, and it’s just going super slow 😣 also i have another longer and more difficult essay/more important one due on the same day, and they’re both due on november 1st, so i’m super-duper stressed out by it lol
i’ve literally had like 5 breakdowns and 2 panic attacks in the past few days so there’s just a lot going on and i just want to be able to write and draw for fun again 🥺 luckily within a few weeks all of this stress will be over! i also have an interview for a new job tomorrow and i really don’t wanna go because the lady didn’t sound very nice on the phone. but i shouldn’t assume i guess
but yeah— i’m managing! barely
one good thing is that my friend’s fundraiser has made nearly $300 US dollars!! which is more than they ever thought, so i’m proud! ☺️
oh for fucks sake tumblr ate the answer again i hate this site so damn much
Hello, little pumpkin! I love you to pieces and just seeing your name on my dash makes me smile ♥ @hbalbat
I’ve seen this song on my dash today - probably when you’ve reblogged it and I was like “Oh, I’m totally gonna listen to it later!” *John Mulaney voice* and then I didn’t! I’d totally forget about it if it wasn’t for you so thanks for that ♥ And the song? I mean wow. It fits so good and goes straight for the feels :’)))
I’m so proud of you for starting the essay! I know how hard can it be so yay! ♥ I always struggle so much with starting things - both because it’s always so hard to make myself start working on something and because it takes me AGES to come up with the first sentence? No matter if that’s academic writing, a fic, a message I just never know how to begin. So for me even the first sentence is already a great achievement djsdsgh School work is always horrible, I totally get the feeling! But no matter how slow it goes, it goes! With every word you’re getting closer to having it done and then you’ll be able to forget about this. There’s still plenty of time before your due date and I’m sure you’ll make it!
I’ve told you before but I’m gonna say it again - I’m so sorry you’re going through a rough path in life lately. There’s nothing I’d like to do more than to wrap you in a hug and don’t let go until everything feels better again ♥♥ But you’re such an incredible and strong person, you’ve overcame every single obstacle that life has thrown your way up to this point and I’m sure that you’re gonna get through this as well! There’s nothing that can stop you. I know for a FACT that there’s nothing able to break you because you’re amazing like that ♥♥♥
About the job thing - I really hope it’ll go alright! I’ll keep my fingers crossed and I’m gonna send good thoughts all the way across Atlantic to you! ♥ I’m really impressed btw like really. My anxiety makes me terrified just thinking about getting a job and it’s horrible and i hate it and it can be one of the reasons I’m sticking to uni for as long as I can. I’m so not ready to be a proper adult dajsdak And look at you! Managing to study and work at the same time?? Remember what I said about you being incredible? That’s totally another argument to convince you that I’m right!
And hey! Barely managing is still managing dsajdakj lmao let’s not forget that!
I’m so happy about the fundraiser! It’s such a great cause and I’m so happy they’ve been able to made all this money! ♥♥
Thank you so much for sending this, sorry you’ve had to wait for me to re-type this whole thing again and I love you loads, sweetheart! ♥♥♥
.
sleepover time! ♥
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artificialqueens · 4 years
Text
Not Nineteen Forever (16) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega
a/n: it’s been almost FOUR MONTHS what the fucking fuck?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! i’m so so sorry for my absence, i really have no excuse apart from work and life getting in the way. this chapter was a fucker to write but i hope it doesn’t disappoint! as always i would love for u to tell me if u enjoyed either on aq or on my blog. p.s. i am so excited i get to write chapter 17 now. GET EXCITED for that one xoxoxox
please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!
summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.
last chapter: the least romantic of Valentine’s Days ever saw Brooke regretting cutting ties with Vanessa and Nina misguidedly breaking up with Monet. Scyvie stayed cute and unproblematic xoxo
this chapter: for Scarlet’s birthday she is gifted: a lie in, Yvie acting incredibly suspiciously, and a girlfriend-serenading plan worthy of a rom-com.
***
Scarlet woke up with an excited tingle in her tummy, a rush of adrenaline forcing her eyes open. She blinked one, twice, had the ever-familiar confusion (Am I waking up in my flat or Yvie’s?…Mine.) and then chastised herself for still feeling like a child on Christmas Eve on the 26th of February each year. Laughing to herself as she rubbed her eyes, she supposed she couldn’t help it. Scarlet loved her birthday- as vain as it sounded, it was a day all about her, and as someone with the friendship anxiety she had it was always nice to see how much her friends cared for her. Sitting up and stretching, she remembered all the birthdays that had come before- being little and tearing down the stairs at home, her feet skiting over the Mr Sheen-ed floorboards and running into the kitchen to see all her presents piled up on the table and her Mums there ready to greet her with a cuddle and a ridiculously big birthday badge. With a twinge of pain, Scarlet remembered the birthday she’d celebrated in her first year of uni- no night out, she hadn’t had enough friends to assemble for that, just her and another girl she’d befriended who later dropped out of uni altogether watching films in her room. That was all behind her now, though. She had the girls, her second family, and they’d made every birthday since as special as the ones she’d had when she was a kid.
Grabbing her phone, she smiled to see that it was already blowing up with messages. She supposed she wasn’t surprised- it was already 11 o’clock in the morning, and most of the world had woken up. Scarlet had been lucky enough to have her birthday fall on a Sunday, and that meant no uni, no obligations, and no alarms. She read over the two texts she’d got from her Mums, both of them crying over how they couldn’t believe she was 21 already. Scarlet supposed it was easy to lose perspective at uni- she was the last in their group to hit that big milestone, save Yvie of course, and it had seemed like she’d been waiting for ages. But to her Mum and her Mam, she was their little baby that had somehow grown into an adult without much time seeming to pass at all. Pausing, Scarlet texted them both back with a similar number of crying face emojis and kisses. She would go visit them next weekend.
On the group chat, celebrations had already kicked off. The group dynamics were weird these days, Scarlet supposed. Nina was unusually quiet, not her jokey and upbeat self. Still, Scarlet could understand that given what had happened with her and Monet. She was one of the rare few that had actually been able to hear both sides of the story- Vanessa explaining the situation to her after lectures one day having heard it all from Monique and Yvie telling her everything that Nina had told her- but Scarlet still couldn’t seem to get her head around it. How could it be, she wondered, that two people could have been less on the same page? Monet ready to make things official with Nina and Nina, scared and paranoid and convinced of Monet’s infidelity, ending things to protect her own feelings. Except nobody’s feelings had been protected at all, Scarlet had sighed to Yvie one day, as both girls were heartbroken and pining for each other but neither were sure as to how to go about mending things. With a pang of sympathy, Scarlet realised it had been two weeks to the day since they had ended things. She knew it would have made the poor girl feel worse if she’d revealed what she knew- that Monet had been about to ask her to be her girlfriend- so Scarlet had kept quiet, figuring that Nina was probably heartbroken enough for now.
Vanessa, on the other hand, couldn’t have been in a more different position to Nina. Every time Scarlet saw her she would be ready with a new story about something hilarious Monique had done, or something funny she’d messaged her, or something she’d done that had made Vanessa “go all heart eyes” (to quote her directly). Scarlet was happy for Vanessa- she knew that the two girls were spending time together and getting to know each other (and, thanks to what Vanessa told her in completely unnecessary detail, knew they were at it like rabbits), and it was exactly what Vanessa needed after all the drama with Brooke.
Before Scarlet could think about Brooke’s situation though, another message came through on the group chat that distracted her enough to scroll up and read all the others.
large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: IT’S INTERNATIONAL SCARLET ENVY DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY BDAY HOE!!!!!!
Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Woooooo!!!!! Happy Birthday Scarlet we love you!!!
cursed satnav voice: BITCH HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!! Hope you have the best day, love you so much xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
okay then: aaaaaaaaah happy birthday Scarlet!!! 21 at last!!!!!
cursed satnav voice: Why is she not ANSWERING??????
Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Yvie’s offline too……
large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ENJOY THE SEX BITCHES
Maple Syrup: Can confirm they’re not fucking
Maple Syrup: Yvie has an essay due she’s not started so Scarlet never stayed over
okay then: thank u to our reporter in the field, Ms Brooke Lynn Hytes
Maple Syrup: I’m here to help
Maple Syrup: also Happy Birthday Scarlet!! Hope Yvie spoils you rotten xxxxx
Scarlet’s Bitch: ur all filthy animals i was getting a coffee
Scarlet’s Bitch: ready for crying breakdown number 2 of the day
Scarlet’s Bitch: i would absolutely not rather be with my incredibly fit, funny, gorgeous girlfriend
okay then: keep that gay shit off the chat
cursed satnav voice: Yvie!!!!!!!!!!! You guys are so cute i s2g
okay then: vanj don’t encourage them
cursed satnav voice: Allow it hoe!! I got dumped, I’m allowed to be mushy
Scarlet’s Bitch: oh, did Monique end things?
large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ASDFGHJKL YVIE I LOVE U
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
okay then: omg
cursed satnav voice: On God I will leave this chat again!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Scarlet allowed the crazy replies from her friends to pour in, Brooke notable by her absence in the melee. Despite everything, Scarlet had to feel sorry for her. Yvie had told her in complete pain-of-death secrecy that it sort of, maybe, might have been the case that Brooke regretted breaking up with Vanessa. Brooke hadn’t exactly said that to Yvie, but she knew it was heavily implied, and even if Brooke didn’t know herself then Yvie sure as hell did. Scarlet had rolled her eyes at first and complained about how idiotic Brooke was being but when she actually really thought about it, she could see Brooke for what she really was- scared, unsure and full of doubt, unaware of what her feelings even were. In all the time Scarlet had known Brooke, she’d never been in a relationship, which made Scarlet wonder if she’d ever had one in her life. It was strange how people could be so different. Back in High School Scarlet always thought relationships were as simple as two people liking each other, kissing and then deciding to be together. But nothing was ever as simple as that. Sometimes they started out as friends and had to jump that platonic hurdle, like her and Yvie. Maybe everything started out great but ended up getting messy even though the two people probably loved each other, a la Monet and Nina. Sometimes the two people just never put a label on it (Plastique and Ariel). And other times it was a complete clusterfuck. Like Brooke and Vanjie.
Watching as the girls all teased Vanjie and Brooke’s silence became louder and louder, Scarlet decided that now was probably the time for her to break the ice.
Yvie’s Bitch: AAH sorry i just woke up!!!!! Thank you guys, I love you all sososo much!! Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
cursed satnav voice: xxxxxxxxxxx i wish we were all going out tonight :(
Yvie’s Bitch: I know, downside of a Sunday birthday!! We could do something else if anyone’s free during the day though?? Snacks and movie?
cursed satnav voice: Sorry bae I’m gonna be in the lib :(
large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: SORRY ANGEL MY FAMILY’S DOWN TO VISIT
Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: Sorry baby I’ve got dance class
Scarlet frowned, trying her best not to be disappointed. Yvie was still making her a nice dinner at her flat tonight, and they were going to go and see a film even though they hadn’t decided which one yet. It would still be a good day. Even if Yvie had been acting a little weird recently- shielding her phone, closing her laptop quickly if Scarlet came into her room, seeming secretive. It was probably nothing. Scarlet was probably being paranoid as a result of everything that had happened to their friends recently. Yvie still told her how much she loved her every day, and made her laugh, and smiled at her in a way that made Scarlet feel like she was the most beautiful creature on earth.
