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karrenseely · 6 months

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A Letter to my bio mother.

A few years ago my mother wrote me out of the blue, after having not spoken to me for 20 years. She ignored me when I finally managed to graduate college despite all she'd done to me, she (and the rest of the family) ignored me at my father's funeral, she ignored me when I graduated from medical school. That first year after she and dad disowned me I wrote to them about once a month. I never got a response. That Christmas I stopped by our house and dropped off Christmas presents for everyone (Mom, Dad, Sister). Mom wouldn't even look at me and retreated into the house. Dad basically told me to go away, I didn't belong there anymore. It hurt, a lot. Then a few weeks went by, and I got a box in the mail, I was excited because the return address was my old home, I thought maybe, they've finally accepted me and come to their senses. I opened the box and was immediately crushed, they had sent back all the gifts I'd worked so hard to find for them, unopened, still in there wrapping paper. So needless to say, I was very surprised to see she had messaged me on FB, and that old hope resurfaced once again. I opened the message and was crushed... once again. She had sent me a message to yell at me. This is the letter I would have liked to send back. Instead, I blocked her because it hurt so much, even now I second guess that decision because a part of me still wishes she could have loved the daughter she had.

The message I am responding to: "I just saw your go fund me page. Our hope in "cutting you off" was to leave enough time and space for you to grow up and really think about the huge step you were wanting to take. It didn't help that YOU told us it was our fault and then demanded that we pay all your medical expenses to have the surgery. You are as much to blame for the family separation as your Dad and I are. I will accept my part of that blame. I knew when we did it that we might never see you again but it was a risk both of us were willing to take because we were hoping you would not choose to take such a difficult path through life. It was a gamble and we lost, but so did you. You have a wonderful, intelligent, funny, sweet, smart family members you have never even met. Erin's kids, Paul and Kayla. Your loss, believe me. They are great great kids and that is not a comment just from their grandmother. We hear it all the time from other adults that get to know them. When you left I lost my only son, then I lost him again when you had the operation. Not having children you can not begin to comprehend the depth of that pain. Losing a parent doesn't even come close. God gave me a second chance to have a son in my stepson, Karl, and now that has been snatched away from me as well because he committed suicide in April. Do not underestimate the amount of pain and loss your family has gone through because of your choices. Your Dad, Mother, Grandma Seely, Grandpa Seely, and all your aunts and uncles grieved for you and the person we all knew and loved named [Deadname]. Fortunately, your Grandfathers never knew what you were doing as it would have destroyed both of them. Life changes ALWAYS leave huge ripples in the pond. I wish you well in your chosen life but don't place all the blame on the family YOU chose to leave behind."

Dear Mom,

I do not understand you. I am your daughter. I have always been your daughter. On some level I'm sure you've always known this. I'm sure as a toddler I said I was a girl. I remember doing lots of things that were not typical for a little boy, but certainly were for a little girl. So I'm sure you knew, though you denied it. You denied me.

I will always be grateful to you for letting me play dolls and barbie with my sister, for letting me get a doll instead of a transformer, for teaching me how to cross stitch, knit, and encouraging me to read. For teaching me how to do household chores and how to cook. For making sure I took my medicine and staying up with me at night when my asthma was bad, for sending me to camp Not-A-Wheeze, for not letting me die on those horrid nights when I couldn't breathe. For saving my ankle and my ability to walk. For going to bat for me when that teacher really didn't like me because I had such a hard time acting like a boy.

But this is also why you hurt me so deeply. Because I mistook you loving the son you thought you had, that you wanted, for loving me. I was hurting so much. By the time I came to you, I was desperate. I was already self harming, though you never knew. I had already gone through the process of accepting I was trans, not that I liked it, but it was the only way I knew of to find any relief from the torment of not being allowed to be me. I was dying. I was already fighting the shame I'd been taught. I'd already learned it was bad to be a girl, and that it was doubly bad to be girl that everyone insisted was a boy. I had desperately tried to hide it, I was terrified of being friends with girls, because I thought if I was, someone would learn my horrible shameful secret. I had been dealing with these feelings for years before I came out to you. And I knew, if I didn't get help, I wasn't going to survive. So I came to you. But you denied my feelings and called it a phase... except this phase had lasted for years, when I look back, it lasted as long as I could remember, though I didn't understand that at the time.

I was so lost and confused, my parents didn't believe me. I didn't know what to do, so I tried to last a little bit longer. I think I came out to you again. This time you denied I was your daughter again. Things were bad, really really bad. By that time, puberty had already started and was destroying what little comfort I could find in my body, worse, to my horror, my voice started to drop. I knew there was treatment to stop this from happening, and I so desperately needed it. But everytime I asked for help I was denied. Worse, anytime I couldn't hide the fact that I was your daughter you yelled at me, shamed me, made me believe I was freak, a pervert, a monster. I felt so helpless, so hopeless, and so very very alone. I broke. I know I stopped growing mentally at that point. I dissociated so much, that what memories I have are fragmented, and I got stuck at age 15/16 for years. I couldn't cope with the world anymore. Somewhere in there you sent me to a counselor. I didn't know you were hoping he would erase me. And he hurt me, he hurt me so much. I thank the gods and the universe that you didn't force me to continue seeing him, and instead sent me to the only female psychologist in that office... but it was in that office, it was impossible to fully trust her, I never was able to talk about how I was really feeling, because I never felt safe in that office.

I stopped feeling safe at home too, after I came out to you. My parents who were supposed to love, accept, and support me, instead turned on me. Demanded I explain why I existed, why I knew I was a girl. Adult's can't even explain this, and you demanded this of me, a child. And no matter what explanation I managed to draw up, it was never enough for you. Instead you twisted it, and used it to dismantle any self worth I had, any sense of safety I had with you. For some reason, looking back I have no idea why, I trusted you right up to the day you disowned me. I thought I deserved everything you did to me. I thought that if you didn't love me, then no one could. I never even tried talking to my only two real friends I had after you disowned, as I was convinced they would hate me too if I came out to them. Thankfully, I was wrong about that.

Sometime later, I began to learn that what you did to me was wrong, I began to understand it was abuse, but it didn't really sink in, until I was at a queer youth retreat and one of the sessions was about the power and control wheel. It was then that I really saw what you had done to me, that what you were doing to me was abuse. You gaslit me from the day I was born, and everytime I tried to tell you otherwise, you told me I was crazy, I was shameful, I was broken, I sick, I was wrong, I was sin incarnate. You did everything you could to try to control and erase me short of outright murder. Worse, you actually told me you wanted me dead. What kind of mother tells her daughter she wants her daughter dead?

At some point, my maternal grandmother got a hold of me. I think it was a letter via snail mail. I learned that she still wanted to have a relationship with me. She didn't understand, and she constantly misgendered me and dead-named me, but she at least talked to me and welcomed me into her home. Then a few years later after she moved into assisted living for awhile, she disappeared. There was no forwarding address, I had no way to contact her, you stole her away from me. By that time she didn't have the cognitive faculty to get a hold of me on her own. I never saw her again. You took away the only living relative that still wanted a relationship with me... Then years later, you dangled her contact information in front of me, like I had done something wrong by not talking to her all that time. And you told me she was dying. But by that time I had already grieved for her, I couldn't go through that heart break again, and she was so far into her dementia that she wouldn't remember me anyway... why reopen those old wounds. Today I understand that was my CPTSD (from you, my peers, and society's abuse) telling me to avoid anything that would hurt.

Then, seven years ago... gods has it been seven years? It still hurts so much. Seven years ago, you apparently found out about my project to try and create a halfway house for homeless LGBT+ kids. You decided to write me the last message I ever got from you. You blamed me for what you did. That somehow it was my fault that you disowned me. You know, that day that you cut me out of your life, out of our entire family, you showed me your love was conditional. I remember you telling me that you'd take me back if I only would continue to pretend to be a boy for you, but you would be monitoring me to make sure I wasn't letting the real me out. You shattered the love and trust I had in you.

Even if I figured out somehow that I was wrong and I was a boy, how could I go back to you? To parents who never really loved me enough to let me figure everything out, to parents whose love was so conditional. And yet you say you did it for me. That is a lie. You did it for yourselves in a last ditch effort to try and continue to control me to be your imaginary son. You didn't do this to help me understand "what a huge step [I} was wanting to take." I was already well aware, I had spent years figuring that shit out even before the first time I came to you looking for help. I knew what I was in for, I'd had flashes of it for years in the abuse I suffered from my peers when they saw the girl I was trying to hide. I knew it from all the research I had done, from the fellow trans people I knew online by that time.

I didn't choose to be disowned. You chose to not love me, accept me, or support me. You chose to disown me. I didn't have any say in the matter. And yes, how you chose to respond to my distress, my suffering IS your fault. Shaming me for being your daughter when you wanted your imaginary son. Shaming me for being a girl, for teaching me that I was something that needed to be hidden, something horrible, something icky, for forbidding me from talking to my sister about it, the only other person I had ever considered talking to about it after coming out to you, why? The only conclusion I could reach at that age is that I was so sick, so horrible, I would somehow corrupt her too. So I obeyed you and no, I never told her. She learned some of it on her own, but because I wasn't allowed to talk to her about it, she considered me a pervert. I never discussed any of it with her... not until after you disowned me.

So yes it is your fault. I WAS A CHILD! Worse, I was your child! Of Course I thought you would help me! It's why I came to you in the first place, it's why I kept coming to you. Because I WAS YOUR CHILD! I was your daughter and I was suffering so much. The only two paths I could see, that I could ever see was death or finally getting to be me, in a body that didn't constantly hurt me so much. But you denied me all of that. You denied me. You chose to do all of that to me. For what? For an imaginary son that never existed? You broke me. Of Course I blame you for that. I blame you for all the emotional abuse, neglect, and medical neglect you did to me. You were my mother, you were supposed to love ME, not some imaginary person you wanted instead, but ME. It is beyond twisted to me that you think I am as much to blame for what you chose to do to me. I didn't have a say in the matter. I had two options: live and be myself (while apparently losing everyone I ever loved) or dying. I chose to live. I refused to die for you. You haven't accepted any blame at all. You never did. All you do is try to gaslight me into believing that my being your daughter is somehow my fault. I didn't get the choice. You decided to create me. You decided to give birth to me. You decided to accept the responsibility of raising me. And then when I refused to be what you wanted... you threw me away like garbage. The only reason you never saw me again is because you never accepted that you had a daughter instead of a son. You never loved me. You wanted me dead and told me so yourself. With everything I went through growing up, it's a miracle I survived. To this day, I don't know how I did. Not with how much you tried to destroy me. You gambled with my life, hoping I would choose to continue to pretend to be your son, that I would continue to endure the constant torture of not being me. I would not have survived that. I barely survived at all.

Thank you for reminding me how much you took away from me. You took away my parents, my sister, my extended family. You took away everyone I ever loved. Thank you for reminding me that I have never been allowed to meet my niece and nephew, who by now are adults living their own lives. I pray to this day that neither of them were LGBT+, given the family they grew up in... it would have been a nightmare for them. I still grieve that they never tried to get in touch with me, that my sister never allowed me to be part of their lives.

You said when you disowned me you "lost [your] only son." But that's the whole problem. You never had a son. And you refuse to see this. To this day, you deny my existence, and blame me for it. And you assume I don't have kids. I have 3 wonderful kids who are becoming adults as we speak, or are approaching adulthood far to rapidly for my liking. They are amazing. And unlike my niece, nephew, and step brother, you chose to never have them be a part of your life. I am so proud of them. So please don't presume to know how I would understand the pain if I were to lose them. And please don't presume to think that the pain of losing a child is the same as losing everyone you ever loved, of knowing your parents hate you, of knowing your mom wanted you dead. The pain of knowing this when I was still just a child. These are two entirely different traumas. Please don't equate them. And please don't presume that it wasn't you who chose to throw your child away like she was garbage.

When father died, you ignored me, you tried to keep me away from his funeral. If my sister hadn't called me, I would never have known. And then at the funeral you never acknowledged my presence, no one from our family did. Instead you had your church lackeys try to push me out the door while I sat in that chair weeping, grieving. Did you know, that it was then that I finally understood you were not ever going to love me, accept me, or ever be a positive part of my life.

My grandfathers never knew the real me, because you made me believe telling them would kill them. I remember I tried reaching out to one of my uncles once, but it was such a hard conversation, and it only felt like they wanted to get off the phone. They never called me back or tried to reach out to me. No one except my maternal grandmother ever reached out to me in any positive way. So please don't tell me they all grieved for me, they chose to never talk to me again. They chose to cut me out of their lives as much as you did. I have very little sympathy for them, given when you disowned me I was homeless. I couch surfed throughout that summer. I really needed their help, since you refused to help me. Had it not been for some amazing friends letting me stay with them, and helping me get back on my feet, I would have ended up on the streets, like so many homeless LGBT+ kids. They chose to do that to me, just as you did. So no, I won't cry any tears for them choosing to throw me away too.

You mentioned that I had a step brother, whom I was never able to meet. You seemed to think you could replace me with him. I feel so bad for him, that you would put that burden on him. And then before I even knew I had a step-brother, he took his own life. I wonder every day if it was because he was LGBT+ and the abuse he suffered killed him. I wonder all the time if you abused him like you abused me. I wonder, what if he had been able to talk to me, get support from me, if he'd still be here. It hurts to know he died by suicide, because I wonder if it was for the same reason I almost died. I will always wonder...

You wrote this letter hoping to hurt me I think. You succeeded. You hurt me again. I had managed to live my life, find a family for myself. A family that actually loves me for me. Whom I can share all the joys and sorrows of life with. Whom got to see the joy I experienced when I finally got to be myself. When I didn't have to hide anymore. Who got to see me graduate college, who got to see me go to medical school, who saw me graduate and flourish. With three wonderful children that I helped to raise, and 6 others that are like nieces and nephews to me. But out of the blue, you wrote to me, to try to hurt me again. For what? Because I wanted to help other LGBT+ kids who went through what I went through? How petty is that? And yet despite everything I had accomplished, everyone I loved currently. You still managed to find me and hurt me again.

The day I got that message from you, was the day I was finally able to make a choice about our relationship. I'd never been able to before. It was the day blocked you from contacting me on FB ever again. Please don't try to contact me again. You made your choice, and it is apparent to me that you will never acknowledge what you did to me. How much you hurt me. How 27 years later I'm still in therapy over what you did to me. I've long since lost hope that you'll ever tell me you love ME and that you're sorry.

Sincerely, your daughter, always,

Karren

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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Midas, you still alive, buddy?

-🥘Stew

hello yes hi look at me i’m the ghost of writer’s block past present-

👋 i’m alive. i just have literally nothing to post—

in all honesty i have written like….. no words this week save for yesterday, which i don’t even know how that happened but it carried me through half of an ok concept so that’ll be up today or tomorrow provided i remember it exists.

i’m not just abandoning this blog. i just… have about as much juice as [what has no juice?] a.. building where juice is banned..? uh-

[‘bout as much juice as liquor store? since it’s all alcohol? …maybe?]

critically low juice. don’t know why. typically i write down my daydreams and that’s what i post, but i guess i just haven’t been doing that..? i- i don’t know what’s wrong, in honesty; i have a good handful of unfinished concepts but my mind is a toddler who refuses to eat broccoli. that + nobody sent in an ask bc the blog is yk slow as hell (which i’m not blaming anybody for except myself) = no posts of any variety

i’m not dead. i just have no ideas. sorry if i worried ya

#m1d : [chats]#stew🥘 anon #kicking my brain kicking my brain kicking my brain #i went from posting every other day to posting twice in two weeks what’s wrong w you #yes i feel bad i haven’t posted but in honesty i’m not anybody important by any metric so like if i stopped nobody would notice #but a majority of this is the fact that i just /like/ writing. it’s a hOBBY and i can’t? fucking do it #angry emoji.

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athenswrites · 7 months

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Knight of Dawn: Intermission 1 [Not Your Typical Fairytale]

The toddler sat on the floor, methodically organizing her blocks into a colorful maze. She carefully crafted each gap, each turn, each room, before continuing to add more blocks. The whirring of the big machines and the people bustling around the room were comforting to her, as she sat in her corner.

Then, Mama squatted next to her, petting her hair gently. Jackie looked up with a smile, as Mama looked at the maze of blocks. “Whatcha making, Jackie?”

“Home.” Jackie pointed to the maze, watching Mama trace the hallways and rooms with her eyes. She pointed to one of the large, central rooms, then another smaller room a little further away, “We are here. It’s morning time, so Papa is working here right now.”

Mama smiled proudly, laughing a little, “That’s….that’s right Jackie. You did this by memory?”

The toddler nodded furiously, “Papa walked me around. I remembered it.”

Another woman came over, a scowl on her face. Mama stood, talking to the woman, while Jackie cowered behind Mama’s leg. The woman scared her, glaring at her with disgust.

“Her memory is beyond what I could ever have imagined at this point. And her vocabulary and syntax is far beyond what she should be able to do. The genetic modifications, it’s incredible.” Jackie didn’t understand some of what Mama was saying, as she reached down, scruffing up Jackie’s hair gently.

The other woman didn’t seem too pleased, staring back with a cold glare. “You shouldn’t be doing this to a child. My son knows better.”

Mama laughed at her, “Hinata, you can’t say that you never dreamed of doing something impossible.”

The other woman scoffed, turning away from Jackie and Mama and heading back towards her work, “I just don’t want to see him become like you.”

Rolling her eyes, Mama squatted in front of Jackie again, looking her in the eyes, with that smile upon her face.

