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papermoonloveslucy · 1 year

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LUCY IN THE METAVERSE!

Lucy on Lucille / Lucille on Lucy

Lucille Ball created the Lucy character to live in a real world; a world also populated by movies stars, one of whom was film and radio performer Lucille Ball! On rare occassion, the Lucy character dared to acknowledge the existence of her famous portrayer giving viewers a rare visit to the metaverse. Lucille believed that comedy was better if it stayed close to the truth. Her sitcoms are full of references to her own life and the lives of those around her - but that’s not enough to be Meta! Here are some moments that transcend mere references and become self-referential!

In 1946, Lucille Ball (the actress) met Lucille Ball (the filly), courtesy of jockey Johnny Longden. This meeting no doubt influenced Longden’s playing himself in “Lucy and The Loving Cup” (1957).

~ META MAGAZINES ~

Lucille Ball was on the cover of a local edition of TV Guide (January 25, 1952), which was casually left on the coffee table during “Breaking the Lease” (1952).

In “Ricky’s Life Story” (1953), the photo of Lucy ("That's a fine picture of my left arm!") holding Little Ricky, may actually be of Lucille Ball because the monogram on the blouse are the initials 'LB' - although it could be 'LR' as the lower part of the 'B' is blocked by the baby!. It could also be another person wearing Lucy’s blouse. Very meta!

When Look turned up in “Lucy Gets Ricky on the Radio” (1952), the June 3, 1952, issue actually had Lucille Ball on the cover!

Look was part of a 1952 flashback intro during Lucy’s pregnancy. Vivian Vance has her hand over Ball’s photo. Inside is an article by Desi Arnaz about his wife.

Another ‘meta’ magazine appearance was in “Ricky Has Labor Pains” (1953) where a pregnant Lucy is reading the January 1953 McCall's (January 1953), which clearly has a cover that say “Why I Love Lucy” by Desi Arnaz!

~ META COSTUMES ~

Desi Arnaz was such a golf nut that he built a second home on the 17th fairway of the Thunderbird Golf Club in Rancho Mirage, California. Ricky Ricardo (an East Coast golfer) wore the Thunderbird insignia on his cap in “The Golf Game” (1954). Desi ad-libs a verbal mention of the club at the start of “The Charm School” (S3;E15) earlier in 1954.

RICKY: “You know, the whole membership of the Thunderbird Club was around the 18th hole. All I had to do was make this measly two-foot putt to win, and I missed it!”

In “Lucy and Aladdin’s Lamp” (1971), Lucy Ricardo’s trademark blue polka dot dress turns up at Lucy Carter’s garage sale! The dress is a visual Easter Egg but is never talked about.

~ META MUSIC ~

For “Lucy’s Last Birthday” (1953), Ricky’s birthday present to Lucy is a song called “I Love Lucy.” In reality, viewers had been listening to the Eliot Daniel theme song for nearly two years, but the previously unheard lyrics by Harold Adamson were new.

In “Job Switching” (1952), nine weeks before it was announced that Lucy Ricardo would have a baby, Ricky is heard idly whistling “There’s A Brand New Baby in Our House,” a song that Desi Arnaz wrote several years earlier for the birth of his daughter. When Ethel asks Ricky if he wrote the song, he replies that he wrote it for Lucy. But since Lucie and Lucy are pronounced the same, Desi may be talking about his daughter!

A few weeks later, in “Sales Resistance” (1953), Ricky sings the song in full, recording it on a reel to reel tape recorder in his living room. Coincidentally, the song was released on the B side of the “I Love Lucy” theme song.

~ META CASTING ~

In “Don Juan is Shelved” (1955) Lucy thinks real-life Hollywood producer Dore Schary is an out-of-work actor so she hires him to pretend to be... Dore Schary! Schary was supposed to play himself in the episode, but backed out at the last minute and the role was recast with Phil Ober, marring the mega meta nature of the episode. An added layer of meta was added by casting Ober, who was married to Vivian Vance and was - at times - an “out-of-work actor.”

Frank Nelson memorably played the exasperated train conductor dealing with Lucy Ricardo in “The Great Train Robbery” (1955), then reprised the role to deal with Lucy Carmichael when “Lucy Visits the White House” (1963). Since the conductor was never given a character name - it is possible he exists in both metaverses!

William Frawley made his last scripted television appearance in “Lucy and the Countess Have a Horse Guest” (1965) as a horse trainer. When he is out of earshot, Lucy Carmichael turns the Countess (Ann Sothern) and says:

LUCY: “You know, he reminds me of someone I used to know.”

Frawley spent nine years playing Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy.”

“Lucy The Gun Moll” (1966) is essentially a parody of Desilu’s crime drama “The Untouchables.” The meta madness is that the original actors (Robert Stack, Bruce Gordon, Steve London, and Walter Winchell) were cast, but the character names were changed to protect the innocent! Lucy, as chanteuse Rusty Martin, even mentions the series title to pound the satire home.

At the end of “Lucy Visits Jack Benny” (1974), the world’s most famous bus driver Ralph Kramden makes a wordless appearance. Jackie Gleason played the character on his variety show and the sitcom “The Honeymooners”, airing simultaneously with “I Love Lucy.” Ball and Gleason collaborated on several specials. The meta world that contains Lucy Carter, Ralph also exists!

~ META REAL ESTATE ~

In “The Tour” (1956), the Beverly Hills home of Richard Widmark actually is the home of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. A second unit film crew was sent to Roxbury Drive residence to film establishing shots of Lucy and Ethel walking up to the home. The actors, however, are not Lucille Ball and Vivian Vance, but identically dressed doubles!

When “Lucy Sues Mooney” (1967) with the help of her wily lawyer Wally Wiley (Jack Carter), she gives her address as 780 Gower Street. This was the address of the Desilu Studios Production Offices. An extra layer of meta is added because Carter was best man at Ball’s wedding to Gary Morton. Lucy Carmichael also gives this as her address in “Lucy The Babysitter” (1967).

~ META MENTIONS ~

In “Baby Pictures” (1953) Charlie Appleby tries to impress the Ricardos about his TV station’s catalog of films:

CHARLIE: “We’ve got the newest moving pictures in town. I bought a block of films yesterday, and I want to tell you that they’re going to make television stars out of some of the actors. Now, just remember their names: Conway Tearle and Mabel Normand.”

Conway Tearle’s career bounced between Broadway and Hollywood. One of his last starring roles was in Hey Diddle Diddle, a play that premiered in 1937 featuring a 26 year-old Lucille Ball. The play was scheduled to open on Broadway, but closed after one week in Washington DC due to Tearle’s declining health. Had it succeeded, Ball’s career trajectory might have been very different!

In 1967, TV producer and director Sheldon Leonard (who actually worked at Desilu), arranged to film a bank robbery at Mr. Mooney’s bank - but keeps it a secret from Lucy, naturally. The end of the episode turns very meta when Leonard says:

“I suddenly got this idea for a new television series. It would be about this kooky red headed girl. She works in a bank and she gets into all sorts of impossible situations and… ...forget it. Nobody would ever believe it!”

A guest appearance by Van Johnson in “Guess Who Owes Lucy $23.50?” (1968) is used as an opportunity to promote their recently released film Yours Mine and Ours, where Lucy plays the wife of Henry Fonda and Johnson their best friend.

VAN JOHNSON: “I loved working with that kooky redhead.” LUCY CARTER: “Personally, I thought she was much too young for Henry Fonda.”

During Lucille Ball’s third appearance on “The Carol Burnett Show” (1969) two flight attendants Finster (Carol) and Agnes (Lucille Ball) compete for a best employee award. They encounter a suspicious passenger (Harvey Korman) with a Fidel Castro-like beard, cigars tucked in his breast pocket, and a Spanish accent.

HOOPER (Lucy):“Where are you from, sir? Havana?” PASSENGER (Korman): (alarmed) “Havana? What makes you think I’m from Havana?” HOOPER (Lucy):“Well, if it’s one thing I know, it’s a Cuban accent.”

This meta moment relies on the audience knowing that Lucille Ball had been married to Desi Arnaz, a Cuban immigrant, as was his sitcom spouse, Ricky Ricardo. In the late 1960′s hijacking planes to Cuba was headline news ripe for satire.

When “Lucy Competes With Carol Burnett” (1970), she dresses like a charwoman identical to the one created by Burnett for “The Carol Burnett Show.” When Carol Krausmeyer (disguised as a hippie reporter) asks how Lucy Carter thought up such a crazy outfit.

LUCY: “From some goofy dame on TV.” CAROL: “Well, she must be some kind of nut!”

~ THE DESILU METAVERSE ~

Lucy Ricardo met Danny Williams (Danny Thomas) on a cross-over episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”;

Danny Williams drives through Mayberry and meets Sheriff Andy Taylor, which spawns “The Andy Griffith Show”;

“The Andy Griffith Show” is where the Gomer Pyle (Jim Nabors) character began before getting his own show. “Gomer Pyle USMC”;

Gomer Pyle turns up on “The Lucy Show,” although here she is Lucy Carmichael, not Lucy Ricardo (even though both women share the maiden name McGillacuddy).

The outcome is that Lucy Ricardo and Lucy Carmichael exist in the same (TV) Metaverse!

~ METAGRAPHS ~

In “Lucy The Gun Moll” (1966) Rusty Martin’s (aka Lucy) dressing room is decorated with black and white photographs of Lucille Ball performing. Behind Robert Stack is a photo of Ball singing “Jitterbug Bite” in the 1940 film Dance, Girl, Dance. She met Desi Arnaz while making this movie. It was filmed at RKO, the studio that became Desilu.

When Kim decorates her room with posters of classic film stars in “Lucy and the Andrews Sisters” (1969), Lucy Carter finds a poster of Lucille Ball! She looks at it thoughtfully, is about to put it on the wall, and then says “Meh” and puts it down.

When “Lucy Carter Meets Lucille Ball” (1974), the walls of Ball’s dressing room are covered with photos from the star’s real life, including one of her mother Dede.

The black and white photo next to the door is from “The Lucy Show” episode “Lucy and Chris’s New Year’s Eve Party” (1962) where Lucy Carmichael did a silent movie sketch as Charlie Chaplin. So Lucille Ball is playing Lucy Carmichael who is playing Charlie Chaplin!

In 1975′s Lucille Ball special with Dean Martin, “Lucy Gets Lucky”, Lucy Collins admires a photo of Lucille Ball while walking through the Las Vegas MGM Grand Hotel’s Hollywood Hall of Fame.

~ META MASTERPIECE ~

The ultimate visit to the Metaverse is the “Here’s Lucy” episode “Lucy Carter Meets Lucille Ball” (1974), in which Lucy, Kim, and Cynthia (Carole Cook) enter a Lucille Ball look-alike contest.

With the assistance of split screens and doubles (the best technology available at the time, Ball played both roles - and was even billed accordingly!

Lucy, Cynthia, and Kim both don caftans and dark wigs to emulate Ball’s look in her upcoming film Mame, although the film is never directly mentioned. Kim says that a lot of her friends think she looks like Lucille Ball.

LUCY: “That's ridiculous. She's old enough to be your mother!”

And the winner is...

...Lucy, naturally!

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

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A City Bathed in Blood and Moondust chapter 1 title & beginning preview

On Duty

Gotham was truly a beautiful city. The old gothic inspired architecture filled the streets with a sense of fantastical wonder, the signs and the city lights were always bright and vibrant, and when you looked past the absolutely skyrocketing crime, it was a rather close knit community. I'd had a unique childhood, going from a regular kid to an orphan and being adopted into a loving home in less than two years had given me the ability to see both sides of this city. The beautiful and the ugly were far more closely related than many thought.

It was most obvious when you walked in the less crowded parts of town, coincidentally places that I often found myself. This was, of course, through no fault of my own. It wasn’t like I could control where the rent was cheapest and where my job was closest. Crime never slept, it was constantly working in the background of everyday life and was something that most residents of the city just kind of grew accustomed to over the years. Though, most people in those cases, didn’t have to see it often so it was easier to forget. I didn’t exactly have that luxury anymore.

As I walked down the cracked sidewalk towards the diner I passed by at least three drug deals and an attempted mugging as well as just shady people walking through the streets. While I’d gotten used to the ugly side of things, having lived in it for so long after the deaths of my parents, it was still sad to see people driven to such desperate lengths. I knew there was little a waitress like me could really do to change things, but I still did what I could.

The rain started to really start pouring after I turned down the road and hurried inside the diner, shaking my jacket out in the doorway before smiling up at Maria. She sighed at the sight of me, relief clear in her eyes. “You walked again, didn’t you?”

“Maria,” I tried in a soothing tone as I moved around the counter to press a kiss to her cheek. “You know I don’t do cabs.”

Her rich brown eyes practically rolled into the back of her head as she slapped me with her rag and began cursing me in Italian. “One of these days you are going to find trouble being so careless.”

I pulled the apron over my head and smiled at her. “Maybe I like trouble.”

Carlos laughed from the kitchen. “If you liked trouble, you’d go to that boom boom place… that club…”

“The Iceburg lounge?” I asked as I leaned against the counter and jumped into restocking the napkin dispensers. “Hell no. I hear enough of that shit music from my apartment and it’s like two blocks down the road.”

“You don’t like trouble,” Carlos insisted.

“It’s bad for the skin,” Maria joined in, running her thumb across my cheek.

I batted her hands away and laughed at them. “Don’t you two have places to be? I thought tonight was date night.”

Maria grumbled as she refilled a customer's coffee. “We’re waiting on Ray.”

“The new guy?”

“He won’t be new for long if he keeps coming in late!” Carlos shouted. “Every night this week! I try to train him and he doesn’t listen!”

I shrugged. “Hate to say I told you so buuuuttt-”

Maria pinched my arm. “None of that.”

"OW!" I shrieked playfully as I rubbed my arm. "I did warn you both that he seemed like the type."

Carlos shushed us both as Ray walked in the door and haphazardly shook out his hair. Though he was late by almost thirty minutes he still took his time walking to the back and getting ready to relieve Carlos. The couple gave him a few final words of advice as they started out the door. Carlos sighed at the boy's flippant attitude and gave me a look. "Keep an eye on him, Luna."

I gave him a salute. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Don't forget to lock up," Maria said.

"Get out of here you two! We've got this, right Ray?" He answered with a low grunt and I winced. Come on dude I'm trying to save your ass here! "See? Totally under control."

It took a few more minutes for them to leave, but it was worth it knowing they'd finally gotten a free night to themselves. Carlos and Maria worked day and night and weekends to keep their little diner up and running. They'd gone out on a limb hiring me, having the right name at my back certainly helped, and I was determined to make sure they'd never regret it.

My hands took hold of the plates the second the bell dinged and Ray weakly called, “Order up.”

Smiling as I set the plates down in front of the man at the counter I cleared my throat to get his attention and said, “Your pie and your coffee.”

“Thank you,” he replied quietly, not even really looking up from his notebook.

“No problem, let me know if there's anything else you need." I moved quickly to the next customer and the one after that, keeping up the fast pace and making sure every customer left satisfied until business finally slowed.

"God damn!" A voice called from the doorway as a man in blue wiped his shiny black shoes on the carpet. "It's really starting to come down out there!"

I smiled as my adopted brother took his cap off and made his way to sit in front of me. "You get my counter wet and I'll make you scrub it up."

Lucas laughed, running a hand through his slightly messed up black hair. "Cold blooded sis."

