#harry styles falling wallpaper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

etherealacoustic · 2 years

Text

Deep Breaths

Pairing - Harry Styles x fem!reader

Warnings - panic attacks, feeling anxious.

Summary - all the events of his day finally caught up to Harry and he gets frantic and experiences a panic attack.

He opened the door, fingers fumbling with the key as he staggered in. His clothes were messy, wrinkled. His breathing was quick and uneven and a troubled expression on his face as he walked inside.

A frustrated sigh left his lips at seeing the living room dark, indicating that you weren't home yet.

His head hung low making the long curls fall onto his face, him not making the slightest move to push them away. Needing nothing more than your presence.

Not having the will to go and change, he sat down on the couch and stared at the ceiling without even bothering to switch on the light. Him wanting his surroundings to reflect his feelings.

Harry stared and just stared. Into nothingness as he thought every possible thing that had gone wrong, or had made his upset during the day.

He was already worried about the album, the different kinds of performances and award shows that would follow and now whenever he scrolled through social media, all he saw were posts and articles about celebrities breaking up with their partner.

That was the last thing he saw before he called it a day and came straight home.

Ideas were swarming his head from the moment he started driving from his studio until now. Many scenarios were imagined by his mind too, some rather harsh.

He finally raised his head from its resting place and picked up his phone to unconsciously glance at the wallpaper without even meaning to do so.

It was a picture of him and you. Both with huge grins and vanilla icing on the faces as you two laughed.

His throat suddenly started to burn making him swallow deeply and frown at his state. But despite every attempt, he couldn't shake down the abrupt emotion.

His heart took up speed and his throat burnt beyond belief as he bounced his legs to keep the tears at bay. Panic was beginning to settle inside him, he knew what was coming as he could hear his pounding heart.

Harry's neck and face were coated with a slick layer of sweat and then goosebumps erupted on his arms that were a contrast to his glistening face.

"No no no," he muttered under his breath. His voice was barely above a murmur because he couldn't do anything.

"Please," he whispered and prayed for the tightness to resolve. He scrunched his eyes shut and thought of every memory in which he was genuinely happy.

He thought of your proud face after listening to his new title track, his mother's smile after he won a prestigious award and his sister's teasing smirk as they played around.

But nothing was able to alleviate that uneasiness. His body seemed to weigh a ton and he wasn't able to move from his position at all.

He needed you now more than ever, and just his luck, you weren't home.

He suddenly released a shaky puff. His palm went over to his chest as his breathing quickened and he started rubbing circles to steady his frantic heart.

His legs started bouncing uncontrollably while his fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair.

He couldn't even cry out loud for god's sake. He was too terrified and alarmed that everything he saw seemed blurry. His head whirled around rapidly making his locks sway as he looked everywhere.

He was so deep in himself that he didn't hear the key being inserted and the door being clicked open.

As soon as you pushed the door and looked up, you didn't even have the time to frown at the dark surrounding as your eyes landed on Harry's shaking figure.

"Har?" You breathed out and immediately shook off your coat before walking over to him.

"Hey," he heard someone speaking and looked up to see you there, your face the definition of worry.

He opened his mouth, trying to say something but was helpless as he couldn't breathe properly.

"No no," you muttered. "Don't say anything, it's okay".

His hands went up to his head to grab at his hair, pulling them as he let out a strangled cry of frustration and panic.

"Shhh," you whispered and gently took hold of his hands very slowly as you tested whether he was okay with physical touch or not.

But he didn't pull away so you gently cupped his cheeks and directed his face to look at yours.

"It's okay," you said and caressed his skin with utmost gentleness. His emerald eyes, usually filled with a cheerful glint were nothing but anxious as he stared at you.

Harry's heart slowed down ever so slightly but his breathing was still the same. Unstable and shaky.

"Can I hug you?" You asked softly, already knowing he wouldn't mind but not at all wanting to overstep any boundaries and make the situation worse.

He looked distracted and agitated, the words ringing in his ears for a second before he registered them. A nod was given and you smiled gently and pulled him in an embrace.

His head rested on your shoulder and not pressed against it so he could breathe easily. Your hand went to rub his back with soothing circles while the other combed through his hair.

"You're okay, H. You're getting through this," you murmured above his head. "Take deep breaths yeah? Just focus on your breathing. You're getting there".

He heard you clearly this time and took inhaled deeply, holding it for a few seconds before letting go.

"Just like that," you cheered with a quiet voice and he repeated his actions.

You continued to rub his back in silence, just uttering soft reassurances in between and pressing kisses to his head.

He was okay now. You could tell by the way his shoulders moved.

He found the strength and lifted his arms to wrap them weakly around your torso. You smiled at that and knew he was slowly getting back to normal.

After a moment you pulled away to look at him. His eyes were closed, a thin layer of sweat and his face drained of all the energy.

You grabbed a napkin from your bag to dab at his forehead, cheeks and nose. He finally opened his eyes and blinked, sighing a little at the feeling of relief.

"Harry?" You questioned and he looked at you, not saying anything and just looking. "How're you feeling now?"

He thought for a second before answering, "Okay. I'm okay".