As if on cue, her phone lit up as the selfie she and Yvie had taken on top of the big wheel at Christmas filled the screen. Smiling as she swiped across the screen, Scarlet held the phone to her ear. “Hey, you.”
Yvie’s voice had a hint of playfulness to it as she answered. “Hey. Y’know, I feel like there was something important today that I totally forgot, can you help me out?”
Scarlet laughed, leaning back in bed and keeping up the charade. “Oh shit, is it not that essay you have due in about 40 minutes?”
“No, that’s pretty much all I’ve been able to think about all day. And it’s definitely going to be handed in late.”
“Meh. Better late than never. Is it, uh…some sort of Saint’s Day? There’s fucking hundreds of those.”
“No, see I don’t think this has anything at all to do with Saints.”
Scarlet laughed, giving a gasp on mock-irritation. “The fuck’s that meant to mean, you bitch?”
“Well for one, I don’t think Saints squirt when they-”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Yvie!” Scarlet screamed, giggling as she cut her girlfriend off. “Where the hell are you?!”
Scarlet could practically hear the nonchalant shrug Yvie gave. “Library cafe.”
“You’re such a tit.”
“Mh. Prefer yours. Happy Birthday, by the way.”
Scarlet caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, smiling like an idiot at nothing. “Thanks, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too. So what’s your plan for your big day?”
“Shit all, to be honest, although I’ve been stressed out my mind all week about that group project I had on Friday so that’s probably for the best,” Scarlet blew air through her cheeks, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Sounds good,” Yvie replied, Scarlet only the slightest bit let down by the fact her girlfriend didn’t pick up on her mood at all. “Hey, I’ve got a plan for you if you want it?”
Scarlet’s ears pricked up as she absent-mindedly fiddled with the studs she had in her ears. “Okay?”
“Well, I’ll probably be back at the flat around…one-ish? So you can come see me then. But can you do me a favour, girl? Phone Nina?”
Scarlet crinkled her nose up in confusion. “Uh, sure, I can do that. How, uh. How come?”
“Because I’m getting more and more worried about her with every passing day and if she kills herself in the flat we won’t get our deposit back. That’s a joke of course, but in all seriousness I am worried about her.” Yvie reeled off in her own deadpan way, then lowered her voice. “I just got the weirdest look from this boy that just walked by me.”
“He probably thinks you’re fit.”
“He probably thinks I’m criminally insane after that sentence. Does that sound okay, though?”
Scarlet was a little confused by the whole request. “So you want me to just phone Nina? What do I say it’s about?”
“I don’t know, say you want to do something for your birthday and ask if she’s free. Just something to get her out of the flat for something that isn’t a lecture.”
Scarlet shrugged. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Thanks, baby. I’ll see you later, okay? Come by about one. I love you.”
“Love you too. See you later,” Scarlet replied, Yvie hanging up the phone first. Scarlet frowned, blinking. There was something entirely weird about the whole conversation, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She rubbed her forehead. She didn’t want to entertain any thoughts of Yvie acting suspiciously, not after the breakdown of two relationships now in the friendship group, so without stopping to let the dam break in her head and for all those thoughts to flood in, she dialled Nina’s number. It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?”
Scarlet raised her eyebrows in surprise. Nina’s voice was a lot chirpier than she’d expected. “Uh, hey Nina. It’s just me.”
“Hey, Scarlet! Happy Birthday!” the girl’s voice came down the line again, Scarlet starting to wonder if it actually was Nina or not. “Just the girl, actually. I was wondering if you wanted to help me with something today?”
Scarlet stretched out in bed. This was an odd day. “Sure, sure. I was actually phoning to ask if you wanted to hang out, so that works. What do you need?”
“So basically I’ve decided that I’m going to cut my losses and go and stand outside Monet’s flat on the street with a speaker blasting a romantic song in a bid to win her back.”
Scarlet felt like going back to sleep. She couldn’t believe any of this was happening. “You’re…you’re what, sorry?”
“Yeah, I know, I know. It’s absolutely batshit crazy and probably won’t even work. But that’s two weeks I’ve been feeling like utter shit about the entire thing, and last night I just had this shock of motivation and clarity and I kind of told myself that if I really wanted her back that much I would have to just eat a concrete mixer of humble pie and just go and tell her what she means to me.”
In the list of things Scarlet never imagined Nina doing, publically putting herself out there in what could be an incredibly humiliating apology was probably at the top spot. Scarlet supposed it had to be seen to be believed. “Well, I’d love to come and be your moral support. You’re brave as shit, girl.”
“Ugh, you’re an angel. Can we meet halfway and then walk up to her flat together? Maybe outside the Sainsbury’s near me? In like, half an hour?”
Scarlet looked at the clock, then looked again in the mirror.  “Forty-five minutes?”
“Perfect. See ya then. Bye, Scarlet!”
“Bye,” Scarlet replied, bemused beyond belief. Giving herself a kick up the bum, she launched herself out of bed, grabbed a towel, and made her way to the shower. Forty-five minutes was a challenge, but she would make it work.
She was only ten minutes late when she met Nina outside the shop, which for the always-running-late-Scarlet was quite good. She saw with a pleasant surprise that Nina had changed out of the grotty black Primark leggings and huge oversized pyjama top she’d been wearing like a heartbroken uniform around the flat for the past two weeks, and had put on a pair of clean jeans and a red jumper. The two greasy plaits that Brooke had put her hair into last Friday were gone too, and she’d washed her hair and straightened it so it was all sleek and glossy. There wasn’t any makeup on her face, but Scarlet would allow it. This was already more than she’d expected.
“Hey, girl,” Scarlet greeted her, Nina bouncing a little in surprise as Scarlet appeared beside her. “You look so good!”
“Aw, thanks! Jesus Christ I’m so nervous it’s like I can’t even think. Oh, shit, happy birthday!” Nina said, almost in one breath as she hugged Scarlet tightly, clinging to her like an anchor and in turn illustrating how nervous she was. “How’s it going so far?”
“Yeah, okay. Well, no. A bit weird actually,” Scarlet furrowed her brow, sweeping a hand through her hair as she thought about the phone call from Yvie. “Has Yvie seemed off to you at all?”
Nina shrugged, shaking her head. “No.”
“Right. It’s just…ugh, she phoned me this morning. Everything was fine, it was just….I don’t know. Something seemed off. She said she was in the Library cafe but…I could actually hear her, you know?”
“That place has all the decibels of a rave combined with the noise level of my placement class,” Nina agreed. Then, frowning, she shook her head. “She was probably just on the way out of it.”
“Yeah…” Scarlet muttered, still puzzled. “She told me to phone you, you know.”
Nina laughed, kicking the bluetooth speakers she’d set down on the pavement, presumably too heavy for her to hold. “Oh, fuck. Checking up on the latest casualty of love, then?”
Scarlet was suddenly embarrassed, unsure as to whether or not she should’ve told Nina that. “Do you not think that’s a bit…odd?”
“Nah. Not in the least. Hey, speaking of, can we get this show on the road before I completely shit myself and/or back out?” Nina asked quickly, taking a deep exhale and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Scarlet nodded quickly, apologizing and offering to help Nina with her speakers.
“No, you’re fine. This is my cross to bear,” Nina insisted, puffing a little as she picked them up and started walking in the direction of Monet’s flat. Scarlet knew it was only a few minutes’ walk away.
“So, uh. I have a lot of questions,” Scarlet laughed a little, pleased to see Nina up and about. Every time she’d been round at Yvie’s the girl had looked an absolute sight, and had only changed her clothes once- one day where she tried to go into uni but came back sobbing as she’d seen Monet and the girl had completely blanked her. “The first one is…do the others know that you’re doing this?”
“No. Only decided last night, and I’ve been psyching myself up ever since. I’m tired of feeling like shit, I’m tired of not knowing what could happen if I just swallowed my pride and told her the truth. I was so happy with Monet, I…” Nina sighed, stopping and hitching the speakers back up. “I want to feel that happy again.”
Scarlet nodded understandingly, and they walked in silence for a moment. Nina spoke after a short pause.
“What’re the others?”
“Huh?”
“The other questions? You said you had a lot.”
“Oh, right. Well, they all kind of combine into one, really, I mean…where did you get this idea from?” Scarlet laughed, her stomach tensing as they turned into Monet’s street. She didn’t know why she was nervous. It’s not as if she was trying to get her girlfriend back.
“Well, one of Monet’s favourite films is Ten Things I Hate About You, and I’m kind of trying to recreate that. She’s a romantic, and…well, I’m shy. I need to at least try putting myself out there, even if it’s only to win her back. It’s been over a week and I’ve been torturing myself with the whole thing day after day after day. I’m grabbing life by the balls, I’m womaning up. I’m making my own happy ending,“ Nina said determinedly, heaving the speakers a final step and planting them outside Monet’s stairwell.
"No I know! It’s very inspiring. Just…I mean, you could’ve texted her first?” Scarlet chewed her lip, watching Nina flick through her phone. “I mean, she might be out.”
“Much more romantic this way, Scarlet, and romance is the order of the day. I mean how many Disney princesses get wooed by a text? None. Monet’s a princess and she deserves a princess attempt at begging her to take me back,” Nina said matter-of-factly. Scarlet watched as Nina looked up at Monet’s window, the confidence she’d possessed earlier now seeming to melt away. Scarlet took a little step forward and squeezed her shoulder.
“Hey. This will work. I know it. Monet still likes you,” Scarlet gave her friend a comforting smile. “I know she does.”
Taking a deep breath and smiling a smile of gratitude, Nina suddenly pressed play on her phone and a loud intro boomed out through the speakers. It was louder than Scarlet had been expecting. Deafening, even. Never mind Monet’s flat, half the street could probably hear it. The first faces were already starting to appear at windows, but Nina began undeterred, staring up at the window that meant the most to her hopefully.
“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…”
Scarlet jumped as the window above Monet’s suddenly flew open and an outraged bald man yelled an obscenity out of it. Nina continued.
“I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…and I thank God I’m-”
“Turn that fucking racket off!” came a yell from a flat across the road. Annoyed, Scarlet threw them the middle finger. Nina kept going, her face almost pained as her eyes flicked between the three windows at the front of Monet’s flat. She completed another verse and then casually hummed along with the start of the instrumental, and all at once Scarlet saw her face light up as Monet’s curtain was pulled back and Monet, Bob and Monique appeared at the window. Scarlet watched as Monet’s face rapidly displayed confusion, annoyance, and finally affection as she realised where the noise was coming from. As Monet threw her window open, Nina flung her arms out and beamed up at her, in the face of now several angry tenants from both sides of the street who were doing everything from wishing Nina an untimely death to phoning the police.
“I love you baby, and if it’s quite alright I need you baby, to warm the lonely nights, I love you baby, trust in me when I say-”
Monet was attempting to inject some form of disapproval into her tone as she shouted down, but her huge smile gave too much away. “Nina, what the hell-”
“Oh pretty baby, don’t bring me down I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I found you stay and let me love you, baby, let me love you!” Nina continued, cutting Monet off mid-sentence. Bob had raised an unconvinced eyebrow at the singing Nina but Monique seemed to be loving it, and had her phone out filming it all.
