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ear-monstrosities · 4 years

Text

the silence isn’t so bad ‘til I look at my hands and feel sad, ‘cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly (1/1)

Summary: ”I will never stop loving you Chloe. Not now, not ever. No matter where I am, I will be there with you through thick and thin. I will never truly leave you.”

Word Count: 5,336

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Major Character Death(s)

A/N: Title from Vanilla Twilight -Owl City I do not own the characters or anything associated with Pitch Perfect (except Jacob and BJ)

Read here or on AO3

* * * * *

Chloe dragged her feet through the door and plopped down on the couch. Work had really taken a toll on her today. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her nice, comfy bed and take a 24-hour nap. She knew she couldn’t, though, as she had a family to feed. After several episodes of Meet the Frasers, Chloe glanced at the clock. Beca and Jake should be home by now, they should have been home at least a half-hour ago. Chloe started to get up from the couch when her phone rang.

”Hello?” Chloe hesitantly answered the phone.

”Is this Mrs. Beale-Mitchell?” The man’s gravelly voice came through the speaker.

”Yes, this is she” Chloe’s response showed the worry in her voice.

”Beca Beale-Mitchell and Jacob Beale-Mitchell have been in an accident. Beca is in critical condition.“ The man replied, and Chloe’s face went white. The rest of the conversation was a jumble of words as she grabbed her keys and ran out the door. She slung open the door to her car in a panicked frenzy and sat down in the driver's seat. Not ten seconds went by and she was already screaming down and out of the driveway. She knew she shouldn’t be putting herself in danger just to get there, but she couldn’t stand the thought of her wife and son being hurt.

Chloe pulled up to the hospital and got out of her car hastily. When she got to the front desk, she gave her name and who she was there for, before swiftly walking to see them.

”How bad is it?” Chloe frantically asked the doctor. There was fear in her eyes as a lonesome tear ran down her cheek.

”She’s coming in and out of consciousness and is in critical condition. There’s not much more we can do for her. As for Jacob, he’s stable. He’ll make it out.” The doctor replied with sympathy in his eyes. Chloe opened her mouth to speak but the doctor cut her off.

”You might want to go speak to her. There’s no telling how long she has left. We don’t think she’ll make it through the night” Chloe let out a sob as the tears came streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t attempt to dry them as she walked towards Beca.

”Chloe? Baby, is that you?” Beca said in a raspy voice as her eyes fluttered open. Chloe smiled at the younger woman.

”It’s me Becs. I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you. Never.” Chloe said with determination.

”I think I’ll be the one leaving, Chlo.” Chloe tried to protest but Beca stopped her. “I need you to stay strong for me, honey. I might not make it out of this hospital, so that means you need to keep going. Find someone that will take care of you and love you when I’m gone. Take care of our kids.”

Beca placed a battered hand on Chloe’s ever-growing abdomen. She was 6 months pregnant with their baby girl. They used Beca’s eggs, so there would be a mini Beca for her to have running around the house.

”I will never stop loving you, Chloe. Not now, not ever. No matter where I am, I will be there with you through thick and thin. I will never truly leave you.” Beca was crying at this point.

”I love you too, Beca, but you’re gonna be okay.” Chloe replied, but Beca just shook her head.

”I really don’t think I will. It’s just my time to go.” Beca’s voice cracked and she looked away. “But I don’t wanna spend the last day of my life alone. I wanna be here, with you. Will you stay here with me?”

”Of course, Becs” Chloe eased into the side of Beca’s bed and slowly snuggled her head into her side, being careful not to hit a cord or hurt her. About an hour went by with doctors coming in and out of the room. Chloe never stopped crying, and Beca stroked Chloe’s head while she was conscious.

”Thank you, Chloe. Thank you for this wonderful life you’ve given me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love my girls-“ Beca caressed Chloe’s abdomen “-and my baby boy who is not such a baby anymore”

The beeping on the monitor gradually slowed down

“I love you, Chloe. So much. Never forget that.” Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand as her eyes fluttered shut and her breath spilled out of her lungs with a small groan. Chloe sobbed loudly and called the doctor in. The doctor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she left the room and went to go see her son. She walked into the room and was met with a pair of puffy eyes.

”She’s gone, isn’t she?” The 9 year old boy asked with a shake to his voice. Chloe didn’t say anything as she walked over and held the boy in her arms.

”I made her late Mom. I made her late and now my Mama’s gone” The young boy sobbed into his mother’s shirt.

”It’s not your fault, Jakey. No one could’ve known.” Chloe gently said to Jacob.

”No, no, if I wouldn’t have asked to meet Halsey, she wouldn’t have been there. We would’ve already been home and we would both be safe” Jacob sobbed.

”It is not your fault, you hear me?” Jacob slowly nodded and went back to crying.

”Let it out. Don’t be afraid, just let it out” Chloe whispered to the boy as both of them let their emotions take over them.

”We’ll never be without her. We’ll never forget her. She’s a part of us.” Chloe spoke between sobs.

”She's never truly gone, she's only gone once we forget her. I won’t let that happen.”

”C’mon Chlo, you got this. Push!” Aubrey was by Chloe’s side through the entire labor. She didn’t leave once. She might not be Beca, but Aubrey’s husband died a year before Beca did, so they stick together.

”One more push, she’s almost here,” Aubrey said barely loud enough for Chloe to hear. The screaming cries of a newborn baby filled the room. A beautiful baby girl with a head full of brown hair was placed into Chloe’s arms.

”She’s beautiful, Bree” Chloe whispered and started crying.

”What’re you gonna name her?” Aubrey asked while smiling at the bundle of joy in Chloe’s arms.

”Beca Jaymes Beale-Mitchell.” Chloe confidently stated, leaving Aubrey gaping for a few seconds

”J-Jaymes?” Aubrey stuttered as she ran the name over in her mind again. That was the name of her late husband.

”Yes, Bree. I named her after him, too. You both helped me through so much, and I wanted to honor him in a way.” Chloe explained with a huge grin on her face.

”I love you, Chloe.” Aubrey sobbed and kissed Chloe on the forehead.

”I love you too, Aubs,” Chloe said before returning her attention to Baby Beca in her arms.

“Support her head, Jake,” Chloe said as she passed the half-sleeping baby into his arms. Jacob started crying as he looked at her.

”What's wrong, bud?” Chloe asked, looking into his eyes. They were crystal blue, but not as bright as Chloe’s.

”She looks like Mama”

“C’mon BJ, time for school” Chloe shouted up the stairs and walked into the kitchen where Aubrey was currently fixing waffles. The women had formed a very strong connection in the years after their soulmates’ deaths. They weren’t together in a romantic sense, but they lived together, and to someone from the outside, it would seem as though they were married.

”Yeah, yeah, I’m coming” The moody 15 year old shouted back. Chloe just chuckled to herself. The girl had grown to look and act just like Beca as the years went by. After several minutes, the teen came moping down the stairs.

”Grab a waffle and go, you’re late,” Chloe said with a stern look. BJ nodded and started out the door. She stopped and turned around to look at the picture of her late mother again. Today was a particularly sad day for the whole family; It was Beca’s birthday. BJ smiled at the picture and whispered “I love you, Mama” before walking out the door.

”Look at my baby boy. Getting married, god, where has the time gone?” Chloe spoke to Aubrey as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I just wish Beca were here to see.”

”She is, Chlo. Not in the traditional sense, but she’s here.” Chloe nodded and went back to her drink. Chloe wasn’t keeping track of time, and soon enough, Nneka was walking down the aisle. Her dress was beautiful, it hugged her every curve and accentuated her breasts perfectly.

”You may now kiss the bride” Jacob enveloped Nneka in a loving kiss. Chloe started clapping and crying even harder as she watched her only son finally start truly living, with a wife of his own.

“Mom, I think I’m gay” BJ blurted out over dinner. Chloe dropped her fork but quickly recovered.

”Me too, ‘s no big deal. I’m glad you told me, honey. That’s a hard thing to do” Chloe smiled at the brunette girl.

”I don’t even know why I was scared to tell you” Chloe shrugged along with BJ “Hold on, backtrack. I thought you were pansexual?”

“I thought I was, but I’m not capable of loving anyone but your mother. If that makes me gay, so be it” Chloe explained without making eye contact. BJ knew this was a hard topic for her. Even after 16 years she still couldn’t love anyone else. No one compared to Beca. BJ placed a loving hand on her mother’s knee.

”You are just like her. I know I tell you this a lot, but you are an exact copy of Beca Mitchell. From the dark clothes, to the snippy attitude, to these ear monstrosities here-“ Chloe flicked BJ’s ear spike and she laughed at the memories of Aubrey and Beca in college, “-you are just like her. I just wish you knew her.”

BJ grinned at her mother and nodded. “I’ve seen so many pictures and videos it feels like I really do know her. I wish I could’ve met her” Chloe nodded and smiled at her daughter.

“I got in!” BJ shouted over the phone.

”Of course you did, you’re a legacy!” Chloe’s smile could be heard through the phone as her daughter did a small dance on the other line.

”You’ve come so far, I’m so proud of you”

“Oh god, first I had to give away my son, now I’ve gotta give away my daughter, too” Chloe whispered to herself as the bride, Nessa, began to walk down the aisle. BJ was standing in an all-white tux with a single rose in her pocket. Nessa had a flair of red across her collarbone. They were both so beautiful.

”I do,” BJ said, and she didn’t even need for him to say the words, she was already kissing her wife. The two 27 year olds got lost in the moment before coming back to reality and sheepishly smiling at their mothers.

The music was comprised of only Beca’s playlists, which in its self made Chloe cry. BJ climbed onto the stage “There’s a certain song I wanted to sing tonight. It goes all the way back to 2012 at Barden University. That was when my Mom fell in love with my Mama. This song is dedicated to my amazing Moms.”

The beginning notes of Titanium began to play on the stage, and Chloe instantly started sobbing. Aubrey placed a loving hand in the small of Chloe’s back. She sang along quietly and thought of Beca. All the bumps along the road, the messy parts of life were worth it, because she made the good part so much better. She was Chloe’s sunshine, even with her dark fashion choice.

”I love you Moms. I always will. Even when we’re not together, you’re a part of me, and It’ll always be there.” BJ smiled at the sky, then at Chloe when the song ended.

”Aubrey, do you ever regret this?” A weary, 68 year old Chloe asked. Aubrey looked confused. “I mean, do you regret not getting remarried?”

”Not at all. After Jaymes died, I realized I couldn’t love anyone else. I loved him so much I could barely breathe without him, so I knew no one could love me enough and have me return those feelings.” Aubrey replied with a shake to her voice.

”Me neither. I’m glad you’re here with me. I couldn’t have done it without you. Now my babies are all grown up and I’m missing Beca even more. I know I’ll see her soon, though.” Chloe smiled to herself at the thought of her wife.

”Don’t say that, Chlo. You still have a lot of life left to live. Don’t give up on me now” Aubrey chastised the red and white haired woman.

“I’m not giving up Bree, I promise”

Chloe didn’t stay true to her word. In the years following, she was waiting to leave so she could be with Beca. She wasn’t trying to die, but she was ready to go be with her loving wife again.

”Chloe, you have to go to the doctor.” Aubrey said as Chloe was taken over by another coughing spell. The coughing lasted several minutes and was accompanied by a sharp pain in the ribs.

”I’m fine”

”Chloe, you’re going to the doctor, now” Aubrey commanded and dragged Chloe to the door.

”I’m really fine, I promise.” Chloe was very obviously lying.

”No, you’re really not” Aubrey felt a tear run down her cheek as she watched the frail woman get into the car

“You have Mesothelioma, stage 4” The doctor gravely stated. Aubrey gasped.

”Stage 4? I-I don’t” Aubrey stuttered.

”It’s okay Bree. I was afraid this would happen. I let it go on too long.” Chloe silently cried into Aubrey’s shoulder.

”You have the option to undergo chemotherapy, but otherwise there’s nothing we can do. It’s already spread too far, we can’t remove it” The doctor had a sympathetic look on his face.

”Just let me go. Let me go in peace. Chemotherapy won’t do me any good.” Chloe wiped away Aubrey’s tears.

”I have been with you for 50 years, I’m not leaving you that easy, Chlo.” Aubrey determinedly stated.

”Bree, I’m dying already. Be grateful for the life we have while we still have it. I want to go home.”

Chloe’s last days were spent in pain. The cancer was spreading even further into her lungs. It was getting harder and harder to keep going. It had been 6 months since the diagnosis, and Chloe didn’t know how long she had left. She really didn’t want to know. As Chloe settled into bed, Aubrey began her nightly routine with Chloe.

”Goodnight Chloe. I love you so much. More than you can even imagine. I’ll see you later.” Aubrey leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Chloe dreamt of Beca and the Bellas. She remembered every touch, every kiss, every moment. She dreamt of meeting all the Bellas, of ICCAs, of every date they ever went on. She remembered it all.

...

”Hi, any interest in joining our a Capella group?” The bubbly read-head asked the sulking brunette.

”Oh, right, this is like a thing now” Aubrey was not amused by the girl’s tone, but Chloe was undeterred. She saw the potential in the mysterious woman.

...

”I’ve got more important things to do!” Beca shouted to no one in particular.

”What could be more important than this?” Chloe asked, bewildered.

”Nothing, forget it” Beca threw her hands up and turned around.

”No, you don’t think that we haven’t all realized you’ve been a little checked out lately?” Chloe borderline shouted at Beca.

”C'mon, Beca, just tell her.” Amy chimed in, to Beca’s dismay.

”I heard that, tell me what?” Chloe demanded.

”Oh, you misunderstood me, I clearly said rumpumpecker, ushmeller” Amy clarified, but Chloe didn’t pay attention.

“Listen, I don’t want you guys to fight. You’re Beca and Chloe. Together you’re Bhloe, and everyone loves a good bhloe.” Amy said, the girls ignoring her attempt at a joke.

“Okay, I have been interning at a recording studio, and a legit music producer wants to hear my work, God forbid I have something going on outside this group.” Beca broke down and told her.

”Okay, so why would you keep something like that from us-“ Chloe was cut off by a fuming Beca.

”’Cause you’re obsessed! You all are! We’re graduating and the only person thinking about life after the Bellas is me.” Beca looked at all the girls that were listening intently.

”What is so wrong with being focused on the Bellas? This has been my family for seven years.” Chloe retorted with a bite to her tone.

”Yeah cause you’re too scared to leave! Sack up, dude!” Beca shouted which earned a “Girl fight” from Cynthia Rose.

”Okay so you’ve been lying to us this whole year, and now you’re just gonna flake out? Now you’re just gonna flake out when the worlds is like right after graduation?” Chloe’s voice was straining to speak loud enough without crying.

”Oh my god! Enough about the worlds, I can’t- I am out of here.” Beca turned around to leave, heading straight for the bear trap.

”Oh okay, you’re just gonna leave now? You’re just-“ Chloe was cut off by Beca turning around and shouting.

”We all have to eventually Chloe. Might as well be now.” Beca turned back around and kept walking.

”Beca, the sign!” Emily shouted as Beca was taken into the air by a huge net.

”What the hell!” Beca screeched

...

“Hey guys,” Chloe said, waking in the door and taking off her coat.

”Why aren’t you guys ready?” Chloe questioned, seeing the casual attire the girls were dressed in.

”Why are you wearing that?!” Beca questioned with an accusing tone.

”What-“ Chloe started but was soon cut off by Beca.

”Did you wear that to work?!” Beca screeched, pointing a finger at her original Bellas uniform.

“Yeah, underneath my scrubs,” Chloe said, confidently smoothing out the wrinkles in her blazer.

”Oh, sweetie why?” Beca questioned, her mouth twisted into a confused grimace

“Because it reminds me I was special once,” Chloe said with a sad grin. ”and, you know, the Bellas reunion at the Brooklyn Aquarium”

”That’s tonight?!”

...

“What’s up, pitches!” Amy shouted as she spotted the other Bellas.

”I can’t wait for us to sing together,” Chloe said to the girls as she gave them all hugs.

”Hey Bellas!” Emily said as she walked up with the rest of the new Bellas

”What do you want us to sing tonight?” Chloe started rambling off song names.

”I brought this just in case” Chloe pulled a blue cup out of her bag to which Beca smacked it ferociously out of her hand. Emily watched it clatter to the ground

...

“Will you marry me?” Beca asked from her position on one knee. Chloe was speechless for what seemed like an eternity.

”Beca oh my God, yes!” Chloe squealed and pulled her into a kiss. She slipped the ring onto Chloe’s finger.

”I can’t believe this, Beca. I love you. So much.” Chloe cried as she spoke, still wrapped in Beca’s arms. It was a simple night, just a dinner at home with rose petals everywhere and fancy wine. It wasn’t much but it was perfect. It was home.

...

The wedding was gorgeous. It was on a beach, with red and white thrown around in a messy yet precise manner. Beca’s outfit consisted of a black blazer with a red lining, her bow tie was black and she had a pair of black and red heels on. Chloe had on a knee length dress, the sleeves see through with a floral pattern on them. Aubrey had agreed to be the officiant, so they were completely surrounded by all of their closest friends and family.

“Please be seated. First, I’d like to begin by welcoming everyone and thanking each and every one of you for being here on this most happy of days. It’s no accident that each of you are here today, and each of you were invited to be here because you represent someone important in the individual and collective lives of Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale.

“I truly can’t think of a better venue than this beautiful beach for an occasion that I know is not only monumental for the wedded-couple-to-be, but for all of us who are lucky to know and love them as individuals; but even more so as a perfect pairing.

