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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

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haikyuu boys as expecting fathers

characters: TimeSkip!Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Kōtarō, & Ushijima Wakatoshi, all with a Fem!Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnant reader and mentions of having a baby so pls be mindful if this makes you dysphoric or if you’re not in a good headspace for it. But otherwise, it’s all fluff so I hope it makes you guys smile!

a/n: everyone around me irl is having babies so here is the result of that LOL i love cute stories about expecting families and shit. All of these are obviously with TimeSkip! characters! And none of the following gifs are mine so credits to the original creators! Hope you guys like it :)

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Tsukishima loves to tease the shit out of you, and that hasn’t really changed since you started getting bigger. But now, he’ll hide your cravings in the top shelves of the pantry so you have to make him come get it. He can’t help it, it’s that angry pouty look in your eyes - he’s so in love with you, even when you look like you’re about to murder him.

But despite him hiding everything you could possibly crave, he is an absolute sweetheart. He calls his mom every now and then to update her about you and the baby, probably asks about what she liked when she was pregnant. She tells him stories about liking to read to him and his brother, or how she enjoyed a nice bath if she was particularly sore that day. She even joked that she found it really hard to put her shoes on so typically she just wore slippers or easy to slip on shoes.

Cut to the next day, you wake up to Tsukishima reading a book of dinosaur facts to your belly. He’s not so much reading it as he is disputing and/or explaining further the facts that are written in it. He doesn’t notice you wake up while he waves away the book and states, “It’s fine. When you’re here, I’ll just bring you to my museum and I’ll show you in person. I can sneak you out of daycare, just don’t tell your mom.”

You had hoped to be able to keep your independence for longer than this, but found yourself struggling to properly put on your shoes. You huffed, muttering something to your unborn kid about how you’d hold this over their heads forever, and just waddled about with the backs of your shoes folded under your heel. Tsukishima raised an eyebrow as he noticed, waiting for you to sit down in the car before holding the door open and bending down to properly put your shoes on.

“Kei, what’re you doing?” You laughed, watching him swiftly tie up your laces. “They’re fine, they’re old shoes anyways.”

“If you wear your shoes like that, you’ll fall and hurt yourself,” he shrugged. “I can’t have you hurting the little Tsukishima just because you can’t put your shoes on.”

His expression was the same plain emotionless face as usual, but you smiled anyways because here he was, kneeling in front of you and helping you with what is supposed to be a simple task.

The day went on as usual, but you definitely weren’t prepared for your husband to call you into the bathroom and display the little bath he had drawn you with your favourite candle lit.

“Did you do something?” You asked him with narrow eyes, making him scoff.

He rolled his eyes, helping you out of your clothes gently, “Am I really such a bad husband that you think I’d have to be feeling guilty to be nice to you?”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding playfully, “Yup. So what did you do?” You laugh and he just flicks your forehead before helping you into the tub.

You watch as he smirks a bit, holding your chin for a second and watching your eyes, “Well I’m the reason you got knocked up so I supposed I have to take care of you don’t I?”

He doesn’t hold that sultry teasing look on his face for too long, especially when you splash him with water, drenching every part of him you could reach 😂.

Bokuto is in a PANIC the closer you get to the due date. You once just felt a bit tired after vacuuming and the boy thought you holding your front meant you were going into early labour.

“I’VE GOT THE CAR KEYS BUT I CAN’T FIND MY WALLET!!! BABE HAVE YOU SEEN NY WALLET? I CAN’T REMEMBER WHERE I PUT IT. OMG WHAT IF THEY WONT TAKE US IN. WHAT IF THERE ARE SO MANY BABIES BEING BORN WE CANT GET IN. I KNEW I SHOULD’VE TAKEN A CLASS ON BIRTHING BABIES!”

You let him run around because he honestly is so entertaining to watch while panicking. He pouts about it later, talking shit about you to your belly, “Your mom’s a big meanie. You need to be born quick so we can team up on her okay?”

“Kōtarō! Don’t you dare try to turn my baby against me!” You laughed, swatting at his head.

Man is overly prepared for any sort of situation. He already set up all the safety baby measures, like corner cushions and outlet covers, though now he’s considering locking up all the knives into a cupboard.

“Kōtarō... how am are supposed to cook like this?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the lack of your sharp cooking knives.. and the butter knives.

The grown man just poured some more, “I gotta keep both my babies safe alright? I’ll cut everything for you so you don’t cut yourself.”

Except for the fact that Bokuto is definitely more accident prone than you are and has a few bandaids on his fingers now.

As an expecting dad, Bokuto found himself getting more and more teary eyed at any situation that involved a family or a baby. Whether that was just seeing kids and families play in the park that the two of you walked past sometimes, or seeing a commercial for diapers with happy bouncy babies, you would turn to see a misty-eyed Bokuto who would then turn to you and wrap you in a tight squeeze.

He was beyond excited at this point to meet your little baby - he wanted to know what they would look like. The perfect mix between the most perfect woman in the world and him, who was pretty cool thank you very much. This baby was going to be the cutest most amazing kid ever, who would definitely play a really great game of volleyball, Bokuto was sure of it.

Let’s be honest though, pregnancy is not an easy journey. Bokuto loved seeing you grow the baby but he knew that it was a difficult process for you. You were always sore and at the beginning you were always sick. And there were some days where you literally didn’t feel attractive or beautiful at all, but Bokuto would praise you as high as he always did regardless.

“You are the most perfect lady I have ever laid eyes on. The most gorgeous being to ever walk this universe!” He told you one day, pressing kisses all over your face as you laid across a couch.

“Thanks,” you tried to give him a smile - you always appreciated his compliments, even if you didn’t necessarily agree.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you with a small frown, noting your forced smile.

“I just… feel bleh. Not at all like how you’re saying I look,” you admitted with a small smile.

Bokuto’s eyes grew wide in shock, jumping over the couch to sit down on the floor next to you. He clasped your hands in his, pressing kissing to them gently as well. “I know you might not feel it… but I hope you know that I still think it. I don’t even have to force it. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and that hasn’t changed even though your body is changing a bit. I don’t need you to wear the most perfect makeup or the best dress for me to think you’re gorgeous. You’re perfect just laying here in my old sweats and I’m happy that I get to come home to see you like this every day,” he grinned, touching your cheek affectionately.

You loved this man. He was so sweet to you in every way possible. But sometimes…. sometimes his sweetness just went a little too overboard. You tried to insist to him that you were pregnant but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. Man refuses to let you do anything for yourself. No lifting boxes, no lifting anything in fear that you might hurt your back.

“Kōtarō, it’s just my purse,” you tried to point out in a laugh, trying to reach it as he held it above your head.

“Nope! Not happening. What if you hurt yourself?”

“... with my purse?”

“Ya!”

“Kōtarō, I have to go shopping for food or we won’t have anything to eat. And baby needs to eat!”

“Well I’ll come with you then!”

“You’ve got practice!”

“It’s fine, I’ll tell them I’ll practice another time! My perfect wife and baby come first,” he’d grin at you and insist on opening all the doors as you two made your way to the car. You fall in love with this man more and more every day, even if he keeps stealing things from your hands.

Ushijima is a really nervous new dad, even if you can’t really tell from his stoic expression. He listens intently to all of the parenting advice people give, bought a few books about newborns, and has hundreds of tabs on his laptop of ranging topics from baby products people insist are necessary, mommy blogs about what is important to do when pregnant, and research that he doesn’t quite understand but feels is important nonetheless.

Ushijima isn’t necessarily a man of words all the time, so you were surprised to find that he started to talk a lot more after finding out that your child could hear him.

“You don’t have to play volleyball if you don’t want to,” he told them quietly one day while the two of you were on the couch. It came so out of the blue that you actually thought he was talking to you.

“Hm?”

“... do you think they’d want to play volleyball?” He asked you sheepishly, glancing at you with a shy expression.

You thought about it for a moment and slowly started to smile, “Well they’ll be attending every single one of your games so I’m sure they’ll be at least interested in learning!”

Ushijima nodded and you watched as a soft smile graced his face. You kept your eyes on him for just a moment longer, seeing a flicker of uncertainty on him.

“Wakatoshi, don’t you dare think for one second you’ll be a bad dad,” you warned him, poking his side and making him jump from surprised.

He stared at you for a moment, blinking, “You know what I’m thinking?”

“I know that you’ve been worried about being a good dad ever since I told you I was pregnant. I know that you’re nervous about being the kind of dad you always wanted to have growing up. I know because I’m terrified of being a good mom too,” you admitted with a nervous sort of smile, interlacing your fingers together. “We’ll be okay together though.”

Ushijima nodded and hummed softly, “We’ll have to take them to France.”

“France??”

“Satori wants to meet them too. He said he would make them chocolate.”

It wouldn’t just be the baby that Satori is constantly trying to spoil, but you as well. He sends over packages of his chocolate for you to try, grinning ear to ear when you call him for a catch-up call.

“Do you like them?” Tendō asked, and you could hear him humming to himself as he moved around a kitchen.

“I love them! But you’re going to make us fat if you keep sending them! They’re much too yummy for me to stop eating!” You laughed, eyes wandering to the kitchen where you knew you still had a few bits of his chocolate left.

“No no no no. I’m just trying to make sure your baby is a cute healthy plump baby! They’ll grow nice and strong!”

It always made you smile, knowing that all these people who loved your husband wanted to love you and the baby as well. Even Ushijima’s new teammates would come by and bring snacks or anything they thought might aid you in your pregnancy. Though, Kageyama wasn’t really sure what pregnant people or babies liked, so he just brought a whole bag of the milk boxes he liked.

“You’ve got to grow big and strong so that I can defeat you in volleyball one day. I can’t defeat your dad right now… cause he’s on my team. But I’ll defeat an Ushijima one day for sure,” he muttered to your belly with a fierce intensity in your eyes that made you laugh, making his ears turn red as he realized that you also heard him (Kageyama, the baby is attached to her, of course she heard you lol).

As it neared your due date, Ushijima prepared himself mentally every passing day. He wanted to be 110% ready so he went over your birthing plan mentally at least 10 times a day and reread over all the articles and information he had gathered over the months. He wanted to be the best father possible, but you insisted to him that you weren’t worried about this at all. After all, he was already the best husband you could ever have asked for.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#bokuto x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!

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pixiedoodlein · 3 years

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I’m so fucking mad that a year and a half into this pandemic I am back to 11th hour debating another year of homeschool. The first stretch of homeschool, in NYC, when the toddler was a baby, and husband was home on unemployment, was good, nice even, a quiet piece of something good when the world outside was falling apart. The next stretch, the Oklahoma stretch, with a particularly climby toddler, husband working 10 hour days, me doing remote contract work, somewhere we had no family around to help w/ childcare, was challenging. I was not always my best self. Some days were delightful, muffins and math games. Other days I was more Miss Trunchbull than Miss Honey, fractions were squeezed in between crying (usually mine) and netflix (way too much of hers), and I held on to any shred of sanity by telling myself “just a little longer, just until the vaccines.”

Well here we are. Husband & I have been vaccinated for months, but the kids aren’t yet. The upstate NY town we moved to is a very small town (pop: 838), was mostly untouched by previous waves. When we got here, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so lax about it- no masks, no panic. Our first day here, when I came home from the market and saw through the window a gaggle of unmasked kids in my living room (the neighbors coming to welcome us, they heard a kid moved in) I almost had a heart attack. In fact, I was so tired from the drive from OKC that for a moment I actually thought I was at the wrong house, that I was hallucinating, because how in the world could there be unmasked bodies in my living room.

Then I started talking to people here. And I realized that the way I thought they were insane for not being deathly afraid of covid, they thought I was insane for being petrified. Because the disease hadn’t hit here; their businesses were destroyed and their kids were out of school (in a rural area with barely functional internet, remote school = a lost year) and their lives were totally fucked up, for a disease that never arrived at their doorstep. I came to understand why they weren’t worried, why here life looked (almost) normal. I told them about what it was like to live somewhere covid tore through, the freezer trucks of bodies on the FDR Drive and my previously healthy 27yld brother so sick with it the first spring he thought he was about to die (but too scared to go to a hospital), my dad’s relative in the next NYC wave on a vent for months and lucky to be alive but may never walk again, the doctors in OKC pleading on the news to please wear a fucking mask because the hospitals were fucking full, and the neighbors stopped thinking I was psycho when I carried extra masks for their kids, and made them put them on, when I took them to town for ice cream. I never stopped masking. But we did indoor dine here (once, BBQ, it wasn’t delicious enough for how anxious I felt) and I did bring all the kids, including my toddler, to a fairly crowded children’s museum in the big (small) city an hour away, where the rest of us were masked but the one with his hands in his mouth, who was all up in other kids’ faces, the one who really should be masked, wasn’t because he won’t leave it on for more than a minute.

Actually it’s a lie to say that I never stopped masking- I have dashed into little stores here, without one, because I’m vaxed! It’s safe here! Covid felt done. We had friends come here to visit this summer. Friends who are vaxed, but that doesn’t seem to really matter enough anymore. We had the neighbors over for meals, indoors (you see, more indoor dining! A minute ago I was just thinking restaurants, but why would plagues only spread in restaurants?). They had us for meals. The girls are a crew, new best friends, making my daughter’s life here so, so much happier, constant sleepovers (their kids were at our house this afternoon; my kid is at their house right now). The parents and grandparents are wonderful, making my life here, and husband’s life here, so much easier, so much better. We help them with stuff, they help us with stuff, there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t see each other, unmasked. Some of the adults in their household are vaxed; some of the adults in their household are not. The kids are all too young to be vaxed. But it (living, doing shit again, seeing people again) really stopped feeling scary; it really felt like everything was fine, normal-ish, normal-er. The end of the pandemic felt in sight.

I signed my child up for school here. Real school, not mommy school, school with a school bus. She was a little anxious, I had to talk her into it, I sold it hard, I bought her whatever pair of new sneakers she wanted for her new school (she hasn’t had gym class in a year and a half; for a phase in Oklahoma she wore one boot and one sandal every day, why not). She wasn’t anxious about sneakers or covid; she was anxious that maybe she hadn’t learned enough in homeschool (I am not a teacher! I did not homeschool because I am good at it or love it or wanted to, I homeschooled because I was scared of her getting covid at school and dying), that she would be behind. She isn’t behind. I followed the real school curriculum as best I could (as in: sometimes totally and sometimes not at all), and somehow, when I gave her the standardized “real school” test “at the end of the year” (aka the day I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to focus on my work or I wasn’t going to have an income, the day I’d decided we’d done as much as we could and it was time to be done), she sailed through it, this kid is smart. Smart as in needs to be in actual real fucking school to stay smart and learn and reach her potential.

She got excited- one of the neighbor kids is in her grade. The other kid is older- but the school is small, she’d see her tons. She was excited; I was excited. I registered her for school. Her new teacher sent a nice note. We all were excited. She’s never taken the school bus before but the neighbors take it and she’d be fine on the bus with her besties, the bus would pick her up in front of their house since there’s nowhere to turn around up our hill (we are VERY rural), they’d all get on and off the bus together. She has been backpack shopping. We have been discussing what she’ll have for breakfast (honey nut Cheerios), what she wants me to pack for lunch (she says just Goldfish, I say turkey sandwich, we’re working on it).

But now, 18 days before school starts here, I am thisclose to pulling her out, to embarking on another lovely (not), gratifying (not) year of homeschool, because of covid, delta. When we got to our new home in our new tiny town in June, there was no covid here. Now, our county is listed by the CDC as a high transmission area (is there anywhere in the US that isn’t?). 80% of senior citizens here are vaxed; 50% of the total population is, well below the national average. 15 cases per 100,000, in a county of 100,000. I guess this is less rampant than our previous pandemic locales, NYC (currently 25/100K), OKC (49/100K). This is splitting hairs, everywhere is bad. This is what panic does to me: are we better or worse for every decision we’ve made in the past year and a half, every decision that got us here? There are fewer cases here but fewer people and fewer vaccinated people and fewer ICU beds. We aren’t safe even here, but at least we are happy (happy aside from fear of delta death).

I don’t know whether to send my kid to school in 18 days. There will be masks but masks aren’t enough (how many masks do I make her wear? two, ten, a thousand?). This choice feels crazy— in March 2020, when that covid was mostly sparing kids, I yanked her out of school. Now, this covid does hurt kids. How much longer, how many more years, can parents be in this position to make this nightmare choice? What will hurt her more: school or no school? There are vaccines, more than enough in America. We shouldn’t be having to make this choice.

As it is, because of toddler— not because of toddler, because of being a parent to children in a pandemic— my work life, and husband’s, will be severely impacted this year, again. I can’t send him to daycare because he’s too little to leave a mask on (he won’t even leave his pants on!) in a room full of other unmasked toddlers, whose families may or may not be vaxd, may or may not wear masks (there has been a noticeable increase in supermarket mask wearing since we got here, but still not enough, is any of it enough?), may or may not be going to parties and weddings and funerals, daycare providers who may or may not be doing all the same. This means I can only apply to remote jobs, so I can be home with him. Husband has some flexibility, more than he did in OKC, but god forbid he has to work while I have a work call or meeting or work due I didn’t manage to get done at 4am or 11pm when the house is quiet. He can’t bring toddler to work with him, his work is up on scaffold, stenciling ceilings. This will be another year of me muting myself on Zooms while toddler pulls his diaper off and hurls poop at the cat. Would it really be so much harder to also be trying to teach parts of speech to our daughter at the same time? Yes, it would, but I don’t know if I can send my kids back out into the world until they’re vaccinated. I am counting the days, holding my breath, until they can be.

I used to believe in personal choice. I don’t anymore. I want this shit to be mandated, I want the government to line us up and force mRNA into holdouts’ arms, I want it to be required, to be able to function in and interact with and benefit from society in any way, shape, or form. I have been very lucky in the pandemic. Privilege stacked on privilege on privilege, to be fussing over my Zooms in my hamlet. I had been pretty pandemic perky, baking my pies and playing with my pandemic pets and (thinking about) doing puzzles, but I’ve reached my breaking point. This shit could be done, but it’s not, and I’m scared it never will be.

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heloflor · 3 years

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So, given that I didn’t have much time to work on fics recently because school, I’ve decided to relieve some stress by making a random representation of how I imagine Cavendish and Dakota’s house in their time-period looks like. And since I have no plans to ever describe it in detail in a fic, here it is ! Though, given how bad I am with designs, showing the house is mostly an excuse to infodump on domestic headcanons.

Regarding the last names, I didn’t make a typo for Cav. I like to imagine the two getting married way before the events of the show, with Cav taking “Dakota” as a last name, mostly because he got several siblings in-law on the Dakota side who adopted him on the spot.

And about the representation of the house : yeah it looks like shit. Since I can’t draw, I’ve decided to do something rather quick using MSPaint but yeah, not the best thing in the world. Though, if I get back to playing the Sims 3 at some point and end up making a Dwampyverse savefile, I’ll most likely try to recreate that house and could share a few pics.

I also went with a rectangular house with one floor instead of some futuristic-looking thing, mostly because I have no imagination when it comes to design. Though, you could still use the excuse that they want something more “old-timey” given their job or that they don’t have all the money of the world so they chose a simple house for the small cost. But yeah, by the end of the day, the choice is mostly because I can’t design shit.

But still one thing in my defense : looking at episodes that take place in the future like “Missing Milo” or “First Impressions”, it seems that most buildings are square-y with the roof being the weirdly-shaped part, with B.O.T.T. being one of the few exceptions. And looking at “A Christmas Peril”, the buildings are definitely more wacky but it’s 20 years later so…

I could also mention that I’m a bit unsatisfied with how empty the living-room and the bedroom ended up being but I’m drawing a total blank when trying to come up with the kind of stuff Vinnie and Balth would have that are linked to their interests. Though, maybe the excuse of them not being often at the house works ? Idk. Let’s just say I have ideas for the “basic” stuff, aka what you find in basically every single middle-class house, but draw a complete blank for anything that’s decorative. Still posting a map of the house tho because I don’t really consider it a work in progress if I simply have no idea and may never do. I’m very bad at design so bear with me on that one ! It’s not only about the house, it’s also about the fluffy headcanons !

So here’s under the cut some random info about the look of the rooms and furniture + a bunch of headcanons regarding Vinnie and Balth’s lives in this house. For each part of the house, you first have the info about how it looks first and then the headcanons.

Those headcanons are made with the idea that Vinnie and Balth are married (duh) but also, for a few, that Vinnie has three siblings + a few in-laws that he has a good relationship with.

(very long post ahead)

General :

- They bought the house in 2162, 2 years after getting married.

- It’s in the suburbs, or at least what the future version of the suburbs would look like. In other words, the presence of a backyard is debatable.

- There could be a garage for their time vehicle, so that they don’t have to go to headquarters every single day. And if not an actual garage, there’s at least some space to put it. In both cases, it would be near the bedroom’s side of the house.

- While the walls outside would have that futuristic “metallic” look, the walls inside would be a bit warmer. At the very least, the inside isn’t “future metallic white”, especially with Vinnie having photophobia.