“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off-” Nina started again, but stopped abruptly as the music suddenly died. Confused and frowning, Nina ran to the speaker. Dismayed, she looked up at Scarlet. “Shit! It’s out of battery!”
There was a moment where the two girls on the street level looked at each other with panic. For a moment, Scarlet thought about carrying on regardless, and it seemed as if the thought crossed Nina’s mind too. However, seemingly sensing it was over, Monique applauded enthusiastically from the window, cheering for Nina. Unimpressed, Bob turned and left. Monet didn’t go anywhere. She was still rooted to the spot looking at Nina, her face beetroot red. Taking her chance, Nina yelled up at her.
“Monet, I’m so so fucking sorry!” she began, and Scarlet’s heart instantly broke. “This has been the hardest week for me in a long, long time and…fuck, I only broke up with you because I thought you were going to break up with me but I just instantly regretted it because you’re pretty much the best thing to happen to me and…God, I’m just an idiot.”
“Shit, Nina,” Monet replied, her voice a little faint at speaking pitch. She said something that neither Nina or Scarlet could make out.
“What?”
Monet rolled her eyes, amused. Yelling down, she clarified. “I said I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend! You tit!”
Nina’s face dropped in surprise, revealing what Scarlet had managed to keep secret this whole time. She was so glad she’d got to find out from Monet herself and not her or Vanjie or anyone else in their friend group. Just her and Monet. How it should be. How it should have been.
“Oh my God! Monet! I’m a fucking dick!”
“Yeah, you are,” Monet laughed, pausing and leaning her head on her hands as she continued. “So uh…you love me, is that what this is?”
Nina’s eyes awkwardly flickered to Monique. She shrugged. “Don’t stop on my account, this shit’s cute! It’s like Eastenders.”
“Piss off, Monique!” Monet snapped, shoving her out of view. Scarlet shifted from one foot to the next.
“Do you want me to go?” she offered Nina. Nina’s face instantly turned concerned.
“Oh, God no! She’s not forgiven me yet,” she whispered to her, Scarlet nodding understandingly and stepping back. Turning back to the window, Nina shrugged a little and smiled. “Fuck it, I do love you, Monet. At least, I think I do, I’ve never been in love before to figure it out. But if you give me a chance, I’ll try my best to figure it all out with you. I’m so fucking sorry, I…there’s no excuse for it. Maybe people do stupid shit when they’re in love.”
Scarlet watched as Monet’s face broke out into a smile. Nina gazed up at her hopefully. “Can you, uh. Can you forgive me?”
“Well, I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I guess if you come up here…” a smirk slowly spread across Monet’s face, all at once seeming much more like the fun, flirty girl Scarlet knew her as. “…I might let you persuade me."
Nina’s face immediately turned completely pink as if someone had flipped a switch, and Scarlet looked up with surprise as muffled cheering came from the window adjacent to Monet’s. Looking up she found Monique watching the entire exchange from her own bedroom window completely unashamedly. Scarlet was distracted, though, by Nina suddenly wrapping her in a hug. Pulling away, she was beaming from ear to ear.
“Thanks so much, Scarlet. I don’t think I could have done any of this without you.”
Heart warmed, Scarlet batted a hand at her. “Hey, any of us would’ve come with you!”
“No, I needed you. Yvie would’ve told me the whole thing was a stupid idea, Brooke would’ve just moped around like she’s been doing for days on end. You’re the next reasonable choice,” Nina smiled gratefully, then took a quick look up at Monet’s window and bit her lip. “Fuck, do you think she’ll actually forgive me or-”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Nina, she’s so obviously about to bang your brains out!!” Scarlet cried exasperatedly, laughing at Nina’s instant blush.
“No, of course. You’re right. Fuck, shit, I should’ve worn nicer underwear. Am I even wearing a bra?”
“Just go-” Scarlet gently pushed Nina into the stairwell. “- and get your damn girlfriend back!”
“Right. Yes. Okay,” Nina babbled, turning and walking up the stairwell. Scarlet waited a second before she shouted at her.
“Speakers!”
“Speakers, yes, right,” Nina’s voice came from inside the building, the girl re-emerging from the stairwell, taking the speakers that she’d forgotten off the ground and scuttling inside again. Laughing, Scarlet grinned. She couldn’t wait to tell the girls about it all. Opening the group chat, she paused. Perhaps this was one Nina could do on her own.
Checking the time, Scarlet saw it was half twelve. She had said she’d head round to Yvie’s at one, but she was sure she wouldn’t mind if Scarlet was a bit early. Deciding to start walking, Scarlet began making her way to what was essentially her second home in the city now. It wasn’t a long walk, and Scarlet liked a wander at this time of year anyway. It was beginning to properly look like Springtime now, all the little bulbs poking out of the grass in the park and the air even smelling that little bit more sunshiney. Scarlet knew that didn’t make sense to anyone but her, but it made her happier knowing that better weather was on its way.    
Within ten minutes she was at Yvie’s door and pressing the buzzer. Scarlet stood for a moment and waited, which wasn’t usual. Brooke had once described Yvie reacting to the buzzer as racing to the door like an excited puppy, clamouring to let Scarlet in. Remembering the weird phone call, Scarlet felt a knot appear in her stomach. She buzzed again, waited again. Then there came a crackle.
“Hello?”
Scarlet recognised Yvie’s voice instantly. “Hey, it’s me! I’m a little bit early-”
“No, no, it’s fine- come up.”
The buzzer went, and Scarlet clicked open the door. She felt a little uneasy as she took the steps two at a time up to Yvie’s top floor flat. As she walked in through the door, Yvie was there to greet her.
“Hey, baby,” she smiled brightly, Scarlet not missing the way her eyes darted back inside just before she kissed her. “Happy birthday! How are you?”
“Uh, good, yeah. I’m good. Had a pretty weird day,” Scarlet admitted, watching as Yvie’s eyes darted back inside. This time, Scarlet followed her gaze.
“Is, uh. Is Nina not with you?” Yvie frowned, seeming worried as Scarlet entered the hallway.
“Nina? No, why would Nina be with me?” Scarlet frowned, taking off her jacket, folding it in half and crossing her arms. Yvie ran a hand through her hair.
“I just thought you two were hanging out- you said you’d phone her-”
Suddenly, there came what sounded like a giggle from the kitchen. Scarlet put two and two together and got a thousand.
“Yvie,” she began, her tone dark and her stomach churning. “Who’s in the kitchen?”
“What? Nobody. Nobody’s in,” Yvie frowned, her eyes darting to the kitchen door once more.
Scarlet paused for a moment. This was all wrong. Her mind was going too fast for her to catch up with. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Are you cheating on me?”
At once, she regretted the question as Yvie’s face dropped. “What?!”
“Are you cheating on me? Hiding your screen, shutting your laptop, being weird with me…it all adds up, fuck, Yvie, is she here? Is she here now?” Scarlet reeled off, feeling herself grow more and more frustrated. In a minute she would start with the angry tears but fuck, she couldn’t give Yvie the satisfaction of crying in front of her. How the fuck could she do this?
Yvie actually started laughing. “Is that what you think? Oh my God, Scarlet, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Confused, Scarlet fought the urge to push her girlfriend away as Yvie stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight cuddle. “I would never, ever, ever do something like that to you, okay? Let’s get that right from the start. You will never have to worry about that with me. Okay? Jesus Christ, I love you so much. You’re so dumb.”
“So you’ve not cheated?” Scarlet muttered quietly against Yvie’s chest. Her blood was still racing in her veins despite Yvie’s words calming her mind down. She felt Yvie pulling away and stepping back.
“Scarlet,” Yvie said simply, walking to the door. “What day is it today?”
“…my birthday?” Scarlet said blankly, watching as her girlfriend put her hand on the door handle.
“Exactly. So when it’s your girlfriend’s birthday, her twenty-first birthday, I should add, what do you do?”
Scarlet felt as if she was watching a murder mystery and couldn’t tie everything together. “You make dinner for them and spend time with them?”
“No…” Yvie laughed a little, turning the handle and cracking the door open a tiny bit. “You make sure she’s out of the house for the day and-”
As Yvie threw the door open, Scarlet almost got the fright of her life as the room was filled with screaming, confetti and party poppers. Blinking and trying to get over her shock, she could see Vanjie, Akeria, Silky, Brooke and Plastique, and they were all running to hug her. Finally, it sank in what was going on.
“Oh my God…you guys…this is a surprise birthday party?!” she squealed, the rollercoaster of emotions she’d been put through in the past five minutes causing tears to spring to her eyes. Akeria, who had found herself in the middle of the hug, laughed and gave her a shake.
“Not just any surprise birthday party! Your fuckin’ surprise twenty-first birthday party!!” she all but yelled into Scarlet’s ear, giving her an extra tight squeeze. As the girls pulled away from her, Scarlet frantically took in her surroundings. There was confetti all over the floor and pink balloons hanging from every possible place they could hang from. Across the wall above the kitchen cupboards, there was a very obviously homemade banner that said “HAPPY 21ST SCARLET WE LOVE U”, and on the kitchen table there were cakes, a selection of all the best beige-coloured party food, and a massive bowl of punch which, if Silky had had any hand in creating, would be absolutely lethal.
“What…but I still don’t get all of this!” Scarlet laughed in delight, feeling Yvie wrap her in a hug from behind. Doubling over laughing, she pointed to her girlfriend. “I just asked her if she was cheating on me!!”
The room exploded with laughter. Three of the girls started speaking at the same time, then one voice began to dominate.
“You seriously believed we weren’t gonna do stuff for your birthday just because it’s a Sunday?!” Vanjie screeched in disbelief. “Fuck outta here! It’s your 21st, bitch, of course we had to do somethin’!!”  
“Yvie messaged us all about two weeks ago making sure we were all free,” Plastique explained, smiling. “And we’ve been planning what to do ever since. If we’d known she’d be that bad at not acting suspicious we’d have organised it all without her.”
“So wait…did you even have an essay to hand in this morning?” Scarlet wondered, turning to her girlfriend. Yvie laughed.
“Nope. It was all LIES, Scarlet, lies! I was to make sure you didn’t stay over so we could make things and set stuff up all morning. And Nina was supposed to hang out with you and bring you back to the flat when we were ready. Which, by the way, where is Nina?”
“She’s, uh. It’s a long story,” Scarlet rubbed her forehead, too exhausted to even get into it. “I’ll let her tell you when she gets here. At least, I’m assuming she’ll be coming.”
“She better had, bitch, it’s your twenty-first!” Silky yelled indignantly. Scarlet wanted to say that the girl would’ve had a pretty good excuse to miss things, but she held her tongue. Still intrigued, she cast her eyes around the room again.
“So, wait, what’s the actual plan for today?”
“Movie afternoon here with all the food. Drinking Silk’s punch and getting day drunk,” Brooke explained with a smile before being cut off by Vanessa.
“Hey, I helped make that punch, gimme credit, bitch!” she flipped her hair, a little twinkle of something in her eye that intrigued Scarlet. Brooke seemed nonplussed and just smirked.
“Fuck, well. That’s even more reason to stay away from it, it’s probably just vodka and food colouring.”
