how do i explain to people that even trying to think about university or career planning right now puts me in fight or flight mode??
like i appreciate the concern, you are right, i should really think about that stuff but that doesn't change the fact that i physically feel like i can't. Even the vague concept of the future makes me want to burst into tears. I'm sorry i don't know what to do with my life T-T
This editions of Hedwig’s scribbles brings you a young TOS Jeff. I’ve come to the annoying realisation that my camera squashes things down so the original actually looks a bit longer and narrower than this picture. Unfortunately my scanner makes everything too white and you lose half the image. *Sigh*
@willow-salix has been her superstar self again with both the fic and the art, I don’t know what I would do without her as a sympathetic critic, putting up with all my wobbles.
Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five
AO3 chapter link
Chapter Six
It didn’t take long for normality to return for Gordon. He had given one or two carefully selected interviews in the lull between his medal win and the closing ceremony of the Games but any requests by magazines had been vetoed by Jeff since his return stateside. Any approaches regarding sponsorship opportunities had been similarly turned away. Initially the reporters clamoured for the chance to speak to the elusive young star but in the face of continued rejections the requests tailed off. His obligations were decidedly minimal as he slipped from the public eye.
With no school making its demands felt Gordon was able to concentrate fully on his swimming; the World Championships and a national competition were both on the horizon and gave him something to aim for. He often found himself heading out for an additional run or putting in more time at the gym, this was partly to keep in peak condition and partly to escape the oppressive atmosphere in the apartment.
He had gone from being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the Games with a team mate around every corner to home with its dwindling population.
First Virgil had returned to Denver claiming he needed access to the technical facilities, then John had gone back to campus and finally Alan had been sent off to summer camp to spend time in the great outdoors. If the messages coming Gordon’s way were anything to go by Alan was finding outdoors to be too full of bugs and too lacking in games consoles to be considered great.
Now it was just him and his father. Whenever they were in the apartment together he felt like he was under the microscope. Being judged. Being appraised. He tended to stay in his room to avoid the attention. With no one else around staying in his room was becoming a habit, even when Jeff was out at work.
He vaguely registered the click of the apartment door as his father returned but it was past dinner time and he had already eaten so he didn’t feel any need to emerge. His father would likely be reading files late into the night. He expected his contact to be limited to the standard ‘good night’ as he brushed his teeth before bed, he was therefore surprised when a sharp rap sounded on his door.
“Gordon. My study.”
The footsteps retreated down the corridor leaving no opportunity to ask questions and he couldn’t think of anything he had done to warrant such a summons. He also knew it didn’t do to keep his father waiting so he paused the film he was watching and made his way to the study.
The door was open so he went straight in. His father’s big desk faced the doorway and Jeff was already sat back down behind it by the time Gordon entered. He stepped up and patiently waited to be acknowledged, curious as to why he had been called for.
“Gordon, I have to go out of town for a few days.”
“Ok.”
“So you need to decide what you would rather do. You have two choices; either I can arrange for you to join Alan at summer camp or you can go and stay with Virgil.”
“Honestly, you don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine by myself for a few days.”
“You are not staying here alone,” Jeff’s voice was stern and intractable.
“I’m not a kid any more Dad.”
“Then maybe you should stop acting like one. It’s time you grew up and started planning for the future.”
The thought that his father didn’t trust him alone in the house for a few days stung, especially given the number of times he had been responsible for not only himself but Alan too when their father got held up at the office until late. He was seventeen, he had finished school and he had a gold medal. Apparently none of that was enough to afford him the privilege of staying home alone. The thought of being shipped off so his older brother could do babysitting duty was pretty bad but the idea of summer camp was much worse. Being surrounded by kids mostly Alan’s age and having to take part in enforced activities was not appealing.
“What about my swimming?”
“I’ve already spoken to your coach. There are no major competitions for a few months so you can afford some fallow time.”
The thought that Jeff had bypassed him and gone straight to his coach was even more belittling. It was like being ten years old again with the schedule of events stuck to the fridge and Jeff marking off which ones he could do based on the availability of a chaperone.
“And you might need to ease up on your swimming anyway. Now that high school is over you need to work out where you are headed in life.”
And there it was. The not so subtle reminder that his father didn’t consider swimming to be a viable career prospect. Even with an Olympic gold and a world record to his name, professional athlete was not on the list of Jeff Tracy approved jobs. Everything he had worked for just diminished and relegated to the status of hobby. That’s not to say that his father hadn’t been genuinely proud of his success so far but it was like he had reached the pinnacle and now it was time to move on. It was one thing to have an Olympian as a son but the next Games were four years away and there was no knowing if Gordon would maintain his position in the world rankings. World championships had their prestige in the sporting world but didn’t have the same gravitas as the Olympics to non-sporting folks.