- The intensity of the lights in every room can be adjusted. That way, Vinnie can put the dimmest light and navigate the house without his glasses. This is mostly useful for showering and midnight snacks.

- When they went house-hunting, Balth was the one who insisted that they needed a place with those kinds of lights. This is also the same kind of lights that Vinnie had in his now-former apartment.

- You know how near the end of the episode “First Impressions” you have Balth going into Mr. Block’s office ? Well, the way the door opens in that moment is how the door opens for every room of the house, perhaps excluding the main entrance (I like the idea of their front door being an “old” one, aka the “normal” doors we have today).

- Every room would have a spot that can create “tactile panels”, like some holographic tablet that can be used to change the settings of the house, for example changing the lights or the internet or even lock the doors and blinds.

- In 2175, when they were forced to leave the future, Vinnie stole a device from B.O.T.T. that made him able to create some kind of forcefield around the house that only he and Balth can remove. So, even if they’re not there anymore, the house still is theirs and can’t be sold to anyone else. And before you ask why B.O.T.T. didn’t simply send agents to bring the duo back and force them to open the shield : the forcefield works with hand-scan detection and Vinnie convinced Balth to use their left hands, the hands with the wedding rings. So if time-agents come knocking, they could try convincing the agents to let them use the bathroom first and they could wash their hands and use the soap to remove the rings. That way, the scan wouldn’t work and the agents would have no way of knowing why.

Living room :

- There’s more furniture than showed here like souvenirs from previous missions or some random stuff that belongs to them. I just don’t have enough imagination. : /

- Likewise, the corridor has a few pictures or posters, like pictures that Vinnie didn’t have the space to put in his memory room but still wanted to display. Also, I want to say that Vinnie would display pictures of his family (sibling, in-laws and nephews) but I’ll see him more as having an album for family pictures, or a framed picture on his nightstand.

- There could definitely be a carpet or two. They would either be modern ones to fit the fact that they’re from the future or vintage stuff found in some of their missions. One of the carpets would be under the coffee table. Another would be in the big-ass space between the living-room and the kitchen, or in the corridor.

- The style is a mix between old and new stuff, with also a few things related to their interests. Like, for example, the couch could have an animal pattern or something (AND BY THAT I DON’T MEAN REAL ANIMAL FUR).

- Speaking of the couch, after looking up “futuristic couch” on the internet, they would absolutely have one of those gigantic couches that have like a bed attached to them due to how big they are. Btw I have no idea which company came up with this design and I couldn’t care less. It’s just that the design looks cool and would fit a futuristic house.

- The side table is a floating square, given how we see in “A Christmas Peril” that tables in the future don’t have feet anymore (that’s one way to protect your toes).

- The floor lamp is more futuristic. It’s like a white orb attached to a lamp foot.

- The TV is attached to the wall. The remote is some kind of holographic tablet, kind of like the house settings thingy.

- This is where Balth would spend most of his mornings and evenings when they stay home. He’d just be sitting with a cup of tea, most of the time also a book, with the sun illuminating the room, just feeling comfortable and peaceful. The side table/cube was bought specifically for Balth’s tea. He would also use the lamp while reading in the late evening, either for the peace of having little to no light and solely focusing on the book or as a way for Vinnie to be in the room with the lights at the lowest setting. And speaking of Vinnie, he would sometimes join his husband on the couch, lying down with his head resting on Balth’s legs (cue Vinnie falling asleep, leading to a frustrated Balth who needs to pee but doesn’t want to wake him up).

- Since there’s a mini-table for when Balth drinks tea, the table right in front of the couch is mostly used for Vinnie to rest his legs on.

- And speaking of fluffy headcanons : movie nights. From time to time, aka minimum once a month, probably more, the couple would be in their pajamas cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, with Dennis resting in Balth’s arms.

For the movie choices, Balth would choose science-fiction, especially if there are any Professor-Time-themed movies, but also historical fiction (for some reason I tend to see Balth as having a liking for history ? I think it’s because of the way he dresses + his small rant about pirates in “Game Night” ? Idk honestly. It’s mostly a random headcanon that’s here for some weird reason). As for Vinnie, it’s mostly animal documentaries (Balth falls asleep halfway through but Vinnie doesn’t notice until after it’s over) or animated/family movies (the future equivalent of D*sney, S*ny pitcures, P*xar etc. Which are movies Balth would enjoy as well). For some weird reason I’ll also see the two of them being into mystery movies (crime-solving movies basically).

And if they sometimes decide to watch other genres, I could see Balth having a liking for some romance movies, because for some reason I like the idea of Balth being sappy. Besides, the guy is passionate when it comes to proving himself at his jobs and takes them pretty seriously in order to reach his objective. And given how he can be insecure and sometimes feels like a ball of anxiety, who’s to say he isn’t passionate when it comes to love too ? And no, I don’t mean passionate as in “making out all the time”, I mean passionate as in taking relationships seriously and making it work while also wishing to make sure his partner knows that he’s loved, even if Balth isn’t really the best at expressing his affection all the time.

On a different note, to get back to other genres : Vinnie would probably like horror movies. Because if cuddling in front of a sappy movie is great, having your husband show his love and trust for you by clinging to your arm out of fear is even better, nevermind the fact that you’re as terrified as he is.

Kitchen :

- It’s one of those kitchens with two walls of cupboards/cabinets, both on the ground and elevated. One of the cabinets is used entirely for snacks. Because Vinnie.

- The wall separating the kitchen and the living room “has a hole in it”. It’s like you have a small wall with cupboards, a hole, and a wall connected to the ceiling with a few cabinets. Basically, you look up “kitchen cupboards” and imagine that the space in-between is a hole instead of the wall (why is it so hard to explain something so simple ?).

- This would be the most futuristic-looking room of their house. Looking up at references, they’re that Pinterest post showing a room with white cabinets with round corners and what seems to be slide doors. This is pretty much how I’ll see their kitchen, except bigger, with a different wall color and with one wall not being here (see above).

- The table is floating because of course it does. The chairs don’t tho. Also the chairs are as futuristic as the rest of the room. And looking up the internet again, the chairs are shaped like chairs.

- So I put a stove but tbh I’m not sure how much these two would cook, given how in the show they’re always seen eating out (granted they don’t have a kitchen in their ‘apartment’ in Milo’s time). And given how most things seem automatized in the future, let’s just assume that the house can do most of the cooking itself with like a robot (aka plot-convenience technology) but still needs the necessary furniture and ingredients for the recipes. Also, if there’s an issue with their cooking system, they’ll probably know a few recipes and can feed themselves (Vinnie’s oldest brother Enzie would definitely teach his younger siblings a few recipes, at least enough to survive on their own. And he would be more than happy to teach his brother in-law as well).

- I put 4 chairs at the table but honestly I could see them keep 2 at all times and put the others in the storage room, especially the times they get very busy with their job for a few weeks and don’t have the time for social life.

- At some point, Balth probably tried to convince Vinnie to have better food habits and tried to put his snacks on the higher shelves. Not only did it not work because chairs exist but also it led to Vinnie getting frustrated. So Balth dropped it. Though, he would still try to talk Vinnie into working out to stay rather healthy.

Memories room :

- Vinnie’s personal space. He basically saw the third biggest room of the house and went “mine now” and Balth had no issue letting him have it (hard to say no when Vinnie’s eyes shine like that).

- He already had a memory room in his old apartment.

- Basically, Vinnie brings back souvenirs from his missions, along with pictures he took, and put them on display. For more information, I made a post about it a while ago, so check it out if you want info on it.

And side note : I learned more about ADHD and autism later on and found out that the correct word for Vinnie’s passion for animals is a special interest, not a hyperfixation. The main difference between the two terms is how long your interest last. The reason I used “hyperfixation” in my post is because 1. I didn’t know that “special interest” was a term that existed and 2. people with ADHD kept talking about having hyperfixations and most people see Vinnie as having ADHD. So yeah, my bad for using the wrong term. And while I won’t change the current text from my post, especially with someone in the notes correcting me (I don’t want them to look like an idiot), I’ll definitely add a few words at the end of the post about it.

- This is where Vinnie spends most of his time when at home, trying to keep the room in the best condition.

- There’s a window in the room but Vinnie condemned it in case some of his souvenirs were sensitive to the sunlight.

- The room is made entirely of shelves, with like four-five rows on the same wall. The shelves are either integrated into the walls or they’re floating because future. In any cases, there’s nothing around the shelves, it’s just shelves with stuff on it.

- When you enter the room, one of the rows of shelves next to you has all the animal-related stuff he gathered before starting a relationship with Balth. The rest of the room can have a few animal-themed objects but the pictures tend to be more linked to him and Balth.

- Likewise, when you enter the room, on the shelf you’re immediately facing, there’s a miniature recreation of their wedding altar with their wedding picture in its center. The miniature is made out of the future equivalent of papier-mâché and the altar is themed around time-travel with objects from all kinds of time-periods and cultures. And for those who might ask regarding the picture : Vinnie has a black suit and carries the bouquet while Balth has a white suit. Both have a hat that’s basically Balth’s usual hat (with the Professor-Time goggles, because themed wedding) but colored like their respective suit.

Balthazar’s office :

- The room has quite a few libraries but this is mostly decorations. Basically, this room is more of an 1800th century study than anything, especially a rich/royal study. Yeah, for some reason I see Balth as having an office that’s just “rich 1800th century” aesthetic. I think it’s from the headcanon of him being a runaway prince 🤔.

- So yeah. The bookcases are vintage, the piano is your usual black piano, the armchairs are vintage and tbh Balth almost never uses them because he’d rather read in the living room, and the desk is vintage, though the stuff on the desk is futuristic. Balth is up to date with the technology he’s using to work, he just likes the older aesthetic for the rest.

- On his desk, despite literally living with the guy, Balth has a framed picture of Vinnie (again, I want the stubborn gay disaster to be sappy from time to time, with his love language being small touches and attention to details like for example being able to quickly see the kinds of foods Vinnie like the most so that when he’s in a bad mood, Balth can get him that specific food to make it better ; or learning Vinnie’s body language to know when he’s upset or bothered by something).

- Balth mostly spends his time here to make the reports on their missions or work some administration stuff when needed. When he isn’t at his desk, he’s there to play the piano.

And yes, I throw out the window that line from “Backwards to School Night” that indicates Vinnie doesn’t know about Balth playing piano but tbh I ignore or question quite a few things from this episode such as : the line indicating that Vinnie and Balth don’t live together in their time-period since Balth doesn’t know Vinnie’s weekend habits ; the line about how the ray thing age you down to 90% your current age and yet baby Vinnie seems younger than the parents despite his adult self seeming older; the fact that Melissa read a book 16 times in the span of 6 minutes ; the fact that it’s called a “age regressor ray” and not a “age regressor ray-inator” (seriously, I am the only one always expecting Vinnie to say “inator” and being disappointed when he doesn’t ?).

- The couple absolutely sing songs together with Balth playing the piano. Or at least Vinnie would sing a song in the middle of the living-room and have Balth be annoyed by it, only for Vinnie to hear Balth play the same song on the piano later and join him.

Bathroom :

- Not much to say here. It’s a bathroom. It’s futuristic-looking. The mirror is a cabinet. The tub is round. The bin comes in and out of the wall. The clothes drier also irons the clothes. The toilet is glued to the wall. The walls are dark gray or dark blue or at least a darker color so that Vinnie doesn’t have to dim the lights to the lowest level when he’s showering. There are also several little lights along with a main one so that Vinnie can light the small ones instead of getting a headache due to the brighter light. During lazy/slow days, Balth would take baths instead of showers (and Vinnie would want to join him to make out). Balth may or may not sing in the shower (Vinnie definitely does). That’s pretty much it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Guest/Storage room :

- Only used as a guest room when one or several members of the Dakota family are visiting the states and end up in the Tri-State-Area. So for 90% of the time, the room is used as storage.

- Bed’s not that big and very “squary”. Might or might not be floating.

- It’s mostly random junk that they don’t know where to put and don’t want to get rid of, like some stuff they got from their missions but that Vinnie doesn’t want in his room or some old things they want to give at a garage sale or that one Professor-Time body-pillow that Balth refuses to let go of while Vinnie just wants to trash the thing. The body-pillow being in the storage room in a junkpile was their compromise on the issue. Also, whenever someone might stay in the room, Balth makes sure there’s no way they will find the body-pillow (his sister in-law Bettie would never let him live it down).

- Not much to say here either aside from that.

Master bedroom (the room in which the proportions are way bigger than the rest of the house because I have no idea what I’m doing) :

- I described the room quickly in my fic “nightmares” but yeah basically the room has several posters and pictures related to their interests, along with a bookshelf full of animal encyclopedias, time-travel facts, history books, Professor-Time fantasy books etc. There are also albums, whether it be family pictures or album of the two of them.

- Like for the living-room, there can definitely be more than what I described/pictured here. I’m just really bad at imagining the kind of stuff people would have in their bedrooms related to their interests. And speaking of which : at some point, there was the aquarium that Vinnie mentions in “Time Out”.

- Unlike the other rooms in which the windows have roller blinds (apparently that’s the english word for it ?), this one has curtains on top of it because Balth likes to open the window in the morning but he doesn’t want Vinnie to hurt his eyes. So with curtains, he can open them enough to light the room but not enough for the light to reach Vinnie’s face.

- The bed is pretty classic for a futuristic bed but with round edges and these two idiots definitely go crazy with the sheets design (animals, food, Professor-Time, past time-periods, stuff like that). Also, the bed is “open”. By that I mean that, if you look at futuristic designs, there tends to be some roof thing above the bed and linked to it. They wouldn’t have that.

- The nightstands are floating cubes.

- “Dennis’ chair” is just some random old wooden chair where Dennis stays most of the time. Balth almost never takes him during his missions and Dennis is a comfort object that Balth mostly talks to when sitting on the bed, movie nights aside. So the bear stays in the bedroom.

- The bookshelf would also be made of wood.

- The wardrobe is futuristic, with doors that can open by themselves with sensory detection. Also, unlike what that poor “drawing” shows, the wardrobe is “taller” than it is “larger”.

- The armchair is an egg chair.

- They sleep

- They spoon

- Balth is the big spoon because 1. he’s taller and 2. he grew up sleeping while embracing a teddy bear and old habits die hard.

- When Balth goes to sleep or wakes up, he can’t help but play with Vinnie’s hair and give the small man a few kisses, feeling satisfaction in seeing his husband smile or try to pull away while laughing.

- Vinnie sleeps on the side closest to the window while Balth sleeps on the side nearest to Dennis.

- Balth’s nightstand has an alarm clock that’s basically just a holographic square with numbers on it, while Vinnie has an album or some random animal trinket. Vinnie’s alarm clock is not feeling Balth’s warmth against him. But if Vinnie has to use an actual alarm, the sound would either be some old-fashioned song or an animal noise (is this starting to get too much insistence on the “animal-loving” side of him ?)

- While Balth likes to read in the living-room, Vinnies likes it better to chill in the bedroom when reading. Also, during weekends and vacation days, Balth would sometimes read in bed before sleeping (yeah for some reason I really like the idea of Balth being a reader. I think it has to do with him being old or british ??? Weird brain is weird. And besides, if Balth reads, it would most likely be science fiction related to Professor Time). Vinnie uses this time as an excuse to cuddle.

- They have themed pajamas. Balth mostly has Professor-Time stuff (clocks, Heinz or Perry’s faces etc) while Vinnie has mostly animal-themed or food-themed pajamas.

- Vinnie sometimes sleeps naked in the summer. Balth is still trying to figure out how he feels about that.

- Random headcanon regarding Dennis : while he belongs to Balth who keeps him close when in doubt in order to vent or when he wants to get comfortable somewhere, I actually like to believe that, between the two, Vinnie is the one who talks the most to Dennis, mostly because Vinnie would just enter the bedroom and casually greet the bear, or he and Balth would have a dumb argument and Vinnie would playfully tell Dennis “Can you believe that guy ?” while pointing at Balth. Just, Vinnie being Vinnie and having random one-sided conversations with the bear.

And a little cute thing : while Vinnie really just talked to Dennis because why not, seeing the guy like the teddy bear so much would actually make Balth feel better about himself. I like to believe that grown-up men having plushies would still be seen as a ridiculous thing by most people (because toxic masculinity) and Balth got the habit of hiding Dennis when he was still trying to find the right guy for him. So seeing Vinnie have no issue whatsoever with the teddy bear and even liking him would definitely help Balth’s confidence, along with warming his heart.

- And since this post is all about headcanons : two things about phones and these two being sappy that have nothing to do with houses.

1. One day, Balth left his phone on a table and Vinnie decided to take a selfie with it because why not. After seeing that, Balth acted frustrated but ended up putting the pic as his phone background. Ever since, Balth’s phone background is a picture of Vinnie. The most recent one is from “We’re Going to the Zoo” with a picture of Vinnie holding squirrels in his arms while a third one is coming out of his pistachios-filled pants. The pic on the phone is a closeup, only showing Vinnie’s head and upper body. And for those who like angst, I’ll let you imagine how he must have felt having this as his phone background during the rogue arc.

2. Vinnie’s (numeric) phone password is 2703, aka march 27, the date of his wedding anniversary. The day is put first and the month second because Europe. Also, during busy weeks, this would be a good way for Vinnie to remember the anniversary.

(fun fact : I was trying to come up with scenarios for fics when I ended up thinking about Vinnie’s password and that number came to mind. So I just went “guess that’s their wedding date now”)

#Milo Murphy's Law #Vinnie Dakota #Balthazar Cavendish #Dakavendish #long post #VERY long post #headcanons #Flor talks #hey look I'm rambling again about random shit #I am SO. BAD. at design #but yeah #have a house #and random ideas #also have Balthazar Dakota #it sounds more and more normal when you think about it a lot #also Dennis Cavendish #or is it Dennis Cavendish-Dakota ?#now to edit the memory room post

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

Text

The one with the New Year’s Eve

characters: HARRYxMODEL Y/N

blurb: It’s Dec 31st, 2020 and this is the first time since they started dating that Harry and Model Y/n won’t be traveling for New Year’s Eve but an outing to the Rockfeller Center may be all they needed.

word count: 4.6K

author’s note: HI GUYS!!!! So first of all I wanna say MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone🥳🥳 I know I've been MIA BUT I had a major writer's block and it felt so bad and I couldn't finish this blurb even though I was trying so hard. Anyway, here it is and I hope you like it as much as I do. I also want to say that the reason why I closed my requests it's because we're starting a new year and I want to release all of my requests before receiving new ones. I'm excited for 2021 and I hope it brings all the peace that 2020 didn't. And I'm also very excited to see where 2021 will take Harry and Model Y/N's relationship🥰 Anyway, Happy New Year everyone, I'm so grateful for the support I've been receiving about my writing. I see all of you and I appreciate all of you. THANK YOU!!!♥️♥️♥️♥️

— Can I wear this? — You’d ask looking at Harry while holding one of his dress shirts that was light bluely, with some navy blue strands in it up in the air showing it to him. It's an old shirt, though. You remember buying it for Harry in your first year of dating and you also remember probably wearing it more than Harry himself.

Harry was sitting by the couch on the living room of your NYC apartment. After spending such a magical time with your families in the French Alps, you both decided that spending christmas with your family was more of a priority than going on your annual new year's trip and that's the reason why you and Harry decided to come back to the USA and after being in LA for so long, New York just felt like the perfect choice. You like Los Angeles, but New York hit different. You loved everything about NY, and you loved the memories and story you created to yourself in NY and that's why you'd choose NY over LA without thinking twice.

Anyway, Harry was in the couch using his personal phone what made you assume that he's probably talking to his mom or Gemma because it's already 2021 in London and Cheshire, and unlike him, you had already sent Gemma and Anne a text earlier today because they knew that you took hours to get ready even though you're not even preparing to be "glamurous".

Harry had his pink velvet pants on and a white shirt over it, and only complementing with his vans. Not the old "white" one with the pink shoelaces that he wore everywhere, including in the Vogue cover. Tonight he was wearing the good traditional vans. That one, that is black and have the Vans icon in white. And you couldn't smell from the spot you were but you could assure yourself that he was smelling like heaven, as he always does with his perfect hair that has just been washed, his freshly shaved beard and his nails, that even though wasn't painted by a professional, you can be proud of your job and honestly, so could Harry, because he really loved that you did his nails for him and even matched with yours. Otherwise, you were using a black baggy jeans and a bra because as always, you were procrastinating for too much time and had to get ready when Harry was already ready. A typical night out for both of you.

Harry lifted his head to analyze your figure in front of him and the cloth piece you had in your hands as he listened to your voice and question directed at him.

— Sure! — He answered your question getting his attention back to his phone right after speaking. You sighed and calmly walked towards the man on the couch and sit besides him what brought his attention to you. You rested your right hand upon his thigh and then rested your chin on his right shoulder and stared at the boys captivating green eyes.

— You're alright? — You asked with a low voice tone giving the boy a tender smile. Harry looked kinda sad, not sad, he seemed a bit down and whenever you noticed he looked like this you would usually get worried about him because you just care and love him so much that you never want to see him in anyway but happy.