"How's your night going?" I asked, flicking his shiny nametag. "Officer Martinez."

"Hands off the new bling," he said, shining away the smudge with a napkin. "You gotta look good to patrol these streets."

"That a requirement now?" I teased. "Cause you might be out of a job soon if it is."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "That's just rude."

I moved, grabbing his usual order and sliding the latte toward him. "Your usual."

"Thanks, Lu."

"How are things tonight?" I asked, leaning against the counter.

"How they always are." He said, taking a sip of his drink and using the mug to warm his hands.

"So awful?"

He shrugged. "I mean it can always be worse."

"Well, I hope you have a relatively not shit night then."

He laughed and nodded. "Nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Yeah, well what are sisters for?" I teased.

Lucas' radio echoed statically in his ear and he jumped to his feet, chugging the rest of his latte with a wince. "Duty calls!"

"Mustache!" I warned pointing to the thin line of foam.

He wiped it quickly and then paused. "Did you walk tonight?"

"Yep."

"God damn it Lu!" He whined and then sighed. "Well, call me when you get off and I'll give you a lift."

I tilted my head. "Aren't you on call all night?"

Lucas put his cap back on. "Yeah, but even if I'm busy I can send a car. Carl would be happy to drive you home, so would Dan."

"Stop trying to set me up with your cop buddies!" I scolded. "I'll be fine walking home on my own."

"Lu, please? For me?" His big brown eyes sparkled as he dipped the corners of his lips down to beg.

With an eye roll and a laugh I finally nodded. "Fiiinneee! I'll call you later."

"Night Lu!"

"Night Lucas!" I called as I refilled the cup of the man at the counter.

Lucas Martinez, aka my big idiot brother, was one of the few people in the city I had. Our parents had moved upstate shortly after getting joined the Gotham PD. Crime was at an all time high and they'd finally saved up enough money to move somewhere a bit nicer, which was great for them, but left Lucas and I pretty much on our own.

At first it felt a bit too similar to being abandon, a feeling I'd gotten far too familiar with during my fairly short stay at the orphanage, but having Lucas helped. He encouraged regular family chats and everyone exchanged pictures, all in all we stayed close even after they moved. Obviously it was easier for Lucas and I to stay in touch, and ever since he got his fancy hat and pins nearly a year ago he'd started taking the protective big brother position a lot more seriously. Not that I blamed him, or thought it was weird, Gotham was still a very dangerous place.

When the bell chimed again three men, drenched in rain and decked out in familiar gang colors and accessories entered with quiet murmurs. I cursed under my breath, but swallowed my anxiety and approached their table with a polite smile. "What can I get you guys?"

They all looked at me with smirks and grins, eyes never once meeting mine. "We don't want nothing, sweetie. We're just waiting for a bit."

"Alright," I said, gripping my pencil slightly tighter. "Let me know if you change your minds."

I returned behind the counter just as Ray left the kitchen and sat down beside the group, greeting each of them with a firm handshake and hushed voices. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I watched them from the corner of my eye, pretending to wipe the counter down. The second they all stood up my heart dropped. Of fucking course this would happen tonight.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tried to dial Lucas' number when Ray's hand covered mine and pulled the phone from my grasp. "Sorry, sweetheart, it's nothing personal."

The full chapter will be posted next Friday! 😁 This week I'll be focusing on the 2 mini-series from request week! 🥰

#battinson x oc #batman 2022 #batman x oc #a city bathed in blood and moon dust #battinson fanfiction #battinson #the batman 2022 #the batman martinez #the batman fanfic #the batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne fanfiction #original character #martinez #officer martinez #the riddler #luna Martinez

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britt-thats-it · 11 months

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Being back on tumblr is so nice. It’s like I never left (except I can’t remember everyone I used to follow/they probs left too).

(feelsies under the cut)

I only left because this couple I almost dated (who took my not dating them very hard) sort of cyber stalked me here. I kept making new accounts and they kept finding them and showing them to everyone in the scene we were all part of and following all the people I was mutuals with and it was… not cool.

Anyway, I’ve been really struggling with grief since quarantine. I had a huge falling out with my sister who I had been living with for the last 4 years. Her lack of recovery was badly interfering with my recovery and I was so deeply triggered by her behavior that I was barely functioning. I was in a constant state of flared up, in so much pain every day, even laying down was uncomfortable. I wasn’t able to eat bc my reflux was going crazy, I was starting to drink too much (something I hadn’t struggled with in years), I wasn’t sleeping. The pressure of being home together all the time took its toll.

Coincidentally, divine timing being what it is, my partner and I were spending hours on the phone every day. Just falling so in love. We’d already been together for almost a year, but her two other relationships falling apart, career change, and my chronic illness and not remembering how to be in a relationship (lol— it had been a LONG time and I was fully down to spend the rest of my life alone) kept us at a bit of a distance. We had been very close friends for a couple years beforehand, so when we took things to a romantic level, the feelings progressed quickly but we just didn’t have much time for each other. Anyway, she invited me to come stay with her. I was only planning on 2 weeks, but I literally never left. Everything just felt so easy and sweet. We handle each other with such care. Over the last 3 years my life has become a kind of stable that I’ve never (I mean NEVER) experienced. I love it and I am so grateful for it.

But I remember from my trauma-filled childhood, the survival mode of the present puts off the feelings for later. It isn’t until you have a calm moment that the feelings about what you just went through hit you.

The last 7 years hit me like an 18 wheeler. Going no contact with my family, living on the road, losing my job and being homeless, moving to nyc on a wing and a prayer, living with my sister and reliving A lot of my childhood through her behaviors, struggling through the capitalist ass New York art scene as an autistic person while also being very poor, working my fucking ass off, *just* about to hit my stride and do this fuckin career thang and boom. Covid.

I made an album, collaborated on a friend’s album, started my podcast and wrote a book. I’m in the middle of making another album. All this while feeling myself really trust someone, really learn what partnership means, really feeling like an adult, but also feeling so so wounded. The grief has been the heaviest thing I’ve ever felt. I lost myself a little bit. Insert bloody goopy chrysalis metaphor here.

I did all this but not joyfully, not really. Something was missing.

I have been trying, in the last few months, to unironically find my bliss again. I lost my sparkle, I lost my drive. I really feel like I experienced my own metaphorical death. I was anxious and raw, I second-guessed every interaction because I felt like I didn’t know how to be a person. I was completely sober!! Just fucking raw dogging life!!! I was scared all the time. I forgot my passions, I forgot my purpose. I still worked on stuff, I still created (a lot that I’m proud of!!) but idk I just wasn’t the same free-spirited confident lil powerhouse I came to know myself to be.

I think I gave too much on other social media. I think I was too vulnerable and too available and it got me into trouble. I think I confused work for life and I soured my own creation process for me. It became too important. Every hobby, every passion became kindling for money making or making “it” or whatever. I forgot how to have fun. I burnt myself out.

I recently started remembering hobbies I had that I never shared with anyone irl. Exercise/weight lifting, which I picked back up again in February, slowly testing the waters to see if my disordered relationship to it would return, it didn’t. Feeling myself getting stronger being exactly what I needed (literally and metaphorically) and all the good stuff that does to my confidence. Playing music just for fun, just sitting down with an instrument and playing 😫 locking myself in a room and flitting around like a mad scientist creating something I love 😫 dancing 😫 meditation 😫 journaling 😫 pulling tarot cards just for me 😫 and finally, longing for connection of some sort; for actual vulnerability and not people just fucking marketing themselves all the time— I remembered how much tumblr helped me. How much it inspired me. How it helped me become the person who made all those scary changes, who learned who I am and learned how to walk away. So much good came from that decade I spent here, so I decided to come back.

It’s exactly what I needed.

#I am finding myself again #life is just a spiral #here we go round again #personal #feelsies

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saturdaysoundtrack · 1 year

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Author Deborah (Marbury) McDaniel Year 2022 in Review

January

I have had a great year. I started the year continuing my year as a high school English teacher at Cleveland Central Catholic High School. Kel Shabazz, my colleague, and I were in the midst of planning for a Black History Month celebration. It was the first at CCC, and my first since 2017, I believe. After leaving Warrensville Heights High School in June 2015 to embark on a career in real estate and to work on my writing career, my finances had suffered greatly. However, I had recently completed the purchase of the properties that I owned with my sister in October 2021, and I was in the midst of my second year at CCC. I felt like things were going well, especially since I’d been given the opportunity to plan the Black History Celebration.

February

On Friday, February 25, 2022, Kel and I launched the Black History Celebration, it was themed African American Poets. We paid tribute to Nikki Giovanni, Langston Hughes, and Common. We had a guest spoken-word poet, Tru Poetry, come to speak to the students and present a spoken-word poem. The students performed poetry, and the choir sang a few songs. We had a soul food luncheon catered by Frederick’s. Everyone seemed to enjoy it.

March

Things were starting to get a little sticky for me at CCC. The teachers I worked with didn’t seem to like me, and I had lost favor with the principal. The worst part about it was I didn’t really know why. I believe it was racially-motivated, but, of course, nothing I could prove. In the meantime, at home, I worked on preparing to sell a property I owned in Bedford Heights. I was hoping to sell it for about $65,000–a 2-bedroom townhouse condo.

April

Now, this was the month that things got bad. The principal at CCC, informed me that she would not be renewing my contract for the 2022-23 academic year. I was heart-broken. I had hoped to finish my career at CCC. However, a voice came to encourage me, and the Holy Spirit whispered, “Deborah, you know if God allowed this door to close, then He will open up another door.” So, I tried not to be discouraged. I chose to believe that this ending of my tenure at CCC was God’s plan and purpose for my life.

May

This turned out to be a pretty good month. I realized that once my job ended at CCC, I could file for unemployment, and I could sell my property and start flipping houses. And as God would have it, I finished the improvements on the Bedford Heights property, and on May 18th, I was ready to sell. I contacted my sister-in-law, Kristie Marbury, an agent with Howard Hanna. Unfortunately, the comps on the properties had dropped to the low $50s, so we planned to list the property at $52,900 instead of the mid $60s that I’d hoped. Nevertheless, that same day, she got an offer for $53,200 contingent upon inspection. The buyer inspected the property the next day and proceeded with the offer, and I accepted.

June

My school year ended at CCC, and I was patiently waiting for the sale of my property to close so that I could embark on my new career in flipping houses. I had started to look at foreclosed properties and upcoming auctions. The only problem was that I needed the money from the sale of my property to move forward. In the meantime, I applied for unemployment, and by the end of the month, I had started to collect.

July

Now, things were starting to move, my property closed on July 8th. However, I discovered that there was a $14,000 lien on the property for a credit card, and I owed $7000 in property taxes. So, I only cleared $25,000 to start a flipping business. I needed at least $40,000 or $50,000 in the sellers’ market to get started. I tried to purchase a property for about $20,000 in an auction, but other bidders drove the price up for more than I could afford, and I knew that I would probably experience only more of the same in future. Coincidentally, in order to meet the requirements for collecting unemployment, I had to apply to two (2) schools every week for a job, which I did. Furthermore, when I got beat out of the bid for the foreclosed property, the Dean of Students from CCC called to offer me an English teaching position at Villa Angela St. Joseph’s. Also, I applied at John F. Kennedy High School (my alma mater) as a part of my weekly requirement. Well, as fate would have it, the principal at Kennedy called me the next day after I submitted my resume to tell me that he wanted me to interview. To make a long story short, I was offered jobs at both VASJ and John F. Kennedy. Once I realized that my salary would be significantly more at my alma mater, I chose John F. Kennedy High School as my new place of employment. Additionally, my sorority, Zeta Phi Beta, held their national conference in Philadelphia, PA in July, and I attended to sell my novels. I sold about 100 copies, and I enjoyed seeing my sisters of Zeta Phi Beta.

August

I turned 59 on August 13th, and started thinking toward preparing for my 60th celebration in 2023. I started my new job at John F. Kennedy, and I decided to use the proceeds from the sale of my Bedford Heights property to purchase new windows and doors for one of my rental properties, and I bought new doors for my home. Unfortunately, I said good-bye to my former first lady, Sister Katie Eppinger. I discovered that she passed away after a battle with cancer, and I was able to attend her homegoing. She was a wonderful person, and I was saddened by her passing.

September

Nothing special happened this month, except I continued to bask in the blessing of my new position at John F. Kennedy. I was scheduled to teach Creative Writing, Drama/Theater Appreciation, and 11th grade English.

October

During this month, the Dean of Student Engagement asked me to plan a Christmas production for the school. So, I had a play that I had done at Warrensville Heights High School that I adapted for Kennedy. The name, A JFK Christmas Carol. The students seemed somewhat excited about it, and we started to rehearse for it.

November

I started the month by attending my first sorority meeting this year and since about 2016. I paid my local dues, and I got the information in order to get back active and financial with the sorority at the national, regional and state levels. We continued to rehearse for the play. However, the students were starting to flake out a bit, and I was getting worried, but I pressed on. Thanksgiving was okay. I cooked greens, mac and cheese, and my man deep-fried a turkey. I went to a birthday party on that Saturday of my good friend, Lisa Lynn. I grew up with her in the Village, and it was good to see her entire family. She has nine (9) siblings, and eight (8) of them were at her party.

December

December was okay. On December 7th, I celebrated my 38th Zetaversary with my sands, Felicia. We had dinner at the Outback. The Christmas production was on December 9th, and it went well despite two (2) students not showing up. I think everyone enjoyed it. Winter break started on Monday, December 19th. I am looking forward to 2023. I have big plans, and I am enjoying life. I owe all the glory to God!

2023 Plans

I would like to do a few things in the new year. First, I would like to complete ghostwriting projects for three (3) clients. I would like to launch my 4th novel, Love Thy Neighbor. I would also like to have a big celebration for my 60th birthday. Lastly, I would like to do some home improvements to my house including windows, floors, painting, and exterior improvements. So, may God bless me indeed and continue to enlarge my territory, and may He bless the readers of this update!

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vxvidlandmine · 2 years

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A couple of thoughts

I'm currently not in the mood to continue my little "Everlasting" project.

I'd like to write something about how I'm feeling, what's the latest and stuff. I don't think this will ever become an important piece of information, nor someone beside me will read it. I'll use the typewriter font as it's cool as fuck.

It's almost the end of the summer. My semester is going to start on October so I still have plenty of time to enjoy September. It's almost already decided I'll go out at least 3 or 4 times before the lessons start. Going out has acquired a new meaning to me. When all I could think about was playing my favourite game, I couldn't be bothered with taking the time to socialize. I'd get annoyed, people close to me would force me to and I'd force myself too, as I realized that I was on the right path to lose those few people I'd go out with. After losing the ability to enjoy playing, I was grieving and going out was worse than before. I could see the joy and the relief that a night out had on my friends, and I understood more than ever that something had to change. Eventually, things changed. I stopped going out completely. I'm talking Nov 2021-July 2022 type of thing. I have no recollection of ever going out during that timeframe. It's probably much larger but it's just an estimation here. I finished high school and started University. On the first year, I made some acquaintances and no friends. I didn't go out once, except for a couple of guys I used to go to high school with and who coincidentally moved to the same city as mine. Small world. Anyway. After finishing all my exams, I had lots of free time at hand. I was late for a summer job, it was too soon to study again and I wanted to take a break, so I started organizing small nights out. I'm talking 2-3 acquaintances, once a week, walking laps in the city centre. I felt alone, for the most part of my teen years I always did. But until I stepped into University, I wasn't alone. Those are two completely different things. I was 16 getting drunk on a saturday, wasting both saturday and sunday on homework and, you know, withering away at home. Sometimes I regret not having fun when I could. I had less to think about, and still I couldn't enjoy myself. This is what 80% of people my age think about, following up with "well, now I can do much more so that's better". More responsabilities, but more ways to "have fun" or relax, or whatever, you get it. I admit I get nostalgic, but I was damaged then, I'm damaged now and I'm trying to ""heal"" as well as possible. the double "" stands for ironic btw because I don't relate to all the heal talk, the inner child stuff and so on. That's all glorified auto conscience, discovered by 25year olds who went all their life without thinking a couple of seconds about their person and now realize what a tool they have in their skull. Enough about stupid people. Now, I'm trying to enjoy myself more. I know tough times are going to come, and I fear I'm not preparing that well. I don't want to have a breakdown now that things are going to get more difficult, as I barely handled my previous ones.