NYTF WIP PAGE

Tag List (reply or dm to be added or removed; I pulled from the old tag list + the call post): @author-a-holmes, @soul-write @flowerprose @ceph-the-ghost-writer @theglitchywriterboi @when-wax-wings-melt @thechaoticflowergarden @lyralit @penspiration-writing @samatedeansbroccoli @charlesjosephwrites @italiangothicwriteblr @thetruearchmagos @pineapple-lover-boy @unilightwrites @sanguine-arena @bardic-tales @joshuaorrizonte @blind-the-winds @circa-specturgia @hymnonlips @aloeverawrites @the-stray-storyteller @writeblrsupport @starlit-skys @kyuponstories @guessillcallitart @magic-is-something-we-create @talesofsorrowandofruin @writingonmymind @imslowlydisintegrating @worldsfromhoney

#writeblr #writing #excerpt #chapter #wip #athenswrites #nytf #jacqueline bergeron #x47jab2

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amiscreations · 2 years

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Closer Company ~ Def Leppard

Notes: My second ever fic! and my first ever attempt at writing from the readers perspective, so apologies if its a little rough or cringeworthy! This story was SO sweet tho, and such a blast to write aww🥰 it was inspired by the beginning of an episode of Green Wing, one of my favourite shows!

Summary: what do you do when the house is freezing, with no hope of heating for the best part of the day? Wait it out while cosying up with the Leppards of course!

Warnings: a few small references to alcohol, but otherwise just total fluff!

Setting: the pre-Hysteria house, Dublin, 1984 (but honestly you could pick any era)

Word Count: 3293

Dedicated to: @i-dont-want-your-hysteria @thiswatch-lepparddef-werehi @de-luxeviolets for inspiring me to write! Your stories are always amazing, and never fail to brighten my day🥰

*****

As you felt the morning sun cascade onto your face, you found that the atmosphere of the room did not reciprocate the bright hues from outside the curtains. Your usually cosy bedroom had an icy chill to it, as if the windows had been left wide open in midwinter.

You bundled yourself up in your duvet, not quite ready to face the cold in just a vest and shorts. In the time it had taken you to register the drastic change in temperature, the sky had become dark and miserable, blocking out the fleeting sunbeams that had originally woken you. Typical Irish weather of course, especially in early spring. Still, the indoor heating usually meant that any bad weather was left outside.

The heating! You vaguely remembered that last night Sav had tried to turn it off, most likely as an attempt to stop himself boiling to death in his own room. Living with five musicians however, none were particularly apt in home maintenance, and Sav was no exception.

Reluctantly, you slipped out of your bed, wrapping your duvet around you as you did so, and ambled down the stairs. The house was gloomy and, of course, freezing. None of the boys were up yet, and as the chill of the air nipped at your bare feet, you envied them more and more.

The kitchen floor was like ice, and you tiptoed over to the cupboard where the boiler was located, making as little contact with the floor as was humanly possible. As you did so, heavy rain started to patter on the roof.

Great, just what I need to lighten the mood, you thought.

Accompanied only by the downfall outside, you opened the cupboard, and immediately clocked the cause of the cold. While you didn’t know much about boilers, you did know that three sets of rapidly flashing red lights probably meant that something was up. In other words, the heating was broken.

Before you could think of anything else, you were already calling Joe’s name. Perhaps he could help?

“Joseph!” you called again, adding a little more desperation to your voice, shifting from foot to foot on the icy floor. No answer.

You groaned, and climbed up the stairs once again, still wrapped up in your duvet. As you ascended, the rain became louder and louder, and you realised, despite the circumstances, it was strangely soothing. You opened Joe’s door to find him still asleep on his front, half draped in his own duvet, obviously not aware of the cold yet. He was also hugging a half finished bottle of red wine. He looked so peaceful, so unaware, that you almost didn't want to wake him. But as the cold seeped further into your duvet, you couldn't take being alone in this house for a second longer.

“Joe, Joe wake up,” you shook him. He grumbled in annoyance, but remained unconscious.

“Please Joe, I'm freezing!” you flopped down onto the bed behind him. Perhaps the jumping-on-the-bed-like-a-toddler approach would be more effective. You continued to shake him.

“What?” he sleepily groaned. A sudden cheeky smile cut across his face. “Are you back for more action?” he joked.

“In your dreams,” you said flatly, elbowing him in the ribs. “Wake up, the boilers’ broken, and I need you to fix it.”

“Good morning to you too,” he rubbed his face with one hand, keeping the other firmly on the wine bottle.

You buried yourself under his duvet, still clad in your own. “Can’t you feel how cold it is?”

“Nope, I have my jacket,” his voice was muffled through the layers of blanket.

“What?” you burrowed back out of the covers to look at him, just as he took a swig of wine. Oh, you thought to yourself.

“I'm still feeling the first half of this bottle,” he hiccuped. “So I dont think I'll be any good at fixing anything. Get Phil to do it.”

“Oh please just look at it,” you were getting a little frustrated. “Besides, remember when Phil and Steve tried to make ‘The worlds’ biggest pedalboard’? We had no electricity for two days.”

“Alright alright,” he rolled out of bed. You were amazed at how he was not freezing to death wearing only a pair of union jack shorts, even with his wine-blanket. “Bloody English weather,” he looked out the window at the grey clouds which were pouring rain. You noticed that the sky was even darker than when you’d woken up, and would not be surprised if a thunderstorm was on the way. “C’mon then,” he ambled downstairs, with you at his heels.

***

“Yep, yep ok, thanks, bye!” you hung up the receiver and sighed. Both you and Joe were now tightly wrapped up together in your duvet, leaning on the kitchen counter. After taking one look at the boiler, and cursing Sav in the process, Joe decided that this particular problem could not be solved by simply fiddling about and hoping for the best, and five minutes later, you were on the phone to the heating company. Joe had put some water on to boil for cups of tea.

“Well?” Joe asked, not moving his head from your shoulder.

“They can get a man round to fix it this evening,” you sighed. “‘Til then looks like we're stuck in the cold.”

The two of you stood huddled together in the duvet, waiting for the water to boil for your respective hot beverages.

“This blanket smells of you,” Joe suddenly observed.

“What do you mean? Is that such a bad thing?” You were suddenly a little self conscious.

“I mean your perfume, your shampoo, that sort of stuff. I couldn't help but notice.” he tilted his head a little and smelt your hair. “You just have a… distinct sweet smell is all.”

“Get off! Get your own blanket!” you giggled and shrugged him off, to little avail as said blanket was keeping you pressed together.

“No, we have to huddle together for warmth. It's what all the polar explorers do,” he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, enclosing you both in the duvet more, closing off the gaps where the cold was creeping in.

You couldn't help but feel more relaxed, what with Joe being like a human radiator next to you. The crashing of the rain outside, and the cold in the air provided a stark contrast to your cosy little standing nest. With more than enough heat returning to your body, and with Joe as a mutual support beam, you almost felt like you could fall asleep there.

“If you were a real man you’d be on a stepladder stripping down that damn boiler and locating the problem,” a familiar London accent broke the calmness. Phil appeared at the bottom of the stairs wearing a chunky grey jumper and slippers in the shape of bear paws. Despite this, he was wearing the same union jack shorts as Joe.

“The problem with that boiler is still upstairs sleeping,” Joe, motioned in the general direction of Sav’s room and opened the duvet for Phil to join the huddle, which he did without hesitation. There was more than enough room to spare, and Joe was now sandwiched between you and Phil. “The bastard must have pressed every button on it, in the right order for it to say ‘i've had enough of this’ and off itself before he blew the place up.”

“Probably be warmer if he had done that, at least there would be a fire,” Phil smirked.

While the three of you had been distracted, the water on the stove had finally begun to boil. The gas seemed to be unaffected by the whole boiler issue, a fact you were most grateful for. It turns out there was just enough water for three cups of tea. You didn’t want to spend any more time outside of the blanket than necessary, so walking to and opening the fridge was out of the question. Instead, you each put an extra cube of sugar in to make up for the lack of milk. Not that that was very high on your list of priorities, really the goal was just to have a warm beverage regardless.

Eventually you settled on the sofa, cosying up to each other under the blanket just like before, clutching your cups of tea. On the TV there were reruns of The Young Ones, which provided a welcome distraction from the cold and rain.

While you were focused on warming up, a sleepy Rick appeared at the bottom of the stairs. There seemed to be a trend today of the boys wearing the Union Jack shorts. He went over to the toaster and began to toast some bread. Joe shuffled around to look over the back of the sofa, and stared at him with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He remarked at the barely clothed drummer.

“Hmm?” He answered innocently, as he got a jar of jam out of the cupboard.

Joe hurriedly gestured to the mess of blankets on the sofa. “The boilers broke, we’re getting frostbite here?”

“Oh yeah, I did think it was a little chillier than usual,” he pointed out. “I thought it was just the rain. Still, because I’m not a wimp like you lot I’ve learned to survive in the cold. After drumming for an hour I’ll have a good enough body heat going to heat this house myself!”

He spread butter and jam on his toast, before exiting without another word. After a few minutes, sure enough, you could hear his drum kit ringing out from a few rooms over.

“Perhaps we should move about a bit to keep warm?” Phil suggested, picturing Rick at his drum kit. This idea was almost immediately shut down by a chorus of “no!”, while you and Joe pulled the blanket tighter. “Well, sorry I asked,” Phil smirked.

You finished the episode of the Young Ones, but we’re disappointed to see that there was nothing interesting on after that. You sat in silence for a while, until your minds quickly became restless. None of you wanted to be the first to suggest abandoning the blanket nest.

“We need to put on some music or something,” you finally suggested.

“But the music is out there,” Joe nodded in the general direction of the record player with wide eyes. He proceeded to sink further into the sofa. “It’s not safe, you know that if I get too cold I’ll lose my voice,” he pouted.

“Rick’s right, you are a wimp,” you rolled your eyes. Despite your teasing of Joe, however, you too remained on the sofa.

“Shout Steve, get him to put it on for us,” Phil suggested.

“‘Shout Steve’? He's not a dog, Phil,” Joe chuckled at the idea.

Without any hesitation, Phil was shouting “CLARK!” at the top of his lungs, which made both you and Joe jump. There was no answer.

Phil thought for a second and shouted through a mischievous grin: “ok, i guess i'll just start tuning the Les Paul you left down here last night, i've had a few ideas!”

Before Phil had finished speaking, quick footsteps were heard from upstairs. “Works every time,” Phil said with a proud smile. Seconds later, an exasperated Steve came hurtling down the stairs, and hurried over to the guitar in question, which was on its stand in the corner. Steve was wearing a tight tshirt and yet another pair of union jack shorts.

Once he saw that the guitar was, in fact, untouched, he turned to the mess of blankets, people and discarded mugs on the sofa. “What's all this about?”

“Could you put some music on pleeeease?” Phil teased.

“You're saying you got me down here just so I could put some music on?” Steve was slightly out of breath. “|The record player is ten bloody feet away! Not to mention you almost gave me a heart attack, you know I'm the only one who can tune that guitar.” Steve had his hands on his hips.

“Steve, I do also know how to tune guitars. What's so special about that one?”

“For the hundred and fiftieth bloody time, the headstock is fragile!”

While you felt a little sorry for Steve, you couldn't help giggling at his frustration. Joe and Phil were smiling too.

“What?” Steve shrugged. “It's true! You're just too heavy handed!”

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, Steve began to rub the tops of his arms. “Bit cold isn't it?”

“Yeah, we noticed,” you glanced down to the blankets covering the three of you on the sofa.

Steve looked puzzled, “didn't the heating-”

“Savage broke it, apparently,” Phil rolled his eyes. “Look if you're not going to put any music on I suggest you join the huddle, I'm getting cold just looking at you.”

“Yes mum,” Steve stuck his tongue out at his terror twin. He grabbed the guitar and climbed into the blanket next to you. While the guitar wasn't plugged into an amp, Steve seemed to be able to effortlessly tune it regardless. You watched him as he carefully adjusted the strings between playing small riffs.

And then there were four. The rain was pelting down harder than ever, and although it was still morning, the dark clouds that hung low in the sky turning the outside gloomy. Despite this, the colder the atmosphere grew, the more content you felt, especially when wrapped up with the three Leppards. The steady pattering of the rain, the cosiness of the blanket fort, and Steve's strangely rhythmic playing of the now tuned guitar was enough to lull you into a light stupor.

***

You weren't sure how long you were asleep for, in fact you didn't remember intentionally going to sleep at all, but when you came to, you found yourself with your head on Joe's shoulder. Slightly embarrassed, you shifted position, but as you went to sit up, you realised that Joe's arm was draped around you. After coming to your senses a little bit, you saw that it was the football on the TV, and Joe cheering at it, that woke you up.

“He is a genius, a bloody genius I tell ya!” Joe pointed at one of the players on the tv.

“hmmph No football-talk before twelve pm, remember Joe? It melts my brain,” you grumbled, pulling the blanket over your face.

“Lightweight,” Joe teased. “Anyway, it is after twelve now, you and Steve fell asleep, Rick is actually doing work, and Sav is cowering in his bedroom. What else were we supposed to do?”

You glanced over at the clock, which did, indeed, read half-past twelve. As well as this, you came to realise that Steve was using your own shoulder as a pillow, and was still fast asleep. The guitar was on the sofa next to him.

You smiled at how peaceful he looked, although that was soon interrupted by a certain drummer. Rick entered looking like he’d just run a marathon, still wearing his drumming gloves. “Is anyone gonna make some lunch? I'm starving here!”

“Only if you make it, for all of us,” Phil kept his eyes firmly glued to the tv.

“Look, just because I don't feel the cold, it doesn't mean I'm gonna be your slave for the day,” Rick dried his hair and face with a towel. “I might just join you lot if it's all the same.”

And without another word he flopped onto the sofa, across all of your laps, sparking protests from all.

“OW!-”

“Rick for god's sake-”

“Your elbow went in my-”

“Bloody hell what did you do that for?”

While Rick was in the process of being hit with pillows left right and centre, this drew attention away from the fact that Sav had snuck down to see what the fuss was about. He cleared his throat, causing everyone to jump.

“Oh, when did you get here?” Joe glared at the bassist. He was wearing a pair of grey joggers, and a green turtleneck jumper, the collar of which was pulled over his nose, leaving his eyes barely visible under his masses of frizzy hair. Despite him being the most aptly dressed for the climate within the house, you could tell that he was also feeling the cold, as his hands were buried in the pockets of his trousers, and his shoulders were hunched up to his ears.

“Look now I know what you're thinking,” he looked at the floor. “But you have to understand I could not take another bloody minute in that room. I've tried everything, you know I have, but I just… can't sleep. And then you all get mad when I'm tired on the occasion we actually want to get something done.”

“I keep telling you, mate, just sleep on the sofa or something,” Joe offered. “It would save you from bringing on the next Ice Age for starters.”

“Joe, my only fifteen square foot of personal space on this entire planet is in that room, I'm not gonna just give that up. Mind you, even then I'll sometimes find one of you in there flat out drunk or something, which by the way, is the only way any human being would ever have a chance of sleeping decently in there.”

“Oh Rick, you just don't get it, do you?” Phil sighed. Sav shot him a confused look, before he elaborated. “Everyone knows that the concept of personal space becomes null and void when you join a band, let alone a touring band. Look, Joe says there's a man, a proper man, coming over this evening to fix the heating. You can ask him about the problem in your room too, I'm sure. In the meantime I suggest you join us and wait out the cold. Rick make some room will you?”

The drummer reluctantly rolled off the sofa, and walked into the kitchen, while you and Joe made room for Sav to sit in between you. He fought a smile while you cosied up to him. After all, Phil was right. As soon as you’d joined the Leppard crew, personal space as you knew it vanished, so you made the most of the alternative, and the close company it brought. Of course it got annoying at times, but you wouldn't trade it for the world, and you knew for certain that none of the guys would, either.

The football was still playing on the tv through all this. While you didn't understand a thing that was happening, and apparently, neither did Steve, who was still perfectly content leaning on your shoulder, Joe, Sav and Phil were automatically captivated. It was fun listening to them exchange feedback, or random words of encouragement to the players, as if they could hear them through the screen. It was like another language.

Just as the five of you had settled down, Rick returned from the kitchen carrying a large plate piled with jam sandwiches. He placed it on the coffee table, and went back into the kitchen, and quickly returned with a stack of plastic cups and a jug of orange juice, placing those next to the sandwiches. Without a word, he sat down next to Steve, moving the guitar. At first, he didn't notice the five pairs of wide eyes that were trained on him.

“What?” he finally challenged. “...Ok so maybe I felt a little sorry for you all. if we’re camping here for the day then we’re gonna do it properly. But you've gotta learn how to survive in the wilderness, y’know?” he took a sandwich from the plate. The others just laughed and did the same, settling in for yet another lazy day in front of the TV. Though you looked forward to having heating again, as well as sun to brighten the mood, you knew that days like these did not come often, and you made sure to make the most of spending precious time doing nothing with your five favourite people.

#can you tell I know nOThing about football/soccer lol?#I had so much fun with this honestly🥰#I didn't even draft or plan it I just sorta went with it #def leppard #Joe Elliott #Rick Savage #rick allen #Phil Collen #Steve Clark

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mywifeleftme · 11 months

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84: Yonatan Gat & Gal Lazer // Physical Copy

Physical Copy Yonatan Gat & Gal Lazer 2015, Joyful Noise (Bandcamp)

I have been pretty thoroughly on something each time I’ve seen Yonatan Gat, the Tel Aviv-born guitar matador who has become a cult figure due to his smoldering small combo stage shows. Gat and his typical trio or quartet like to set up in the middle of the venue, upending the usual artist-on-stage, plebes-on-the-floor dichotomy. Multiple times I’ve seen audience members helping hold up a cymbal stand that won’t stay upright, or gaping at Gat’s fretboard from over the guitarist’s shoulder, privileged to be the second head of a virtuoso. Gat’s music is loud, loose, and incantatory, predominantly instrumental punk/psych/passport rock rave-ups, occasionally interrupted by Gat’s drowsily romantic vocal interludes.