“The most remarkable moment in life is when you meet the person who makes you feel complete. The person who makes the world a beautiful and magical place. The person with whom you share a bond so special that it transcends normal relationships and becomes something so pure and so wonderful, that you can’t imagine spending another day of your life without them. For Chloe, that happened about 9 years ago when she met me and we became best friends. I made it hard on her, of course, being the aca-nazi I am- yes I heard you call me that- I’m looking at you, Amy. But about 6 years ago she met Beca, who is pretty wonderful, too. I didn’t think so in the beginning, but she has indeed grown on me. I know how deeply these two care for and love one another, and I feel privileged to be here today among all of you as a witness of their commitment to a lifetime of love for one another.

“I think I’ve had the good fortune to meet most of you here today at some point or another, but for those of you whom I haven’t met, my name is Aubrey Posen, and I went to Barden University with both of these lovely ladies here.

“Now, Beca and Chloe have asked that I keep this speech short, classy, and family-friendly, and politely asked me to leave out stories that are unflattering to either of them. So I’ve had to redline stories about previous flings...drugs or alcohol...encounters with the police...but I do feel comfortable saying, “I told you so.” Which is exactly what I said when I learned that their relationship was becoming truly serious.

“As a third-party spectator to their developing love, it was extremely clear that the two of them represent a perfect pairing because each of them complements the other so well. They balance one another, and while each of them are tremendous individuals on their own, together they are even better. And being better together, as a team, a unit, and partners in crime, is what has been many years in the making and ultimately leads us to being here today, witnessing their commitment to one another in front of those they love most.

“I wish I could tell you a single story about Beca and Chloe that summarizes their relationship and how they enrich each other’s lives, and the lives of each of us, but the truth is there isn’t one single event that is a good encapsulation of what they mean to me, to each other, and to all of us. But what I do know is that both of them care deeply and passionately for each other; they protect each other; they make each other laugh and think outside themselves; that time magically seems to both fly and slow down when they’re together. They help each other in ways that are obvious and unnoticed, but always appreciated.

“I also know that it’s not just anyone with whom you can have communication with simply a look, or remember the weirdest names of each other’s Über drivers, or surprise each other with reservations at a restaurant you’ve been eyeing for years, or say “I’m sorry” every time it’s warranted ...eventually. They do that for and with each other.

“But it’s also my personal experiences with Beca and Chloe that highlight the quality of their love. It doesn’t matter if I’m with them in person, or simply in a bizarre group text with them and the Bellas—when I’m engaging with Beca and Chloe, I am always enjoying myself. And I am certain that that’s part of what makes them so special to each of us: how happy and contented we feel when we are with them. And what I wish for them on their wedding day is that their lifetime together as a team is one of complete contentment; full of those moments that they wish would never end, and that they continue to make one another smile and laugh as they make each of us do.

“So, without further ado… Dearly beloved and honored guests, we are gathered together here to join Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale in the union of marriage. This contract is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously, and with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities. The brides have each prepared vows that they will read now.“

Beca took a deep breath and steadied herself. “Chloe, you were my reason back then, my reason now, my reason every day. You strengthen my weaknesses, bring focus to my dreams. You are why I am living. Without you, I’d survive, but that is all I would be capable of. I wouldn’t be me without you. Here and now I pledge my life to yours, that your dreams become my dreams. No matter where life leads me, I know that as long as you are there, that is where I am meant to be.”

Chloe was crying by the time she had to say her vows. She didn’t even try to wipe them away. “Beca, you have been my best friend, mentor, playmate, confidant, and my greatest challenge. But most importantly, you are the love of my life and you make me happier than I could ever imagine and more loved than I ever thought possible. You have made me a better person, as our love for one another is reflected in the way I live my life. So I am truly blessed to be a part of your life, which as of today becomes our life together.”

Beca had tears streaming down her face by the time Chloe finished. She was so ready for this wonderful life they would make together. Aubrey cleared her throat.

“And now... Beca Mitchell, do you take Chloe Beale to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?“

“I do.”

“And Chloe Beale do you take Beca Mitchell to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?“

“I do.”

“Beca and Chloe will now exchange rings as a symbol of love and commitment to each other. Rings are a precious metal; they are also made precious by you wearing them. Your wedding rings are special; they enhance who you are. They mark the beginning of your long journey together. Your wedding ring is a circle—a symbol of love never ending. It is the seal of the vows you have just taken to love each other without end. Beca, please place the ring on Chloe’s left hand and repeat after me:

“As a sign of my love, that I have chosen you above all else, with this ring, I thee wed.”

Beca repeated at all the right times, allowing herself to cry freely.

“And Chloe, please place the ring on Beca’s left hand and repeat after me:

“As a sign of my love that I have chosen you above all else, with this ring, I thee wed.“

Chloe said as she was told.

”To make your relationship work will take love. Continue to date each other. Take time to show each other that your love and marriage grows stronger with time. It will take trust to know that in your hearts, you truly want what is best for each other. It will take dedication to stay open to one another—and to learn and grow together. It will take loyalty to go forward together, without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment to hold true to the journey you have both pledged today.

“Now by the power vested in me by the state of California, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. Go forth and live each day to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.“

Beca pulled Chloe into a passionate kiss, blocking out all other senses other than the feeling of Mrs. Beale-Mitchell’s lips against her own. At that moment, nothing else mattered.

...

”I’m pregnant” Chloe blurted out one day while on a picnic with Beca. Beca whipped her head around to face her and met the glistening eyes of the love of her life.

”It worked?!” Beca exclaimed and pulled Chloe into a huge hug. Chloe had insisted on carrying the baby. She wanted to carry all of them. She always wanted to be a mother. Beca ran over to the edge of the cliff and took in a deep breath.

”I’m gonna be a daddy!” Beca shouted at the top of her lungs into the air. The city was below, the lights glinting off of windows of buildings. Chloe chuckled at Beca’s antics.

”You’re gonna be the best daddy ever.” Chloe told Beca confidently and she grinned.

”I can’t believe this, baby. We’re gonna have a kid. I’m so happy.” Beca peppered Chloe’s face with kisses and they stayed in each other's arms for as long as possible before they had to go back home

...

“You got this baby, just push. He’s almost here. You’re doing amazing, honey” Beca said in a gentle voice. Her wife wasn’t being so gentle on her hand, but she felt the need to soothe her. The cries of a newborn baby boy were like music to her ears.

”He looks just like you, Chloe.” Beca looked at the boy and smiled. He was just like a mini Chloe.

”What’re you gonna name him?” Sheila called from the corner of the room. She and Beca had become closer since college. She had no ill will towards her or Warren.

”Jacob Warren Beale-Mitchell,” Chloe said and looked at Beca’s father with a smile. He sputtered and smiled even wider at the name choice.

”My Jakey” Beca cooed at the baby

...

”Becs, guess what?” Chloe said one day at dinner.

”I’m pregnant” Beca’s fork stopped between her mouth and the plate.

”R-really? It worked again?” Beca asked with a smile.

”Yeah, it did. We’re gonna have another baby”

...

”Chloe, I’m gonna take Jake to work today, he wants to watch me work and meet my clients” Beca said as she grabbed an apple from the counter.

”Alright honey, be careful driving.” Chloe kissed Beca chastely before pulling away and resting her forehead against Beca’s. Beca placed her hands on Chloe’s pregnant belly and kissed it. “Bye baby girl” Beca whispered to the growing baby in her wife’s abdomen.

”I always am. I love you.”

“Love you too, babe”

"Alright kiddo, let’s blow this popsicle stand” Jacob laughed at his mother, a boisterous, carefree sound.

”Love you Jacob,” Chloe said and kissed his cheek.

”Love you too, Mom,” He said and hugged her goodbye.

...

Chloe’s life had been filled with hardships, but she also had love, companionship, and a wonderful group of ladies that were there for her always.

Chloe passed away in her sleep that evening. The last thing she saw before the world faded to black was a vivid mental image of her wife smiling back at her.

“Welcome home, Chloe.”

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julesby10 · 4 years

Text

i am easy to find

A/N: Hello again! Here’s a very late ShinoMitsu Week Day 2 entry! Prompt was insecurities / healing, taking care of each other.

Slightly more angsty than last time but hey.

Yet again, took inspiration from one of @tanukified ‘s drawings, but the drawing itself couldn’t be farther from what I wrote oops

Rating: G

Tags: Fluff, almost canon compliant, hurt/comfrt, late at night, insecurities

Summary: Shinobu has a tendency to lose track of time, staying up late into the night to work on her notes. Mitsuri is recovering from an injury at the Butterfly Estate.Mitsuri tries to talk Shinobu out of her self-destructive tendencies, but maybe she isn't ready just yet.

AO3 | FF.NET

The hallways of the Butterfly Estate were shrouded in darkness and silence. It was the middle of the night and Mitsuri was being very careful not to make any noise, to avoid disturbing all the other residents who were, supposedly, still sleeping. She usually wasn’t much of a night owl, but she’d abruptly woken up with this weird sense of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach and felt like she needed to get out of the stifling infirmary.

Honestly, she expected to be the only one awake, but a very small part of her wasn’t surprised when she noticed a blade of light coming from under the door of Shinobu’s private study.

Mitsuri should have really gone back to bed, an early morning was waiting for her and she wasn’t even supposed to be up in the first place. Shinobu had very clearly instructed her to rest as much as possible until her shoulder was fully healed. She could feel the bandages brush against the burned skin, but she also knew why Shinobu was awake and she had no intention of leaving her alone.

She headed for the door and carefully slid it open. The room was mostly dark except for the corner where Shinobu’s desk was, her silhouette outlined by the light of a single lantern. She was still wearing her hashira uniform, her haori neatly placed on its stand on the side when Mitsuri was used to seeing it on her shoulders. She cared so much for it and for a reason.

Seeing her at her desk was far from an uncommon occurrence. Shinobu had a bad habit of overworking herself to the point of almost physically collapsing until someone, usually either Mitsuri or Kanao, forced her to rest, sleep, eat. It was a cycle that seemed very hard to actually break. Plus Shinobu was stubborn as much as she was hardworking.

Mitsuri closed the door behind her and took a few steps into the room, fully convinced Shinobu would hear her, as she always did, and scold her for being there. Nothing happened, though, which was odd in and of itself. She got closer to the point she was standing in Shinobu’s peripheral. Still nothing, Shinobu was silently scribbling away at her notes.

“Shinobu?”

Shinobu jumped up from her chair, her pen falling out of her grip and clattering on the ground. Mitsuri looked down with concern in her eyes. Two buttons of her uniform were undone and her sleeves were rolled up which, to anyone else, would have been small details, easy to miss, but to Mitsuri it was a sign that not everything was at it should’ve been. She could count on one hand the times she’d seen Shinobu with a less than perfect attire. And then there were the bags under her eyes and her chapped lips. It looked like she’d been biting on them.

Mitsuri knew first-hand what self-destructive looked like and, even when Shinobu pretended she had it all under control, sometimes it felt like she really didn’t.

When Shinobu registered that it was only Mitsuri next to her she relaxed.

“Heavens, Mitsuri, you scared me.”

She sighed and brought a hand to her temple with a grimace as if trying to keep a headache at bay. Then she lifted her eyes to Mitsuri again and spoke in a rough voice, lower than her usual pitch. Another sign that she was way too tired to be awake.

“What time is it anyway? And why are you up?”

Her notes were scattered all over her desk, countless sheets of paper filled with neat writing, formulas and dosages that would never make any sense to Mitsuri. In all honesty, few could really understand the complicated chemistry Shinobu treaded around so casually. She’d mastered the craft of making poisons to the point where it had become an art. The art of killing.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mitsuri said softly, placing her hand on Shinobu’s shoulder, dragging her touch over the stiff muscles in her back. “How long have you been up?”

Shinobu seemed to loosen up her posture slightly.

“I don’t know. Yesterday?”

Mitsuri moved her hand to Shinobu’s cheek and Shinobu leaned into the contact, closing her eyes. The small flame of the lantern cast pretty shadows on her skin, but they only highlighted how pale she was.

“Shinobu, it’s almost dawn , you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Silence fell between them. They’d talked about this, how pushing herself to her limits was nothing but dangerous. What if Shinobu was suddenly called on an assignment? What if she was too tired to fight? What if she got injured? What if-

“You know I can’t stop,” Shinobu murmured, breaking the quiet. “This is... the only thing I can do.”

Everyone was aware that Shinobu wasn’t physically strong enough to cut a demon’s head off, but no one had ever held that against her. She was perfect with her poisons so there was no reason for critique. Except she didn’t seem keen on thinking the same.

They did share that trait, being too strict on themselves, but Mitsuri had learned to be forgiving thanks to Shinobu and her words, the way she just cared. She had shown Mitsuri that she had value, as a person and not just as a pretty doll to be given away in marriage, that she had no reason to be ashamed of her body or her eating or anything, really. Mitsuri had learned to not resent her strength, she wished Shinobu could learn to not resent her weaknesses either.

Taking another step, Mitsuri pulled Shinobu into a gentle hug. It was at a weird angle, but Shinobu didn’t seem to mind as she gripped the back of Mitsuri’s nightgown. Mitsuri’s heart ached.

“Oh Shinobu, you are so, so much more than the things you can do. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, how much you mean to me," Mitsuri whispered into her hair.

Shinobu never cried. Shinobu never let down her defenses, except when Mitsuri was there, because Mitsuri was so painfully honest it was hard to hide anything in front of her.

Shinobu didn’t cry, but Mitsuri felt her shake in her embrace, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. The nights that were quiet made it easy to fall apart.

After a few minutes, the room was silent again.

“C’mon,” Mitsuri said, tugging her up and into her arms. "Let's bring you to bed."

Shinobu sighed into the embrace, leaning all her weight into the contact, still careful to avoid Mitsuri’s injured side. If there was one thing Mitsuri was grateful for, it was the way Shinobu had learned, albeit begrudgingly, to lower her walls when it was just the two of them. She loathed feeling weak, yet she allowed Mitsuri to see her when she was not as strong.

“As your doctor, I think you should really go back to the infirmary,” Shinobu murmured in her chest. “But I’ll let it slide this time.”

“As if you’re in any place to say anything about taking care of myself,” Mitsuri retorted, a smile at the corners of her green eyes. The way the light reflected in them was mesmerizing, so much Shinobu could’ve spent the rest of the night like that if only sleep hadn’t been aggressively creeping up her spine. She felt at peace with Mitsuri around.

“Fine, but I’ll need to change your bandages first thing in the morning.”

Shinobu looked beautiful, even with the heavy weight of her worries on her shoulders, even when she was this tired and vulnerable.

“Can’t say no to my doctor, can I?” Mitsuri smiled, then bent down to catch Shinobu’s lips. The kiss was brief, but extremely sweet, as if Shinobu was being careful. Mitsuri didn't have any explanation for that, but, then again, she didn't have an explanation for why Shinobu tasted like flowers either.

When Mitsuri looked again, Shinobu was looking up at her with fondness, a pinch of something Mitsuri couldn't quite recognize in the corner of her amethyst eyes. Sadness maybe?

Shinobu swallowed and her irises seemed to clear. "You know I love you, right?"

Mitsuri smiled softly. "I know," and kissed her again, one hand carefully freeing her hair from the butterfly pin and then placing it on the desk. "And I love you too, so much."

Shinobu smiled then, and Mitsuri knew it was not out of courtesy. It was small, but it was there and it was genuine.

Mitsuri quickly took care of the lantern as Shinobu changed into something that wasn't her uniform. They would need to wake up soon, but it didn't matter, not now. As they lay under the covers, all tangled limbs and warmth, what mattered was that they were together.

As Mitsuri closed her eyes, she noticed the bad feeling that had woken her up was gone.

#shinomitsuweek2020 #shinomitsu #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #kny #kocho shinobu #kanroji mitsuri #kny shinobu #kny mitsuri #kny fic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfiction #my writing

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instantlyexhaustedowl · 4 years

Text

"He was my first love... And only one."

Summary:

Old photos, one old love and two not that old twins. A bit of talking after Weirmaggedon. Stan listening to his bro-bro memories about college lover.

Notes:

Please be kind to me, it's my first fanfic in English and also my first fanfic i have ever posted.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580418

Ford was nostalgically sorting old photoes. Wrinkled paper gently rustled in his weary hands. All those memories, forgotten things with distand feeling of lost love, whole past in his worn out hands. "Ya look sad, bro," Stan's voice broke the silence of Ford's room. His twin was looking at him with curious brown eyes covered with thick glasses. He leaned on the doorframe.

Older twin smiled sligtly, running his polydactyl hands thru grey hairs. Fingers touched silver stripe that cut thru dark grey hairs. He felt suddenly old and exhausted. "Just... Overthinking past, i guess." He patted spot on the sofa next to himself, showing that companion is welcome.