— Yeah, I am! — Harry said, but it sounded more like a whisper or a murmur and you kept your gaze at him waiting for him to tell the truth and he sighed letting out a chuckle. Sometimes he'd just forget about how great you knew him. He'd look to his feet upon the grey carpet of your living room and then back at your face on his shoulder — Just feel bad, ye' know? If we were in other circumstances we'd be with our friends or family having the most fun in some place around the world — He'd tell you as he widens his eyes a little and you felt his muscles tense under your hands — It's not that I won't have fun just with you, love — He'd now complement making you let out a small chuckle at his words because of course you understood exactly what he was saying even though you didn't say anything yet — It's just different, like, there won't be having any shows by the Times Square and all that stuff and I wanted it to be fun for you.

— So...you're worried about me not having fun tonight? — You'd ask him with an ironic tone and raised eyebrows lifting your chin from his shoulder and staring at his face. Your mocking expression and tone was based on the irony f the situation because earlier today you were talking to him about how most of the times that you were together you just felt like you could be stuck in a room with him forever and it would be the funniest thing you've ever done.

— Kinda! — He'd murmur deflecting his gaze from yours until he listened to you let out a giggle which made him look immediately at you as he tried to understand why you were laughing and if you were mocking at him for being that worried about something very silly.

— Harry...how could you even think that? I’ll always have fun with you! — You'd say lively with a smile on your lips and then take a deep breath while you finished forming the words you were about to say in your mind — It's been such a long and hard year and we had some amazing moments and some really bad moments but we're here. We're alive, we're healthy and most of all, we're here together and believe me, even if the world ends by the time that clock turns midnight, there's no other person I'd rather spend the end of the world with — You'd say making a little fun of the "end of the world" conspiracy that you've read previously on that same day and couldn't help giggling with Harry as you'd hear that same angelic sound coming from his mouth. You'd take your hand that was upon his thigh and grab his hand taking it to your lips giving a slight kiss to it feeling the cold metals of his rings against your cheeks and then you gave him a tender smile — Don't worry about it, it'll be great! It will be more than great, it'll be exquisite!

— Alright, alright! — Harry'd say with the cutest smile on his face. That type of smile that you could feel his happiness through it. Now he took your hand to his lips and gave a peck in it — You should finish getting ready though, weren't you the one that was dying for pizza and burgers? — Harry’d tell you mocking at the fact that you've been talking about wanting to eat pizza and burgers from NYC for the past three days in a row and how annoying you were being about it. And with his comment you'd fastly stand up with the shirt in your hands and look at him with a cheeky smile in your face.

— I'll go, I'm sorry for being the best girlfriend in the world and use my time to comfort you! — You'd say ironically as you walked back to the bedroom listening Harry's laugh and a "You're forgiven" being loudly said by your boyfriend.

— By the way, I don't think you should go out only with that shirt because it’s freezing outside! — Harry said on a loud tone from the living room and you'd look up to the big glass window in your bedroom and realizes that he was right. It was probably 32 °F outside and only this shirt wouldn't make you warm enough, so you'd walk to the closet placed in your bedroom and take a dark grey long sleeve blouse and dress up before complementing with Harry's dress shirt and taking out of the closet your brand new leather jacket that you gained from Gemma on christmas day, remembering how perfect it was becase Gemma knows you well enough to know that you'd love it when she bought it. And lastly, you put on shoes that looks more like boots. And finally, with your jacket and your bag in your hand you walked into the living room after turning off the bedroom light.

You were completely ready when you'd step in the living room with your phone in your hand getting all the attention from Harry that immidietely stoped using his phone to admire you. One of the things that Harry most loved in you is that you don't need to put on the most glamurous outfit or makeup to look stunning and you knew that. You knew that you were beautiful in your own way and if you felt like glamming up, you'd be gorgeous and if you didn't feel like it, you'd still be gorgeous. Harry admired your tomboy styled outfit. He'd admire how your hair fell upon your face as you finished typing on your phone and how you'd use your hand to put a strand of hair behind your ear, giving to him the vision of your gold earrings that was also a previous birthday gift from him. He'd admire the fact that both of your nails were painted the same color because you only had one good nail polish to use so you'd go out matching nails color. He'd admire how the delicate golden rings on your fingers would sparkle because of the light in the room and he'd notice too how your face looked pretty with the small amount of makeup you had putten on your face for the night and he could only imagine how great you smelled now with the one perfume you use since the day he met you and he'd remember how much he loves that scent. He loved everything about you. He loved even the small things about you that stressed the shit out of him. He learned to love your annoying habits just as much as he loved the precious little things about you.

Harry would stand up from the couch putting his phone on the inner pocket of his black coat as he walked towards your distracted self on the phone. You'd only notice him when he'd stop right beside you looking at your figure. You'd stop looking at the screen of your phone and lift your head up a bit to see the man's smiley face beside you. He was silent and it seemed awkward so you'd let out a chuckle and frown a little at him.

— What are you doing? — You'd ask him holding a mistrusting look on your face as you waited for him to pronouce anything as a response.

— I just think that you look really pretty and I love you! And your hair looks really pretty, though — Harry would say quietly with a tender smile on his face as he listened you murmur a "aw, thank you, love!" with the biggest smile on your lips. He knew how much you loved when he compliments your hair so he'd do it often just to make you smile this big. He'd use his hands to cup your face and lean in a little to give you a peck in the lips — Let's get going! Where do you want to go first?

— Honestly, I wish we went to The Greens at Pier 17 because it looked really cute this year in the pics I saw — You'd tell him as both of you walked towards the door and left the apartment walking to the elevator as you both put on your masks. Your apartment was situated in East Village so depending on the place you'd choose to go, it would take you a while to get there and that's the reason why neither of you had enough patience to drive in NYC, specially on a night like this one because the traffic in New York can be considerated out of this world.

— Isn't it open? — Harry would ask pressing the elevator button to take you to the lobby of the building and feel as the elevator started to go down with both of you in it.

— No, it was between 6 and 10pm, I guess! — You said pressing your back agaisnt the elevator wall as you felt it going down. It's crazy, but whenever you enter a elevator you think about what would happen if it starts collapsing, yes, it's weird — But all I want is to eat a pizza from East Village Pizza because I haven't eaten it in ages — You'd complement letting out a chuckle feeling the elevator stops at the lobby floor.

— Alright, we can go eat pizza and just hang out! Will you be meeting Bella? — Harry said as the elevator door opened giving both of you the iluminated vision of the streets lights coming through the big glasses in the front of the building. You and Harry walked past the porter and both of you smile at him and waved before leaving. You both are very familiar to Toby, the porter of your building and that's the reason why you'd wish him a Happy New Year before leaving, and you also have lived in this building in the past 5 years probably.

— No, she’ll spend it with her family. They’ll all spend it together because of the baby, I guess — You'd answer him feeling the freezing air run through the skin of your face at the moment you'd step in the street. You'd notice the wet floor underneath you because it rained the entire morning and the beginning of the afternoon, there was no resting sign of the snow that happened some days ago but you could definetly still notice the past rain, specially because of all the christmas lights that iluminated the streets now.

You and Harry walked your way to the East Village Pizza because it was really close to your house which at this moment seems amazing but it's not. It takes you a lot of control to not dine their pizza everyday though. Pizza it's pizza, if you don't like pizza you can't even be consideraded a human being, just saying.

You and Harry could notice the few people leaving their houses as you walked, and some of them were already by the streets though. The thing is that the big New Year's Eve attraction in New York is the Ball Drop in Times Square and this year is not allowed to have a crowd in there so the streets wasn't completely crowed and honestly that made you feel a little better. It's just that paranoic feeling that when you're around a lot of people you start thinking that one of them is infected, probably everyone during this pandemic had felt like this at some point.

By the moment you and Harry arrived at the pizzeria and ordered your slices of pizza Harry couldn't hold back his laughs at your liveliness that you also couldn't hold back for finally eating your pizza. The place wasn't as crowed as it used to be at this time of the night and that's why you and Harry could take a sit in one of their empty tables. You and him would talk about silly things. You both would talk about the ending of Gossip Girl that you had just watched this afternoon because it was shocking to both of you. You'd talk about the songs you just added at your playlist and you'd talk about what you wanted to do tomorrow on the first day of the year.

— I don't accept any other plan that you can make but if it's to stay cuddling in bed with me all day, love — Harry would say and you'd giggle at his words. He had a point though, because you couldn't imagine anything better to do tomorrow than stay cuddled up in bed under the heavy blankets with him all day long; maybe watching a movie or starting a new tv show together as you just finished gossip girl, you'd probably starts Bridgerton because you have already read the books and you loved it. And then take as many naps as you wanted. It sounded perfect and he knew you just couldn't resist to it.

It didn't take too much for both of you to eat your pizza slices and as you ate it, Harry would take tons of photos from you all smiley eating your pizza while dancing to a random song that was playing in the background of the pizzeria. Harry loved to take random pics of you and he'd do it everytime he had a chance, which was quite often. But he did it because this way, whenever he was away and his heart ached missing you, he could go on his gallery and see all the random pics he has from you and in some way feel closer to his girl and god, so did you. Even though none of you shared the millions of photos you'd have of each other's in your phones, it felt so good to have them with you whenever you needed it to make your hearts warmer.

...

— Alright but, do you think that Brad and Angelina slept together before or after he and Jen "broke up"? — You'd randomly ask Harry as you both left the cab that was taking both of you to the Rockefeller Center because a walk from East Village to Rockefeller Center would be a hell of a walk. You both felt the christmas lights on your faces and your eyes were glowing because of them and you couldn't think of a prettier thing in this moment. It wasn't your plan to celebrate the New Year's Eve in New York and actually, the last time you've celebrated it in this city was about four years about before you even met Harry. And honestly, it just feel really cool to go ice skating in Rockfeller Center and then later go dinner somewhere and starts 2021 with a person that you really loved and appreciate on a city that you really loved, and maybe this wasn't what you planned but it was what you needed.

— They definetely were! — Harry said almost immidietely making you let out a loud laugh over his comment. You love when Harry gets into his gossiping mode, it's probably the best thing ever. He doesn't do it much when he's sober, but when he's drunk he'd just say everything you ask him and that's usually really funny, expect for sometimes when he'd tell things that are supposed to be a secret — Just look at their movie together. You could see the sexual tension and no one will convice me otherwise!

— I know but he had a sexual tension with all his co-stars! Don't you remember Legends of the fall? He had a sexual tension with his brother's fiancé that later marries his other brother — You'd argue back to him as making your point. You and Harry are definetely the "Netflix & Chill" type of couple, and as in quarantine you stayed home, you and Harry watched tons of movies on netflix and you'd always take your time to discuss them pretty often. Movies, music and books are the things that fullfill both of your souls the most and that's the reason why you'd often get caught up on discussing the things you've saw.

— It wasn't sexual tension, it was chemistry. It's different, love! — Harry'd argue back throwing his arm upon your shoulders as you both walked closer to the small line of people that were waiting to go ice skating. And you'd stop walking as realizing that you and him just arrived at the right spot and as you waited on the line of the ice skating, you had your back pressed on Harry's chest as he hugged you from behind to take the cold away as you talked. It was a nice time where you could just catch up about your thoughts while admiring the christmas lights and the people on the rink, and if you must confess, laugh a little about the people that couldn't ice skate. Harry told you about his plans to release the Treat People with Kindness music video tomorrow and talked about working with Phoebe Waller-Bridge and had to deal with your drama about not meeting her for what it seems like the millionth time, but you did make it pretty clear to him that you were so excited about the video because you haven't watched it yet because you wanted it to be a new year's surprise to you. You told him about how you missed walking the runaway and everything you want to do in 2021 in your professional career and also personal life, like the books and movies you wanted to read and watch and the places you wanted to visit.

Anyway, it didn't take you long to get on the ice skating rink, and it also didn't take you more than two minutes to start regretting it. You were clearly not the best skater in the world. You weren't even 50% good; reasonable, would be the right term. And so, when you didn’t have the ability to move gracefully and lightly across the ice, and instead had to skate by holding on to the bars or Harry's arm and then after, having Harry insisting on trying to let you skate alone and then having you to crash into on the floor, Harry couldn't help but laugh. The boy laughed so hard, in a way where he couldn't even breathe properly from laughing so much, and you couldn't contain your own laughs either. Of course, Harry helped you up and then asked you a thousand times if you were okay and you hadn't been hurt, but the scene was just too fun at the moment not to laugh and you'd admit it.

At around 11:20 pm, you both retired from the skating rink as your time was up and then, you walked away from the short line to the ice skating rink getting a little far away from the line. You used your right hand to move some strands of hair from your face as Harry carefully looked at you.

— You're sure you're alright? — Harry asked one last time making you glare at him with an annoyed look at your face becase he had already asked this about forty times now. He'd shrug his shoulders and put his hands inside the pockets of his black coat — Alright, you're fine.

— I am, love! — You said wrapping your arms around yourself while moving your head to look around you before getting your gaze to focus on Harry's face again — Should we go to a restaurant? Because it's almost midnight! — You asked Harry that looked the time as he took his phone off his pocket to see that the clock indicated the time to be 11:25 pm.

— Yeah let's go! And it's cold here! — He'd say wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both started to walk again. The things is that near Rockefeller Center, there was plenty of cool and great restaurants that of course you had no idea if they were or not open but it didn't cost you to go check and that's why you'd walk around it to see — Oh, let's go to Bill's Bar and Burger. I want nachos and fries so bad — Harry would say as he stopped walking abruptly in front of the restaurant making you to gaze at the place and then at him.

— Oh my god, yes! — You'd nod at him as you both walked inside the place. You've been in it before and the menu was spectacular, the burgers were so amazing and the place was really cool, though. It had a dark wooden floor and tables and big glass windows that gave you the perfect vision from outside and at the moment you both entered the space you noticed that it wasn't extremely crowed but it had a few people. The televisions in the walls transmitted the Times Square New Year's Eve performances and you sat at the table in the corner of the wall with a padded accent.

You'd take a look at the menu and order. Harry'd order a alcoholic beverage, unlike you that'd go with a coke because if your boyfriend went wasted you needed to take him home and take a 6'0 foot taller man home after few drinks can be quite hard. You'd order fries and nachos for Harry because he just eats fish now and then orders a chicken burger for you and then some milkshakes because you were going to eat all that you wanted as it was the last day of the year.

While your orders were being prepared, you and Harry talked about the christmas trip with your families and how funny it was. You'd talk about how the hell could you both forget about the christmas presents and how thank god you could find good new presents in the last minute. Harry would probably tell you about a life story of his starting by "in my epoch" sounding like he was forty years older than you because he knows that this pissed you off. He's three years older. It's not like it's a lifetime. But you'd find fun on his stories, just like he does to yours because even though you're younger than him, you both came from different sides of the world. From completely different families and cultures and it's so cool to share your experiences with each other. With the time, you and Harry learned that everyone had something to add in your life. Something about art, or about bad feelings or good feelings. Something about love, about friendship and jobs and opportunities. You both would reflect about how you just find things and people in life that makes you whole. You grow older and start noticing what really matters. You and Harry always travel on New Year and this year you didn't and being there, on a bar in New York just with each other having the most fun as you shared your stories, made you realize that it's not about the trip or the journey. It's about the person you have on your side as you doing those things. It's about having someone that you love at your side to share the good and the bad and after a hard year, you're lucky for having each other and getting out of it stronger than ever.

When the countdown started, everyone in the bar starting to count as well. You used your phone to record both you and Harry as you both counted. The camera caught the big smile perfectly that you and Harry had on your faces, and it actually caught the cheese from the french fries that Harry was previously eating right in the corner of his mouth but we don't have to focus on this part just yet. When the clock turned midnight, the entire bar screamed happily and you and Harry turned to each other with the happiest smiles ever, hugging each other sharing the "Happy New Year" and then sharing your first kiss of 2021, just as you both did three years ago when the clock turned midnight entering 2018 and you both shared the first kiss of your life. You've been kissing since then.

#hwrryscherry #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #harry x reader #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

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allie1804-fan · 4 years

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Please Assist Me (Chapter 19)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Ch6apter 10 , Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 , Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18

She Said

Back in LA, I found myself home schooling again as Covid was seeing another surge and there was still no vaccine on the horizon. It was definitely a struggle not having Keanu there in my regular day to day life especially as I still had to deal with the downsides associated with being his girlfriend – like not having my social media fix and getting photographed looking like shit while doing the grocery shopping!

The memory of that day alone together in New York was seared in my brain; And it either helped me get through, looking forward to having him home again or made things 50 times worse because it reminded me how much I missed him.

After the amazing sex and snoozing, we’d headed to a café for brunch then spent a couple of hours walking in the park. We weren’t bothered by any fans or photographers and we were just able to enjoy a relaxing time together. It was what we needed after the tension that was there because of the whole publicity issue. And the sex had left us physically relaxed too. We talked about plans for later in the year after John Wick 4 filming had concluded. There would be a 3 week spell of filming in New York then another 3 week shoot in Russia before heading back to New York to finish for a couple more months. The Russia slot had changed due to some problem with permissions to use a specific city which was why they had to break up the New York shoot.

I found myself far more stressed by the renewed lockdown and home schooling this second time around – I think I’d just got too used to Keanu being around so it was like readjusting to being a single parent yet again and I definitely had a shorter fuse.

Keanu came home for a couple of days between the New York and Russia shoots and unfortunately I took out the tension I was feeling on him. He came straight to my house from the airport, exhausted from the shoot where they’d tried to get ahead of themselves so had been doing 12-16 hour days. He’d accumulated a pile of dirty laundry which he asked if I wouldn’t mind doing.

“What? You couldn’t get hotel services to deal with this?” I snapped

“Come on, I’ve been working 6 til 10 every day this week, I just forgot” he pleaded.

“Whatever!”

Later I apologised to him. I put it down to having just had two consecutive school days that week which was exhausting physically and mentally and I’d been a bit under the weather. He forgave me but there were a couple more tense moments before he went to Russia.

The car to take him to the airport was due soon and he gathered his bags and then pulled me close. I didn’t want to let him go.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been such a bitch!” I grovelled, looking up into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Hey, it’s OK, I know it’s tough being here holding the fort. I’ve got it good, I know that. I’m busy all day and sometimes into the night on set and I don’t have all the responsibilities you have so, I know it’s hard hun but just think, in August. I’ll be back and we can all just be together for as long as we like. I haven’t accepted any other work yet so it’s just promo for Matrix and John Wick that will definitely happen and that might be done more on line now that we know it works! And who knows, I might just get you pregnant as well!”

“You have to be here to do that sweetie”

“I know” he grinned giving my nose a tweak.

He Said

The first shooting in New York went well and whilst I missed Sophia and the kids, I was working so hard that there wasn’t much time for me to dwell on it. And the memory of that special day alone together sustained me, knowing that at the end of the John Wick shoot, I’d have at least a few months at home before having to go anywhere on a shoot or promotional tour.

I kept in touch via messaging and calls and the occasional bunch of flowers or a book sent to her to let her know she was in my thoughts but I know it was harder on her being alone especially when they had to start home schooling again. Julie was still part of the bubble but her baby was still small so she wasn’t always able to do her share, so Sophia and Miranda picked up the slack.

When I managed to pop back to LA in-between the first New York and the Russia shoots, Sophia was tetchy and I wondered whether it would have been better to simply go straight to Russia and stay out of her way! But she looked tired and drawn so I tried my best to be patient and took the kids out to play in the park for a few hours to give her a break whilst I was around. It wasn’t fun being on the receiving end of her temper, but I wished I could make life easier for her all the time and not have yet another period of location shooting ahead of me. I reassured her that once I was home, we’d have a few months at least together and I hoped that maybe then we’d strike it lucky with the baby plans.

She Said

While Keanu was in Russia, it really was a case of soldiering on. I was still feeling under the weather and constantly taking my temperature in case I was somehow going down with Covid but it was always normal regardless of how rubbish I felt.

We mostly did our calls in the mornings at around 8am as Russia is 10 hours ahead. Sometimes it was phone and sometimes video call depending on how good his internet was.

The kids would usually pile in in front of the iPad at some point in each call and his smile was so heart-warming to see when they popped up.

“You got any messages for Karina?” I asked him on one call “I’m meeting her for coffee tomorrow”

“Just say hi and that I’ll try to see her and mom when I’m home in-between Russia and NY OK? Only 2 days to go.”

“Yup, I’m counting down the hours” I said showing him my phone screen where I’d set a countdown on my home screen.

The next day, Karina and I sat in the sun enjoying a coffee. Well, I should clarify, she was enjoying a coffee and I was finding mine distinctly weird.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with this milk. My coffee tastes weird."

“no mine’s fine” you sure you’re OK. You look kinda pale.

“Yeah I just think this whole lockdown and home schooling thing is wearing me down. I was OK first time around when it was just 2 a week but now I sometimes get 3 days with 5 kids and I miss Keanu!”

“Poor baby – you should see your doctor though if you don’t feel better soon …………… or maybe your OBGYN!” she said, whispering the last part.

“What?!”

“Don’t tell me it hasn’t occurred to you” Karina said incredulously. “You two are trying right?”

“What?”