In order to prepare, I'm getting closer to the few people I know won't disappear in the following months, when summer will be over and everyone will have to get one their grind again. I will too, but I'm trying to get out of my comfort zone and make it so that it won't be awkward spending some time with other people.

When it comes to love and stuff, I haven't made much progress. I tried texting a girl I had a huge crush on, but she didn't reciprocate the excitement so she isn't into me. I went to the beach the other day with 5 other people. Among them, a ex-classmate who I always thought was cute almost made me blush. She has such a lovely face I'd never get tired to kiss her. And when she smiles, oh god, I feel like I'm melting. She has a perfect smile, and such a complexion that when she's slightly hot, or nervous, or happy, or tipsy she gets all read. On top of this, short straight hair and big dark eyes complete her face. Very cute, very cute. After that day, I tought about texting her, or organizing a night out with our group of friends. She's single, I am too, why can't I try? I can. But where am I getting at? TBH, all I want to do is spend some time together. Get to know each other, make out, and melt into each others' arms as we watch the sun set over the horizon.

I think I'm in love with the idea of having a loved one. I used to think having a SO to count on would be great to solve my problems. Then I realized I need to solve my problems first then get a SO in order for this to work. At last, I reached the conclusion that critical problems need to be addressed first, but minor stuff could be easily worked out with them. No one becomes perfect before dating lmao. As any other human being, I have needs, I want to feel affection towards someone and I'd like for it to be reciprocated. Family is a different thing, saying stuff like "Your parents love u, that's enough" makes no sense in this situation.

I'm tired, I want my obsessions to be over so that I can become a not-so-damaged 20 year old. I don't want to throw out the window 10 years of my life because of emotional baggage.

Lol this is too long no one's reading it I'm glad of this.

#vent blog #love stuff

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my-life-as-cj · 2 years

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My First Post

Hello all,

My name is Clarence McDonald III but most just call me CJ. This is my first blog post as I am new to blogging. I was born and raised in Fayetteville, Georgia to two wonderful Christ-loving parents. My mom was born and raised in Washington, DC and my dad was born in Tennessee but was raised in Georgia. They met through a mutual friend while my mom was on a trip to Florida and the rest was history. My dad went on to become a real estate agent as well as a flight attendant and my mom became a “Board certified anesthesiologist” as she would call it. They gave me wonderful opportunities and experiences in life that I will treasure forever. They loved to travel and they shared that love with my brother and me. Because of my mom’s job and because of my dad’s flight benefits, they have taken us all over the world from Dubai, to Paris, to Hawaii, and soon to Italy and Greece! I always thought that traveling would be a part of my career and I haven’t let go of that dream just yet. I want to visit every continent before the Lord calls me home. I’ve even considered backpacking through a few countries! I love to get out and see how different the rest of the world is compared to my small quiet church town. Whether its a city away or a couple continents away I love to travel and I appreciate the opportunities I have been given.

After I was born, my mom started working on-call for Emory. This presented a lot of challenges especially because of how young I was and the fact that my dad works 3 days a week, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, every week. Because of this, I spent quite a few of my early nights at my grandma’s house or my daycare teachers house. My daycare teacher taught out of her house so there were a lot of nights all the other kids would leave and I would be the only one who stayed. This was fine by me because my teacher, coincidentally named Ms. Angel, became like a second grandmother to me. She is actually still a family friend to this day! I loved being at Ms. Angel’s and she loved having me. So much so that she technically ‘over prepared’ me for kindergarten. By the time I was 4 years old and ready to start K4 at the local private Christian school, I was advanced enough to be placed in the K5 class. A few kids from that school still talk to me to this day and one of them is my best friend, however, whenever I tell people that I skipped K4, they look at me surprised like they’d never heard of it. The Christian schools around me offered K3-12 but this is not the standard in the rest of Georgia.

Christian school was quite the experience. The first school I went to closed down before I made it to the 4th grade and sadly most of the friends I made ended up leaving after 1st grade. I'm not sure what kind of problems they were having, but by the end of third grade we got word that they found rats in their ovens. So on to the next private school. When I first started at my new school I had no idea that half the kids from my old school had transferred there, so I already had a few friends! The dress code was more relaxed, the chapel services were fun, the food was good, and on Friday’s we got to wear jeans and the teachers gave out candy for good behavior. I loved my new school, but as time went on, the school had its own set of problems. From faculty and staffing leaving, to organizational problems and disagreements, to downright drama, the school today is a shell of its former self. While I was there however I made the best of it. I spent the rest of my education, 4th-12th grade, at this school and I learned and grew a lot. I made lifelong friends, and enemies, I experienced love and heartbreak, and I developed the groundwork for the man I am today.

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battinscn · 2 years

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HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS AS TWITCH STREAMERS

CHARACTERS: muggle! modern au! theodore/draco/cedric x f! reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: just me and my inability to write a fic without profanity

A/N: this is definitely a self indulgent headcanon to soothe my big q soul. anyway, i may start posting headcanons since they’re a much more casual type of imagine rather than a full fanfic

read cedric/ theodore/ draco fics here

return to the headcanon masterlist here

THEODORE

- he’s most definitely a clubs streamer

- and he’s the type to yell whenever he opens fifa packs on stream

- and he yells so loud

- god he yells so damn loud whenever he opens a stinky pack

- ‘FUCK’

- ‘SUCK YOUR MUM’

- ‘SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK FUCK’

- his vocabulary of profanities span the same five words

- *throws the controller on the floor*

- “hey babe? could you go on amazon and get me a new controller?”

- “i just got you a new one last week?”

- “…i broke it”

- you obviously roll your eyes at him but hesitantly open amazon on your browser, “ps5 or xbox?”

- “xbox please and thank you”

- sometimes he’d be streaming at 2 in the morning and you’d be trying to sleep

- theodore would be cheering from scoring a goal when he’d get a whatsapp message from you

Whatsapp now

baby: shut the fuck up or you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight

- theodore would apologise to his viewers and then lower his voice, not wanting to risk having to deal with the wrath of a sleep deprived you

- ‘shit, sorry boys, the mrs is trynna sleep, i’ve gots to end stream soon’

DRACO

- now i’m going to be different with this one, and make you the streamer instead

- you’re sitting in your pink secret lab gaming chair, courtesy of your boyfriend of course, and doing a ‘just chatting stream’

- your viewers knew about draco, you having mentioned your boyfriend numerous times before, but none of them have seen what he looks like

bf face reveal, when?

- you thanked the user for the bits and read the question aloud.

- “sorry lads, no can do. big bossman draco’s got a proper job unlike your girl here, so he can’t show his face. but he’s really handsome!!! i promise you!” you chuckled.

- coincidentally, draco knocked on your door and you warned him that you were streaming before he let himself in

- your desk was adjacent to the door so draco could walk-in without being seen

- you muted your mic and looked up at draco

- “made dinner. it’s your favourite”

- he placed the plate in front of you, his hand and arm in view of your camera

- “ooh, yummy, thank you,” you cheesed, taking his hand and kissing the back of it before draco left your room, closing the door behind him, and letting you get back to streaming

did you see his watch??? bossman draco’s got Ps bro

just googled his watch and can confirm it’s worth more than my year’s rent

- “hey, i told you lot bossman draco’s a proper job.” you winked at the camera.

- “anyway, look what he made me! it’s cod and rice, everybody say thank you bossman draco.”

- chat erupted in echoes of ‘thank you’s

- “i don’t know if draco will ever do a face reveal but if you look him up he defo has a linkedin or something. just don’t be odd about it if you do, thank you!”

- draco had always been supportive of your twitch career, being your number one fan ever since your first twitch stream

- when you were starting out, and had no more than 100 viewers per stream, you would let self doubt eat you alive and worry that twitch streaming was not for you

- but of course bossman draco would never let you feel any little than amazing about yourself

- and so he would gift you 500 subs for absolutely no reason because money was expendable for that blonde donny

- all in all, you were grateful for your ceo boyfriend

CEDRIC

- oh our little minecraft player

- “chat! it’s valentine’s day soon and i’m gonna build her a giant heart and asking her to be my valentine!”

- chat erupts in awhs and whatnots while cedric grins happily

- he spends hours, and i mean hours, on the build

- “chat, you can’t tell y/n okay? it’s a surprise”

- of course chat promises to not reveal the surprise

- cedric had even muted the words ‘valentine’ and ‘y/n’ on your twitter account just so that if anyone did tweet about it, you wouldn’t see it in your timeline

- “hey y/n? come on my stream today?” cedric asked while you were having breakfast

- ‘yea, of course. what’s the occasion?’

- ‘chat says they miss you’

- cedric settled into his set up and pulled you to sit on his lap, pressing a button on his stream deck to change his starting soon banner to his intro

- ‘hi!’

- you waved to the camera and greeted the fans

- ‘chat, tell y/n how pretty she looks today’

- ‘thank you for the compliments! but i think my jumper’s really helping my look’

- you stood up so the viewers could see cedric’s mercy that you were wearing

- ‘where did you get that lovely jumper from y/n?’

- ‘cedplayz.shop.com’

- cedric placed you back into his lap as he opens mincraft and enters his world

- he put his hands over your eyes and only let go when the entire heart could be seen

- ‘awh ced’

- you’d squeeze him tightly in a hug and tell him that you’d love to be his valentine

- safe to say chat had clipped that and it was the only thing on cedric stan twitter for whole week

join my taglist here!

theodore tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @one-direction-harry-potter1 @harryjamespotterswife @fairydxll @xangel76 @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi @bluetreecloud20 @momoewn @snigdha-14 @chicchanelcigs @milkiangl @bubs-world @arianamalf0y

draco tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @itzjennieofficial @xangel76 @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi @cevans98 @jmj-1312 @gwlvr @bluetreecloud20 @momoewn @snigdha-14 @alldaysdreamers @cheesytangerine @bubs-world @arianamalf0y @deepnachochild

cedric tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @eleventhboi @cevans98 @momoewn @snigdha-14 @cheesytangerine @bubs-world

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott hc #headcanon #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x reader #cedric headcanon #cedric diggory headcanon #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy hc #cedric diggory hc #theodore nott hc #draco hc #cedric hc #theodore nott headcanon

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levi-supreme · 2 years

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A - Z Headcanons of Mike Zacharias

Characters: Mike Zacharias feat. cameo appearances by Erwin, Levi, and Hange

Genre: Modern!au with tiny references to the snk canon if you can see it

Warnings: Some suggestive content

A/N: Happy Miche Zacharias Week 2021! Here's a special piece in conjunction with @michezachariasweek for my very precious friend Joey @axoxtxhxh!! I had previously written one for Levi, so I hope everyone enjoys this version for Mike. Some of the headcanons can also be found here!

A: Attention

Mike is very attentive towards things that he is interested in. Once he gets started, it is very hard for him to stop. However, when it comes to other mundane matters such as work, or chores, he finds himself getting distracted often, looking for breaks frequently.

During his years as a student, he would definitely be the student that sits at the back corner of the class, looking outside of the window, and occasionally even dozing off. However, if he gets called to answer questions, he is always able to do so.

B: Behaviour

Mike is sociable, friendly, and good at keeping up with conversations, however, he isn't really a chatterbox. He prefers to be the one listening and giving advice.

He is also very sensible and mature, acting as the voice of reason among his group of friends. He keeps calm even in stressful situations and is able to perform under pressure. However, he will have random occasional outbursts.

C: Career

As a people-person and a great listener, Mike would do well in jobs that revolve around close human interaction. He would do well as a counsellor, a social worker, or a translator.

Mike is also a sporty and active person, and he would enjoy working as a physical education teacher, a fitness instructor, or a swimming coach. He enjoys nurturing and teaching, and takes pride in sharing his knowledge with others.

D: Dating

Mike usually lets his lover plan their dates, but occasionally he would take the lead to plan dates too. Mike doesn't have a favourite dating spot or dating activity, he just follows whatever his lover planned.

Mike enjoys exploring new food joints and eateries, and also places where he can try new outdoor activities. If he found a new eatery, he would do extensive research about that place first, before telling his lover about it, and bringing them there for a lunch date.

E: Energy level

Mike is really easy-going, as such his mood is always calm and collected. He doesn't have random bursts of energy, but gets very excited when doing something he loves.

Mike has no preference for staying home, or going out. He enjoys the comfort of staying at home, and likewise loves going out to meet new people. However, if given the choice, he would prefer to be outdoors, basking under the sun.

F: Fashion

Mike would enjoy wearing plaid shirts, flannels, and long-sleeved jackets. His dressing is also very laid back and chill, choosing to wear loose-fitting shirts and trousers. He likes wearing sandals, boots, and loafers.

Mike also dresses really casually, and will coincidentally have a lot of green in his wardrobe. He does not have a fancy wardrobe, and has clothing that has been with him for many years. Mike would own a trenchcoat that he bought years ago, and it's his one and only favourite that he always wears.

G: Games

Mike would be a casual gamer, occasionally having game nights with Erwin and Levi. He would enjoy playing games like Counter Strike, DotA, Call of Duty, or Fortnite.

He also enjoys playing games like Outlast, Resident Evil, or The Last of Us. He is not fazed by jump scares, thrillers or suspense, but is fuelled by all these elements while playing.

On the other hand, Mike wound enjoy playing indie games like Minecraft, Stardew Alley, or Among Us when he needs to take a break from playing FPS games.

H: Hobbies

Mike loves the outdoors and nature! You can expect to find him waking up early on weekends to hike and catch the sunrise, go on fishing trips, camping trips, and road trips with his friends.

Also, I feel that Mike would enjoy doing puzzle games. Sudoku and crossword puzzles are just some of the things he enjoys. He enjoys playing trivia games too.

Lastly, Mike would enjoy doing hands-on activities, such as building his own things. He likes going to IKEA to buy furniture so that he can assemble his shelves and bookracks on his own. He would also enjoy reading up on cars and learning how to fix his own car. He also offers to do simple car maintenance for his close friends too.

I: Interior

I would imagine Mike's home to be very simple and comfy. His house doesn't have many things, just the necessary that every household needs. He doesn't have many decor items and keeps to the bare minimum. I would imagine Mike to have a few house plants as well.

His room would definitely be a little messy, but he still cleans his house regularly. Mike's room would have a large sofa bed, in front of his television, so that once he feels tired from playing games, he just lies down and can fall asleep.

J: Jealousy

In a relationship, I think Mike would be really easy-going, and he trusts his partner 100%. Therefore, he's not a jealous lover. However, he would be wary of those who want to get closer to his partner and will watch out for those who have other intentions.