The first few times I saw him I was just starting to experiment with MDMA and acid, and I would spend the sets torn between my desire to lose myself in the music, and to write every liquid thought sloshing in my head. As a result, I “watched” a lot of the show through my phone’s notes app, standing next to the band trying to write as improvisationally as they played. I’ve just opened up one of those documents for the first time in years, from a Toronto gig accompanied by the dream trio of Gal Lazer on drums (AKA Gladys Lazer), Sergio Sayeg on bass (AKA Sessa), and Thor Harris on percussion and vibes. What follows are some excerpts from ten pages of very stoned responses, lightly edited for embarrassment.

youtube

The drummer’s so close it feels as though I could ghost through his back, talk to his array of golden plates easily as I tell my own hand to close round the throat of a flower, the handle of a watering can.

Check the bassist too, in his immaculate linen suit. When I saw him a year ago he wore the exact same outfit. It’s hard to imagine him ever taking it off— the white cloth just turns translucent as he soaps himself in the shower, becomes opaque again in the tumble-dry that fluffs his hair. White, on that note, seems to have the fashion diktat for the tour, undoubtedly conceived of by the singer under the influence of whatever sun rises in his brain that incinerates embarrassment, and a modicum of choice hash.

I’m one to talk: I’m so high my right buttock is trembling to the music of its own accord.

(If I were as gorgeous as the balding Shireborn playing vibes, I wouldn’t care about the black leather fanny pack marring my aesthetic either.)

The guitarist holds the neck upright, the way you do when a tough part in Guitar Hero hits, but for him, it’s like when you want to talk to someone with your mouth to their ear, while the foot traffic splits unnoticed around you.

Most times this part of the show is just jerking off— do you remember Richie Sambora? He was in Bon Jovi and played like Joe Perry sealed under a film of cellophane, like mushrooms priced to move. That guy jerks off; this deserves the longer word in Latin. There’s a drum solo too and people clap, and for the first time ever, not merely because it’s over. My carrier informs me my new plan has begun, with a whole new block of data to bore through. The singer does his sexy thing in a language made foreign by layers of mystic reverb. He introduces the players in long bars of well-meant fuzz.

"Shireborn" Thor Harris: Perhaps more dwarfkin?

And so on! Anyway, at the show I’d sworn up and down not to buy any merch (was broke!), but as the rolling waves of instant nostalgia about the like ephemerality of experience continued to smash me in the face like a toddler trying to wade into the ocean, I became fixed on the title of this little Steve Albini-produced single: Physical Copy. An answered prayer, something designed to last! Jump-cut to 2023 and I can’t find the fucking thing for this review, so I’m streaming it and still remember everything fine without the tactile reminder. It’s good, but don’t shop on drugs and be careful what you write is I guess the message of this post, oi vey.

84/365

Encore

if my ears are not ringing am I hearing at all? tinnitus is the air thick with angels.

I part their unseen ranks like a curtain of plankton, eardrums resounding to their pitchy carols.

I don’t know if it’s true this tingling is the last time I'll ever hear this sound; if it is, let’s say the tone was burnt up reentering the world from the silence of memory.

#vinyl record #music review #yonatan gat #tel aviv #gal lazer #gladys lazer #joyful noise #instrumental music #guitar solo #this is so stupid #mdma #'10s music

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purplesurveys · 1 year

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1689

What was the last upsetting thing that happened to you? The fucking toddler who shrieked for four hours straight on my flight to Malaysia. I think a part of me died that day.

What was the last thing you ordered from Starbucks? I can’t remember the last time I went to Starbucks, actually! I 100% got either an iced Americano or caramel macchiato, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you which pastry I got...I like to switch it up often.

Do you trust your doctor? I don’t have a doctor I regularly go to. I don’t really go to the doctor at all, unless it’s huge emergency or if I need to get a checkup for work.

Do you ever question if your mother loves you? I know she does but she tends to be tactless, something which, to her credit, she has acknowledged. It doesn’t necessarily make me question her love for me per se, but it’s this tactlessness that frustrates me and makes us clash a lot because I’m not exactly the type to stay quiet when I feel disrespected.

Do you ever feel scared or unsafe around your dad? Not at all. When he’s around I feel like literally nothing can go wrong.

Do you have a pastor you can trust and talk to whenever you need to? I am not religious and I feel like pastors/priests would be the first people to have viewpoints different from mine anyway.

Do you have a best friend who always has your back? Yes.

What is missing in your life? Spontaneity. My recent travels made me realize that. I thought I was already living a relatively comfortable and free life here in Manila, then I went to Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur and realized the things I could be doing...can you believe the biggest thing that upset me was how pretty the park in KL is? I went there for three days straight, even let myself cry it out on the final day. The trees were so pretty, the water was so clean, I love how they had drinking fountains everywhere, and it was so cool to see benches everywhere. Everyone not in the Philippines, you guys are so lucky to have parks.

What color shirt are you wearing? It’s a white tube top.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? It was an admin from one of the communities I’m in touch with for work.

Who is your least favorite doctor you’ve been to? I feel bad for saying this but it has to be the doctor that my family has been extremely close with ever since I can remember. He prescribed some useless medication for my UTI – aka the UTI that gave me the fever from hell – which didn’t do jack shit and my 39ºC fever raged on for a few more days. Eventually Angela’s mom swooped in and gave me a prescription, and upon getting the damn medicine I was fine within, like, an hour.

Who is your least favorite nurse? Idk I never really get to be around nurses.

What is your favorite type of Lunchables? I’ve never tried those.

What gives you migraines? Working for too long with my screen brightness set to max.

What is the worst medication side effect you’ve ever had? I’ve never had terrible side effects from a medication, but injections are a different story. For all the times I got my Covid vaccines/boosters the side effects were consistently shit, I had always gotten a fever, and my skin felt like glass.

When was the last time you remember your life being good? A week ago when I was in Bangkok. It was a rare, precious pause in life where the biggest thing I had to worry about was not losing my passport. Easily one of my favorite memories already and I will always be grateful for the experience.

What makes you forgetful? I am oftentimes forgetful at work but it’s because I typically handle anywhere between 30-40 tasks on my to-do list every single day.

Do you block stupid, ignorant people on Facebook? Sometimes. My usual instinct is to report them to get the job done more easily.

What is your favorite magazine to read? I haven’t read a magazine in years.

What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? We don’t have a lot of Taco Bells here, so in the extremely rare occasion that I find myself in one I just get some burrito.

What was the first color you dyed your hair? Ash brown. I wanted to go crazy immediately and do green, but I was told that the first time has to be on the milder side so that my hair doesn’t, like, die from the bleaching. Anyway, I’ve gone with purple twice since then and have never gotten back to the green that I originally wanted for my hair hahaha.

Do you trust your parents completely? No. I know my mom still snoops around in my bag, but then again my trust in her died out a LONG time ago, lol.

Do you have someone you feel completely safe around? Yes, my closest friends.

What church do you go to? I just attend my local parish that you don’t need to know about, but if you meant denomination then I am Roman Catholic, at least in the legal sense.

Have you made a lot of mistakes? Haven’t we all...?

Do you take risks often? Every now and then, but I wouldn’t say it’s a way of life. I play it safe when I want to.

Who was the last person you called on the phone? Angela and Hans when I wanted to meet back up during the Yoongi concert.

What color is your favorite whiteboard marker? I don’t have a favorite whiteboard marker.

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ooops-i-arted · 2 years

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Do you have any child development thoughts on the latest episode of the Book of Boba Fett? How do you rate Luke's teaching style?

@aspiringwarriorlibrarian said: I was waiting for your take on this because the instant I saw this I was like ‘has nobody in this show ever interacted with a baby’ and I like having the science back me up on it. WHY ARE YOU GIVING SHARP OBJECTS TO A LITERAL TODDLER LUKE? WHY?

LOOOOOL I was mentally drafting a child development post while watching the episode, I wondered if anyone would ask me anything! Let me see if I can organize my thoughts.

Tl;dr answer: No, it doesn't get my stamp of approval, but in a "I believe Luke would actually be a good teacher, he's just hindered by bad writing and How Teaching Is Typically Portrayed In The Media."

First off, no, I bet none of the showrunners have had to like, actually truly teach. Idk their family status but they run a high-demand job, they probably aren't primary caregivers to young children. I don't mean this to drag them at all, to be clear, just to say it's a different perspective when you're in a position to be in charge of kids like that for an extended time every day. So Luke's teaching is written by an outsider writing what they think a teacher would be doing (and what we do isn't always particularly glamorous/photogenic/good for storytelling) so it's really just like... highlights of what they think Jedi training might be like. (Also, most of it was CLEARLY supposed to be Callbacks To Other Things, not a thought-out lesson plan or anything.)

If you're new here, I teach preschool. I actually teach for a program meant to help lower-income students, so what I really do all day isn't usually letters and numbers and pointing at a chalkboard or whatever teachers do in media. My main focus is social-emotional skills, because that's what young children need. They can learn academics later, but not if they haven't learned how to sit at a carpet and listen to someone and respect their peers. This is where you get the "well they just play all day" thing, because they are, but children that age learn through play. You see a child stacking blocks, I see motor control, hand-eye coordination, etc and if they're with a friend learning sharing, teamwork, so on. Those are what I'm focused on, not the traditional academics you think of in elementary school on. The most important thing for Grogu right now isn't dodging laser blasts or handling a lightsaber, it's self-control. More so because he has the power to harm people if he doesn't have that skill.

Luke seems to be missing the mark with teaching Grogu emotional control. Grogu tries to eat a frog during meditation, so okay, he's hungry and distracted. Instead of getting Grogu a snack or taking a break, Luke lifts up all the frogs to show off?? What was the point? (It seemed ooc for Luke to torment the frogs anyway. Why didn't he say "We're here to feel the living Force. If you're hungry, let's get some food back at camp instead" and serve him rations or something.) Luke helps Grogu remember an Easter egg Order 66 flashback, but there's no reason why. Was Grogu still struggling with trauma? Then why didn't Luke talk him through it, help him face the memory before actually doing the trip down memory lane? Was Luke curious to know more about the original Jedi Order? In that case, why was he having Grogu remember instead of talking to him (which we know they can do) or asking Ahsoka instead? It's just "I'll teach you to protect yourself" but no in-depth acknowledgment of Grogu's fears, or Luke empathizing with him or connecting with him by maybe talking about his own fears, or reassuring Grogu that he is safe here and that won't happen again (sequels aside). A huge part of teaching is connecting with your students; a student that trusts you is going to learn much better from you when they know you genuinely care about them and have their best interests at heart. I wish we had seen more of Luke empathizing and connecting with Grogu. A conversation about their fathers would've been great, and more meaningful than just watching Grogu do Stereotypical Jedi Training Things.

Of course that's not to say other aspects are important. I've talked before about how Grogu needs motor development! An obstacle course is great fun and will promote those gross motor skills. The baby being stung with a laser? 100% inappropriate!! Grogu is a fresh recruit, and he's little! He needs positive reinforcement, not pain. Save the Easter egg laser ball for when he's older and training with a lightsaber. (But the real problem is in the writing. The ball is there to be an Easter egg, no other reason.) Also, Luke doesn't even explain the activity! He doesn't say "You're going to dodge these blasts to practice your reflexes" he just lets Grogu get zinged! If I started a dodgeball game by just throwing a ball directly in a child's face I'd get written up!

(That said we now know the real reason Din couldn't see Grogu, because he'd blast that thing in a heartbeat and then stage parent his way through Grogu's training. God, he'd be the woooooorst lmfao. He'd definitely be one of those well-meaning-but-misguided parents who tries to over-direct every action of their child's in the name of helping them learn, when the real way they learn is doing it themselves.)

On the other hand, I maintain what I said in my other post: how much worse do you think Grogu would feel knowing Din stopped by and didn't see him than if he did see Din and was conflicted? He didn't hear that conversation. He just knows Dad came by and left without seeing him. It had to break his heart. And Luke just goes straight into a jumping lesson. This needs to be talked about. Kids don't always have the language to express their feelings and need that guidance to experience and manage them. And missing a parent is perfectly normal! Of course Grogu misses Dad and is having a hard time adjusting! This should be a time to pause and talk about his feelings, acknowledge them, and Luke reminding him "It's okay to miss your dad. You're here to learn about the Jedi and it's important. Let's take a break and when you're feeling better, we can do some training again." This also would've been a great time for Luke and Grogu to bond over Feelings About Their Dads. (Again, it's Filoni's bad writing about the Jedi + attachments that's rearing its ugly head. There's no reason to assume Jedi kids were just yoinked without any sort of transition. TCW's episode about Cad Bane and the Jedi kids strongly implies parents were prepared and there was a transition period.)

I've seen a lot of upset over the choice at the end and I agree it's dumb af. Like I said in my other post, it's just not appropriate; Grogu has barely been trained (twice) but he's also chosen the life of a Jedi (twice; we don't know the circumstances the first time but the choice to be a Jedi is shown in canon, parents can choose whether their kids go, and even Ahsoka's TCW scene with Plo Koon shows her willingly taking his hand, implying that she freely chose to join the Jedi, as much as she could make that choice at a young age - which also can be handwaved in canon with The Force Told Them This Was Their Path). We've just seen Grogu do some Generic Easter Egg Filled Jedi Training with Luke while Luke himself is still adapting to the role of teacher; it's really too early for Grogu to make a true choice. It just seems OOC for Luke to force this choice anyway? Luke of all people knows the strength of healthy attachments so why is he forcing the no attachments narrative now? Bare minimum why didn't Luke empathize with Grogu by saying "It was a hard decision to leave my sister and friends, but I believe it's important to be here, training you. I understand you have conflicted feelings, and I want to help you find your path." This should've been a scene of the two connecting and communicating, not Luke forcing a sudden choice (when we already saw Grogu make this choice in the season 2 finale!!). I've seen speculation that Luke was just testing Grogu to see his true feelings and go from there, but I'm still just like. He's a little kid. This is new and big and A Lot. They should be talking about it. But I guess that doesn't make an exciting cliffhanger.

Anyway I guess what I'm trying to ramble out is we should've had training scenes about actual, meaningful connection between student and teacher instead of Easter Eggs. Because Luke is a kind and caring person who saves people with his healthy love and attachment (after Anakin destroyed people with his unhealthy, possessive love and attachment). So he of all people should be able to understand and guide Grogu through this huge transition, and a character development opportunity was missed in favor of the cameo and Easter egg parade.

Edit to add OF COURSE A DEADLY WEAPON LIKE A LIGHTSABER IS COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE FOR GROGU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING LUKE. It was so obvious I forgot to actually say it lmao.

#I have Feelings but I hope I expressed myself clearly #asks #baby yoda #grogu #baby yoda meta #was that my tag #bobf spoilers #tbobf spoilers #replies #anon #aspiringwarriolibrarian

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bigfan-fanfic · 3 years

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Spooky Season Special: Until Dawn (Male!Reader x Chris)

Prologue: Bystander

-One Year Ago-

Let's just say, you had been shocked when Beth Washington winked at you and slipped a sparkly envelope into your hand. Hannah had gotten overzealous with the glitter glue again, and it was a wild mess that had held your invitation to Blackwood Pines for the annual winter getaway party weekend hosted by the Washington siblings.

Mike and Emily had grinned when you told them, which was gratifying. To tell the truth, you had never felt like anything more than a satellite to the group. They all seemed so tight with each other, and all you really knew were Mike and Em. Mike because he'd been your best friend since you were toddlers, and Em since she was Mike's girlfriend and you both shared multiple advanced courses. Even despite him being athletic and your typical big man on campus, Mike had been at your side for years, even when your interests diverged. You even helped make posters for his class president campaign in your spare time, which he joked made you responsible for his victory.

But still, you never really considered yourself part of that group until Beth handed you the invitation. You had only really hung out with the group on occasion, but you knew what it was really about.

Damn Mike. He had told Beth about your crush on Chris. He or Emily had. And now they were going to play matchmaker. You weren't about to let that happen, but you figured this was your ticket to making more friends and hanging out with Mike more. ...And Chris.

And really, partying with the Washingtons was fun. Who gets to go up to a HUGE lodge in the mountains only accessible by cable car? Even the vaguely sinister sensation of being trapped couldn't undo your feeling that you were now part of an exclusive gang. You ended up on the cable car with Ashley and Sam, who immediately drew you into a conversation (Sam protested playfully when Ashley turned the conversation to a book she was reading about ghosts) and the fun began.

There was the requisite teasing of Sam as she went upstairs to take a luxurious bath in the Washingtons' simply enormous tub in the master bathroom ("Try not to use all the hot water this time, Sam!" from Beth and a "Hardy-har" from Sam as a retort.)

It started out simple enough. Hannah and Matt brought down some board games from a closet and you all began playing. At one point someone suggested Jenga and everyone held their breath as you watched the tower wobble...

Don't Move. .. . .. . .. . .. .... .. ..... ... .. .... .. .. .. .... .. . . . .

...and you finally breathed again when it was certain the tower wouldn't collapse. And then, of course, Josh and Chris arrived on Emily's turn, and she promptly knocked over the wooden blocks. She complained a little, but clearly was happy the group was all together.

Chris and Josh promptly forced open the liquor cabinet and led a toast to old friends, and lifted a glass to you and added "and to new friends!" Beth, ever-responsible, gave a disapproving look at her older brother and passed around cream sodas instead. But really, only you, Sam, and Beth chose to remain sober. Chris and Josh started a drinking game by singing the Pokerap from the Pokemon anime and drinking whenever they got the words wrong, and quickly started devolving into drunken messes. Mike and Emily started making out, and Sam was catching up with Ashley and Matt - Jessica was talking to Hannah.

Beth invited you up to her room to watch Pride and Prejudice on the new TV she had gotten in there, but really, it was just a pretext. You knew it the moment the movie started playing and Beth looked over at you. "So... Chris, huh?"

Secretive - "What about him?" Exasperated - "Ugh, Mike told you?"

Beth grinned apologetically. "Emily, actually. But don't worry, I won't blab. I think it's cute. And hey, I'm here for you."