‘What’ is all I seemed to be able to say! She started laughing then.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me anything, I just guessed by some stuff he said without realising and now here you are looking distinctly sickly …… and you were last together about a month ago right?”

I nodded, doing the maths and realising she had a point – I hadn’t had my period in how many weeks now? I hadn’t done the calculations, what with everything going on, it had totally slipped my mind.

I could feel the colour rising in my cheeks.

“you got a test at home?”

I shook my head.

“Well go get one right after this! – he’s home the day after tomorrow right? Well you might have a lovely surprise for him eh?”

After our meet up I went straight home deciding against getting a test - I was paranoid about picking one up in person and someone recognising me and alerting the press. Instead I ordered one from Amazon which would be delivered the next morning. Karina texted me a couple of hours later to ask if I had done a test and was frustrated to hear I’d not got one yet though she got why I had bottled it. I told her I wasn’t about to tell her the result before her brother anyway!

He Said

I sank into the seat on the plane next to Chad, relieved to have the Russia shoot in the can. One of the stewards bought my requested Bloody Mary and I took a sip, a satisfied sigh leaving my lips.

“Happy?” Chad asked.

“Yeah, just glad to have a few days with Sophia if I’m honest. After this movie, my foot is coming off the pedal, I swear”

“Hard being away right? When you have a special someone at home that is?”

“Yup and she’s not been well this whole time - she’s been doing all this home schooling and it’s too much on your own. I mean those kids are great but, you know, they bounce out of bed at 7 and they just keep on bouncing til 7 or 8 at night like Duracell bunnies!”

“And you want more?”

“What?!” I spluttered.

“Come on, I can tell. You’ve said too many things that have clued me in”

I was blushing fiercely but there was little point trying to hide this from Chad. He’d known me for over 20 years and could read me like a book.

“Oh man, I must be the most transparent person on the planet”

“nahh you’re good at being guarded when you need to but, I just know you, OK? Good luck to you. I hope it works out, you both deserve it”

“Thanks man”

We landed in the early evening in LA. With the magic of the time difference, our bodies had had 12 hours of flight but it was just 2 hours after take off in terms of the time on the clock. I’d tried not to sleep too much but just enough so that I could stay awake till maybe 10 or 11pm and then catch up on my sleep that evening. I’d then have a 5 day break with Sophia before heading back to New York for the rest of the shoot.

She Said

I was like a cat on a hit tin roof from 6pm when Keanu texted to say he’d landed. I got the kids ready for bed but let them wait in their PJs so they could see him - he was there by 7.30. We kissed briefly in the entryway before he came into the house proper to greet the kids and thrill them with a Russian doll and traditional ushanka hat each. We managed to get them off to bed by 8.30, finally collapsing on the sofa.

I nestled into Keanu’s side, relishing in the warmth and closeness I’d missed for the past 3 weeks.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked.

“No, I’m fine – the only thing that seems appealing is a hot chocolate before bed if I’m honest, I’m running on empty, trying to stay up as long as I can!”

“mmmm, me too and I don’t have the excuse of a long haul flight!”

“Are you ready for your gifts?”

“mmmm yes please”

He kissed my cheek and got up to hunt in his bag.

He’d got me a bottle of Beluga vodka and a gorgeous traditional Russian scarf with pretty red roses woven on a black background.

“Hey, I guess we could have a little welcome home shot on ice?”

“Yeah sure”

“I’ll just get the glasses and I’ve got a little gift for you too.”

I went to the kitchen where my gift was already waiting on the counter and grabbed a shot glass and some ice and went back to the living room and sat down beside him again.

“Just one glass?” he queried.

“Yup, I don’t fancy it right now, sorry – anyway, here” I said handing him a small gift.

“You didn’t have to get my anything!”

“I kind of did” I said simply, making him cock his eyebrow quizzically at me as he pulled on the ribbon and unwrapped my gift. There was tissue paper inside which he pulled open.

He was quiet for several seconds, staring down in his lap before he lifted his dark eyes to mine, a single tear escaping.

“Come ‘ere”

He Said

I could often be taciturn, in difficult interviews for example, but it was rare for me to be rendered speechless yet that’s what I was after unwrapping Sophia’s gift. I’d never actually seen one before in real life, a strange thing to admit maybe for a 56 year old man, but there it was in my lap: A positive pregnancy test. We’d done it, conceived at our combined age of nearly 100!, without any great stress or strain and I was thrilled - even in my jet lagged state I felt elated and I kissed and hugged Sophia until she couldn’t take any more!

We skipped the vodka and went straight to bed, talking briefly about the details before falling asleep, both of us exhausted for our different reasons. I spooned behind her with my hand resting on her belly and her hand over mine and smiled as I drifted to sleep.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithk’eanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles @bitchyslut99

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves #romance with boss

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jlf23tumble · 4 years

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This one’s for @homosociallyyours and @silverfoxlouis, the former because she’s not going to listen and the latter because they’re listening as we speak! I saw a post earlier that low-key annoyed me because it either misrepresented today’s Stern interview or it skipped right over the fascinating bits, so here are the parts I enjoyed (I won’t waste my time on the shit I hated, lol):

Shrooms and the song-writing process are related to Harry’s anxiety about fucking shit up and needing to get out of his own head; related: coming from a band, if there's something you don't like, you can tell yourself that it wasn’t your choice.

The Rob Stringer talk made me SIDE EYE w/r/t the delay, like, okay, you’re a label boss who’s gonna drop a ton of money, but you’re cool with telling the artist to just relax and take all the time they need, you’ll just pick up the thread when hs2 is completely finished, lolz (I have my own theories about allllll of that, but okay!).

I love Stevie and her coven of nocturnal witches, too, but tell me more about how she hated Harry’s choice of first single (in my heart, she wanted “Golden”) and the song that she thought should have been on the album but isn’t, god, she’s such a yoda, and this entire bit was so much bigger than the coven.

I live in Harry’s soft, breathy “thank you” whenever Howard praises SOTT.

I feel like all the White Eskimo talk is a fic waiting to happen, the whole battle of the bands and them winning studio time and how Harry talks to maybe one of them and there’s a guy who IS STILL IN WHITE ESKIMO I GUESS???? WHAT?

Howard Stern hatesssssssssssss Simon Cowell, so his attempts to get Harry to talk shit were both wonderful and expertly dodged, lmao.

My only positive comment about the discussion around Harry “putting on some timber” during his bakery (cashier at a baker) years was how much it echoed Louis’s comment about “having extra timber” during one of his recent BTS specials.

Were the guys in One Direction REALLY saying that Matt Cardle was “so fucking good” back in the day? This junior statesman!

Ralph pointed this out when we were talking about the interview, but a lot of the time, Howard just makes statements (as per usual), and Harry says, “Right,” which is a great response because it isn’t really an answer, yet it’s still participatory.

Howard is obsessed with coronavirus, so it was hella interesting to hear Harry’s thoughts about it affecting his tour, when his tour is still so far away (yet another tour is so much closer and in the direct line of fire).

Howard (like me) was pleased that Harry’s band is a mix of women and men and not just dudes (I should take a drink every time Bowie is mentioned, like around Harry’s clothes, how Harry is starting his tour in Philadelphia, the entirety of that convo making me want to see Harry’s face as much as all the xarries want to).

One of the things I hated seeing earlier today was this notion that Howard “forced” Harry to talk about the robbery because he absolutely did not, Harry went into CRAZY levels of detail about it when Howard asked, “When did this happen to you?” (and the way Harry talked about it wasn’t full of trauma or sadness, it bordered on humorous in spots but still serious; it clearly shook him up, but he wasn’t about to let it change his life of feeling free to walk around at night).

I wanted to hear a lot more about all the musicians hanging out in the ‘70s and being competitive in terms of who was writing the best songs about a particular party vs. the competitiveness of banging out the best single today. Harry’s focus was that if you say you like a song, people think you should collaborate…if two musicians hang out, they're dating or recording (like with Adele, and case in point, Howard immediately asked if they were working on something).

I also loved the bit about acting and how nervous Harry used to be about EVERYTHING because he’s waiting three hours to do three minutes, and he focuses so much on his voice or hands shaking, but this last SNL really helped (in my heart, his “little tweaks” were on the Sara Lee sketch).

I live in the guffaw from Harry whenever Howard unexpectedly hit his funny bone (like Harry saying Anne gave him some money to buy clothes when he first moved to London, and Howard saying it was good return on investment for her, what with the house Harry eventually bought her, etc.).

I absolutely LOVED the entire bit about Ben Winston’s attic (and Ralph’s related takes on it), the fine line of the plausibility yet the doubling down; the word “cocaine” coming out of Harry’s mouth; the parts about dating and keeping your relationship normal/secret, etc., GOLD, ALL OF IT.

Harry, like Phoenix Mendoza, writes every day, which is part of why he wasn’t really into giving up his phone to muggers because that’s his writing zone of choice for lyrics and poems (the whole robbery clapback here: “for the purposes of not getting mugged again, no, they’re on a different device”).

MITCH SPEAKS!! He was into his Nick Drake phase when Harry met him, but apparently everyone is into the open D (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) chord, so he was a shoe-in. Also, Harry met Adam in 2010??? I’d like more information.

We move back into 1D territory with Zayn’s departure, which is still shittily handled but somewhat more maturedly discussed, and yet another attempt to get Harry to talk shit about Simon, which is getting us closer to what we want/need (Harry’s very real answer to Simon being pissed that Harry didn’t consult him about going solo: “I’m in a band since I was 16, there were five of us, we had a lot of managers, lots of people at the label, and all of these decisions affect your life in a massive way, every decision I made was a group call. I didn't know who I was as an adult,” and a lot of that is paraphrased in spite of the quote marks, but just know that I am screaming LIAM).

There’s a lot of weird downspeak to Sarah and Ny (Adam and Mitch were talked at earlier), but everyone’s very much into Sarah, and rightfully so. I loved the slip up where Howard is trying to figure out if there’s anything romantic going on between Harry and the female band members, and someone says, “Mitch!” so you can hear Howard process Harry and Mitch for a hot sec, cracking the Hitch dream, before we get clarification and Harry gleefully taking us into the story of their love. (Me as the speech Howard gives Sarah and Mitch about how dangerous it is to be in a band together and to have a relationship because if you fuck it up, it’ll be terrible.)

SLEDGEHAMMER NICE.

We get a bit into the “Adore You” video because Howard’s an animal softie, and he loves it (it’s downplayed, but Howard also mentions how fans have put a lot of “thoughts” into the fish), but then we get into talk about how this song is about the girl Harry’s banging (HIS SNICKER HERE) and how the common denominator in all of Harry’s failed relationships is him, huh. All of this relationship talk here makes me want to DIE with how much I love it.

Everyone focuses on the gross talk from Howard about Harry having a lady therapist (this is a long-standing Howard trope), but some good shit disappears between those cracks, like how Harry decided to go into therapy, how he’s keeping his LA therapist instead of having two in different countries, etc., and it’s actually Robin who asks Harry about seeming weak or vulnerable in front of a female therapist, but clearly, he’s not bothered.

I’m so interested in how the shrooms tongue-biting incident cured a speech impediment I wasn’t fully aware of but that is still so impossibly endearing.

Harry himself picks out his opening acts, which we already knew but is always nice to hear confirmed.

The drug convo in text from earlier today makes it sound like he doesn’t smoke cigs, but to me, it seems like he doesn’t like to smoke weed (an edible king, relatable).

Harry says, “you’ve said it all,” which just makes me think he’s a long-time (or recent) Stern listener, because that’s what Howard says when he’s done/interview’s over.

We think it’s all done but the shouting, and then Robin gets into Harry’s clothing, which is where it gets dicey. Howard (of course) mentions that Bowie wore a skirt and how he himself did full drag on TV (“legs shaved and everything, you should see how gorgeous I am as a woman”), but Harry keeps it very much in the realm of what he wears is what he wears because it’s fun for him, he’s not wearing a school uniform or trying to look cool for his friends, he’s a lot more comfortable with himself: “At shows, I tell people to be who they want to be, I plan on telling my kids that, so I don’t want to be a hypocrite, I’m not wearing it for shock value.”

Howard says people will assume he’s gay or bi (like Bowie, YEAH, SIGH), but Harry says it’s not performative. This whole bit is fascinating on so many levels, he touches (without saying) on the entire queer-baiting issue, and it’s cringe-y, with Howard saying “I’m not criticizing, wear what you want, I’m a big mess, etc.”

Anyway, they pivot out of that with Howard moving beyond into asking Harry who he wants to badmouth: “Simon?” Harry: “This has been great!” and this entire bit about how Howard wants to know if Harry considers Simon a friend, and Harry saying he doesn’t talk to him gives me life. There’s a lot of gross talk about who Harry has his eye on for his next girlfriend, but I will tell you that I never in my life expected to hear the words SUSAN BOYLE thrown into this convo.

The interview closes out with Harry getting progressively more silent about the women he should date, saying that he doesn’t talk in interviews about his love life, he talks in music (oh?????), so Taylor Swift comes up, and Harry says it’s flattering to think you’re in a Taylor song because she’s such a great songwriter, which, true, I guess?

Harry hasn’t used a dating app (duh), but Howard thinks he should create one, and…scene.

#recap #stern show

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hazzabeeforlou · 4 years

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On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is.

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful.

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating.

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe.

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso.

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards.

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay.

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died.

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert.

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day.

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone.

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on.

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too.

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life.

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too.

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come.

#mine #personal #tw suicide #tw disordered eating

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indigosandviolets · 4 years

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The Secrets a Book Can Tell

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x OC x George Luz

Word Count: 2,564

Summary: Andrew and Luz watch a movie even though Luz just can’t seem to shut up, but soon they’re all called to Bastogne. Andrew remembers how he came into the possession of the book he refuses to die without, but then the possibility of dying seems to only get worse as they start the march to Bastogne.

Notes: This chapter was originally just gonna have a minor flashback with Albert, but since someone said something about wanting to learn more about Andrew’s past, I made that a whole part!

Part Eleven of We Happy Few

The darkness of the room would have been perfectly coupled with silence, moving and working together to create a peaceful place as the men of Easy Company watched a movie.

That silence, of course, was not going to happen, all in favor of Geroge Luz.

“Gotta penny?” He said as the scene changed. Andrew nudged his side, trying to get him to shut up. Andrew had just wanted to hold hands with the lovable goofball, but because he kept talking he kept drawing attention to himself.

“Shut up, Luz,” Toye said, not turning around.

“Come on, I’ve seen the move seventeen times.”

“And I haven’t,” Toye replies, turning his head to look at Luz. “So shut up.”

Luz, being Luz, didn’t pay any mind. “Gotta penny?”

Andrew nudged him again. “George, stop,” he whispered. He had only seen the movie once before, and he barely remembered where that line even was, if it existed. It seemed to be Luz’s favorite, and he persisted.

“Gotta penny?” His voice was becoming more exaggerated, and Andrew was a blushing mess.

“George, please, quit it.”

“C’mon, it’s my favorite part,” He whispers to Andrew before saying the line again. “Gotta penny?”

Toye looked back at him again, ready to kill and Andrew could see it. He prayed that Toye didn’t have his brass knuckles. Luz stayed focus on the screen. “Gotta pen-ny?”

The woman finally says it, and Luz cheers. “For fuck’s sake, George,” Andrew says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Admittedly, he did love the idiot, but he wanted a quiet movie where they wouldn’t get caught while doing slight, domestic things. Luz had deflected that by, well, being Luz. Luz turned to Andrew after, his always present goofy smile lurking on his face.

He leans over into Andrew’s ear, whispering, “You know you love me.”

As Luz pulls away, Andrew glares at him. It’s not a mean one, it’s just an annoyed one, and Luz knows it based on the little laugh that he lets out.

Going to the movie had already been a strangely emotional thing for Andrew. He didn’t let it show, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the first time he and Luz kissed before the movie (which they did before this one, just a lot more hastily than that first time) and the circumstances around that kiss. He also couldn’t stop thinking about how he had been pulled out of the said movie to kiss Liebgott.

Now, this time it wasn’t Liebgott, but they were pulled out of the movie -- everyone was. Welsh took up the attention of the room, standing up at the top of the stage in the front of the makeshift theatre. “Get your gear, everyone, we’re moving out. Take everything you’re gonna need.”

That’s not really what Welsh said, but Andrew was sent straight into getting ready so quickly that he couldn’t remember exactly what the Lieutenant said.

Andrew buttoned up his jacket as fast as possible, threw as many warm clothes his combat bag would carry as far down as possible, followed by a few packs of cigarettes and half a bar of chocolate that he had stolen with Liebgott from the canteen.

He slipped on his winter coat and hat before throwing the bag over his shoulder. As he did so, a book fell off his bed in the haste. He picked it up carefully like the book was so fragile that it would snap in half at too harsh of a touch.

It was All Quiet on the Western Front, the same copy and edition he had carried with him from Toccoa. He rubbed his finger over the now worn spine, moving to the corners of the cover. They had been bent over, rumpled, becoming soft. He opened the book, and other than his name written in a soft pencil, a message had been written in on the back of the front cover.

Remember, read to Luz!

Andrew’s fingertips touched the messy note, remembering how Luz had asked him to read to him that fateful night in Normandy. He sighed, slipping the book into the inside pocket of his winter coat and stepping out with the rest of the men, ready to get in the douche-and-a-half’s.

Andrew acquired All Quiet on the Western Front from his brother, Albert. Albert had always been a novice reader, in fact, his second choice for his major in college was literature, but he stuck with finance and business instead. Having no other real male figure to try and emulate in his day-to-day life, Andrew too picked up a love and real passion for reading.

It had started off small, with reading a new book once a month after Albert had moved out. It became a rock and grounding for Andrew to become more in tune with himself -- and to tune out his parents as well.

This soon escalated to two, to three, to four, averaging one a week. He couldn’t get enough of the words as they seemed to fly off the page, and he also couldn’t get enough from the escape of his parents. He read anything he could get his hands on, it was like an obsession.

All Quiet on the Western Front, though, wasn’t one of those books that he read in a week. Albert had left a copy behind, but it was well-read, torn in many places. There were even whole chapters missing from here they had been ripped out (Albert used them for inspiration and note-giving). What he could read, though, was mostly in German. Albert had went out and gone and bought a German edition of the book, learning the language just to translate the book. Andrew couldn’t understand it, other than the simple “Ja” here and there. It was a nightmare to read, and it was one of the things that Andrew had taken with him when he stole the truck and drove to Chicago.

“Al,” Andrew said one night as they sat on the couch after dinner. They had been listening to the radio, hearing updates about the war in the Pacific. Andrew had already looked into enlisting for the Army that morning. “Why in the name of God did you have to leave me a book in German?”

Albert shrugged. “Motivation, I guess.”

“Motivation for what?”

“To get you to visit me,” Albert said, smile wide on his face. Andrew now remembers that he and Albert did share a smile. There were several things that the two of them didn’t even come close to being similar in, but you couldn’t deny that the Marin boys had the same smile. “Took you, what, three, four years?”

Andrew hit his older brother’s shoulder. “I hardly call it a visit.”

“Then what is it?”

“An escape.”

“Yeah, that works.”

Andrew held the German edition in his hands for a moment before giving it over to Albert. “Half of it’s gone, by the way. You ripped out a lot.”

“I know,” Albert replied, taking the book and holding it up to the light. “You know, I forgot half of it.”

“The book?”

“Well, that, but I forgot half the German I learned.”

Andrew laughed. “What good you are to the Army.”

“That is why, my dear brother, you are going instead.”

Andrew sighed. “If they’ll take me.”

Albert looked over to Andrew. “They’ll take you, don’t worry. I hear they need guys for their new Airborne program.”

“The hell is that?”

“You think I know?”

Albert got up, placing the book on the coffee table before he walked over to his bookshelf. He scanned it for a minute before pulling out a newer copy of the same book -- this time, in English.

“Here,” Albert said as he gave Andrew the copy. “It’s brand new. You’re gonna need something to read when you have downtime.”

Albert and Andrew couldn’t have expected that downtime for reading to happen where the book actually took place, but that night, Andrew tucked the book away into his bag after writing his name on the inside cover, not sure when he was going to read it.

Andrew sat beside Liebgott and Babe, nestled between the two, his knees pulled up towards him to keep in as much warmth as possible. Everyone was talking to a replacement -the name he didn’t quite catch, maybe Ray? - what why he had so little on him.

“You need four pairs of socks,” Skip Muck tells him. “One for your feet, one for your hands, one for your neck and pair for the balls.”

Everyone seemed to agree. Everyone was asking the replacement of what he had on him and what he needed.

“You got cigarettes?” Someone asks, and the replacement nods.

“Yeah, I got a half-”

Andrew can’t hear the rest of the sentence as everyone grabs for cigarettes, even Liebgott and Babe. Andrew puts his hand on Lieb’s shoulder. “I got you a pack, calm down. I’ll get it out when we stop.”

“You gotta coat?” Liebgott asks. And he asks it again. He keeps asking it until another matter is deemed more pressing, that of which he turns to look at Babe and Andrew to say, “I gotta piss.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Andrew tells him.