"Pics?" asked carefully Stanley. His mind was still a bit wobbly, but he remembered nearly everything. Definitely good sign. Stan sheepishly sat next to Ford on the sofa. Old matress swayed under his weight and caused, that Ford leaned a bit agaist Stan's shoulder. "What? Oh, yeah... Pictures. Old ones." said author of the journals with sigh while his hands gently folded photos on the lap. "Hehe, 'm probably not in your colection,... Hey that one... that guy looks cute," chuckled his brother. He pointed at picture of tall smiling boy, maybe a bit older than twenty-one. Long sand blond hair, big blue eyes brightly shining with happines were hinding partly behind small round glasses. That noodle nerd had two daysies tucked behind his ear, big smile on his face. He looked like hippie college student. "Yeah... Fantastic old friend of mine. Wait! It...He is a man. Why do you think he is cute?" suddenly asked Ford. Stan was ladies man. Why he would think something like that?! Stanley blushed. His eyes wondered over room. Now seemed every piece of furniture like super interesting. "Ehh...No comment?" "No Stanley. We should be more honest with each other. We spend enought of our time pushing each other away. I just want to know why do you think that. No judgement, only curiosity." Old man mumbled something. Then he scooted away from Ford. Scietinst seemed a bit concerned. His brother was always the one who wanted to feel the others presence, but this was different. He was suddenly so shy. Ford like physical contact too but only from persons he loved and liked. Stanley was different- he loved patting peoples shoulder, hugging them even thou they were strangers. His attention was like contact sport. And sometimes it could change into one when that person made him angry. Ford's attention thou. It was more about reading between lines. "Pardon, Lee? I didn't understand." "I said... That i dated men too," sighed Stanley. His fingers were twiching. Eyes were trying to burned thru the floor into the heart of the Earth. He made himself look tiny. Whole body curled into himself. Ford's mouth formed into small silent "oh". "'m sorry... Gonna vanish, don't worry." "Are you crazy, Lee?! No vanishing, no going away." "But..." it was strange. Stanley could brake a montain with bare hands and now... He looked so vulnurable. Like scared teen he once was- standing outside in the middle of warm spring night hoping that Ford could forgive him. "But 'm nothing just familly disapointment. Stupid big idiot and even gay..." "If you say it one more time, i will punch you. Without warning! You are not disapointment! You are my best friend i have ever had and best twin brother i could wish for!" "Poindexer, i am weird old fag!" "Probably not. And that is absolutely horrible word, do not use it, please! You did loved Carla, hm." "And some other girls..." admited Stanley with blush of embarassment. "So you are bisexual. You like both." "'m not picky type," shrugged younger brother with hint of smile. He seemed more comfortable now. Hands put on his knees, eyes still sticked to the ground but he didn't look like persone who wanted to crawl under the rock and stay there for next few milleniums. "I am fag... At least that would Pa called me... If he had knew about it..." "That explains lots of things... And highschool," mumbled Stan scooting back so they shoulders touched again. "Pardon me?!" shrieked Ford. "You were curious only about science. And why girls didn't talk to you! Nothing was about girls, only why they kept ignoring you," explained Stan. Ford blinked few times, his face making pretty good impression of confuesed owl. Stanley was smugly smiling: "I've knew the whole time that you are not straight. 'm glad that Pa never knew about it thou. He would kick ya out too, maybe beat ya...Ya would never make it out unharm, on the streets..." "You were the one that ended up there... I can not forgive myself," two big tears started to roll down. Ford tried to dry them with his sleeve. "Poindexter, let it be. We are here, we are good..." "And gay," added Ford with tiny smile. Roaring of Stan's laught filled the room: "YEAH, we are gay! SO ... Who was that cutie? First crush?" His eyebrows wiggled in devilish way. "First crush, first love and only one. He took my heart without asking and never gave it back..." His brother wrapped arm around his shoulders. "You are old sappy man, Ford." "I know. I... Everything could be so different." "What happened?" asked younger twin. He hated seeing Ford depressed. "First time he went back to his family, after a while he had one too. And later when we found each other... Portal happened." "Sixer! I ... I caused...! Did I....?" Stanford grabbed old photos. He hold them on his chest, close to his fast-beating heart. "It was my fault, we had huge arguement and split up. I should have listened to him, but i was the biggest idiot on this Earth!" Stanley suddenly gasped. "You were dating McGucket?! Old man MCGUCKET?! Oh holy hot Belgian waffles!" "Kids aren't home," snarkyly pointed out Ford still carressing his pictures. "In that case- FUCK!" Small smile crept on scientist's face. "May i tell you a story, Lee?" asked Ford. He looked way younger now. Shy blush on his cheeks, still a bit teary eyes behind glasses. But they were light up with memories. "Yep, ya nerd. I haven't heard romantic novel for a long time! Ok i saw one last night. But i want to hear yar romance," beamed happily Stan and made himsleft comfortable. He was now sprawled on sofa, legs streched infront of him, hands folded on his soft belly. "So...Tell me yar fairytale, bro-bro." "Lee you are so silly," nudged Stan's elbow Ford playfully. "Fine. Long time ago... Ok, i am really getting old and silly. We were college roomates. I liked him first time i saw him. He was true opposite of me. Emotinal, empathic, wonderfully talented. His genius was amazing. After a while we got closer and closer. Fidds was so carring, nearly motherly. You should saw him when i was ill. I phoned dad, that i needed some money... to see a doctor, cause i felt really awful. He... shouted at me- to be a man and sleep it off. So i tried it. And fainthed during one of our classes we had together. Fidds did knew what to do, he took care about me. Got me to our room, helped in bed where i stayed for next week barely knowing about world. I don't remember much, my fever was too high. All seemed like a dream. After i got better i found him sitting on the window frame. His eyes were looking into starry night, silently crying. He was aftraid about me whole week and...He finally snapped... We started dating few days later." Ford had tears on his cheeks while he hold old pictures like precious treasure. His hands were clutching them, only gems he had from his past. Someone knock on the door frame. Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket stood there. He was dressed in jeans, silly shirt with watermelons and drinks on it. He had crazy bowler hat with daisy that kept danggling. Still with beard that could belong to the oldest wizzard in the Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons, but under it was hidden smile. "I swear Stanferd, ma biggest mistake was leaving ya. And i fool made it twice!" Stanley looked at them with squint eyes trying to seem like he fall asleep. "Stop foolin' us, ya'r great conman, but that's horrible try," laugh Fidds hopping on the sofa from Ford's free side. He covered one six-fingered hand with his small one. They fitted perfectly, like two pieces of puzzles. Maybe their hands were a bit cold, but hearts were still aflame with passion and love. "I guess now i've to keep an eye on two nerds," sighed Stanley. "Have fun ya two, i am gonna go to... Don't know. Want a coffee?" "Yeah we will join you," smiled Ford when Fiddleford hugged his waist. "Yej, coffee is great idea pals!" "Gentlemen, we will have gayffee party!" clasped his big hands Stanley and went to the kitchen, chuckling because he liked that new horrible pun. Ford froze a bit and then shouted: "Do not tell this term in front of Mable! Or we all end up covered in rainbow glitters! I don't mind them but i certainly don't like to drink them with my coffee!" "WHO SAID SOMETHING ABOUT RAINBOW GLITTEEEEEERS???????!" "Mabel, calm down! Honey, put that bottle of rainbow disaster down!"

#grunkle stan #grunkle ford #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #not a stancest #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddle/author #Fidlleauthor #fiddleford+ford #my fanfinction #fiddauthor

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spencerreidshortstories · 4 years

Text

The Way You Met

Description: This is how Spencer meets his future girlfriend.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None for this one

"Enjoy your three-day weekend," Hotch said as Spencer and Emily got onto the elevator that led out of the BAU department of the FBI bureau at Quantico.

They rarely had time off, but each of the team members tried to take time for themselves when they did. Sometimes they went out together to unwind, but for the most part they needed space. They spent so much time with each other at work, it was healthy to get away from each other for a while.

Hotch and JJ had families to go home to. Morgan had girls he wanted to see. Rossi had more money than he knew what to do with. Penelope did . . . technology stuff that Spencer didn't understand – he was a genius but he also was a paper type of person; he wasn't great with technology. Emily sometimes went out, but she also spent time with her cat, Sergio.

Spencer had a list of things he could do on his own when he had time off: chess in the park, going to a book store or a library, reading at home, watching one of his favorite shows. He would've loved to have been able to do those things with his team, but most of them were not into the same things he was.

Spencer was planning on going to the library on his way home so he could have new books to read over the weekend. Most of the time he went to the library, got a batch of books to take home, and then he would go to the bookstore and buy the ones he liked the most. He took longer to read books he read for fun because he wanted to savor them, but he could still read faster than anyone else he knew.

The people who worked in the library all knew him by name now and even asked him his opinion when he brought books back. He tried not to spoil anything but still be honest when he talked about what he'd read.

He had been buried in the stacks for over an hour when he heard soft muttering coming from the aisle in front of him. The voice belonged to a female, strong but also quiet, and she seemed to be struggling with something if the irritated, "Seriously," he heard was anything to go by.

He listened for about a minute before going to see what was going on that was worth getting irritated over, and that was when he saw her. A young woman was there, a small basket of books at her feet, and she was reaching for a book on the top shelf. She was on the short side and she was having trouble.

"Would you like me to get that for you?"

The woman startled and quickly turned to face him. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open as if she'd been about to make a noise, but she brought her hand up to block it.

"I'm, uh – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

She shook her head and brought her hand away from her mouth so she could speak. "No, it's – it's fine. I wasn't paying attention." She looked up at the top shelf. "Could you? It's, um, the one by Wilkie Collins. Moonstone."

Spencer had no problem reaching it and she thanked him when he handed it over.

"So, uh, what drew you to this? It's not a bestseller and it's likely that not a lot of people have heard of it."

"Oh, I haven't heard of it either. I just, um . . . I'm trying out different authors. One or two from a different one every time I come here to check out books. I like seeing the different writing styles. Plus, if you read enough of one person you kind of pick up on the pattern they use and then the book becomes predictable."

Spencer looked down and noticed her choices – mystery, medical, historical, fantasy. There were about ten books in all. The library allowed books to be checked out for a total of three weeks.

"Are you actually going to read all of those?"

He noticed her cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Probably not. I get so many because if I get bored with one, I won't finish reading it. This way I don't have to come back so soon. I've tried each genre and these are usually my go-to ones. Fantasy is my all-time favorite because reality sucks and I need to get away sometimes, and I was kind of skeptical to try the medical ones because I . . . have no real knowledge of medicine, but they've been good so far. I even read one about how some doctor set out to prove that the Salem Witch trials were actually caused by people hallucinating after consuming poppy seed."

"That's probably not accurate," Spencer said. "Poppy seed comes from the opium poppy, which is used in morphine, heroine, and codeine. They've been known to cause lightheadedness, drowsiness, nausea, stomach ache, and itchy skin. I don't think it's supposed to cause hallucinations."

"Oh. Well, good thing it was fictional and not factual or someone would be having a bad day in the science world." She placed the book in her basket. "Are you – are you a doctor or something?"

This time Spencer was the one with the pink cheeks.

"Not a medical one, but I do have Dr. in front of my name. Spencer Reid."

"Spencer," she said. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

She told him her name as well. He noticed she didn't try to shake his hand and wondered if her reason was the same as his.

"Thank you again for getting that book for me. The whole world discriminates against short people."

"Actually, the average height for women over twenty is five-feet-four-inches. You were only off by maybe two."

The woman shook her head and grinned. "Says the really tall guy."

"I am above average in height, yes."

"Oh, he brags."

"Is – is it really bragging if it's true, though?"

Spencer was enjoying himself with the quick back and forth with this woman. There was a playfulness in her eyes, but there was also a warm type of intelligence that he found himself wanting to get to know. It was something that was totally different and set apart from what he had to deal with at work and he knew that was why he was being drawn to it.

"Hey, um, I hope this isn't weird or forward, but would you like to maybe get coffee sometime? I – I've enjoyed talking to you. I don't often come across a fellow book-lover."

She smiled and he noticed it reached her eyes. They kind of sparkled.

"I would like that. I totally understand about not finding many people who like to read – or at least not as much as I like to read."

She pulled out her phone and let him put his number in it and then she texted him right away so he would have hers. He liked that she did it right away; he didn't have to worry if she was ever going to contact him.

They talked a little bit more about books as he began picking his selection out as well. He stuck with non-fiction and science-fiction and then they walked up to the front to check the books out.

When they made it through the line and out the door of the library she turned to him and said, "So . . . were you wanting to go this weekend, or . . . ?"

"Uh, that's fine. I have all weekend off."

She sent him a small smile. "Me too. Um . . . so morning or evening or . . . ?"

"Honestly, I like to sleep in when I can, so it probably won't be before noon."

"Ah, fellow night-owl, huh?"

"Yeah, it's –"

"The night is peaceful. No one's around making unnecessary noise. Other people are usually sleeping so they're not bothering you either – or maybe not bothering, maybe that's too harsh of a word. It's more -

Spencer furrowed his brow. "Quiet?"

"Yeah. Like I said, peaceful. But, uh, after noon it is. Just, you know, call or text to let me know when."

"I'll definitely call."

He hated texting.

She nodded, resituated her basket of books – so the basket obviously belonged to her – and gave him a small wave before taking off in the direction of the parking lot.

It was weird, but he almost couldn't wait to have coffee with her, couldn't wait to get to know her better, talk to her about other things.

He'd had crushes before, of course, and he hadn't ever really talked to most of them, but he had talked to her and he'd really liked what she'd had to say.

He really couldn't wait to have coffee with her.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x ofc #criminal minds

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the-shadow-of-atlantis · 5 years

Text

Truth in Blood

Summary: Annabella discovers the truth

Tagging: @lizartgurl @thespacebuns @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @gobydana @speedypan

Part 1 Here

Smack! Annabella groaned from the impact, feeling her body pressed against a cold hard floor that was definitely not her bedroom floor. Quickly getting up she looked around the place.

The floor was made of hard smooth wood with carvings etched into it, making it resemble the calendar on the box. Around the edges of the circle were aisles with shelves that stretched out like spokes on a wheel filled with thousands of books. Within the circle were several wooden tables all bare and a bit dusty. At the edge witching the circle boundaries was a small podium with a slab of rock perched on top of it.

A slight chill ran through her as she took a few cautious steps. The place almost felt alive and that was a bit unsettling.

“Hello?” She finally called out as she reached the small podium.

The letters in the rock shifted themselves from whatever language they were in to English.

Level 1 Library

Level 2 Potions

Level 3 Crystals

Level 4 Practice Room

Frowning Annabella looked up and noticed a orden ring above where the circle fit perfectly.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” Annabella tried again as she looked around.

“Of course I can hear you cariño, I’ll always be here for you.”

Annabella jumped and crashed into the podium that tipped over and made the slab crack, however it simply repaired itself. She felt the blood rush from her face, she knew that voice.

“Abuelita?” She breathed out as she tried to understand what was happening. “What… what is this? What’s going on?”

“Four years ago I told you that when the time was right this box would give you the answers you seek, that time has finally come.”

Annabella looked down trying to process what was happening. Her hands trembled though she was not sure if it was from shock or anger.

“You died four years ago. How am I hearing your voice? What is this place?”

“Perhaps it would be easier to show you. Level 4 please.”

The room rumbled and shifted, slowly the platform began to rise. She managed to catch glimpses of the other levels which looked similar to the first level just with different objects. However the last room was completely dark.

Light flooded the room making Annabella cover her eyes. When she opened them she found herself in the middle of an ancient village a small group group group of people huddled together watching someone shifting smoke from a dark round stone.

“You come from a long line of sorcerers and sorceresses dating back to ancient times.”

The scene shifted and she saw a small group of people go through what seemed like a maze.

“When a new generation is born a trial is held to determine who will continue the bloodline. I was the one who won the trial for my generation.”

Annabella was suddenly face to face with a young version of her grandmother.

“Everyone gets to choose what they want to do with their magic. Many choose to stay and continue their studies, I chose to help people so I moved to the streets and became a nurse in the army. I thought I was doing a good job hiding my powers.”

She saw her grandmother tending to wounded soldiers but could see a very faint glow when she would apply the bandage. She watched as her grandmother moved to a back room to clean herself up.

“Miss Robles?”

Annabella turned around and her eyes widened as she took in the costume of the man and his owl perched on his shoulder.

“Wait that’s… that’s Dr. Midnight.”

“Yes he recruited me for the JSA, he’s also your grandfather.”

“What?” Annabella looked around frantically. “That’s impossible, I’ve gone through all the JSA records. You’re not in any of them. And there’s no record of Dr. Midnight ever getting married.”

She tried to remember the file photos, tried to remember the pictures her grandmother showed her of her grandfather. She tried to make sense of it all, tried to piece the puzzle together but there was pieces missing.

“Your father must have changed that.” Her grandmother grumbled.

“Why?!” Annabella shouted. “Why would he keep that from me?!.. why would you?”

“Because of what happened afterwards.”

The scene shifted and Annabella was standing face to face with her grandmother along with her grandfather but this time she was holding a baby in her arms.

“We went back to my home town after the war, settled down, started a family. We were happy your grandfather became a local doctor and I helped. Your mother was our first born she was a bit of a wild child but we loved her. She had developed her magic by the time she was four but could be a bit unpredictable with it. We tried our best to help her, I tried my best to teach her about her magic. But I’ll admit I got a bit sidetracked when we had your uncle. Acting became her outlet, and we encouraged it, she loved it and it helped her.”

Annabella saw as her mother began to grow, she saw as she got ready for auditions, and how she would practice her magic.

“But then she began to grow ambitious, wanting roles but using her magic to get them. I tried to stop her but she just wouldn't listen, at least not until our youngest was born.”

She saw her mother around 10 holding a little baby in her arms with a smile.

“She would do just about anything for him, but he was so well developed for his age. His magic was so advanced I had never seen anything quite like it. I think your mother saw that too, and I don't know if she got scared or jealous but she began to draw away from us again. Getting into her acting but also doing things she shouldn't have with her magic. We tried to stop her but she had gone in too deep.”

“What did she do?” Annabella asked feeling her legs tremble a tug of a bad memory wanting to pull through but she couldn’t remember what.

“She made deals with bad people but never honored them. The last deal she made was with someone who didn’t tolerate loopholes. They came looking to get even, my son and husband died in the process. She blamed me for not trying hard enough to save them, especially her brother. She resented me ever since.”