You smiled a little. It might actually be good to have more friends you can talk to about this. When you told Mike you liked boys, and that you liked Chis, he had teased you about having a hunk of prime beef in front of you - himself - and you chose the nerd anyway. Beth, at least, seemed less likely to ridicule you.

"It doesn't matter, though." you had groaned. "He's got a crush on Ashley."

"So?" Beth asked. "Josh once had a crush on Britney Spears at the same time he discovered Leo DiCaprio. People can have multiple crushes. And I'm pretty sure Chris doesn't just like you because you can beat him at Street Fighter."

"Fine, you may have a point. But I'm not gonna make any moves tonight! Looks like Chris is on a one-way trip to Hangover City."

She smiled wryly. "Ugh. Guess I have to make hangover cures in the morning. If you and Sam are the only other sober ones, wanna help? We can make vegan pancakes just the three of us!"

You grinned. "That actually sounds really fun."

"Great!"

You watched the rest of the movie, and finally decided it was time to check on the others, realizing you hadn't heard much during your little party.

"Guys?" Beth called, a little confused when no one answered. The two of you wandered down, only to find Chris and Josh, slumped over the kitchen island, a few empty bottles of liquor between them. Beth gave a chuckle that became a sigh. You remember this part so much more clearly.

Beth looked out the window, and frowned. "There's someone out there! I thought Mom and Dad said it would be just us this weekend."

"Maybe it's the trees? They're pretty creepy at night." you suggested, not wanting the creepy idea of someone else being on the mountain to take root.

She looked away, unsure, then glanced at the bottles.

"Ugh... Once again, big brother, you've outdone us all." Beth said, her eyes roving over the bottle-covered table. She picked up a piece of paper and read it, wincing. "This is - what has my naïve sister gotten herself into now?"

You take the paper, only really having time to read the words "Hannah" and "Mike xoxo" before someone went running by, sobbing. Beth went charging after them...

Wake Chris Follow Beth

...but you quickly tried shoving Chris to wake him up. But even with you yelling in his ear, he was dead to the world. You ran out after Beth, only to run right into Matt's back.

"You know, Mike, I think you're the last person she wants to see right now." Sam was saying.

"What the hell is going on?" you asked, looking from face to face. Emily disgusted, Sam worried, Mike and Jessica looking uneasy... "Where's Beth? And Hannah?"

"Hannah overreacted to this prank we pulled," Ashley frowned. "And Beth ran after her."

"What do you think, Y/N? Should we go looking for them?" Mike wondered.

Concerned - "Beth said someone else was out there..." Responsible - "We should get help..."

"They say you really shouldn't split up in a snowstorm. Beth's smart. I'm sure she'll bring Hannah back. But just in case, let's call the ranger station?" you said. You remember the group all nodding, more at ease now that there was a plan. Emily went to call, while Mike and Matt tried to wake up Chris and Josh, and you tried to get what happened out of Jessica and Ashley, because Sam refused to talk to any of them.

A horrible prank... and two deaths. For a whole year, the idea that maybe, if you had made some other choice, you could have prevented it, consumed you. Maybe if you had chased after Hannah more quickly you could've stopped her, or maybe at least convinced Beth not to run and to call the ranger station instead... maybe at least one of the twins would still be alive.

Things only got worse after the trip. You thought it might bring you more friends, but the group fractured down the middle. Eventually Em and Mike broke up, making it really awkward to choose between them. Sam had distanced herself from the others, angry at them for the prank, and you hadn't heard from her for months. And Chris... you two had gotten a little closer, but really this tragedy had struck all of you and changed everything.

You hadn't known Josh that well, so it was surprising that he asked you to come back up to the lodge. And although it might be weird, definitely uncomfortable... you find yourself on a bus, headed right back up to Mount Washington.

With no idea of what the night will hold...

#until dawn #until dawn x reader #chris hartley x reader #chris hartley x male reader #until dawn fic

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sunflowerstache · 4 years

Text

Did You Order a Pizza?

Halloween 2020 is filled with lots of surprises for the Styles family

A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope you had. great Halloween and you're feeling alright these days! This is a one shot following the family from my pic Another World, which you can find here! I hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to hear all your thoughts!! I love y'all!