Even if the uncertainty of future successes could be put aside Jeff had also made it abundantly clear that he disapproved of the selfishness of the sporting world. Athletic success didn’t improve the world beyond providing entertainment. It wasn’t a career that would make a difference. It wasn’t useful, and just lately usefulness had become an overriding theme in the Tracy household.
“I’m waiting, Gordon. Which is it to be?”
He wanted to scream and shout but if there was one way Gordon was a Tracy through and through it was in his ability to keep his emotions contained in the face of adversity, or at least repressed until he was in a safe space. Only Alan was yet to learn the skill; his youngest sibling wore his heart on his sleeve and Gordon often admired him for the way he could express himself freely, even if it sometimes led to blazing rows with their patriarch. His broad shoulders slumped a little. It was a done deal that he was being sent away for the duration of his father’s business trip. He knew there was no point arguing and antagonising his father.
“Denver, please.” Gordon’s normally cheerful voice was carefully neutral, a testament to the feelings he was keeping in check. He wondered if he would ever be afforded the privilege of being treated like an adult or whether he would forever be a child in his father’s eyes; a person to be managed and directed rather than trusted as an individual.
Having received an answer Jeff considered the interview concluded and turned back to his tablet to book the required flight. He might have a private jet at his disposal but he would need that for his own trip. Gordon would be flying commercial, as usual. An early morning flight was soon arranged and Jeff was able to return to his work, scrolling through the multitude of files related to his latest project. He looked up to reach for his coffee and seemed surprised that Gordon was still stood in front of him.
“Go and pack, Gordon.”
Summarily dismissed Gordon returned to his room. Clothes and toiletries were thrown haphazardly into a bag. He took his anger out on the drawers of his dresser, yanking them out and slamming them shut. The clothes hangers in his closet rattled and tumbled to the floor as he yanked down shirts. He looked at his Team USA kit; the formal blazer and whites covered in a protective dust jacket next to the tracksuit worn poolside between heats. The uniform was a painful reminder of his achievement that already seemed to be forgotten by the father he tried so hard to please. The garments were thrown to the floor of the closet to lay in a crumpled heap on top of his shoes.
Just a few short weeks ago those two outfits had symbolised his achievements. Proof that, as far as America was concerned, he was worthy. He remembered the thrill of pulling on the garments for the first time, the cut of the blazer emphasising his broad chest and shoulders. They were his uniform. His battle dress. After the Games he had carefully hung them up as a reminder of everything he had worked for, a sign that all the sacrifices had been worth it. Now they screamed failure rather than success. Failure to live up the narrow ideals of his father. He kicked out at a trailing sleeve that had flopped over the threshold of the closet then slammed the door on the rumpled mess.
Gordon flung himself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He knew he was acting the petulant teenager his father viewed him as but sometimes it was hard not to revert to type when you never had the opportunity to prove yourself to be anything different. Anger bubbled up inside him. Just because he wasn’t like the others with their perfect grades and traditional life choices it felt like he would never be allowed to make his own decisions. Even the career he had strived towards and made so many sacrifices for was being slowly taken away. How dare his father speak to his coach about training commitments. How dare he sideline the one talent Gordon possessed. In all other areas he was measured up and found wanting but the medal above his bed and the world record in the history books were irrefutable evidence that he could make his mark in the world and be an individual in his own right.
The seething injustice coloured Gordon’s dreams that night. His sleep was restless and more than once his legs became twisted in the sheets, dragging him back to wakefulness in order to free the constricting restraints. When the morning alarm marked the end of the night, disturbing his dozing form and forcing away the last vestiges of sleep Gordon felt distinctly unrefreshed. However, years of practice at taking himself to early morning swimming training meant he was able to resist the temptation to stay in bed and so he was ready, bag in hand, when the car arrived to take him to the airport. Evidently his father’s commitments were too heavy to allow him to perform this duty and Gordon was graced with only a brief goodbye before being handed into the custody of a driver.
xoxoxox
Denver was tiny compared to Los Angeles. It was still a sprawling metropolis compared to the backwater towns of Kansas but Gordon instantly felt more at home in the mid-western air. He felt like he could finally breathe again. He had never felt settled in Los Angeles with its inescapable traffic and permanent glow. A city that never slept.
