#shit i forgot the ushanka

[raiain]

desktop bg dazai... wip

[boxwinebaddie]

HI Uncle Nina <3 Can we hear about how your Rm!Style met as kids?

listen, you guys. i am SO excited for this!!! words cannot express how excited it makes me when i get to talk about the prequel, like they are sooo stikin' cute in the prequel!!! ilysm baby raven and jersey. MWAH!

*eldritchhorror!kenny!nina cracks knuckles n opens up a portal* okay girls, gays n gays, we're going on a field trip,

TO THE PAST!

( i’m chaotic bi ms. frizzle in the pink y2k hello kitty bus )

so, i gotta be honest, my friends, i don't know EXACTLY how old the boys are, but i am gonna say they are anywhere between 6-8 y/o. it's summer time and the broflovski's have just moved to southern park, colorado from sheila's hometown in new jersey...and have moved in right next door...to the marsh family, namely:

ravenstanley r.w. marsh.

who i am using as a primary narrator...FOR ONCE!

because to tell you this was the best day of his life was an goddamn understatement...to tell you that this changed his life, even, is a fkn understatement because this moment, this fateful day GAVE HIS ENTIRE LIFE MEANING. meeting kyle broflovski...was Everything.

again, it wasn't just like 'oh, this boy who moved next door to me is kinda cute, i might have a crush on him'

It Was Dead Serious, Guys.

a teeny tiny, itsy bitsy, ickle ravenstanley marsh heard a single loud, angry, brutal note of the kyle broflovski new jersey slaughterhouse and was immediately irreversibly head over heels IN LOVE with him.

fresh from jersey kyle asked stan if he could open his fresca and the man's synesthesia was flashing, spinning, ringing and dinging like he was playing the world's biggest slot machine and just hit JACKPOT.

and that was before he got a good look at him because...

Wooooowza. <3

all the hundreds of little freckles speckled over his skin like sun-stars, his big, beautiful curly red hair, his gorgeous, glowering mean, green eyes ravenstan was legitimately Breathtaken by kyle's beauty, omfg.

however, the funniest part abt all of this to me is that poor sweet pre!rm rae is legitimately having divine visions and hearing angelic choirs, meanwhile pre!rm jers is just staring blankly at this weird, giant-eyed freaky mouth-breathing rural colorado kid ( who ig is his neighbor now, smh ) that's just staring up at him and sweating and shaking and looks like he's having a Stroke.

edit: i forgot to describe what they looked like so know that ravenstan had come out of the house because his mom told him to say hi to the neighbors and help them with boxes and stuff, say hi to their son, etc.

i think his hair is shoulder length, but its in a lil ponytail, he's in randy's gigantic black sabbath t-shirt, probably has a gigantic edgy boy temp tattoo of a skull or a snake on his neck, smh, little like hot wheels, boy section of target-esqe stickers all over his face and arms, little other edgy elementary school boy marker tattoos on his arms because he literally has always been a rockstar.

meanwhile, jersey, in canon ncu baby kyle fashion, is wearing his gigantic kyle signature orange coat and green ushanka IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER because he is self conscious and sheila bought both on sale at the mall during summer when the winter stuff is all half up because she's a thrifty queen and wants him to get wear out of them and break them in...smh.

so he is sweating like hell and just wants to get his fresca open, which is very vintage and still comes in the bottle.

but regarding The Fresca Of Fate,

stan Does eventually ( open / it. )

...in the most chaotic, unhinged way possible, btw.

which is that baby ravenstan bites, rips and twists the cap off with his teeth like a feral fucking animal ( which i think happened because he was legitimately panicking like holy shit, what do i do, what the Fuck do i doooo?!?! i don't know how to get this open but the beautiful spotty boy w/ the perfect voice asked me to do it, so ¡oRALE! )

note: it is this party trick that he'd seen randy do a couple of times and just replicated, but totally ripped his lip open in the process, btw.

anyways, rae hands the fresca back to baby jersey and because he is a fkn idiot but also a superstar ( i love u raven ) shoots kyle the signature stanley marsh wink-peace sign-finger gun combo wombo.

and jersey is just SHOOK because that was, in fact, criminally insane, but also...kinda cool? and an oddly touching gesture because he could have just handed the bottle back or said go fuck yourself, new kid! because he didn't give a shit about this kid from next door and his parents were both busy...but wanted kyle to have his little drinky poo so bad that he literally busted his lip open turning into a can-opener for ky...and did the cutest, weirdest most awkward hand-sign ever.

tldr; it was brave and reckless and boyish and radiant. and kyle, who usually is highly disgusted by the germs of other people...finds that brings the lip of the fresca bottle to his with ease, sips his drink, which tastes like victory and probably a bit like cinnamon red hots, watches his weirdo neighbor give him the wink peace sign finger gun combo and is so weirdly endeared by this that he...