Word Count: 7.6k

~~~

“And you’re sure he’s back?”

“You heard him on the phone. He’ll be waiting for Jeff so you’ve got plenty of time while he waits for the man to not show up.” Glenne smiled at you from her spot in the driver’s seat. “Although, I think he’ll like who does show up instead.”

Harry had left for Los Angeles so that he could begin filming a new Olivia Wilde film, leaving you and Bella in London. And as much as you’d have loved to join him on such a monumental step in his career from the start, you were unable to travel with him. Not only were you unable because your daughter was still in school at the time, but because of the pandemic that was still going on throughout the world. It prevented for most of the year’s plans to take place, which absolutely crushed Harry. He was looking forward to Love on Tour and showing his fans how much fun this new era was for him, more than you’d seen from him in a long time, but he would always put the safety of his fans before entertainment, so it was an easy choice to postpone. However, no tour meant that he could gladly accept a leading role in a film alongside some of the most well known actors in the industry.

But it only took you a few days after his departure to find out you couldn’t be so far from him. As fate would have it, Bella’s class was turning into online learning once the half term break ended, which meant one of the most important reasons you were still in London had vanished. So, after spending two weeks quarantining and making sure you took all the necessary precautions, both you and Bella got tested and flew to the states with your negative results. From the start, you had told Jeff of your plan and he and Glenne gladly welcomed you into their home once you arrived, wanting to spend time with Bella for a few days after going so long not seeing the toddler. And finally, once you got the negative results of yet another test, you and your daughter were off to stay with Harry.

Jeff had spoken with your boyfriend over FaceTime earlier that morning, feeding Harry some story about needing to solidify some merch designs, and making sure that Harry would be patiently waiting for his manager after he finished filming for the day. But the plan was to have Glenn drive Jeff’s car so he suspected nothing seeing it pull up, and surprise him when it was you and Bella getting out the car instead of the oldest Azoff son.

“I can’t wait.” you groaned out through the grin taking over your face. You bounced in your seat slightly, pressing both hands to your cheeks just thinking about seeing his shocked face when he opened the door expecting Jeff, but seeing you and Bella instead.

“What?” The question was brought up after a soft chuckle was heard from Glenne’s side of the car as soon as you were halted at a stoplight.

“Nothing. It’s just cute how excited you are to see him after being apart for what, a month?”

“27 days.” you whispered, urging yourself to force down a smile. “But who’s counting?”

“You guys have been together nearly a decade, and you still get all flustered when you talk about him.”

The way you and Harry acted around one another was something that was always commented on by people in your inner circle, for that exact reason. Without a doubt, your relationship had gone through some of the toughest times, but that was bound to happen when you’ve been with someone since you were sixteen… and even more likely when every moment of your life was documented to the public. But those tough times never seemed to last, because at the end of the day, Harry was everything you ever wanted and vise versa. He was what you daydreamed about in a partner while growing up. And being with him was like being with the sun. He made you feel loved and cared for, you had more fun with him than anyone else on the planet, and every single day with him felt like a new adventure. As a kid, you’d thought the way people described the love of their life was corny, nothing but a thing of fairy tales, yet that feeling that bloomed inside your chest and tummy every time you thought about Harry told you that it was very real.

“Dunno.” you shrugged, “He’s my person. Even seven and half years later, he still makes me feel like he did on our first date.”

“That what’s got you looking extra glowy or is that just another secret to staying in the honeymoon phase forever?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you replied quickly, finding it hard to keep the giddy feeling that was now bubbling in your lower stomach under control when you turned your head to meet her gaze. She was squinting at you with suspicious eyes, her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek, which forced a laugh to fall from you. “What? I don’t! Just miss him, that’s all. Isn’t that right baby? We just missed daddy loads, huh?” making sure to quickly take the attention away from yourself, you turned as much as you could in your seat to look at Bella in the back.

“Yes! I miss daddy so much!” her little legs kicked against the carseat and her arms lifted high above her head, a huge smile plastered on her face. “I have so many drawings and stickers to show him and Mr. Jeff got new socks!”

“I know, we got them all tucked away nice and safe so you can show him. Do you remember what the plan is when we get there?” you asked her, your breath getting caught in your throat for a moment when the sun shined just right through the rear window. It was a perfect day in LA, sunny and warm and just as the car pulled onto the street you knew was where Harry was staying, the sunlight danced across Bella’s perfect complexion. She was a spitting image of her father, down to the freckles dotting her face, the deep set dimples that never seemed to disappear, and the curls constantly falling in front of her face no matter how hard you tried to keep them tamed. Every now and again you caught a glimpse, sometimes through the kitchen window while she was playing in the backyard and other times while her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept on your chest, of just how breathtaking Bella is. What angelic beauty the love between you and Harry had managed to create.

“Yeah mumma!” she smiled, giving you two thumbs up, very clearly excited about getting to see her dad again. “You ‘member my costume, right mumma?”

“Of course I did. Put it in the bag right next to mine.”

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m really ‘cited about it.”

“I know baby. It’s a good one, isn’t it?” you knew Harry would get a kick out of what Bella decided to be for Halloween. She had come to you months ago, actually sat you down in the kitchen and explained what she wanted to do like she was in a little business meeting. And of course as soon as she told you, you had to laugh because it was perfect.

“Yeah.”

Her whisper was the last thing said within the confines of the car before the three of you pulled up in front of a beautiful white house nestled deep in the Hollywood Hills. It was much smaller than the house the pair of you had just sold just blocks away, but everything about it was so much homier. A brick walkway sandwiched between a line of shrubbery and a white stone wall led up to the house, which itself was an odd shape. The very front of the house came up to an asymmetrical point instead of a typical flat roof, and the rest of the house was pushed back slightly, so that none of the face was level, and the house almost seemed cut in half horizontally from the distinct line between white stone bottom and black paneling on the upper level of the home. Finally, a brick downhill driveway, made of the same brick as the walkway, led to an all black garage that sat just below the rest of the home. The small details is what made the building give off such a cozy vibe; a vibrant green front door, plant boxes hanging off a few of the upper windows, a black wooden archway and lanterns surrounding the front door, a few potted plants on the side of the walkway, and the faint golden hues peaking through the closed blinds.

“Cute, huh?” Glenne laughed, putting the car in park and turning fully in her seat to look at you.

“Yeah, it actually really is. Reminds me a bit of our old place.”

“Place in London, right? That’s what I told Jeff.” she said at the same time, looking behind her at Bella while you got out of the car. “You ready to go, tulip?”

“Yes please!”

Her hands were already fumbling with the seat belt by the time you opened her door, the excitement itching at her in preparation for what was to come, but she graciously waited for you to sort her out.

“Thank you mumma.” she muttered casually once you had her unbuckled and lifted into your arms.

“You’re welcome, baby.” the way Bella was the most polite little girl you had ever known never failed to make your heart soar. You and Harry were so proud of the person she was becoming, whether she was that way because she saw how everyone in her life acted or because she was born with the kindest little soul, it didn’t matter. She always made sure the people around her were happy and having fun, constantly reminding people how much she loves them, and trying her hardest to make everyone laugh. It was yet another way she reminded you of Harry; they both could instantly light up a room without even trying. “Just gotta ring the bell, right? Say your line?”

“You got it, mumma!” she smiled brightly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

Nearly the instant you put her down, she darted up the brick steps, taking a full pause at each step to be her funny self and jump, with both feet together, up to the next one. As she made her way towards the front door, you took your place leaning against the passenger door of Glenne’s car, nearly doubling over in laughter watching Bella look hysterical lifting up on her very tiptoes in order to reach the unusually high doorbell.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited for Harry to open the front door. For a minute, you were sure that he had ignored Jeff’s instructions to stay home, but to your relief, the green door finally opened, revealing a very comfortable looking Harry. He was very obviously post shower, his hair visibly wet and sparkling when the porch lights lit up his form, clad in a pair of black basketball shorts and one of his grey Treat People With Kindness hoodies, and nothing else but a tall pair of Nike socks. It was like a scene from a movie, because when he didn’t immediately see Jeff in front of him, Harry looked over towards the driveway quickly like he was being pranked. But within a second, his attention was brought down to Bella, who tugged on the hem of his shorts, her sweet voice barely audible from the distance.

“Did you get a pizza?”

It was comical to watch him just stare at her like she had three heads. You couldn’t blame him, last he knew, both you and Bella were five thousand miles away, so it made sense that his brain was not comprehending the scene in front of him.

“He’s so confused.” Glenne giggled behind you, but her voice seemed like it was muted with how fully your focus was on your boyfriend.

“Hmm.”

Not even a second after your hum of agreement, and as if it was in slow motion, you watched as realization glossed over his features, his green eyes widening and mouth hanging open, and he sank to his knees. It didn’t take him even a second to pull Bella into his chest, winding his arms completely around her tiny frame and cradling her head in his surprisingly ring free hands.

Seeing the two of them together was like looking at two halves of the same soul reconnect. The moment they were in one another’s arms, it was like everything got brighter. Their smiles widened, chuckles more audible - even from such a far distance, and the warmth that typically lived in your chest recently, burned even warmer. You always knew Harry was meant to be a dad, just from how much he talked about it. You knew that he would do his very best to go above and beyond for his child, to make sure they felt loved and secure and treasured. But hearing about it and seeing it are completely different. Seeing nothing but total adoration on his face whenever he looked at your daughter made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Mumma!” Bella’s shouted, snapping you out of the daze you had slipped into while watching the moment before you. Both Harry and Bella were now looking at you from the doorway, her head resting on her father’s shoulder as he held her in one arm, their faces totally engulfed with smiles. “C’mere Mumma!”

“Yeah mumma.” Harry finally spoke up, his voice carrying down the pathway right to where you were standing.”C’mere.” Just seeing him standing there, smiling so brightly and holding his free arm out telling you he was waiting for a hug, was enough to make you break out in a smile and push off the car, dashing up the steps.

His chest was firm when you crashed into it, much firmer than when you hugged him goodbye in the airport a few weeks ago, and you felt as if you head placement on his chest was different - like he’d grown since you last saw him. Or maybe he hadn’t changed at all but your mind was finally coming out of a month long fog that it slipped in without him, getting readjusted to being in his arms.

“Hi sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, peppering kisses all along your hairline and temple like he physically couldn’t leave an inch of the side of your face untouched.

“Hi baby.”

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, pure wonder in his tone as he nudged the side of your face with his chin, making you lift your head from his chest and look at him. “I just talked to you this morning, said you were going to see your parents before everything got locked down again.”

“Yeah, well. I lied.” you smiled, leaning in to press kiss after kiss to his lips, trying your best to control the insane happiness rushing through your veins. Your response seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t ask another question wondering why you were in LA. Which was good for you because your plan wasn’t to explain everything on the front porch.

The three of you stayed frozen in that same position, Harry’s arm so tight around you that your face was completely buried in his hoodie, and the other arm holding Bella, forming a makeshift group hug, not bothering to worry about anyone seeing you or anything going on past the wooden archway. Because nothing else mattered. Not when you were with the two people who made your world spin.

“Daddy.” Bella’s timid voice finally broke you apart, both you and Harry leaning back a bit so that you could put your full attention on the little girl in his arms.

“Yes lovie?”

“I lied too.”

“What did you lie about?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder in order to look at him with a very concerned expression, like she felt deeply sorry for whatever she was about to say to him. “I don’t have a pizza. ‘M sorry. Mumma told me it was funny.”

“Oh did she now?” Harry mocked in offence, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Mhm. But it wasn’t, ‘cause we don’t have any.”

“That’s right. But sometimes it’s okay to say something silly like that and not feel bad as long as it’s not something to hurt anyone, right? And daddy isn’t mad. How about you mumma?” Harry looked to you, trying not to smile at how adorable Bella was about the little fib. You shook your head.

“Not at all.”

“And what about you, B.B? Are you sad you told daddy there was pizza?”

She contemplated it for a bit, scrunching her nose up - again, just like her father - and looking around like the answer would be hanging in the air somewhere. “Yeah.” she said matter of factly. “But ‘cause I want pizza. And we don’t have any.”

Both you and Harry couldn’t help the laughs that fell from your lips, wasting no time before leaning forward to press a kiss to Bella’s forehead. “How about we get some then?” he asked against her skin, glancing at you when saying his next bit. “We’ll get your bags from the car and order one?”

“Oh god!” you yelled, turning around to face the car from which you’d just ran from. “Completely forgot Glenne was sitting in there! She’s probably been texting Jeff about how annoying we are.”

“Annoyingly adorable, yeah.”

“Think she’d fight you on that one. Nearly made her sick on the drive here with how excited I was to see you.” your laugh was muffled as Harry wrapped his arm back around your neck, dragging you in a headlock down the first step towards the car. Bella, knowing that it was time to bring in the bags, wiggled out of Harry’s grasp and sprinted down the steps ahead of you, right into the arms of a now out and about Glenne.

“Everything’s alright?” Harry’s voice was laced with concern now that your little one was out of ear shot. You both tried your hardest to never have any sort of talk about negative things around her, whether that be an argument or things going on in life, because she should never have to be put through the stress of that. Most of the time you just waited until she was asleep to talk about those things, but sometimes it meant going into different rooms and closing the doors.

“Hmm?”

“Everything’s alright, right? You didn’t come all the way out here because something’s wrong, did you?” quickly forgotten was your position in a headlock, and instead, Harry kept his arm around your neck, your body fitting perfectly tucked into his side. You walked step by step to meet your friend and daughter, who already started pulling suitcases out of the boot.

You took a peek up to him, noticing he was already glancing down at you, his eyes roaming all over your face to look for any sign of distress that he may have missed when he first saw you. But you had none to offer him. “Yeah baby, everything’s okay. Just needed to be with you.”

“Swear? You’d tell me if there was something?”

“Of course I would. Always.”

“Alright, professor. But if I find out you were hiding something, I’ll have to write a diss track.”

“Oh will you now?”

“Mhm. Thems the rules.”

Glenne spent a bit of time with the three of you before heading off, telling you to enjoy your time together and even throwing in a little joke about maybe even making a new baby since she missed how little Bella used to be. The comment made your ears warm and a weird feeling flutter through your stomach, but she gave you no time to respond before she shuffled out the door.

Since arriving at Harry’s, Bella practically refused to leave his arms, wanting to be as close to him as possible until she really realized that no one was going anywhere for quite a bit. And her thoughts must have quieted enough because not even twenty minutes after Glenne walked out the front door, Bella was running through the house towards one of the extra rooms she’d be sleeping in.

“Mumma! Come help me! We gotta show daddy!” her already soft voice was even soft as she yelled from the second floor, her request forcing you to get up from the sofa.

“What are we showing me?”

“She’s really proud of her Halloween costume this year. Spent weeks planning it out, you know?”

“I know. She wouldn’t budge anytime I asked her. Very secretive that one.”

“Hmm, wonder where she gets that from?” you sang while walking up the stairs, letting out a snort when you saw him lift a middle finger to you from his position still on the sofa, not even bothering to turn around to look at you as you continued towards your daughter.

“Alright baby, I’m here! Where do you want me?” you clapped, entering Bella’s room in a way that mimicked that of Harry Lambert, something that you knew she’d recognize right away from the amount of times she’s seen her parents being helped by the stylist.

“Over here, mumma. Gotta help me button!” she had already rid herself of the clothes she’d been wearing on the drive to Harry’s, the green long sleeve shirt and jeans laid in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed while she stood in just her knickers, searching through the small suitcase on her bed for all the pieces to her costume.

You took a seat on the floor next to where she was standing, watching her every move as she finally found everything she was looking for. Her tongue stuck out while she took the fabric between her fingers and gently held it in her hands - taking a moment to look at it in awe - before turning and holding it out to you, expectantly.

“Gotta be careful with it, mumma.”

“Oh I know. They’re really delicate, aren’t they?”

“Mhm. Reedy told me to be gentle with ‘em ‘cause they were made with extra love so they’re extra soft.”

“Oh that’s perfect! They’ll be on for quite a while so it’s good that it’s all comfortable.”

“Yep.”

You look notice of how long her hair had grown while zipping up the back of her shirt, the curls continuously falling against your fingers despite being held over her shoulder by Bella. You knew well enough even before she was born that she was going to have gorgeous hair, all it took was one look at the locks cascading from her father to tell you that, but it seemed to grow even more mesmerizing by the day. It fell loose past her shoulders every day, always managing to fall in front of her eyes while she was sprawled out on the floor playing. Even though you did enjoy how cute she looked pushing the crazy curls out of her face while her little tongue stuck out, you knew it was time for a trim soon.

“Are you wanting a haircut soon?” you asked while zipping her pants as well.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I like it long.”

“How about we see if we can get rid of some of these dry bits at least?”

Bella thought about it for a bit, picking at her nails while mulling over the idea of going back to the salon. “Yeah, I think that’s fine.”

“Alright, we’ll see about making an appointment when we get back home. Gives you some time to think it over.”

“Okay! Y’almost done mumma? ‘M excited.” she bounced in place, trying her best not to move so that you could finish getting her ready as fast as possible.

“All set!” you checked, reaching up to grab her hair out of her grasp and let it fall down her back. “Just put the jacket on and you’re all set to show daddy.”

“He’s gonna be so happy I know it!” she squealed, carefully picking up and putting on the final part to her costume and turning to look in the floor length mirror. Bella didn’t say anything for a minute, taking the time to examine herself in the mirror. She smoothed the fabric covering her torso, lifted her feet in order to see the little pair of boots, and had one of the largest smiles you’d ever seen on her. “I look so good!”

“You do, lovie! Award winning I’d say.”

“Thank you for helping! Lets go!!” she yelled, darting towards the door and only stopping at the top of the stairs when you called for her, reminding her to be careful by the steps. The two of you quickly discussed your plan before departing ways, leaving Bella a bouncing mess just above you as you walked down to the light switch at the bottom of the steps.

Flicking all the lights off, you cleared your throat and waited for Harry, who had gotten up off the sofa upon hearing your descending footsteps and was now leaning against the back of the furniture, his bum resting just on top of the back, to give you his full attention. Although the lights were off, it was still early enough in the evening that light showed through the windows, allowing you to see his face and make sure Bella got down the stairs safely.

“You all know him as 2013’s Teen Choice Male Hottie -”

“Also 2016.” Harry cut in, trying and failing to stifle his chuckle

“Also 2016’s” you added, “and lead roles in Award Winning pictures such as This Is Us and iCarly.” at this point, it was obvious what was happening and you could tell Harry was fully on board with what was about to walk down the stairs. But he was also so excited. He no longer was leaning against the sofa, but now standing upright and his hands were pressed together in a praying position in front of his mouth. “Introducing, the incredibly talented, musically gifted, style icon of the decade, Mr. Harry Edward Styles!”

The second you saw that Bella made it safely to the ground next to you, you flicked on the dim lights that just illuminated the staircase, showering your daughter in the closest thing you could get to a spotlight. She was standing in Harry’s signature position; bent forward slightly with one hand held in a peace sign while the other dangled loosely by her side and mouth open wide. Harris Reed had taken the time to make Bella a nearly exact replica of the white and black floral suit Harry had worn to the 2015 AMA’s - the suit that really started it all when it came to Styles’ fashion. Her curls were hanging past her shoulders just like Harry’s were at the time, and for good measure, she even lifted her hand to push some out of her face exactly like he used to.

She was a spitting image of Harry. And he loved it.

“Oh my god! You’re kidding! You look fantastic! Gonna put me out of a job! I won’t even need to go on stage anymore. This is amazing!” he screeched, rushing forwards and couching down in front of his daughter. He took in every last detail of the outfit; how the under shirt had buttons but did not open from the front (something Harris thought would be easier for Bella to get in and out of), how the floral detail was exactly the same as the one he had hanging in his closet back home (Reed had asked Alessandro for the fabric), and how even the shoes were a near replica.

“Mhm. I can sing next time. I’ll go up and sing to your friends and you can sit and watch and talk to Mitchy.” she nodded, taking a step back and belting out ‘You’re so Golden!’ “See? Like that!”

Harry beamed. “Absolutely! Give me a nice break every now and again, very thoughtful. We’ll just have to change your bedtime and it’s all set!”

“You like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she moved right in front of Harry, her hands grasping the hood of his hoodie and she looked directly into his eyes.

“I love it - and you - more than there are stars in the sky!” Harry responded without hesitation, grabbing her and lifting her into his arms, swinging Bella around quickly enough to let a few giggles. “Thank you very much, beautiful, it makes me very happy.”

“Can’t believe you wanted to be your smelly old dad.” he joked when she pushed against his chest to look at him, “See me everyday, why’d you wanna dress up like me too?

“‘Cause you dress the best, daddy!”

“Ohhhh hear that, love?” he turned to look directly at you, Bella now hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment on saying her dad dressed better than her mum. “I’m the best dressed.” Harry stuck his tongue out at you.