You nodded, not insisting that he say something more. You knew it must be too difficult for him to even open his mouth.

You two sat in silence for some time, taking in the quietness of the dark room that was lit by a lamp.

"I'm feeling better now," he spoke and turned to face you.

You smiled and caressed his arm but he tugged you closer and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"A tiring day was it?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. "Too much to take in. The album, then those interviews, different performances, everything seemed a lot".

"Want me to get you a cup of tea?"

"No, please just stay".

And you did. The entire time until he felt sure enough to pull away by himself. And the smile he offered, that beautiful twitch of his lips felt like a reward for you.

"Thank you," he said softly and grinned.

"Always, H," you chuckled happily. "Oh I forgot, I got you ice cream".

His face lit up immediately as he saw the box containing his favourite flavour. "You are the best".

"I know," you winked and he laughed. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his dimple was on full display.

"I think all of the stress just got to me," he admitted. "Guess I've been worrying too much about every possible thing".

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, "Anything in particular?"

He looked at you and sighed, "I was scrolling through my phone earlier. And all I could see were these posts about celebrities breaking up with their partners and ending their relationships because it didn't seem to work out. And I got nervous by some of them". It

"About us, yeah?" You asked and he nodded his head.

"My day was already frustrating from the start and the posts just got on my nerves, making me think of every negative possibility that exists," he said and massaged his forehead.

"You remember this, Har," you said and placed your palm on his shoulder blade. "No matter what happens, no matter how many arguments, fights or disagreements we go through, I will never leave your side. I adore you too much to let you slip away just like that, you're too important to me".

He lifted his head to watch you with a certain look, his eyes examining your face with all the amount of love he could muster. From the crease of his eye to the stretch of his lips, it was all filled with affection, respect, awe and admiration.

"I love you," he whispered genuinely and all you could see in his eyes was pure love.

"I love you too," you smiled and his emotions were reflected in your gaze too.

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

#Spotify #one direction #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles comfort #harry edward styles #one direction fandom #one direction fanfiction #harry styles x reader panic attack

67 notes · View notes

fictionbish · 5 months

Text

introduction to mildred :)

hi! welcome to my page :) <3 i'm mildred (she/they) :D

❤️ i hope to become a movie director and/or screenplay writer. i love to write stories and songs/poems.

❤️ i'm taken by my favorite person in the world, and i have many close and supportive friends.

❤️ personality: annoying, depressed, ambiverted, anxious, childish, bright.

❤️ peter parker and yelena belova (no context, just hot marvel characters)

❤️ fandoms:

-marvel cinematic universe -glee -wizarding world -once upon a time -star vs. the forces of evil -heathers -the little mermaid (2023) -f•r•i•e•n•d•s -animal crossing -beetlejuice -osemanverse -mean girls -gravity falls -hamilton -high school musical: the musical: the series -frozen -tim burton -luca

❤️ current pfp: anna of arendelle <3 i played her in a production of frozen, so i feel like she's a part of me.

❤️ likes:

-musical theater -reading -music -friends -family -mutuals <;3 -daydreaming about things that will never happen -pinterest -spotify -tumblr (duh) -shopping -celebrating -road trips -disney world -the moon -late nights -facetiming my bf -journalling -scrapbooking -80s/90s/2000s movies -spiderverse <3 -books -sleep -converse -vans -roses -chandler bing -crafts -ducks -doodling -video editing -photography -tom holland -florence pugh -my 7th grade english teacher -butterflies -olivia rodrigo -conan gray -taylor swift -coldplay -radiohead -lana del rey -melanie martinez -joshua bassett -harry styles -loki -peter parker -marshmallows -strawberries -pretty dresses from fantasy movies -frogs -axolotls -tattoos -gift boxes -wolf cuts -pixie cuts -hair dye -unhinged photos -pretty nails -mini brand earrings -tony stark's father-son bond with peter parker -songwriting -cringy fandom povs -luberto -elmo -cute phone cases -bluey -pin collecting -vinyl stickers -making endless playlists -aesthetically pleasing quotes -renée rapp 🥵 -funny wallpapers -gay clothes -cool makeup -guitar music -vibrato <3 -my vocal coach -my chorus/theater teacher -the time i played pinocchio in shrek the musical -anna of arendelle (favorite role i've played)

❤️ saggitarius♐️

❤️ asexual and biromantic 🖤🩶🤍💜🩷💙💜

❤️ pda autistic and probably adhd :) #neurodivergentgoals

❤️ anxiety and depression as well :( mental health matters!!

❤️ i really just post a lot of random stuff lol whatever comes to my mind. if you follow, thank you so much! i hope we can become mutuals :D if not, that's fine, too :)

everyone have a great day 😘

#intro post #blog intro #introduction #pinned post #pinned intro #introductory post #introduction post #mildred #fictionbish #<3 #rawr #mwah #meow

4 notes · View notes

gumballavocadoharry · 1 year

Text

Harry and River;

Vaccines:

Today was River's 4 year vaccinations and I was torn between how I felt. I was nervous because I knew River would cry, but also happy because with those shots he can finally go to kindergarten. My alarm was set for 7:35 in the morning because our appointment was at 9:00 and I needed to make sure River was dressed and out the door by a half hour before 8.