He also isn't the type to do things to make his lover angry or jealous. If his lover dislikes him being around a certain colleague, he'll listen to them and avoid that colleague. If his lover wants to check his phone, he'll let them do it as well. Trust is extremely important to Mike, and he would never do anything that would break the trust his lover has for him.

K: Kinks

Mike has a size kink, and he cannot deny it. He loves the feeling of being taller and bigger-sized than his lover, and enjoys the feeling of towering over them with his height. It makes him have the urge to always want to protect his shorter and smaller lover.

On the contrary, Mike would also similarly get extremely aroused if his lover was the taller and bigger one. The tides have turned and he no longer is the 'bigger guy' anymore, and this excites him.

Mike also has a kink for handcuffs, blindfolds, and gags. He likes depriving his lover of their senses, and hearing them become a whiny mess, asking to be released from their restraints.

L: Love language

Mike shows love mainly with words of affirmation, followed closely by gifting. Next in line are quality time, acts of service, and lastly physical touch.

Mike isn't much of a talker, but he always cheers and supports his lover with his words: "That outfit looks amazing", "you're doing really good", "thank you, you're the best". Mike encourages and reassures his lover with his words and mean everything he says.

Mike also is the type to enjoy gifting his lover. He isn't the type to splurge, but the type to buy thoughtful gifts. He buys his lover flowers on random days or makes them a card during special occasions. He's also the type who enjoys making personalised gifts.

M: Marriage

Marriage life appeals to Mike, yet he is also fine without it. To Mike, being married is just a legal obligation, and with or without it, he still loves his lover the same.

If he were to propose, he would definitely get Erwin, Levi, and Hange to help him. Mike would probably end up doing something cheesy like arranging candles into a large heart shape, have a big banner saying 'WILL YOU MARRY ME?', and appear with no less than 99 roses in the bouquet. He would be really nervous, and Erwin had to write his 'proposal script' on placards.

N: Nicknames

Mike would love calling his lover any cute variants of their names, because it is unique. He loves calling his lover like that because it is special, and he loves seeing his lover become embarrassed whenever they hear Mike calling them that nickname.

Growing up, Mike was also on the receiving end of nicknames; probably 'nose', 'giant', or 'weirdo' to name a few. Mike doesn't mind people giving him nicknames, especially if they're his close friends.

O: Outbursts

Mike is usually mild-tempered, and keeps his cool. He's the type who tends to hold his anger, and releases them in short outbursts. He shouts a lot when he's angry, but once he cools down, he goes back to his usual self again.

Mike is generally a quiet person and doesn't talk too much, yet you know he's angry when he stays silent for too long. You also will know he's angry when he continually stares at someone, throwing daggers in their direction, but doesn't approach them.

P: Parenting style

Mike would be the dad who loves bonding and playing with his children. He allows them to get dirty; playing in the mud, catching bugs in the summer, rolling in piles of autumn leaves, digging for seashells at the beach.

Instead of scolding or punishing his children whenever they did something wrong, he would always talk to them and reason it out with them, making sure his children knows what they did wrong.

He'll be the fun dad who makes lame dad jokes to cheer his children up, and the thoughtful dad that all of his children's friends love.

Q: Quirks

Mike would wear earplugs and an eye mask to sleep because he prioritises sleep over everything. Sleeping is his favourite way to recharge, and he loves a good quality sleep.

Mike also enjoys listening to music, as such he spends quite a bit of money on audio equipment like speakers, amplifiers, and a sound bar for his TV.

He dislikes eating citrus fruits like oranges, grapefruits, or lemons because the acid stings his lips. However, if you offered him a glass of orange juice, Mike would accept it.

R: Romance

Mike isn't the most romantic guy out there, but he is definitely a very thoughtful lover. He is the type who remembers anniversaries and birthdays, so his lover never has to get angry over him forgetting special occasions. He enlists the help of Erwin and Levi to plan for special dates.

Mike also loves making his lover laugh, as such he loves doing things like singing them an exaggerated version of their favourite song by changing the lyrics, surprising them with a bouquet of flowers out of nowhere, or telling them corny jokes.

S: Sweets

Mike doesn't enjoy eating that many sweet treats because they give him a headache. However, he occasionally indulges in cakes, pies, tarts, and other baked goods. Some of his favourite desserts are fruit tarts, cream puffs, crepes, and a nice banana split.

He takes his coffee with just a pump or two of sugar. Mike loves tasting the robustness of the coffee beans, yet the bitterness irks him. His favourite type of coffee would be a latte.

T: Television

Mike's favourite genre of television would definitely be a comedy because he loves having a good laugh. <Brooklyn Nine-Nine> is his absolute favourite, with <How I Met Your Mother> being a close second.

Mike also enjoys watching animated sitcoms or cartoons like <Family Guy>, <Bob's Burgers> or even <Spongebob Squarepants>. He jokes that Levi is Squidward, Hange is Spongebob, he is Patrick, and Erwin is Mr Krabbs.

U: Unwind

Mike's favourite way of unwinding: SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP! His safe haven is his bed which is covered with comfortable quilts and multiple pillows. Mike recharges from sleeping and has to sleep eight hours a day.

Being a lover of nature, Mike also loves unwinding by being one with the outdoors. He'll go out for a run, go for a solo drive, or plan a hike. He always has his camping gear in his car boot, he's always ready for a trip.

V: Vacation

Mike's ideal travel destinations are places good for solo travelling, and lots of hiking; Taiwan, India, Spain, Greece, or New Zealand, just to name a few.

Although Mike dislikes the heat, he loves visiting countries that have a more tropical climate such as The Philippines, Thailand, Singapore, or Malaysia, just to name a few. Every year in April, you will definitely see Mike in Bangkok during Songkran, with Erwin, Levi, and Hange tagging along.

W: Weather

Mike loves the period where spring transitions into summer. It begins to get a little warmer, and the sun shines brighter. Although not a fan of the heat, Mike loves the sun.

Mike is also not a fan of the cold, as he can't spend his time outdoors since everywhere is covered in snow. He dislikes wearing multiple layers during winter, yet he loves playing in the snow. He loves having snowball fights with his friends and makes sure he hits them in the face all the time.

X: XOXO

Kisses with Mike are always fun and unexpected. Mike would leave tiny kisses around his lover's neck, cheeks, the back of their hand, the crown of their head. Mike loves to nuzzle his face in his lover's hair, he finds their natural scent the most comforting scent in the entire world.

Mike also loves giving hugs. The hugs from him are always super tight, the kind that leaves you breathless, and makes you crave more. He loves hugging his lover, slowly swaying them both on the spot.

Y: Yearning

Mike would definitely be sad if his lover had to leave for a period of time. He'll be the clingy type of lover who will insist on sending you to wherever you need to go, and he'll remind you to always tell him where you're at.

Mike will also be the type of lover who would have video calls almost daily with his lover. "What are you doing?" "Nothing much, just thinking of you". Even though they may not talk much over the video call, having each other's presence is more than sufficient.

Z: Zodiac

Born on 1 November, Mike is a Scorpio. Scorpios are often misunderstood due to their stoic nature, yet underneath that stern exterior is a heart that is loyal, brave, and honest.

Scorpios are one of the most loyal friends and partners that anyone can ask for. Even during adversity, Scorpios are determined and will do all they can to achieve their goals.

Tagging: @thehouseofmaple @ack3rlady @hashaneeee

Join the tag list!

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

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Succession Chapter 1 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fic

Here is chapter one of my new fanfic!

Title: Succession

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OCs

Rating: PG-13 for language and intense scenes (for now, this is a slow burn, but it will get very hot and spicy in later chapters)

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova that you didn’t know existed has died and you are his sole beneficiary. You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The music blasted from the car speakers as you drove down the main road towards the highway. You had your phone plugged into your car stereo, your favorite Spotify playlist on shuffle. Despite the A/C being on full blast, beads of sweat formed at your brow and rolled down your temple. You adjusted the vents on either side of you, making sure the cold air directly hit your body. The song that was playing had you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, your head bopping to the beat.

The fridge at home was close to empty and it was beyond time for you to go grocery shopping. The grocery list was secure in your purse and you were determined to stick to the items on the list and not make any frivolous purchases. Money was tight and you only had so much money left before payday next week.

The song shut off suddenly followed by your ringtone. Looking at the screen of your phone, UNKNOWN stared back at you. Probably a spam call, you thought to yourself, reaching to press the red Ignore button. Unfortunately, your finger slid at the last minute and mistakenly tapped the Accept button. You watched as the call came through and the seconds ticked off. FUCK!

“Hello?” you greeted with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

“Hello, am I speaking with Miss Y/N?” a heavily accented male voice responded.

“Yeah, this is she,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You tried your best to avoid these calls, ignoring them and letting them go straight to voicemail. Very rarely was it followed with an actual message, which was more than fine with you.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Ron M. Dathermi. I am a lawyer residing in Chisinau, Moldova in Eastern Europe…”

You raised your eyebrows at that. Moldova? Who the hell was calling you from Moldova? Chalking it up to a scam, you were about to interrupt the man when he continued.

“...I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your great uncle, Serghei Popa, has passed away from a short illness and has named you his sole beneficiary…”

You couldn’t help the amused huff that came out of your mouth. This must be some very elaborate scam.

“Umm...sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. I don’t have family from Moldova and I have never heard of this man in my whole life.” You were about to hit the End button when Mr. Dathermi continued.

“Am I speaking with Y/N, born on (your birthday) to (your father and mother’s full names) and the granddaughter of (your grandfather and grandmother on both sides of your family)?”

Your eyes widened at that. “Yeah, that’s me…” you answered.

“I know this may sound unusual, but Mr. Popa was the brother of your grandmother on your mother’s side. He was given up for adoption at birth and taken in by a Moldovan family. He did not have a spouse and had no children, and according to the genealogy report I have before me, your grandmother and your mother are both deceased. Your mother was an only child, yes? It appears to me that you are the last of his living relatives.”

You pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot. The information you were being given was a lot to handle. You didn’t have that large of a family. You were an only child and raised by your parents and both sets of grandparents. Both of your grandfathers had died before you turned 10. Both grandmothers died within 5 years of each other and your father and mother died of illnesses, cancer and pneumonia respectively, in the last year. Grief was a feeling that you knew better than anyone. You kept to yourself mostly and you didn’t have any close friends or a significant other.

“Listen,” you began, “you are correct about all of your information, but how do I know this is not some kind of scam?”

The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and the sound of shuffling papers met your ears. “I can imagine that this information is sudden and unusual. What I will do is send a copy of his will and a copy of the genealogy papers to your address. I encourage you to take this to your lawyer and have them look over the information. The reason I am calling is because I need you to fly to Moldova, sign these papers, and accept the monetary inheritance that he has left you.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked down at your phone. Fly to Moldova? Is this true? The only thing you knew about the country was that a foreign exchange student from high school was born and raised in Moldova. That about sums up your knowledge of the country. This seemed incredibly asinine and ridiculous. But the word that settled in your train of thought was “inheritance.” What inheritance?

“Mr...what was your name again?” you asked.

“Mr. Dathermi, but you can call me Ron,” the lawyer responded.

“Ron...umm, how much monetary inheritance are we talking about?”

More shuffling of papers was on the other side of the phone, Ron clicking his tongue as he looked through the information. “He has left you 53,806,746 Moldovan Leu...which translates to $3,000,000 in American currency.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” you exclaimed before clamping your lips shut. You heard Ron chuckle. “I’m sorry, pardon my language. It’s just...wow...this sounds insane…”

“I can imagine it does,” Ron replied, “which is why I want to mail this information to you and have your attorney take a look at it so you know this is a legitimate will and testament. If you would like, I can mail the information straight to your attorney if you are still leery.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you said, shaking your head. Your mind was whirling. None of this sounded remotely true. You felt as if you were dreaming. This felt like something that only happened in books and fairy tales...a girl who had nothing and nobody suddenly inheriting millions of dollars from an unknown distant relative. What are the odds of something like this happening in real life? You gave Ron Dathermi your home address.

“Thank you very much, Miss Y/N. I will send this as soon as possible. I’ll also include my business card so your attorney can contact me and we can iron out the details. Thank you very much, Y/N...I’ll be in touch.”

You thanked him as well and ended the call. All alone in your car in the empty parking lot, you let out an excited squeal and started hopping up and down.

You adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across your shoulder as you heard the overhead speaker call for the boarding of your flight. Taking a deep breath, you got in line, extended your ticket to the airport employee, and walked down the tarmac and into the plane.

Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. Your hands gripped your bag tightly as the flight attendant looked at your boarding pass and pointed down the aisle to where you were to be seated. You had never flown before and your nerves were on alert. Scenes from Final Destination flashed in your head as you walked down the aisle towards your seat. Taking a deep breath and willing your body to relax, you located your seat next to the window and sat down, plopping your bag onto your lap.

The small window was close to the wing of the plane and looking beyond that was a long expanse of grass that met a vast forest. You were thankful that you had the window seat and your headphones so you could tune everything out and relax in your own little world.

Once the papers from Mr. Dathermi arrived a week prior, you immediately called the attorney that helped you with the probate and will from your parents’ deaths several months back. He was more than happy to help, knowing that you were all alone in the world after your parents had passed. Two days later, he called to inform you that all of the paperwork was, in fact, legitimate and that Mr. Serghei Popa was the brother of your grandmother. He showed you the adoption papers, confirming that your great uncle had been put up for adoption and the family that took him in had relocated to Moldova when he was two years old. He had remained in the country until his death. Your attorney contacted Mr. Dathermi, who in turn secured a round trip plane ticket in order for you to come to Moldova to finalize the paperwork and collect the inheritance.

At the thought of the money you were about to acquire, another surge of excitement flowed through you. Your parents hadn’t left you much after their death and you worked at a dead-end job that had no room for advancement and no possibility for raises. All of these recent events sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

“This is your captain speaking,” the voice sounded from the speaker above your head, “we will be departing in the next ten minutes. Please make sure your seatbelts are secured, your tray tables are up, and all electronics are off until we are at the appropriate cruising altitude. I will inform everyone as soon as the coast is clear. Thank you for flying with us and enjoy the ride.”

You fastened your seatbelt and laid your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be nervous…” a voice sounded next to you. You opened your eyes and looked over to see an older gentleman with wide rimmed glasses and a nice smile.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, returning his smile.

“It’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled, “my name is Bruce Williams. I’m the air marshal on board this flight.” You told him your name and shook his hand. “Just relax,” he assured, “we’ll be flying for the next 10 hours. There are lots of movies and tv shows to watch on the screen in front of you, or you can listen to your music and read a book if you brought one.”

You patted your messenger bag. “Yeah, I have a few books to choose from. Thanks,” you smiled.

Within minutes, the plane had backed away from the tarmac, turned towards the long expanse of runway, and increased speed before leaving the ground and soaring up into the clouds.

The steady hum of the plane’s engines provided a relaxed soundtrack as you slept. It was close to early morning, according to the clock on the tv screen, but your watch was still on your regular time zone. It read early afternoon and that threw you through a loop. You had heard that jet lag could be a bitch and you wondered how bad yours would be once you landed. Bruce had passed you a pillow and blanket once you were ready to sleep and he assured you that your bag and belongings would be safe while you slept.

You were so thankful to be seated next to him. Not only was he the air marshal, but he was a really cool person as well. You two talked about movies and actually watched a couple of them on the tv screen in front of you. Bruce was kind and nice to talk to. The crinkle of crow’s feet around his eyes, his laugh, and his hair color mixed with hints of gray reminded you of your father...maybe that’s why you liked him so much.