The reaction from Harry was everything Bella was expecting and more. So much so that she could no longer fight the exhaustion of the hectic day any longer. She barely made it five minutes in Harry’s arms before finally passing out. In the coming December, she’d be turning five and you were trying to start and wean her off of taking long naps, but after such an energetic day you welcomed the time for her to rest. She put up a fight getting out of Harry’s arms, the arm she had shoved into Harry’s hood in order to thread her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, tightened each time he tried to pull her away to lay her in bed. Like even in her unconscious state she wanted to know that seeing Harry again wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

It was heavenly to be back with Harry. Even though you had only been apart for such a short amount of time, there was so much to catch up on, and you would never get tired of hearing about everything going on in his life.

“And they used this stuff called Dermacol, and I swear, she swiped over it once and the anchor was gone. Bloody insane seeing it all bare. Hasn’t been that year in years.” Harry laughed, finishing his story of how his first few days on set had gone, the two of you laying in his bed while you waited for the pizza you ordered while he put Bella down for a nap.

“Don’t wash it off tomorrow. I want to see.” you tilted your head back so that it was resting on Harry’s shoulder, in order to look at him. He was sitting behind you, his back pressed against the headboard while you were nestled between his legs, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him again. “Forget what you look like without any ink.”

“Like them though, right?”

“Of course I do. Think they’re very hot.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit, just let his fingers dance up and down your arms, clearly lost in thought. “I wish you could come to set. See everything and everyone.” he finally spoke.

“I know. I just don’t want to chance anything you know? We just traveled and I know we got tested, but I don’t want to unknowingly bring anything to anyone. Maybe soon, once we’ve been here for a bit. But for now, I’d rather just hear all your stories and FaceTime than anything happen to anyone.”

“What time is your call time tomorrow?” you added when he only hummed in response.

“6:45. Car will probably come by around 6 and I should be back near 2. Have a bit of a short day tomorrow.”

“No rush.”

“Yes rush. I wanna be with you both. Missed you loads, ya know? Only gone for a few weeks but I was going mad. Don’t think we should separate for a while.” his voice was soft as his neck strained forward in order to press loving kisses to the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder.

Since the moment you met Harry a decade ago, it was obvious he always knew what to say. He had a knack for spewing out the words you most needed to hear exactly when you needed to hear them. Whether it was comforting your stage fright, in an argument about tv or film characters, helping you pick out outfits, discussing your relationship, or talking about the future, you both seemed to be on the same wavelength. It made life with him so much easier, because you knew that he understood you. You knew that no matter what happened, he would support you and love you. And that’s all you needed.

So you decided finally, after the pit of anxiety in your stomach grew and grew all day, that it was finally time.

“Pretty good you feel that way. ‘Cause I wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you that you’re kind of stuck with me. At least for another fourteen years.”

“Hmm. Want more than that.”

Taking a deep breath, hands shaking and mind running a mile a minute, you asked; “How about another eighteen after that?”

But your nerves were all for nothing because the comment flew right over Harry’s head. Completely missed the point of why you used that specific amount of time and was more focused on giving your middle a tight squeeze - his arms moving from their place at your side to around your stomach.

“Mhm. Even longer than that.”

The words brought an image to mind, one you found yourself thinking about a lot the last couple weeks. One of you and Harry sitting in the living room in your home, talking to your grown children while your grandchildren ran around you happily, doing their best to animatedly explain ways of the world you just couldn’t comprehend. And the pure glee you felt being surrounded by such a beautiful family, one that you created with Harry. But you knew it wasn’t just some fantasy you would dream about. It was something that you would one day get to experience, and that excitement pushed you over the edge.

“You’re stuck with me forever, baby.” you hummed, sinking further into his hold. “But for five seconds, I need you to leave me so you can grab me a Tums.” the anxiety nerves reared their head yet again, knowing there was no missing the punchline this time.

Concern instantly flooded his voice, taking you by the shoulders and moving you away from his chest and to the right so he could look at your face. “Why? You feeling alright? What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t help but simple sweetly at his concern, lifting a hand to rest it on his smoothly clean shaven cheek. “Yeah. You know how I get after flying. Do you mind just grabbing the Tums from my bag?” you asked again, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel the uptick in your breathing.

“You mean one of the nine hundred bags you brought?” Harry joked but still carefully slid out from behind you in order to get whatever you needed.

“Hey, we’re gonna be here a while. I need options.” Because of Covid, the UK was heading into yet another lockdown at the start of November, lasting until the first week of December so for now, so for now, you knew you and Bella would be spending at least a month with Harry in Los Angeles.

“Can take any of my clothes.” he grinned, turning around to face the bed again and bent down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Y’know I love when you wear my clothes.”

“Oi! Say that again but let me record it! If that’s the case, I never want to hear you complain about missing clothes ever again!”

“I said I like you wearing them, not keeping them hidden away for me to find three years later.” he laughed at the memory of his favorite blue hawaiian shirt going missing after getting back from Jamaica, only for it to be found in the back of your closet when moving a few months ago. His voice got quieter the farther he walked from the bed, the confines of the walk in closet filled with his clothes muffling the words towards the end of his sentence.

“Alright, but remember how excited you were to find it after so long? Like Christmas in the summer!”

“‘S’that what’s gonna start happening? You just stealing things I haven’t looked at in years and regifting them?”

“Lord knows you don’t need any more things laying around. Probably wouldn’t even notice anything being gone.” it was true. Over the years, Harry had gathered a very large collection of… things. Everything from clothes to lockets to key cards from hotels, and being in the career he is, he can afford to have it all. But even you had to say he had more than he knew what to do with most of the time, to which he always had some sort of rebuttal for.

But this time, it never came.

This time, you were met with silence from inside the closet, and you had no control over the way your hands began shaking. There were so many different kinds of silence; one of anger, of shock, nervousness, confusion, but any of those were a rarity when it came to Harry. He was someone who always had something to say, despite the emotions running through him. Silence was never really his thing, hell he even said so in a song, so the ideas of what could be running through his head started to eat you alive.

After waiting a few minutes and still receiving no sound of life from the smaller room, you began to get worried. Obviously nothing had happened to him while you were sitting feet away, but what was happening in there? Did he have a heart attack as soon as saw what you had laid out on top of your suitcase when he was ordering food? Did he fall and hit his head? Was he trying to find a good way to break up with you? No, he wouldn’t do that, you knew he wouldn’t do that. But before you could fully get off of the bed to check on him, he slowly sauntered out of the room, staring down at the piece of black fabric gripped tightly in his hands, and you halted in your spot - sitting up right on the side of his bed with your feet dangling off the side.

“Wha - what is this?” his whisper was so unbelievably low, you were surprised you could make out any of the words.

“What do you think it is?” you replied, your voice equally as loud so not to spook him while he was in such a clear state of shock.

“I - I don’t know.”

He still had taken his eyes off of the material in his hands, looking at it like it held every secret unknown to man somewhere within its seams.

“I think you do know.”

Finally, Harry lifted his head in order to look at you. And you felt your eyes water as soon as he did. The rims of his eyes and nose were a deep red, the kind of red you get when trying desperately to hold in sobs. His eyes were a brighter shade of green as more and more tears obstructed his vision, and now that you looked at him properly, his entire body seemed to be shaking.

“If this is a joke, it’s really fucking mean.” he choked out, putting all of his effort into holding back his cries. “Please don’t joke about this.”

As hard as he was trying not to let his tears flow, you were beyond the point of no return. Your cheeks were stained with tears, old dried ones leaving tracks for the new ones to flow freely down, and the lump in your throat prevented you from speaking as loud and confidently as you would have liked.

“It’s not a joke, Harry.” you shook your head, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

“No?”

“No.”

Harry went back to not saying anything, glancing between you and the black in his hand, not knowing which held more important information. You could see the inner struggle he was having trying to comprehend what was happening, and you wanted to get up and yell it to him. But he needed to go through whatever emotions he needed to, at his own pace.

So you waited for him to do just that.

“So you - you’re pregnant?” he finally sighed, the question making the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren’t watching every inch of his face like a hawk. Holding back his tears was long gone as they now flowed down his cleanly shaven cheeks.

“I’m pregnant.” you smiled, the words coming out in one whoosh of air.

So fast that you didn’t understand how he did it, the black shirt - that at first glance was a replica of the logo for the film The Godfather, but when taking a double take, could be found to read The Twinfather instead - was laying in a pile on the floor in front of the closet door and Harry was laying on top of you. Now on your back with Harry hovering above you, both of his forearms on either side of your head, you could fully see the overwhelming joy swimming in his eyes. The last time you had seen this exact look was the day Bella was born. Like within his mind, he was watching the entire world unfold with endless possibilities and unfathomable love.

Harry didn’t let you say anything before he was pressing kisses to your lips, both of your tears making the experience feel a bit slippery as they blended together on your skin. But nothing could make the moment anything less than perfect. Harry’s warmth covered you like a blanket, completely consuming you within the personal bubble that had formed around you on the bed. His lips moved against your with determination, but also care and gratitude, the vaguely strawberry flavored lip balm he was wearing smeared against your own lips, letting the memory of this moment linger for hours to come.

“You’re really pregnant?” Harry asked, his excitement taking over once he pulled back from the kiss.

“Yeah baby,’m pregnant.”

“And is it? It’s - it’s twins? Are you sure? How do you know?” although you knew he would always be there with and for you during all of this, it was reassuring to see him be so ecstatic about the new addition to your family.

“When B and I went to get our Covid tests, the lady asked me if there was a chance I could be pregnant, and - and I couldn’t give her a confident no. So I called Dr. Kelter to see if I could get an appointment before we left and she took me the same day.” your smile grew as you watched him hold on to your every word, wanting to know every single detail you had to give him.

“And she told you it was twins?”

“Yeah. Said she could see them both right away since they can see twins so early. Said ‘m about eleven weeks.” the tears returned to your eyes when you thought about being pregnant again, how much your life was going to change and the excitement that was about to be brought into your lives.

Obviously Harry was feeling the same before he let out another sob, this time his upper half falling onto your chest and burying his face in your neck, his lower body seeming to unconsciously stay away from crushing your belly.

“I love you so fucking much.” he whispered, and you could feel the ever so gentle peck of his lips against your skin. “So fucking much.”

“I love you, Harry.” you whispered back.

“Who knows?” he asked, undoubtedly thinking back to when you were pregnant with Bella and everyone in your lives seemed to know before he did. Something you regretted, but was necessary at the time.

“No one. Just you and me. Want to do everything with you this time.” not wanting to ruin the moment, but also wanting to be realistic for a moment in your clouded minds, you took a second to figure out how to say the concerns that were rushing through your mind at a mile a minute. “I know things are crazy right now and the world is scary and we’re both so busy, but we said if it happened, it happened.”

Harry was pushed up on his forearm in an instant, his other hand cupping your cheek in order to drag your attention to him. He was positively glowing. How only a second ago he was standing pale faced in the closet doorway was beyond you, because now, it was like the sun shined behind his irises.

“I have never been happier in my entire life. We’ll figure it all out together. Like we always do.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #another world imagine #aw-inspo #harry styles fanfiction #1dff

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

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pyxis.

dialogue prompt #9: “Cheer up it's Christmas Eve, sweetheart”

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: christmas au, brother's best friend au, fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 3,412 (oh no)

warnings: reader is a lil sad but nothing angsty tho

summary: christmas was always an eager wait. less for the tree decorations, family dinner and the fuss of toddlers. more for your childhood best friend who you kissed under a mistletoe years back.

a/n: ahhh!!! I'm not completely satisfied with how this turned out to be. the inspiration was from a few christmas themed fics I read here and the movie ‘It's Christmas, Eve’. anyway this was my attempt though it's nowhere near christmas time. one of my personal goals is to celebrate a christmas like the west, the snow, the fuss and the commotion ;-;. Also I lost sense of time and space and this turned out to be 3k ;-;

masterlist

“Cheer up it's christmas eve, sweetheart”, your mother chimes as she pours brown batter into little cupcake moulds.

You simply smile at her, the festive mood not really getting to you because of exhaustion. Uni was tough, and enjoying this Christmas when you know you have tons of essays due in a few days was hammering inside your brain every now and then.

“Is that chocolate?”, you ask, leaning your tired body on the counter where she is at work.

“And orange”, she smiles, turning around to preheat the oven.

“Where's Jin”. Though you hated the routinely flicks against your forehead, the absence of your big brother felt weird.

“He went with Jimin to get the Christmas tree”.

The mention of Jimin brings a smile to your face. His soft features and captivating grin filling your head. If there was one of the few things you enjoyed coming back to your hometown for holidays, it's chocolate cupcakes your mom bakes and Jimin.

His family are friends with yours after all. You, Jin and Jimin attended the same school until college and other priorities in life drift you apart. Though the bond must have rusted a bit, you can't deny the fact that you still have that crush which started somewhere in middle school, on a chritmas eve like this when he kissed your cheeks shyly under the mistletoe. Your friends and family, and even Jimin himself must have seen it nothing more than platonic, but you still find yourself relieving the moment in your head however crazy it may sound.

Standing up straight, you decide to fix your bed hair and complete the skincare routine before the said duo drops.

“Mrs. Y/L/n...”, Jimin softly kicks the back door. He is carrying one end of a huge fir, and your brother on the other end, grunting from the freezing snow outside.

“Oh dear place it right there”, you mother is quick to her feet helping the boys and doing her usual commentary on how well the tree looked.

Jimin looks more handsome than ever, especially with his nose and cheeks dusted in scarlet from the cold. He looks really huggable in his fluffy sweaters and red beanie. Jin is busy commanding around so you choose to sit back, a very typical sibling energy and the size of decoration boxes and the tree itself not really appetizing to your will to find any strength.

“Hey Y/n!”, Jimin stares back at your eyes in a split moment which has your lashes fluttering suddenly. You probably look like you are carrying a disease and right now you become very hyper aware of that.

“You alright? You look tired”, he comments. You feel his eyes carefully studying the black under your eyes and worrying his mind because that's what he is like. He cares about everyone and everything, has a heart so soft it hurts to even think about it.

“Jet lag...”, you say, “I'll be fine”. You shoot a little thumbs up on his way to reassure.

“Why didn't Jin get the tree earlier? It's Christmas in a few hours”, you dodge the focus around you and walk near in an attempt to closely examine the tree for no reason other than feeling Jimin’s eyes a little too long on you.

Your brother gets visibly annoyed seeing you start a very unnecessary talk. So he is completely obliged to shoot back with, “Because you were in charge of Christmas decorations this year but your lazy ass flew down here only yesterday”.

“You know I was busy with Uni!”

“Whatever”, he shrugs, getting back to the box of tree decorations. You feel a little bad seeing yourself not being helpful during a festive season. It felt like you were procrastinating on your responsibilities as always.

“Um...is there any way I can help?”, you ask softly, earning a mischievous grin from Jin and your mom fills in the answer.

“We need more baubles. Also I missed out gifts for Aerum and June, so maybe you can get them”. Now this was already tiring and you were not lying earlier either, the jet lag was still choking you alive. You wonder if the huge pile of stars and glitters beside your foot aren't enough but then maybe it's true because this is the largest fir you ever saw for Christmas in your house. And speaking of the five year old notorious duo, your cousins-- Aerum and June, you have no other option than to step out into the butt numbing cold and get something for the sake of not getting your brains eaten.

While you stand there doing these calculations, Jimin puts a two and two and immediately suggests to tag along with you.

“That'd be great! Thanks sweetie”, your mom chimes, her fine lines of face gathering around her eyes while she does so and you catch her throwing a wink to your side and you pretend you never saw that.

“Thank you Jimin”, you smile in all honesty while he reciprocates the same.

“No problem. I'll get my car. Will you be ready in an hour? I think you just woke up”

“Uh...yeah”, you fake a laugh, “Yes I'll be ready in an hour”

Jimin still lives here in your hometown, attends a community college nearby and his house is just a few steps away from your own. You remember how you had the same analogy in your mind as well. You like living here. You like Jimin’s company. The lake Park and the annual ice skating competition in December and the bookstores and coffee shops at the outskirts of the town. And you can't seem to clearly remember when and where that feeling started to become foreign. Maybe it was a teenage quirk to explore the world that you are now a three hour flight away from all of this. It wasn't a deep regret, but seeing Jimin, it almost felt like it. It felt like you betrayed him. Because he seemed to be keeping his word to this day.

This year, it's a few degrees lower than what it usually is and you find yourself chattering your teeth together as you walk to Jimin’s house.

His footsteps rush to get the door as soon as you ring the doorbell and he greets with the same wide grin as if he hasn't just saw you an hour ago.

“Let's go?”, he asks immediately, getting house keys from his coat pocket and locking the front door before stepping out making you confused.

“There's no one home? Where are your parents?”

“Oh well didn't Mrs. Y/L/n tell you?”, he studies your features and gets his response so he continues “They went to New York this year for Christmas. It's some elder people thing I think...so I'll be spending Christmas this year with your family”

“Really!?”, you chime, and then immediately notice a very childish jump you did with tiny fists and all, feeling a little embarrassed at yourself, “Ah... uh I mean that's great”.

“Yeah”, he giggles, sounding like a twelve year old who is still waiting for his growth spurt, “Get in the car it's freezing in here”.

Since it's been six odd months you've spoken to Jimin, you figured it would would be strange and awkward to be with him, but his demeanor states otherwise. He could effortlessly begin conversations and build momentum with you and by the time you are at a thrift store, he is aware of the little gist of student life and the dramatically exaggerated history research paper still due.

“What are you getting for the twins?”, he asks, seeing you checking out the kids toys section with absolutely no idea and that's exactly what you reply to him.

“How about this puzzle?”, he brings a big jigsaw to your glance and you figure it's a great thing to have their little brains engaged and give yourself time to breathe.

“It's perfect!”, you add, immediately placing it your cart with a few decors you picked up from earlier aisles.

Jimin places an extra pack of Christmas candies in the cart, and you send him a questionable look knowing it's his way of bribing the kids coming this evening. He puts too much effort into people's happiness, something you wish you were capable of as well.

The shopping went smooth. It was therapeutic to get hot chocolate with extra marshmallows afterwards like he insisted followed by that very cliche movie scene where one of them develops a creme moustache and the other notices and dabs it off.

You want this moment to linger a little longer, but your whole family arrives in less than two hours and the decorations were due. If Jin doesn't have you in the next thirty minutes he might as well eat all the cupcakes your mom is baking as revenge.

“I had a great time”, Jimin states as he stops the car in front of your house, stealing the words from your mouth and warmth hugs your cheeks immediately.

“Me too. It's been long since we spent time with each other”

You hear a lone sigh with white fogs coming out of his plump lips while he does so, as if he were suddenly sad when you mentioned that.

“Are you okay?”

His grips tightens around the steering, “I've missed you”, he says, eyes meeting slowly. And as if he was suddenly pulled back to earth he conjures another sentence to not sound so vulnerable.

“I uh... It's just--”

“I've missed you too”

Even with the gear box painstakingly blocking the way, you throw your upper half towards his body anyways and you find him hugging you back. His hugs still feel the same from years back; safe and warm and filled with love.

If it wasn't for the constant reminder that your brother is probably plotting a murder against you, you would've stayed much longer in his embrace. Maybe the hug was a big straightforward for a bond still gradually blooming, but it didn't feel weird at all and when you pull back he is smiling down at you.

“I thought you two lovebirds flew off”, a very annoyed Jin states from above you. He is balancing himself on a chair to attach the mistletoe to the ceiling.

“Sorry hyung”, Jimin says. And somehow now you are getting super aware of the way your family is low key shipping you both. Not that it's an irritating thing of course though you seem to act like it. But you have no idea what's going on with Jimin, what if he said he missed you as your childhood friend? It's a lot difficult to segregate his priority of giving affection. He seems to be giving justice in terms of care for every living being he knows.

“The circus is on its way so I hope you both hurry with putting up everything together”, the voice above states, now lowering himself to ground after putting up the twig.

Three of you giggle at the mention of your family as a circus. Well in a way it definitely was. You have a bunch if uncles who crack awful jokes, a trait Jin himself as picked up from a tender age of ten. Then their wives and kids who share certainly the same braincells in comprehending things. You bet they'll ask you again about your major and your dating history once they walk in through that door amidst clearly stating everytime that you are a history major and yes still very single.

In the hallway there is a half decorated tree. A thread of fairly lights wrapped around the green and very few baubles hanging here and there.

“I'll put up the star and join you”, Jimin says, digging out a golden star from the carton. Though now he doesn't know why it was a good idea for him to announce that when both of you were almost the same height. He is just a few centimeters taller than you and the top of the fir is still very much way above your heads.

So with a chuckle you both figure Jin has to do it.

“This is your final year right?”, Jimin asks stepping closer to you. He seemed nervous about something. Or was it anxious?

“Yeah...you?”

“Yeah...”, his sweet tone was drawn almost like a whisper and you sense you should ask him further about what's wrong. But before you had to deal with a starter he continues,