I explained to River last night beforehand that he would be getting 4 shots and it would only feel like four pinches. "Can I bring rexie?" I smiled. "Of course you can my love. Rexie's gonna get his shots too cause he's a big boy dinosaur." River smiled and jumped around happily. Poor boy didn't know what he was in for. We ate a quick breakfast before leaving the house and making our way down to children's hospital.

In the parking deck, I explained to River what was going to happen and he seemed to understand but he was mostly squeezing rexie. We saw other little babies and toddlers with their parents holding their hands. I felt River let go of mine and protest that he wasn't a baby. "But you still have to hold daddy's hand, and besides I like holding your hand." River hesitantly resurfaced his hand into mine and we went across to the door.

"Want daddy to pick you up?" River thought about it before shaking his head. After seeing a what looked like 4 month old baby being held in her mother's arms, River wanted better...to be more grown up. We went inside the elevators going up to the 7th floor. I looked over to River looking at all the buildings down below that we were surpassing from going up. My curious boy wondered about the world around him.

The elevator dinged and we stepped off making a beeline to the doctor's office. I instructed for River to wait for me in the waiting room while I signed him in at the front desk. Of course River went to the toy section but I wasn't worried because it kept him busy. "Hi I'm here for a River Styles?"

The receptionist looked through her computer and confirmed. "Okay, I'll just have you sign right here." She said sliding me a clipboard from under the glass barrier in front of her desk. I slid it back once I signed it and then she had me take a seat. River and I were the only ones there so I just soaked up the peace and quiet while I could.

It wasn't until I heard another baby crying from being the door, that I realized they were probably getting they're shots too. I looked over at River who was looking towards the door. "Why is that baby crying?"

"They could be getting injections, or maybe they're hungry." After 5 minutes, the nurse called River's name and so I took his hand and we followed the nurse.

The nurse took River's weight and height and then she checked his hearing and eyes. She took him back to the exam room that was decorated with blue and yellow duck wallpaper with Winnie the Pooh stickers on the walls.

The nurse took his blood pressure and temperature. She asked him a couple questions before leaving. "The doctor will be in shortly." River fiddled with his fingers and was slightly humming and shaking his knee. He does that whenever he gets nervous. "It'll be okay Rivie, daddy's with you."

The doctor came in and checked River's heart and lungs, his stomach, his back and mouth. "Everything looks healthy. He's scheduled for 4 shots today right?" The doctor said while writing something down on his computer. "I nodded. What type are they?"

"They are his polio, meningitis, mumps and rubella. He gets the rest in the fall when he comes back."

I nodded and thanked the doctor before the nurse came in with a shot tray. The doctor left and it was just the three of us. "Okay, daddy did you wanna hold on to River's arms for me?" The nurse patted the end of the table for River to lay down. River started whimpering but I softly reassured him that he would be alright.

"It's okay baby, daddy's here. I'm just gonna hold your hands and you can squeeze them okay?" I said in my baby voice. I peppered kisses along his cheeks and whispered soft things in his ears. "It's okay bubba, daddy's got you." The nurse rubbed his thighs with alcohol wipes.

"I'll be quick honey okay?" She said gently. She injected the first needle in which erupted a cry from River. "Oh my baby, I'm here." I said softly reassuring him. I pressed repeated kisses to his cheeks over and over. "My little pumpkin. Boo Boo bear."

The nurse kept her promise of going fast because soon all 4 shots were done and over with. After she placed the bandages over his legs, I swiftly picked him and up and smothered him in kisses. "I know, I'm sorry sweetie." I said in my baby voice. "Daddy knows it hurts." River was still crying so I tried my hardest to calm him down before we went back out to the waiting room.

"Daddy's gonna kiss you Rivie," and with that I gave him a big kiss on his chubby rosy tear stained cheek. "Mmmmuah!" River was still whimpering so I continued hugging him.

"Look rexie's got his shots too!" I put some extra bandages from the tray on rexie's legs. That made River giggle a little but he was still sad. "I want you to carry me." He cried. "Okay, but remember I have to carry our stuff too so when we leave the office, you have to walk okay?"

River buried his head into my shoulder. I gently rubbed his back and we went out to the waiting room. "Have a nice day!" The receptionist said. "Thank you, you too."

I set River down so I could press the elevator button. "It's all over now, so we can get anything you want for lunch!" "Ice cream!" River said with his arms up. "That can go with your lunch. But what about tacos or burgers?"

"Oh tacos!" I laughed a little and agreed tacos would make a good lunch.

"River you were such a big boy getting your shots. And daddy's so proud of you." I bent down and gave his a kiss on the cheek and then rubbed his head. River was such a brave boy.

