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handler: leah
age: 22
occupation: student
affiliation: gerard's pack
application: later
plotter link: later
gif link: http://i.imgur.com/SXwA1C1.gif
lyrics: And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
On my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot


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Joined: 29-March 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Aug 19 2017, 07:14 PM
Local Time: Oct 18 2017, 03:03 AM
162 posts (0.8 per day)
( 0.54% of total forum posts )
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sasha petrov

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May 5 2017, 06:57 AM
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<div class="letgotop">
<div class="letgotitle">Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?</div>

<img src="http://i.imgur.com/3ohrdkb.gif"> <div class="letgotag">JULIA // <a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b7/f1/a9/b7f1a917933c8d2ff65105b0d4111931.jpg" style="color: #fff">OUTFIT</a> // 383 WORDS</div>

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<div class="letgocont">

Sasha didn’t usually like reaching out to people, but where his siblings were involved, it was a different equation. While Zoya, Ivan and Vita were a more merry bunch - the ones offering support rather than the ones needing it - Julia was different. She was a stable elder-sisterly presence for sure, but Sasha knew she wasn’t always okay. Having been in terrible emotional places himself, he was sensitive to that sort of thing, especially in someone who was as close to him as Julia was. He sensed, despite her never admitting it out loud, that she still somewhat blamed herself for their father’s death. Sasha craved to reassure her, to tell her that it was okay, she couldn’t have controlled what had happened, but bringing up his father’s death was a whole other mental health landmine for him. He knew that if he tried to talk about it in explicit terms, it would lead to yet another spell of crippling anxiety and self-harm. <p>
But that didn’t stop Sasha from at least trying to help. Julia was different from the rest of his siblings - far more closed off, in a sense - and he loved her beyond reason. Whenever he sensed she was upset (despite how well she hid it), he would attempt to offer comfort, even if the said attempts ended up being quite paltry. Which is why he’d turned up at her doorstep that day, armed with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of vodka (the go-to Petrov solution for all problems). She’d sounded a little off on the phone earlier and Sasha had been immediately tipped off. He wasn’t entirely sure why she was feeling low, but the knowledge that she was low, was enough for him to spring into action and come over to her isolated little apartment to make sure she was okay. “H-hey Julia,” he stuttered with a hesitant smile once she opened the door and let him in, “How are you?” He went in for a quick hug and kissed her cheek before he handed her the flowers, “These are for you! Carnations, your favourite.” Holding out the vodka, he continued, “And this one’s to help us relax a little.”<p>



</div>

</div>

<div style="width: 370px; text-align: right; font-family: arial; font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px;"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3079">♥</a></div></center>[/dohtml]

Apr 9 2017, 05:25 PM
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<div class="letgotop">
<div class="letgotitle">And sorrow slow dances, the phones are lighting up</div>

<img src="http://i.imgur.com/3ohrdkb.gif"> <div class="letgotag">NINA // <a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/0d/0f/f0/0d0ff06cc37f4e0dfcf26b77794011b9.jpg" style="color: #fff">OUTFIT</a> // 473 WORDS</div>

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<div class="letgocont">

Hyde Park was, perhaps, the only public place Sasha really truly, wholeheartedly comfortable in. There were childhood memories associated with it, of course - Sasha and his siblings often visited it as kids and had spent hours on hours bonding and playing there - but that wasn’t just it. There was just something about the park, something soft and serene and infinitely calming, which never failed to put him at ease, especially when he was struggling with panic attacks. The excited bustle of the crowd seemed to fade into white noise, time seemed to slow down as he did things as basic as admiring the flower gardens or feeding the ducks, and whenever he was here, the world felt like a better place, even if momentarily. Needless to say, Hyde Park was Sasha’s absolute go-to whenever his anxiety got particularly uncontrollable. The fresh air, the pristine surroundings - they went a long way in grounding him, helping him breathe easier, helping him get his thoughts back on track. <p>
That day, too, his anxiety had gotten out of hand. It was one of those days when the crippling self-doubt overwhelmed him, making him feel completely and utterly worthless and that he was going to fail and screw up everything in his life. He’d escaped the University early, mumbling half-hearted excuses, and had taken an immediate detour to Hyde Park. He needed the fresh air, but more than anything; he needed time alone to cope with his catastrophic thoughts, not having it in him to go home and face Zoya or Ivan yet. He was scurrying through the park in search of his regular bench; his head was bowed down, buried in the crook of the multiple binders he was carrying. He wasn’t really looking where he was going, too focused on just finding a quiet enough place to settle down and breathe easier, and before he knew it, he collided into a thin, petite form. “I’m s-so sorry,” he muttered in mild horror, looking up to find a woman who looked as apprehensive and harried as him. She looked extremely familiar, but he was just so flustered at the moment his brain wasn't functioning well enough to recall why. “I didn’t mean to..uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” He felt like an imbecile, a fool, and felt his anxiety spike up, almost reaching a boil. He had to force himself to just stop and try to exhibit the breathing exercises his therapist had prescribed; inhaling sharp bursts of air and letting his heartbeat even out. He stood there silently for a few minutes, and once he felt a little more composed, looked around to find the woman still standing there staring at him. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized again, kicking himself internally for worrying this woman, “I didn’t..I was just...feeling a little unwell. I didn’t mean to cause you a bother.”<p>