“Are you planning to work in Chicago as well?”

“Sweetheart help me clean up the kitchen please”, your hear your mom's voice overpowering through the house. Which is good. Because you don't know what you are supposed to answer. It was as if he was almost hopeful that you'll choose your hometown all over again. But you aren't sure. So you take the opportunity to step away from the situation excusing yourself.

And while you are clearing the blobs of batter stuck on the counter, your mind is a haywire. What are you going to do? Though you know your whole family wants you to stay, it's still a foggy place to be in. Four years apart in another city as a college student has not provided much, except caffeine addiction and sleepless nights. Things were not even as fun as everyone told you.

A few steps away Jimin silently prays that you stay, because he had truly missed you. Even though you have outgrown from the eighteen year old shell as he had known, he finds himself actively choosing to be with you. Even when other things in life occupies his mind, there's an element of it which goes back to you.

“They are here!”. You groan silently, while your parents are throwing their hands in air, giggles and chatter fills in as your uncles and aunts and the taunting toddlers welcome themselves in.

“Y/n! You have grown so much!”, the older aunt comments, and you supply a manufactured smile to tag along. Other comments follow by soon, about how tired you are, gasps about not having a partner and future plans, all of which are not completely answerable at the moment but you manage to get through them all and finally excusing yourself back to the garage convincing there are more decor supplies in there.

Families are nice. They make festivals brighter and lives less lonely. But yours was just hard sometimes. Not that you completely loathed the people now fueling themselves off the cup cakes your mom bakes, you were just merely lost, still yet to come up with an answer to what your stance is after graduation.

“Hey...”. Jimin has joined you now which you notice feeling a warmth against your shoulder when he sits, with an extra scraf knowing the garage is still comparatively chilly than the house, “you okay?”.

“Yeah...I was just...thinking”

“Is this about earlier? I'm sorry if I made you anxious”, he quickly adds.

“No!...I mean yeah but, it's high time I find a ground with this. What are your plans?”

“I was thinking about teaching at Jefferson High”, he shifts rather uncomfortably. He is talking of the school in your town, your school, where you have lots of memories with Jimin, “You know...like we said during Junior year in high school?”

“I'm sorry Jimin”, you feel the guilt inside you growing, “I never kept my promises”.

“Hey...that's okay! Everyone changes. I just want you to be happy. I...I hope you are happy Y/n”, he reassures, taking your hand from your side and squeezing it between his soft palms.

“I don't know about that either...”

As much as you hated showcasing vulnerability to another person, you know Jimin is an exception. You had cried to him about everything during school days and he had never invalidated a single thing, even when you were visibly dramatic over a downpour during a family picnic when you were five.

Jimin is frozen on his seat as if he can't find the words. He was never good with words so instead he hugs you, a little longer than the last time till he is sure you have calmed down. Grateful for not ending up crying, you smile up at him and remind yourselves to get back inside to avoid suspicion, especially from the kids who take humiliating people as an important milestone to achieve.

When you enter back inside and get immediately surrounded by a million questions and chores thrown at you, you find your answer. Maybe your heart belongs back to everything your younger self had blabbered about. Not to mention, this fairly good reunion with your crush feels nice, though, he might still see it as platonic. Maybe he makes things less daunting.

By the way Jimin was owning everyone's heart in the house, it felt like he was family. Well in a way he is. But to put more clarity, he bought things together and his actions bought so much peace and love within everyone. Even the notorious twins listen carefully to him and help the uncles and aunts in the kitchen.

He is again by your side, two cupcakes rests on his palms and you take it with a silent ‘thanks’.

Seeing no signs of him beginning a talk now, you think of coming up with something. Maybe a memoir from today? Or about how absolutely handsome he looks right now? Wait.

“They are under the kissing twig!”, Aerum screams like the house caught in fire, her sibling joining by the side to provoke the habit even more.

“It's called a mistletoe Aerum”, your aunt corrects before pasting a smug across her lips.

Nothing changed. They are the same people. Hyping you and Jimin to kiss just like when you were thirteen. If the factor of time is removed, this is the exact night. Both of you cemented to the flooring as if you forgot to exist.

Both of your necks snap together to the mistletoe Jin had attached to the ceiling earlier. And when you lower your gaze back, face gawks at each other eye to eye. It's the same. He has that blush, the shyness from years ago. It's going to be platonic. Yet again. And this moment will only ever be romantic and flowery in your head.

June was the first to squeak, and Aerum shuts her eyes the moment Jimin is leaning his mouth towards your lips. It was difficult to relax under the stares of many, but when he ghosts his mouth over your again and leans in for a second kiss, you are fixated on him. Hands holding each other, the plump of his lips so soft it felt like you were biting into a fluff of cloud.

Maybe he'll have an explanation to your family for this. Not like anyone in the audience was disappointed. Your mother was almost in tears? And Jin looked hardly surprised with any of this. As if it was all swell according to his plans.

“You both are so cute”, one of the aunts awes and your mother is quick by her side, completely agreeing to it.

“Jimin...”, you return your gaze to the equally flustered man who just kissed you and he sounded almost breathless,

“I'm sorry if this was wrong it ju--”

“I like you”, you immediately snap in and his face is a void for an instant. Fully processing the words, his eyes disappear when he grins, “I like you too...a lot”.

“Are you two dating?”, the twins haven't dropped the case yet, running to your feet to help their curious brains.

“Yes...”, Jimin responds, looking up at you for a reassurance, which you quickly supply with a nod, “Yes we are dating”.

When the kids are satisfied they go away snickering to themselves.

“I decided to stay”, you say.

“Really!?”, his disbelief was comical, yet wholesome considering how much he wished for this, “I'm...I'm so happy!”.

Giggling at him, this time you lean forward and peck the corner of his lips.

“You lovebirds better get a room”, Jin announces and thankfully not loud enough to catch everyone else's attention.

Usually Jin expects a punch to his arms from his sister, but he sees how grateful you are for his mistletoe decor. He leaves the couple, satisfied that there won't be any more ranting about how much Jimin likes you.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Text

A Reading: Part 7 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death/blood/killing, implied canon typical violence, witchcraft, kissing??

Word Count: 2.6k~

We love having a plot- exposition chapter bay-be

"You let them go?"

You couldn't help but wince at the words. You stared at him, at the snow-white haired vampire in front of you. He had been hard to read before, but now his reaction was plainly clear. He was livid. With the way he was staring at you, you thought that he may even look murderous. You gulped, glancing at the others. As if any of them would possibly be any help.

Paul looked between the two of you, but he lost his usual smile and clamped his mouth shut. Dwayne had sat up as well, but he was staring at David. For a moment, you thought perhaps he was silently communicating with him. Trying to help. Quickly, that thought was dashed from your mind. Your eyes flicked to Marko, who had suddenly become very interested in his own nail-beds. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity of silence had passed when you looked back at David and gave him a nod. Before he could say, or do, anything, you started,

"They're just kids-" But David was cutting you off.

"They're hunters." You could hear the anger in his voice. You were half expected him to grab you, to drain you dry and call it a night. "You're the one that saw our deaths. Those kids? They kill us." He said, and you quickly looked away at the reminder. You knew. You were the one that had seen it in the cards. You decided to take a page out of Paul's book. You shut your mouth, avoiding his eyes as you opted to stare at the blanket you were under instead. But David had stopped. He didn't continue, and you knew that you were going to have to plead your case. Change his mind before he decided you weren't worth keeping around.

"I can't just kill a couple of kids, David." You whispered. You almost expected him to grab you, kill you then. You knew he was probably considering it. But when he didn't, you continued. "The course is changed anyways. Marko didn't die. They took Star, but-" And you were cut off again, but this time by the blonde besides you,

"They took Star?" And you looked over at him. You thought that was what you heard, and you gave him a shrug. You weren't sure.

"Laddie?" Dwayne asked, and this question truly had you stumped. They were quick to see that you didn't have any answers, and the boys exchanged a look. Your potential death was put on pause for now, as the boys realized they had a cave to investigate.

You had gone through the cave first. You were supposed to see if they had left any traps, and you were near certain that they hadn't. You remembered how the boys had screamed, running away from potential danger like a couple of terrified toddlers. It made you more sure of your decision, even if you knew David was still pissed. He hadn't spoken to you since you'd left their hideout. The boys were looking around, but all of their stuff was still there. Nothing had been taken or set. Well, besides the two half vampires. Dwayne picked up Laddies bear, holding it as he stood besides the bed where the little boy slept. You watched him, biting your lip.

You wished, for a moment, that you had done something to stop them. But, you couldn't have without leaving the sub-cave. Without abandoning the boys and leaving them for anyone who slipped past you. You went over to him hesitantly. None of the boys had really spoken to you, and you carefully reached to hold Dwaynes hand. He let you, letting out a sigh as he placed the bear back on the bed.

"He won't sleep without it." Dwayne said quietly, and you looked down at the little stuffed animal. Dwayne was frowning, and you could see the distress in his brow. You gave his hand a squeeze. You hadn't known them long. Not long enough to know much about the younger boy. But, you could guess that, to Dwayne, he'd been like a little brother. Perhaps to all of them, you thought as you glanced around the room. You were even considering that, in another timeline, maybe Star had been like their sister. You saw it in the way Paul hung around her room, frowned at the things she left behind as he went through them lightly. You could guess what he was thinking, because you were thinking the same. Would she come back for them when things were all over? When they were dead? You watched as he picked up one of her books, throwing it against the wall. She'd betrayed them. That was clear. Marko was yanking the taller blonde away from Stars room before he had the chance to destroy it. You watched as they passed, and you could practically see the telepathic conversation they were having in their heads.

The pair of you were quiet for a moment before you looked to where David had stopped. He was standing by the chandelier, looking around the room meticulously. Looking for anything that may be out of place. Anything that may harm them.

"They're kids, David." You reminded him. "They probably don't even know how to set up a trap." You said, and, from the glare David gave you, you were almost positive that he wasn't going to respond. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette, before he said one singular cold word.

"Yet."

You sat on the floor of the cave, shuffling your cards. Paul sat besides you on the floor, Dwayne perched on the side of the fountain, and Marko stood. David was busy looking unimpressed in his chair. The boys were too anxious to see their new futures, so you'd chosen a different angle. You knew what Michael looked like, and now even knew his full name. You knew that, for the boys, he was the harbinger of death. If you could glance into his future, perhaps the four of you could avoid it. If only you could actually pick three cards.

You slammed your deck against the ground, letting out a noise of frustration. You'd shuffled it for five minutes, but nothing was happening. Nothing was calling you to stop. You ran an angry hand through your hair and said,

"Something's wrong. It's like his future- it's like Michael is being blocked." It had never happened to you before. You didn't even know why it was happening, but you had a few ideas. The first was that it was because he wasn't right in front of you, but you knew that wasn't a cause for an entire block. You'd get his future, just not a clear picture.

"Blocked?" Marko asked, and you couldn't even think of a way to explain. You reached for the cards again, but even with just the intention of the brunette in mind made you feel a disconnect. You sighed,

"Hidden." You clarified. Protected, you thought. It was like he didn't exist, as if the name had no relation to the boy you had in mind. Quickly, Paul suggested,

"Try his brother." And try you did. Again, nothing. No call from the cards. It was exactly the same as before. You ran another hand through your hair. Both of them, both of the Emerson's were being hidden from you. You wished you had known the name of the boys Sam was with, then you could get somewhere. You knew, in the eyes of certain boys, your usefulness was quickly seeming to run thin. You had to think of something quick, so you went with your intuition.

"Something is blocking me. Protecting them. I think-" The second you tried to think of who it could be, what could be blocking you, a haze went over your mind. You reached for your forehead, grimacing when your head began to swim. It was a haze that made you pause, before you were standing up and pushing yourself to find your journal. The boys watched you, watched you scramble. "Something's wrong." You said, standing and flipping through your pages. You stopped when you reached a drawing you'd done. It was a map of Santa Carla, and you ripped it out to put it to the side. "Do you know if there are any witches in Santa Carla? Any besides me?" You asked, and David scoffed.

"What?" Paul asked, and David was quick to say.

"Besides you? Of course not." And when you gave him a look, his face flattened into a frown as he said, "We'd know." For some reason you doubted that. You gave him a look before waving a pencil towards you. You used the map you'd drawn a few days before, sketching it out and using it as a guide. "What are you doing?" He asked, and you had half a mind to ignore him to focus on your sketch. You were doing it quickly, not paying attention to detail. Instead, you said,

"This is a trick my mother taught me. Sketch a place with a map as reference and whatever you can't draw," You paused. You hadn't paid fully attention to what you were doing. Hadn't put any intention behind it as you finished it. You looked up at David, and showed him the messy sketch with the more detailed one besides it. "Is protected."

In the messily drawn picture, there were two houses missing. Ones that you'd been able to draw before.

You and the boys had looked over the pictures. You were quickly told that one of them was the Emerson house. The other one? They had no idea. You'd explained that whatever was going on, whatever was blocking you from the Emerson's, was blocking you specifically. And that they hadn't started blocking you until you'd aligned yourself with the vampires.

You'd moved to the couch, staring at the chandelier. It was well past sunset. Well past whenever the boys would probably search out the Emerson's. You were thinking about how stupid you'd been. Not only had you walked into vampire territory, but you'd walked into another witch's territory. You almost wanted to blame yourself for not having scoped the area out enough, but not even the boys had known about them.

"Whoever this is, they're protecting the Emerson's." You said. You wondered why. What would a witch have to do with a family like the Emerson's? The boys had told you that they'd just moved to town, so how were they able to score protection so quickly? Especially from someone as powerful enough to block another witch? But David didn't let you linger in your thoughts for long. He was sitting in his chair, seeming half ready to explode at any second. You knew he liked control, you could guess that. And now everything seemed to be out of it. With the block, you weren't even sure you'd be able to get an accurate reading of their futures.

"What do we do?" David asked. You looked over at him. You could tell that the question practically pained him to ask. You stared at him, before your eyes flicked to the others.

"Honestly?" You said, lifting your hands just to let them drop. "Move." And David didn't seem particularly impressed by your answer. But, really, what else could they do? They'd lost to a couple of kid hunters and halves before. Now, there was a witch? A powerful one? Even you had to admit that they were screwed. Even if it meant your own potential death.

"We should just go to their house and end this." Marko suggested, but neither you nor David seemed impressed by that suggestion either. David took a drag of his cigarette, and you shook your head. "We have the numbers!" Marko said, his voice rising. But even that wasn't for certain. Five vampires and a witch? Against three humans and two halves? And whatever witch they had protecting them, or whoever else they had on their side? It was too risky.

"You'll get yourselves killed." You said flatly, and even David didn't argue with you on that. Despite the attitude he'd been throwing your way all night, he seemed to silently agree with you. It was a stupid idea. It made sense when Paul agreed with him.

"Listen, we didn't have Marko last time. Now, we do and he's- He's our fighter. Whatever we get into- We can take those little shits" You could hear the emotion in his voice, see it in how he punched his own open hand. The desperation to do something. Anything. He wasn't thinking clearly, though he hardly did, and you shared a look with both David and Dwayne. Even if you couldn't hear their thoughts, you could guess. Definitely not happening.

You motioned for Paul to come closer, to sit besides you. He listened, sighing heavily as he settled next to you. You reached up to hold his cheek when he rested his head on your shoulder. You could practically feel the worry radiating off of him. You could guess why he was so tightly wound, so ready to spring. Sure, you'd made it past the first phase, but now you were blind. You couldn't tell them what was coming, or how to stop it. But, he seemed to relax some when you stroked his cheek. Marko seemed to take personal offense from how quickly the taller blonde had been swayed.

"Well, then what?" He snapped, and Dwaynes eyes went to you. You looked back for just a moment, before your eyes retreated to David. He didn't say a word. He was staring a hole in the wall, and you finally sighed. You had an idea, one you'd been keeping from crossing the forefront of your mind.

It was a bad idea. One even worse than all of theirs. But it was the only one you had, and the only one that could possibly result in not having the wannabe hunters show up at sunrise.

You looked at your detailed drawing, and then up at the house in front of you. You knew, to some degree, that this was the worst idea that you had ever come up with. But, really, what else could you do?

You were alone. The boys had dropped you off down the street, their bikes rumbling as they sped away towards the night. They were going off to get something to eat, something to build their strength. You were here to confront the other witch, and, hopefully, come to some sort of understanding. For a moment, you briefly thought about how hesitant Dwayne had been to let you walk up the street. He'd cupped your cheek, his eyes telling you everything. Though, it had been Paul that had said,

"You sure you wanna go alone?" And you'd given him a nod. You'd given both Dwayne and Paul a kiss, even sparing one for Markos cheek. When you came to David, you'd met the same icy eyes that you had before. Though, they seemed to have melted a fraction. This was dangerous. For you more than any of them. He'd brushed your hair out of your face, before he told you,

"Try not to get yourself killed." And you could see that he'd meant it to be reassuring. In his own way. But, now, you'd wished for something a little kinder. You half expected to not be able to walk up the driveway, for something to push you back or turn you around. But nothing did, and you made it all the way to the front of the house. You'd had to pass by a couple of cars, one of them being a truck with imposing spikes piled into the back. You gulped, trying to push down your anxiety as you approached. You held your crystal out of instinct, trying to ground yourself.

You stood on the porch, taking a second to breathe before you lifted your hand. Just before your knuckles could make contact, the door opened. Startled, you pulled your hand back. You watched as an older man appeared, one with gray hair that looked as though it was tied back in some sort of ponytail. He was wearing a suit, and, despite your initial startle, he was wearing a warm, broad smile.

"Ah, she told me you were outside. Your friends with you?" And you stared into the scruffy face of the old man. You hadn't been expecting more than one person in the house, and, for a moment, you wished they were. You shook your head, and he said, "Good." Before he was leaving the door and leaving it open. He hobbled inside, and you stared after him, thinking once again about what you had gotten yourself into.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys x reader

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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 years

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If you're still taking requests. I just read your story about Eskel and Geralt retiring to the Vineyard and wanting to have a baby 👶. I think I really would love to see how that worked out for them. Great story, by the way, made me smile. So, please, if you have the time could you write a little about it.

A/N: Hello! I’ve had this prompt for a while. I’ve cleared up my inbox, but I still really wanted to answer it, so I hope you’re still in the fandom. This is the second part of this prompt here. Warnings: referenced canon-typical violence.

Two weeks after Eskel asked for a child, they attended the orphanage in Beauclair. The ride there was tense. Eskel fidgeted in his saddle, turning the reins over, tapping the pommel between his legs, feet shifting in the stirrups. Scorpion weathered it all with good nature, but Geralt was sure the horse would be rolling its eyes if it had the ability. “Boy or girl?”

“What?” Eskel looked up from the path ahead, with the looming town gates in the distance.

“Boy or girl?”

“Well, uh…” Eskel scratched his jaw, leather-padded fingertips rasping pleasantly across dark stubble. “A boy would fit better with - that is, I mean to say - we have more - we’re both, well - .”

“Do you remember those first few months with Ciri?” asked Geralt, his tone fond. They had been hellish, but he wouldn’t trade them for anything. Outside Eskel, Ciri was the best-damned thing that had ever happened to him.

Eskel puffed. “Oh, yeah. That was - somethin’. Girls are,” he paused, “women are - tough.”

“Worth it, though.”

“Absolutely.”

They rode through the high gates of Beauclair, dismounting as they entered more crowded streets. As they drew closer to the orphanage, Eskel spoke again. “I don’t care,” he murmured, “that is… I… whoever fits, you know?”

Whoever doesn’t run from us in fear. Geralt could hear the real reason beneath Eskel’s hesitance. There was every possibility that the children would flee from them in terror. They had already agreed they would only accept a child that came with them willingly; history wouldn’t repeat itself on their watch.

They tethered their horses to a nearby hitching post. Roach was moody enough to ward off any light fingers and Scorpion was liable to stare blankly at anyone who issued him a command outside Eskel; he didn’t even listen to Geralt half the time.

The noise of the street faded behind them as they stepped into the building, replaced with young, high-pitched voices filtering down through the rafters. Small feet ran over creaking floorboards, fleeing from another set in hot pursuit. The matron was expecting them. Geralt had written ahead. Even after Dandelion’s hard work and his own exploits, witchers were still an unwelcome shadow in anyone’s doorway.

“Ahh, Master Rivia,” said a clipped voice and stern frown as it arrived from a backroom. The matron was a dour-looking woman, her black hair scraped back into a tight bun, emphasising the sharpness of her grey eyes. “I’ve gathered some of our youngest in the room on your left."

“Thank you.” Geralt nodded and steered Eskel towards the closed door. He had given an age range in his letter and the reasons why. Neither of them was equipped to deal with a babe, but a child that was too old would have already absorbed a lot of prejudice. They needed a middle ground.

Eskel instinctively tilted his face away as they ducked into the room, and Geralt took his chin gently, tilting his head up. “Can’t hide,” he said softly. “Give them a chance.” Children were more forgiving - and trusting - than adults. They would look at Eskel and see a huge teddy bear that had once needed his face stitched back together, Geralt was certain.