When he had first been told of the move to the coast he had been excited at the prospect of living so close to the ocean that held his fascination. It was an odd obsession for a boy brought up as far from the sea as it was possible to get but Gordon had always felt drawn to water in all its forms. The few coastal holidays they had managed were filled with happy memories of rock pooling, snorkelling and learning the dangers of his beautiful aquatic mistress but in Gordon’s eyes the Los Angeles waterfront was a shallow imitation of what the barrier between land and sea should be. The sculpted beaches filled with sculpted bodies held no appeal. After one visit shortly after arriving in the city Gordon never went down to the waterfront again.
Virgil was there to meet him in the airport arrival’s lounge. Dressed in his habitual plaid he was easy to spot. Gordon soon found himself relieved of his bag as Virgil swung it over one shoulder with ease. It wasn’t that Virgil thought him incapable, it was just the way he was. Brother or not, Gordon was his guest and carrying your guest’s bag was a courtesy that had been instilled in each of them from an early age. A brotherly arm was draped across his shoulders and he found himself drawn into a brief embrace before they walked companionably towards the taxi rank.
It didn’t take long to reach Virgil’s apartment which was situated a short stroll from campus. The campus itself was still eerily quiet, mostly populated by faculty and a few postgrads like Virgil who had stuck around to work on projects. Term, and the influx of undergraduates that came with it, was yet to start. The streets surrounding the campus were free of the term time hustle and bustle created by the transient student population and the area had a calm serenity that contrasted sharply to the buzzing city Gordon had recently left.
The apartment was the epitome of masculine design, each item of furniture or decoration a clear reflection of its occupant. There was an eclectic mix of high end items and junk store finds, set off by hand crafted pieces made by Virgil himself. Comfortable, functional and strong, the whole ensemble coordinated perfectly. Virgil’s habitat had grown organically over his few years of occupation, it was now as warm and friendly as its owner and a place that you couldn’t help but relax in.
It felt more homely than the Los Angeles apartment which always had an air of echoing emptiness. Jeff had wanted to ensure that his older boys had a space to come back to and call their own and with money no object the city pad he had procured was obscenely large for a place normally occupied by just three people. The executive styling added to the cold and impersonal air of the place. It was an environment where people co-existed rather than lived and the extra rooms for absent siblings only seemed to enhance the feeling of loneliness. It felt good to be in Denver rather than Los Angeles, even if the reason for the visit stung.
Gordon sat down on the couch, bouncing slightly to test its springiness. The apartment was a compact, one bedroomed affair and he knew the couch would be his bed for the next few nights. The sound of a coffee maker and the chink of mugs from the kitchen showed that Virgil still had his caffeine addiction and the warm aroma of good coffee was soon filling the space, adding to the general air of comfort. Before many minutes had passed his brother was back beside him and two brimming mugs sat steaming the coffee table
“Hey, so you decided to come check out my school. It’s a great place here, you’ll love it. I can show you around all the labs and things while it’s still quiet, maybe introduce you to some of the faculty depending on what area you want to specialise in.”
Virgil’s enthusiasm was met with stunned bewilderment.
“Dad said you were looking at college, right?” he probed, tentatively.
Evidently this trip wasn’t just about Gordon not being trusted at home. Even from afar his father was making his intentions clear and pushing his own agenda of what he expected of his sons. Virgil watched as the teenager in front of him stiffened, a defensive shell seeming to rise up around Gordon and a sullen look appeared across the features which had seemed so relaxed and at ease until that point.
“No, Dad just didn’t want me staying home alone. Look, I’m sure it’s great for you but I’ve got no plans for college at all. In case you hadn’t noticed I’m not exactly college material.”
Witnessing the self-depreciation from his brother stung. Busy lives meant he hadn’t spent much time alone with Gordon in the last few years. The young man in front of him was clearly hurting and Virgil’s caring nature was screaming at him to make it better but he felt woefully ill-equipped to counsel the troubled teen.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’d be able to go to college if you wanted to. You’re smart; you were hardly at school the last two years and you still managed to graduate with good marks.”
Gordon turned sorrowful eyes on his brother, he had never been able to be angry with Virgil and fighting with the gentle giant didn’t come naturally. There was something about Virgil that reminded him of Mom; something that invited him to open up, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be judged.
“And what if it’s not what I want? Sometimes it feels like I don’t have any say in my life. Dad wants me to stop swimming. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
Truth be told, Virgil didn’t. He had only ever met encouragement for his plans, he had been supported and his passions had been indulged. Music lessons and art classes had co-existed with school, ensuring he had a therapeutic release from his more traditional studies. His desire to study engineering had been greeted with enthusiasm and a generous allowance. To hear that a brother was being expected to give up their passion was a surprise to him.
“I’m sure Dad only wants what’s best for you.”