</div>

</div>

<div style="width: 370px; text-align: right; font-family: arial; font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px;"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3079">♥</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Apr 6 2017, 03:28 PM
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<div class="letgotop">
<div class="letgotitle">Took a little time to make it a little better</div>

<img src="http://i.imgur.com/3ohrdkb.gif"> <div class="letgotag">HOLLY // <a href="https://cdnd.lystit.com/photos/2140-2014/07/27/banana-republic-gray-textured-sweater-vest-dark-charcoal-grey-product-1-22060284-0-643878366-normal.jpeg" style="color: #fff">OUTFIT</a> // 421 WORDS</div>

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<div class="letgocont">

Sasha’s favorite pastime, quite predictably, was hanging around in bookstores. Whenever he got some amount of reprieve from studying, or teaching, or his copious anxiety attacks, he could be found carefully perusing the Math section of his favorite bookstore - the one right in the very middle of Trafalgar Square. Needless to say, he was a regular customer; so regular that the proprietor of the store gave him special discounts, brought in special deliveries on his request, and even offered him tea whenever he stayed too long. But today, he unfortunately couldn’t dally much. He’d come in with a specific request - a book on statistical theory he’d been lusting after for ages - and had to speedily depart, having an ungodly amount of prep still remaining for the lesson he had to teach the following day. He bundled up his books close to his chest, thanked the store assistants, and stepped out onto the Square in haste, ready to hail a cab. <p>
The last thing he was expecting, however, was to be greeted with torrential downpour. Though rain was a common occurrence considering this was England, this particular downpour seemed relentless; too forceful, and unwilling to subside any time soon. It battered down in reams, drenching not just his sweatervest, but also his carefully acquired books. Sasha frantically searched for shelter, noticing that everyone around him was doing the exact same thing and rushing to every little store or restaurant they could find. He skipped over a few puddles and scampered in the general direction of what he thought was a relatively empty cafe, simultaneously trying to protect his books from the rain. He could feel a panic attack coming, but forced himself to breathe, concentrating instead on getting to a warm, dry place where he could be safe from the rain. Just as he was nearing his destination, he ran straight into a petite young woman, stumbling a little, and almost slipping, but steadying himself at the last possible moment. He concentrated extra hard on his books, not at all wanting to drop them or expose them any more water than they already had been; and fortunately, he succeeded in holding on to them, even if by the skin of his teeth. Having satisfactorily straightened up, he now concentrated on the woman he’d bumped into. “I’m so sorry,” he said meekly, “I was in a rush trying to get away from the rain and I..didn’t see where I was going. You’re okay, right?”<p>


</div>

</div>

<div style="width: 370px; text-align: right; font-family: arial; font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px;"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3079">♥</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Mar 30 2017, 06:07 PM
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<center><div id="letgo">

<div class="letgotop">
<div class="letgotitle">Don't let your heart grow cold</div>

<img src="http://i.imgur.com/3ohrdkb.gif"> <div class="letgotag">TWIN // <a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/24/8d/d6/248dd6eba12a9a1e8758dc06e61f1778.jpg" style="color: #fff">OUTFIT</a> // 335 WORDS</div>