There were about fifteen children in the room of varying ages. Toddlers still wearing linens waddled around on little legs, clutching wooden blocks and tattered toys, while older children huddled quietly in the corners. Predictably, a handful of them recoiled in terror when Eskel and Geralt appeared. Perhaps not just because they were witchers, but because they were men.

Eskel’s heart ached for all of them. “Geralt…”

“I know,” Geralt grunted, swallowing the knot in his throat. “Just… why don’t we - ?”

“Play with them.” The matron stood in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. “Children learn everything through play.”

“Right,” Eskel nodded and turned back. They had never played as children. Ragdoll knights, wooden blocks and stuffed bears were replaced with mushroom broths, steel swords and broken bones. Geralt crouched down by a toy chest, and Eskel wandered between the tiny beings that waddled and ran around his feet.

He kicked a block accidentally and flinched. When he bent down to pick it up, a small hand beat his to it. It belonged to a small girl. She could be no older than three. Her hair fell about a round-cheeked face in loose ringlets, and she peered at him with inquisitive green eyes. “Uh,” Eskel swallowed. “Hello.”

She stared. He tried again. “Good morning?”

“Oh, there’s no point,” the matron sighed. “She’s deaf and mute. The most she knows is a few signs with her hand. Asks for food, for the toilet. Good girl though. No trouble.”

“Ah.” Eskel nodded and lifted his hand to wave his fingers at her. She beamed and swept an open palm in a semi-circle before her face.

“That’s hello.”

“Yeah, I… I got that.” Eskel cleared his throat, unsure where to go from the initial greeting, but he needn’t have worried; the little girl thrust a few more blocks into his hand, grabbed his other one and led him towards her small collection. She was busy building a tower but had reached the limit of her own height. She pointed. Eskel was to continue her work.

Geralt took a seat on the windowsill and watched. Ten minutes turned into thirty, thirty minutes turned into an hour. The little girl pulled Eskel around the room to different activities, scowled at a young boy who screeched at the sight of Eskel’s face and then they sat down with two stuffed bears in the far corner.

The matron called the meeting to an end after two hours. “Well?”

“We’ll need a few more visits,” Geralt said, although he was certain Eskel had made his choice. “So she can get to know us more.”

“Of course,” the matron sighed. “What’s one more mouth to feed, hm?”

“Here.” Eskel snatched his coin purse from his belt and pushed it into her hands. “Some meat for them tonight. No gin, you hear?”

She scoffed. “Please.”

They returned home with a spring in their step. Barnabas pulled some Beauclair White from the cellar to celebrate and Geralt basked in the warm light that lit Eskel’s amber eyes.

On their second visit, they learned their young lady’s name. Sophie. She was native to Sodden, had fled south with her family and then lost her parents shortly after that. While the others gave Eskel and Geralt a wide berth, she was thrilled to see them and grabbed her new favourite person; Eskel, obviously, it was always Eskel.

She tugged insistently at his elbow until he sat on the threadbare rug and then thrust a book into his hands. Eskel looked up sharply and the matron shrugged her shoulders. When the witcher turned back, Sophie was retrieving her stuffed bear. “You… want me to read this to you?”

She stared at him for a moment longer, and then climbed into his lap, her ear pressed to his chest. Realisation dawned and Eskel drew in a stuttering sigh of adoration. She may not be able to hear his words, but she could feel the deep rumbles of his voice in his chest. Perhaps even in the air between them when he spoke to her. Eskel opened the book and started reading. Sophie hugged her bear tight and smiled serenely.

They visited a few more times. Just to be sure. They didn’t want to frighten her or take her away if she wasn’t sure, but each time she saw Eskel and Geralt in the doorway, her little face broke into a beaming grin.

On their fifth visit, they made arrangements to collect Sophie the following week.

Eskel spent every hour of every day preparing. He built her a bed with his bare hands, carving flowers and fairies into the headboard; sewed her sheets and sent Barnabas into town with a long list of items. Thankfully, the majordomo was able to fill in the gaps. The young lady would need dresses for occasions, hose for running around the estate, fine shoes and boots… “Leave it with me, Geralt,” Barnabas said, with a fond smile.

“Do… do you think she’ll want a pet?” Eskel asked Geralt as they drank wine on the veranda the night before they were due to collect her. “You know, a—uh, a puppy.”

“She’s already got you better trained than any puppy,” Geralt smirked and Eskel just beamed right back. “I’ll think about it. Maybe a terrier—for the rats.”

“Hm.”

Eskel hurried through his chores the following morning and stood ready with Roach gone noon as they had agreed. She was small enough to fit on the saddle in front of Eskel, and the matron had assured them she had very few belongings to speak of. A favourite bear, the book that Eskel had read to her the previous visit and one more set of clothes. Geralt and Eskel would ensure she never wanted for anything ever again.

They left the horses in their usual spot and entered the orphanage. The matron looked a little more flustered than their previous two visits. “Yes, good, finally. She’s ready. Take her.”

“Has she had time to say goodbye to - ?” Eskel gestured vaguely at the rest of the building.

“Yes.”

Sophie clutched her teddy and book close to her chest, gazing up at Eskel with sad, confused eyes. A few of their field workers had taught Eskel some rudimentary signs, and he crouched in front of her. He curled the fingers of his right fist, extended his smallest finger and pushed it out from his shoulder, mouthing ‘what’s wrong?’ She placed her thumb to her forehead, her forefinger extended.

“Geralt, I… uh, I don’t know that one.” Eskel looked at the matron, who pretended not to see.

Just as Geralt opened his mouth to push the issue, a door flew open on the floor above, smashing against the wall. Something fierce sprinted down the corridor and then thundered down the stairs. “No!” It was a boy. He could be no older than eight, with the same dark hair and green eyes as Sophie. Eskel fell back as the boy threw himself in front of Sophie and brandished a sharpened wooden stake at his chest, face twisted in an angry snarl.

“You feral little beast,” the matron cawed. “How dare you! Selfish! Despicable!”

“They’re not taking her! They’re not!”

“This is her chance at a good life. You’ll ruin it again. Away, now. I’ll have the cook take the belt to you, you little wretch.”

Eskel stood slowly. The boy’s shoulders were no bigger than the width of his spread hand, his limbs thin and gangly, his cheeks hollow. There were grazes on his knuckles and knees and a split in his lip; he’d been fighting recently. “Who is this?” Eskel asked, amber eyes turning to the matron. She cowed immediately.

“No one, he—.”

“Don’t lie to us,” Geralt chimed in, adding his own ire to the mix. “Truth, now.”

“This little urchin is her brother. He’s ruined a perfectly good adoption already. You don’t have to take him. I’ll call the cook, or you could use your sorcery, or—.”

Eskel had stopped listening. He was gazing down at this small boy who faced him, a creature that could wipe him from the face of the earth with no more than a flick of the wrist, his eyes brimming with fear, hurt and anger. There had been another young boy many decades ago. Just as angry. Just as alone. Shivering in a narrow cot in the dormitory, his knobbly knees clutched close to his chest. Eskel couldn’t save him from his fate and now they both wore the same medallion. “We’ll take him, too.”

“What?” the matron snapped, and then gathered herself. “You… you can’t bring them back. Once they leave here, they’re your problem. The brat is wild. We were going to hand him to the military as soon as he was tall enough.”

Geralt’s face hardened. He reached into his pocket for the coin purse and handed over the adoption fee wordlessly. Eskel crouched before the boy again; the stake quivered before his face. “You know what we are.”

“Witchers,” the boy grated, his lower lip rolling between his teeth. “You’re not taking her. Not turning her into one.”

“No, we won’t do that.”

“You all lie. All of you.”

“Give us a chance. Just one.”

Sophie tugged her brother’s elbow insistently, and he turned to her with a furrowed brow. She placed her precious cargo of bear and book on the floor, and then proceeded to make a series of hand gestures. The boy kept the stake primed at Eskel and watched her intently. “But they—,” he whispered, tone urgent, but she repeated the same gesture three more times. Insistent. A thumb up, followed by a tap to her chest.

The boy lowered the stake, turning a baleful stare back to Eskel. “You have one chance.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“And if you betray us, I’ll kill you. I will, I don’t care what you are, I’ll slit your throat—I’ll—I’ve done it before.”

“Of course,” Eskel nodded, accepting the bear and the book that Sophie placed in his arms. This wasn’t the place to address the boy’s past or his trauma, but it would need to be done. Gently, safely. At home. “Do you have a name?”

“Alex,” the boy swallowed.

“Eskel,” he swivelled and pointed up. “This is Geralt.”

Alex glanced between the two witchers, his forehead still creased, his lips turned into a deep frown. He didn’t trust them. He didn’t want to go with them. Eskel could see all that in his glare. But Sophie did, and Alex had spent so long living to defend his sister he had no other option but to follow her. “I’ll get my shoes.”

“And the rest of your things?”

“I only have shoes.”

They left when Alex returned with a set of scrappy boots. He flinched away from the hand Geralt offered when mounting Roach, and then sat rigidly in the saddle, expecting an attack from every angle. Eskel gathered Sophie close to him, tucking the bear safely inside his cloak with her, and made both his children a quiet promise. They would never have to fight to survive. They would never have to go hungry. They would never have to fear the shadows around the corner or sharpen a chair leg into a weapon.

Sophie and Alex would never have to be frightened again.

#rawrkinwrites #Dadskel #Eskel #Witcher Eskel #Geralt #Geralt of Rivia #fluff

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jeanjauthor · 3 years

Text

The ‘dreaded swimsuit season’ is coming up, and that means people are going to be obsessing about food and exercise and losing calories. First of all, I’m not a medical professional nor a nutritionist nor a physical therapist etc, so definitely consult with the appropriate personnel...but I cannot stress strongly enough, you must consult with non-fatphobic medical personnel.

Fatphobia kills people of all bodyweights, and this blog does not support fatphobia, especially medical fatphobia.

Now, with that said...if you want to be healthy, there are plenty of non-fatphobic things you can do about it. And the biggest things you need to know about how to go about it are: understanding your metabolism, understanding how muscles can affect your metabolism, and understanding how diet (foods, not fatphobia industry) can affect your metabolism.

Given all the fat-shaming bullshit thrown about in the so-called “Health Industry,” it sounds counterintuitive, but you actually need to eat more in order to lose weight. You need to teach your body that it’s not in starvation mode anymore, that it has plenty of calories and nutrients...and just start moving more. Not necessarily exercising more, but moving more.

2,000-2,500 calories a day is the range for a “normal” body-weight-and-size person. However, the more exercise you do, the more muscles you have, or simply the bigger a person you are (the more cells you have), the more calories you need. Unless you’re seriously short & skinny, a 1,500 calorie meal is a starvation meal, and that will put your body into “OMFG SAVE ALL THE CALORIES AS FAT!!” mode.

Literally, a toddler’s caloric needs are 1,100, and they range from 20-35 pounds. You’re several times that much. This doesn’t mean that if you weigh 175 pounds that you need to eat at least 5 times as many calories, however! In truth, you only need about double that, because a toddler’s metabolism is geared toward growing, whereas an adult’s metabolism is geared toward maintaining.

The best way to understand this is to realize your metabolism can be divided into 4 categories.

Your Resting Metabolic Rate is simply the amount of calories needed to keep you breathing, your blood pumping, your organs functioning. That’s 60%-75% of your caloric intake. You have your Thermic Effect of Food, which is another 10%, literally the energy it takes to chew and swallow and digest food & drinks, and then to excrete the leftover bathroom waste. The remaining two types of calorie burning are Non-Exercise Activity Thermogensis, and Activity Thermogenesis. Of those lattermost two, your body actually burns more of the Non-Exercise calories than the Active Exercise calories...and it is designed to burn more when simply moving.

Literally, just moving a bit more than you usually do in a typical day will burn calories effectively. Move around the house on every commercial break, stand up and sit down more often, change your position more frequently, raise and lower your arms, gently swing or kick your legs...just move more. When they say 30 minutes of (gentle) exercise a day, this is exactly what they are talking about. You don’t need weights, you don’t need machinery, you don’t need a gym membership. Just move. It’ll be a gradual process, but so long as you’re eating foods with plenty of fiber as well as other food types, you’ll feel full and won’t feel starved.

Now, if you want to burn calories even faster through vigorous exercise, you can do that, too...but again you need to use your metabolism. Make sure you’re not starving, because your body will go into a panic attack thinking you’re not only starving but are being chased by bears and will need plenty of fat to survive while you’re unable to gather food, etc because zomg you’re being chased by bears!!1! (Truly, the metabolism is a primitive/primal minded thing based upon hundreds of thousands of years of hunter-gatherer lifestyles, and does not comprehend modern life at all.)

And then, what do you do to burn more calories? You build muscles. Muscles burn a lot of calories. Not just through using said muscles in excercise, but muscles will burn through calories even while simply resting. The more muscles you have, the more calories your body will burn.

How do you build muscles? Well, there are two types of muscles, which while it sounds cannibalistic, we’ll call white meat and dark meat, because it’s the easiest mnemonic to remember. White meat (think breast meat on a chicken) is designed for strong but brief actions...and men have more white meat muscles than females, though obviously they have both kinds. That brief sprint towards a prey animal, the thrust of a spear into its body, aaaand done.

Dark meat muscles are meant for lower-strength repetitive actions. Walking around reaching up or stooping down or digging while gathering plants, with no need to rush and plenty of opportunities to rest. Chasing after young children. Weaving baskets, scraping and tanning hides into furs and leathers, cooking...these are tasks that require little to moderate amounts of strength, but most important, repeated movements. Women tend to have more dark meat muscles than men, though obviously they have both kinds.

(The reasons why wild ducks, partridges, grouse, etc, all have dark meat breast muscles is because they use those muscles to fly long distances. Chickens evolved from jungle-floor hunt-and-peck birds that mostly flew only short distances to get away from predators by flying up to the nearest tree branches, so they literally just needed a burst of strong energy over a short period of time, hence white meat muscles.)

Which type is better? Both, ideally, because they are useful in a variety of different ways. Which is better for burning calories? Ideally both, but it doesn’t really matter. All you need to do is build muscles.

As for how to do that...you know how you feel when you exercise until you are sore? That’s what you need to do. This is where weights and machines and treadmills do come in handy, but still aren’t necessary, since you can lift and lower objects around your home, and get exercise bands or surgical tubing for resistance training, and go for longer walks, etc.

The object is to (gently!) push your body to the point where your muscles are sore. You can do this by lifting weights for a few repetitions near your limit (use a spotter & practice safe lifting skills!!), which is a white meat muscle activity, or you can use lesser weights or resistance machinery (surgical tubing counts), but just do it more, which is dark meat muscle activity.

You can also do the “step down” method of weight training or resistance training, by starting near your limit, going until your muscles burn, then resting a few minutes while gently shaking out, massaging, or relaxing the muscles in question to help move the lactic acid out of your muscle tissues, along with hydrating. Then you “step down” the amount of weight (say by 20%-30%) and doing another set of reps (repetition movements) until again it’s a struggle, then another few minutes of rest, hydration, etc, before stepping down again, doing some reps...and then again when it’s at the lightest you can for as long as you can, then rest that muscle group.

Regardless of which way you weight/resistance train, take a full 48 hours off. Or as close to 48 as you manage--weight train 3 times a week, and then take up to 72 hours (three days) off so your body can fully recover. You can still exercise, but do not use weights or resistance machinery/rubber bands, etc.

Let your muscles use that 48 hours to heal, and eat more protein sources to help your body build more muscle strength, along with a variety of nutrients to get the right kinds of micronutrients. Again, I must emphasize: Do not starve your body. It will go into fat-storage mode and will only barely repair your muscles, nevermind build them bigger.

The goal is to build more muscle tissue. if you are hungrier than usual, eat more. Your body will tell you what it needs if you listen, and there are plenty of charts out there with “if you are craving X,Y, or Z, then try eating healthier foods A,B,C, D, E, or F!” and they’re actually not inaccurate...but it is okay to have the “less healthy” foods in moderation, same as in everything you eat.

But seriously, up your protein intake, which is what your body needs to build bigger muscles. The average (again, your needs may be more) person needs about 4 ounces (115 grams) of protein per meal, so you can shoot for more than that. And get your proteins from a variety of sources. Humans can manufacture a good number of amino acids (the building blocks of proteins), but we cannot synthesize 9 of them, the “9 essential amino acids.”

These 9 essential amino acids are: histidine, isoleucine, leucine, lysine, methionine, phenylalanine, threonine, tryptophan, and valine. Foods that contain all nine essential acids are called complete proteins. These include eggs, fish, beef, pork, poultry, and whole sources of soy (tofu, edamame, tempeh, and miso).

While plant proteins have lower essential amino acid contents when compared to animal proteins, they will also have different ratios of the various amio acids compared to most animal-based proteins. This is something that vegetarians and vegans need to keep in mind.

Some plant-based foods can be combined together to complement and/or supplement. “Rice & beans” is one such combination. Basically, you combine a grain (in this case rice) with a pulse (legumes, like beans, or peas, etc). Here in America, in Mexican restaurants, a serving of refried beans and Spanish rice (seasoned with tomatoes & spices) is often automatically included as a side for most dishes. This provides a great deal of carbohydrates, but it also provides a more or less “complete protein” set of those essential amino acids.

Corn, beans, and squash plants do the same thing, providing a complete protein when combined together, as well as plenty of carbs. These three plant types are the “Three Sisters” of indigenous North Americans. They are best when planted together, the corn providing a trellis for the beans to grow upon, the squashes spreading out across the field to smother competing weeds, and together they feed people reasonably well.

However, they are still more carb-heavy than protein-heavy, which means vegetarians need to rely upon other sources such as nuts, plus eggs, dairy, and/or fish (if pisco-lacto-ovarian vegetarians). Vegans in particular need to be extra careful. Yes, peanuts have a lot of proteins compared to their carbs, same with almonds, etc, so definitely add nuts to your diets! But just be aware that you’re going to need to be a lot more conscious of your protein types & sources--and make sure to get a variety of sources--if you’re trying to build muscles while on a vegetarian or especially on a vegan diet. A purely plant-based diet will not have nearly as balanced a set of amino acids as what animal-inclusive diets can contain.

If you’re lacto-ovarian, this is made easier because milk, cheese, and eggs are wonderful foods with a lot of nutritional value. If you eat fish as well, even better, full proteins in fish as well as in egg whites, etc...but that brings me to another caveat, because you should probably eat the egg yolks as well as the egg whites.

Do not skip out on fats. Unless you have a genuine doctor-ordered medical reason, do not cut all fats out of your diet. Your brain needs fats in order to function. And just as with amino acids in various protein sources, there are different types of fats as well that our bodies need in different amounts for different reasons. This isn’t to say you should chow down on the equivalent of a full stick of butter (1/2 cup, 65 grams) with each meal (unless you’re camping outdoors in winter in the far north or a mountain, because then you need fat in your diet for your body to literally burn to help keep you warm).

It’s just that you don’t want to go completely fat free...because if you do, your metabolism will go into panic mode in its primitive/primal-minded way, “ZOMG IT’S LATE WINTER/EARLY SPRING AND NOTHING HAS ANY FATS IN IT WE’RE ALL GONNA STAAAAAARRRVEEE!!” Your metabolism will start turning carbs and even proteins into fats in an effort to ensure your brain (along with other vital organs) will have enough fats to keep functioning. So go ahead and put some butter on your toast. Even better, put some nutbutter on your toast, since sunflower butter, peanut butter, almond butter, all those things have proteins and fats as well as carbs.

Also, your body actually does need cholesterol to function, but only in smaller amounts than you’d think. HOWEVER, if it doesn’t get enough of the right types of cholesterol through diet, your body will make its own cholesterol, and will make more than you need, out of carbohydrates. (Yeah, this one was a shocker to me when I learned about it, and the answer blew my mind. Seriously, our body will make up to 10x as much cholesterol as we need if we don’t eat it, so it’s best if we do eat it.)

So how much does an average person need to consume of these critical cholesterols that it absolutely needs? ...About 1-2 egg yolks a day (or comparable alternative sources; vegans, do some research on alternatives, or just accept that your body may try to overproduce certain cholesterols if it’s feeling nutrition-starved). Seriously. Just that much is enough. (Again, your needs may vary based on your body size, metabolic rate, and/or environment.)

So. Put it all together, and you have: 1. Eat a variety of foods in sufficient quantities and qualities (fats and proteins included) to ensure your body stays healthy; 2. exercise just enough to push your muscles into feeling sore; 3. Rest 48 hours while eating a bit more protein to help your body repair and build bigger muscles; 4. Lather-rinse-repeat... and you’ll eventually get bigger muscles that burn more calories simply by existing, as well as whenever you use them to move just a bit more than you normally would.

Dark meat muscles burn more calories when at rest because they’re designed that way, because they’re small effort but frequent use with multiple short rests, lots of blood flowing through them, and thus are more metabolically “charged” than white meat muscles. However, white meat muscles tend to be the largest muscles, and thus while not designed to burn calories as efficiently while at rest compared to dark meat muscles...they actually end up burning about the same through sheer volume.

Work on improving your muscles, move a bit more every day, eat more conscientously but not through the heavily warped fearmongering lens of the Diet Industry’s blather and/or tactics, and you will be healthy enough to go to the beach and enjoy it. Not because you’ll have lost weight, but because you will be healthier. (Fun fact: muscles are denser and heavier than fat, so you could literally lose inches while gaining pounds from your body burning the fat with its now increased muscle mass.)

And yes, you can weigh 260 pounds and still be healthier than someone who weighs 160.

In other words, if you have a body, and you go to the beach with it, you now have a beach body.

You’ll just be less likely to get out of breath while swimming or building sand castles or playing volleyball or whatever if you’ve upped your exercise levels between now and then.

Also: CONTINUE TO WEAR A MASK IN PUBLIC.

Get one that matches your swimwear, or makes you feel silly & fun. Even if everyone started wearing their masks (not going to happen, but one can dream), it will to take us all of 2021 to quell the pandemic...and because people won’t be wearing their masks, keep wearing that mask. Yes, even if you have had all your shots. Because people aren’t wearing masks, the virus is able to spread, and when it spreads, there’s always a chance it will mutate, and cause new strains of infections...which it already has. So wear your damn mask.

#discussion of diet & exercise #death to the bullshit diet industry #nutrition is important to understand but doesn't have to be synonymous with the pejorative word diet #again I'm not a pro at this but I have studied nutrition exercise and metabolism on and off for decades

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