Annabella was suddenly staring down at two tombstones.

“Afterwards the trial had been done and she won. Once she got the claim she left and I never saw her. Occasionally she'd still make appearances in shows or movies but I never once heard from her. Not until she was pregnant with you.”

“Me?” Annabella heard her grandmother sigh.

“She met your father during an event and put him into a trance to spend a night with her. However she underestimated the power of the trance and she had you.”

Annabella saw her mother on a couch a smug look on her face.

“What do you mean you are pregnant?” Her grandmother asked.

“I used a trance on Bruce Wayne but now I’m pregnant with his child.”

“And what are you going to do with the child?”

“I’m not sure yet. There’s so many possibilities with a new born child.”

“You’re going to give it up?” Her grandmother nearly shouted.

“To the right person. For the right price.”

“You know I will not condone this.”

“I just need help until I give birth to it.”

“The father has a right to know.”

“Please he’s not going to want it.”

“You do not know that.”

“I contacted your father soon after that. Your mother was mad since he made it clear he was going to take you with him. So she… tried to get rid of you. She figured if she couldn’t use you then no one could have you.”

Annabella say her grandmother rushing her mother to a hospital.

“I was not going to let another life be taken for her mistakes so I made a deal.”

She saw her grandmother standing in the woods drawing a circle with different symbols. She saw a shadow begin to form in the center.

“I spoke to our god pleaded with him to save you. Sacrificed jaguar blood in his honor. He accepted he didn’t like how your mother was tainting his name and so he stripped her of her magic and gave it straight to you along with other gifts to help you survive.”

“My powers.” Annabella whispered.

“Exactly, though he was not able to save most of you, hence the reason for your slight asthma. But he gave you strength to survive, to grow, to evolve. Under one condition i could not tell you of your magic until you were ready. I accepted, when I went back in to see how you were doing your father had confirmed who I was before and who your grandfather was. I told him everything about what had happened and what led to that moment. We made another deal that you would live with him until you were five and then I'd be allowed to visit you. We wanted to keep you away from your mother.”

“Why? Why keep my magic away? Why not tell me the truth about her?”

“Your mother wanted your blood. She wanted to use you for her own gain. We didn’t want her anywhere near you for fear of what she’d do. Don’t you remarried what she did when you were 7?”

“You mean she kidnapped me?”

Annabella tried to remember but that memory was always faulty. She could only remember glimpse of it. She remembered the drive she remembered escaping and being shot at… no wait, bullets don’t explode in green when they hit the ground. She remembered being hit by something, something that stung but she wasn’t completely unconscious. Then she remembered, the chanting, the cut of the knife she got on her chest, how she felt herself getting weak.

“What… what did she do to me?”

“She tried to take your life force away so she could bring back her brother.”

“But why wipe my memory of that? Why… why not just tell me the truth?”

“We didn’t want to risk your mother hurting you again.”

Suddenly more memories came rushing back. The time Constantine babysat her and she held a globe that glowed in her hands. Her memories of when she went with the team to check on Kent Nealson and she got separated from the team.

“What about the other times?” Annabella asked.

“What other times?”

“The other times where I almost discovered my magic? The other times my memories have been erased.”

“There have been other times?”

“You… you didn’t know?”

“No… I told your father I was under oath I could not tell you the truth and that we had to be careful. I never knew there were other times.”

Annabella’s head swirled with the information dump she just got. She had magic, she's had magic this whole time but she never knew because it was kept from her. The whole reason her mother wanted her dead was because she wanted it back. Her father went so far as to wipe her memories if she'd even get they slightest hint that she would discover her magic.

She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t think. He lied when she tried to look for the truth. All those times he lied. He lied.

“Let me out.” Annabella said.

“Anna-“

“Let me out!” She shouted.

She felt a rush and found herself back in her room. She tried to get up but she couldn’t. He was breathing hard and the room was spinning.

“Miss Annabella!” She faintly registered Alfred coming in.

She felt the cool sensation of her inhaler pressed to her lips and she took a deep breath.

“Breath Miss Annabella, just breath.” He urged.

“Did you know?” She asked when she caught her breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you know?” She asked a little louder. “Did you know what I really am?”

Alfred gave her a sad look and she knew. Scoffing she got up gripping the side of her bed.

“Miss what are doing? You should rest.”

“No, I’m going to talk to my father.” She snapped as she stomped out of the room.

#oc #oc x bruce wayne #truth in blood

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kamryu · 6 years

Text

Character Profile:

Rukamy Niowonne Drahutir (Kam-Ryu) The Basics –––

Age: Mid-twenties

Birthday: 15th Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon

Race: Elezen, Duskwright

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Marital Status: Single

Server: Mateus

Physical Appearance –––

Hair: Uneven lilac (Naturally dirty blonde).

Eyes: Yellow.

Height: 181cm / 5′9″ ish.

Build: Moshpit-able.

Distinguishing Marks: Facial tattoo stretching from her left ear to the left eye. Diagonal scar on her forehead.

Common Accessories: Steel-case for cigarettes. Studs & patches. Lollipops of various flavors.

Personal –––

Profession: Unemployed, previously done cleaning work in taverns.

Hobbies: Listening to music, reckless toying with guns, reading on magitek.

Languages: Common.

Residence: Currently a shabby cellar somewhere in Ul’dah, cashed in a favor.

Birthplace: Ishgard, the Brume.

Religion: None.

Fears: Losing her father, being bedridden, dying alone, being exposed.

Relationships –––

Spouse: None.

Children: None.

Parents: Father: Ubert Drahutir (Alive). Mother: Phaxine Ojiane Niowonne (Deceased).

Siblings: None.

Other Relatives: An aunt who helped raise Rukamy in her teenage years.

Pets: None.

Traits –––

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Yupp. Drugs: If you ask nicely. Alcohol: Absolutely.

RP Hooks –––

At the moment, Rukamy is on the lookout for work. She’s often seen wandering around Ul’dah these days, not quite sure what to do with her sparetime.

You’ve heard some nasty rumors about a couple known as Niowonne & Drahutir. Alas, Rukamy simply goes by the anagram Kam-Ryu, but rumors can be discussed!

Your character is a musician, the elezen would love to hear you play!

More Information –––

What I Am Looking For –––

Friends, acquaintances, business partners, enemies… People!

I’m a big fan of things that go beyond sharing basic information in-character. I’m very much down for staging events that make things more exciting!

Shenanigans and some light wall breaking. I love it. Can’t get enough.

In-game RP.

I don’t mind roleplaying with characters that go beyond what lore entails. Wether you’re a fox-miqo’te, voidsent-posessed elezen or siren, it’s all fine by me, aslong as you can make it believable!

EU frends! I’m from Norway, so my GMT +1 timezone can make arranging RP a bit finicky. That being said, I’m quite the night owl, but having someone closer to my timezone(or generally available during my day/evening hours) makes participating in RP more consistently easier.

People to attend events with! ‘S scary going alone!

What I Am NOT Looking For –––

Erotic roleplay for the sake of erotic roleplay, nor will I stage RP where any form of sex/intercourse occurs. I am, however, fine with roleplaying erotic scenes that are not planned. Alas, I don’t ERP with strangers.

Potential family of Rukamy.

Romance is fun, but as with ERP, I don’t like planning for it. If it happens, it happens!

RP that only takes place in discord or tumblr.

About Me –––

I’ve been roleplaying since I was a young teenager, primarily in WoW, before one of my RP friends from there introduced me to FFXIV in 2014-2015. I’ve been on Balmung for a bit over two years now, and this place never cease to surprise me.

I’m a sucker for dark themes, but I’d like to talk it out first to make sure that nothing scratches a wrong itch!

Both rolls and free emotes are great.

I’m very patient, so please take your time to write your posts if you need it! My posts most often range from short to medium length. Due to english not being my first language, it’s sometimes difficult to make a good, long post.

I have my struggles, most importantly anxiety. Lately, I’ve had a habit of appearing and disappearing, activity going very up and down. This can lead to some radio silence, which I apologize in advance for. It is something I’m working on, and if we’ve got a dialogue going, be it OOC or IC, I will try my best to keep you in the loop. Should I fail, however, please shoot me a message! The fear of a reply is often the cherry on top of my silence.

Availability/Contact Information –––

Timezone: GMT +1. I’m mostly avaliable from 4pm to 2am, but my days aren’t very organized so… Ehh?

Discord: Doctor Oso#4786

#character profile #kam-ryu #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv rp #ffxiv roleplay #final fantasy roleplay #final fantasy rp #stormblood #heavensward #elezen #duskwright #mateus #mateus server #character template #character sheet

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justlistenuniverse · 7 years

Text

Sterek Headcanon

So Stiles is the 24-year-old son of a successful company and a foundation owner

His mom died pretty early in his life but he still remembers her (and yes, he misses her)

He's expected to take over the company once he turns 30 but he always misses important meetings and seems to spend too much money and no-one knows what he buys

When he misses a foundation-event (which is very unusual because Stiles absolutely loves playing with kids and trying to get them to be happy for a little while), he's called into an emergency meeting as tabloids and internet blogs have picked up on his absence and are publishing articles about him being drug addicted

The most important people of the company, including his dad, demand for him to explain where he always spends his time and since his father picked up on his frantic excuses that are getting more obvious lies every day he's not amused my Stiles' stutters

But when his dad says that Stiles is the future of the company and should learn to take responsibility and maintain a positive image he snaps

He yells at them that it's his life and they can't tell him what to do and that he doesn't want the future they want him to have and runs

He takes a random flight of a random country and ends up somewhere in the Alps in Switzerland, booking into some hotel and spends the first day curled up in his room, phone off, TV showing some documentary about wolfs

The next day Stiles decides to go for a walk, managing to get lost when it starts snowing heavily

He's hopelessly running through the woods, clothes all wet from the snow, not seeing a thing and calling for help when he stumbles over a cabin

The door isn't locked, so he walks in and collapses on the floor

When he wakes up he's lying on a couch, staring at a huge, handsome man, who's scowling down at him

Stiles yelps and falls off the couch

"What the fuck, dude? What's your problem?"

"You are the one that broke into my house."

"I... the door was open."

"Doesn't give you permission."

And the guy won't stop glaring and frankly, it's getting on Stiles' nerves

"Alright, grumpy cat. No need to glare me to death. Just let me use your phone and I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

"I don't have a phone."

"Uhm, E-Mail?"

"No Internet-connection."

"Then would you consider driving me to the next town?"

"I don't have a car either."

"And hooow am I gonna get back to civilization?"

"There's nothing out here. The next town is several miles away. Walking would take a whole day."

"And how do you stay alive out here? Do you hunt down innocent rabbits or something? Steal eggs from birds? Look for berries? Get water from the lake that must be around here somewhere?"

The guy scoffs at Stiles. "I have someone who brings me food and other stuff once a month."

"And when is their next visit scheduled?"

Cabin-man (who kinda looks like Superman. If Superman would wear henleys and dark jeans and won't shave for some weeks. Stiles is a tiny bit intimidated) sighs like Stiles is the worst thing he ever encountered. Which, rude.

"In two weeks."

"Great, I'll stay here for the time being."

"No way. That's not happening."

"And where do you suggest me to stay instead? Think one of your many neighbors has a guestroom he doesn't need?"

The guy sighs again - honestly, doesn't he know how to use words? - and rolls his eyes

"Fine. Two weeks."

"Great. Do you have a second bed or will I take the couch?"

Stiles gets to take a shower - how is it that grumpy cat has a huge house (seriously, it's huge and beautiful, all woody and glass) and hot water but no phone or internet? - and caveman lends him clothes that aren't dripping with melting snow (and are only a little bit too wide because Stiles and he share the same high but the guy also has the build of Superman and not just the face and that's so unfair)

Caveman introduces himself as "Derek" and raises one impressive eyebrow when Stiles offers a "Stiles Stilinski"

They drink coffee and Derek shows Stiles a surprisingly comfortable guest room. He even gets two blankets because yes, it's damn cold even inside the house

The next day, Stiles wakes up to Derek chopping wood outside and they silently eat breakfast together

Stiles is pacing around, drumming beats on every surface when Derek snaps at him to please keep quiet or read a book

Stiles snaps back that he can't stop it because he hasn't had his Adderall (and nearly pulls out his hair when he realizes that he'll go into withdrawal in the next few days)

Derek snorts and is all "Nice, so I'm stuck with some Idiot who managed to get lost in the middle of a snowstorm and to top that off, said Idiots has ADHD?"

"Woha dude, you seriously need to lighten up."

"Don't call me dude."

"Alright, grumpy cat, you really don't have a phone or a laptop? Fax? Light symbols? An owl?"

"No. You have to play Harry Potter somewhere else."

"Ha, so you know pop culture!"

"I choose to live like this. Doesn't mean that I always did."

Stiles spends the rest of the day asking Derek tons of questions - "Who's your favorite character? Do you know Star Wars? Can we please talk Sherlock?" - and only getting one-word answers

Most days go like this until Stiles starts cooking because he already read half of Derek's (impressive yet boring) library and needs to keep his hands busy

Derek mostly reads or work on texts and keeps to himself and it's bugging Stiles because there's nothing to do around here

"Seriously, can't you answer one of my questions with more than two words?"

"No."

"Why are you here anyway? I mean you clearly aren't from Switzerland."

"What gave me away."

"Mark the date! Derek said more than two words! And your ability to speak English with an accent that sounds a bit like mine."

"Derek. Deeerek."

"What."

"It's so quiet."

"Yes."

"It's too quiet."

"No."

"Derek!"

"Hey, grumpy cat?"

"Stiles."

"Don't you have anything to do for me? I'm really bored."

"... Do you play chess?"

Turns out that both of them are really good at chess (and that Derek hasn't played in ages because "it's a two-person game, Stiles.")

Derek starts to open up a bit more. At one point, he talks two hours about why Remus Lupin is his most-favorite character. And another two hours on why John Snow is boring.

Stiles tells him about his life (born in Beacon Hills, moved to New York after his mom's death). He also tells him that while he loves the foundation of his family, he hates the company and secretly studies at Columbia University which is where the money goes everyone thinks he's spending on drugs and why he misses some events

(Derek is actually impressed)

Derek quietly tells him that he used to be a middle-school teacher but won't tell why he moved out there

They actually get along well with Stiles finding himself falling for Derek because the guy may glare more than laugh but he's a huge marshmallow underneath

But then Stiles stumbles into Derek's room one morning to lend another shirt and Derek's not there so he goes to the closet and finds a small box under the shirts

It's filled with old articles cut from magazines, a picture of a huge family (Derek had to be around 13 on that photograph) and a small stuffed wolf

And when Stiles sees the picture it clicks

Because Derek is Derek Hale from Beacon Hills who's family died in a fire (Stiles only knows this because he stayed in contact with his kindergarten friend Scott who told him about that)

Derek comes into the room when Stiles is staring at the photo and loses it

He yells at Stiles for touching his stuff and why he can't just leave Derek alone

And Stiles accidentally lets the picture fall because Derek scared him

He runs out, quickly getting lost again in the wood and are those wolfs he hears?

He's running around for hours, not knowing where he is and slowly freezing because he didn't take a jacket with him

But right when he thinks that he'll die out there, Derek's there, pulling him into his arms with a breathless "Stiles." when he sees him

Back in the cabin Stiles gets covered with every blanket Derek can find

And while he drinks tea and a fire is crackling away in the fireplace, Derek tells him his story

His family, the Hales, were pretty famous in Beacon Hills. Thalia Hale was a well-known advocate, her brother Peter owned a wolf sanctuary and her husband Dave was an author

When Derek was 15, his mom managed to frame one Gerard Argent who had killed several people as a doctor in a hospital by poisoning them and watching them slowly die ("Like that guy in Sherlock?" "Yes, like that guy in Sherlock.")

Thalia got several threats against her life and that of her family but finished the case and Gerard Argent was charged with murder and had to pay a huge sum to the families of the victims and also faced a life imprisonment

The Argents were in the papers for months even though Gerard's kids didn't have anything to do with it

When Derek was 16 he met Kate, an older woman who was clearly interested in him and he dated her, kissed her and slept with her

She always asked about his family but he thought it normal since he got many questions about them anyway

But One night, when his whole family was gathered due to his dad's birthday, there suddenly was a fire. It spread fast and they couldn't make it outside because all the doors were looked

Laura, Derek, and Cora where the only survivors

Laura took them to New York were she finished her degree and managed to pick up Thalia's job while Derek decided to study to become a teacher once he finished High School

But some years later, when Derek was 25 ("Wait, how old are you now?" "I'm 32." "Holy shit."), they started to get threats

Cora went missing the next day

When Derek was 27, Cora's remains were found. Evidence led to one Kate Argent, Gerard Argent's daughter who wanted revenge for her dad.

Before the police could catch her and before Derek could tell Laura, Kate managed to crash her cars into Laura's, killing both of them on impact

Derek fleed to Switzerland, believing that it was his fault because he didn't see the danger Kate displayed or the person she really was

"Why Switzerland, though?"

"My mom loved snow and peace. This was our family getaway because here, no-one knew us."

"Oh, that's why this place is so huge?"

They talked some more about everything and anything and when they parted for the night, Stiles hugged Derek close

"You aren't at fault, Derek. Kate Argent is the villain here. I hope you know that."