#harry styles #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles imagine #harry styles son #single dad harry #son #daddy's kitten #daddy's love #daddy's boy #daddy's baby #vaccines #single dad Harry styles and River

15 notes · View notes

sunnydaleherald · 2 years

Text

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, August 13th

HARMONY: Bastard. You dumped me and staked me and hurt me and left me-- SPIKE: I know, sugar, but you're forgetting one other thing I did. I missed you. HARMONY: Really? Oh! Just don't ever do that to me again. SPIKE: Oh, never, my little foam latte. Your blondie bear is here to stay. HARMONY: Well, where have you been? No, wait. Don't tell me. I'm just glad you're back. And this time, it's for good, right? SPIKE: Oh, forever and ever, mon petite creme brulée. HARMONY: Ooh. Italian.

~~The Initiative~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

The Trials and Tribulations of the Grandmaster by GlitterAngelEm (Andrew, MCU crossover, PG)

A guest at the Wayne Manor by Indra Leigh (Xander, Batman crossover, FR13)

No Controlled Circumstances Here by Jedi Buttercup (Jurassic World crossover, T/PG-13)

Hide and Seek by Alittleauthor (ex-S7 Potentials, Hellsing crossover, G)

It's Complicated by Irishrose (Buffy, Wynonna Earp and True Blood crossover, T)

Sunnydale Syndrome is an Actual Thing? by Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup) (Buffy, Faith, Jupiter Ascending crossover, T)

Freak by TheJediCat (Buffy/Spike, M)

Bring Sweet Death by Pagan Pylea Princess (trix_lyesmith) (Willow, Xander, G)

No second chance by andromeda543 (Buffy/Spike (past), G)

Sweet Little Thing by ExiledOrange334 (Buffy/Narcissa Malfoy, Harry Potter crossover, E)

[Chaptered Fiction]

A Cascade of Echoes, Chapter 3 by 3am_moonlight (MirroredIllusions on TtH) (Buffy, Stargate crossover, T)

Shadow Over Hellmouth, Chapter 69 by Tuxedo_Mark (Buffy/Tara, E)

New Sunnydale New Slayer, Chapter 15 by skargasm (Faith/Chris Argent, Teen Wolf crossover, M)

Sandy Places in Tomorrow, Chapter 26 by Raihne (Xander/Spike, M)

Clean Slate, Chapter 2 (complete!) by DarkVoid116 (Buffy/Spike, M)

Vacation with a vampire (Sequel to The Sphere), Chapter 18 by Coraline_Finn (Buffy/Spike, T)

Game Of Survival: Season One, Chapter 2 by sonnywithachanceofrollins (Cordelia/Doyle, M)

Second Chances, Chapter 25 by valorgrl (Ensemble, Stargate SG-1 crossover, T)

The Last centurion - A BTVS halloween fanfiction, Chapter 1 by TheDaggeroftheDarkOne (Ensemble, Doctor Who crossover, M)

Bring Me To Life, Chapter 60 by Jean_theGuardian (Buffy/Angel, not rated)

Encore, Chapter 15 by sweetprincipale (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Exquisite Clarity: Part 2, Chapter 8 by yellowb, sandy_s, all_choseny, sweetprincipale, acekoomboom, SzmattyCat, IceBlueRose, Dusty, Cosmic Tuesdays, Yummysushi17 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Clean Slate, Chapter 2 (complete!) by DarkVoid116 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Marriage, Sunnydale-Style, Chapter 5 by scratchmeout (Buffy/Spike, R)

Death Is Buffy's Next Great Adventure, Chapter 92 by Sharie (Buffy/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter crossover, FR15)

The Time We Had, Chapter 14 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Witch WIP by Hastily Drawn Buffy (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy/Spike by isevery0nehereverystoned (not worksafe)

Wallpaper: Souffy Forever by A strange teenage girl (worksafe)

Fanvid: Spike - The Villain by T

Fanvid: Buffyverse | Seven Nation Army by PRIYA PINEAPPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fanvid: junkie | willow rosenberg HD by AJ Writes

Fanvid: buffy summers (+ spike) | reborn by loveisntbrains

Vidlet: buffy + spike | beggin’ | spuffyeps by loveisntbrains

[Reviews & Recaps]

Finished my first ever watch of Buffy by Oshacole

Buffy Rewatch 2k22: 3.14 Bad Girls by handsofabitterman

Angel Season 5 Rewatch - #10 Soul Purpose (spoilers) by LWP

[Recs]

Vid rec: "anya jenkins being the best btvs character for 12 minutes straight" by martha russell recced by kissandships

Vid rec: "Buffy & Angel || I Fall Apart" by Tifa&Rinoa recced by oveliagirlhaditright

[Fandom Discussions]

Did Willow ever get back to college and graduate? by Confusedguytoo

if you had to kill off at least two more characters in the BtVS finale by faith-thee-slayer

Faith asking Buffy to the Homecoming dance by herinsectreflection

if spike was cursed like angel... by ourladyofsunnydale

Angel turns down opportunities to become human SO MANY TIMES, yet the myth arc character motivation for him is for him to eventually become human by questions-within-questions

How popular would Buffy had been if Whedon had stuck with his original Vampire lore? by Joshua