“No shit,” Liebgott says, turning away. Andrew knows that Lieb is being a little short with him, but that’s mainly due to the fact that he still felt awkward around Babe after what happened before Eindhoven. Despite this, Liebgott moved his hand around Andrew’s waist, most of their bodies covered by the winter coats so that no one would see it. He accomplished this by timing it with when the truck lurched as it went over a rough patch on the dirt road, knocking everyone into each other. This was a perfect time, Liebgott seemed to decide, that he give a little reassuring squeeze to Andrew.

“Why the hell are we even comin’ over here anyway?” Guarnere asks everyone. “We’re supposed to jump outta planes, not ride out and march to the battlefield.” Andrew knew that Guarnere was always somewhat passionate about the things he thought were problems. “This is the fourth Army problem, right? They should be sendin’ in the sixty-eighth, not the one-o-one.”

Andrew leaned his head up to get his voice over to Guarnere. “We’re still Army, Guarnere. They’re gonna send us wherever the hell they want to. It doesn’t matter if we’re armored or not.”

“The hell do you know, Marin?” Guarnere says.

“Guarnere, where the hell have you been the last two years?” Andrew replies. “You of all people should know that Mister Eisenhower doesn’t give a shit about who gets sent in. As long as the problem gets resolved, they could send in the fucking coast guard and he couldn’t give a shit.”

Guarnere turns, patting the replacement on the shoulder. “That’s Andrew Marin. Second smartest guy in the company.”

“Who’s first?”

“That’s Bull.”

Andrew looked down, smiling to himself. It didn’t sound like a lot, but to be second to Bull? He could only dream.

As the truck came to a stop, Andrew, Babe, and Liebgott were the first out, and Babe and Andrew stood by a pit that had been filled with gas, waiting for one of the Lieutenants to get it lit. Andrew almost did it with his lighter, but he needed it -- he smoked too much to not have one on him. They also waited on Liebgott, who had gone to resolve the pressing matter of having to piss.

“It’s so goddamn cold, Babe,” Andrew says as the fire finally reaches them. Andrew didn’t think that the smell of burning gas would actually be comforting.

“Remember how they said we’d be home by Christmas?” Babe tells him. “Way back before Market Garden?”

“Jesus, yeah, I do,” Andrew laughs. “I wrote to my brother about it too. What a load of good that does now.”

“Hey, at least you and Liebgott will be together for Christmas.”

“Yeah, if we don’t freeze our asses off.”

“Hey, kiddos,” Liebgott says as he returns to Babe and Andrew. “How’s the fire?”

“No one else is gonna here us, you don’t have to say kiddos, Lieb,” Andrew tells him. “It’s good. How was the piss?”

“As good as a piss can get while you’re freezing your ass off,” Liebgott replies, standing beside Andrew. “I would not recommend it.”

Andrew chuckles, looking up from the fire and out to the road. He doesn’t quite see it at first, but there’s movement. A lot of movement. Men, disheveled and battered and bruised, walking on the road, out of the town they were supposed to go into. Andrew taps on Liebgott, making him look at the marching men.

“What the hell happened to them?” Babe asked. “They look like complete shit.”

“I have no idea, Babe.”

Andrew looked over to Liebgott, who didn’t say anything. He just looked back at Andrew, and Andrew could feel just how scared they both were. Not of what was ahead, but for each other, worried if they would get through the hell that walked before them alive. If the guys there had only been in for a month and looked like this when they were pulling out — while it was starting to get cold — what the hell was going to happen to the rest of them?

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Guarnere talking to one of the men. Now, if there was anyone who only took the absolute truth, it was Guarnere.

“I’ll go talk to Gonorrhea,” Andrew tells them. “Just get what you can find, yeah?”

“Drew, what-“ Liebgott starts, and Andrew turns around. “What do you expect him to know?”

“He’s talking to one of ‘em, so he knows more than us,” Andrew says. “Plus, he holds more power, being as we’re only tech corporals and he’s a goddamn sergeant.”

Liebgott purses his lips before he sighs. “Fine, but be careful, alright?”

“I will be. We promised, remember?”

With that, Andrew turned and walked to Guarnere, who had just stopped talking to the soldier from the fourth army. “Bill, what’s going on?”

Guarnere looks at Andrew. “It’s a goddamn suicide mission, that’s what it is,” Guarnere tells him. “They probably went in there with 200 guys, now they’re comin’ out with 93. Just get their ammo and pray to God you’re not gonna be dead before your birthday, Marin.”

Guarnere walks off to get ammo from the men before Andrew can ask another question. He steps back from the road. His birthday is in less than two weeks and Guarnere was telling him that he might die before then. Terrible thought, he knows, but that’s the truth. Anyone could die out there, be it God’s will or good ol’ Mr. Hitler’s.

Maybe that’s why Andrew brought his book, because he knew he wouldn’t die without it. Because he knew that if he did die, no one else could have that copy, with the worn cover and dog eared pages and cracked spine and message about Luz talking about a promise he hadn’t quite carried out yet, because if he wasn’t able to read it to Luz, no one would know but him and Luz. Not another soul could have known what happened on that night in D-Day, only Andrew, Luz, and All Quiet on the Western Front.

tag list: @alienoresimagines @fromcrossroadstoking @easyroses @leximus98 if you want to be added, please let me know!

#band of brothers #joseph liebgott x oc #joseph liebgott #george luz x oc #george luz #andrew marin #babe heffron #bill guarnere #joe toye #harry welsh

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anagentinwriting · 5 years

Text

Subscribe - Part 11

Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2423

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst

Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist

On the flight back to California, you kept replaying the weekend over in your head. Saturday was a busy day filled with meeting fans and having a Q&A at a local coffee shop. Wanda and you were both surprised with the turnout, and the fans had a ton of questions. Some were about your children, products you’ve used, tips, and of course, a couple of questions about Star-lord. For the fun of it, you decided to record the event and upload it to the podcast page once you got back.

After the meet and greet, you and Wanda did a little exploring, like stopping at a few toy shops that sold Potts of Honey products. You walked through Central Park and stopped at a few souvenir shops and bought a little gift for Mer. It was a fun and productive trip.

Peter promised to keep Meredith for a few hours longer after you got back, so you could get stuff settled at home before he dropped her off. You put in some laundry, vacuumed, and sat down at your desk to get some work done.

A sharp, dull pain shot up the back of your neck as you let out a groan and opened your eyes. Ugh...what time was it? You lifted your head off your desk and noticed a piece of paper sticking to your face. You sighed, pulling it off and stretching your neck back and forth. You heard Meredith’s unique laugh, coming from the kitchen, they must’ve got here while you were sleeping in that uncomfortable position. You walked out of your office, letting out a long yawn that made your eyes water.

“Daddy, you're gonna burn the grilled cheese. Mommy won’t eat them if you burn them.” You stepped up to the kitchen doorway and leaned against it.

“It will be fine, Twig. It’s hard to burn a grilled cheese, and the tomato soup is going to be delicious,” Peter replied, standing over the stove with Mer sitting on the counter beside him.

“It’s from a can. You can’t mess that up,” she blurted out, forcing a chuckle out of him.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned in close to her. “Your mother burnt tomato soup once,” he said, making Mers mouth drop open.

“In my defense, I got distracted. It happens,” you confessed, making yourself known. Peter turned around, shooting you with his boyish smirk as Mer jumped off the counter and ran over to you.

“Mommy!” Mer jumped into your arms, and you held her close. You tighten your grip around her, squeezing your eyes shut. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too.”

“Did you get me anything?” Mer asked with innocent eyes as you two pulled apart.

“How about you go get my bag from the living room, and I’ll show you,” you told her, making her eyes light up and take off to the other room. You stood up, watching her leave with a side smirk on your face.

“I’m happy you’re home, too,” Peter nodded as you turned around. “She can be a handful on the weekends. Whew!”

“I tried to tell you,” you chuckled. “I hope you were able to keep her under control.” You stepped to the other side of the room to stir the tomato soup. Peter licked his lips, keeping a watchful eye on you. “I want to thank you for watching her again.”

“It’s the least I could do after everything.” He cleared his throat, biting his lip. “I figured cooking you both dinner would be a good idea since you were passed out in your office.” You punch him on his bicep, feeling your face heat up.

“Got your bag,” Mer grunted, dragging it into the kitchen. You leaned down and opened it, handing her a stuffed teddy bear with ‘I <3 NY’ sewed on the belly. “I love it,” Mer squealed, holding it tight to her chest. She rushed over to Peter and hopped back on the counter. “What do you think, daddy?”

“I’m jealous I didn’t get one,” he smirked at you as Mer giggled next to him. “As I was saying, YN. You go relax. Me and Mer will finish cooking dinner.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Peter turned back to the stove and flipped the grilled cheese. You walked out of the kitchen and took a chair at the dining table in the next room over. You weren’t one to eavesdrop, but Peter was so sweet to her you couldn’t help but listen in.

“I told you! I knew you were going to burn the grilled cheese. It’s like you got distracted or something,” Mer joked, making you crack a smile across your face. “Are you going to join us for dinner, Daddy?”

“Wish I could, Twig, but turns out I have to go to New York tonight for a day or so.”

“Awww, man,” she complained, letting out a loud sigh. “That means I have to go to daycare with all those babies!”

"I'm sorry," he breathed a soft chuckle. "I think you can survive a day or two.”

“I don’t know, dad. You don’t know what it’s like in there. It changes a person,” she stated with a straight face, forcing him to shake his head unable to stop the smile gracing his lips. “What is in New York?”

"I'm going to listen to the girl from Queens, she's playing at a local coffee shop there. I remember a certain little girl mentioning how we should listen to her live-in person and see if she is as good as her demos are."

“Yesss! She’s so amazing.”

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it was kind of a last-minute decision."

"It's okay, Dad," Mer replied in a comforting tone.

“Would you mind buttering some more bread since I burnt this one?”

“On it, Grilled Cheese Burner.”

_______

You returned to work, and things couldn’t have been busier. It was a crazy week so far, and it felt like it was flying by. The schedule you and Peter created was working out like a charm. You couldn't believe how much easier it was when two parents were involved. You hated to admit it to yourself, but you loved observing their interactions. You felt yourself falling for him all over again, and you hated how fast it was happening. What if you get hurt again? What would happen? How would you move on? He knew about Mer now so he would continue to be in your life. But damn, he was so good with her and it only made him more irresistible.

You got off work early and decided to go to the studio to pick Mer up. She wanted to ask Peter to the father-daughter dance happening on Friday, but she was nervous. You figured if you left work early, you could help her build up a little extra courage and ask him herself.

Walking into the studio, you waved at Mantis, and she pointed to the offices to the left while she continued talking on the phone. You nodded, making your way to Peter and Bucky’s office. You stopped by the doorway, seeing Peter and Mer playing together. A sincere smile formed on your lips, watching them interact.

“Hi, my name's Korg,” Peter said in a gruff accent, shaking the toy. “I run this place around here. What's your name?"

“Daddy, you're so funny,” she giggled, leaning into his side. You didn’t miss the heartfelt smile that spread across his face. It wasn’t hard to notice that Peter enjoyed being a dad. He loved spending time with her, and he was turning out to be a great father.

“Hi, YN.”

“OH SHIT!” You held your hand to your chest, turning around. “Hey, Bucky.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me,” he chuckled, coming to stand next to you.

“I didn’t.” You punched him on his arm. “I forgot how sneaky you can be.”

“One of my many skills,” he smirked, glancing into his shared office.

“Mommy!” Mer came running at you and wrapped her little arms around your legs, pulling them into a hug. You leaned over, patting her back.

“How was school?”

“It was so much fun. My math is starting to get challenging, and I like it.”

“What like it isn’t challenging enough already,” Bucky mumbled beside you.

“That’s great. Why don’t you go pack your things, and we’ll go have dinner at Auntie Gam’s tonight?”

“Yes…okay,” She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “Uncle Bucky, I’m gonna need your help, come with me.” She grabbed his hand, forcing a laugh out of him as she pulled him along to get her bag.

“Hey,” Peter greeted, walking up to you. “How are things coming along at Potts of Honey?”

“It’s good. We’re hoping to start building on the New York property in the next month or so. It's all happening really fast. And turns out, the podcast is more successful than we thought it was on the east coast.”

“Yeah, I listened to that Q&A podcast you did at that cafe. It was fun to listen to. You and Wanda are inspiring so many people.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Are you kidding? You’re incredible at what you do.”

“Thanks,” you gushed, feeling a blush tint your cheeks.

“And the whole New York facility sounds exciting, too. You're something else, YN,” he confessed. “Do you know who is going to be running it once everything gets settled?”

“I don’t know. That’s a good question. I haven't....” Meredith interrupted you as she ran down the hallway shouting with her backpack strapped on tight.

“MOM, I AM READY TO GO!”

Saying quick goodbyes to Mantis and Peter, you and Mer headed out to your car. You buckled yourself in and watched Mer strap herself into her car seat from the rearview mirror.

“Did you ask your dad if he wanted to go to the dance?”

“Um…no. He wouldn’t want to go to some stupid kid thing anyways,” she sighed, looking out the window.

“You don't know that,” you replied, unbuckling your seatbelt. “You know what, we're not leaving till you ask him...let's go back inside?”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do. I know you do,” you said, turning around in your seat. “I'm not asking him for you. You’re a big girl. You can do this.” She shook her head, staring at the front seat. You stepped out of the car and opened her door. “He will say yes, but only if you ask him.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m your mother. Now come on, Meredith.”

“Finnnne,” she whined, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

“Hey, Peter,” you greeted, walking back through the entrance. He glanced in your direction as he leaned against the front desk, chatting with Mantis. “Mer wanted to ask you something? She’s nervous you might already have plans, but she has been wanting to ask you for a while now.”

“Is that right? Okay. Hey, Twig.” He walked over and leaned down in front of her putting his hands on her shoulder. “What is it? You know you can ask me anything right. No matter what it is.”

She looked at you standing next to her, and you nodded. “Did you want to go to this father-daughter dance at my school on Friday night?”

“Friday you say--” he hummed, thinking it over “--I’d love to go! I’ll have to rearrange some things, but I’ll be there.” She smiled and wrapped him into a hug. He put his arms around her little frame and squeezed her tight before pulling away. “Do I have to wear a tux?

“Yes,” she giggled and hugged him again. You smiled down at them. “Do you promise?” She asked, holding up her pinky finger.

“I promise, Twig.” He hooked his pinky with hers and swung it around, forcing a loud giggle out of her.

“Now let's get going, Gamora is waiting for us. I'll text you about the dance details, Peter, and figure out a game plan.”

He nodded. “Sounds good, YN. See you two ladies tomorrow.”

Mer smile, waving goodbye. “Love you, daddy,” she shouted before walking out the door.

“Love you, too, Twig.”

“She is so cute, Peter.” Mantis commented.

“She is going to be a heartbreaker when she grows up,” he smirked, resting his elbows back on the front desk. Mantis chuckled, agreeing with him.

“When are you going to tell her the truth?” Nat asked, walking into the room.

“Excuse me?” Peter questioned, looking up from the paperwork in front of him.

“About how I work here." She twirled her finger in the air. "I hate hiding when she comes in. It's ridiculous how after all these years you still don't have the balls to tell her what happened.”

“It's a sensitive subject." He furrowed his brows together. "Besides, I don't want to ruin what I have been trying to rebuild with her.”

“You think this will ruin everything. You’re an idiot. This will clear everything up beside when I was watching the security cameras I could tell she’s still into you,” Nat added, crossing her arms.

He scoffed. “I doubt it. I mean, she...she doesn't even want to talk about what happened.”

“She's trying to protect herself, doofus. She doesn’t want to relive what she went through because it was hard on her, especially because she was pregnant.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know about that part,” Peter stated, forcing Nat to roll her eyes. “When the time is right I will tell her, but not right now!”

“Fine, but now is the right time.” He shrugged, chewing on his lip. “Buck and I are going to dinner soon, did you want to come?”

“No, I should stay here and catch up on some things.” Nat nodded at him as she walked back to her office.

Peter smiled at the paperwork in front of him thinking about the father-daughter dance. Would he still be able to fit into the silver tux he bought forever ago? Does he get her a corsage? Or a bouquet? Sure, he would have to cancel his plans with Bereet, but that was an easy fix, and she’d understand, right? Peter’s mind continued to be filled with questions, but there was one that lingered in the back of his mind. Was Nat right about YN? Did she still have feelings for him? Nat has always been super observant, so could she be right?

_________

AN: Awww...now who's excited about this dance! The reader might be catching feelings, but how long will it take for her to realize he might feel the same? Slow burn, am I right? Nat seems to know the truth about why they broke up...hmmm...I wonder what it could be? As always thanks for reading!

#peter quill #peter quill au #peter quill x reader #peter quill reader insert #peter quill image #Star-Lord #star lord x reader #star lord au #Chris Pratt #Guardians of the Galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #GotG #marvel #marvel fanfic #Marvel AU

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #244

“you could stand me up at the gates of hell, but i won’t back down.”