And if Derek pulls Stiles a little bit closer and buries his face in his neck, no-one has to know but them

The next couple of days were filled with a new kind of warmth

Derek chopped wood while Stiles made breakfast, they played chess and somehow, Derek started to read Stiles some of his favorite passages from his favorite books (which aren't as boring as Stiles thought)

The day before Stiles is set to leave, they cook together and make s'mores over a candle. And they laugh a lot and Stiles doesn't know how he ended up so close to Derek but there's this gorgeous face of this gorgeous man and Stiles kisses him

It's slow and sweet and Stiles doesn't want to stop

They don't have sex but they cuddle and kiss the whole night on Derek's bed, falling asleep shortly before the sun starts to rise

Waking up in Derek's arms makes Stiles want to stay but when he tells Derek so, the man tells him to go because he can't stay with him forever

They fight because Stiles doesn't want to go and also doesn't think that Derek should tell him what to do because that is the thing that made him run from his own dad in the first place and it ends with Stiles leaving with the delivery guy

When he looks back through the window, he swears he can see Derek crying

When he reaches the hotel his dad is there

Turns out he got really really worried when he couldn't get a hold of Stiles after the fight that he let someone trace Stiles' credit card and followed him to Switzerland

Stiles never hugged his dad so hard in all of his life

Back in New York - and after he let Scott know that he was fine and alive - he calls a meeting himself, telling everyone who has something to say about the company that he doesn't want to take over the company and that he's studying at Columbia

They settle on Stiles taking over the foundation because he always loved it and him helping them to find someone suitable to take over the company once his dad had plans to retire

Stiles get's to go to Columbia without having to make up some lies and the press quickly picks up on it. There are still scandals about him but he has a pretty positive image now

A month later, Scott comes to visit him

And it takes the man all but two minutes to see that Stiles isn't happy at all

Stiles tells him the story of Derek and Scott smiles at him

"You are in love with him."

"What?! No! No way!"

"Stiles. Go get him."

And maybe Scott is right. Scratch that, Scott is definitely right and Stiles needs to mark this date on his calendar because Scott is rarely right about something

But he won't go to Switzerland because Derek wanted him to leave

Three days later, Stiles gets picked up by Derek once his classes have finished

The fucker just leans against a really beautiful Camaro, wearing that red thumb-hole jumper Stiles really loves and looks all hopeful when he spots Stiles

Funnily enough, Stiles first question isn't what Derek is doing here

"Where did you get that car?"

"I left it here when I run to Switzerland."

"And what made you come back?"

"I don't know."

"Well, we better make you find a good reason then."

And they kiss against the Camaro

"Wait, how did you know when I have classes?"

"I googled your company - yes Stiles, I know how to use the internet, don't look at me like that - and went to see your dad-"

"You went to see my dad? Holy crap, you love me."

"I... I do. I love you."

"Good. I love you too."

Bonus:

Derek decides to move in with Stiles. He ends up applying and getting accepted as a middle school teacher for English and history. Stiles is not surprised.

Stiles' dad loves Derek and vice versa. The two of them like to watch baseball together. The "Call me John, son." wasn't a surprise to anyone

The Company chooses one Lydia Martin as Stiles' "lifesaver", as he calls it. She's a young, beautiful, incredibly intelligent woman. They hit it off immediately, two clever people finally having someone to challenge them

Stiles graduates with honors and several job offers. No-one but Derek knows what exactly he studied but they are all extremely proud of him.

"Sterek" become the Dream-couple of charity work. Whenever Stiles does something, Derek is there too and when Derek starts to work with kids who lost their family, Stiles is there to support him along the way

Derek cries when Lydia asks him to be the godfather of her first child ("No Stiles, I haven't forgotten about you. But Jackson really wanted Derek to be the godfather and I have no idea why but he was the second one on my list so he'll get the job this time.")

They sometimes have bad days. Derek is in therapy now but it resulted in the worst nightmares once he started going. Stiles one day finds a letter from his mother addressed to him in one of the books she loved and he wanted to give to Derek. He isn't able to leave the bed for days. But they are always there for each other.

The tabloids ship them. So does everyone else.

Derek is 36 when he finally realizes that he found a new family. It's Christmas and he ends up in the center of a massive group hug, carefully of his goddaughter sleeping in his arms, when he tells them he loves them.

Stiles and Derek still use the cabin as a getaway.

#Sterek #Headcanon #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Scott McCall #Stiles Stilinski x Derek Hale #Teen Wolf #Inspired by some really dumb movie #Switzerland #I don't know what else to tag #stilesandderek

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ncvat · 4 years

Text

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO NOW ABOUT NOVA ELIZABETH TAYLOR !!

UNDER THE CUT YOU WILL FIND COUNTLESS CHARACTER TRAITS, FACTS AND STATS ABOUT NOVA.

*just added

**edited/changed

name: nova elizabeth taylor

nickname(s): just nova, no nicknames.

name significance/meaning: in portugeuse and latin the word nova is translated as ‘new’. but in the english dictionary the word it used to describe a star showing a sudden large increase in brightness and then slowly returning to its original state over a few months.

gender: cisfemale

age: twenty one

birthday: september 28th 1998

zodiac sign: virgo

birthplace: brentwood

ethnicity: white

nationality: american

skin tone: pale

eye color: brown

natural hair color: brown

height: 5 ft 10 in

weight: 128 lb

lefthanded/righthanded/ambidextrous: right handed

age character appears to others: 19

dyed hair color: dark brown

usual hairstyle: down, uncombed

tattoos: none

piercings: visual

clothing style: visual

voice: audio

extrovert or introvert: introvert

personality traits: reticent, sardonic, dependable, uncoordinated, dreary, indifferent

optimist or pessimist: pessimist

mood: grumpy, bored

attitude: laidback

strengths: determined, intelligent, witty,

flaws: sarcastic, reserved, self-critical

mannerisms: running her fingers through her hair, crossing her arms, rolling her eyes

habits: biting nails, biting bottom lip, cracking knuckles

morning person or night owl: night owl

pet peeves: when people tell her to do something she was planning on doing already, hearing someone chew their food

favorite sin: sloth

favorite virtue: patience

ruled by heart or mind: mind

mindset: it izzz what it izzzz

motivated by: herself

life motto: i am the cause of, and the solution to, most all of my problems.

energy level: 6.2/10

memory level: 8.2/10

disabilities: none

phobias: heights

addictions: marijuana, cigarettes (she doesn’t drink alcohol)

allergies: peaches

job title: book store clerk

education: bachelor of arts - english

college: university of vancouver

work ethic: average

job history: has had the same bookstore job since the eleventh grade

income: $15.24/hour

dream job: author

what job would she do poorly at: doctor (she would definitely suck at bedside manner)

favorite foods: fries, chocolate ice cream, broccoli, spinach,

favorite drinks: nestea, water

favorite movie: the fight club

favorite music artist: khalid

favorite book: twilight

favorite place: brentwood

favorite activities: taking photos, reading, surfing (she sucks at it but enjoys it)

favorite time of day: sundown

what makes them happy? taking pictures, being around her friends, summer

what makes them sad? every season that isn’t summer, the concept of family

hobbies: photography, writing

favorite animal: elephants

raised by: mother

parent status: separated

mother’s name: elizabeth hanes

mother’s age: 41

mother’s background: american

father’s name: anthony taylor

father’s age: 42

father’s background: american

relationship with mother: nova and her mother don’t have the strongest relationship. growing up, nova felt as if her mother was too hovering. there were always limits to what she was allowed to do. as nova got older, she started to rebel against her mother's rules and demands which caused a strain in their relationship. although they don’t despise each other, they also don’t show much intimacy towards the other. nova never felt as if she could trust in her mother with her secrets or go to her for advice. she was too afraid she would judge her too harshly if she knew the personal details of novas life.

relationship with father: this is probably the most complicated relationship in novas life. until nova was fourteen, her father was in jail. during that time they had no relationship as he had been out of her life since she was an infant. by the time she was fifteen her father reached out to her and asked her for money. and so nova managed to put together some money to give to him. whenever she would visit brentwood she would secretly visit her father and help him around the house (buy groceries, lend him money, clean his house). this sort of relationship went on until she was eighteen. she was tired of feeling used by her father so she cut him out of her life. she continued to visit brentwood but avoided him at all cost. she was 20 when her father (kinda??) fixed up his life and nova allowed him back into her life. (you can probably find more info here)

only child? no

first born, middle child, or youngest? first born

# of siblings: one half brother

relationship with siblings: novas kinda like a mom figure to her brother. despite the big age gap between them they get along fairly well. he goes to brentwood with her every summer

how has family life shaped the character? nova often distances herself from emotionally getting attached to people. she can come off as very standoffish when it comes to having close connections with others. this isolated behaviour has rooted from her vacant relationship with her mother and father. having no relationship with them fostered her to have a very self dependent nature.

sexual orientation: bisexual

relationship status: single

notable ex-lovers: n/a

top 3 loved ones: the gang

top 3 disliked ones: her father, ??, ??

how have they changed as a person throughout their life? nova has slowly become less of an introvert overtime. throughout her teens nova barely spoke without being called upon and kept to herself. now as she’s getting older she voices her opinion and thoughts when she see’s fit.

major regrets: the first time she lent her father money. she believes it was the start of the dark rabbit hole he dragged her through.

biggest life lessons learned: rely on no one but yourself. nobody is as loyal to you as you are loyal to yourself. if you don’t set high expectations and dependance on people they can’t disappoint you.

religious beliefs: atheist

core values: respect, hedonism, loyalty, humor

morals: always be loyal to your friends. never break a promise, and never make a promise you can't keep. never trust anyone. take less than you give.

favorite memories: the first time she met the gang

least favorite memories: finding her father passed out drunk (the many many times)

things they want in life: to be happy and one day maybe have a family of her own

things they don’t want in life: to be wealthy. she’s a strong believer that money doesn't buy happiness

any secrets: that she is still in contact with her father

what they think of themselves: very little. nova is very self deprecating it and can be a bit excessive at times. she thinks she lacks motivation and personality at times. she also thinks she can be a bit of a jerk when she wants to be.

what they wish they could change: nothing. although she doubts many things about herself and her past actions, she knows that she wouldn’t be who she was without any of it. even so, she knows that it’s impossible to change the past so why dwell on it.

what they wish they could have: a family

risks worth taking: finding that treasure. no matter the cost

things they take for granted: life, good health

what they have doubts about: her future and the direction it is headed

what makes them feel alive: usually anything that ignites her soul. her favourites are: running into the cold ocean water on a hot summer day, developing a photo that turned out perfectly, hearing her friends laugh …

what do they want to be remembered for? her photos. she doesn’t really mind if the memory of herself fades, but as long as the memories she captured in her photos live on forever

#☆°。intel !#man this is so messy i literally have a bunch more to answer but i'm just gonna leave this here for now #shruggggg #nova u strange human

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spinach-productions · 7 years

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Overwatch: do u want 2 join Talon?

The goal here was to a.) take the idea of Reaper being terrifying and pitch it out the window, and b.) take characters who don’t interact and put them together to see what happens. I really enjoyed this.

Might continue if I get more ideas. No promises.

Wordcount: 2019

Summary: Hanzo has no interest in joining Talon. No, really. Reaper, stop asking.

A small hand mirror (extracted from a circular hand compact because its round edges are pleasing to nervous fingers) reflects Dorado’s center square, its string lights illuminating the messy space and showing it to still be empty. Hanzo tucks the mirror into his pocket. His communicator reads quarter-to-eleven. He turns the display off and folds his arms. Someone is wasting his time, and if there’s one thing Hanzo can’t abide, it’s someone who wastes his time.

He begins to dial Overwatch HQ’s main line.

“I said don’t call anyone.”

By the time the speaker his finished, Hanzo is already on the adjacent rooftop, arrow nocked and aimed into the smoky, billowing mass coiling up over the gutters of his original vantage point.

“You’re late,” he says, bow still at the ready.

“You’re not where we agreed to meet.”

“You didn’t really expect me to stand in the middle of the square.”

The mass begins to fold in on itself, trading volume for density as it builds up into a human shape. “I don’t care what you think I expect. I’m here to make an offer. Put that down.”

“I will not,” Hanzo says. “What is your offer.”

“You’ve just watched me turn into mist and ooze up the side of a building. Do you honestly believe that sharpened stick is any kind of dissuasion?”

“If it’s no dissuasion, then you won’t mind if don’t put it away.”

The particles coalesce into a figure, roughly six feet tall by Hanzo’s estimate. A man, if the voice isn’t modulated. He’s wearing a hooded coat, under which is a mask that is shaped either like a skull or a barn owl. The ensemble is black with fasteners that seem to be made of ammunition holders. His gauntlets are large, his shoulder pads are huge, and his boots are the most enormous of all. The entire thing, Hanzo decides, is utterly tacky.

“Fine,” Reaper says, folding his arms, “If it makes you feel better. Did you come to hear my offer, or would you rather trade barbs over your toothpick all night?”

“I’m listening.”

“I represent an organization called Talon—”

Hanzo has already released the tension in his bowstring. “No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“I’m well aware of your organization,” he says, storing the arrow back in its quiver, “You believe that humanity is strengthened through conflict. To this end, you stir up chaos wherever you go, although why you wish to force growth on humanity is a mystery to me.” Hanzo swings himself off the roof to a drainpipe, “I do not share your ideology, I do not care for the means through which you pursue your goals, and I am not interested in aiding or joining your cause.”

Reaper watches him. The mask doesn’t articulate emotions, but he has an air of inhuman patience about him. “I have ways of making you change your mind.”

“I will not,” Hanzo says as he scales down the building’s façade.

“You will,” Reaper calls from the roof.

“I will not!” Hanzo rebuts as he exits the square.

As he selects Overwatch, Gibraltar from his list of contacts, he hears a faint noise through the cracks in Dorado’s historic architecture, like a man-sized pile of autumn leaves burning to ash and scattering across the ground. The wind carries a faint whisper that sounds eerily like You will.

Hanzo allows himself an eye roll as he keys in his location for extraction.

“There’s no need to debase yourself,” Winston says when Hanzo’s report strays into reassurances about his allegiance, “I had full confidence in you. If there were doubts about your loyalty, I wouldn’t have invited you to Overwatch.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo replies. He clears his throat to cover the gratitude that must show in his voice. “Do you believe Talon’s interest was based on my abilities, or my place in the organization?”

Winston skims the last of Hanzo’s written files before uploading them into one of Athena’s many databases. “Both make you a prime target. I’m grounding you for a few days to see if I can find where they the intel. Most likely they caught you during their surveillance of Overwatch, but I want to be sure they haven’t breached our security. I’d like your eyes on it after I’ve done the first sweep.”

“Of course,” Hanzo says.

Winston sends him off with two days off and strict instructions to schedule a full physical sometime during them. Hanzo makes a reluctant appointment with Doctor Ziegler for the next morning. Having completed his return-to-base duties, he showers off the post-mission stink and settles at his desk with a cup of tea and the latest piece of Helix security coding queued up on his tablet.

He’s just begun testing for standard weaknesses (which Helix usually covers beautifully, but it’s always good to try the basics first) when there’s a knock at the door.

“One moment,” he calls, saving his progress and locking the tablet before he opens the door.

“I want you to reconsider— now stop that.”

Hanzo, who has already grabbed his bow and quiver and thrown himself out the window, rolls to his feet at the edge of the cliff and slams the red Intruder Alert button on his communicator. The base’s windows turn red as the lights switch to emergency mode, and a klaxon begins sounding the alarm that means a hostile agent has breached Overwatch’s defenses. Hanzo slings the quiver over his shoulder and sprints along the path leading towards the control room in hope of getting some part of the base on lockdown.

The ground ahead of him begins to crackle and smoke, and Reaper rises up out of the grass with his arms crossed like this encounter isn’t meeting his expectations.

“You’re not listening to me,” he says.

Hanzo dodges around him, desperately trying to remember if there are any shortcuts to the main hall that connects with Winston’s meeting room. If not, he’ll have to run the full perimeter and scale the barriers that have surely descended around the front door by now, which isn’t impossible but will slow him down considerably.

“Who threw the alarm?” Someone barks into the main communications channel.

“I did,” Hanzo replies, “Gabriel Reyes just knocked on my door.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Unless someone here has taken to wearing black cloaks with an owl mask. Then it would be a problem of taste rather than security,” Hanzo deadpans. He recognizes this as his tendency to shut down his emotions in the face of danger.

The ground ahead regurgitates Reaper again. “My taste is impeccable.”

Hanzo fire off an arrow. It passes through Reaper’s wraith form and soars into the distance.

The smoky human shape slithers through the air and places itself directly on the path, cutting off Hanzo’s only escape route. Reaper materializes and has the gall to look annoyed. “I said stop that.”

Hanzo lets loose a volley of arrows. Each finds its mark in Reaper’s torso, knees, head, and each continues through until the ground is peppered with failed homicide attempts.

“Stop shooting me,” Reaper snaps, “I want to make another offer.”

“There is nothing you can offer me,” Hanzo snarls, bow drawn as he tries to edge between Reaper and the building.

Reaper matches his movements. “The Shimada Clan is in shambles. Talon could pull them together under your leadership.”

“I will do no such thing,” Hanzo spits. Over the communication chatter coming from his wrist, he can hear the intruder alarm spilling out of an open window behind him and halfway up the wall.

Reaper holds his ground. “You could rebuild it, better, strong. In your own image instead of your father’s.”

Hanzo stashes Stormbow on his back and scales the wall, vaulting back into the cacophonous base without answering. Reaper’s sigh carries on the wind again as Hanzo pings his location and runs for the control room.

It takes several hours for the various members stations at Gibraltar to turn the base upside-down. Unsurprisingly, they find nothing. Hanzo gives his second report of the night. With little doubt that Reaper’s second visit means there will be a third, Winston creates a buddy-system schedule to ensure Hanzo’s safety while on base.