Man, this show is depressing continued by multiple posters

Why the hell did they make Connor a main character? by CuteFruitandPumpkin

I feel bad for Lorne by luminevity

Why are the watchers white? by plasticeuropa

Doyle on Angel by Life_Personality9172

How would the story have changed if Kendra never died? by LarinaRichards

The First - who would you like to have seen? by Sorrymomsdead

Season 6 Episode 19: Seeing Red by Slight-Definition162

Spike and William Vs Angel and Angelus by deathisimminent_234

The whiplash of "Tabula Rasa" is so...ouch by readreadreadx2

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series #ats

4 notes · View notes

haylor-stuff · 4 days

Text

like or reblog if you save

46 notes · View notes

thewestern · 8 months

Text

Chapter 13

Kitty really had to pee. (The line for the gender-agnostic bathroom ünit had stretched the length of four school buses.) Partway through the supposed performance — this rank obscenity, a mechanical minstrel — Dandy Jim’s petite lieutenant returned to fetch the Mick and his party. Escorting them back behind the brewhouse to Jaime’s private studio ünit, she assured them he would be along shortly.

For about another thirty minutes they sat in wait. By which point Grace was fucking starving. The Mick was comfortable, compared to Grace and Kitty, but nonetheless on the brink of melting down completely. Zeke meanwhile was patiently hoping their hostess would soon return. They were seated all four in a row on an obtusely angular white pleather sofa that contorted each of their very differently sized and shaped bodies.

If this was Jaime’s office, it didn’t bear much resemblance to Hank’s. For the first, there weren’t much hanging from the walls, except that thing which was mounted quite precariously on above their heads; set against an ornately patterned wallpaper depicting a playbook of acrobatic sexual positions seemingly plagiarized from the Kama Sutra or some similar text. It was a blaring neon sign with a cursive quotation:

Whoso would be a man must be a nonconformist.

- The Notorious R.W.E

Excuses are like poetry, Russ always said. They’re for pussies and nobody wants to hear them.

Across the room abutted the door frame, there stood a DIY bookcase, with shelving fashioned of salvaged skateboards, stocked with a small library of titles Kitty hadn’t heard of — Zero to One, Good to Great, Thinking Fast and Slow, Outliers, Team of Rivals, The Hard Thing About Building Hard Things, the Fountainhead, Let My People Go Surfing, Barbarian Days, How to Win Friends and Influence People, Meditations. And then one she did recognize but had not herself read — Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The wall itself was lined with green astroturf.

In place of a proper desk, there was what the Mick ascertained to have once been a door, based on the protruding knob, mail slot and door knocker. It was propped up on either side with neo-classical columns of imitation granite, and arranged lengthwise against the side wall beneath a large, trapezoidal makeup vanity. Hollywood style … you know … with the exposed light bulbs. (E.g. I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. Delano. That’s great, sweetheart. Look straight into the camera and tell the folks at home how old you are.) Behind the mirror, the wall was whiteboard, like the one Kitty used at her new school. (West Middle still had the dusty old chalkboards that probably hadn’t been replaced since well before bussing. For a fact, some years prior, a student had done a graffiti spanning the full length of the board, to commemorate the last day of school. However, since the janitorial staff had been dismissed for the summer, it would remain scrawled there until the following fall, by which point the chalk was burned into the dark green surface to an extent that it could not be completely erased. Kitty went on to teach in that very classroom, where she would be forced to write Newton’s Laws and other lessons atop the faded italicized wordmark of the band KISS, reproduced perfectly.) Somebody — Jaime, presumably — had drawn out various diagrams in the multi-coloured dry-erase markers — pie charts, histograms and line graphs, the latter all trending exponentially upwards. Then there were the chicken-scratched aphorisms Kitty couldn’t quite make out, except for the largest one that read, Gratitude Is My Superpower. The penmanship was poorer than her seventh-grade students. (From her previous gig. West Middle, that is. At SciTech, all assignments were to be completed on school-issued computer and submitted via email.)

Opposite that wall was a floor-to-ceiling portrait. The artist could be quite readily identified by his vivid color palette and screen-print anti-aesthetic. But the subject, none of them could quite make out. It was a soldier from the looks of him. Or at least by way of the uniform. Dress blues. Because this officer on deck did not have the barracks-standard issue high-and-tight haircut. No, this here warrior-beat poet — no doubt a bon vivant par excellence — had the flowing blonde locks of a flower child, with the bushy handlebar mustache to match. Accessorized by his own dandy red handkerchief, tied daintily around his neck.

The convergence of art and commercialism. Isn’t that what we’re all striving toward?

It’s more like a barreling.

Oh, come on. Take some pride. We’re part of a lineage. Walt Disney, Coco Chanel … fucking [snaps fingers three-x] … this is going to drive me crazy … who else was I literally just thinking of?

Dandy Jim had slinked in whilst their heads were turned toward the mural.

I don’t know … Fucking Elvis. You tell me, Jimmy. You’re the Creative Director. I’m just a brewer.

Almost more than the new first name, it was the roll call of titles that had stuck in the Mick’s craw.

Listen, I know it’s all a little esoteric … for the likes of you, anyway … but I don’t know … Brewmaster … it just sounded so … status quo. It’s So Good To See You, Michael, by the way. Y Kitty, mi amiga guapisima, te amo. Wow. Michael’s muse … the Brewery Girl, in the flesh. You look stunning. Seriously, girl, you haven’t aged a day.