gives stan a rare kyle smile and even rarer kyle laugh. :’)

and this is so glorious and gorgeous to ravenstan that he literally cannot breathe, his heart is pounding in his chest, he is fkn shaking, goes to say something and immediately THROWS UP ALL OVER KYLE AND PASSES OUT. skhdlksahdsh HEEEEELP NO.

but yeah...that's how dad and dad met. please note that in canon ncu fashion ravenstan followed jersey around like a lovesick puppy, ignoring all of the kids trying to get his attention and play with him, desperate for kyle to acknowledge his existence for literally five seconds or accept his offer of being super best friends...

all the while, jerseykyle is trying to get away from him because he doesn't like other people, doesn't want to be friends, just wants to be left alone and be alone skhdld and is like weird kid with the giant eyeballs PLEASE FUCK OFF ( this does make stan fall more in love with him, stan i need you to go to therapy for the type of guys u like ) and this apathy and disinterest continues until...

stan takes the stark's pond hockey puck for him.

and suddenly, kyle's cold dead heart starts beating again, he sees ravenstan in the hospital recovering from slicing his face and mouth open again, who smiles so hard he RIPS his stitches open again, smh and from that moment on, they are Super Best Friends.

but both secretly want something more, legend says.

-uncle nina, obsessed with the prequel <3

[aldarquen]

Silmarillion (and LOTR) characters as things my friends have said: Part 5 (Camp Staff Reunion addition!)

Fëanor: “Who’s pulling into our driveway..” Finwë: “The Feds… They’re coming for you.” Gimli: “And that’s all I’m hired for: Comic Relief.” *canned laughter*

Tar-Mairon: *posts pic of random food* Ar-Pharazon: “Is that sweet and sour?” Tar-Miriel: “Is it even food?” Tar Mairon: “Blood.”🤪 Thranduil: *takes sip from glass* “You know what that tastes like? Another one.” Everybody else: *playing games in the snow* Mandos: *pulls a skeleton out of his car*

Celegorm: “I would do some shady shit for one of those good pulled pork sandwiches.” Maedhros: “You know what? I’m out. I don’t even wanna know…” Istari: *gets matching flannel shirts Radagast: *goes a step further by wearing Carhartt overalls and an ushanka* “Leaf peep that Forest Fit.” Finrod: *starts singing VeggieTales theme during party* Sauron: “Everyone, I heard that there’s some wild dogs roaming amok around so be careful!”

Maedhros, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Ambarussa: *start shouting over Cards against Humanity* Maglor: *walks in* “I DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE YELLING ABOUT!” Pippin: “Almost forgot: breakfast!” *bag of m&ms* Celegorm: “So much potential for eel-related activities! One night, you’re gonna wake up with copious amounts of eels in your sleeping quarters!” Maglor: *chokes on drink* “Um excuse you, no I’m fucking not.” Amrod: “You said you needed more staff for washing dishes? Do you know my little brother? He’d love working in the kitchen!. Just ignore him if he starts complaining or trying to leave: we can always get chains…”

Frodo: *pokes his head up into attic* Legolas (already in attic): “Awww you’re like a little prairie dog!”

Fëanor: (from the other room) "Oops I fucked up.." *wood stove noises* *fire alarms screech*

[faunusrights]

yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

=

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.

[pretty-face-breaker]

Those Sunday Evenings

c.w. post-whipping, non-sexual nudity, being cuffed to a bed post, military whump, intimidation and abuse of power 

Tagging: @straight-to-the-pain

——

It took a slim ray of sun striking between Emir’s eyes to wake him. 

As he drew in his first full breath, his eyelashes fluttered, giving the mattress in front of him shape. Only a moment later did he become aware of the raw ache in his bare back and he gasped, breathing in the rough fibres of the blanket all at once. His body shook with a sneeze and as his hands went to shield the blanket, there only came an awful jerk and click. 

Emir tugged again as his heart sank. Another click, reassuring that both his wrists were cuffed in place to the bedpost.

A rough voice pierced from behind. “Awake already I see.”  

Emir jerked up and tried his best to turn around but could only manage to crane his neck far enough back to see what he assumed to be the General’s coat - a dull blue, almost entirely washed out. Is this what they think dresses the higher ranks well? The sardonic thought passed in a flash and he turned almost immediately, wary that the General may have read the insult in his eyes.  

“Not even good morning?” Levkin leaned and set a hand on Emir’s shoulder, laughing deep in his throat when he tensed and shifted against the cuffs on cue. “Do not worry, I am not here to hurt you again. Only to let you out for now.” 

The For now brought Emir’s fear rushing back as soon as it settled. 

Levkin could have noticed the change in breathing, and if he did it would have only delighted him further. Keeping his promise, he grabbed Emir’s cuffs and unlocked them with two, three frustrated tugs when the gadget didn’t give immediately. Emir thought he heard him mutter “Piece of shit” under his breath as he undid them and threw them aside. 

Emir could have laughed and quipped about Soviet equipment if his position wasn’t nearly as precarious. 