What accent do you find most difficult to understand? Heavy southern. Has your music taste changed over the years? Not very. I do like more indie stuff now than I used to, though. What movie never fails to make you cry? The Notebook. What movies do you think need a sequel? Hm... I'm sure there's plenty, but they're evading me for now. Let's see... yeah idk. Do you have to see it to believe it? I mean it depends; see what exactly? But in general, yeah. I believe in spirits, maybe even auras, stuff like that. What was the last thing you bought for yourself? Food. Do you like 3D movies? Yeah, they're cool. Have you ever had breakfast in bed? Not the "my partner brought me food and it's romantic" type of way; I've just eaten breakfast food in bed. Have you ever practiced kissing on a stuffed animal? No, that's always been. p wild to me. Do you still talk to your childhood friends? A few. True/False: You live with your parents. Just one. At the dinner table do you always sit in the same chair? We rarely eat at the table, but generally, yes. Is your signature legible? I think so. Have you met any bands/singers? No. Have you ever witnessed a miracle? No. Do you know someone that looks better as they age? *shrugs* Do you know the order of the colors of the rainbow? Yes. Do you sometimes wish you were the opposite gender? No. Have you ever kissed a picture? of who? I don’t think so. Did/do you distract your teachers to get them to tell you stories? I didn't really speak in class unless I was pretty sure I had the answer to a question or had a serious question myself. Who makes you feel like you’re worth something? My mom, more than anyone. Do you remember a lot of your childhood? Yeah. I have a crazy vivid long-term memory. How many pets is too many? Depends on available space as well as what you can afford to care for sufficiently. Do you stare at dead people in a movie to see if you can catch them moving? lol no. Does your hand fit inside a Pringles container? Probably. I can curl my thumb really inward to make space. Do you know who your maid of honor/best man will be? Sara, unless I end up marrying her lmao. In that case, it'd be Mom. If you had the opportunity to be famous, would you take it? I don't like the term "famous" for me personally, but rather "well-known" for a photographer. What is your favorite healthy snack? Strawberries, I guess? What is the best song by your favorite artist/band? I HAVE TO???????? PICK???????????? Oh jeez. At least right now, "Time" is one that I hold incredibly close to my heart and usually brings me to tears because it reminds me of Teddy. It's just a beautiful song. I'd say overall, probably "Trap Door." It's cool as hell. How many times did your phone ring today? None. What theme do you want for your wedding? Halloween/fall-ish. How much do you spend a month on make-up? Nothing. Do you have any of your future children’s names picked out? I don't want kids, but if I did, Alessandra Quinn is the girl and my spouse cannot argue, and I'd love Damien Vance or Damien Victor for a boy. What was your favorite childhood meal? Spaghetti. Would you ever date someone over the internet? I don't *think* I'd do it again, no, unless it was Sara and we were actually making arrangements to move in together ASAP. Do you find it hard to believe that a dinosaur was once right where you are? No, but rather cool as hell. What is your favorite part of the movie “The Lion King”? The intro (up to where the title pops up, not just NAAAAAAAAAAAAASEBENYAAAAAAAAAAA). It's just... magical. I, without fail, get goosebumps all over and smile. Do you have any bug bites atm? No. Do you knock before entering someone’s room? Yeah. What was the last thing you shot in the garbage? Like, shot as a basketball? Probably just paper or something. Would you freak out if you saw a spider crawling on you right now? Fuck yes I would. Who did you last call beautiful? Venus, my snake. Have you ever used a tanning bed? Nooooooo. Do you think people will eventually stop believing in God? Oh, absolutely not. The belief in some sort of higher power has evolved since the dawn of civilization, so why would it stop? Do you and your best friend have the same favorite band? No. Do you prefer watching movies or playing video games? Vidya games. Have you ever been go-cart racing? Ha ha yeah, fun. Up in NY with my cousins. How many jobs have you had in your life? Three. Does your shower have a door or curtains? Two curtains. Do you have any posters of your favorite band on your walls? Metallica and Manson, yeah. Are you good at remembering names? NOOOOOOOO. Have you been outside today? No. Have you ever walked the opposite direction on an escalator? No. When making pancakes, do you try to make cool shapes/pictures? No. Do you use your hand when you’re explaining something? Oh yeah. Do you play a lot of video games? Not anymore, really. I would, but I can't afford a new console. I want a PS4 super badly (hell, even a PS3) to play new games, especially ones I haven't seen let's plays of. You can only replay a game so many times before you get bored, y'know? The only game I play regularly is WoW and that's because it has like... endless content to do. Who is your favorite Disney princess? Probably Jasmine. What word do you hate that people use often? (yolo, derp..) None off the top of my head. I just don't care. When was the last time you had hiccups? Idr. Have you ever thrown up from drinking too much alcohol? No. Do you ever buy the same piece of clothing, just in different colors? No. What is the last movie you saw in a theater? The live action The Lion King, I think. How many bank accounts do you have? I don't think I even have one... I know Mom was talking about opening me up one, but like, why. I don't make an income. Have you ever been falsely accused of starting drama? Oh sure. Do you attend church regularly? I never go. Have you ever been to Dairy Queen? Good. Shit. They have THE best chocolate milkshakes. Do you tend to worry a lot? Only always! How old were you when you lost your first tooth? Idr. Do you remember your first time on the internet? Not really, no. Which website do you email from? Hotmail. Do you enjoy receiving souvenirs? Yeah. Do a lot of people dislike you or is it the other way around? Idk. Have you ever had the flu? No, knock on wood. What about strep throat? Yeah. Would you ever consider going on a cruise? No. What is your biggest insecurity? My more "different" interests/hobbies. Have you ever painted a room alone? No. Speaking of which, when did you last paint your room? Never. Have you ever had a terrible hangover? No. Do you ever get migraines? Rarely. Do you know how to garden? I mean, I could put it together... What was the last thing you plugged into an outlet? A phone charger. Do people consider you to be a funny person? I don't know. Do you like children? No. If not, why is this? I'm just... uncomfortable and feel like I'm playing with slime against my will or some shit any time I'm in their presence. I don't like how they stare, I don't like how rude they can be, I hate how demanding they are of attention (YES, I am aware that is healthy behavior for the baby of a social species, I just can't provide it), they ask too many questions... I have a lot of reasons I don't like them. Is there a big age difference between you and the person you like? No. What is the most amusing thing on the internet, in your opinion? YouTube, I guess? Does the future excite you or scare you? Both. What do you plan on doing with the rest of your life? I don't want to think on this. How many huge secrets do you have? I don't know about *huge* secrets... How many people know these secrets? ^ How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once. Do you ever floss? Not really, oops. Have you ever been in a long-term relationship? Two. Ever considered suicide? Yes. If so, did you try to commit suicide? Yes. Is there anyone out there who makes you feel completely useless? No. Do you like texting or calling people more? TEXTING. Don't call me omg. Have you ever painted something and been impressed by it? Yeah. When did you last babysit, if ever? I actually did last week in an emergency situation with my nephew. I was the one and only person capable due to everyone being sick. I was scared as shit and very anxious the whole time, but I did it. Ultimately, it was a good bonding experience for us. Do you have any younger siblings? Yes, one sister. Have you ever thought of someone as useless? I'm sure I've thought of myself like that before. Have you ever considered bleaching your hair? Not to remain blonde, no, but I did that on the occasion I dyed it purple, I think. Do you drink vitamin water? No. Are there any old movies you absolutely love? Well of course. Have you ever had a Big Mac before? No, it doesn't appeal to me. Do you think you attract the opposite sex at a reasonable rate? I don't know or care. Where is your favorite place to travel? Mountainous and wooded areas. What is your goal for the next few months? Do well in school, get back into driving, maybe get a job I can actually handle. Can you count to ten in another language other than your own? German, yeah. And I think Spanish. Have you ever played on a sports team before? Yeah. If you have, what was that sport and when? All of these are from when I was a young kid. T-ball/softball, basketball, cheerleading, soccer... I think that's it? Oh wait, dance for many years as a pre-teen/teen. Have you ever filed a lawsuit on someone? No. Do you think you’re a good singer? Not really. Do you think you have a good sense of style? I don't care. What matters is I myself like what I wear. Do you enjoy reading often? No... but I want to get back into it. Have you ever had a deadly illness? No, thank goodness. Ever had food-poisoning before? No. Where did you last eat dinner at? Like, eat out? I think it was a local Mexican restaurant with Mom and the sis. Have you ever shot a gun before? No. Where do you apply cologne or perfume? My neck and just generally around my torso. I don't really pay attention to exactly where. What completely and totally disgusts you and turns you off? Disrespect is what came to mind first this instance. What song makes you laugh when you hear it? I'unno. Do you take surveys hoping someone will see your answers or just ‘because’? Just because. It's a time-killer and a way for me to just. Talk. Not at anyone, just to get thoughts out of my head. It's therapeutic to me. What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? Chocolate or vanilla, depending on my mood. What diet could you never do? "Raw." <<<< Yeah. Do you have a curfew? No, not that I ever leave the house. Do you actually like your job? N/A What is the last song you sang? I think it was "Ordinary Man" by Ozzy feat. Elton John. GOD I am ready for this album. Describe the best kiss you’ve ever experienced: Bro idk I've had a lot of those and I've never like ranked them in my head. Think to the last time someone said thank you to you, what had you done to earn it? I commented on my friend's picture that she was fUCKING BEAUTIFUL. Grab your cellular. When did you last receive a text message? Like three hours ago. Is there anything that’s worrying you at the moment? Just a lot. Honestly, do you wish there was someone still in your life who used to be but for whatever reason isn’t anymore? I mean yeah, there' s multiple people like that. Who in your household do you not have a good relationship with? My sister's dog. Who in your life are you scared to lose more than anything? Mom.

#survey #quiz #questions

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rebelrebelwrites · 5 years

Text

Desti—ny: Supernaturally-Sized Reylo Crack

SUMMARY: In which Rey and Ben, massive Supernatural fans, accidentally summon an angel, a demon, and two hunters to their watch party for the final season.

NOTES

For Rowan, aka @midnightbluefox, have this incredibly crazy crack set in the Pacific Northwest, where hunters and demons and angels and Den Headmistresses freely roam, sort of. Happy birthday! @thereylowritingden

(P.S. This is easily the silliest thing I’ve ever written as an adult. Ever.)

“How’re we doing on snacks?”

“Popcorn is popped, pizza and plates are artfully arranged in the kitchen buffet-style, and your candy receptacle is primed for a true chocolate binge.”

Rey glared at her boyfriend.

“It’s a candy jar, Ben.”

“Sure, if a grown woman could squeeze into a jar.”

“That was one time, and I’d eaten that special gummy bear without knowing— ”

“It’s a tub, Rey. A candy tub.”

Rey rolled her eyes and resumed digging through their hamper. The clothes were clean, but they hadn’t gotten around to folding them yet, so her Destiel shirt would be a bit wrinkled.

“I can’t believe we had to do laundry just so you could— ”

Rey whipped around, shirt in hand. It wasn’t as wrinkled as she thought it’d be; success.

“Excuse me? What’s that you’re wearing?”

Ben looked down. He’d crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against their bedroom doorframe; now, he let them dangle at his sides.

“You bought this,” he harrumphed, nodding to his Eat More Pie t-shirt.

She grinned.

“That’s right I did! Now come on, we’ve only got like ten minutes ‘til the premiere starts, and everyone else will be— ”

The shrill, almost metallic sound of their apartment intercom interrupted her.

“They’re here!”

She blew past him, dancing over to their front door. She’d barely turned the knob before it burst open; Finn, Rose, and Poe pouring inside with the energy of three sugar-stuffed children.

“9 minutes and 14 seconds until the new season starts!” crowed Finn.

“Are you actually counting down?” Ben asked from behind Rey. He’d followed her into their living room, hands stuffed into his jean pockets and pie shirt still on. Much as he pretended he wasn’t as invested as the rest of them, the truth was, he was just as big of a fan of Supernatural as Rey and the others, and Rey knew Dean was his favorite character.

“Of course he is,” Rose chirped, sidestepping her boyfriends so she could hand Rey a massive apple pie. Rey weighed it in her hands; the whole thing was almost as wide as she was.

“Holy— ”

“Yup!” Rose proclaimed proudly, “It’s caramel apple chocolate peanut butter pie with a candied crumble on top. Thank Pinterest.”

“Dean would be proud,” Rey said, grinning. “Ben, will you go put this in the kitchen with the pizza? I’m gonna go grab our, uh, spooky pre-show surprise while everyone settles in.”

Ben nodded, taking the pie from her with one hand. Rose’s eyebrows lifted a little at that, but she held back her giggle till he’d lumbered away.

“Shut it,” said Rey, blushing. Rose giggled again but pranced over to their couch, snuggling in between Finn and Poe.

Rey took the opportunity to slip back to her and Ben’s bedroom to grab it. When she emerged holding the old book above her head, she received mixed reactions: from their spots on the couch, Finn looked intrigued, Rose wary, and Poe confused. Ben just smirked from where he was perched on their threadbare armchair.

“What the hell is that?”

“Rey found this ratty old joke of a b— ”

“It’s a spellbook!” Rey interrupted him. She raised it higher overhead, beaming.

Everyone else burst out laughing.

“It looks like a community theater prop,” Poe sniggered.

“It… really does,” said Finn, wincing. “Sorry, Peanut, but I think you got duped.”

“Hey now, hey now,” Rose interjected, stifling her laughter, “we don’t know that!” She looked up at her best friend. “Where’d you get it?”

Despite her friends’ teasing, Rey’s smile hadn’t slipped even an inch.

“Rowan,” she shot Poe and Finn a look to quell any more laughter, “You know, my Destiel Discord friend.”

“You’re not actually taking any of this seriously, are you?” Poe asked.

“No, of course not,” Rey said hotly, bending to flip the book open on their coffee table, “it’s just for fun. I figured we’d read a couple of silly passages as a joke before we start the new season, that’s all. She sent it to me as a funny gift.”

She glanced up at Ben, who looked surprisingly pensive.

“What?”

He shook his head but said nothing.

“Well, I’m intrigued,” Poe said, pulling the book toward himself. “It’s silly and hilarious and the Winchesters, bless their beautiful hair, would love us for it. I’m in! Shall we?”

“Me too,” agreed Finn, scooting closer (slightly squashing Rose in the process).

“No harm ever came from reading a book,” Rose added, smiling and shrugging. Rey grinned again and sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, leaning her elbows on the glass to try and read the thing upside down.

“Well, this is gibberish,” said Finn, squinting at the page.

“Gobbledygook. Come on, Shakespeare, lend us a hand,” called Poe, trying to wave Ben over.

Ben rolled his eyes.

“Please, Ben?” Rey asked, “Your experience lecturing about Mary Shelley to high school kids makes you the most qualified.”

His lips twitched; a suppressed smile.

“You’re the one who speaks engineer.”

“Together, then?” she needled him.

He sighed and flopped down next to Rey. Rose turned the book toward them both, and they each grabbed a side.

“It looks like that weird alien font in Microsoft Word,” Rey said, pressing a finger to the first passage.

“It does,” Ben agreed. “Maybe just… try sounding it out?” He bit the inside of his cheek, then started to try and shape words out of all of the odd vowels. “Zod ee reh doh noh koh ah...”

“...beh rah ma geh nah zod peh sah geh…?” Rey continued, reciting the incantation — or whatever you’d call it — like a question. She couldn’t seem to keep her giggles from infecting the gobbledygook.

Rose laughed next to her, and the boys made a show of looking around the room dramatically as if a demon might pop out at any second. Even Ben chuckled.

“Wait, we should check each other’s eyes,” Rose suggested, still giggling, “you know, make sure everyone has the white in their eyeballs.” At that, she actually snorted a little.

Then, the room shook.

The laughter died.

“Sounds like some kind of construction,” started Poe.

“We didn’t see any when we came in,” countered Finn.

“What do you think that was?” Rose asked Rey, frowning. Rey opened her mouth to reply, but the room rocked again; so hard this time she toppled over into Ben’s lap. His arms immediately circled her.

The shaking didn’t relent; in fact, it just got louder and louder, buzzing in their ears and their eyes, so Rey clamped hers shut, trying to drown it all out, and then—

Silence.

“Where the hell are we?” growled a deep voice.

Rey opened her eyes. In front of her, Rose, Finn, and Poe were all wide-eyed with shock. She whipped her head around to see what they were looking at, Ben still clutching her tight. When she saw who it was, her jaw practically fell to the floor.

The cast of Supernatural was in her living room.

Not the whole cast, but Jensen, Jared, Misha, and Mark. Rey’s insides went squiggly as she took each of them in. How did they…?

She ran the risk of some serious drool with her mouth hanging open this much.

By the looks of it, they were halfway through some sort of scene — Jensen had Mark by his shirt collar, anyway, with Jared looming over his shoulder and Misha hovering, all dressed in their character’s costumes. In her living room.

Behind her, Rose let out a strangled little sigh.

“How in the…?” Ben trailed off. He still hadn’t let go of her, which was probably a good thing, because her legs felt like jelly.

“Where the hell did you take us, Crowley?” Jared asked.

“Don’t look at me, Moose. This is above my pay grade. Talk to the giraffe,” Mark replied, rolling his eyes.

“Are you guys serious?” Ben asked, tone caught somewhere between disbelief, confusion, and utter awe. Slowly, his hold on her loosened.

“Oh— ”

“— my —”

“— god!”

Rey couldn’t tell who’d shrieked what; it could’ve been Rose, Poe or Finn, but it was Finn who barreled on. At least someone could string words together — something she was having trouble with at the moment.

“They’re in the middle of a scene!” Finn insisted. “In your… living room. After appearing magically. Right after you guys read that thing in that book. And the whole apartment felt like it was going to come down.” He eyed Jared, grinning weakly. “We’re big fans.”

Jensen groaned.

“Fans? Damn it, don’t tell me we’re in that alternate universe again!” He rounded on Finn, letting go of Mark. “You know us?”

The room fell deathly silent.

“Holy shit,” Rey finally said, realization sweeping over her in a wave. “Guys. It’s them. It’s Dean. And Sam. And Cas. And Crowley. We actually summoned the real thing!”

“Rey, don’t be silly,” Ben said, “They’re actors. You know Sam and Dean aren’t actually real.”

“You know about hunters?” asked Sam.

“Of course we do!” said Rose, springing to her feet. Even feet away, she looked hilarious compared to his giant frame.

“We’re in that alternate dimension again,” Dean groaned, “Did you do this, Cas? If it wasn’t Boris over there, then this has some serious angel stink all over it.”

“It was not me, you know that, Dean,” Cas said solemnly, eyes shining. Dean practically flinched before turning back to them, and Rey couldn’t help squealing a little.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Destiel is so canon!” she shouted. “You two love each other, don’t you?”

“What?!” asked Dean. The slight absence of the typical gravel in his voice was enough for Rey — that, and how Cas’s face fell.

“It’s complicated,” said Cas, body stiff as a straightjacket in his trench. “Anyway, we can deal with that later; I think I know how they summoned us here.”

“Frankly, I’d like to hear more about whatever Destiel is,” quipped Crowley.

“This is insane,” muttered Poe. Like his boyfriend and girlfriend, his eyes kept trailing Sam, who didn’t seem to know what to do with all of the attention apart from averting his eyes.

“Enough!” said Dean. “Go ahead, Cas.”

“These two,” the angel started, stalking toward Rey and Ben, “Seemed to have accidentally summoned me — through multiple dimensions — with a very ancient, very powerful summoning spell.” He bent down, and before Ben could reach for her, Castiel had snatched the book from where it still lay on the coffee table behind them.

“Not sure how it’s possible that you two somehow deciphered Enochian, but here we are,” he finished.

Rey looked at Ben, and then they both shrugged.

“We’re big fans, too?” Ben offered.

“And good at linguistics,” Rey added.

“Right,” Sam said, “Cas, can you get us out of here?”

“Now that I’ve got this back, yes,” he said, tucking the book under his arm. Rey opened her mouth to protest, but the look he gave her made her reconsider. And think that maybe she’d been wrong about who wore the pants in his obvious relationship with Dean.

“I think I’m chuffed here, thanks,” said Crowley, but Sam clapped a massive hand on his shoulder, forcing him to join him in grabbing onto Cas’s trench coat.

“Sayonara, alternate dimension uh… fans,” said Dean. He grabbed Cas’s wrist, noticed Rey watching him like a hawk, then flinched and glanced at Ben. “I like your shirt.”

And with that, there was a flash blinding, white-blue light, and they were gone. Just like that.

“Rowan is never going to believe this,” Rey murmured, slumping to the floor.

“I’m not sure I do, and I was here for the whole thing,” said Ben, joining her.

“Hey,” said Finn, glancing at his watch, “The premiere started over ten minutes ago. Did anyone remember to DVR it?”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” squeaked Rose, falling back in between Poe and Finn on the couch. Poe made a noncommittal sort of grunt, slinking an arm around her, while Finn did the same on her other side.

“Oops,” said Rey.

Everyone looked at each other before erupting into a fit of giggles.

“Well,” said Ben, reaching for the remote — now that Sam had (presumably) left the building, he had the longest limbs, no doubt — “Least we got a special preview.”

“Worth it,” Rey agreed.

THE END

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james-stark-the-writer-wips · 4 years

Text

Of Witches And Demons - An Excerpt

Chapter 2: The Immortals.

WC: 4000 words. Wanted to get this out asap tbh so it’s not the most polished thing but I hope you’ll forgive that and enjoy this!! If you wanna read a slightly more polished version, it’ll be up on wattpad soon so,

LINK

(“Let’s go away a little. Different town, different people. Doesn’t matter where. Just know we’re not in Tenebris anymore although we will get back there soon. Does matter who. So pay attention.” Krilla said. Almadea nodded.)

“So,” Alice said, lighting the candle in her hand. “Who are we this time around?”

The forest was calm, quiet, isolated. They liked coming here a night. Listening to the crickets hiding in the grass, the hooting owls, seeing the moonlight giving everything a soft glow. It was magical. Even after so long, the magic hadn’t faded. The man beside Alice sighed as he looked away from the moon and towards her.

“Who do you want to be?” He took the candle from her. “Billionaires? Eccentrics? Business owners?”

“I can’t decide, Xan.” Alice said.

A soft breeze began to blow, carrying cool water along with it. The candle flame flickered as the wind blew past it. Xander put a hand around the flame to keep it from going out.

“So, you’re here. Took you long enough.” Xander said.

A branch crunched under the foot of the man walking towards Xander.

“I’m sorry I don’t finish as fast as you do, Xander.” The man said.

“You took an unusually long time.” Xander replied.

“I take a perfectly okay time, Xan. You’d think you’d know after two centuries together.” The man stopped in place. The wind began to die down.

“I should, I suppose.” Xan nodded. “Anyway, get over here, Cy.”

“So why the meeting outside?” Cyrus asked.

“I wanted to talk about our plans on Thursday.”

“Couldn’t we have had this conversation in the house?” He protested.

“I wanted the fresh air. Now get over here and stop whining.” Xander said. Cyrus let out a frustrated groan and walked over to the two of them.

“So, have you decided who we’re going to be?” Cyrus asked Alice.

“Well, I’m not sure yet. But definitely something new, someone we haven’t been yet.” She said.

“New, huh?” Cyrus chuckled softly.

“Let’s start at the basics. What have we been?” Xander said.

“Doctors, magicians, circus folk, philanthropists, bakers, politicians...” Cyrus began.

“So, what do you think, Alice?” Xander asked.

“How about ourselves?” Alice said.

“Don’t be naive, Alice. You know we can’t do that.” Cyrus said.

“I’m not saying tell everyone who we are.”

“Then what are you proposing, Alice? You know I hate vague people.” Cyrus leaned against a tree.

“Let’s be a family again instead of distant siblings. I’m tired of playing siblings.”

“Then, what? You wanna be my mother?” Cyrus scoffed.

“It’s not the 1800s, Cy.” Alice replied, picking up the candle and putting it to her nose. “You’d be my father. Besides, you are older than me.”

“You want me and Xander to be your fathers?” Cyrus said.

“Yes. And what’s the problem? You two used to date each other, right?” Alice vaguely pointed at both of them.

“There’s no problem, I’m just confirming.”

Xander interrupted before Cyrus could get another word in. “That’s fine and all, Alice, but what do we do? You know, for a living?”

“We’re rich, that’s for sure. I have had enough of being poor. We’re immortal, for fuck sake. There’s no fun being poor. Certainly not in this world.” She grumbled.

“Okay. Then you better come up with a good reason for us being rich.”

Alice pondered over it for a minute. What should they be? People would ask, that’s for sure. After so many years, Alice had learned that people couldn’t help but stick their noses in other people’s businesses.

Alice snapped her fingers. “Ooh, how about you be oil princes?” She said. “We haven’t done that yet.”

“Both of us?” Cyrus asked.

“No. Don’t be silly. There’s no way anyone would believe that. It’d be more plausible if you started the business together after you met and fell in love or you started the business then fell in love but that feels old.”

“Then, what, pray tell, should we be? It’s your turn, Alice. Otherwise we skip your turn and we do my thing.” Xander said.