What an asshole thing to say to a woman in her late twenties, after not having seen her for only, like, less than two years. Whatever benefit of the doubt she was willing to afford Jaime was rapidly depleting with every Spanglish word he spoke.

And who are these lovely folks? My sincerest apologies if we’ve already met. Jaime Delano. Welcome … seriously, welcome.

Something about the way Jaime said seriously. He gesticulated his hospitality by bowing at the neck and holding his hands together in self-observance. Where and when did he acquire all these mannerisms?

Well, J, in point of fact, these are your replacements. Meet Grace and Zeke.

The Mick wouldn’t normally feel compelled to speak on their behalf, but in this instance he was overcome by a protective instinct. Also, he wanted to remind Jimmy there had been a time, not so long ago actually, before he coronated himself King of Shit Mountain, here.

Ohh … okayy. Very sick. You guys are learning from the best. And believe you me, being a Newfy alumni goes a long way in this industry, unless you’re Michael and you never leave … I’m teasing. Genuinely, I feel so much gratitude for having the Newfy as part of my Founder Story. It seems like forever ago, doesn’t it?

Only been about two years actually.

Kitty couldn’t resist to reset the record.

Is that all? Time fucking flies. I mean, can you believe how much all this has grown? I’ve actually been meaning to get you guys over here for the full #eXperience. Couldn’t have picked a better night, amirite? So fire.

Oh yea, fucking totally. So Was that how come you sicked your lawyer dogs on us then? So we’d come see your fireworks show?

By now, the Mick was hot-sweating mad at Jaime, who fanned the flames by pretending not to have the slightest clue why.

Oh my goodness, y’all. I completely forgot. It’s just been so busy around here. Never a dull moment, you know? Listen, on some real, I’m sorry to have run up on you like that, all litigious and shit. Speaking as a friend, I didn’t mean any malice by it. Just some strategic maneuvering. Kitty, I’m sure you of all people would understand.

Yeah, well, what did you mean by it? Because what it felt to me was about a pretty damn good bushwhacking, Jimmy.

I know. I know. The optics were less than ideal. But, truly, my hands were tied, dude. Honestly we’ve never collab’d with a music brand of this magnitude legacy and audience reach, not to mention two simultaneously. I mean, who would have thought song licensing would be such a hornet’s nest. Anyway, their people had some concerns that there could be some confusion in the marketplace vis-a-vis I know You Ridah versus Rider, Pale Ale. And since Hank never had it copyrighted …

Hold on just a goddamn second, man. You know well and good we’ve been out here brewing R,PA long since before any of this bullshit.

Oh, for sure. But try to understand where I’m coming from is … that it technically doesn’t matter. Who was First, technically. That’s the whole reason there is such a thing as the fast follower advantage.

Demuredly, Dandy Jim shrugged using only the muscles in his face in such a way that made the Mick want to punch it oh so very fucking badly.

But don’t worry. We’re not going to make you rename or discontinue R,PA or anything. Trust me when I say, player … it’s all good. I would never do a Day One like that. The way the lawyers explained it to me, it’s really just more of a pre-warning, legally speaking.

I’m sorry? What’s a pre-warning?

You know … a pre-warning … the warning before the warning, legally speaking. Like establishing a trademark precedent, or whatever-the-fuck. Seriously, bro, don’t sweat it. I’m pretty sure they just wanted to prevent any future IP disputes. I might have mentioned that you guys are into the whole Grateful Dead Thing. Speaking for myself, that was never really my wave, as you know. The whole Jamming thing, I mean. Besides, it pains me to say, but rock is played out, dawg. Guitar music in general, actually.

Dandy Jim spoke with some authority on endangered musical genres. During his brief, wholly unremarkable tenure as the Mick’s assistant brewer, he moonlighted as the backup vocalist and lead bassist of a post-hardcore musical outfit by the name of Some Pulp, a fringe player in the already fringe DIY scene. Upon their breaking up, citing Creative Differences, Jaime embarked further still into the harmonic hinterland on a solo career as quite possibly the world’s only craft beer-centric battle rapper. This under the nom de guerre, Hip Humulus Lupulus. He had invited his at-the-time mentor on more than one occasion to come and see him compete, and as a matter of course the Mick curtly declined. (This despite Kitty urging him to please, relent, and generally to be more congenial with his colleagues, or at the very least courteous.) In truth, Jaime never forgave the Mick for missing the time he narrowly lost his quarter-final matchup to the eventual runner-up finisher, Heavy Flow, who was herself widely credited with breaking the glass ceiling of the old fuccbois club that was competitive battle rapping at that time. (Coincidentally she was also a future acquaintance of Grace.)

So when they offered me Garcia, I was like cool, cool, whatever. I mean, I feel you. Purely a nostalgia play. Has to be a pass from me, unfortunately. Space ships don’t come equipped with rearview mirrors, you know what I’m saying? But, yo, when they came through with Pac? … I mean, fuck, man. One of the absolute OGs, of the rap game. Know what I’m saying, big dawg?