You shifted in your seat and let out a soft yawn. Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you wondered how much longer it would be until you touched down in Moldova.

“You weren’t asleep that long,” Bruce murmured. You looked over to see a book in his hand and his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep,” you replied, standing from your seat. Bruce stood up and allowed you out into the aisle. You made your way to the bathroom towards the back of the plane. The cabin was dark with little lights dotting either side of the aisle on the floor. Soft lights were shining here and there from people reading, watching the tv screen, or messing with their phones while most of the passengers were asleep.

Once in the bathroom, you did your business, flushed the toilet, and began washing your hands. The mirror in front of you showed a tired and weary version of yourself. Some of your eye makeup was smudged. You told yourself once you returned back to your seat, you’d retrieve the makeup remover wipes in your bag and do away with the dirt and oil.

Just then the plane hit an air pocket and dropped several feet, throwing you forward towards the sink and mirror. You let out a shriek as the plane quieted and went still. “God dammit,” you muttered, putting your hand over your heart, “that scared the shit out of me!”

Once out of the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and walked back to your seat. You tapped Bruce on the shoulder and he moved aside.

You lifted the window shade and looked outside. Natural light from the start of the day began to show. The plane was amongst the clouds so it was fairly cloudy and hard to see.

“How much farther do we have?” you asked Bruce. He shifted the book to his left hand and looked down at his wristwatch. “We should be there in three hours. I think we are flying over Romania right now…”

You nodded your head and thanked him, turning back to the window. The clouds gave way momentarily and provided the opportunity to see the ground below. Tall, snowy mountains came into view. You smiled and marveled at their beauty, wondering what mountain range this was. You cursed yourself for forgetting the basics from your World Geography class in high school. Hell, all you knew about Romania was that it was the setting for Dracula and the real life territory that was once owned by Elizabeth Bathory, who allegedly killed upwards of 650 maidens and bathed in their blood. You shook your head and smiled to yourself. You really did enjoy some morbid and fucked up stories.

Your train of thought stopped short when a large and spacious castle came into view. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. It looked like something out of a Disney movie or from ancient castles that still sat throughout Europe. The place looked like it stood on several acres of land and who knows how many square feet. What a gorgeous and breathtaking place it was. You wondered just what was inside a monstrosity like that and who was lucky enough to inhabit such a place. Maybe there were castles in Moldova that you could explore and visit while you’re conducting your business.

The castle fell out of view and not far from it stood what looked like a village. You were too high up to see any people or any traces of lights or torches. You took everything in with total awe and appreciation. It looked like a small and sleepy storybook town.

A sudden movement close to the village caught your attention. You squinted your eyes and tried to look closer, pressing your forehead to the window. What the fuck is that, you wondered. It looked like a black tree, naked of leaves or any type of growth...and it was moving. It looked to be swaying in the breeze, but the size of it looked way too sturdy for any kind of gust to move it with such fluidity. As you focused on the tree, it appeared to be growing...getting closer to the plane. Was the plane descending? Were you getting closer to Moldova?

One of the branches of the tree slowly drifted to the ground before extending long and rigid, slinging itself up into the air like a bullwhip, hitting the wing of the plane. The plane suddenly tilted as the slithering limb wrapped around the wing and broke it off. You let out a loud scream as the plane turned on its side, Bruce falling against you, squishing you to the wall. “WHAT THE FUCK??” Bruce screamed as yelps, shrieks, and screams echoed in the cabin of the plane. Dozens of people were knocked from their seats, flight attendants falling into the aisle and rolling towards the cockpit. The plane shook and quaked as it dropped several feet in a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” you screamed, grabbing hold of Bruce’s arm. The air masks dropped from overhead and Bruce grabbed yours, making quick work of putting it over your face. “HOLD ON TO IT! HOLD IT OVER YOUR MOUTH, Y/N!!” he commanded, reaching for his own mask.

“THE WING OF THE PLANE HAS BEEN DAMAGED!” the pilot yelled from over the speakers, “WE ARE LOSING ALTITUDE! BRACE FOR IMPACT!” People screamed and panicked, holding on to whatever it was they could. Panic surged through your body as your fingers dug into Bruce’s arm. The plane shook as it fell. Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were seconds from impact. You looked out the window one last time before the ground came into view and everything went black.

He leaned over the body on the metal table in the lab of his factory. He fastened the bolts with a wrench and tested the strength of the metal against the rotting flesh. A soft horn sounded in the distance along with the various turns of chains and clangs of steel against steel. He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked to his desk, looking over the blueprints and sketches he had devised the previous day.

Despite the different array of sounds, nothing could mask the loud crash that sounded off in the distance. He lifted his head, silently trying to figure out what the fuck made that noise. Leaving the body laying on the table, he exited his lab and made his way down the stairs and to the factory doors.

With a grunt, he slid the doors aside and looked off into the distance. Black smoke billowed from an area that looked to be close to the village. Other than the crows squawking and flapping their wings in retreat, everything was dead quiet. He looked off to the right just in time to see the long, spindly limbs of mold retreating back towards the earth. Karl Heisenberg’s face tightened in a disgusted grimace.

“Mother Miranda...what have you done?”

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #daddy heisenberg #house heisenberg #heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter two rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Moving and finding an apartment can be an incredibly long and stressful process. Unless you’re you, and life likes to throw a lot of curve balls at you for the utter hell of it.

Your dad dropped dead three weeks after you told Andy you were moving to New York. Coincidentally, right in the middle of you trying to find a place to live. He drank himself to death. Figures. You doubted you’d ever had a conversation with him that he was sober enough to remember. His untimely demise was unfortunate for him, because he died or whatever, but very fortunate for you. As his only child, you got his apartment in Queens and all his smelly hoodies.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and Dani after a night out in the streets of San Francisco. You had originally moved there after high school to start your show, The L/n Report. San Francisco was known for its crimes against the homeless population and you wanted to start with a story on that. You ended up interviewing Andy at the police station while investigating a missing person, and dated him for two years. Now, you were spending your last few hours in San Francisco with the very boy you once loved and the very girl he now did.

“Are you all packed?” Dani asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Pretty much. I gotta put my toothbrush and hairbrush in my suitcase in the morning. Other than that, I’m good to go.” You answered her. She smiled fondly at you as she linked her arm through yours.

“Hey, I’m really gonna miss you. More than that guy over there.” You whispered, nodding towards Andy, who had his head buried in his phone. Dani laughed and nodded in agreement as you continued to walk.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’re my best friend here.” She sighed sadly.

“I’m glad we’re friends. Most women in our position would hate each other.” You thought out loud.

“Uh uh. You’re thinking of women in films. It’s 2021, baby. Women support women. You and I are two talented, smart, beautiful women who would never be caught fighting over some boy. Especially not one who can’t take his eyes off his phone for two seconds.” Dani said loudly and smacked Andy’s arm. You laughed at the domestic moment but couldn’t help feeling a pain in your heart knowing he used to be that way with you.

“What, sorry?” Andy looked up. You and Dani looked at him before looking at each other and laughing.

“What’s funny?” He asked, growing annoyed.

“We’re laughing at you babe. Put your phone away. It’s Y/N’s last night here.” Dani scolded playfully. Andy sighed and reluctantly put his phone in his pocket.

“Right, sorry. And it’s not her last night here. She’s coming back. You are coming back, right?” He asked you. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure.

“Of course I’ll be back.” You shrugged. “I just want to experience something new for a while. I’ve done a million pieces on homelessness and poverty. I want to see what fresh stories New York has to offer.”

“You’re quoting the Daily Bugle, aren’t you?” Dani teased you.

“That is verbatim what they said to me.” You admitted with a laugh. “But hey, it worked. As of tomorrow, I’m the Daily Bugle’s newest investigative reporter.”

“Who are you reporting on anyway?” Andy showed a rare interest in your work.

“Some guy named Cletus Kasady.” You answered. “He’s some hot shot serial killer down in Queens. No one knows how he’s hiding his victims bodies. Apparently none have ever been close to being found.”

“And they want you to write the story on him?” Andy raised an eyebrow, always with the condescending tone.

“Well they heard about the whole Carlton Drake situation and decided I hadn’t been through enough trauma in my career.” You replied, earning a laugh from Dani but not Andy. You and Andy had already broken up by the time Carlton Drake contracted a symbiote and tried to kill you and Venom. You stopped him before he could hurt anyone and wrote a career defining article on his lethal human experiments. You managed to leave out all information regarding symbiotes from the article, so your secret was still safe. You were a fairly well known reporter since the incident and your next job was waiting for you in New York.

In the morning, You and Venom got on a plane and made your way to New York. Being on a plane with Venom turned out to be the equivalent to traveling with a toddler. You tried to sleep, but every two seconds you had to stop Venom from getting into trouble. She kept trying to open the window, even after you explained to her that everyone on the plane would die horrible death if the window were to open.

“Stop that.” You whispered when you noticed a black tendril creeping towards the window. The lady in the seat next to you shot me a look of confusion. You gave her a fake smile and turned back to the window, doing your best to conceal the small black tendril that was coming out of your body and fidgeting with the airplane window.

“We want it open.” Venom replied telepathically.

“Do you also want us to blow out of the plane and into space?” You said through my teeth.

“We didn’t anticipate that but it’d be appreciated.” Venom answered, making you groan. The rest of the plane ride followed in similar fashion.

Seven hours later, you arrived at the apartment building. You had never been to your dads apartment, you didn’t even know he had one. You wondered what happened to your childhood home as you looked around the place. The apartment wasn’t too small but not too big either. The rent was practically nothing compared to how expensive San Francisco was, and The Daily Bugle offered to cover your expenses until the story was done. You figured after some redecorating and moving in, it would make a fine new home.

The first seven days in the apartment went by smoothly. You unpacked, with little to no help from Venom, and set up the furniture. On the eight day, you sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels in the TV when you had a thought.

“Oh shit.” You said out loud.

“What?” Venom, who was curly nestled around your neck like a neck pillow, asked.

“I forgot mail exists.” You frowned. “We better go check the mailbox before it overflows.”

You and Venom grudgingly walked to the mailboxes and back again. No one was around, so she manifested herself and rested on your shoulder as I looked through the mail.

“Oops. I grabbed someone else’s mail too.” You clicked your tongue when you read a strangers name off the envelope. “I gotta find them.”

“Let’s go.” Venom said and pulled you towards the front door.

“Sorry, babe. This is a me thing, not a we thing. You know I love you but I don’t want to scare our neighbors. Not yet anyway.” You reasoned. Venom grumbled and went back inside your body.

You checked the address of the envelope and discovered that it belonged to the apartment directly across from you.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it as you mindlessly cracked your knuckles. Just as you were about to walk away, the door opened.

“Hi, are you May Parker?” You asked right away. You looked up from the envelope and your face instantly flushed. The person staring back at you definitely wasn’t May Parker. It was a boy around your age, maybe a little younger. He had soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair. It was gelled back loosely and you could see the outline of soft curls. To your surprise, he was just as flushed as you were. You stared at each other for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to blink.

“Yea. I’m May Parker.” The boy said finally. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head.

“I mean, no I’m not. But that’s my Aunt. May is my Aunt but I’m not May. That’s my Aunt May. I’m her nephew…obviously. Aunt May is my Aunt May. I…what?” He stumbled over his words and somehow turned even redder. His blush reached all the way down his neck, to his blue jumper that read “Midtown Tech” in yellow letters. You recognized the name of one of the most prestigious high schools in New York, already impressed with your new neighbor.

“Well hello, not May Parker. I’m also not May Parker. But I seemed to forget that when I grabbed your mail this morning. Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly as you handed his mail to him. The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at it and attempted to redeem himself.

“It’s not problem. She and I always forget to check the mail so you actually helped us, um, whoever you are.” He smiled weakly. His voice was cute. He had that Queens accent that the people of San Francisco lacked, for obvious reasons.

“Oh, right.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I’m Y/N L/N. I just moved here from San Francisco. I live across the hall.”

You pointed to the door behind you as if he didn’t know what “across the hall” meant. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were never this awkward.

His eyes lit up a bit once you told him where you lived.

“Really? I thought that smelly guy lived there.” The boy said and you stifled a laugh.

“That smelly guy was my father. He died a little while ago so I live there now.” You told him, malign the boys eyes widen. They were so brown. Like little pools of honey. Or little pools of the Hudson River. You had seen a million pairs of brown eyes before, but none like his. They were quite distracting to be honest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I had. I had no idea-“ he began to frantically apologize but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. We never got along. And you’re right, that man stank.” You chuckled. It was the first thing you said that felt like your old self. You hadn’t really talked to anyone since moving to New York, with the exception of Venom and the occasional phone call from Andy or Dani. You liked talking to this boy, though you still had no idea who he was.

“Oh thank God. I thought I screwed this up before it even went anywhere.” He immediately turned red when he heard his own words. You saw the regret in his eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

“Well it certainly can’t go anywhere until you tell me your name.” You flirted. Again, he relaxed. You felt a surge of confidence knowing he wanted this to go well.

“Parker. I’m Parker Peter. I mean, Peter Parker.” He fumbled over his words again, making you smile fondly.

“We like him. He’s cute.” Venom said telepathically. You looked down at my shoes and blushed, knowing you liked him too.

“And he looks delicious.” She added, ruining the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter Parker.” You gave him your best smile. “I’m glad there’s someone my age around here. Everyone I’ve met so far is either an old bitty or a creepy uncle type.” You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. You didn’t know what his sense of humor was like and he might not find you the slightest but funny. Andy always told you you were bad at telling jokes, and you feared he might be right.

Lucky for you, Peter burst out laughing.

“Ah. I’ve seen you’ve met Henry.” Peter pointed a finger down the hall. “Yeah, I’d stay away from him. He asked me if he could have pictures of my feet once. He said he’d “pay me handsomely” for it too.”

“Damn. So he beat me to asking you.” You pretended to be upset, which made Peter laugh again. The sound of his laugh made your heart pick up speed. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Boys rarely impressed you, Andy was just lucky you liked a man in uniform.

“Yeah. You better stay away from him.” Peter advised.

“It might be hard.” You clicked your tongue. “Our mailboxes are pretty close. I’ll make a mental note to never check my mail while wearing flip flops, though.”

Peter smiled at your joke. He had the kind of smile that you would make the person laugh just to see it again. It was brilliant.

“Well my mailbox should be directly above yours. So don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He grinned, and you grinned back.

“My hero.” You gushed as you put your hands over your heart. The tips of his ears went pink, like he was shocked that you said that.

“I’m no hero.” He sounded almost panicked, like you touched a nerve or something.

“We’re hungry. We need to eat.” Venom interrupted abruptly, causing you to jump. Since Peter couldn’t hear her, he looked at you strangely, not knowing the cause of your sudden jolt.

“Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a spider.” You lied.

“If there was a spider, we’d eat it. We need food. Now.” Venom demanded.

Peter looked up at his doorframe for the imaginary spider.

“Yeah, New York is full of them.” Peter said skeptically. “Not that full, though. And some spiders are nice. One might even call them friendly.”

“Right.” You laughed at his strange wording, unaware that you were both keeping a secret.

“Would…” Peter began but trailed off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. “Would you like to eat dinner with my Aunt and I? I remember when we first moved in, it took us a while to get into the swing of things and make dinner every night. If you like, you could join us. And, you know, we could get to know each other.” He offered. It all came out in one breath. You could tell he was nervous and that only drew you in more.