As the other girls laughed, Vanessa leaned over and gave Brooke a small shove in the ribs. Scarlet exchanged quick eye contact with Yvie, and the look her girlfriend gave her seemed to say that there was more she’d be told later.
“Once we finish the movie then we’re gonna do MarioKart or Mario Party, then get ready and go out. Fuck a degree if we can’t have a life,” Akeria explained further. Scarlet felt like crying again. This was the feeling of running downstairs at 9 years old, of her presents in the kitchen and the people she loved happy and excited for her. These girls were truly her second family.
“Fuck, thank you guys. I love you so much,” Scarlet whispered, not trusting herself to speak unless her voice cracked. The girls all fussed over her and went in for a second hug, only pulling away when Silky cried out that it was punch time.
“What’re we watching, babe?” Yvie called over from the punch bowl, as Scarlet sat herself on her and Yvie’s favourite chair and the other girls began getting themselves comfy. Scarlet quickly forgot about what Yvie had asked, however, as she noticed something- Vanessa, Akeria and Silky all sitting on the sofa, but Vanessa positioning herself at the edge next to the other armchair. Brooke was sitting in it, and the two girls were actually talking. Not just talking. Smiling. Bickering playfully about fuck-knows-what.
“Scarlet!” Plastique suddenly shouted, causing her to yell in surprise. The other girls laughed. “Yvie said what’re we watching?”
“Uh, Princess Diaries, duh,” Scarlet rolled her eyes. As Yvie came back and grabbed the remote, she wordlessly tapped Scarlet’s phone. Picking up on the signal, Scarlet grabbed it and unlocked it.
Y: they’ve been like this all day btw
Y: arguing like an old married couple and flirting and shit
Y: wtf is going on
Scarlet’s brow furrowed as she read the messages. That was weird. Weird, weird, weird, and Scarlet didn’t know what to think. She was suddenly distracted by a notification from the group chat before she could speculate any further.
Kim Kardashian-West: I’m out of the doghouse and my depressive slump. Me and MY GIRLFRIEND will be with u all in an hour xoxoxoxoxoxo
As the news gradually reached the others in the room, it became filled with shouts and cries of excitement, disbelief and joy at Nina finally having fixed things with Monet.
“Wait, wait, wait a minute,” Plastique said urgently, turning round so quickly to look at Scarlet she was sure it would give her whiplash. “You were with her. What happened?”
Scarlet let out a laugh as she realised all the girls had their eyes on her like trained snipers. Who needed a movie when she could recount the great stairwell serenade she’d witnessed earlier?
“Buckle up, children,” Scarlet began, leaning on her knees. “It’s storytime.”
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thought-42 · 4 years
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Clone Wars fic Day Four
Sometimes the next day is two months later leave me alone. Today on the pointless modern au: Obi-Wan gets many visitors at work and handles it... poorly. Part One Part Two Part Three
Cody appears in the Starbucks ten minutes before Obi-Wan's shift ends.
"I'm giving you decaf," Obi-Wan tells him, watching the vein in his forehead pulse in fascination. His hands are shaking slightly.
"I'm driving you to the party," Cody says. "If anyone asks, you don't get off for another hour and wouldn't have been able to make it across town in time."
"Are you having a Day?"
The after-school rush has passed, and there's no one behind Cody in line, so Obi-Wan hands him his change then leans on the counter, hands clasped as he studies Cody. His coworker is nineteen and far more interested in sneaking glances at his phone than reporting Obi-Wan to their shift manager where she's unpacking deliveries in the back, so he's free to take as long a look as he likes.
"I'm fine," Cody says. "This is fine. Everyone here is absolutely fine."
"You have glitter in your hair."
"I also have dried lentils and blood in my hair," Cody says, alarmingly at peace with this state of affairs. "I took the day off to get everything ready for this party, I have no idea how this is still such a mess."
Obi-Wan makes a note to check him for concussion before he lets him drive him anywhere. "I'm sure Rex will appreciate all your work."
"He'd better," Cody says darkly.
"You only turn twenty-one once, I suppose."
"Somehow I don't remember my twenty-first birthday being that much work."
"Yes, well, it's all rather dependent on where you live, isn't it?" Obi-Wan does not actually remember his twenty-first birthday and he hadn't been in the States at the time, so he really hasn't got a leg to stand on. Cody doesn't need to know that.
"We need to pick up the cake on our way back," Cody says, tapping a finger on the counter. "Don't let me forget."
"I thought your dad was making it?"
Cody laughs and it's perhaps the most soulless thing Obi-Wan's heard in his life. "Me too."
Obi-Wan pats his hand lightly and slides down the counter. "I've changed my mind," he says. "You're getting herbal tea."
"This is harassment," Cody says, absently, tugging out his phone and frowning at whatever he sees. "Did you know Anakin is bringing his girlfriend?"
Obi-Wan huffs. "I don't even know that Anakin has a girlfriend, Cody. What could you possibly be talking about?"
"Do I want to know what that's about?"
"No," Obi-Wan says, cheerfully. His stomach does the sickening swoop that it's been doing every time he thinks about the fact that Anakin doesn't trust him with something as simple as his relationship status and he has no idea why.
"Hmm," says Cody. "It still feels vaguely uncomfortable that he's even coming."
"Boundaries are institutionalized artificial constructs that prevent the formation of strong community," Obi-Wan says, lightly.
"That... sounds ethically and emotionally questionable," Cody says flatly.
"You say this like Kix won't be there."
Cody looks vaguely horrified. "Will he be?"
Obi-Wan shakes his head gently. "Sit down. Drink your tea. Does your head hurt?"
"It's not my blood," cody says, like that's not the most worrying sentence Obi-Wan has heard all week. He decides the world will not end if he finishes his shift a few minutes early just this once.
He's hung up his apron, washed his hands, and is just putting on his coat when Qui-Gon fucking Jinn walks in the door, long wool coat at odds with his worn boots and faded tshirt. Never before has he visited Obi-Wan at work. Obi-Wan had not actually been certain he knows where he works until this precise moment.
Obi-Wan has had the benefit, for most of the time he's known Qui-Gon, of being able to ensure he's presenting a particular image whenever they interact. Be it forewarnings of his visits by group home staff, emails to organize a visit at uni, texts that provide dates and times for family dinners and holidays. There have been very few occasions when Qui-Gon has caught him unaware and ill-prepared. And most of those times he doesn't remember well due to illness or alcohol. Obi-Wan has been working for 20 hours with a half hour break spent on the bus to get between his two jobs, he smells like coffee grounds, he's kind of woozy because he's consumed nothing but tea all day, and his maybe sort of potential partner is in the midst of a silent stress breakdown with glitter and blood in his hair and wrath in his heart.
"Hello!" Qui-Gon calls, bright and friendly like he does this every day. "Good, I've caught you before you left." Seeing him standing in front of the pastry case just to the left of the table with the possibly Satanic graffitti is bad enough, but actually hearing his voice against the background of the generic singer-song-writer crooning (which has burrowed its way into Obi-Wan's ears and soul and will follow him to his grave) and the rumble of the espresso maker is so jarringly incongruous that Obi-Wan wonders for a minute if he's even awake.
"Oh good," Obi-Wan echoes weakly. Cody looks casually curious, blissfully oblivious for the moment.
"I was in the neighbourhood," Qui-Gon says, "and thought I'd treat you to dinner."
"I'm... quite alright," Obi-Wan says. "I've actually got plans, unfortunately."
"We have an hour," Cody says, helpfully. Obi-Wan isn't close enough to step on his foot, and Qui-Gon is watching too closely for him to communicate his panic rage with his expression.
Qui-Gon's attention snaps to Cody like a heat seeking missile. "I don't think we've met. I'm Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan's-- father."
He extends a hand and Cody shakes, looking mostly uncertain. Obi-Wan gets it, much as he doesn't want to. He hasn't been particularly complimentary of Qui-Gon when speaking to Cody, but there's still a reason he's remained attached to him for twenty years. His smile is kind and his handshake firm and with his long hair and laugh lines he comes across mostly as someone's hippy uncle or the strange old man in the back of a magical shop who vanishes as soon as the protagonist looks away.
"I'm Cody."
Obi-Wan is hardwired to cringe at the particular grin that breaks across Qui-Gon's face. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Anakin has told me about you."
"Well that's concerningly vague, thank you," Obi-Wan mutters under his breath.
Cody hums noncommittally. Qui-Gon says "You're taking Obi-Wan out tonight, are you? I'm glad, he'll vanish into his books for weeks on end if you let him."
Obi-Wan is thirty-three goddamn years old and this man who could never even be bothered to adopt him still speaks about him like he's a child. And there's nothing malicious behind it, which is perhaps the worst part. Qui-Gon is teasing out of affection and is probably legitimately concerned about obi-Wan's social life. Obi-Wan wishes desperately that Cody was not seeing him like this, is quite suddenly hyper-aware of his own body and his expression and any words that might come out of his mouth. He feels awkward in his own skin and painfully aware of how Cody might interpret anything he does, as if with Qui-Gon's presence he has been thrust on stage for a role he doesn't know and for which he is lacking a script.
"My brother's birthday party," Cody says. "I have a big family, so birthdays are always... an event."
Qui-Gon nods. "Family is important."
Obi-Wan is going to drown himself in the coffee server.
"Well, if you do have that hour, you've got to let me take you both for a drink," Qui-Gon says. "I'm always happy to get to know Obi-Wan's friends, and especially knowing that Anakin thinks highly of you."
Cody glances over at Obi-Wan, eyebrows up, clearly waiting for him to take the lead. Obi-Wan's brain, unfortunately, continues to spin its wheels uselessly against an oil slick of embarrassment and anger and anxiety. And Cody, for whom familial support is a fundamental tenant of existence, who is courteous to a fault in the face of authority figures and not actually as quick on his feet in social situations as most people assume, does exactly what Obi-Wan should have known he'd do.
"That'd be great, thank you," he says, dooming them all. "We've got to pick up the cake by 6:30, but that does give us some time."
Obi-Wan lingers behind as they leave the store long enough to snap a photo of Cody and Qui-Gon existing in the same physical space, which he sends to Anakin with a long string of screaming emojis. Anakin replies immediately, of course.
'Thats adorable! i'm glad hes meeting the parents'
'Looking forward to meeting Padme tonight,' Obi-Wan responds, vindictively.
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I dont normally write personal type posts but this week, month, YEAR, is having me break that particular rule.
So, I decided to go back to uni and do a masters in January with the start date in September. Plenty of time to save money from the job I was in for paying the tuition fee. My job was contracted to end in September anyways so it was well timed as far as I was concerned att and finding work to cover bills would be fairly easy.
Anyway, Covid comes along.
By May, I'm reconsidering. My job was not gonna be extended so staying where I was was out. I was 250 miles away from anyone I have known longer than 6 months when Covid had started, lived alone and working from home sucked.
Originally, I had been accepted for a Masters in Modern History but was reconsidering had led me to realise that I would not get more employable skills skills doing this masters degree that I hadnt already gotten in my undergrad. I changed my application, reapplied and got into a Strategy studies and Management masters instead. Some business stuff to bolster my employability while also adding and making use of my knowledge and research skills gained in undergraduate.