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<div class="letgocont">

Sasha was, as he was often prone to be, anxious. It was (fortunately) not a serious panic attack, and yet one that was no less debilitating. His anxiety often came in waves, hitting him when he was least expecting it, and now, it had resurfaced again like a steady thrum beating against his heart, making him question everything about himself. He had entrenched himself far too deeply in his studying again, so desperate to excel in the postgraduate course he was about to begin soon that he had worked himself up into a frenzy trying to solve every single problem set in his prescribed textbooks. He had sailed through the first few problem sets, but had ultimately gotten stuck on the chapter on mathematical derivatives, castigating himself constantly for not being able to get through these equations. He was just about to give up, tear his hair out or probably harm his skin again, when Zoya breezed into the room, muttering about something that had happened at work. <p>
She collapsed gracelessly on his bed, probably tired from her long day at the garage and he sighed in return, putting the cap back on his pen and shutting his books. Zoya liked company whenever she was cranky from work, and Sasha was so desperate for a distraction at this point, he was more than willing to indulge her. He walked over to the bed, and settled beside his twin sister, pulling up a blanket around both of them. “Hey lapushka,” he snuggled closer to her, inhaling her warmth and feeling oddly comforted by it, “How was your day? Not good, I’m guessing, judging from your mood?” He curled more thoroughly into the blanket, making himself as comfortable as possible. “You can tell me all about it if you want to vent.” Since he himself was never comfortable verbalizing his issues, his only form of vicarious catharsis was through Zoya’s many rants. And right now, one of her rants was exactly what he needed. <p>



</div>

</div>

<div style="width: 370px; text-align: right; font-family: arial; font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px;"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3079">♥</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Mar 30 2017, 04:39 PM
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<center><div id="letgo">

<div class="letgotop">
<div class="letgotitle">So tame my flesh And fix my eyes</div>

<img src="http://i.imgur.com/BdGmFFE.gif"> <div class="letgotag">HUSBAND // <a href="https://cdn.lookastic.es/looks/blazer-jersey-con-cuello-circular-camisa-de-vestir-large-4280.jpg" style="color: #fff">OUTFIT</a> // 637 WORDS</div>

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Sasha had every reason to be both inordinately anxious and inordinately excited that morning. Not only had he gotten an early acceptance into the postgraduate course of his choice, but had earned himself a summer job at the very same university too! He was finally going to teach! And this was his first day! He was positively buzzing with nervous energy. <p>
Obviously, he was nothing more than a mere teaching assistant, not being qualified enough for anything higher, but that didn’t mean he was any less dedicated to the task at hand. Math was everything to him, and this was his unique opportunity to not only gain more knowledge, but also impart that very same knowledge to young, impressionable minds. He’d already made elaborately color-coded lesson plans, complete with detailed notes and thorough highlighting of important bullet points; but he had arrived early anyway, intending to make a beeline to the library first. He wanted to grab even more books, mostly to cross-reference everything he’d already written down but also to brush up a little on his own course. He fumbled along the stairs, trying to painstakingly balance the heavy stack of books he was holding and not letting anything drop. His heart was already beating too fast, and he mentally considered every possible outcome his first ever lesson could have. He wondered whether he would falter completely, unable to utter a single word under the pressure of addressing a class full of students; or, whether he would come across as a complete bore, unable to retain his students’ attention. Either prospect terrified him to the core, but the only thing that kept him going was the thought of his father. This is what he had always wanted for Sasha; to keep learning, and to keep facilitating the learning of others. Sasha hoped Father would be proud of him today, wherever he was.<p>
With gritted teeth and swallowed insecurities, he entered the library with a single-minded focus – to excel at his teaching. But of course, his determination quickly dissipated into horror when, as soon as he set foot in the library, he tripped over an untied shoelace and almost fell face-first onto the floor. He watched in steadily quickening panic as all his carefully assembled books and notes spilled everywhere and braced himself for a painful fall. However, to his utmost surprise, the fall never came. Instead, he found himself being held up by a solid, masculine form. He hadn’t even noticed the boy earlier (all the books he was carrying were blocking his vision), but now Sasha was suddenly face-to-face with him, a little too close for comfort. Immediately very conscious of his clumsiness, he straightened himself with a jolt, and then knelt down to collect all the books he’d just dropped. To his surprise, he found the other man kneeling down too, helping him assemble all his scattered belongings. “Uh, thanks for the...uh, help,” he mumbled timidly, “But you don’t...uh...need to. I can...manage.” But his words fell on deaf ears, and the boy continued to help him gather his books, continued to retrieve all the errant pieces of paper that had gone flying everywhere. They were still a little too close, and Sasha felt a familiar sense of unease. Had he offended this person by refusing his help? Or had he just...spoken out of turn? Sasha bent back down and tried to concentrate on putting all his notes back in his folder instead of letting his mind run away with its catastrophic thoughts, but before he could realize what he was doing, both their fingers rested on the same book, brushing against each other quite intimately. Sasha pulled away at lightning speed, but couldn’t keep the blush from creeping into his cheeks. “Uh, I...” he stuttered, “No really, its okay.”<p>



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