“Yeah, it always comes down to what Dad wants.” There was a snort of derision. “But news flash Virgil, I’m not like the rest of you. I’m never going to get into Harvard or Yale or anywhere else Dad would approve of. And I don’t want to. I have one thing I’m good at and now that’s being taken away.”
“I’m sure that’s not true Gordo, there are lots of things you’re good at. Look, maybe college isn’t the right place for you but don’t sell yourself short. It sounds like you and Dad just need some space apart from each other for a bit. He’s got a lot on at the moment, there’s a big project in the pipeline and you know how focussed he can get when that happens. You know, you are always welcome here if you need some breathing space. And I promise, no campus tour unless you want it.”
“Thanks Virg. Maybe a break will do me good. It’s all just so tense back home.”
Gordon felt a heavy arm slung over his shoulders as he was drawn in to a hug that held more meaning than the brief embrace of greeting he had received earlier. Virgil had always been the most free of the siblings in showing his love physically. With Virgil moved out Gordon couldn’t remember the last time he had received a hug from anyone other than Alan and those were becoming more rare and awkward as the pair aged.
His initial instinct was to push away but he didn’t want to hurt Virgil’s feelings. He could feel the beating of the larger man’s heart and he found the rhythm soothing. The tension he hadn’t even realised he was carrying began to slowly dissipate and he melted into the soft cotton of Virgil’s shirt. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before slowly pushing himself out of the embrace.
“Better?”
He nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak.
Gordon settled back and savoured the coffee. Perhaps the time in Denver wouldn’t be so bad after all.
My stepsister got into a really bad car wreck when I was younger and almost died and ever since then the idea if driving terrifies me and now I'm at that age where everyone is pressuring me to get my permit and license but it gives me such bad anxiety
That's a totally reasonable and understandable fear, tell them that you aren't comfortable with the idea of driving at least not yet, be honest and tell them how scared it makes you and I hope they understand.
Euna Kim didn’t have a smooth debuting process. In 2011, she appeared on the third season of Mnet’s “Superstar K.” In 2015, she became part of The Ark, and in 2016, she starred in the third season of “Unpretty Rapstar.” Then she appeared on KBS’s idol rebooting program “The Unit.” Finally, in May, she debuted as KHAN with Jeon Min Ju who is also a former member of The Ark.
excerpt:
The singer was born in the United States and spent her school days in New York City. Ever since she was little, she was gifted intellectually and even became the top of the whole school during middle school. She revealed, “At that time, I really loved studying. Because I only studied, I did not have much interaction with my friends. You would think I was outgoing and lived freely in America since I was born there, but that wasn’t the case. My family was very strict.”
Even during those days, Euna Kim loved to sing and act, but she wondered if she could become a singer with her skills. On top of those doubts, her parents had much expectations from her, so she just became immersed in her studies. Her goal was to become a pharmacist or a doctor. Euna Kim admitted, “Although I didn’t intend to be a pharmacist when I grew up, I studied hard to listen to my parents.”
When Euna Kim entered high school, she got into a dilemma. While stressing over school, she faced health problems. She stated, “At that time, I got issues with my thyroid, so that I had to take it easy. That made me sincerely think about what I should do in the future.”
Do you ever met an older person who you could tell would have accomplished great things in what they actually liked to do, but society and upbringing prevented them from even considering that it could be a path for them
lamb to the slaughter/beg for forgiveness/taking accountability | “windows”/found family/non-human whumper | "panic"/caught in a net | trapped with the enemy/pushed beyond the breaking point/"horror" | forced reveal/"it'll be for nothing" | forced retirement/"in the end, it's worthwhile" | "you can take a break, if you just tell me that it hurts."/repressed trauma | immortality/soulless/ruins | dehumanization/resignation | choking/"monster" | lost faith/"relapse" | "want me"/creative restraints | jealousy/"trust" | rescued by the enemy/yearning
Contents: angel whumpers, multiple whumpers, demon whumpee, recapture, poisoned, seizure, mind control, past child abuse, religious abuse, religious themes, pressure from a parental figure, misunderstanding whump, reluctant whumper, nonsexual nudity, collared and chained
~
The demon’s screams were shaking apart the room. Azazel fell a step back. Their hands crept up toward their ears. They needed to blot out the noise, needed to make it stop. Tears brimmed in their eyes.
The chain rattled as the demon crumpled to the floor, began to twitch and convulse. Blood smeared on the wood beneath him. The shackles binding his wrists and ankles strained as his body arched, contorted, writhed. Azazel covered their mouth and stumbled.