Now the job situation. Between everything - rent, utilities, food, council tax and car, my total outgoings should be less than £600. Its fucking difficult to do get one job which offered hours and pay to cover that.
I have three. One 10 hour, one 4 hour and a 0 hour job.
I had been fine. My flatmate has been watching this for a while, waiting. Waiting for something to give.
It gave. Yesterday. Over a simple question that my dad asked me. And it came crashing down.
I wanted to sit somewhere with my dog and not do anything at all. Screw going to work that evening (even though I had technically done my 4 hours that week via taking paid holiday). Screw helping my mum out with the horses. Screw getting uni work done.
Screw everything.
I suppose what I'm getting at here is mental health is one of the biggest issues to date - pre-covid and now in covid times - yet noone takes it that seriously. I had a few minor breakdowns during lockdown. I was essentially isolated - the most in person interaction I got on a weekly basis was via my neighbours, if we happened to be outside at the same time or speaking to someone at the checkout. It took Boris Johnston and his cronies 3 months to allow single person households to form bubbles with other households. That should have been much higher on the list.
Additionally, part of this breakdown was caused my money worries, causing a lot of stress. The British government doesnt see students as people. We dont pay council tax and while we can work while in study, paying taxes, if something were to change, we dont qualify for unemployment benefits. Yet, the British government is happy to let us accrue debt like we're collecting pokemon cards which we'll never pay off, and then moan about why we aren't buying houses or higher taxable items.
In what world is working three part time jobs something anyone should have to do? All my jobs are about national living wage. Two are for the over 25 at £8.71 and the other is £8.20 (national living wage for 22-25). I wouldn't call that a "living" - people aged over 18 are still paying bills. Some may have already left home for whatever reason.
Feel free to add your own covid breakdowns or work related breakdowns to the thread. If anyone has mental health help links, also add those. You are not alone.
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say-lon-i · 5 years
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Eruriweek2019 Day 7: Timeloop
AO3 link.
Ginger and Honey
“You’re not going to ask why?” Erwin questions; he doesn’t sound angry or hurt, just mildly curious. It’s proof enough that it really, truly is over.
The first few times Levi did ask for an explanation. He’d yelled, he’d thrown things at the far wall out of frustration. It hadn’t changed a thing. It still happened. The day would still more or less go the same way. Erwin would hesitate in approaching the subject of moving out, would apologize innocently, would give him some time to cool off under the pretense of him being late for work. In the evening, if Levi hasn’t bothered to stalk the man into his workplace like some vengeful banshee or interfered in some other way, he would get the call.
He sits at the kitchen table now, takes another sip of his ginger honey tea. It tastes like hot, wet dirt. “You got a good enough answer for me?” He replies with a question of his own. It could be anything; ‘I fell out of love’, ‘I don’t like it that you meddle into my business’, ‘You’re a pushover, grow a spine’, ‘We don’t have enough kinky sex’, all of them perfectly good reasons in themselves. Erwin chooses to remain silent, even glances away. Levi shrugs. He knows. “Thought so.”
Erwin waits for a few minutes; he’s expecting the usual backlash. Levi is always easily incensed after all. When none comes, the man looks hesitant, thick brows pinched together, pushes the scrambled eggs around in his plate with his fork. He’s wearing the watch that Levi had gifted him on his thirtieth birthday. It goes well with his pale blue, crisply ironed shirt and his thinning gold hair.
“I think it would be for the best if I were to stay at a hotel until I find a new place. I’ll only be able to take whatever makes up for my immediate requirements. I can get the rest once my living arrangements are sorted out,” Erwin eventually says. Levi hasn’t made breakfast for himself because he’s known he’d lose his appetite over this exact conversation. He's already wasted perfectly good tea.
“Okay.” He nods, takes another sip. His hands or lips aren’t trembling like they used to. “I can call Gunther and he might be able to help out with the apartment hunting if you want.”
Erwin neither affirms nor says no. Instead, he sighs as if Levi is the one being unreasonable, he apologizes, and then he excuses himself because he’s getting late for work. Erwin by no means is a terrible liar, but they’ve been dating for a long, long time, for years, decades, and Levi isn’t easily fooled by his straight face and his curt manner. His half-eaten eggs morosely sit in the plate in abandonment.
Levi frowns and gets up to clean the table.
They’d met at a frat party in the first year of Uni. Erwin had been chugging beer straight out of a barrel and Levi had been the only one who’d bet on him finishing the whole thing without throwing up.
Erwin had thrown up. Then he’d insisted he give Levi a ride back to his student house before driving his secondhand Ford Fiesta into someone’s rose bushes. As Erwin had been trying to hatch a plan on how they’d apologize for the fuck up, Levi had taken advantage of their alcohol-addled minds and sucked faces with him until he himself had started feeling physically sick at the taste of vomit on the other’s tongue. They’d had sex a week later, and two weeks in, Erwin had asked him out on a date.
At exactly 5:21 pm Levi pulls his phone out of his pocket and waits. There’s a woman behind him waiting to get a chance at examining and comparing pancake mix prices, but he doesn’t mind her tutting.
At 5:22 pm his ringtone echoes around the aisle. It’s some cheesy pop song from some artist Isabel had dragged him to a concert of a couple of years back, though admittedly it hadn't been half bad if he can pretend to like noisy places. He receives the call.
“Levi,” comes Erwin’s uncharacteristically scratchy voice. Is the man on the verge of another breakdown? Is he crying? Did he contract a cold? Levi can never tell.
“Erwin?”
“I’m sorry.” A deep inhale. Levi can hear traffic in the backdrop, a honk, the steady thrum of Erwin’s Mercedes-Benz. He can imagine the wetness in Erwin’s pretty, blue eyes. “I’m so sorry. You don't deserve this. None of this is your fault. It’s not you, it’s me.”
Cliché. “I know.”
“You do, don't you? It’s always me. I don’t understand why.” Erwin sniffs. “I really don’t. We tried so hard, we made it work for five whole years this time despite… despite that. Despite me. We were doing so well, darling, it could have been so good, so why is it still like this?” A muffled thudding noise. Frustration. Erwin possibly hit something, and has now gone silent; Levi counts his breaths. He’s afraid he might start an avalanche if he talks out of turn. “I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after how it’d gone the last time,” Erwin continues eventually. “Do you remember that, Levi? I promised, didn’t I? And yet I just… I couldn’t anymore. I wish I could.”
Levi says nothing, only purses his lips. His throat feels tight even though he knows what is coming, where this is leading to.
“I wish I could give you everything you wanted, everything you deserved. I wish I could make you happy, Levi.”
“I know.”
“I cared for you more than anything in the world. You have to know that.”
Cared. “I know.”
A pause. “Are you not going to get angry like you did that time, darling?” Erwin still doesn’t sound angry; just defeated. His sniffling this time sounds a little wet. “Does it not matter to you what I’m doing? Do you not care?” Of course he does, but Levi doesn’t see the point in having to say something so obvious out loud. The way Erwin sounds is hurting both his ears and his heart. He thinks of hanging up, but can’t physically make himself stick to said thought. He’s the weaker one.
Someone honks loudly on the other end. Erwin swears under his breath, almost makes Levi chuckle; he’s cute even when he’s being all whiny and depressing, Levi thinks. The old lady averts her gaze and pretends to compare prices on the cereal boxes. Erwin sighs deeply.
“Where are you now?” He asks.
“At the supermarket. I'm almost done,” Levi replies. “Why?”
“I want to end things properly this time, Levi. You deserve closure. I owe it to you.” Erwin owed him nothing, in fact. Levi has been the one with the upper hand all this time. “I want us to talk. Can we?”
He’s pleading. Levi could tell him to not talk on the phone while he’s driving. He could tell him that they can talk later when he’s in a better mood, or that they don’t need to talk at all. He could tell Erwin to at least not take the usual route home, not to pass through Trost street, or to take a cab, or the bus so he doesn’t have to drive in this state. Levi knows how it ends. He’s looked into it and memorized it, lived through it several times. He knows where it goes horribly wrong before it ever becomes right. Erwin is his sun, the water to his parched throat. His smile makes Levi’s very existence worth something. Erwin is also impeccable at self-sabotage; this break up is imminent, final, and Levi dreads it with every fibre of his selfish being.
“Okay,” he says, his grip white-knuckled on the phone’s glass body. “We’ll talk. Come home. I’ll wait for you.”
Erwin takes a moment to respond. He sounds relieved, mildly pleased even, probably wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Levi is sure he’s holding the phone close, cradling it as if it’s the most precious, because Levi is doing the same. “Thank you, darling. I’ll see you soon,” Erwin murmurs.
“Okay,” Levi repeats. Erwin is being unfair, and Levi is bad at phone calls, but he’s in so, so deep. “And Erwin? I love you.”
He can almost hear the smile in the man’s voice as Erwin says it back. Then Erwin tells him to drive home safely: Levi doesn’t echo the sentiment.
He’s informed about the accident at 6:03 pm. A kind passerby who’s helped out with the ambulance and impromptu hospital visit calls him from Erwin’s phone, says his was the most recent number in the call log. Levi, despite the past times, still feels dread curling its icy fingers around his heart. By the time he reaches the hospital, it’s already too late. They let him take one last look at that handsome face; there’s a deep gash across one cheek, hints of glass shards being pulled out of the flesh. The doctors say they tried their best, that the blood loss was too much, that some parts hadn’t been where they were supposed to be. The dread slowly ebbs away and gives way to apathy.
He nods, he pays, he thanks the hospital staff for trying or at least pretending to care. A nurse or two are crying outside the room for a complete stranger. Levi doesn’t shed a tear.
Come tomorrow, he’ll be watching Erwin chug beer straight out of a barrel. Come tomorrow, they’ll drive his shitty, old car into someone’s garden and then make out to kingdom come. Come tomorrow, He’ll live another lifetime by Erwin’s side, trying and failing to keep him, and then trying some more anyway. He’s a fool. Erwin exists in a state that’s impossible for him to achieve. Levi will wake up the next morning and see his closely cropped gold hair, gaze into his blue eyes, trace his bile covered lips with a finger and fall for him even deeper.
Levi isn’t sure what triggers it; sometimes he wakes up weeks before the frat party. Other times he has already had a one night stand with Erwin. Once he’d had to wait almost a year and fret over not making the same choices and missing out on his chance of attending the frat party at all. It’s unreliable and shady, how it works, why it happens, but Levi is grateful all the same.
He goes home and pretends to be in mourning to avoid further hassle, to avoid selecting caskets and informing friends and family of his boyfriend’s demise. Dinner that evening is uneventful; Erwin had never been a big fan of pasta, but he’s in no position to complain right now, is he?
The ginger and honey is heavy on his tongue when Levi reclines back in bed and shuts his eyes.
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softboyuris · 5 years
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Love of My Life
Roger Taylor x Reader
3.6k+ words
A/N: this is my first fic for Queen and also just in a while, I haven’t written something for fun in a while so there’s that. This is inspired by this post and @blushmis fic of the same name (they were the anon) so go check their story out 
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He promised he’d call after the show but that didn’t stop your anxiety from getting the best of you sitting by the phone, leg bouncing up and down. It’s a different time zone. You never really know when the show will be over. He promised. 