“This is humiliating,” he tells Orisa as she finishes sweeping his room.

“It is logical,” she disagrees, carefully pushing his chair back under the desk. “The hour is late; a human guard would be affected if they were to guard you at this hour, but I am able to recharge at any time.”

“I meant it’s humiliating that Winston thinks I need a guard at all,” he snaps.

“That is also logical. If there are two people, no one can be taken unaware.”

“I have trained since childhood to prepare for an assassin’s life. There is no need for anyone to babysit me,” Hanzo snarls.

Orisa pauses. Hanzo has seen this behavior when she is researching vocabulary. “I do not believe Winston believes you incapable,” she says a moment later.

The pause has given him a moment to collect himself, and for that, he is grateful. Hanzo takes a slow breath and mirrors her calm. “You are probably correct,” he says in a smoothed-out voice, “It would be foolish to leave a target unguarded, no matter what their skill level. There is no reason to sacrifice safety for my pride.”

“Your pride is important, but in this case, there are other things to be considered,” Orisa says agreeably. “I will take up a position outside to ensure the hallway is clear. Please summon me if you have any need.”

Hanzo thanks her and bids her goodnight. His ego stings, but Orisa has given him space to see the necessity behind Winston’s plan.

He sighs, toeing off his shoes and opening the closet to retrieve a robe.

“Don’t shoot me this time.”

Hanzo slams the door shut.

“Rude,” Reaper says from the other side.

He leaves one shaky hand planted against the closet door. It will do little good if Reaper decides to ooze between the cracks in the frame, but it makes Hanzo feel better. “Why are you in my room?”

“Well I came to make an offer, but I guess what I really wanted was to sit in your clothes hamper and chat through a door all night.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call the OR-15 unit standing outside.”

“Because you haven’t been able to catch me so far and you want to gather intelligence. It’s what you do in the face of uncertainty.”

He isn’t wrong. Hanzo glares at the door. “Alright. What is your offer?”

Something makes a noise like someone moving several coat hangers to one side and then shifting to lean against a wall. “Your clan, your power, and your family. All of it, up to and including the latest research in human genetic regeneration for your brother.”

“Is that what happened to you? Regeneration?”

“Don’t interrupt, but yes, something like that. The technology has advanced since I… happened, and there have been multiple cases where over 70% of the body was restored. So what I’m really offering is redemption. You like redemption, don’t you?”

“You’re absurd,” Hanzo mutters.

“And you murdered your brother. Wouldn’t it be nice to make up for that?”

“You don’t know anything,” Hanzo hisses.

“Of course, what would I know about death? Aside from that fact that it turns up in the least expected places and doesn’t appreciate the smell of lilac detergent.”

“I did not choose the soap--” Hanzo uses his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I am going to call the guard in a moment. Please leave by whatever means you entered.”

“Think about the offer,” Reaper says, followed by the same burning/scattering noise from Dorado.

Hanzo wrenches open the door to find his closet predictably empty. He stomps to the door, informs Orisa of his visitor, and allows himself to be relocated to an empty set of quarters while his room is systematically taken apart because someone decided to make a house call.

#Overwatch #overwatch Hanzo #overwatch Reaper #overwatch Winston #overwatch Orisa #fanfiction #fanfics #Yoo writes!

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sofuckingchuffed · 7 years

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RULES: you must answer this 92 statements and tag 20 people.

I was tagged by @thatblindwormand @suspectsim

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Green tea

2. Phone call: Home (so my ma)

3. Text Message: @hayleysmile xx

4. Song you listened to: Brotherhood of Man from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

5. Time you cried: Hm. Probably Thursday?

6. Dated someone twice: Uh. Never? XD

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yes.

8. Been cheated on: No.

9. Lost someone special: Yes.

10. Been depressed: Yes.

11. Gotten drunk and throwing up: Yes. Unfortunately.

LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Yellow

13. Purple

14. BLACK

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Yeah.

16. Fallen out of love: Nah

17. Laughed until you cried: Yeah

18. Found out someone was talking about you: Not explicitly, but I KNOW?

19. Met someone who changed you: No

20. Found out who your friends are: Kinda yeah

21. Kissed someone on your facebooklist: Wow I haven’t kissed someone in well over a year...

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost all of them. I think there’s three I’ve never met because Murrica

23. Do you have any pets: Yup, but y’all know that already.

24. Do you want to change your name: Nah 25. What did you do for your last birthday: Um... I know I was visiting Wagga. I’m pretty sure I was either driving to Wagga or I was lounging around my parents place being a hermit. Not a big deal at all lol.

26. What time did you wake up: 8:30ish

27: What were you doing at midnight last night: Reading fanfic

28. Name something you can’t wait for: London Christmas!!!

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: Like half an hour ago.

30. Favourite food: I never even know how to answer this. If I could pick one meal to always have made available to me it would be my old housemates green curry though.

31. What are you listening to right now: silence

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes. I was singing (rapping?) My Shot to a cat named Tom earlier? 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: My Dad’s general lack of hygiene.

34. Most visited website: Tumblr or AO3 lol

35. Background: Lock screen is Raúl and background is Alan Cumming’s EmCee (same as my tumblr pic)

36. What are you wearing right now: Pajamas

37: Hobby: um. giffing I guess?

38: Hair color: brown

39. Long or short hair: shooooort

40. Do you have a crush on someone: Unless Raúl counts, nah

41. What do you like about yourself: Not much at the moment.

42. Piercings: None

43. Blood type: Don’t know.

44. Nickname: Cherry, usually. Chez recently by a new friend.

45. Relationship status: single

46. Zodiac: Virgo

47. Pronouns: she/her

48. Favorite TV show: Doctor Who even though I’m not even enjoying it atm

49. Tattoos: Yeah, I have a bird silhouette on my right wrist, the Deathly Hallows sign on my left ankle (which is totally fucked looking now sigh too many scars on it), a little basic fox on my left upper arm, and a gorgeous Jon Carling rabbit artwork on my right thigh

50. Right or left-handed: right handed

51. Surgery: Mmm only keyhole.

52. Scent: Coconut and coffee

53. Sport: To watch? AFL. To play? Netball.

54. Vacation: Going to London for xmas/new year, and was in Hawaii in Feb this year.

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Not currenty?

58. Drinking: Also not currently?

59. I’m about to: Go to bed.

61. Waiting for: A direction to take.

62. Want: Contentment

63. Get married: Nah

64. Career: I don’t have one and I feel no shame in that.

WHICH IS BETTER:

65. Hug or kisses: Hugs

66. Lips or eyes: Eyes

67. Shorter or taller: Could not care less

68. Older or younger: Context is everything. But in terms of relationships (which I am assuming this is) I don’t care

69. Children or no children: no children

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: aaaaaaarms

72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship.

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Mostly hesitant.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: Yes.

75. Drank hard liquor: Yes.

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: No - I don’t need either

77. Turned someone down: Yes.

78. Sex on the first date: No

79. Broken someone’s heart: I don’t think so

80. Had your heart broken: No

81. Been arrested: No

82. Cried when someone died: Yes.

83. Fallen for a friend: Yes.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: Surprisingly yeah

85. Miracles: No

86. Love at first sight: No

87. Santa Claus: Lol sure why not

88. Kiss on the first date: Go with the flow

89. Angels: No

OTHER:

90. Current best friend’s name: Hayley

91. Eye color: brown

92. Favorite movie: Love Actually

I can’t tag 20 people omg...okay lemme try and sorry if you’ve already done this. @skittle479 @ohbelieveyoume @oh-little-owl @xserpx @minidodds @do-me-carisi @reginalds @hayleysmile @frankenchilidilly @larkistin @larkin21 @r-o-s-e-h-i-p-s, @raul-esparza-and-memes @discovampireforjesus @justraulesparza @mrschiltoncat @booyahkendell @khughes830 @fizzy-custard @eighthmark

I DID IT

#about me

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kepesh-yakshi · 8 years

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I’ve been tagged!!!

I was tagged by @wyndx (you’re awesome!) great questions in this one! I’m going to answer yours, my fair tumbling friend!

Rules:

a) Always post the rules, answer the questions, then write 11 questions of your own.

b) Tag 11 people.

1. Do you have a hobby outside of gaming?

I have a few, though gaming has been taking up most of my recent time. 1) I am a writer by both hobby and pseuo career (aka, I do not yet make enough to cover any bills, but I get something for it sometimes). 2) I love archery, and thus play an archer in most of my games. My favorite bow is my newest: a Bear Cruzer, it’s blaze orange, though I don’t count it as one of my “required orange” wearables. To be honest, I like to deck out in all blaze, so other human hunters can see me while most animals can’t discern my orange from actual camo. 3) Most of my work life has been devoted to security of some kind. I spent ten years with the TSA, and now am in retail security, and though it is my job, it’s also a major interest, and in a way, hobby of mine. Enough so that I read and chat with others in the field about it.

2. What Dragon Age companion could you see yourself actually hanging out with in real life?

Honestly? Cassandra. In real life, my closest friends (I have three) are all tall, strong, beautiful women, all but one are of culture aka, they choose a non-mainstream lifestyle and are proud of their heritage or path or belief(s), yet are still welcoming, open-minded, intelligent, forthright, and forgiving. Great role models. I stand 5′8″ - shortest on mom’s side, tallest on dad’s. Cassandra would be one of those three. I could see her in modern day calling me for a cuppa coffee and talking about her newest discovery in classic romantic literature.

3. What is your favorite movie?

Shawshank Redemption, hands down. But...Dumb and Dumber is my favorite laugher. Arlington Road pisses me off to tears, so it is among my favorites because it moves me so much.

4. Which DA game did you play the most?

Inquisition. It was my “welcome to DA” game. I am on Windows 10, and the other games don’t play well with this OS. and that sucks. But I am working on it. Origins, so far, has been a blast to play, so far! I have not really started DA2. But I can’t wait to get into it.

5. Would you ever move somewhere else to live?

Yes! I lived in Durango, before, back in the late 90s. I’d definitely do it again! Beautiful place with great people!

6. Do you have any new year’s goals for 2017?

Two: one is recurring and doesn’t count because I do it every year. “physically” get back in season. Enjoy the summer months in a great body, then throw it back to the fat hell in the winter months. Wash, rinse, repeat. But this year, my goal is to not have to explain myself for what makes me happy. I am me, I do me, and if people don’t like it, that’s their shit. I just dropped a long time friend of six years because she took my self-deprecative humor personally. Tired of that shit. I am not a doctor, psychologist, etc, and i don’t want your family drama, and i should not have to explain in detail why i do not wear makeup when YOU KNOW I am transitioned to male. UGH. I do not and will not explain myself.

7. Do you have any pets?

One cat. I rescued her over the summer. She was five when I met her. She actually picked me out. We’ve been best buds ever since. Her name is Crackers.

8. Where in the world of Thedas would you a)live b)vacation c)avoid?

Live: southern Marches or northern Fereldan. Close to water (fishing!!!!) and seems to be a nice easy community gathered around the area.

Vacation: Nevarra or Western Approach. Culture and food for the former. Hunting and endles beauty of the sands for the latter.

Avoid: seheron. Stories like what comes out of there kinda push me away.

9. Are you a reader? What is your favorite book?

YES!!! Classic Lit. Favoite book is The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay. A pro hockey player friend gave me a copy. I’ve shared it with many. I also love The Count of Monte Christo (Dumas) and The Idiot (Dostoyevsky), but I can’t limit to just three. I have so many I love and so many I have yet to read.

10. Any secret talents?

I am left handed to a fault -- I crook my hand when I write. So my secret talent is that I can sign my name upside down, right side up, top to bottom, left to right, and even backwards. I can also blow bubbles out of my left eye (dog attack severed my tear duct when I was 13). And I was a goalie for an inline hockey team in an all-mens league between 2001-2005. Once held 6 records before it got popula. 1) most shutouts in a season (36). 2)most wins in a season (36), 3)first female goalie to make it to regionals (lost 2-1 in triple overtime, other goalie bought me dinner, I thought I had a husband at that point LOL) 4) longest game ever played (still in the record books at 4 hrs 36 minutes) 5) hottest game ever played (126* outside) 6)coldest game ever played (-20 outside) -- last two records were october 2003 in Texas within three weeks of each other. the last three still stand. LOL.

11. Do you ship any rarepairs?

Rarepairs? OH like leliana and sera?

My questions:

1. If you could pick any superpower to have what would it be?

to be able to see 5 minutes into the future.

2. What is your preffered race and class in the DA games? human rogue archer

3. Favorite food? Grilled chicken breast.

4. If you could choose to live in any fictional universe which would you choose? Either Dragon Age or Elder Scrolls

5. Anything you really want to see in DA4? Nevarra

6. Are you in any other fandoms? Elder Scrolls

7. Biggest fear? Death :( it’s something we all will deal with, but I fear it. I have heard that fear of it means we have much more to live for, and we need to be stronger in our own personal convictions.

8. First Video Game you ever beat? Legend of Zelda (Adventures of Link) or Shadowrun (on Genesis), I forgot.

9. What’s your hogwarts house? (if you know) Slytherin -- which is funny, because I hated that house in the first movie.

10. Are you a night owl or a morning person? All-nighter, baby!!!

11. What’s the best advice you’ve ever recieved? Don’t give up on you!!!! My 11 Questions (answered) : 1. Who is your hero? Me, first and foremost. I’ve been through shit that people often write books about. And I’m still here and still enjoying life. But I also love my life coach, J, who guided me through the process of dropping all hindrances and learning to love my inner child. 2. Have you ever met someone you looked up to and were happy about it? YES!!! She left me with some keen advice. Sylvia Browne is her name. She passed into the next world, so to speak, but when I met her, I was working the walkthrough at TSA, and she was in a wheelchair. I was pre-transition (I am ftm), and she complimented me on my kindness and asked if she could give a reading. Of course I agreed, after complimenting her on her books. She said to me, “you are going to change. A metamorphosis. It will be painful but worth it to you.” Almost exact quote, that was back in ‘08. She also said that I would be a beacon to others who need to grow out of their boxes if I overcame my own obstacles. She’s been right so far. 3. What are your three current favorite songs? Sorry - Justin Bieber (the kid is good, I have to give props here -- I jam to this) Can I get a - Jay Z (high school favorite, still a favorite) The entire Under Reprisal CD by Threat Signal -- I kill workouts to this CD Anything at all from Fear Factory -- because again I KILL my goals with their music blasting. 4. Favorite pizza topping? Meat. 5. Favorite obscure movie? Hmm...The Upside of Anger (Joan Allen and Kevin Costner). Joan is my favorite actress. 6. Are you a sports fan at all? YES to almost everything. I played goalie in roller hockey. 7. What tumblrs do you follow and love but haven’t given love to? (tag the person) @meridok and @customhawke ... and @my-mother-mercury

damn fine tumblrs, there. 8. Any crazy bad habits? I bite my nails almost religiously, though they’re quite healthy, despite this. 9. What career do you think you had in a past life? A scribe or bard. I love to sing and write, now. 10. What is your best feat ever? Ran 2.6 miles in an airport terminal to exchange switched laptops between two high-up people in two major and well-known companies. Both offered jobs to me afterward. Hmm, perhaps I should contact now for career purposes. 11. What is your favorite motivational quote (or one you made up)?

“The ability to not know is an essential quality in learning anything.” -Jeff Brooks (article here)

My 11 Questions (for those I’ve tagged) : 1. Who is your hero? 2. Have you ever met someone you looked up to and were happy about it? 3. What are your three current favorite songs? 4. Favorite pizza topping? 5. Favorite obscure movie? 6. Are you a sports fan at all? 7. What tumblr do you follow and love but haven’t given love to? (tag the person) 8. Any crazy bad habits? 9. What career do you think you had in a past life? 10. What is your best feat ever? 11. What is your favorite motivational quote (or one you made up)?

I’m breaking the rules and tagging less than 11 people (sorry). Tagging: @meridok @archievement @customhawke @cuddlingcassandra @fereldan-dog-lord @my-mother-mercury @solasofficial @dragonageconfessions @dawriting @earthen-soul @fantasyartwatch

#me #about me #questions #tagged #tsa #hockey #books #reading #classic literature #LOVE THIS #i love this

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arplis · 5 years

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Arplis - News: How Mike Tyson Prepared Me for Fatherhood

Mike Tyson famously said, “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Clearly, he was talking about parenthood. Well, maybe not when he said it . . . but it applies nonetheless. Trust me.

If you are reading this, then, in all likelihood, you are a parent or expecting to be one at some point in the future and have already had your plan crumble to pieces, or you are delusional and think that you can defy the odds and that your plan will be the one that doesn’t fail. Can’t you hear the sound of naivety when the soon-to-be-dad (or mom) says, “When I have a kid” or “my child will never . . . ”?

I had a plan. Well, I didn’t. Not at first. I’ll explain . . . On a sunny Sunday afternoon, while shopping for a brand-new Jeep, my girlfriend at the time (now my wife, Lacey) turned to me and said, “We need to go home.”

We had been at the dealership for less than an hour when Lace said this. Meanwhile, I had mentally prepared myself to be there for at least the next three hours, negotiating with the salesman while he went back to talk to his boss every fifteen minutes as I threatened to walk out. I explained to her that we couldn’t leave, not just yet, and that this (buying a new car) is a process, which may take a while.

She graciously waited for me to finish my rant on the car buying experience then explained to me that she hadn’t gotten her “monthly visit,” felt ill, and needed to get a pregnancy test. Needless to say, we left the Jeep dealership . . . immediately.