“I’d love to Peter.” You said, and he smiled in relief.

“Great.” He gave an awkward thumbs up. “We usually eat around six so maybe come around then? She’ll be so happy to meet you. She loves cooking and she always tries to get me to learn but I once burnt cereal and I still don’t know how.” Peter began to ramble. He cut himself off and shook his head again. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Then, you did something stupid. You put your hand on his arm like the dumb bitch you were. You barely knew this guy. Who the hell were you to touch him? He must’ve been thinking the same thing, since he instantly froze under your touch and stared at your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. I can’t cook either. Unless you count making tater tots as cooking. Then I’m Gordon Ramsey.” You assured him, feeling him relax under your touch.

“You’re just gonna mention tater tots without warning us first? Our mouth is watering. Can we eat Peter?” Venom asked, making your eyes widen.

If it was socially acceptable to scream at your symbiote in public, you would’ve yelled “NO, WE CANNOT EAT PETER” from the top of your lungs. But since you didn’t want to scare Peter and the rest of the neighbors away, you merely smiled and made another mental note to smack the shit out of Venom later.

“I love that man. “Where is the lamb sauce?” Peter mimicked in a bad British accent. He had no right being as charming as he was.

“No no no.” You shook your head. “His best line is “I’ll get you more pumpkin and I’ll ram it right up your ass. Would you like it whole or diced?”. He’s said some pretty wild things but that one makes me cry.”

Peters laugh rang through the halls. To be the cause of that laugh was a feeling like no other. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His eyes grazed down your body, but not in a crude way. You berated yourself for not dressing better when going to meet the neighbors, clad in nothing but a grey hoodie and some leggings. Peter looked cute, but you had a feeling he always did. His jumper was pretty baggy and you could see a collared shirt poking out the top. He was dressed almost professionally and you found it incredibly endearing.

You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know his secrets and his hobbies and what makes him itch. You wanted to see if he dresses this way on weekends too or what his summer clothes looked like. Your gawking was interrupted by Peters phone ringing. He broke out of his trance and answered it quickly.

“Hi, Mr. S. No I’m not busy. I mean, I’m super busy but I can totally make time for you. Yea, Happy talked to me. Okay. Okay. Where? Okay. See you in a bit.” Peter hung up and looked at you apologetically.

“That was my job. I have to run but I’ll be back in time for our dinner. I live at…you know where I live. I’ll see you then. Don’t be late.” Peter called as he ran down the hallway, towards the elevator.

“I won’t. See you later.” You called back.

You went back to your apartment and like a kid, broke out into a happy dance.

“Venom!! Did you see how cute he was?” You gushed. “And how funny he is? I have to get ready for tonight.”

Venom manifested and swirled around my arm.

“Someone has a crush.” Venom smirked. Well, as much of a smirk as she could muster with that huge mouth of hers.

“I don’t have a crush. I just think he’s cute okay?” You replied coyly. “Cute. And funny and sweet and charming and amazing. But that’s it.”

“We can feel your heart beat.” Venom reminded you. “It was going ten miles an hour. What would Andy say?”

You had been rummaging through your closet and stopped in your tracks. With Peters new inhabitance in your mind, you had forgotten all about Andy. You moved to New York to avoid his wedding and his moving on, and you might’ve succeeded.

“I don’t care what he’d say.” You decided. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But we want him to be.” Venom insisted. “We want him back, remember?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You answered honestly. “I just want to get ready for tonight.”

“Why are you getting ready now? You have 5 hours until you have to be there and it’s right across the hall.” Venom teased.

“Only 5 hours?” You sighed. “We better get moving.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #iron man

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years

Text

I wish this trip never ends (sstbthw part 2) - h.h

Word count: 3768

Warning: angst, swear, mention of smoking

Pairing : harry holland

Request: no.

N/A: okay, i took me almost a whole month to write this but i'm kinda need to work on school too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really tried my best. I asked you who the reader was supposed to end up with ... I'll let you figure it out but ... don't hate me for the end ... because after all ... it might not be the end. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

taglist : @angeliquekalampoka , @harryhollandsgirlfriend (the one and only harry holland's girlfriend to me)

ღღღ

previously - and you can find part 3

Restoring a relationship of trust and regaining the bond that you both had was particularly difficult. You had to learn to find your place in Harrison's life, but also in his relationship with Grace. You were roommates and friends, but it was complicated to plan meetings with Harrison's busy schedule. Between his job search after the cancellation of his Netflix series, his photo shoots, his dates with Grace, those with his family. It was getting harder and harder to find a moment to reunite with the two of you. It was without counting your schedule.

You were supposed to meet at noon for lunch at that restaurant Harrison told you about where he took his mother earlier this year, for Mother's Day. You felt uncomfortable going to such a place. It was very fancy; you had taken a look at the menu and you knew in advance that you would not be able to afford to split the bill. That was sometimes one of the downsides of being friends with Tom and Harrison. They sometimes forgot that their salary was significantly higher than yours. After all, they were still simple, good-natured guys, never saying no to a quick takeout meal or ordering pizza, drinking a beer at the local pub. And sometimes, they offered to go to prestigious places, not paying attention to money, wanting to please their friends or family.

Currently you were in your room. You were throwing countless of clothes across the room, trying to choose what you could wear to this lunch. Harry stopped dead when one of your dresses flew out of your room, right in front of his nose, blocking his way. You had left your door open and your spontaneity got the better of your best friend.

“Easy, Tiger. I had no idea your clothes had the capacity of Dr. Strange's cape.” He joked before coming into your bedroom.

You turned to find Harry leaning against your doorframe, a smirk encrusted on his face. You gave him an unamused frown and his smile widened. This wasn’t funny at all; you were stressed as hell. It’s not like you still had feelings for Harrison and try to impress him – to be honest, you still had feeling for your friend, but not as intense as before, you had drawn a definitive line on the possibility of a romantic relationship with him, which had helped you a lot. – But you didn’t want to be dressed down and looked like a clown.

“Come on Munchkin, it’s just a lunch. At worst, Harrison can still make it looks like he invited you out for charity, sort of “Make a Wish” event” Harry joked, in his significant humor.

“Go to hell, Robert. Don’t you have a pack bag to make, mister “I’m going to Spain to help my superstar brother to hold his tea while he’s filming”?”

“Rude… I’m a film director, now”

Not for that, you thought to yourself, but don't have the balls to tell your best friend. You didn't want to take this joke too far. You smiled at his cute pretending offended face. You pouted mockingly before biting your lip. You loved the dynamics of your relationship so much. Your humor, sarcasm, your outspokenness, that's what brought you together. Harry pulled you lightly from your closet with a comforting wink. He chose Yves Saint Laurent poppy red wool jersey flared pants that Tom gave you on your birthday. You smiled at his choice. You liked these pair of pants because they were sparkling with vitality, the color was flamboyant. Harry then gave you a satin pearl-colored shirt from Zara and you laughed at the drastic brand difference.

“Oh I see. A classy look but no more than £ 1000 that's pretty smart,” you joked.

The choice of your outfit once again proved the reality of hanging out with wealthy people. You were not poor; you could even be grateful for the life you had had. But it would never occur to you to give your friends clothes that were going over the miles and cents. To be honest, you wanted it. You wanted to live up to the gifts your friends sometimes gave you. But the truth seemed quite different: you had cried over the price of a used Rolex you wanted to give Tom for his birthday. Even having saved for 6 months, you could not afford such a gift.

“Shut up, don’t be so dramatic. Wear that necklace Harrison gave you for Christmas. I’m sure you’ll look fine”

“Thank you,Baz…I guess. ”

You kissed his cheek and then invited him out of your room so you could get ready. It didn't take you more than thirty minutes, time to put on the outfit your best friend had chosen and to put on light makeup. When you were finally ready, you walked to Tom's room. He had offered to take you to the restaurant where you were to join Harrison. But when you got to his ajar door, you could hear the soft sound of a slight snoring. You let out a chuckle before ordering an Uber. You knew he had spent almost a full month in Los Angeles and hadn't returned until early last week. You wanted to leave him as much as possible alone so that he could rest before his trip to Spain for the reshoots of his film Uncharted. Tom was a boy who loved being in touch with those close to him, but you also felt his need to recharge his batteries. That's why you preferred to let him sleep.

You went down to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before leaving. When your Uber arrived, you left a note on the refrigerator to let the boys know you were safely gone. It was little everyday things that made you look normal that you enjoy. A post-it on the fridge, a table organizing household chores had been drawn up. Note to yourself; It was Harrison's turn to take care of the laundry.

☙♡❧

You had really hoped this was just a grotesque nightmare. That it wasn't real. He was going to arrive; he was just stuck into the traffic. Isn't it?

But you were there, waiting for over an hour and a half, without any news from your friend. Some people watched you with pity eyes, the others didn't give you any attention. You internally thank Harry for choosing your outfit. You didn't look like a lost kitten in this prestigious setting. It didn't prevent you from being ashamed right now. The waiter had urged you to order several times but you had told him that you were expecting someone, that he would arrive any minute. The last time, you didn't know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

But it never happened. Harrison never came to your dinner. You were alone, sitting at a table, pathetically waiting for your friend to show up. It didn't look like him. He had never stand you up before. And not to improve this embarrassing moment, the waiter came to you again. This time, with a man in a suit. He was elegant, carried himself proud but diplomatic. They stopped at your table, a tight smile on their faces. No doubt the man in the suit was to be the manager.

"Miss, my employee told me that you seemed to have occupied this table for a while now. I am sorry to tell you that if you do not order a few things, you will have to leave the establishment"

You looked at him with misty eyes. You have never been so ashamed in your life. You just nod your head, not trusting your voice just yet. After taking a deep breath, you finally apologize to them before telling them that you are going to leave. The manager of the restaurant, out of politeness awkwardly apologizing for this uncomfortable situation.

You've finished the Dry Martini that you allowed yourself to, paying for it with whatever pride you have left. You pulled your cellphone out of your purse and decided to call one of the boys. After three rings, he picked up.

"Hey ... can you please pick me up?"

Your voice was shaky, you were so ashamed but it was less distressing than having to walk the Walk of Shame to your house or cry in an uber. You hung up and shared your location. You left the lobby, leaving the restaurant, standing in front of the entrance to the establishment. The air refreshed your cheeks burning with shame. Luckily it wasn't raining today. Which was pretty nice compared to that early summer you had had.

When you saw Harry's car pulled up in front of you, you slid into the passenger seat without a word. The curly redhead gave you a heartwarming smile but you definitely could see a spark of annoyance in his eyes. You sigh, resigned while shrugging your shoulders. It was obvious that your friendship with Harrison was still shaky.

"I'm sorry, love. He's a jerk about it."

Coincidentally, like a mitigating circumstance, your phone vibrated, receiving a notification from Harrison. You were chewing your lip with a sort of anguish and irritation, watching the message the blond had sent you.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. My agent called me for a pretty urgent casting briefing. She's detained me until now. Are you still okay for this dinner?"

You were angry. You were mature enough and had known the boys long enough to understand their obligations. The fact that Harrison had a lastminute meeting with his agent and missed your dinner wasn't a problem. The problem was, he made you wait for over an hour and a half before notifying you. You wanted him to call you to let you know, or a simple text just after he knew for the meeting. You typed a short answer, shorter than this was impossible. "No". You rested your head against the headrest, turning your gaze to your best friend.

"Hey, he's a Netflix star now" you replied to his last words.

Your voice cracked on the last syllables and your eyes filled with tears. You weren't usually that emotional but the anguish and shame really took over you. Harry noticed, unsure of how to instantly respond to your distress. He would have liked to stop on an emergency lane to take you in his arms but he already had 2 penalties to pay, respectively for speeding and prohibited parking ... a third fine would not be really welcome. He simply placed his hand on your thigh, drawing circles on your pants to comfort you. He simply moved his hand to shift gears and instantly rested it on your leg whenever he had the chance. This gesture soothed you, enjoying the touch, grateful to have someone as your best friend to mop up your pain.

☙♡❧

Arriving at the apartment, no sign of Harrison. When you walked in the kitchen, you saw Tom sitting at the counter, scrolling his phone. He looked up at you, not directly noticing your annoyed expression.

"Wow..you're ... gorgeous. I love these pants on you"

You smiled, a little amused by the compliment. Of course he loved the pants, it was a gift from him. But your smile didn’t reach your eyes. With a look on your expression then on the clock, the actor understood that something went wrong. Harry was right behind and still no trace of Harrison. It was suspicious. Tom gave you a worried look.

"Do I have to ask…Never mind, I’m still going to ask. How was lunch with Harrison?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him? Oh wait... right, he didn't show up" you said sarcastically although you could hear the hurt in your voice.

Tom frowned, biting the inside of his lower lip in annoyance. Harrison was his best mate since forever and he knew him so well. It seemed strange from Harrison to not show up. The blond has told him he was happy to see you again and walking through this whole awkward “feeling situation” because he didn’t want to lose you. In a quick movement, he rose from his stool to walk around the counter. The next second, he took you in his comforting arms and you finally let yourself go under the sight of the two Holland brothers.

“It seems like you need a break of all this shit” Tom said while he ran his fingers through your hair.

You let a little laugh escape through your tears. He wasn't wrong. You really needed to get away from this whole situation for a moment. But how? Harry watched the scene unsure of what to do. You were his best friend and it seemed like the solace you found was never in his arms. He had tried in the car, however, as best he could. He walked over to the counter to make you both a cup of tea. It seems that as cliché as it sounds, tea comforts you, as the English person you used to be. As the redhead waited patiently for the water to boil, a flash of genius - according to him - crossed the glare of his eyes.

“Why doen't she come with us to Spain?”

His brother's words seemed to suit Tom, who released his hold on you. You opened your eyes wide, not sure of what you had just heard. Go to Spain, with them? Once again, you knew you were going to argue on this proposition. The idea was not bad, Spain seemed a rather pleasant country. But you had just graduated and had a student job to save as much as possible. However, you could not afford to leave for several days in Spain, at the last minute. Plus, what were you going to do while Tom was filming and Harry was assisting him? He was sure the film's production crew wasn't going to give you a pass because Tom had decided.

“Yeah! That’s it, you’re coming with us”

“Tom, I have a student job. I can’t just…decide to go to Spain.”

“You never take a leave, come on. It’s not negotiable”

You were looking at Harry for help but he just shrugged. After all, he was the one who had initiated the idea of including you on the trip. You were trying to find a valid excuse to stay home. You really didn't want to impose yourself.

“I can’t afford that” you said, trying your best to convince him to quit the idea.

“I don’t care, it’s not even a problem. You coming to Spain with us.”

"Omg, does Z dominate you in bed to make you so bossy in life?"

Harry almost spitted his tea and laughed out loud while Tom gave you shocked eyes with pinky cheeks. You had always been sassy but hanging out with the boys had made you even more sassy than ever. How many times haven't you heard Tuwaine or Harry make fun of Harrison or Tom on the sex subject? Being a girl seemed to make you an untouchable character. The boys had never teased you about your relationships or your sexual partners. And while you've always had feelings for Harrison, you've had your own experiences. Anyway, you had just gone with the flow and Tom's brand-new romantic relationship with his co-star gave you the perfect opportunity.

“That's not the point.” stammered the actor.

Your smile widened, proud of your joke and the way Tom reacted. You heard Harry clear his throat. He had his phone in his hand and his own smile didn't bode well for you.