Roger and you had been together the better part of three years. You had been Brian’s neighbor for most of your life and he treated you like his little sister so when he went off to university with you two years behind him, you missed him dearly but were relieved to have space. Now you could be the rebellious teen you’d always tried to be but failed cause Brian was always by your side, keeping you out of trouble.
You packed a lot into those two short years. To your surprise, Brian was actually proud of you. Or at least that’s what you thought until he practically forced you to attend the same uni as him. Which you didn’t mind. Brian had become a changed man in college, joining a band, staying out late and going to parties after his gigs.
Your first day was great only because you finally got to see Smile, Brian’s band, perform. Although you weren’t too fond of the drummer when you first met, something between then and now made you fall for him.
As soon as Freddie joined the band, you knew they would be a success. With Freddie’s vocal range and drive and the bands' raw talent and songwriting skills, there was no way they wouldn’t hit the charts one day.
Roger became the infamous playboy, much to your dismay. You hadn’t told anyone of your feelings for the drummer but you always had a sneaking suspicion Brian knew.
After weeks of meaningless bathroom hookups after gigs, hanging off each other at the afterparties and kisses that didn’t even mean much, Roger stopped hooking up with other girls. You two never actually made it official. It was just an unspoken thing that you were his and he was yours. 
Now they were on tour for A Night At The Opera which you sadly were not able to come on due to finances. Rog promised that he would call every Monday night, even if they had a gig and he hadn’t missed one yet, no matter how late in the night it was that he called, you were there to answer.
You missed him more than words could express and could barely wait for him to get home in the following month.
But no matter how much you missed him and trusted him, you couldn’t help but think about all the girls that throw themselves at him during shows and at the afterparties. You had more trust in him than anyone else but there was always going to be a part of your mind that wandered to those thoughts.
Sitting, anxiety bubbling in your stomach, the thoughts get the best of you. What if he was- is cheating? You would never know. He’s a good enough liar although you know he would never want to lie to you. He would be honest and break and beg for your forgiveness.
He hasn’t cheated before so it’s not like you have good reason to think he will. He knows your past and knows that’s something unforgivable in your eyes. And you love the idiot so what are you suppose to do. It’s just, this is the first time you haven’t been by his side during a tour or recording session. You’ve always been there.
When the phone rings you’re not expecting it. Your heart is racing when you pick up the phone, whether from nerves or excitement you don’t know.
There’s lots of noise on the other end. He’s definitely at an afterparty. “Y/N?” Knowing it’s you, he doesn’t wait for a response. “I’m sorry I’m calling so late, I got swept up. It was such a fantastic show.”
“Rog, I can’t-” You were cut off by Roger relaying the same thing you were about to say to him to you before saying he’d call back in a second, “just let me find someplace quieter.”
You place the phone down with a shake in your hands. You know it will be easier for the both of you if you’re out of the picture, at least while they’re on tour. He’s at an afterparty, of course, there will be girls there, but hearing them yell Roger’s name in the background of the call made your stomach churn with jealousy.
You’re phone rings again but this time you’re expecting it, letting it ring through a couple of times before picking up. It’s much quieter on the other end this time.
“Sorry, it was so loud. I couldn’t hear a thing.” Roger’s soft voice comes through the receiver and you have to swallow back the tears closing up your throat. 
“Look, Roger-”
“I miss you. Sorry for interrupting, I know how much you hate when I do that but I really miss you.” You can hear his sad smile through his words, making what you need to say ten times harder.
“I miss you too. But, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I think it’s best if I stay out of your way.” You can hear Roger start to protest but you cut him off. “It hurts to be apart from you for so long and not having any idea what you’re getting up to. I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t- I can’t be that girl that’s waiting at home for you. I love you. I am sorry. I just think we’ll both be better off this way.” 
You hang up before he can answer, sinking further down into your bed. You don’t bother wiping away the tears, letting them fall as they will while you focus on trying to breathe.
He calls the next morning. And the morning after that. For a week, he calls every morning. You never answer but you know it’s him. You have to keep telling yourself you made the right choice. Now he can do what he wants without being held back by the girl at home.
Nearly half a year later and you haven’t spoken to the band in just about the same amount of time. Brian calls occasionally but you rarely have the heart to answer. As does Freddie, whom you find is easier to talk to. He never brings it up, acts like nothing has happened although he never mentions Roger. But even still, your chats are short and sweet, little updates here and there.
Queen, as a promotion for A Day At The Races, is holding a small concert that is going to be broadcasted. Your friends, being major Queen fans, are throwing a little viewing party. You didn’t want to go but you support the band no matter what’s happened. 
You’re currently sitting beside one of your closest friends, Margaret. Everyone’s been walking on eggshells around you except for her. It’s like the whole party thinks you’ll hear the beginning riff to one of Queen’s songs and have a breakdown. But Killer Queen is playing lightly in the background and it’s having no effect on you. At least that’s what you’re telling people.
The thought of seeing Roger, even if he is hundreds of miles away and on a screen, has got your stomach in knots. About a month after you broke up with him, you started hearing rumours about girls who were successfully throwing themselves at him. You weren’t sure if there was any validity to such statements but a part of you believed them.
“Hey, it’s starting!” Someone whose voice you don’t recognize shouts from the other end of the apartment. Margaret rolls her eyes but only you notice. She’s the one who thought to throw this party and almost instantly regretted it, not being a social person.
Everything runs nice and smooth. They perform wonderfully, no shock there. Freddie has just as much spunk in him as he did when you first met him when he was living in the same flat as Roger.
You hadn’t realized how much you missed them, all of them, and their music. and then the lights started dimming, putting a spotlight on Fred and Brian who started strumming a simple melody on his guitar. You instantly knew what song was about to play and your stomach pinched.
Love of My Life was one of your favorite Queen songs. It was the first song you had heard off of the album after Roger insisted on singing it to you in bed one night. Memories you had suppressed and tried to get rid of came back.
You make it through the rest of the performance but leave shortly after. All you want to do when you get home is collapse face down on your bed and cry. But there’s another thing coming for you when you walk into your flat to your phone ringing, on the last line you suppose.
Forgetting the possibility that it could be Roger, you frantically cross the space of your flat, grasping for your phone from across the counter, “Hello?”
“Oh darling, you answered. It’s been ages.” Freddie’s familiar voice rings in your ears and you find yourself frowning a bit.
“Fred. Yeah, I guess it has been a while.” You force a smile onto your face, sensing that he can tell your upset although you don’t know why. “I saw the show. You guys did wonderfully, as always.”
You can tell Freddie is smiling when he answers, “Why thank you. I do think we did exceptionally well tonight.”
“The rendition of Love Of My Life did get me. You have such a powerful voice.” The words slip from your lips without you noticing. You have no clue why you’ve just told Fred this but you have a sneaking suspicion he does.
“It’s weird. For once, when I sang that tonight it wasn’t for Mary or some lover. It was for you.” Freddie doesn’t have to elaborate for you to understand what he means. “He’s been in a mood since you left him. It’s hard to get him up on stage sometimes dear.”
“I really fucked him up, didn’t I?” You think back to when Freddie was performing tonight. You could vaguely see Roger in the background, taking a rest from playing the drums. He had his eyes closed. You can’t help but think of how many times you’ve cried over him, wondering if it’s the same for him. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Do you not trust him?” Freddie’s question throws you.
“Of course I trust him. I trust him more than anything else in this world. I just figured it would be easier if I wasn’t there, you know?” You’re nibbling on your lip trying to keep the tears at bay.
“He never cheated. Brian would have literally beat his ass. There would be little of Queen left if he had. Obviously, there were girls all over him at the parties but he never went home with any of them. He only had eyes for you darling. Only has eyes for you.” There’s a moment of silence that seems to stretch on forever. Freddie doesn’t say anything even though you’re sure he can hear your sniffles.
“I love him.”
“He loves you.” The words come from Fred’s mouth almost as soon as you’ve finished saying your own and you have to pause to breathe.
“But Fred, I’ve been cheated on before. Every guy I’ve dated has cheated. And Rog.. well Roger’s built to cheat, he’s got the reputation to back him up.” You know it’s not a good argument. Whatever you say won’t be good enough because you know Roger was one of the best things to ever happen to you and you blew it.
“You didn’t blow it, sweetheart. He still loves you, don’t think he’ll ever stop. It’s bloody annoying really. Won’t get out of his stupid funk.” Another beat of silence and you know he’s right but he doesn’t give you time to agree. “We’re doing some finishing touches on our album tomorrow. You should come down. Mary’ll be there and the boys would love to see you after all this time.”
“We’ll see Freddie.” Is all you say back before goodnights are exchanged. If you weren’t mistaken, you could hear Freddie telling Roger something about you as you hung up the phone.
You do show up. Of course, you do. When the Freddie Mercury, your beloved friend, asks you to come watch them record you come. There is no saying no even if you want to postpone this confrontation as much as possible.
You’re laughing at something Mary has said when you bump into someone passing through the doorframe. You snap your head around uttering an apology but stopping in your tracks.
Roger looks at you, expression ranging from angry to happy to sad in a matter of seconds. And then he’s turning around. Huffing his way over to his drum kit which he starts tweaking immediately. Probably more as a distraction than anything else.
“Darling, you came!” Freddie beams, throwing his arms around you. He gives you a quick hug and peck on the cheek before taking Mary’s hand and pulling her into the other room.
When you turn around Brian and John are walking up to you. You smile brightly at Brian, engulfing him in a bear hug, and giving John a tight squeeze before leaning back to look at the two of them. “It’s been a while.”
“Feels longer than only a few months,” Brian says.
“We’ve missed you.” John chimes, giving a bright smile.
“All of us,” Brian says noticing your gaze wondering in between them to the drummer behind them, making his hands busy with his drums. You look up with a half smile and sad eyes. “He’s been in a mood.”
“Fred told me.” You sigh. “But that doesn’t mean he misses me.” You cross your arms over your chest.
Brian gives you an all-knowing look. “We’ll give you two some space,” John says, ushering Brian out the door. You start to protest but the door is shut in your face before you can get the first word out.
You slowly turn around on the balls of your feet, biting your lip, not realizing how hard, and wincing as a result. Roger looks up from his drums for a split second. Your eyes are trained on the ground. “I would say I’m sorry but,”
“You’re not?” Roger finishes in question. He’s moved around to the back of his drums, standing in front of the stool and looking at you accusingly. Although you can see the sadness in his eyes.
“No. Because sorry isn’t good enough. Saying I messed up and breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life isn’t something you’d accept.” You hadn’t realized you were getting choked up until you felt a tear fall down your cheek. 
“But it’s true. I fucked up. I fucked you up. I made the biggest mistake of my life breaking up with you and I am sorry. Really truly sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did.” You look up to see Roger’s features have softened. “You hurt me. You broke my heart. And yet I still love you. How fucked up is that? I know you broke up with me because you thought it would be easier but it’s the exact opposite. I thought you trusted me.” His voice is getting louder and firmer and his last statement hurts your heart. He knows how much you value honesty and trust in a relationship.
You’ve moved towards him, halfway to his drum kit. Your hands involuntarily reach out for his which is why you stopped far enough away that you can’t touch him. “I do, Rog. I trust you more than anything else in the universe. But not knowing, it got the best of me.”