“No! We did your thing the last time we moved. I’ll think of something. Just give me a second.”

Cyrus sighed. “Okay, then. Take the night to sleep on it. We have a long trip ahead of us soon, anyway.”

“At least we’re sure of the location, yes?” Alice asked.

Xander nodded. “Yes. That hasn’t changed.”

“Where was it again?” Cyrus asked.

“You know where it is.” Xander said.

“I wasn’t listening when you said it.”

“You’ve got to start paying more attention, Cyrus. You’re wasting that photographic memory of yours.”

“Please, let’s not do this right now, Xan. Just tell me where we’re going. And let’s let Alice decide till tomorrow, yes?”

“Sure, whatever.” Xander let out a soft sigh. “We’re going to Tenebris.” He turned to Alice. Let’s go.” He put a hand on Alice’s back and turned to Cyrus. “You coming?”

“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up. I’m going to enjoy some of that fresh air you dragged me out here for.” Cyrus said.

Xander handed him the candle and began to walk away.

“Where the fuck is Tenebris?” Cyrus called out.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Xander kept walking.

“Don’t be vague, Xan.” Cyrus shouted but Xander and Alice had already walked away.

A slight smile crept onto Cyrus’s face without permission as looked up at the moon, its glimmering light illuminating the entire forest in a silver blanket. Anyone who says the night is evil has never looked at the moon. He thought.

He put his hands in his pockets. The air seemed to grow colder every passing second. He could smell the fresh, wet grass from last night’s shower. It clung to the air like glue, filling it with a soft hint of earthiness everywhere.

He began to walk back towards the mansion they currently resided in. They owned the forest (at least parts of it) and the mansion. They’d bought it to make sure the number of tresspassers and onlookers would go down and it had helped a lot, actually.

But people were getting suspicious. It was time to pack up and move, as they did every twenty or so years, whenever they thought someone was onto them. They’d lived in France, Italy, Russia, Switzerland, India, Japan, Canada, Brazil, Mexico and every big city and country in the world. Now they’d had enough of the city life — one of the primary reasons they’d moved to this town from NY, in fact — and wanted to move somewhere more quiet and peaceful.

While cites sure had their advantages — a prominent one being everyone was too busy to give a shit about new people in town — it got lonely over time. And even in big cities, there was no escaping nosy neighbours.

Though it had been only nine years in this town, they’d decided to move somewhere they could live in peace. A place where they wouldn’t have to worry about getting shot or killed and being found out. This town had its charm but even it’s residents were wondering why the people in the mansion didn’t seem to age a day in the last few years. They’d started believing the ‘good genes, I guess’ excuse even less every time it was told to them.

Cyrus had personally seen what happened when humans found out about one of them being an Immortal.

When Cyrus had been granted the opportunity to be an Immortal, there were eight of them. Now, only Cyrus and Xander remained of the original eight. The others had either died, left to live in isolation or moved away to try their best to stay out of regular human business, trying to live normal lives unhindered.

Alice had only recently – 167 years ago, to be precise – joined them but she was a fine addition. She was the first woman to be turned in almost five centuries.

Cyrus took in a deep breath, letting all of nature’s beautiful smell consume his body as if tasting wine. He took his hands out of his pockets and blew on them to warm them up a bit. It was freezing out here.

Time to head back, he thought as he turned around and began to walk uphill back to the mansion.

With over twenty rooms in the mansion, the place was fit for kings (and had actually once belonged to a prince, of sorts). Everything about this place screamed ‘We have too much money’. Which wasn’t a bad thing, really. They had actually helped build an orphanage in the city, which had finished construction three weeks ago.

The mansion sat alone on a cliff, with no houses for miles and no one to disturb them. From the balcony, you could see the entire town in all its glory.

In one corner, smoke arose from the town’s bakery as Keith, the owner of said bakery, baked the last bread of the day, shutting down for the night.

In another corner, if you lived in a mile radius, you could her Mrs. Radley screaming at her husband for being home late again. As the clock struck ten, the town began to close up, with only the twenty four hour pharmacy and the famous Powers’ Coffee Shop staying on.

Even in this small town, you could see a few people sitting in the coffee shop, writing away on their laptops all night long. It was the students from the nearby college that came out to Powers’ for their famous coffee.

Justin Powers and a single employee kept the shop open all day with them looking after it during the day while Justin’s son Max looked after it at night.

And their coffees were delicious. And, thankfully close by to Joanna’s Pie Shop, the best pies you’ll ever taste.

And in two days time, they would all be a faint memory, never to be seen again, if possible.

Cyrus made his way into the mansion. All the lights had been turned off, no surprise there, and Alice had gone to bed.

Xander, on the other hand, sat by the fireplace, a glass of expensive whiskey in hand and a novel in the other.

“I’m gonna go sleep, Xan. I’ll see you in the morning.” Cyrus said.

“Mmhmm.” Xander said, flipping a page in his book.

Cyrus walked up the stairs and found his way to his bedroom, the smallest of all the rooms in the mansion, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers onto him.

He reached under his bed and grabbed the long stick he kept there. He quickly extended it to the opposite wall and flicked off the light switch. He put the stick back in its place and opened the curtains behind his bed. As he closed his eyes, he found sleep quickly.

As the sun rose above the horizon, Alice woke up, yawning, gently outstretching her arms. She had given much thought to what they should be… and nothing seemed as exciting as good old star crossed lovers. Ala gay Romeo and Juliet. Except without the dying part.

She pushed the bed covers aside, heading straight for the bathroom. She couldn’t wait to tell Xan and Cy what she’d chosen. As she took a quick shower, she began to iron out the details of how it would work and what their story would be. Sure, star crossed lovers was old and cliche, but it was perfect. To be honest, she was always trash for Shakespeare and star crossed lovers. This was a perfect pit. Besides, they’d been siblings for far too long.

About twenty minutes later, the clock rang nine and Alice stepped out of the shower, quickly drying herself off and slipping on a nice pair of jeans and a plain red t-shirt.

She rushed down the stairs, jumping two steps at a time, making her way to the dining table where a sleepy Cyrus sat, slowly sipping on his coffee. Besides him sat Xander eating his regular bowl of cornflakes.

“Guys!” Alice said, rushing to take a seat besides Cyrus.

“Please, just…softer.” Cyrus said, halfway through a sip.

“Just listen. I’ve decided.”

“About?” Xan asked

“Our cover.”

“Alice. Softer.” Cy scolded.

“Shut up, dick.” Alice snarked. She turned her attention to Xan. “So, our cover. I know what we wanna be.”

“Alice, you know what we say about cussing at the table.”

“You’re not my dad!” Alice said.

Xander had a rule about being civilized at the table. It was a surprise he’d managed to uphold it all these years, especially with Alice and Cyrus in the house — half their vocabulary was curse words.

“Well I’m gonna be soon, apparently so you better start listening, right?” Xander retorted.

“Ugh, I hate you.” Alice groaned.

“Perfect. Means I’m being a good parent.”

“So much wrong with that statement but we don’t have the time to explain all that. Anyway can you just listen to me?”

“Alright alright. Go on, I’m listening.” He shoved a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth.

“Right. Our story. You two are, drum roll please,” She paused until Xan put down his spoon and reluctantly did a little series of taps on the table, “star crossed lovers.”

“Good god.” Cyrus sighed. “Why did we let her choose again?”

“I can hear you, you know.” Alice said.

“Her birthday comes up soon. It’s her gift.” Xan reminded, not noticing it was a rhetorical question.

“So,” Alice continued, unfazed. “I’ve been thinking all night and Xan was the rich guy…”

“Obviously.” Xan said, taking a bite of his food. Alice rolled her eyes.

“Would you just let me tell it?”

“Okay!” Xan backed off. “Sorry.”

“Right, so, Xan was the rich guy. You met at a mutual friend’s party, had drinks together and hooked up. Cyrus was still in the closet at the time and his dad was super homophobic. But, you kept seeing Xan because you felt a connection. When you meet him the second time, three days have passed. Xan sees you and says, “I’ve been waiting for you.” And you ask, “For three days?” and he nods and you kiss him in public for the first time. You stay over for the night but the next day your dad finds out. He’s threatened to cut you off if he sees you with Xan again.” She paused for a breath.

“But, you like him so much, you risked being broke. Your family isn’t super rich, but you do pretty well. You went off to live with Xan and your dad said he cut you off. But, your dad suddenly falls ill only you don’t learn that until a week later when your mom calls you to his funeral. He couldn’t bear to see you go and he died of a heart attack. When his will is read after the funeral, you realize he never took you out of it. In fact, he left you most of his possessions. You give a lot of it to your mom and you and Xan continue living together. After two years, you have an amazing fall wedding. Then the year after that, you adopted me from an orphanage at age six or something. At this point, Xan is 28 and Cy, you’re 26. And since then, it’s been like eight or nine years and now I’m starting high school.”

Xan almost spit out his milk. “Wait, hold up. You’re going to high school?”

“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t really get to go back when I turned and I haven’t really been to one since. It’ll be a good learning experience. Plus what am I gonna be? Homeschooled? I need to start hanging out with people my own age!”

“Good luck finding a hundred and seventy year old people. Do you need me to buy you a graveyard, hon?” Cyrus teased. Alice ignored him.

“It’s going to be awful. You haven’t been to school for what, a hundred and sixty eight years at this point?” Xander said.

“Sixty seven.” Alice corrected. “Sixty eight next month.”

“Yeah, a lot has changed since then.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll pick things up quick.” Alice reassured him. “Plus there will be cute boys and girls there.” She added softly.

“You can’t be serious.” Cyrus put his cup down, fully awake now, and turned to Xander for an answer.

“Oh, come on, Xan.” Alice begged.

“Eh, let her do it. She’ll be fine. You know how she can be if she doesn’t get what she wants.” Xan resigned, after some thought. He continued eating.

“Yay!” Alice squealed, jumping out of her seat. “You lose, I win!” She stuck her tongue out, making a face at Cy. He ignored her.

Alice blew a raspberry. She turned to Xan. “So, when do we leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, earlier if we can manage it.” He chewed on his food before continuing. “Start packing, say your goodbyes.”

“Great. I’m gonna go do that then.” Cy stood up and left the room.

“I’m gonna go to Joanna’s then. Grab some breakfast and say goodbye.”

“Bring something back for me and Cy, yeah?” Xan said.

“Sure.” Alice grabbed her coat, her purse, the car keys and rushed out the door.

Joanna’s Pie Shop was a quaint little shop, tucked between a McDonald’s and a Starbucks. But it got by surprisingly well, all because of how goddamn delicious Joanna’s pies were.

Alice had eaten a lot of things in her relatively small existence but having had a taste of Joanna’s pies was her most proud moment.

“Joanna!” She called out as she pushed open the door and walked in.

“Coming, darling!” Joanna’s voice came from inside the kitchen. “Just getting some pies ready. Be out in a minute. Take a seat.”

Alice took a seat on the black bar stools by the counter and sat patiently as she waited for Joanna to come out.

Joanna arrived from the kitchen with thick gloves and trays with steaming hot pies, her apron covered in flour.

“Hot from the oven!” She announced, placing the tray on the counter and slipping off the thick gloves. “Want a slice?”

“Yeah.” Alice said. “A full Chocolate Coconut Creme for me, two slice of green apple for Cy and a slice of Pumpkin pie for Xander.”

“Coming right up.” Joana said. “Feel free to help yourself to some coffee if you want.” She grabbed a mug from behind her and handed it to Alice.

“Thanks, Jo. You’re the best.”

Joana smiled before disappearing back into the kitchen.

As Alice sipped on her coffee, Joana walked out of the kitchen with the pies. “Here ya go, hon.” She quickly stuffed them into a large box and handed it to Alice.

“Thanks. How much is it?” Alice asked.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s on the house. I’m in a good mood today. Plus you’ve already done so much for us.”

“Oh, come on, Jo. This’ll be the last time you get to charge me.”

Joana gave her a puzzled look, “What do you mean, hon?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” Alice said.

“You’re not dying or nothing, right, hon?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Alice reassured her.

Joana let out a deep sigh of relief “Well, good. Then what is it?”

“We’re moving. Me, Xan and Cy.”

“Moving?” Joana gasped. “Where?”

“It’s far. That’s all I can tell you about it. It’s family business.”

“But you’ll come back eventually, right?” Joana asked.

“No, I’m afraid not. We’ll be staying there permanently.” Alice said softly.

“Permanently?” Joana couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Alice nodded. “So, this is… technically, goodbye.”

Joana choked up. “When uh— When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. Afternoon. Maybe earlier.”

“Oh. Alright then.” Joana cleaned her hand on her apron and wiped off a tear.

“I’m sorry, it’s just the decision was so sudden. We made plans last night.”

“No, it’s fine. Just, before you leave, promise me you’ll stop by one last time? For old times sake?”

“I’ll try, Jo.”

“No, promise me, Alice. Just stop by before you leave. It shouldn’t take very long.”

“I’m sorry, it’s out of my hands. But I’ll try my best.”

“Very well then. I hope you come.” Joana started to go back in the kitchen.

Alice held up the box. “Joana? How much?”

“Like I said, Alice. They’re on the house. Enjoy them. I’m not gonna charge you and that’s final.”

Alice smiled. “I’m gonna miss you, Jo.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, hon.” Joana disappeared back into the kitchen.

Alice sighed and walked out of the shop.

The next day came quickly and everyone rushed frantically to stuff their things into a million bags. It’s insane how much junk you collect over the years. A lot of it would go into the storage facility they’d kept over the years but beyond that, everything else they were attached to came with them.

This time, the furniture, most of the paintings, the utensils, some small things and other stuff they didn’t want all stayed. They’d decided to donate the mansion to the city and open it to the public for free use by anyone. Xander had even talked to some of the townspeople to turn it into a lodging for the homeless free of cost of something similar. But now they had to leave so who knew what would happen to the house?

The truck came, the important stuff was loaded in and Cyrus and Alice sat in the car, waiting for Xander to lock everything up and bring out his bags. Finally, he did come out and got in the car.

“Ready?” He asked, putting on his seatbelt.

“Yeah.” Cyrus said.

“Hey, Xan, you mind if we stop by Joana’s? She asked me to stop by if we could.”

“What’s the time right now?”

“It’s uh, 1:36 pm.” Cyrus said.

“Sure. We’ve got some time to kill. I guess that’d be alright. Plus I have to go give the house keys away too.”

“Great. Just drop me off at hers then and come pick me up after you’re done.”

“Alright, give me a second to go tell the driver the plans have changed.” Xander said, getting out of the car. He returned quickly.

“He’s gonna go ahead and he’ll be waiting on the outskirts of town for us to lead the way.”

“Cool.” Cyrus said. “Turn the AC on and let’s go already.” He put in headphones and lied down on the backseat, using his forearm as a pillow. “And wake me up when we get there.”

Xander sighed. “Fine.”

The car whirred to life.

Joana stood idly in the shop, expectantly staring at the door, waiting for Alice and the other two to arrive.

As she saw their car turning the bend, she rushed out from behind the counter and ran outside.

“You came!” She said as Alice opened the car door.

“Yeah.” Alice said.

“No, no don’t get out.” Joana said. “Or I’m going to start crying and I don’t want to ruin my makeup. “Just wait here, I’ll be back in a second.”

“O-okay.” Alice said.

“What’s wrong?” Xander asked.

“She told me to wait here.”

“Fine.” Xander said.

Joana reemerged from the shop carrying a large box of pies. She quickly handed it to Alice.

“What’s this?” Alice asked, opening the box.

“It’s my coveted smores pie. With extra marshmallows. Made them specially for you this morning.”

“Thank you, Joana.”

“I’m gonna miss you, hun.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Alice said.

“Now go, before the waterworks start.” Joana said.

Alice nodded, closing the car door. As the car drove away, Joana waved a last goodbye.

Almost thirty six straight hours of driving later, Xander called out for Cyrus who had woken up and gone to sleep multiple times at this point.

“Cy, we’re almost there.” Xander said.

“We’re here?” Cyrus sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Just about. We’ll be there in five.”

“Great.” Cyrus said.

The car slowly cruised along the road, the truck following behind as they passed into Tenebris’s borders.

“Welcome to Tenebris, babe.” Xander said to Cyrus.

“I am not calling you babe.” Cyrus said.

“You better start.” Xander said. “Our daughter wants us to, don’t you, hun?”

“Mmhmm.” Alice said.

“Fuck you both.” Cyrus said.

“Yeah, love you too, babe.”

Cyrus let out a frustrated groan. God, he wished this wouldn’t last long. It already felt weird. But, here they were: in Tenebris, a town smackdab in the middle of fucking nowhere. And for a while, this would be their home.

#writeblr #writblr #writing #creative writing #original writing #wip #owad #Of Witch And Demons #excerpt #excerpts from my writing

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geek-patient-zero · 4 years

Text

Part 2, Chapter 2

Or: Prospect Fights

Blood War: Masquerade of the Red Death Trilogy Volume 1

Brooklyn, NY—March 14, 1994

Last chapter we were introduced to our second main protagonist (and secret “former” ancient vampire) Alicia Varney, her manservant (and sometimes lover but only if she’s really desperate) Sanford Jackson, and her (ignorantly treated and no doubt illegally owned) pet black panther Sumohn. Miss Varney decided to start her day off by taking her pet for a walk in “Prospect Heights Park”, which Jackson described as a virtual No Man’s Land abandoned by the police and local government to gangs and psychos.

Before we move on, let’s talk a bit about the place.

In real life, the park this chapter takes place in is called Prospect Park. No “Heights”. Looks like Weinberg got the name confused with Prospect Heights, a small but affluent neighborhood and one of five that border the park. The park’s main entrance, Grand Army Plaza, is part of Prospect Heights, so along with the name and location I can see how you can confuse the two.

There really was a point, during the 70′s, where the park was considered dangerous and crime-infested. I know. A place in New York City? In the 70′s? Awful? Nah, can’t be. Back then, 44% of New Yorkers warned others to avoid the park. One New York Times article I’ve found from 2010, about a then-retiring park administrator credited with helping restore the place, begins with this about 1970′s Prospect Park:

Drugs were sold at the carousel. Muggers used the cover provided by the park’s shrubs and foliage. One year, near the skating rink, a man was found shot to death, and another year, the acting supervisor of the zoo was arrested and charged with shooting animals.

In the 1970s, Prospect Park in Brooklyn looked more like a crime scene than the pastoral refuge imagined a century earlier by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux.

As if to advertise the woeful state of the park, in 1976 Columbia, the figure driving atop the arch at Grand Army Plaza, fell over in her chariot, a victim of disrepair.

So don’t go thinking that Weinberg got all this stuff from nothing.

During the 80′s and early 90′s, thanks to efforts from both the city and non-profits like The Prospect Park Alliance, the park was cleaned up and became a nice safe place to take the kids. But this is the World of Darkness, a Harsher, Crueler Yadda Dadda Da, you get the point. Going with the usual theme of “Everything’s Awful, Always, and We’re All Going to Die (And There’s Werewolves N’ Shit)” what little restoration efforts were made to the park in this universe failed miserably. And hoooohoho man did they fail. Here’s how the chapter starts, with a more thorough description of the park now that we’ve got a viewpoint character there:

Huge white signs with blood-red lettering were posted on every gate leading into the park, declaring the area off-limits to law-abiding citizens. The posters, left untouched more as a grim joke than sage advice, were ignored by the crowds of people who constantly entered and left the forested area. Prospect Heights served as the major supply center of illicit drugs, assault weapons, and kept women in New York City. It was also the headquarters of more than a half-dozen major gangs and two terrorist groups.

Anything illegal could be bought for a price in the dense woods. That purchasing the goods required a certain amount of risk was a fact of life. It was all part of the New York scene. Those who couldn’t adapt, left. Or died.

A fifteen-foot-high steel fence surrounded the entire park. The last attempt of a previous administration to keep the cancerous growth of the park from spreading through Brooklyn and the connecting boroughs, it worked more as a barrier to keep the police out than the criminals in. At least once a month, a body was found impaled on the sharp spikes that topped the posts. Several years ago a dozen heads had decorated the pikes for days, a grim reminder of the gang warfare that waged incessantly within the gates.

It’s like if instead of closing down and becoming an auto parts shop, your local Blockbuster turned into a snuff film distributor. Also, goddamn terrorists moved in.

No one dared to enter the park alone, or unarmed. Unless that person was Alicia Varney.

Walking in with a panther doesn’t mean you’re accompanied and armed? Good to know, good to know.

It’s currently early afternoon, and let’s see... She got up at sunrise, which in March would be between six and six-thirty. The events of the last chapter seemed to have taken about over an hour. She’d have to get from Manhattan to Brooklyn in World of Darkness New York City traffic. Assuming she was driven she probably didn’t beat rush hour. If she had really bad luck, she would’ve had to deal with squeegie-men; y’know, those guys who wash the windows of cars stuck in traffic without being asked and try to extort the driver for the “service”? And she’d have to take a route that avoided the Baseball Furies. Add all that up and... I guess? Frankly, early afternoon’s the best case scenario here.