"The production is okay but it's at Tom's expense."

“You got to be kidding me…”

☙♡❧

You ended up in Spain with two of your best friends. You knew you had limited time before Tom had to fly back to Los Angeles for some Spider-man: No Way Home reshoots. So, you enjoyed as much as possible: accompanying the boys to the golf course - even though you weren't very involved in the sport -, spending time to visit touristic places when they were on set, talking with Rachael and other people from the set. You really enjoyed your trip.

On Wednesday evening you went out to a restaurant with Tom, Harry and two other friends/tom’s colleagues. You couldn't deny that it was fun. You had the opportunity to sunbathe a little while walking through the streets of Madrid. Spain was doing you good and not once did you think about your wobbly friendship with Harrison. You've just left the restaurant when a few fans politely show up to take pictures with Tom. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of how kind Tom had always taken in a few snaps when his fans approached him respectfully - and there weren't too many of them -. You sighed with pleasure before stepping away from the group. You leaned against a wall and took out the packet of cigarettes that Tom had asked you to keep in your clutch bag. Being an occasional smoker, he wouldn't blame you if you took one from him. You tilted your head back to admire the dark starry night when you felt a presence by your side. You narrowed your eyes in mischief as you looked sideways: Harry was there, his nose wrinkled from your cigarette. He didn't like it too much Silence filled your bubble despite the hubbub outside. You were in public and it was not surprising to meet travelers and Madrid residents mingling with the crowd to enjoy this pleasant evening.

"I wish this trip never ends." You finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he was just looking at you. You were a little tanned, the Madrid sun had done wonders on you; your loose hair framed your face and the summer dress you had chosen for the restaurant looked great on you: It was a short red floral summer dress with a shingle collar. Light enough to keep you from suffocating but decent to wear on any casual occasion. You were beautiful, stunning. His heart exploded at the sight of you, so much that it hurt a few times.

"I wish I had been there for you more." he finally confessed

You finally turned your head towards him and shrug your shoulders, smiling shyly but sincerely.

“You were working, Baz”

“I meant…not only here in Spain. I’m sorry to have let you down recently”

You give him a confused look. He hadn't been a bad friend but he kept implying it. You just shook your head negatively to brush his words away. Harry had always been important to you. He had been the first to step towards you. It was him who introduced you to the rest of the gang. He had always been concerned about you.

The night you met, you immediately clicked up with him. And to be honest, for a moment, you thought he liked you that night. But he never took that step towards you and you never did either. You dreaded that if you kissed him, he would think you were interested in his notoriety by proxy. So you just acted like any reasonable person would - accept the status he gave you. And the second time he asked you to join him with his brother and his friends, you met Harrison and your heart exploded.

"I'm glad you brought me here"

“I'm happy you accepted to come.”

“I didn't really have the choice, Baz” you joked.

He laughed slightly. You weren't wrong, he and Tom had practically dragged you onto the plane, leaving you no choice to be by their side. But you could only thank them, especially Harry who had the idea. You took another hit on your cigarette before leaning back to check out where Tom was with his fans. He seemed to be talking with the girls and didn't seem overwhelmed. So, you didn't want to interrupt him and were just going to wait for him to finish. Harry played with his hands nervously, looking straight ahead and then at you. He seemed to be repeating this game for several seconds before finally asking the question that was in his mind.

“Have you heard from Harrison?” Harry asked quite casually

“He sent me several texts to apologize and wished me to have a good time in Madrid.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

You swallow hard before looking at him. There was an indecipherable glint in his eyes and you weren't sure what to make of it. You drew another puff from your cigarette, maybe that would save you from entering this conversation. But Harry's presence was all around you and you couldn't really escape. So you've decided to be honest.

“It’s complicated. I suppose so...”

“Mhmm”

“But my friendship with Haz is important, I don't want to lose him because of it.”

“Yeah, you can't imagine how well I understand you” he sighed

“What do you mean? Who’s the lucky girl..or guy ?”

Harry turned to you frankly and you did the same, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette. You are well aware that the conversation was taking a more serious turn. He moistened his lips and walked over to you. Harry was full of things: he was full-loving, sarcastic, talented, daring, impertinent. But Harry was mostly awkward when it came to love. Not just an attraction, no, love with real feeling. Delicately, hesitantly, he reached out to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers, cautiously. You were frozen, your eyes fixed on him admiring his audacity.

"She's the most beautiful girl I ever seen." he said with a small smile.

Harry walked over to you and your heart was pounding at breakneck speed. Harry had ... feelings for you? You were really confused. Since when had he developed his feelings? Why didn't he tell you about it? Why hadn't he tried anything so far? So, were you right from the start? Was there a tension between you since the beginning of your friendship, since your met? But above all, did you want him to take that step? Instinctively, your body responded. You parted your lips and closed your eyes. You enjoyed the warmth of his hand on your cheek and were waiting for the touch of his lips. But it never happened.

"Hey baz, y/n..we're going back to the hotel" Tom said, taking his eyes off his phone. "I…Mhmm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland fic #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield #tom holland

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

WARNINGS : N!SFW 18+ AGED UP AU! SOME SCENES MAY CONTAIN GRAPHIC CONTENT, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YANDERE THEMES GIF MADE BY ME

It started out with a package.

Roses really, neatly tucked away in plastic and a glass vase that nestled into loud styrofoam.

Or at least that's when you started to notice it.

Actually it started with a phone call didn't it?

Just a few days ago the old rotary phone, the one you bought for nostalgia, rang. This in itself was not odd, you picked up the aged yellow receiver and pressed the cool plastic to your ear.

But you did not speak, waiting patiently for the other line to come to life. After a few moments of silence you figure it to be a telemarketer, the automated type that doesn't start its spiel until it hears a tone, a voice. So you hang up.

The random call lost to both time and thought.

But you cannot forget this package that acted as a catalyst, to what you were not sure.

You just knew it was something.

The white box with the flower company's name on the side of the cardboard sat on your concrete steps, just past the waist high fence. You were returning from a run, huffing as you bent over, you figured it was most likely for your neighbor but it had your address. The recipient's name had been worn off from the poor handling of the package, you had figured the contents to be broken. Despite the state of the box the roses were perfectly intact. Crystal vase sparkling even through the opaque wrapping, a note on top that read.

I'll love you always.

Ah so this was not for you. You scoff, this was meant for your neighbor as you first originally thought. It made more sense that way. What with his boyfriend being long distance, it was obvious. He most likely remembered his address wrong and put yours in error. As you're haphazardly closing the box, keeping the note in hand, your neighbor waltz from his door.

"Ah, um Denki-kun" You call, a bright smile beams on his face as he makes his way to meet you at your shared fence.

"Love!" He greets, strong hand giving your bicep a soft squeeze, "Ah flowers? Spill!"

"Well they aren't mine. I...I think they're yours. Here." You shove the box and note into his hands, stupid tears trying to prick your eyes.

Why? You were unsure.

Maybe you were a bit jealous. Thinking back you couldn't remember the last time you had even had a flirtatious comment or cat call sent your way. You lived a normal quiet life with your "abnormality". Quirkless. You worked from home, spoke to a select few and hardly left your house. It contributed to your wait gain thus adding to your small list of places to go.

The grocery store.

And the gym Denki invited you to or around the block for a run.

After a gurgling amount of time you finally achieved your dream body. Now all that was left was to maintain it.

"Wait!" Denki calls, "This isn't my boyfriend's handwriting."

Furrowing your brows, hand on the handle the answer comes to you.

"Probably just one of those fonts meant to look like handwriting."

"No, come look. It was made with a ballpoint pen." Nothing escapes his pro hero trained eye, his finger slides beneath the words, "He seems passionate! Lucky duck look at how deep love is."

He passes the card to you, giving you a wink as he passes the white box. Sure enough there are divots in the card stock, love is the deepest. Deep enough it almost ripped through the thick paper. You swallow thickly racking your brain, your job requires you to have answers to every question. Logical answers. So it's no surprise your mind wanders until it comes up with something. Your eyes shift to the right, you were lucky enough for your little house to be on the corner of the block.

The delicate roses must have been intended for your neighbor diagonal from you. You wait until Denki is halfway down the block before you rush across the quiet street to set the flowers up neatly on the porch. Throwing the box and wrapping into the trash before you speed walk into the safety of your sanctuary.

Your cats prance to the door to greet you and then sprint to the kitchen to be fed. As if you hadn't just fed them before your run a little less than an hour ago.

The rest of your night is uneventful. You curl on the couch, nestled deep within an old cardigan and the comfort of your leggings with a pile of work to be analyzed. To find the devil in the details and solve what seemed unsolvable.

The answers were always there, under your nose. Found easily by your trained eye but how could you not see the obvious answers when you had the luxury of a bird's eye view. The luxury of knowing the whole story from the shakey beginning to the bitter end.

A luxury you would not have for your own story.

The shrill ring cuts through the comfortable silence causing you to jump from your skin, the cats perk their heads up lazily to see what disturbed them before tucking their head back down.

You tell yourself it's a wrong number, a telemarketer but curiosity is beginning to get the better of you.

And curiosity is a deadly, loud thing. Louder than reason. Reason you had learned from the safety of your home, from other people's mistakes. The same very mistakes that sit on your lap with harsh red ink labeling them C L A S S I F I E D.

It rings a fourth time as you stand, the bell calling out for your attention, demanding you speak. You lift the receiver, again there is silence on the other end.

You wait patiently, is this another automated telemarketer? Had you entered your real number by mistake for one of those stupid store discounts?

You must have, still you resist the urge to tap the speaker of the phone to see if it would trigger the recording.

Instead you drop the receiver onto the base, rattling the hidden bell.

And that was that, you return to your work. Pouring over the details to find the pattern, to build a psychological profile to avoid a tragedy in the future.

Ironic how you cannot prevent your own.

It isn't until a few weeks later does the first letter find its way into your mailbox.

It seemed harmless enough you thought it to be an accident, just neatly looped words proclaiming their love. But it was never fully addressed to you and when you tried to pass it off to Denki, again he denied that the letter belonged to him.

Still, those looping letters twist into your memory, coming to the forefront of your mind every now and again. As if the paper that lies on your dining room table reads itself aloud, from beginning to end at the top of every hour.

As if the ink doesn't want you to forget.

"I am not sure when it started, but it did. I had fallen for you despite my efforts not to. A half of a year I've told myself to forget it, to forget you. And yet I cannot bring myself to stop, the more I try the more you come to mind. And the more I find myself near you. It's as if you're a bad drug I can't quit. I've been watching you. Everything you do is done in such cautious beauty. Please answer next time my dear."

Silence for weeks after that, at least as far as the rotary phone and the mailbox were concerned. You would occasionally get a text from an unknown number.

A transposed number, an error on the sender's end. Or so you assured yourself, especially when they would seem a bit too coincidental. When you were out for a jog or out at the gym at a different time than usual a text would come through.

For a second your mouth would go dry, your blood ice cold as you read the black letters atop the white screen. Huffing as your lack of breath came from a psychological response as opposed to your physical running.

Why aren't you home?

See you soon?

But these couldn't be intended for you. How could they? You could list the people you knew outside of your family and work place on one hand.

Denki.

And only because he spoke to you first!

So these texts, these little messages laced with concern could have been for an estranged spouse, a forgetful spouse or some partner who lacked the ability to properly communicate.

You just knew they weren't for you.

Or so your new mantra goes.

Paranoia didn't begin to sink it's sharp teeth into you until you noticed your cats' odd behavior.

In an immeasurable amount of time they went from lazy, happy go lucky animals to hostile even aggressive creatures. As if they were suddenly feral.

Oddly enough they only acted this way during certain times, mainly at night. Their moon eyes saw things you could not, their enhanced hearing heard things you could not, things you labeled, rat or mouse.

Would a mouse or rat cause a cat to hiss at shrouded corners? To claw at the wall with a howl that sounded more like a scream? Would it make them avoid the closet door in your room?

Maybe it was bigger? The floorboards above did groan more often than not lately. Maybe it was a raccoon even.

Yes, that had to be the cause of their behavior.

And yet there was still that one time, that one instance you sometimes dream about waking in a cold sweet.

The thing you cannot explain away, nor label as mouse, rat, not even a raccoon.

A cocktail of a tired mind and a trick of the eye but simply not vermin.

It was overcast, a sickly grey as the day wept deep into the night. The weather, naturally, caused you to melt into the plush material of your couch as you consumed comfort movie after comfort movie. You were given a reprieve from your worry as your cats seemed normal, sleepy just as you were that day. Even Nyx chose to laze on your chest as a temporary throne. Your couch is flush against the arch way that leads into the dining room and kitchen, giving it's back to part of the hallway towards the main bathroom and your bedroom at the back.

This angle always caused you great anxiety but there was no other way your luxury couch could fit in the small living room and so you always sunk low into the cushions.

Suddenly Nyx's ears twitch and her eyes snap open, waking only a cat knows how. On high alert to a sound totally lost to your draft ear. Her eyes widen, pupils dilating to adjust better to the shadowed room. The glow of the TV casts such a glow on the objects around you, flicker in soft and harsh lights. Slowly Nyx cranes her neck to see what exactly disturbed her sleep, just as her eyes lock on whatever is behind you, you see it for just a fraction of a second.

In the reflection of those moon eyes you see it. Distorted only from the curvature of her lens and the grain of the TV but there is no denying its shape.

A crude outline of a man, broad shouldered and faceless in the dark.

You freeze, mirroring your cat. Breath held as you watch the figure in the pitch black pupil. Wishing, hoping and praying that what you see is not really there.

After an eon of a moment, Nyx begins to shrink in on herself before silently slinking from the couch to find shelter beneath it.

You are not brave enough to move, to crane your head just as your cat did before you to confirm if what you saw was real. And in the milliseconds that the TV goes black you avoid the corner the figure should be standing in. Goose flesh breaks out over your skin, making you feel vulnerable and cold. While your feet burn begging you to get up.

To run.

After a lot of mental reassurance and silence you begin to settle down. Easing yourself back into the rational world. Even becoming brave enough to stare into the TV, into the corner where the figure should be reflected in.

Each passing second as you wait for that small moment of blackness sends your heart into an irrational pace. Finally it happens and when you see nothing you sigh with relief.

Mentally giving yourself an "I told you it was nothing." talk.

That is until you hear a sound, a thump and a click from the back bedroom.

Your bedroom.

But the sound seems as if it came from within, as if it were your closet door.

Your heart explodes into frantic erratic beating.

The shrill ring of the old rotary phone rips through the dialogue of the movie but it can be barely heard over the hum of your blood.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

Tonight you are frozen in place, whether that be from petrifying fear or sheer stubborn denial you cannot say. You just know one thing. You do not want to deal with the automated telemarketer who never seems to speak.

It rings four more times before it stops.

You chalk it up to coincidence. To nothing.

Late evening turns into late night and sooner rather than later you find yourself in the mouth of the hallway. Staring down your bedroom door as your mind plays on repeat the sound of a door closing from earlier that night.

You cannot let the boogie man keep you from sleep. Slowly you enter, flicking on all the lights.

Everything seems to be in place, the small pile of laundry still lies abandoned by your hamper, your bed neatly made, pillows haphazardly lying about the comforter. Hell even your inherited diamond drop necklace still sits snugly in the jewelry dish on your night stand.

The townhouse makes an odd sound, you jump out of your skin. Clutching your phone so hard the lock and volume buttons imprint into your palms.