“I would never cheat on you. Never.” The finality of his statement makes you want to close the distance between you two and hug him like it’s the last time you’d ever get to.
“I know.” Your voice is small and frail and your trembling, which you hadn’t noticed before. “Trust me, I know. Just- fuck. I love you so god damn much and not being able to see you every day was tearing me apart. And with my past, although it’s no excuse-”
You hadn’t realized that Roger had moved around his drum kit and was now standing in front of you. “It’s no excuse but it’s still valid as a reason.” You didn’t have the heart to look him in the eyes, opting to stare at the intricate pattern of the carpet.
Roger made it hard for you not to look at him when he got down on his knees, looking up at you. When your eyes locked, you could see all the love he still had for you mixed with pain in his eyes. “I love. I always will. And I know you haven’t forgiven me yet,”
“forgiven you?”
Roger shushes you, reaching into his pocket. You choke as he brings the box into your eye line. “You haven’t forgiven me yet but I forgive you even though I don’t think you were wrong for what you did. I never cheated. I would and will never cheat on you but I understand fully why you’d think I would. I was going to do this after the tour ended but naturally, I couldn’t. And I’ve got nothing to lose.
“Y/N, I love you so much more than I can probably express in words but I’ll try. I love how you laugh and cry and smile and get angry and jealous. I love how your history is a part of you but not who you are. I love that you don’t take anyone's shit and you stand up for what you believe in even if the world isn’t listening. I love that you love me despite my petty tantrums and outbursts. I love how you are always there for me and somehow predict what I’m going to do next better than I do.
« I love how easily we work together and how smooth things have been for us. Even through the fights, we know we are bigger than them and get through it. I love how you tug on my hair in bed and how easy you are after gigs,” you glare at him for that one but it’s with a smile.
“I love how easy it is to love you. And I want that, well forever if you’ll have me. So please, even though it’s cheesy, make me the happiest man in Queen and marry me Y/N.”
Somewhere in his speech, he opened the box. You weren’t paying attention, too lost in his words to notice. But it’s a small little diamond, nothing extra or big. It’s exactly what you had described as the perfect ring to Roger nearly eight years ago when you first met and he said he was gonna marry you someday.
Before you’re even nodding yes, Roger is taking the ring out of the box, and slipping it on your ring finger. “Of fucking course, I’ll marry you, Rog.”
Your smile is one that cannot be concealed even when he leans in to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you ridiculously close to him. But you smile into the kiss anyway. One which turns heated very quickly. In both your defenses, you haven’t seen each other in over a year with him having been on tour before everything happened. 
You’re laying on the scratchy carpet behind the drums, a sweaty, shirtless Roger collapsed on top of you when there’s a knock at the door.
“I don’t know if it’s make-up or break-up sex but we only have the studio for a certain amount of time,” John shouts through the door at the two of you.
“Oh let the lovers be.” You can hear Freddie retort followed by Mary’s laugh.
Roger is quick to help you dress, not worrying about buttoning up his shirt as John manages to get the door open. “It was never locked buddy,” Roger says as John staggers in, not expecting the door to open.
He gives Roger a baffled look as Brian eyes the two of you and Freddie smirks. “Looks like Rog is in a better mood.”
“Oh fuck off Freddie.” He scoffs, fixing his hair which looks disheveled thanks to you. You give him a smirk as you make your way over to Mary, taking her hand and leading her into the room over.
“So...” Mary inquires as she sits down beside you on the sofa. You pour yourself some water, offering her some as well which she gladly accepts.
“So what?” You return, taking a sip of your water. Mary’s eyes go wide, almost dropping her cup. “What?” She carefully puts hers and your drink down before grabbing for your left hand.
“What is this?” She asks, examining the ring.
“What do you think it is?” You can’t help but smile.
Mary looks up at you, not dropping your hand before looking to Roger in the studio who gives you a wink. “I can’t believe it. The bastard finally did it.” She looks back over to you, matching the smirk on your face. “Looks like he loves something more than his car.” 
“Finally.”
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amandastudy · 5 years
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Day 5 - 100 days of productivity
Tuesday, 27/8-19. A long day.
Woke up at 6 after 7-ish hours of sleep, got myself ready and got on a train at 6.56, arrived in Jönköping 8.30-ish. Ate breakfast and read a couple chapters about the history of masscommunication on the train. Walked to the uni library and studied there for 2 hours. Took a half hour break, changed scenery from the library to a café, checked my work mail and skimmed through the final chapters of my course book. Ate lunch and chatted with a friend outside, went with her and studied in the library for another 1,5 h making revision notes from a lecture. Had a lecture from 15.00 to 17.00. Got some food and read (not uni related) while waiting for the train. Arrived back home at 20.00 due to a train delay (was supposed to come home 19.30), had a minor “I´m too tired” emotional breakdown, ate dinner and felt better. Now shower and bed.
About emotional breakdowns and frustration: it´s okay if you have them and you are no less of a student/productive person/boss bitch because of it. In my case I´m not used to travelling this much and having so much people and noise around me all day and it´s just been a lot this week. But I´m hoping I´ll get into the groove of things eventually. And that´s all you can do sometimes - hope you do a little better tomorrow.
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fly-sky-high-09 · 5 years
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shifty weather, shifty mood. Just trying to vent so no worries~ have Isabella as a dragon cuz I’m proud of how she looks (and cuz I dun have cat pics on pc)
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Flameio, binch!
Boi... I’ll eventually start going to the therapist if this isn’t handled by the time I start getting enough money to pay for proper number of sessions. For now, I gotta resolve to typing shit out because I can’t properly talk to friends or family about this. I’ve tried, no worries. It’s basically me who’s being the problem.
I know I said I’ll find a core of the issue and when I think I did (stressed at classes in school because I held high expectations for myself as well as plans that I never got around to do), something else equally stressful crosses my mind. And then another, and another.... it’s kind of an endless loop. I mean, I guess I won’t be surprised if it’s all connected.
Regarding classes, I’m mostly being a giant baby about but having to force myself to work at home to catch up with stuff we do in school cuz I’m slow or lack the memory capacity or attention span to follow through or actually get to do something idk, it puts me down and having to repeat that at home (albeit with more security because I can pause videos of tutorials) feels like someone is forcing me to run through flames. It’s not THAT bad, my realistic side makes sure I know this but it FEELS awful. I apparently have the ability to complain about it to no end and I might be putting too much blame on how the class is put together but the fact that everyone does this at home and can catch up just shows I’m being a whiny bitch. I’ve sent and watched tutorials and followed through some of them but still feel like 0 progress is made in my head. I end up thinking “this isn’t for me, I’m not cut out for this, it’s probably not going to be my field of work” but I DO want to learn it. I just... ended up disliking the program a little too soon. And now I can’t bring myself to work. I question IF I truly want to work with this because... I don’t know any more. And not knowing results in me not doing anything or just a bit of nothing and something but incomplete.
And I suppose this kind of connects to my questions about... what the hell am I even doing and what is the actual point. I really started underestimating myself which I haven’t done in a very long time. I keep thinking how I am not cut out for something, how my ways of doing things are probably bad even if especially makes me feel content but because I’m not working out of the comfort zone I end up feeling guilty as fuck about everything I do and suddenly the fun stuff I want to do and make out of work is considered pointless in my head. Lately, I just feel like everything I do is bad in some way. The reason I don’t linger on it is my logic but then emotion starts throwing a tantrum in and suddenly I feel like the smallest things will make me cry, yell, be angry or frustrated and now for past two days kind of anxious. Like I realize that’s the result of pent up emotions that need to set freeeeee but haha it’s like the fucking bottle cap is stuck and I’m not strong enough to open it even if the fizzy shit inside is about to explode.
I had an absolute breakdown about my physical look about a week ago and that was not fun at all. I genuinely understand that I can’t change my dna like some kind of Ditto and morph into what ever fits my idea of healthy or happy for my own thoughts... but ended up with so much pent up emotional negativity I manifested it all through the fact that I consider myself ugly in every aspect... while actually it’s honestly one of the minor issues that just makes me frustrated only from time to time but goes away. I made it such a big deal to the point where I was asked by mom  “where does it all come from” and I only answered “I don’t know” which made me break into tears and hide away in the bathroom, especially meaning I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Been trying to understand it since and I only realized it’s just several things looping into the issues in my head like crazy. What I can’t get a grip on is why it’s being so... much...? Why is it so BAD, why THIS much negativity, WHERE did it come from, I can’t even allow myself to say I feel much worse than when mom was at the hospital two years ago even if it’s true but EVERYTHING around me is more or less fine... I’m making progress in life, I don’t know about art any more because my motivation for it is almost completely gone (but I have no issue doing it for school cuz it’s work), mom and dad are still more or less healthy, and sure bro is fucking making too much noise at home but I hide away from it in the kitchen or what ever...
Nothing is THAT bad but my head, the thoughts, the way I feel, it all feels so... so bad...
I don’t know... maybe I’m being selfish, I crave too many things I can’t obtain or earn at the moment, I feel like my bday was shit (even if I know it wasn’t) because when folks ask me how you spent it I say “In period pains, losing my mind at class all day because I’m not sure what prof wants me to do” and that fact just bums me out so much because I didn’t properly celebrate it this year at all even if I didn’t plan do much with it from the start, I just wanted to hang around with friends and I did this sunday (although not with everyone and technically while I was working in a way), so... idk why I feel like shit about. I feel even shittier because I sound ungrateful. I got so happy about the socks I got from a friend tho, they’re amazing and I truly needed some (that tumblr post about crying happy for getting socks for bday as an adult isn’t a lie).
And then I question what I’m doing with people I consider friends because of the details either of me taking time to interact with some, being picky about who because I feel like their energy suits me better, feeling like I’m being selfish about it even if it’s MY decision on how I want to spend my time and with who but I gotta feel like an bad friend about it for some reason...
All in all, I just kind of concluded I’m lost AF and I dunno what I should do with myself. The idea of future is something I’m pushing away because I don’t know it, I don’t know if we’ll be on the brink of war again or not, I don’t know what to do about the idea that I want to have a romantic relationship with someone, I don’t know how I’ll find a job after this, I don’t know when that will be and how it will effect our current finances, I don’t know how long my parents will hold on, I don’t know where I’ll be in general... which in the end, I know is okay because I can’t predict this stuff, I just generally hide such huge anxiety about it that makes me worry it will surface once I’m done with the uni.
I don’t know... I just don’t know. I need to figure this out on my own but I feel so stuck and lost. This is the second day I skipped school because I didn’t feel mentally alright to go to classes. I also had to help mom with doctors but that’s beyond the point.
What’s sad about all of this is that people want to help me but I end up such shit head towards them when they do I just don’t want to ask for more chats or help from anyone but maybe a therapist at this point. Which would take awhile I guess. Honestly, it’s not like I have time to visit them every week either so hmm....
I’ll continue to work on this I’m just not sure where to pick myself up first because this is all a giant fucking ring of mental and emotional problems surrounding me. Where the hell do I grab it...?