We didn’t need to ask, “How did this happen?” We both knew the night the puck slipped past the goalie (that’s a whole separate column, which involves my Down Syndrome brother, Adam, calling me a “p*ssy” for not drinking).

So, after leaving the dealership, we stopped at Rite Aid and grabbed a pregnancy test. Five minutes later, she was peeing on a stick and, three minutes after that, we were questioning whether we saw a blue line or not. Not ten minutes had passed before I was driving to CVS to get another pregnancy test because the one we had bought at Rite Aid had not given us a clear enough answer (sidebar: There was definitely a blue line there; we just couldn’t face reality) and I was far too embarrassed to go back into the same Rite Aid and get another, different pregnancy test.

I made it home, she peed, and our fate was sealed; the word “PREGNANT” on the stick was not at all ambiguous this time. We were having a baby.

And so, the planning began. Our son was going to be the heir apparent to Tom Brady, starting quarterback for the New England Patriots, when he retires in 2035. No, better, he was going to be President of the United States—probably the youngest one ever after he graduated from Harvard Law School at the age of 18.

Being an avid Jordan enthusiast, I bought him five pairs of baby Jordans that evening while enjoying some wine to celebrate. Lacey, on the other hand, stared at me steely-eyed while she researched doctors, begrudging that she would be unable to enjoy wine and other stuff she loved for the next nine-plus months.

We met with our doctor a few weeks later and he delivered the first blow: “You’re having a girl.” I was speechless. While the thought of having a little girl had crossed my mind, it was not part of the plan . . . Ugh, the plan . . . My plan . . . had gone to shit.

Now, instead of playing one-on-one in the driveway while talking about his numerous girlfriends with the triumphant cock-smith of a son I had envisioned, I would be sitting with my back against my daughter’s bedroom door pleading with her to open it because “boys are dumb” and “Jake is an asshole” while secretly being stressed to the max about assholes like Jake trying to make my daughter a notch in their belt. Even more, I wasn’t prepared for the all the pink, princess dresses, and having my daughter not speak to me for her teenage years, which I was told comes with having a girl.

When I voiced my concerns about not knowing about how to raise a daughter (not that I had any experience raising a boy or any child for that matter), I was walked off the proverbial ledge by our doctor (he had two daughters of his own) and Lacey. They both emphasized that I would figure it out and everything would be just fine. They were much more helpful than my own father who told me, “Maybe she’ll be a lesbian like your sister and there will be nothing to worry about.” That was comforting.

Even after my initial plan went down in a first round K.O., I didn’t stop planning. In the months that followed, Lacey and I planned and plotted . . . every . . . single . . . detail . . .

We decided on our daughter’s name: “Harper Autumn;” we planned the design of her bedroom: All owl everything; and we planned for the night Harper would be born: April 29, 2014. Not living near either of our families, both our families had to book flights to LA around the time Harper was due; we coordinated and planned this, too.

Well, April 29 came and went and all we had to show for it was an all owl everything bedroom for a baby who would later be named “Harper Autumn.” Harper was late. Eight days late, to be exact. And, Lacey had to be induced, which was not part of our plan.

No biggie—a few more jabs to the jaw . . . Then, the left hook.

On May 7, we went to Cedars Sinai Hospital for Lacey to be induced. We were told that Lacey would be given Pitocin, which would induce labor, and that we would have our daughter by noon. Perfect. Well, Lacey took the Pitocin, received an epidural, and was a champ . . . about the whole thirteen-hour process. Yup, thirteen hours.

Sidebar: Women are seriously amazing. No way would I have been able to lie there thirteen hours being poked and prodded all day by a plethora of nurses and doctors.

My part in the labor was relatively easy: I lay down on the couch in the room, did some light studying for school, and later watched the NBA Playoffs (which may or may not have remained on in the background while I filmed the birth of our daughter). I also provided all the emotional support Lacey needed and made numerous cafeteria runs whenever prompted to do so.

Then, the moment came. At 8:11PM Harper arrived. It was amazing. I couldn’t remember a single part of any plan we had made. She was perfect: I no longer cared that my first child wasn’t a boy; I didn’t care that she was eight days late; and I no longer cared about anything that didn’t matter . . . As cliché as it sounds, I just wanted her to be healthy. I counted her fingers and toes: ten of each. We were all set. Life was good.

Where’s this left hook you ask?

After we each got to hold our daughter, do skin-to-skin, and snap some photos, the nurses took Harper to bathe her and run some tests. They encouraged us to get some rest, which Lacey needed more than I did, clearly. I figured I would quickly go home and check on our dogs (we lived less than a mile away from the hospital) while Lacey got some sleep.

About twenty minutes later I got a panicked phone call from Lace: “They haven’t brought her back!” I tried to calm her down and told her everything was fine and that I was headed back. When I got to the hospital about ten minutes later, I was met by Lacey in the hallway, pulling her IV. Mind you, this woman had given birth less than two hours ago and had ZERO business being out of bed.

“SHE’S NOT BACK YET!” she exclaimed as she saw me. “No one is telling me anything.” Shit. I tried not to panic.

We were then brought to the Nursery, where Harper was. But she wasn’t like all the other newborns in there. Harper had tubes everywhere and an astronaut-like helmet on pumping oxygen for her to breathe. Yep, this kid was not breathing right. That was not part of the plan.

We were informed that Harper would have to be admitted to the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) and that only one of us would be allowed to be with her up there overnight. I lost that battle to my wife. This was the left hook.

My parents lost a child (full-term stillbirth) when I was four years old, and I couldn’t shake that thought. Were we going to lose Harper? Would we try to have another child? How would this affect our relationship? None of this was part of the plan.

For the next twenty-three hours, we were surrounded by other families that had their plans interrupted. No one ever says, “Yeah, when we have our first child we plan on spending hours or days in the NICU not making eye contact with the other parents in there because we secretly hope our situation is not as bad as theirs and don’t want to get too familiar.”

I’m not going to lie, that left hook made our knees buckle. We were dazed . . . but we never fell. Instead, we took photos and comforted one another. We said we would figure this all out and get through it. And we did.

Twenty hours after being admitted to the NICU, Harper began breathing regularly. It turned out that being eight days late had made her lazy; she expected Lacey to do everything for her on the outside, too. Too bad that’s not how it works, kiddo. Yeah, my kid was an asshole (I can call her that; she’s my kid). After all, she is her father’s daughter.

They released her from the NICU a few hours later. We spent twenty-three hours in total in the NICU, scared every minute that we were going to lose our daughter or that she would have brain damage from not breathing and that we would have to get her special help . . . none of which was ever part of the plan or ever actually happened.

Harper is three years old now, and the punches haven’t stopped being thrown, but we’re getting better about dodging them. That’s parenthood: Dodging punches.

Am I saying, “F*ck it, don’t plan anything”? No, that’s idiotic. However, as a parent you need to be flexible because, well, shit it going to happen.

Your daughter may hug you as you leave for work and get toothpaste on your suit; your kid may shit up his or her back and all over your brand-new carpet; and you may find yourself getting used to the taste of pee that erupts out of your son’s diaper every time you change him because he gets excited when YOU change him. This is parenthood.

Everyone experiences similar things and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. “Everything went as planned,” said no one, ever, when discussing having and raising kids. So, if your plan gets altered, don’t worry: It happens to us all. Rolling with the punches builds character and makes for a really good story every now and then.

But, remember this . . . if you’re going to make a plan, don’t forget to keep a mouth-guard handy. See, I told you Mike Tyson was talking about parenthood.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Stephen

_____________

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cathybarba451-blog · 7 years

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eedwritingportfolio-blog · 7 years

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Personal Choice 1

Play

Shakespeare’s Encore

ACT I

SCENE I

The six characters sit in separate, plastic chairs. The room resembles a doctor’s office waiting room. Inexpensive, tacky paintings are placed haphazardly on the peeling walls. ROMEO and JULIET sit close together, whispering lovingly and exchanging kisses. HAMLET sits with his head in his hands between his knees. REGAN sits cross-legged, a compact mirror in her hand as she dabs at her makeup. DESDEMONA sits quietly, staring anxiously at the hideous paintings, avoiding all eye contact. KING LEAR is asleep. A receptionist sits at a desk nearby, typing on her computer. There is no change in their actions for a minute. Then, a bell rings and POLONIUS appears from the back door.

POLONIUS: I really think you should reconsider, my good sir, I promise I can-

RECEPTIONIST: You know the rules. Leave.

POLONIUS: I just think if he would reconsider- I mean- I know I’m good for the part. I could easily-

RECEPTIONIST: Enough.

Polonious stops, his mouth open. He rolls his eyes and turns towards the audience, grumbling. Words like “sell-out” and “he probably doesn’t even write his own plays” can be heard between mumbles. Regan stands up, her mirror back in her purse.

REGAN: How did it go? Did you get the part?

POLONIUS: No, I did not get the part. APPARENTLY I’m not ‘worthy’ of the part.

REGAN: (smirks) Figures.

POLONIUS: What is that supposed to mean?

REGAN: He must be waiting for me. Obviously no one is as deserving as I am.

JULIET: (starts laughing) Yeah, okay.

REGAN: What did you say, Suicide-Girl?

ROMEO: Don’t speak to her that way!

REGAN: Oh my apologies to the happy couple. Unlike you two lovesick puppy dogs, my life was worth something. And I died always staying true to that.

JULIET: Oh yes, because staying true to the love of your life and your love for money is soooooo the same thing.

REGAN: Not for money, Psycho Sister. For power. There’s a difference.

JULIET: Enlighten me.

REGAN: When my father, that lazy sack of potatoes over there, came to my two sisters and I with the promise of money, I was quick to tell him what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t my fault that it came with strings attached. Next thing I know, my sister is trying to steal MY man. And yeah, along the way I may have gouged an eye out or two, but Edmund was mine and Gonoril needed to know it. So I died trying to gain complete control over all that my sister tried to take from me.

JULIET: You died for greed; we died for love.

REGAN: You call that love?

JULIET: Our families didn’t want us to be together. I was betrothed to a man I did not love and I knew that I would lose the love of my life if I didn’t act on it quickly. I devised a plan so we could escape and live together without our families’ knowledge; however, due to-er-miscommunication, Romeo was misled to his death. It was an act of passion, really. And so I stabbed myself. All for him. (Smiles up at him and flutters her eyelashes flirtatiously).

ROMEO: And I would do it all over again for you. (They kiss).

REGAN: Ugh, please. I’m sure Anxiety-Girl over there has a better story than that.

DESDEMONA: Who, me?

REGAN: What are you? An owl?

DESDEMONA: No I-I died for…for nothing. She looks at the ground, a frown appearing on her face.

HAMLET: I’m-I’m sure that’s not true. He moves to a seat closer to her. You seem like a gr-gr-great person.

DESDEMONA: Thank you. It was awful, really. I guess you could say I died for love. Or really, love killed me.

HAMLET: How so?

DESDEMONA: I was in love with a man.

HAMLET: Did he not love you?

DESDEMONA: He did. I mean he did at first, then one day he just accused me of being something I most certainly was not. I was always faithful to him.

HAMLET: Why didn’t you tell him?

DESDEMONA: I tried to but I just never knew what to say so in the end I just let it happen.

HAMLET: Let what happen?

DESDEMONA: I let him kill me.

HAMLET: I-I’m so sorry. That sounds awful.

DESDEMONA: Thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to you?

HAMLET: One night a phantom came to me. It was my father. He told me of my destiny; I had to kill my uncle for revenge so that his spirit could finally rest. It seemed so simple to me; however, I found I was so lost in the planning, in the decision making, that when I finally seized the moment; it was the wrong man.

DESDEMONA: What did you do?

HAMLET: I took so long thinking about what to do and not doing it that I ended up giving my enemies just enough time to figure out my plan and concoct one to kill me as well. I was murdered by my uncle and his pawn.

DESDEMONA: Oh!

REGAN: Alright, enough with the pity party. If this heart-to-heart has told me anything, it’s that you losers have a LOT to learn. And definitely will not get the part in this new play.

They all begin to yell at once. Words like “love”, “I’m the star”, and “die” are heard. KING LEAR begins to stir, then awakens with a start. He looks at the screaming characters in horror. Then clears his throat.

KING LEAR: Enough! What is this foolishness? The characters fall silent. REGAN rolls her eyes.

REGAN: Oh, great, now we’re waking up the dead.

KING LEAR: Very funny, daughter. Now what was this ruckus all about?

REGAN: We’re trading death stories, Daddy-o. Wanna turn?

KING LEAR: Ah, well in that case, you’re all in for a treat. All my life, I believed that I Had raised three beautiful, devoted daughters. So when two of them were willing to proclaim their undying love for me but the other refused, I was quick to banish her. But that was my mistake. I couldn’t see clearly enough to realize that the one who refused to speak was the one most devoted of all. I gave my fortune to my other daughters who in turn used it against me—leaving me out in a storm and leading me into psychosis. But I didn’t lose it completely until I saw Cordelia- my only faithful daughter-dead. The grief consumed me, and eventually I died. I only wish I had opened my eyes sooner and saw what was right in front of me all along. REGAN sits back in her chair, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. The other characters look at the walls, the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but at each other as they think about this in silence. A bell dings.

RECEPTIONIST: Regan? Mr. Shakespeare will see you now.

Regan: Well, while you dimwits are sitting there, mourning your pathetic lives, I will be getting the part that I was destined for! She jumps up and exits the room. Blackout.

SCENE TWO

A well-furnished office. A dark maple desk sits in the center, in front of a fully-stocked bookshelf. The door opens, and REGAN enters, mid sentence, facing whomever is coming in behind her.

REGAN: I expect at least twelve ten minute breaks a day, as well as my own dressing room and personal stylist. I do not drink anything besides Fiji Water, and I do not get up at any time before 9 AM. Am I being clear? WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE walks in behind her, his eyes squinting and his lips pursed.

SHAKESPEARE: As understandable as your demands are, I do not believe I have granted you the part yet…

REGAN: (pats him on the shoulder) Come on, Willy. We both know I’m your best option.

SHAKESPEARE: I’m afraid not, Regan. It seems you have one tragic flaw.

REGAN: Ex-squeeze me? I am FLAWLESS.

SHAKESPEARE: I’m sure you think that’s true. But for this new play that I am writing, I need my characters to be utter perfection. I have written many plays, as you know. However, I always had to kill off so many of my characters, due to their tendency to develop tragic flaws. I just don’t know what happened!

REGAN: Yeah. I wonder what the common thread is…

SHAKESPEARE: (continuing as if he did not hear her) So now that I am developing this new play, I have all of you actors here to audition for the parts.

REGAN: Okay. So where are the lines at? Aren’t I here to do a reading?

SHAKESPEARE: Actually, no. I have decided that the characters in this new play must be without flaws. So if you want a part in this play, you must conquer your one flaw that led to your downfall.

REGAN: What does that mean? What do I have to do?

SHAKESPEARE: Your greed led to your downfall. You wanted power and control and were selfish and cruel. To get a part in my play, you must spend a day feeding the poor and hungry to prove you have overcome your vanity and greed.

REGAN: Is this a joke?

SHAKESPEARE: You have twenty-four hours. BLACKOUT.

SCENE THREE

Same setting as the scene before, only now papers are scattered across the desk. HAMLET enters.

HAMLET: So as you can see, my resume is v-v-very impressive. I am a thoughtful, considerate actor. I take my time with my actions and consider every option before I act. SHAKESPEARE enters behind him, mid eye roll.

SHAKESPEARE: Yes, I have noticed that. Well you see, you’re a fine actor, I’ll give you that. However, you must fix one thing before I give you a part in my new play.

HAMLET: Wha-what would that be?

SHAKESPEARE: First of all, fix the stutter. I know I didn’t give you that. Second, you need to fix your tragic flaw. I gave you lines, I spelled out exactly what you had to do, and what did you do instead? You wandered around, ‘to be or not to be’ all that mumbo jumbo and your indecisiveness, or as you so eloquently put it, ‘consideration’ led to your demise. So to fix this, I need you to make a decision.

HAMLET: O-okay. Yes. I decide yes.

SHAKESPEARE: That was not your decision, but great start! Alas, you must make one of mankind’s toughest decisions. You must complete a task that requires the shrewdest thinking. It is a task that many men have failed to complete and will continue to fail to complete until the end of time. This is a tough decision to make. But it must be done.

HAMLET: By God! Wha-what could you be asking of me?

SHAKESPEARE: You must make a decision…on what to order at a restaurant. BLACKOUT.

SCENE FOUR

Same office, however the previously scattered papers have been picked up and are in a stack. An open book is laid out on the desk, and papers are placed haphazardly in it. DESDEMONA is seated across the desk, her hands clasped as she nervously rocks back and forth on her chair. SHAKESPEARE is seated on the other side of the desk, his hands folded underneath his chin, his glasses perched on his nose.

SHAKESPEARE: Well?

DESDEMONA: I’m not sure what you’re asking me to do.

SHAKESPEARE: Your tragic flaw was your lack of assertiveness. You allowed the men around you to define you. This is what ultimately led to your downfall. You need to stand up for yourself.

DESDEMONA: You make it sound so easy.

SHAKESPEARE: It is.

DESDEMONA: How would you know? Are you a female living in a male-dominated society? How can you tell me that it is ‘so easy’ for a woman to stand up to a man when all my life I’ve been told to sit down and listen to the man?

SHAKESPEARE: Times are changing, my fair Desdemona. There is this new thing called ‘feminism’ arising. But alas, that is for another time, another play. I myself am not too fond of the idea, however, I do know that you allowed yourself to be murdered due to your inability to stand up for yourself.