“Azazel.” Ezekiel’s voice was pitched low, beneath the sound of the demon’s tortured screams. “Are you alright?”
Azazel could only shake their head. The demon’s screams were going to cave their skull in.
“Child,” Ezekiel said gently. He cradled Azazel’s face.
The world was swallowed by screaming. “Oh, for the love of… Cease your carry on immediately,” Ezekiel snapped over his shoulder.
The demon’s mouth snapped shut, and his screaming stopped like his vocal cords had been severed. But his body continued to convulse like he was lying on a live wire. Azazel could hear themself think. But they couldn’t tear their gaze away from the demon’s body, and how they had hurt it.
“I’m… s-sorry, Ezekiel,” Azazel managed. The tears in their eyes escaped and ran down their cheeks.
Ezekiel tilted his head. “I should have known that this would be… a challenge for you, dear one,” he said gently.
Azazel nodded, grasping at his wrists. “Yes. A challenge. Maybe if we could just… stop, maybe if we could stop—”
“With your past, it is understandable.” He nodded sagely and released them, casting a glance over his shoulder at the demon. “But you must see. This is a demon. What happened to you was an abomination. You are angel, and your mistreatment was an affront against your nature. This creature deserves punishment and death. The two are not the same thing. Not the same thing at all.”
Azazel went motionless as Ezekiel stepped forward. Their back met the wall. They were pinned – not pinned, he wasn’t holding them there, but his gaze was cold and hard and he towered over them and they couldn’t breathe. “This is the war, Azazel,” he murmured. “This is all there has ever been, for as long as angels and demons have existed. There is us, and there is them, and there is what they deserve for their sin. This is what you must learn, love. The work is hard, but you must learn it.”
They looked up at him, frozen in place.
There is us, and there is them.
If I don’t do this, I’ll join the demon in his punishment.
“Do you understand, dear one?” Ezekiel said, cool hands cradling their face once more.
They had never felt so trapped – not even in their mother’s basement, when they had been chained by their wrists and throat. The demon spasming on the floor was oblivious to them as they trembled in Ezekiel’s hands. More tears formed and rolled down their cheeks.
“I understand,” they rasped.
“Good,” Ezekiel said, and stepped away. Azazel let out a breath.
Ezekiel returned to the demon’s side, nudged him with the toe of his perfectly shined shoe. The demon shuddered and rolled onto his back. His pupils were huge, black taking up most of the eye. Even silent, he was sobbing. Tears streamed from his face onto the floor.
“Azazel,” Ezekiel said. “I would like you to choose what we do next to it. You must learn this, and learn it well. What does your conscience call for us to do to it now?”
Azazel’s hands were shaking. They hid them behind their back, blinked tears out of their eyes. They took a deep, shuddering breath and swallowed hard, prayed that their voice would be steady when they spoke. “Um…” It was steady enough. “He’s… a demon. Perhaps we should, um… burn him?”
Ezekiel clapped his hands. “An excellent choice,” he said crossing to the table. “Usually we would just use our hands, but since it is not full-blooded…” He picked up a small branding iron in the shape of a cross. “I can heat this for us. Come, Azazel. Tell me where we should brand it first.”
डॉक्टर ने खुलासा किया कि क्यों कई भारतीय महिलाएं शादी और माता-पिता के दबाव से इनकार नहीं कर पातीं: 'मुझे शर्मिंदा किया गया और मजबूर किया गया'
भारत में विवाह को शायद ही कभी एक विकल्प के रूप में देखा जाता है; इसके बजाय, इसे अक्सर एक अनिवार्य मील का पत्थर माना जाता है जिसे हर वयस्क-विशेषकर महिलाओं-से हासिल करने की उम्मीद की जाती है। कई लोग मानते हैं कि यह मानसिकता दशकों पहले पीछे छूट गई थी, लेकिन 2026 में भी, वास्तविकता लगभग वैसी ही है। क्रिश्चियनेज़ रत्ना किरूबा, एक डॉक्टर और एक स्वास्थ्य पत्रकार, ने 29 जून, 2026 को एक इंस्टाग्राम पोस्ट…
I wish I love my sports in a “I love this sport so much! I’m so glad I started this on my own” way and not in a “I’m being forced to do this, I hv no choice in whether or not I do this way, I js want to please my parents way”
I feel so shitty whenever I think about why I do jiu-jitsu and wrestling. Bc I used to hv such a genuine love for these sports I just wish I could do them on my own terms instead of having high expectations from my parents.
this is me being injured and being the happiest I’ve ever been not training, not competing and no pressure to train.
(btw I love working out sm I js hate that I hv to do it for a reason, I js wanna live my best life gng)