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thesmallmedic · 6 years
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28/05/18 || Posted 29/05/18 Helllooo all, both new and old followers! I'm so sorry I haven't been posting much recently (okay it's only been like a few days buuut...) I am still alive for those of you wondering (just about). Unfortunately I'm having to take a small break from this wonderful platform. My first year medical exams are in about three weeks and I want to do really well! I've come to realise that I'm actually very far behind in my overall revision a) because my technique was all wrong and b) I'm still having lectures at uni until the week before exams (which is crazy how am I supposed to memorise all of Alimentary the week before the exam?!). Furthermore I've been having a rough few weeks with my laptop breaking (conveniently before exams), fasting while having 9-5 days at uni, trying to revise 200 lectures, being ill and a whole bunch of other stuff! Having trouble balancing everything. I've had a couple of breakdowns (gosh my laptop and I are so similar) and I'm trying to bounce back so bear with me. I've always put on a brave face and that's exactly what I'll do now and keep going ☺️ Okay this is bordering on TMI so I'll end it here and just say that I'll be back in full gusto after my exams. You may see me appear in between for a "short" break, who knows. Above are pictures for my Anatomy Sessions on the Head and Neck and a picture of the thunderstorms we've been having (MOOOOOD!)
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tkmedia · 3 years
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The secret ingredient in Harlequins' title-winning transformation
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4:33am, 11 July 2021 It sounds like something madcap from a science fiction movie, gum shields with state-of-the-art microchips in them relaying a whole heap of real-time data measurements about head and body collisions in matches and training, but it isn’t. Instead, Harlequins’ use of the groundbreaking PROTECHTPro system was seen as crucial in their incredible transformation from January doldrums to stunning June Gallagher Premiership champions.ADVERTISEMENTHarlequins aren’t the sole rugby users of this potentially game-changing gum shield designed by Swansea-based Sports & Wellbeing Analytics. Premiership rivals Gloucester and Leicester are also Protecht advocates as are Ospreys, the professional club that sits right on the doorstep of this sports industry disruptor. They are mid to lower table clubs where the creation of databases that can be used to decide when players should rest are yet to have the same title-winning crescendo gloriously celebrated at Twickenham a fortnight.Mike Lancaster, the head of medical services at Harlequins, and veteran scrum-half Danny Care have each spoken enthusiastically to their club’s in-house media about the invaluable data mined from the smart gum shield, but what have the champions of England done to make them so successful compared to other pioneers of this microchipped technology?
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RugbyPass Fanzone on whether the Lions tour will be cancelledRichard Lancaster, who was once viewed as one of the sharpest upcoming coaches in the Welsh system when Scott Johnson was Ospreys boss, is these days head of business development and marketing at SWA and he knows well from his days in a tracksuit how tough it can be to radically change things in teams that are losing more than they are winning.That was the situation at Harlequins over the winter before the sudden exit of Paul Gustard created the perfect storm, encouraging the backroom staff to change tack and see where it might take them. “When you are losing it takes a very brave person to say well actually we are not going to do that today, we are going to do something different, we are going to give you the day off or whatever that may be,” said SWA’s Lancaster to RugbyPass.So much going on in Rugby at the moment in regard to head knocks and concussions. Fascinating to learn more about this and how this can be monitored and training adapted to help with player welfare. Have a look below @PROTECHTPro @Harlequins @mikephys https://t.co/z7QfRkOuuP— Danny Care (@dannycare) April 2, 2021“With Paul leaving when he did – and he is a fantastic coach – but when he left what it did was create a platform for the management at Harlequins, so Mike Lancaster had more of an opportunity to suggest this change and drive it. They were genuinely collaborative leaders there whereas Paul Gustard was the man. Take him away and everyone has got as much of a say in this as anyone else. That handed Mike the conditions, I suppose, to really drive this, to give it a go and be brave. There were other factors as well. There was no relegation, they were on a shot to nothing really because Paul was the accountable person and he was the one who was moved on.ADVERTISEMENT“The other guys there now at Harlequins had the opportunity to have a shot to nothing, so Mike believed in what we were doing (with the collected data), he drove it and took it probably a bit further than he probably would have been allowed to under a head of rugby.”What resulted at Harlequins due to data gleaned from the smart gum shield was that more and more players were wearing white bibs at training, the indicator for their teammates that they were not to take any contact in that session. The monitoring ultimately led to overall contacts dropping 90 per cent and coincided with a day less being spent a week on the training pitch which helped to ensure an attention-grabbing drop in the injury rate.“What we have done with Harlequins, Mike Lancaster said they had reduced contact in training by around 90 per cent but they managed to maintain match intensity. If you watched the semi-final, as it progressed Bristol fell further and further away and it was the fitness and freshness of Harlequins that carried them through. Same story against Exeter.“Quins understood where redundant contacts might happen. It could be in a game of touch, the players are travelling high velocity and if they brush against each other that is a contact. Is that the objective of what they are trying to achieve? No. Is it required? No. So they just moved stuff like that out of their training programme and in their training contact. They train at match intensity but it’s for a purpose.ADVERTISEMENT“Off the back of that at the time of the season where you historically have players out longest with season-ending injuries, they saw their injury rates being the lowest they have been for a number of years, so player availability was higher. As you know if player availability is high then you are more likely to be successful.“Rugby is a brutal sport because you are just on the treadmill. There is no breaks in it…. but Protecht allows you to find that sweet spot between making sure that they are prepared enough and proficient in technique and they can be effective in what they need to be effective in but not loading them up so much that they are likely to breakdown.”Sports & Wellbeing Analytics was founded by a small group of investors in 2016, not to make a quick buck to come up with an innovation that could genuinely aid rugby’s long-term safety. It’s taken a while to get to here from there but having now had their methods tried and tested successfully at professional level, the hope is to eventually make this product available to the grassroots at a price equivalent to the cost of a good pair of boots.
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“Why the company was set up is we want the sport to be around in 20 or 30 or 50 years. Our original investors are rugby people,” continued Lancaster, who retired from playing in his early 20s with a knee injury and has since coached at Mumbles, Swansea Uni, Ospreys age-grade and Swansea.“What they wanted to do was take cutting edge science and technology and apply it to problems, and the biggest problem at the time in rugby was player welfare and concussion. They hoped to collect data around head impacts and understand the cause of concussion and that is where the journey started.“They found very quickly there was nothing on the market that was accurate and reliable. There were neck patches that the Saracens guys had worn, headbands and a few other things out there. GPS can understand what happens in contact as well but the biggest challenge of that is reliability.“There is so much independent movement that you are not actually measuring what is happening to the head and the skull and so we found the only way to do that was couple something to the skull. The next-best thing was to couple a mouthguard to the individual and from there we have seen what is happening to the head.“We went through a huge validation process, firstly at Swansea University and latterly with Stanford University that have confirmed what we say is happening in contact is actually happening. This genuinely is something that helps make the game safer and we’re hoping these mouth guards can provide reassurance to parents, to players that just isn’t there at the moment.Really pleased to be working with @Harlequins and supporting their safe return to play following the COVID lockdown #playerwelfare https://t.co/81fqCE9kz5— PROTECHT (@PROTECHTPro) June 25, 2020“We suspect a lot of the issues lower down the grassroots, because you haven’t got 120kgs professional athletes running into each other and creating a big collision, the more dangerous ones are poor technique and timing, things like that. When you understand where the biggest risk of head injury and suggest different ways of training or different techniques, it can generally be safer at that level.“It is such an ambiguous concept. The way elite professional clubs would have reported contact would be they might say a player hit 20 rucks in a game, but no two rucks are the same. You might be flying in from ten metres to one ruck and be just running up and touching another ruck but they would be put in the same bucket and that doesn’t tell the story of what is happening.“So that is the journey we took. We started to quantify the contact demands, the number of contacts they were making and the intensity of those contacts with Ospreys and then very quickly we shifted into Harlequins, Gloucester, Leicester. We have done some work with Bristol Bears ladies, more recently Harlequins ladies, some work with Salford and Toronto rugby league and are about to kick off with St Helens.“We are also looking at some boxing stuff, have done Premiership League football pilots and where we are able to provide real value is by not only showing what is happening to a player but also giving coaches and athletes a way to better manage that in training.“We know 95 per cent of what happens in a match are your typical things you train for and it’s the five per cent incidents which are the accidents, a knee to a head, someone gets their tackle technique incorrect. Those are things you don’t train for and what we want to make sure is this other five per cent of incidents are seen.”How are we ensuring the safety of our players?We have teamed up with @PROTECHTPro and @OPROMouthguards to monitor player collisions in real time. #COYQ @MJHudsonCorp pic.twitter.com/Ndxtlaks9D— Harlequins Women ? (@HarlequinsWomen) May 26, 2021Has Lancaster a telling example? “One of the worst we have seen is a player carried into contact, it was really innocuous. A No8 carrying into a tackle and went down quite easily and the ball was played away. Nothing happened but we saw a huge impact in that data so we looked at it frame by frame and what actually happened is one of his own teammates arrived and kneed him square in the head when he was in that ruck.“Nobody saw it whereas our technology will pick that up and rely it to the medics to ensure things don’t go unseen because in incidents like that you do want to help, to take the decision away from the player. It has got to be the experts because the player will always want to play on.”The smart mouthguard idea isn’t only confined to the UK. World Rugby are currently involved in a University of Otago study regarding head impacts, but the governing body knows what SWA are up in connection with OPRO, the mouth guard manufacturers they partnered with in 2019.“We have talked to World Rugby on the journey. First of all we have to seek their approval for this to be used in competition. They said this is an area where they can shed light and they are very supportive. All the conversations we have are hugely positive. I haven’t had a conversation where someone where someone said, ‘Look, this isn’t of interest to us’.“It is our ambition that this should be rolled right across the English Premiership and into other leagues as well internationally but it is also on our roadmap that this will eventually get into the grassroots in sport as well, providing that reassurance for parents, teachers and coaches about what is happening.”ICYMI @PROTECHTPro featured on last nights @BBCTheOneShow with @Phil_Vickery talking to players from @gloucesterrugby and @BristolBearsW about how the technology is helping to make the game saferYou can watch the segment here ?? https://t.co/o8BRpWTl8z— PROTECHT (@PROTECHTPro) March 26, 2021For Lancaster, who left a head of sport and corporate engagement role at Swansea University for SWA, that would be a development to savour. “I’m incredibly lucky. I didn’t play at the very highest level, had to retire at a very early age, but I owe my livelihood to rugby. I was very lucky because I coached with the likes of Steve Tandy at Bridgend, the likes of Mike Ruddock and guys at the Ospreys.“I don’t think I was ever going to be good enough to go to the very highest level. It’s such a thankless job, coaching, so I just felt that joining SWA, I feel like I can make far more impact for the sport. I feel like we genuinely can make the game safer, we genuinely can transform rugby and take it to the next level.“I genuinely believe this is something that is going to help change the game in a good way and hopefully helps secure the future of the game at well. It’s sad that we see numbers declining in rugby at the moment. A lot of that would be down to safety concerns from parents and this is something that can definitely help secure the future.“I played in the same generation as Alix Popham. His story is tragic. I’m still in contact with Alix. He says he wishes this technology had been around in his day as it might have helped in some way. Danny Care said a similar thing, he wants this to be around for his kids. That is the big difference that this can make.”We are delighted to be teaming up with the @premierleague to support their efforts to better understand, monitor and manage head impacts within football https://t.co/SUYA3mPdCn— PROTECHT (@PROTECHTPro) March 26, 2021
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