Here he was addressing Zeke, who still hadn’t any idea about, nor concern for what this person was saying, because his momentary one true love had at last returned.

Dutifully, she handed Jaime a water bottle and white towel, as if he himself had just finished performing posthumously.

I pray the homegirl Anna Leigh has been keeping y’all company? Seriously, she’s a fucking rockstar. I’m being serious. The brains of #x_brüing, right here, for real, on some real shit.

Anna Leigh was her name, and how pretty a name it was.

Unbeknownst to Zeke, Grace was picking up strong sexual tension flowing in one direction from Jaime to his #eXectuive assistant. This came as a surprise to Grace, because for one thing they looked way too much alike to be sexually compatible. Of course they in the lesbian community had a name for this phenotype: Dopplebanger — [noun] slang term for a gay woman who exclusively dates other women who look like her. (Grace was certainly open to the possibility; although, alas, she hadn’t found anybody pretty as her, as of yet.) For another, Grace was also picking up major Do Me Vibes, being put down in her general direction by way of the lovely Miss Anna Leigh. This would have come at quite a shock to Zeke, who was completely unawares of the homosexual encounter unfolding right before his eyes, as he was currently well on the way convincing himself that he and this person were put Planet Earth solely for each other. For a post-modern man so susceptible to the perils of a work crush, Zeke was at somewhat of a numbers disadvantage, being how women were so woefully underrepresented in the craft beer industry. Grace meanwhile was taking full advantage of a statistical anomaly, how among that relatively small female workforce, gay women indexed considerably higher per capita, than say in the population of duly employed persons at-large. Go fucking figure.

I don’t get it. Then what was with the Village Person? The cowboy?

Only Kitty could be depended upon to keep this detente on the rails. It cannot be understated, how much she really had to pee. Anna Leigh interjected.

Oh my god, do you mean Carl? Aww … isn’t he just the cutest? He’s an actual dairy farmer. We sell him our spent grain to feed his cows. You guys, we love Carl! Like, actually, I’m obsessed. We thought about hiring like some guy online to do it, but Carl is always asking about odd jobs to earn extra cash so we paid him fifty bucks. How freaking adorable is that? Like can you believe he’s even real?

Hey Jaime, do you have a banana or energy bar back here I could borrow?

Anna Leigh was about to offer to order Grace something from the tapas ünit before the Mick interrupted on her behalf.

No time, G. We’re leaving. There’s a bag of pretzel sticks in the car. Jimmy … what the fuck, man? Do I need to lawyer up here, or are we cool?

Whoa, Michael … relax. Of course, we’re cool, bro. AL, what’s our core value #two at #x_brüing?

No Assholes Allowed, Jaime.

Russ used to say assholes are like poetry, but Mick couldn’t remember how come.

You already know, girl. Our douchebag policy is zero tolerance. And best believe that shit’s serious, because we made it our second guiding principle.

What’s number three? Grace asked.

Be a Rockstar. Anna Leigh answered.

What about the first one? This was Zeke asking.

Do the Work, Jaime said with bravado.

How many are there? Kitty now.

Seventeen. Anna Leigh again.

Which is your favorite? The Mick, heat checking.

If I had to choose just one, it’s probably #eleven. Anna Leigh accounted earnestly. Think Macro\Live Micro. It’s all about how innovating — the truly big changes — happen in small increments: microchips, micro-dosing…

Micro penises. Grace interjected, looking directly at Jaime, who averted her gaze, glancing sheepishly down and to the left. Anna Leigh blushed.

Whelp, that’s our culture.

And taking you to court would constitute an asshole move, Michael. That’s why I’m not going to do it, even though I’ve been advised by counsel that we have an exceedingly legitimate case. Trust me, you don’t want to see Schuster or Shanker on the plaintiff end of a deposition table. So look man, as a good faith favor to you, I’ll talk to the legal folks and we’ll get this thing squashed. But listen, while I’ve got you here, I was wondering what’s the word on the new production facility.

Now Kitty could see what this was really about. For a fact, it was so patently obvious, even the Mick could see Jaime’s play.

Yeah, well, what about it?

Just that since you broke ground, what’s it been, a year?

Been about two years, actually.

Bonus point to Kitty for her attention to detail.

Two years. Sounds like some serious growing pains. I know that game.

What’s your angle, Jimmy?

Mich-ael. Always about that business. That’s what I love about you, my guy. Alright, I’ll hit you with the straight dope. I know you’re taking the L on this. Not to throw any shade, just … well it just so happens that we’re anticipating somewhat of a L of our own. Not that kind of L, because you already know we stay winning. L as in L is for Liquidity, like a liquidity event, projecting by end of fiscal year. So, in the spirit of helping a true ride or die out, let me buy you out. Of the production facility.

Sold.

Whoa. Just like that? Are you tripping, Michael? I haven’t even named my price.

Don’t bother. If it’s enough to recoup whatever Hank had us losing on that deal by a half, you can have the whole goddamn thing. What do you think, Kitty? Can we make it work, in terms of money?