Varney, with Sumohn by her side with a thin leather strip for a leash, enters the park near the giant carousel (which according to the PPA website is the Willink entrance, east side of the park, at Flatbush Avenue and Empire Boulevard). The carousel was “one of the last efforts in the futile attempt to restore Prospect Heights to its former glory”, making it sound like the whole thing was installed recently instead of being a part of the park since the early 1900′s.

Alright, alright, no more park talk. You’re here for vampires, not Brooklyn history, I get it.

The black panther growled softly with every step. A great deal different than an ordinary jungle cat, the monstrous beast possessed more than five senses. It detected hostility in the woods. And death.

After what we’ve been told about the park, no shit, cat.

I’ve seen some WOD vampire OC’s described as having ghoul pets, There’s this one video campaign on Youtube, Blood on the Thames, where the Nosferatu character has a pet ghouled fennec fox. But when you think about it, if ghouling works the same with animals as it does with people, then they’re not really pets. They’re mental slaves, their feelings of love and loyalty toward their owner artificial. They might look happy to see your OC, but in reality it’s having a little heart attack out of fear because the thing rubbing its belly is an unnatural dead thing that God hates and they can’t do anything but let it. And your OC wouldn’t even know.

But I’ve never seen that aspect explored before. In fanworks, Ghouling’s just a way for a vampire to have a pet with an extended lifespan. In official material, there’re other important benefits to ghouling animals. Feeding them a little vampire blood every once in a while makes them bigger, faster, and stronger, and since they’re compelled to be loyal to you, they make useful weapons. We’ll see that a few times in this trilogy.

Sumohn senses something dangerous in the park, and you won’t be surprised to learn that the she and her owner aren’t here just for exercise.

“I feel it too,” said Alicia softly, talking to the panther as if it possessed human intelligence. “They’re out there in the park somewhere. Watching and waiting for me. I first sensed their presence when I woke up this morning.

We saw you wake up this morning. You shimmied around in your sheets naked while thinking about how good it was to be alive. Then took a shower and masturbated. But maybe ancient Mesopotamians have a different way of reacting to threats on their life. How would I know?

Someone wants me dead. They’re hiding in the woods. I thought it best to confront them here, on their home ground, instead of chancing their disrupting my plans for the evening.”

She sensed this one threat in Brooklyn all the way from her Manhatten penthouse. Fucking Methuselahs...

Once they’re far enough into the woods for the setting to be dark and ominous even in the afternoon, Varney takes the collar and leash off Sumohn so it can hunt down her enemies.

Chuckling, Alicia tucked the leather strap into her belt. She had complete faith in her pet. It would find and eliminate those who meant her harm. It was just a matter of time.

While Sumohn’s hunting her enemies, Varney decides to take a stroll and enjoy nature. Big business Manhattan garbage had been cutting into her free time, and it’s been months “since she had experienced the feeling of freedom walking in the woods gave her.” She plans on enjoying it as fully and luxuriously as she does everything else, all the while “mentally” keeping an eye out for threats.

Alicia had no desire to be surprised by unexpected visitors. Jackson had been correct when he said that Prospect Heights was no place for a young, unarmed woman. But Alicia was a great deal older than her bodyguard imagined. And she was not nearly as unprotected as Jackson thought.

She hears Sumohn’s “scream of rage” break the silence, meaning her pet had just made a kill. Unfortunately, despite Varney making it sound like the panther would wipe out her enemies on its own, Sumohn worked too slowly. Varney abruptly realizes that she was surrounded by five other people. She can’t see them yet, but she can sense them with her psychic radar power that I’m assuming is an Auspex power. Two of them are heading toward her, so she summons Sumohn back to her. This being a vampire story, she does this with a brief theater kid monologue.

“I refuse to let anyone interrupt my plans,” muttered Alicia angrily. “Death is not an acceptable option at this stage of the game. Sumohn, attend me. There is killing work to be done here.”

The two hostiles reach her.

“Hey, lady?” The speaker was a short, thin man around thirty, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans. He wore no shirt, despite the cool March weather. A tattoo of a naked woman with an arrow passing through her breasts adorned his hairless chest. Stuck in the waist of his pants was a .45 automatic. “You lost or something?”

“Yeah, said his companion, tall and wide, with a shaven head, pencil-thin eyebrows, and a perpetual leer. He also wore jeans and no shirt. A 12-gauge shotgun, carried loosely in one hand, was his weapon. “Or maybe you’re looking for some action.”

They weren’t called “swarthy,” so these must be white gangbangers.

Varney realizes the assassins plan to rape her before killing her, because this is dark fantasy and rape’s gonna get brought up eventually. There’s some prose about sex and death being linked throughout history, especially hers, then she begins to deal with these guys. Now, you figure she’ll start with one of her vampire powers. Maybe a Presence power, making the gang awed and infatuated with her and drawing them into killing distance. Or maybe she’ll skip messing with their heads and use Celerity to boost her speed and reflexes, swiftly killing them before they can reach for their guns. Or

“Actually,” declared Alicia, taking a tentative step forward, “I was looking for some big, handsome men to satisfy the hunger inside me. I need to be fucked. Repeatedly. Do you two think you can help me?”

...Or that?

“Huh?” said the short man, her reply taking him completely by surprise. His face turned beet red. It was an old trick, but one that still worked. The jerks expected her to cower in fear, beg for mercy–not talk about sex. They weren’t sure how to respond.

Gun her down immediately because this is clearly a trap.

Look, despite how I might come across, I don’t get bothered every time a character does something irrational or wrong in a story. But considering this gang shares their territory with six or seven other gangs and two terrorist groups, and one bad move could get their heads mounted on the park perimeter, there’s no way they should be stupid enough to fall for this. But they do, because the writer wanted to contrive a scene where Alicia Varney “weaponizes her sexuality” I guess.

Varney’s “vulgar declaration” also lures out the three other men, who “didn’t want to miss out on any of the action.” Now all of her enemies are in view, but considering she could sense their presence accurately enough to know exactly how many of them there are, she really didn’t have to.

“You heard me,” said Alicia, raising her voice so that everyone could hear her. “I’m burning up. I want it so bad my body feels like it’s on fire.” She ran her hands up and down her hips, pressing the material of her pants tight against her skin. She moaned passionately. “If I don’t get it quick, I’ll go crazy.”

“Hot damn,” said the big man excitedly, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the buttons of his pants. “The bitch wants to get screwed, and I’m going to nail her right now. The rest of you jokers wait in line, ‘cause I’m first.”

God damn, this is so unnecessary.

The shorter guy struggles with his belt in an attempt to beat his friend to the sex, but thankfully this whole bit comes to an end when Sumohn pounces on him and pulps his head with her jaws. Trusting the panther to take care of the other guy as well, Varney turns to the three other gang members. They try to aim their guns at her, but instead start jerking around “in a ghastly parody of dancing”, unable to shoot her as she approaches.

“What the hell is wrong?” screamed the nearest of the trio, a young black man still in his teens. “I can’t do nothing.”

“A simple matter of paralyzing the part of the brain controlling motor skills,” said Alicia with a smile.

There’re some Thaumatergy powers that could do this, but Varney will turn out to have nothing to do with the Tremere, so it’s unlikely this is any of those. There’s also Paralyzing Glance, an advanced Presence power that can “send someone into a seizure of terror.” Or maybe I’m overthinking it and she’s just generically psychic.

Varney kills the teenager first by tearing out his throat, her technique described more thoroughly than when Makish ripped out a guy’s throat. The second guy, she uses the old “smash his nose cartilage into his brain” move, the second time someone’s been killed that way in this story, and not the last time someone will be in this trilogy. Apparently it’s impossible to do. Even if cartilage was strong enough to penetrate bone, using enough force to do so would likely smash the victim’s skull in anyway. But it sounds cool and Weinberg was probably fond of it. He also seemed to think it would result in a quick death because he described Varney as “merciless but not cruel” before she does it. Anyway, the third guy faints, so Varney snaps his neck while he’s unconscious.

“Very neat, Miss Varney,” said a voice from behind her. “But not really very smart. You let yourself get distracted by the diversions. I’m the real threat.”

Alicia turned, knowing she was too late.

If the assassin who snuck up on you is this chatty and you still don’t turn around by the time he’s finished, you should feel embarrassed.

Sumohn’s too busy tearing apart the guy who was taking his pants off earlier to notice her owner’s in trouble, “a wonderful ally but was too easily tempted” as the narration puts it. This sixth guy, her “true enemy” who somehow evaded her telepathic people sensor, is a well dressed young man already squeezing the trigger on his submachine gun. But instead of Varney dying and ending her role in the story weirdly early, the assassin drops with the handle of a bowie knife sticking out of his back.

“I paralyzed his fingers so he wouldn’t jerk the trigger by accident,” said a blonde man in a white suit and white shirt, walking over to the corpse. Bending down, he jerked the knife out of the body and wiped the blood on the dead man’s clothes.

Hey, Reuben.

He tells Varney that the dead guy was named Leo Taggert, who was headquartered in Coney Island and specialized in “celebrity kills”. The other jerks were local talent he hired. He was also a ghoul who could hide his thoughts, which is why Varney didn’t sense him. Varney asks who Reuban is, thinking he looks familiar yet positive she’d never met him, but Reuben only says he’s “a friend.”

He turned and started walking down the road. “Better call off your pet,” he said in parting. “That man’s quite dead.”

Distracted for an instant, Alicia glanced at Sumohn. When her gaze returned to where the stranger had been, he was gone.

Quickly she mentally scanned the area. Discounting a drug dealer and his teenage customers, there was no one within a hundred yards of her location. It was quite mysterious. Alicia hated mysteries.

Varney asks Sumohn if she saw Reuban, but because she’s a big dumb animal all Sumohn’s thinking about is “blood and death.” And probably mating, because Varney doesn’t seem like the type who spays her pets. She didn’t notice the stranger either during or after the attack, like he appeared and disappeared out of thin air.

“And this SOB,” said Alicia, kicking the dead body of Leo Taggert in frustration, “called me by my name. He was no ordinary assassin hired by my business rivals. He was a ghoul. Which ties him in with the Kindred. And the joker knew enough about me to hide his thoughts. Damn.”

At least her first fight went better than McCann’s. The only thing he has over her in this department is that he didn’t try to distract his would-be assassin with the idea of unexpected sex.

Varney assumes that Jackson’s loyal, so she figures whoever wants her dead has either been watching her closely, or they’re linked to her “friends” at The Devil’s Playground.

First there had been the distressing tiding about Baba Yaga. Now came this assassination attempt, coupled with the appearance of the oddly familiar young man. Alicia wondered grimly what else could go wrong.

It was a question best not asked.

That’s the end of the chapter. Alicia Varney’s “weaponized sexuality” scene in this chapter is the lowest/most awkward this trilogy gets. The good news is, no matter what other dumb things happens, it’s all uphill from here.

#vampire the masquerade #vampire: the masquerade #vtm #world of darkness #blood war

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Psycho Ex gets my egoless revenge with a side of heavy-duty karma.

The following story occurred over the course of 13-8 years ago, and I apologize preemptively for the length, because it is a bit involved.

I was in a relationship for 9 years with a girl I met in college. We broke up on the cusp of my 29th birthday. While breakups and divorce are never trauma-free, this one was as close to that as I believe is humanly possible to get, there were no fights and minimal drama, and I moved to a new city to get a fresh start and be nearer my dad/stepmom/half sisters, as I'm close to them and it was nice to have family during this. Get an apartment, start over, everything's good. Then I meet "her."

Things with her seemed good at first. She was the polar opposite of my ex. She's quiet yet nice, had her life relatively together (my first wife was very unfocused and horrible with money), physically a complete contrast, wild in the bedroom--I thought I had hit the jackpot.

Anyhoo, I fall for her hard. We have a whirlwind romance, move in shortly, and we have this glamorous life where we make good money (she was a corporate accountant, I had a decent small business, we're pulling in 150K+ combined), renting a luxury apartment, one car paid and the other brand new, no kids. Things are great, except that we drink too much together and some other underlying issues I'm blind to at the time. We get soused one night and drive to Vegas, and get married on the strip after 6 months of dating and 9 of knowing each other. The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers from version 1.0, but no matter, I'm in love. My family likes her overall. Her family loves me. We adopt cats. We talk about trying to have a kid.

We upgrade our life and take on more debt, just as the housing bubble bursts and the economy tanks, she loses a couple jobs due to her inability to show up on Mondays, and I start losing clients as the ones I have start cutting their advertising budget (my field). Things start to get pinched, and she first starts complaining, then gets petulant, because now we can't spend the way we used to, the quarterly mini-vacations dry up, plus we're cooking at home instead of going out to eat 4x a week. We basically stop having sex a little more than a year into the relationship (didn't realize it then, because I was dumb and love-blind, but she cheated on me during this period).seRealizing what we're up against with our normal bills plus our credit cards, I go out and get a job bartending at a posh resort, the only other real skill I have at the time that's marketable. I get two other part time gigs to help make ends meet. She still complains, and throws me an ultimatum before I even start getting paychecks, laying the blame at my feet. I say fine, screw this then. Had we stuck it out even a few more months, things would have started to turn a financial corner. Instead, she goes full two-faced, mean-spirited bitch on me. The night we first fight, she "attempts suicide" by scratching her wrist with a leatherman, then calls 911, gets admitted to the hospital (I arrive home to cops telling me this), and has the security guard toss me when I show up to see if she's okay because she doesn't want to talk to me. I use the quotes because there was a small collection of firearms nearby I bought for her target shooting hobby which were untouched, so it was obviously just a ploy for attention.

We basically fight for the next week, I give her everything she wants, which includes leaving the house, signing over my new truck to her, and only taking stuff I brought into the relationship, basically enough to fill a small storage space. She's financially pinched so I sell my office furniture for cash and don't even touch the bank account, just take my biz money and one CC I got separate from her. I go to the Bay Area for a few months, financially struggle, don't get the job I was sure was on lock. During this time, I have this revelation one evening--I drink too much and that it's caused a load of problems in my life, so I quit, and I haven't touched a drop since.

Broke and realizing nothing I try is working, I come back to town, live with my dad for a month, find a roommate, then a shit retail job (my business has dropped from 7-8K per month at its height to now around 500/mo), I bike everywhere bc I can't afford a car, and my credit is toast partially due to her love of spending on plastic, so I'm facing bankruptcy. I'm 31, and this is really humbling, but whatever, I'm alive, have dealt with hardship before, this won't last forever. She has kept her house, declared personal BK on her debts, keeps her car, and has been dating a series of men starting a couple weeks after we split. While I never asked the details, apparently she's also reached out to a few of my friends and badmouthed me a bit. This would be mildly annoying, but add in two factors--she's dragging her feet on the divorce due to not having money to file, keeps up contact on the pretense of us needing to talk, but plays emotionally manipulative head games during the whole sequence ("I've realized I still love you, that's why you can make me cry so easily," and other bullshit Hallmark movie lines like this). Also, we live in a suburb that's smaller and tightly knit, so multiple places I go to like my church, the bookstore I frequent, and the coffee shop right by my place, she talks endless shit to people. Says I was a cheater and physically/emotionally abusive (complete crap, but whatever), I'm stalking her, I supposedly stole tens of thousands of dollars from her, the whole nine. Some people actually believe her, I even get threatened by a wannabe biker one night that's literally twice my age with violence, itself a funny story but not the point.

Finally, after some more bullshit and back and forth, she leaves town (more falsehoods around this, including her borrowing a bit of money she didn't end up paying back, and sticking me with a massive overage on our cell bill right before we split the account). My dumb, trusting heart hurts but I'm mostly relieved to see the last of her, realizing she's only nice to me when she wants something. She goes to NY to shack up with another guy, gets pregnant 15 minutes later. Finally sends me divorce paperwork. I sign it and send back quickly, all notarized docs, everything organized and flagged. She attempts to be "friends" and I want no part of this BS. I'm businesslike, she gets upset. She screws up filing, blames me. I say "whatever," straighten out the court issues. One week after the divorce is finalized, the kid is born. No word from her after that for two years, thank god. I get a new career, start advancing in it, and start dating a new woman that I'm still with 10 years later. Weirdly enough, they knew each other, and she didn't like her, partially because one of my ex's infidelity partners was her ex-husband, during a time they were exploring patching things up for the kids' sake (though there were multiple reasons for her distrust, apparently she always gave my wife an icky intuitive feeling).

So flash forward two years. I get a call from my current squeeze. She's just talked to a friend who was also a very brief roomie of "her" after our split. She's breaking up with the baby daddy. There's a custody fight. He's saying he doesn't know if it's his. Will I help her? Well, it's the right thing to do, so even though I don't trust or particularly like her, I say yes. I get the call, and a sob story. Most of it doesn't add up--he took the kid, but thinks it's actually mine, to prove paternity I'd need to come to NY and take a paternity test at one of their facilities, also he hit her, put a GPS tracker on her car, brother is a Russian mobster who threatened her, all very far-fetched. Needless to say, even without this fanciful tale, I generally assume if this woman is talking, it's a lie, so I'm suspicious. Her lawyer calls me, and seems like a clueless shmuck. I get a letter from him, very unprofessional and not even on a letterhead (every other legal doc I've seen has "from the law offices of blah blah" on it, but this is literally just off a laser printer), and says, verbatim "I, M___ K___, am the ex-husband of J___ K___, and was married to her from 6/07-8/09. I have no legal interest in the child." Super shady.

Not wanting to end up in a situation where I've allowed myself to be legally fucked over, I make my own lawyer consultation appointment. Before I can even go, the baby daddy finds me on Facebook and sends me a message. Between calls with him, his lawyer, and the impartial lawyer NY state appoints for the child's welfare, I get a very different story. He knows it's his, he had a paternity test done on the sly at birth because she had been promiscuous before they got together, and she was pregnant so quickly he was concerned. They broke up because she was drinking too much, he busted her with a bottle of vodka as she was driving with the kid in the car. She stood up in court, claimed I was actually the father, and she had no idea where to find me (he found me in 10 seconds online, I'm a tech guy with massive social media presence, a tech blog, multiple writing credits on publications, my frigging name as a domain, plus I've had the same cell phone number for 14 years). Also the other BS was just that, he's an IT guy for a university and his brother works for a carpet cleaning chain, plus just like in our relationship, he never hit or stalked her, etc.

So she, not knowing what I know, starts sending me text messages. I say "Filled out and on its way back to your lawyer," and toss it in the trash. I'm so tempted to send her some poetic message about how the truth is coming back to haunt her, but I resist, because I'm not doing this for her, but rather for the sake of their son and his father, so let's keep my ego out of it. I provide legal statements to all in the court. Tell them I know it's not possibly mine because I hadn't been with her since April 15 of '08, kid's birthday is in Sept of '09 (I remember the date because, due to taxes, I got fucked twice that day). Explain when she was in NY, which is the likely dates of conception, prove I was thousands of miles away on the west coast. Tell them to look through her social media, where she meticulously tagged herself and took tons of pictures of even their mundane locations. Provide a blood sample to a local lab. Tell them salacious details about her drinking and occasional drug use, including her abused prescriptions and a previous hospitalization where she was held for psych eval due to taking way too many pills.

Court comes, and she gets blindsided. Stack of depositions and a collection of statements from me were what sealed the deal, apparently, and the incredibly stupid game she was running is fully exposed. Gets no custody, no support, supervised visitation once a week. I run into her ex-roomie, upset, but instead of giving her attitude, I just calmly tell her the scam J__ was running, then let her "pull out of me" the truth about our split. She's flabbergasted, but also a horrible gossip, so it gets around town like wildfire. People I barely know, including the aforementioned biker, all come up to me and apologize for misjudging me. I'm years past the stage of having any morbid curiosity to check her social media, but every few months she pops up as a "suggested friend," and I notice bemusedly the number of mutual friends plummets from triple digits to eventually 3. Baby's father sends me a massive Amex gift card for Christmas, as much as I make in a week at the time. I call and tell him I don't know if I can accept it, I don't want him or anyone to think I did this for a reward. He virtually begs, saying "you helped save my family. This is nothing in comparison. Thank you." We break down crying on the phone, and eventually form an odd, distant friendship based on mutual respect for each other. I even had dinner with him a couple times when I had to go to NY for biz over the years, and I always buy, because the poor guy has done enough and gone through enough having to coparent with this train wreck.

To this day, she's apparently struggling to stay sober (alcohol and other substances), and has minimal involvement in her child's life due to her inability to show up when expected. Baby daddy tells me she's been in legal trouble, financial issues up the ass, and a string of boyfriends that never last more than a few months. I'm doing well, got married again three years ago, raised step-children, am reasonably financially successful, and rather like my life. Granted, a large part of this story is just karma in action, but I feel like I did the right thing, wasn't petty, and what I did do hit her where it hurts.

TL;DR: Ex-wife fucks my life, destroys me financially, tries to trash my reputation, then tries to use me as a scheme in her custody battle years later. I talk to the court directly, work with the baby daddy's lawyers, and get her exposed for the psycho, lying wench she is. She loses custody, struggles, and the good people live mostly happily ever after.

(source) (story by heymomo7)

#prorevenge #by heymomo7 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

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