DESDEMONA: So to get the part, I have to stand up for myself?

SHAKESPEARE: You must show assertiveness to a male. You have twenty-four hours.

SCENE FIVE

ROMEO is sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the chair, an eager smile on his face. JULIET sits next to him, her hands clutching his, a grin on her face as well. SHAKESPEARE sits across from them, his eyes on their hands, his face void of any sort of amusement. He sighs.

SHAKESPEARE: You two know that you’re very young…right?

JULIET: Very young and very in love.

ROMEO: Forever and always. They kiss passionately. Shakespeare shudders, appearing to be close to vomiting. He swallows, hard. Then he speaks.

SHAKESPEARE: You two died because of your love. You fell for each other before you had any sort of worldly experience. Therefore, to fix your mistakes and earn parts in my play, you must perform specific tasks.

ROMEO: We’ll do anything!

JULIET: Yes! As long as we end up together!

SHAKESPEARE: To be in my play, you two must get jobs.

JULIET: Motherhood is the ultimate job.

SHAKESPEARE: First of all, ew. Second of all, I will assign you two jobs. Complete it once and you shall both be in my play. (Pause). Together.

JULIET: We’ll do it!

ROMEO: Anything to be with my true love!

SHAKESPEARE: Wonderful. I’m glad you’re both so agreeable. Romeo, a boy your age should be out mowing lawns. Therefore, I assign you landscaping. Juliet, if motherhood is what you desire, I am willing to give you a firsthand look at what you desire. You will babysit. I’ll see you both tomorrow after you have finished your jobs. Then we shall see who is chosen for my new play. He exits.

ROMEO: Juliet, what if we don’t both make it? In the play, I mean?

JULIET: (taking his face in her hands) My love, don’t even say such silly things. No matter what happens, we will be together. If one of us does not make it, neither of us will make it. We must stay together, okay?

ROMEO: We will. (They passionately kiss. The light fades to darkness)

SCENE SIX

The same office. KING LEAR and SHAKESPEARE sit across from one another, both in the exact same position, with their chin in their hands, their eyes trained on one another. It appears as if the two are in a staring competition.

KING LEAR: Sir, with all due respect…you blinded me. So I’m not sure how you expect me to…expect me to…

SHAKESPEARE: Your blindness was present long before you lost your vision. You failed to see what was right in front of you. That was what led to your foolish actions and mistakes.

KING LEAR: So how do I fix that?

SHAKESPEARE: I would suggest laser eye surgery, but I’m pretty sure that hasn’t been discovered yet. So I want you to go to the glasses store and buy yourself the perfect pair of spectacles.

KING LEAR: Spectacles? What will that do for me?

SHAKESPEARE: When you find the perfect pair of glasses, you shall finally be able to see clearly.

KING LEAR: So I must enter this so-called ‘glasses store’ and try on glasses until I find the perfect pair!

SHAKESPEARE: Exactly!

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

The setting is a homeless shelter, the common grounds in particular, doubling as a soup kitchen. Throughout the room are homeless individuals seated on fold out chairs, in front of them bowls of soul on small end tables. To the right of the tables is a line filled with homeless people waiting to be served. Behind the table holding the pot of soup is REGAN dressed in attire inappropriate for the occasion, a fancy cocktail dress and heels, other than an apron that shows no signs of previous use. REGAN is complaining about her presence in the shelter more than helping serve the people in front of her. An older woman, presumably another volunteer, stands to the right of her, wearing an apron and hair net. She is serving food to homeless people and visibly ignoring REGAN.

REGAN: (holding a hair net) You can’t be serious...I am not going to wear this! Are we almost done? We’ve been here forever.

WOMAN: We’ve been here for less than thirty minutes. Please put your hair net on.

REGAN: (putting on hair net and muttering under her breath) Stupid play...homeless people...Shakespeare...sell out...probably didn’t even write his own plays…(REGAN takes a spoonful of pasta and slaps it onto a person’s plate. She continues this for three plates)

HOMELESS WOMAN: Bless your soul! (Reaches out and takes REGAN’s hand)

REGAN: Ew! Don’t touch me! (She lunges back in disgust and drops the spoon)

WOMAN: Regan! Go get another spoon!

REGAN: No way! Did you see how she touched me? I’m too pretty for this.

The scene freezes. REGAN looks around, confused. SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Tsk, tsk, Regan. I really thought you could do it.

REGAN: You gave me the most ridiculous task. People actually do this willingly?

SHAKESPEARE: Alas, your vanity and self-absorption once again prevails. I’m sorry, Regan, but you will not be cast in my new play.

REGAN: Whatever! I didn’t want to be in it anyways!

SCENE TWO

A dark-lit restaurant with posters and objects hanging on the walls. Red booths align the walls. HAMLET sits at a table in the center, holding a thick menu. He is flipping through it, visibly anxious. A tall brunette waitress appears, wearing all black and holding a notepad in her hand.

WAITRESS: Hi, my name’s Ella. I’ll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink?

HAMLET: Hello, E-ella. That’s a beautiful name.

ELLA: Thank you. Something to drink?

HAMLET: What would you suggest?

ELLA: Well, we have fountain drinks, milkshakes, wines, teas, coffee...whatever you’re in the mood for.

HAMLET: I...I don’t know what I’m in the m-mood for…

ELLA: I can start you off with water?

HAMLET: Y-yes...that would be lovely...

Ella exits

HAMLET: Okay...I need to order a meal. So let’s see here. Hamburgers, cheeseburgers, salads, chicken, steak...so many items.(His voice grows more panicked with each option) I could get breakfast...lunch...dinner...How is this even possible?

Ella enters

ELLA: Here’s your water. Have you made a decision?

HAMLET: Er...no…

ELLA: That’s okay, I can come back.

Ella exits

HAMLET: Okay, I need to decide. There’s pasta, sandwiches, pancakes...and sides? So many sides! Two sides for every meal? Why would they do this?

Ella enters

ELLA: Are you ready to order?

HAMLET: NO! How could a-anyone order off of this textbook you call a menu? What k-k-kind of torture is this? LEAVE ME!

The scene freezes. HAMLET is taking deep, jagged breaths. SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Really, Hamlet? You couldn’t decide on a meal?

HAMLET: You are the d-d-devil.

SHAKESPEARE: Well, your indecisiveness cost you your life and more importantly, a part in my new play. Sorry, buddy. Maybe enroll in some speech therapy?

SCENE THREE

Inside a restaurant DESDEMONA and a man sit in a booth looking through the menu. A waitress approaches the table to take the couple's order.

WAITRESS: Are you ready to order?

MAN: Yes we are. I would like the New York strip steak, rare please.

WAITRESS: Alright. And for you Miss? (the waitress looks to DESDEMONA. DESDEMONA opens her mouth to respond).

MAN: (interrupting) She’ll have a salad. (gives her a sideways look) Dressing on the side.

DESDEMONA: Um?

WAITRESS: Alright, anything else?

MAN: No, I think we’re good.

WAITRESS begins to walk away.

DESDEMONA: I don’t...uh…

WAITRESS: (turning back) I’m sorry?

MAN: Nothing, she’s fine.

WAITRESS: Oh, okay.

DESDEMONA: No! I am not fine!

WAITRESS: Excuse me?

DESDEMONA: I don’t want a salad. And I definitely don’t want you. (Turns to waitress) I’d like a cheeseburger and fries, please. And a new table. (Gets up) Goodbye! (As she walks away, SHAKESPEARE appears and grabs her arm. She jerks it away from him, thinking it is her date)

SHAKESPEARE: Ah, you’ve done well! (She turns around, surprised, then pleased) You stood up for yourself and your desires and proved to be assertive. I would be honored if you played a role in my latest play.

SCENE FOUR

Outside of a house a truck pulls up and from inside ROMEO and an older man come out. The man watches as ROMEO unloads the lawn mowing equipment from the back of the truck and laughs as he struggles to mount the lawnmower.

MAN: Young man, we have three lawns to mow in just this neighbor. Do you think you can hurry up and start mowing already?

ROMEO: Oh, sure. (MAN exists) How does one even work this strange thing?

Finding the ignition, he climbs into the lawn mower and begins mowing the lawn. He looks up at the sky and the lawn mower begins to swerve. He does not notice.

ROMEO: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the… (ROMEO sighs and crashes the lawnmower into a house. He gasps and jumps out, running his hands through his hair in shock)

The scene freezes. SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Love is too distracting for someone of such a young age, Romeo. Someone who cannot perform such a simple adolescent job like lawn mowing is not old enough to experience love. Youth is the problem. You are not old enough for the part.

SCENE FIVE

A tall woman dressed in a sparkling blue dress is leading JULIET down a marble hallway. Expensive paintings align the walls.

MS. WOODS: So this is my home. I have three boys, Tommy, Frank and Alex. Tommy is eight, Frank is five, and Alex is four. My husband and I will be home around midnight. Any questions?

JULIET: None at all, madam. Have a wonderful night!

MS. WOODS practically races out of the house, not looking back once. Three boys enter. One is half Juliet’s height, with a backwards red baseball cap on his head. He is TOMMY. The second boy, FRANK, who is shorter, is holding a toy airplane. The toddler, ALEX, is holding TOMMY’s hand.

JULIET: Hello, boys! My, my, what are we up to?

FRANK: Will you play with us?

JULIET: Oh, of course! Would you like to play cards? Or perhaps some board games?

ALEX: Cars!

TOMMY: Will you play with the cars with us? (FRANK and ALEX wander off)

JULIET: Surely! Where can I find them? (There is a crash)

TOMMY: (smiling devilishly) Looks like they just did.

SCENE SIX

A carpeted room. JULIET is tied to a chair in the middle with a jumprope. ALEX is playing with a car by her feet. FRANK and TOMMY are crashing their monster truck toys into each other.

JULIET: Boys! This is not acceptable! Untie me!

FRANK: (zooming his car around the room) Vroom! Vroom!

TOMMY: (lunges for Frank, smashing his truck into his and also tackling him to the ground)

FRANK: Ow! That hurt!

JULIET: Boys! Now!

TOMMY: Oh, be quiet.

FRANK: Tommy, that really hurt! (Alex begins to cry. Tommy begins to zoom his monster truck around the room, making car noises while Frank keeps repeating, “ow, that hurt!”)

JULIET: ENOUGH! (The boys fall silent). I have had enough! Untie me right now, Thomas.

TOMMY: (unties JULIET quickly)

JULIET: Thank you. Now boys, your behavior has been unacceptable. All three of you will sit in time out for a few minutes to make up for it. Am I clear?

TOMMY: Yes…

FRANK: Sorry.

ALEX: Sorry.

(The scene freezes. JULIET rolls her eyes and begins to clean up the mess of toys that the boys have made. SHAKESPEARE appears.)

SHAKESPEARE: I have to say, I am impressed. You really pulled that off.

JULIET: They’re lovely boys. They just needed a firmer hand.

SHAKESPEARE: And you were able to do that. You really have shown me that you are able to overcome your foolishness to get a job done. I would be honored if you would take a part in my new play.

JULIET: Oh, thank you!

(Blackout)

SCENE SEVEN

KING LEAR is walking around a room filled with glasses and mirrors. He is wandering about, looking frightened as he takes in the scenery. He stops at a table and picks up a pair of glasses. Upon taking them, he gasps and drops them to the floor. A sales associate appears almost immediately, a pair of glasses perched on her nose and a stern face.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Can I help you?

KING LEAR: Erm…I need a pair of these spectacles.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Well, alright. What kind of frame would you like?

KING LEAR: Frame? For pictures?

SALES ASSOCIATE: No, the shape of your lense. There’s square, rectangle, circle, oval…

KING LEAR: Oh, I don’t know! (He begins to sway, as if about to faint) I think I’m seeing stars…

SALES ASSOCIATE: Sorry, our glasses don’t come in that shape. (Pause) Have a seat. I’ll get you some glasses to try on. (He sits)

KING LEAR: How will I know which is the right pair?

SALES ASSOCIATE enters, holding three pairs of glasses.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Here, try this.

She hands him a pair of rectangle glasses. He tries them on, and exaggeratedly blinks. He looks up at her and gasps.

KING LEAR: I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING! IT’S ALL A BLUR!

SALES ASSOCIATE: That’s fine, take them off. They’re clearly not for you. (He takes them off and sighs happily. She hands him another pair.) Try this.

KING LEAR: (Putting on the new pair) Everything seems clear… (Turns to look at her) Oh my! You’re green!

SALES ASSOCIATE: They’re tinted. It’s all the rage with teens nowadays.

KING LEAR: I can’t wear green glasses! Everyone looks like an ogre! (Lowers voice and fakes a Scottish accent) Get out of my swamp!

SALES ASSOCIATE: Okay, Shrek. Give them here. (He hands her the glasses) Hm..alright. Try these ones. (She hands him a circle-framed pair)

KING LEAR: (Putting them on) Hm… (He gets up and looks around, exaggeratedly blinking) These seem...okay…

REGAN enters, stomping on the ground, her hair a mess and her face red with anger.

REGAN:(yelling) Daddy! I need you to take care of Shakespeare for me! That sell-out said I wasn’t good enough to be in his play! You need to do something!

KING LEAR leaps back in fear and points at her, his hand shaking.

KING LEAR: Evil! Evil! I can see it clearly now! EVIL!

REGAN: What are you even saying? Ugh, whatever. I’m going to have to take care of him myself. (Begins to exit, mumbling to herself) I’ll just tell everyone he didn’t write his own plays...that should do it!

KING LEAR: My...I can see! I see her for what she truly is!

SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Yes, you have found the perfect pair. Not the most attractive, but nonetheless, the perfect pair. Now that you can see everything as it is for what it truly is, I have a part in my play just for you.

KING LEAR: I would love to be in it.

SCENE EIGHT

The seven characters, REGAN, HAMLET, DESDEMONA, JULIET, ROMEO, KING LEAR, and POLONIUS, are standing behind a curtain. They are all standing quietly, looking nervous and frightened. REGAN is staring at herself in her compact mirror. HAMLET is tapping his foot. DESDEMONA is biting her nails. JULIET and ROMEO are holding hands. KING LEAR is wearing his new glasses and glancing about the room in awe, and POLONIUS is nervously stroking the curtain.

POLONIUS: This curtain seems rather...familiar. I’m getting a bad feeling from it.

REGAN: Quiet, Grandpa.

There is a loud drumming noise. The curtain lifts and the seven characters walk out onto a stage. SHAKESPEARE is standing in the center, a smile on his face.

SHAKESPEARE: Welcome to my theatre! It’s called the Globe. Here, only the best performers act in the best shows for only the most worthy of audiences!

REGAN: (Feigning a whisper but actually very loud) It smells awful in here!

SHAKESPEARE: (pretending he did not hear her but a look of annoyance has crossed his face) And now, I will read you your fate!

HAMLET: F-f-fate?

SHAKESPEARE: I gave all of you tasks to complete to fix your fatal flaws. If you were able to, you have a part in my play written specifically for you. But if you didn’t, you will leave here, and never come back. (Long dramatic pause. It lasts for a whole minute, and the characters begin to shift uncomfortably)

DESDEMONA: So did we-

SHAKESPEARE: Shush! (Pause. He sighs) I was pausing for dramatic effect. Gosh. (He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he sucks in air. His eyes open, and the devilish grin has appeared once again on his face) Here we go. (His voice takes on the tone very similar to a game show host) You’ve all worked up to this moment. But only a select few of you will be chosen. This is it, everyone. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. (Pause) Desdemona, step forward. (She steps forward) Now, Desdemona, step backward. (She steps backward). Now, step forward. (She steps forward)

REGAN: What, is she doing the cha cha? (All the other characters laugh.)

SHAKESPEARE: (rolling his eyes) I’m just trying to keep you all on your toes. (Turns to DESDEMONA) Okay, stay in the front line. Juliet, take a step forward. (She steps forward) Good. King Lear, take a step forward. (KING LEAR steps forward) Okay. Those of you in the front...you are all… (Pause) In my next play! Congratulations! Back row, I’m sorry, but this is the end of the road for you.

HAMLET: What? No!

REGAN: Sell out!

POLONIUS: I knew this would happen! HAMLET, REGAN and POLONIUS begin to argue while DESDEMONA and KING LEAR hug and chatter excitedly. SHAKESPEARE stands proudly, his hands on his hips, a smug grin on his face.

ROMEO: (runs over to JULIET, taking her hands.) I’m so sorry I couldn’t get in the play, Juliet. But I promise you, we will get into the next one. (Begins to lead her away)

JULIET: What are you doing?

ROMEO: I didn’t get into the play. If one of us didn’t make it, neither of us would make it, remember?

JULIET: (Pulling her hand away) Yeah… I changed my mind.

ROMEO: (recoils back in shock, his eyes wide) Changed your-changed your mind? Why that’s-that’s preposterous! You can’t change your mind! Not when it comes to love!

JULIET: See, that’s what I’m saying. Everything with you is about love. It’s all serious and sappy, like (mimics a male voice) oh, Juliet, I love you so much, I’d die without you, uhhh… (voice returns to normal) Babysitting those boys made me realize the responsibilities that I’ll have to take when I have children. And honestly, I am so not ready for that. And neither are you. I’m sorry, Romeo, but I’m taking this part. Without you.

ROMEO: (sputtering) But-but, Juliet...You can’t-you can’t-

JULIET: What are you? Hamlet? (She spins around and walks away, hugging DESDEMONA then KING LEAR, leaving ROMEO alone)

SHAKESPEARE approaches him and pats him on the back.

SHAKESPEARE: It’s okay, lad. All’s well that ends well! (Blackout)

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