In terms of money? Um, I don’t see why not.

You hear that, Jim. You got yourself a deal.

And a halfway-done boondoggle of a buildout, he thought to himself. The Mick exercised the restraint to withhold from gloating. This was the first and best deal he would ever make. All it took was a partner with even less business sense than he had, and boy was Dandy fucking Jim his huckleberry. At that the Mick extended his hand. He was of half a mind to spit in it. Now the tables had turned, and Jimmy was on his back foot, shoeless.

Hold up, hold up. Let’s slow our rolls for just a sec, Mike. How do I know you’re not trying to play me? It’s not a fucking superfund site, is it?

I’ll level with you, James. Production, distribution, the whole expansion … that was Hank’s vision. Now that he’s gone, I’d just assume have you see it through. I don’t think Hank would mind and I wouldn’t much care if he did, on of account of his being dead.

Presumably.

Now that you mention it — Hank I mean … well, I’m sorry is all. I was going to say something earlier. Hank was like an uncle to me. Real talk.

The Mick did not acknowledge Dandy’s attempt at contrition. Even if it rang surprisingly true, Hank’s being like an uncle to him. Hell, he was like an uncle to us all.

K. But I still don’t fully buy this out-of-the-goodness-of-my-heart bullshit. What’s your angle? Wait, wait … don’t fucking tell me. Fuuck, dude. Is this about you finally doing that thing … fucking Spontaneous Fermentation, right? Holy shit … it is, isn’t it? Back on your Belgian bullshit. You’re crazy for that one, Michael. I mean that’s some truly out there stuff. You do you, though, you know what I mean? But for real though, how long are we talking … grain-to-glass? Three years? Even with the whole wild yeast, au natural thing — which don’t get me wrong, it plays, from a branding standpoint— just, it doesn’t scale, is all I’m saying. Brewer to brewer.

Maybe. But then don’t things have a way of balancing themselves out in the end?

No, I don’t believe they do.

Kitty reckoned this to be the first true thing Jaime had said, apart from the thing about Hank being like an uncle, which had also resonated with her.

I don’t get you, Michael. Why do you practice brewing, I mean. What’s your Why? Like do you have an exit? An end game? A liquidity event? Maybe you are just Johnny fucking Appleseed, punching a clock — and best of fucking luck with that — but still, I know you’re no fucking dummy, and you’ve been around enough to know in this Beer Shit you’re growing or you’re dying. If you want a dependable career and a steady income, go sell software with those mooks out there.

Here Jaime was referring to his customer base. Zeke often wondered what it was all these people did when they weren’t hanging out in breweries, drinking six-dollar beers on a Sunday afternoon. Lawyers and doctors were his best guesses. Or maybe they worked at the bank. He couldn’t quite figure. His dad installed drywall, and someday so would he, at least he’d always assumed. Now here he was, the second person in his family to go to college and the first to drop out. A Social Media and Events Coordinator. Sitting in a room where there was no drywall to speak of.

The Mick answered honestly.

I don’t know why I make beer, Jim. Just lucky, I guess. Maybe because by now I don’t know how to do anything else. At least not nothing that pays.

He wasn’t being modest. Really, the Mick didn’t know how to do very much. Brewing was the only steady gig he’d ever had. (Previously he had held down a summer job as a caddie at a local country club, the members of which were rich dickheads to a fucking man. He would entertain himself by performing subtle acts of civil disobedience, such as giving his players too short of yardages on their approach shots.) Jaime on the other hand was a serial career switcher. He was cagey about his pre-beer days, but word was he’d tried his hand at the dramatic arts. Acting. Beside booking a local television commercial for a regional chain of furniture warehouses though, he’d mostly had to settle for print work. When Wade and Winona first heard tell of his male modeling past they took a short intermission from watching Internet videos of hockey fights and dash cam-POV car wrecks to dig up a cheeky, black-and-white photo spread of the then James Dean Delano (the Dean was a bit of a show biz fib … Jaime bore no relation to the late teen icon — his real middle name was Drury, after his maternal grandmother’s maiden). In the picture, a sexy lady was using a vacuum to suck off his t-shirt. She’ll Be Happier … when he helps around the house. Whether or not it rose to meet the standards of irony, the campaign had been intended as a playfully feminist twist on the sexist practice of advertising home goods to housewives in the postwar suburban boom period. Maybe it goes without saying that the reference was lost on the Mick, he who had always happily done the vacuuming in his household. Every couple Sundays he’d get thermo nuclear-stoned, crank up his noise-canceling headphones to eleven and fucking regulate. As chores went, it was one of his most favourite. Ma’am, I assure you, he’d kid to Kitty, holding up the hose. This thing sucks.

Okay, I see you. I didn’t choose this life, this life chose me, type of thing. Respect, Mick. You know we should collab on something. For Hank.

Wait, what about you? Why do you make beer?

Against her better judgement, Kitty asked Jaime, although she had been genuinely curious. Accompanied by a look that said, well obviously, what else could it be, he responded:

For the benefit of all mankind.

Upon hearing this, Kitty legit peed her pants.

#novls of tumblr #wildcat

0 notes