No longer can you ignore the elephant in the room as the silence from this particular space screams at deafening volumes until you dare to look. Your eyes flicker to your left and there it is.

Your closet door, seeming to yawn and stretch even in the harsh hue of the overhead light. A closet is always an ominous, odd place and the sounds it may or may not have made cause a great twisting in your stomach. The shine of the knob calls to you with deadly wonder. Begging you to turn the gleaming metal to reveal the darkness behind the bland white door.

It should be inspected shouldn't it? If you ever wanted to sleep soundly you would need to reveal what may lurk in the dark.

Creeping towards the door with baited breath until finally your hand hovers over the knob.

"Open me." It seems to whisper in delighted glee, elated to see your stressed, scared features distort in its polished brass. You retract your fingers as if burned, biting onto your lip as you scrape your large armchair against the wood. Shoving it into place against the closet door.

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the door until your eyes burn. You turn off the overhead light but keep the soft light of your nightstand lamp on.

You dream fever dreams of flashing lights as a storm passes overhead. Dream of the closet door laughing in the night, of cool fingers pressed into your skin.

Jolting awake you reach for your phone as your senses slowly come to you. Your eyes fly to the armchair in the mid morning light. It rests in the same spot you left it ominously staring at your bed.

Something seems off about it or maybe you just imagine that there is a deep divot in the cushion, as if someone or something sat in the armchair most of the night.

You close your eyes and go over rational explanations. Always bringing back to yourself the same question.

Who in the world would want you?

Bringing you back full circle, that you were getting ahead of yourself. The cart before the horse in a sense and letting your mind race without restraint.

Letting the season of Fall try to creep into your bones and cause an artificial fear.

Still it's not too long after that do the cats avoid your room altogether.

While you choose to do what you've always done, push the problem aside and explain it away.

The phone rings as you're lacing up your running shoes. You pick up the receiver without bringing it to your ear and place it down gently.

It's just a wrong number anyway.

Tonight air bites at your nose, leaves crunching underfoot as wind whips around buildings and trash, carrying with it the promise of a harsh winter to come.

Your feet carry you slowly back to the direction of home as they beat down your normal, safe route.

A right from your little townhome, straight for two blocks before you would find the winding black pavement. It would snake past the backs of homes through some small trees but never a path that was fully hidden.

Always out in the open but giving you the ability to peer into people's lives as you passed. Witnessing dinners, arguments and heated moments of passion. Silently you thanked Kami you were not positioned on this route.

You keep your eyes focused ahead, the music in your ears low to listen for possible passers such as a bike or a better runner than yourself.

You pass a tree that seems thicker than normal, your phone buzzes on your arm band.

An email, it has to be an email.

Yet your mind wanders to those worried texts, lingers on the thoughts of if that tree had always been that wide, if the quickly setting sun had always cast the path in blood red. The maroon leaves flutter overhead, falling to the ground.

More crunching than what you think your feet should produce has you running faster. Forcing yourself not to glance over your shoulder. Your breathing becomes rasped as you borderline sprint home, still the crunching comes closer.

It isn't until someone brushes your shoulder as they pass do you let out a blood curdling scream. Huffing to catch your breath as you take a step back. The jogger, your neighbor from across the street that you occasionally run into, removes his earbud.

"You okay?" He addresses you by your name and suddenly you're embarrassed that you do not know his. He takes your silence as an answer, his brow furrowing.

"I thought you'd be less skittish since your new boyfriend's been coming around." Your mouth goes dry.

"Wh...what?"

"Yea he seems so sweet. He always checks the windows to make sure they are locked at night." He takes in your response and shrugs, "It's getting late. Since I didn't see your boyfriend there yet, I'll jog you home."

The jog home is agonizing,your mind racing far faster than your feet can go.

What did he mean he saw him checking the windows? What boyfriend?

Maybe, maybe he mixed up your house with Denki's again. It's happened once before when he was returning mail. So there was a good chance he was mistaken again.

Still the closer the two of you get to home the worse you feel. A brick sits in your stomach as he jogs in place before your fence. He gives you a knowing smile and a wink as you wave him goodbye.

It isn't until you turn to face your home do you notice it, the white rectangle stark against your black door.

There is an envelope taped to the thick oak, addressed to no one but "My beloved".

You rip it from the wood with ragged breath as you bring it inside. Already you can feel the contents squirming, fidgeting as it waits to be read.

Polaroid photos fall to the hardwood floors, pictures of you running down your favorite path. Blurred images of you walking down the aisles of the grocery store, and even a photo of you taken between the cracks of the fence in your front yard.

There are no more photos after that, at least not this time. Just that fucking letter written in long looping ink You feel the words tighten around your throat as horror wraps its spindly fingers around your guts and yanks them towards the floor.

Your knees threaten to buckle as your eyes rapidly move along the page.

"In these moments you are the most beautiful. Blissfully unaware of prying eyes. In my time I've come to care for you I've noticed I'm not the only one watching. People gaze at you with whispered murmurs, with pitying eyes as they spin tales of your life. Speculating gossip as you prance about the neighborhood. Flaunting in those tight running shorts that hold every godly curve of your thighs and ass. Of the light jacket you leave unzipped so they can get a better view of your bouncing breasts tucked in your black sports bra. I wonder, would they bounce like that when you ride on my cock? Would your hair stick to your forehead like that as I rail you from behind. Would that angelic voice squeak out for more? For me? Ah I'm salivating thinking of it, harder than I've ever been. Please do not wear those out while running. In fact you don't have to run anymore Doll. You just need to let me take care of you God damn it. You little fucking whore. You seductive vixen with your God damned doe eyes. Just...just fucking answer please."

Rage and fear fight for control as you reread the letter for the fourth, fifth time before you finally move. Rage, for once, wins. You slam the door behind you locking the deadbolt before running to the back bedroom. Throwing the heavy chair from the closet door and ripping it open.

Nothing lies within it, just clothes that begin to smell of neglect. Of old running shoes you didn't have the heart to throw away.

Of relief that whoever was sending these letters, these ones that weren't meant for you. Wasn't currently in the house.

The floorboards overhead groan and for a moment you have half a mind to tuck your cats away into their carrier, buy a one way train ticket to bumfuck nowhere and set your house ablaze.

Instead you move the chair back in front of the closet, grabbing things from your back bedroom to start your new life on your couch.

Time passes as the trees become more bare, their spindly fingers reaching out to tap the roof at odd hours of the night.

Tomorrow you promised yourself you would run.

And yet you find yourself dressed, lacing up your shoes before slowly opening the door. Your jacket is zipped all the way up, your hair neatly tied back and just as you step foot out the front door a heavy wind rips through the yard causing Denki's unlatched gate to slam. You jump back startled as your fear clings to you like a second skin. The letter begins to overlap in your head and the polaroid photos you had trashed a few weeks ago burn into your retinas. A faint snap and a whirl comes from close by and suddenly your stomach churns. Bile rushes up your windpipe too quickly, slamming the door shut and running to the bathroom. You barely make it as you dry heave into the porcelain bowl, huffing in the air of fresh toilet water. The smell starts a vicious cycle of nausea until finally your clammy skin begins to cool, pressing yourself to the side of the tub. In your panic your skin becomes sensitive, hyper aware of each stitch in your jacket, your sports bra and your jogging leggings. Your rip at your clothes until you peel them off of you, huffing as you scramble to get into the shower.

It does not matter that the water is not yet hot. Hell it isn't even lukewarm still you find yourself in the stream as it becomes scalding. Scrubbing at your skin with soap over and over and over. Nails pulling away already raw skin until that burning water begins to cool. A floorboard creaks overhead causing your head to snap up. The ceiling holds no secrets and yet no answers until you see it. A small hole, one you aren't sure if it's always been there, gaping from the attic over your shower and bath. It's too dark to tell if there is someone peering down at you from above or not.

Instead of freaking out your head slowly tilts away from the haunting discovery. Turning off the water, opening the curtain and wrapping yourself in a towel. As if it were every day you see something like that, as if it were nothing more than a spider lingering that you'd wish to forget.

It's fine It's always been there

But that would be the last time you would take a shower in that house.

Even though you hardly left your couch, things would still go missing in yourself. Things like the remote or one of your hundreds of phone charger cords. Even documents to cases but you didn't care, couldn't care. Otherwise you would break. Shatter.

Your days consisted of lying on the couch and consuming an ungodly amount of television. Doing so until your eyes burned although you begged them to stay open. Sadly everyone needed sleep and so you did. Giving into exhaustion as your eyes fluttered closed and your body weak, relaxing into the comfort of the couch.

Hours are lost to you so you dream and dream. Of a better time or of yourself in one of your files to dissect. Giving yourself that perfect bird's eye view and wondering how the victim never saw it coming.

In your dream you feel something along your face, smooth fingertips trace down your cheek over and over at a lulling pace.

"So perfect." A whispered serenade melding in with a snap and a whirl. A flash of lightning from a passing storm.

Except there was no storm coming in.

Your eyes snap open as you jerk to a sitting position frantically looking around the room. When your eyes find nothing you allow your beating heart to settle back into your numbed state, more than ready to melt into the couch.

Until your stomach growls forcing you to focus on a new problem.

When was the last time you ate? Your stomach had long forgotten about food, choosing to conserve energy in case you needed to run from whatever the hell it was in your head.

Forgoing dressing you place your hand on the knob, wallet in hand. Two sets of glowing eyes watch you from beneath the couch. Twisting the metal to yank the door open you are greeted with cold fall air. The wind whips hair into your face as your mind quickly wanders. You half imagined a man to be standing in the middle of the street. Mouth stretched too far over gleaming teeth, lips parting enough as the wind brings with it the sound of your name.

Frantically you move your hair from your face, eyes searching up and down the street to find no one, nothing.

As it should be at 10am on a weekday. Suddenly the weight of going outside sits on your shoulders, despite the convenience store being a ten minute walk both ways, the thought of you going alone scared you. Slowly you shut the door, falling to your knees before lying face down on your floor openly sobbing.

A creaking board sends you back to high alert, you remove your jacket and decide to order take out instead.

The knocking at your front door jolts you awake, the TV drones in the background with hazed over words as you quickly come to. Heart slamming into your chest before your stomach growls loudly. Right, food.

Your hand hovers over the knob as if suddenly you cannot move, as if the person on the other side of the door is an imposter lying in wait. Another knock comes at the door, he announces who he works for which eases your phobia a bit. You swallow thickly before finally opening the door, hands sweating as the anticipation of the identity of the stranger on your porch.

He seems to check out, his outfit covered in logos for your takeout restaurant of choice, car labeled as such as well. He holds the receipt towards you. His eyes wander over the face of the house, giving you sudden chills.

The question falls from your numb lips.

"D...do you see anyone in the windows?" The delivery guy visibly jarrs, eyes darting to the windows of your room and the living room. Suddenly his face changes as a knowing smile spreads on his lips.

"This is a prank isn't it? For Halloween right?" He chuckles, but when he sees the pen shaking in your grip his face goes stone cold. Eyes darting to your left, to the bedroom windows. He taps the paper, indicating where you need to sign, you take a moment to do so.

The old rotary phone screams from the living room, making you both jump.

"Guess I better get that." You gesture, grabbing for your food. He nods affirmation before stepping off of your small porch a little too quickly.

You slam the front door, appetite washed away by each shrill of the small bell. Hesitantly you reach for it, you have to know, need to know who could be on the other side.

The receiver is cold against your ear, the other line is quiet, although you can hear something soft in the background.

Talking, it sounds familiar, like an echo or almost as if there is a delay. It almost sounds like the same commercial that's playing on your TV right now.

Gently you set the phone down, the soft click echoes in the space around you. You sit on the couch before lying, covering yourself in your blanket as your takeout sits by the door, forgotten.

It wouldn't be too long before it begins to rot, almost as quickly as you.

The phone rings

And rings

And rings.

Nightly in fact, for the next few weeks as you cry silently trying to ignore the sound. Turning up the TV as loud as it can go, 24/7 until finally the speakers blow and you are left with nothing but that shrill shriek. The demand of the small plastic item that was meant to bring to a comforting memory from the past comes more often. Every four hours, every three hours, every hour until finally when it comes to an end it breathes again.

Screaming into the night tearing away your hearing, your sanity until finally you get up from your spot on the couch. Clothes falling away from your frame as they had grown in the time you sat. The time that you watched.

Each step is agonizing as sobs rack through your body, shaking hands making it hard to reach for the cool receiver.

You press it to your ear and for a final time your mind attempts logic. It is just an automated telemarketer, a glitch or determined program but the thought crumbles as your ears strain to hear the soft breath on the other line.

"Please…please stop." You sob into the receiver when no one speaks. The silence deafening as your mind can no longer keep with the charade.

That everything is okay and has always been okay. That the red flags you studied for a living were never there, washed away by your feigned ignorance.

"Finally got a response out of you." A velvet voice chimes, agitation lacing his syllables, "Gods, I just cannot wait to have you. It was worth it you know? Living in your walls for months."

"Why are you doing this?" Your voice barely a whisper, a soggy huff more than anything.

"I'm glad you asked." You body goes rigid, a haze blankets your mind and smothers the scream tearing up your throat.

"Now walk out the door to me. Don't worry I'll bring your cats back to our home later."

You hang up the phone, body moving on it's own as you walk towards the front door. A door you had chosen to avoid and for good reason. But you should have known the danger lied within these four walls. Although your body feels heavy it moves normally despite you trying to fight it. Or as best you can with your worn down mind.and will. It is not as joyous as a moment for you and it is for the man in the street. His lilac hair is illuminated in the moonlight while his amethyst eyes glow iridescent. His smile is as you imagined, twisted and screwed up in such a way it makes your stomach churn. Lips stretched out almost too far over gleaming white teeth. Your face does not reflect your horror as it stays neutral, only your eyes give you way as tears fall from your cheeks.

The answer was there, under your nose, the devil in the details that you normally saw with your bird's eye view. One you didn't have the luxury of for your own story.

"Come now pet. It's time I finally teach you about what it means to be mine."

EPILOGUE

Everything is hazed over and slow, as if watching an old silent movie through the static and snow of the screen. Trying to read their lips to figure out what they are saying only for the text box to come too late.

"Perfect. Now get on your knees kitten. Open wide." You follow his orders numbly body moving on it's own as he smiles down at you. "God, you're so so perfect."

Long fingers tug at his belt before the shrill of a ring tone cuts through the silence. It is the same sound of your rotary phone at home except with an added element. The foreign sound of your whimpers and pleads for the phone to stop can just barely be heard. He looks down at the cell phone and answers.

"Denki, Baby I know I said I would come tonight. I'm just running late okay?" Amethyst eyes rove over to you and it is then that it hits you. The horror of the realization is like ice water dumped over you as you put two and two together.

The first time you saw him, visiting your neighbor over a year ago. It was such a quick exchange, eye contact and nothing more as his lips were pressed to Denki's.

Your mouth goes dry as it hangs open, slowly it becomes uncomfortable.

He changes his voice to sound like someone else's, someone with a gruff deeper tone.

"Oi quit talking to dunce face so we can finish this shit!" He removed the device from his mouth

"I'll be home after this patrol. Love you bye."

He tosses the phone before gripping your chin to spit into your mouth, his hand rests on the hem of his pants.

"Now...where was I?"

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #yandere bnha #shinso yandere #yandere shinso x reader #bnha x reader #bnha harem collab #bnha halloween #bnha spooky

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