“... If-... if I may be so bold, General,” Emir started, taking a second to gingerly rub over the red marks settled in his wrists, and cautious with his tone, “how long am I to?-” 

A snapping interruption from the man came as if second nature. “Did you have your ears plugged when I told you? I said the barracks, boy.” 

Emir gulped, regretting he hadn’t thought over the question before going ahead. It had always been a weakness, his mouth. Unless he wanted a repeat of the previous night where the whip had done away for close to half a merciless hour, skin bruised and hurting in stripes where each one felt like dull fire even now, he felt the ever increasing need to be cautious, cautious, cautious. The General had a temper, and one that he wouldn’t be able to tell from his face.

His face never changed. 

“My apologies, sir,” he returned. 

Caution. Atac. 

He kept his eyes down as he stood and it was then that he fully realized just how bare he was, with his shirt gone and his pants only hanging off his hips. His face ignited with humiliation as he spun away. the resounding chuckles from the General making him want to sink further into the floor more than he had ever wanted to before.

Uncharacteristically, Levkin seemed to pity him for his state and grunted before handing him back a crumpled jacket that hung loosely from his thumb. Emir close to snatched it and slipped it on all at once, fumbling with the buttons and belt rapidly. That was when he noticed that two uniformed men were peaking through the door of the bedroom, one of whom had his arms tucked into the small of his back. 

Pinned between all three, Emir’s breathing went shallower. 

Levkin looked over to the corner that had caught Emir’s eye. “These two will be escorting you to the barracks. You will be issued your uniforms and then given further instructions.” He paused for a moment, letting Emir compose himself after the embarrassment and absorb the information again. “And once again, soldier…” 

Emir glanced up, suddenly unsettled by how his voice sunk. 

“You are under the Red Star. Krasnaya Zvezda. Is this understood?” He stepped forward, that same icy look swallowing his face whole so totally that Emir’s answer was spelled out before him. Each letter clear as day in those furrowed brows and icicle eyes tucked beneath them that held him in place. The General’s voice was thick with pride and order. “I want no problems from you, soldier, if you are even dignified of that title.” 

Emir tensed at that final hiss. “Yes, sir. Yes-... I- I understand.” He couldn’t tell if Levkin had beckoned in the men standing at the door already but they were entering and heading for him, both a good foot taller than himself-both with batons. His fingers curled into his fists, catching sight of them and a phantom pain shot through his ribs at the crawling memory of the guard with the hunch. 

“Don’t think they will ever save you.” That guard had told him and he hadn’t believed it at first. 

He was led out of the bedroom, through the home, and outside where snow lightly drifted through the sky, the soundless kind he liked to watch sometimes with a sahlab on the window sill from which he would take little spoonfuls. His sisters in the background would often quarrel over who’s had more seeds. It would always be early evening, similar to this one.

Similar and not at all the same. Those Sunday evenings.

Emir ducked his head to climb into the backseat of the car with one of the men, not caring to make a distinction as they looked close to identical. They didn’t speak for much of the drive and for that, he was deeply grateful. He could watch the snow in silence, ignoring the quiet rumble of the engine.  

Somewhere halfway through the trip, he felt that one of the men’s breathing had changed direction and particularly in his own. Though each second that he compelled himself to ignore it, his nerves ground together more and more until he eventually glanced back and met the man. 

He was curiously peeking down through the shadow of the black ushanka and his eyes didn’t seem… as hard anymore. Although granted, he hadn’t looked at them even in Levkin’s house. Neither of them. 

“A soldier in that house personally invited by Stas, no less?” he asked with a hint of a smirk. His voice was modulated albeit heavy with an accent and in an undertone, as if he didn’t want the driver to hear. “How did that happen, huh soldier?”    

Emir looked from his fur hat to the window behind him, the passing trees and how they blurred together so familiarly on the path, just as they had on those Sunday evenings. Almost forgot to answer the question, lost in the trance of the rushing trees. 

“Not a soldier,” he responded honestly and upon seeing the curious prick of his eyebrows, probably at his own accent, added in a softer tone. “Just an-... an addition.”  

—

[bungou-stray-dingus]

I love the one you write about Dazai having a new infant. Could you do the same with Fyodor(・∀・)

a/n : Fyodor is both a baby and an asshole and I love him wholeheartedly. He deserves to be happy too. Thank you for the request!

Fyodor Dostoevsky

You were the purest thing in existence according to Fyodor. He loved you, that much was clear even without him verbally saying so. You didn't have an ability, and you always took care of him  whenever he came home both physically, mentally and emotionally. He worked himself too hard, and it worried you deeply considering his anemia. You'd check in on him constantly to make sure that he was getting enough sleep, that he was eating and he was drinking enough water. Whenever he came home you made sure to give him enough love and affection to make up for the time he missed when he was away.

He was just waking up, always the early riser and he gently kissed your temple before scooting out of the bed, making sure not to wake you in the process. He loved the way your hair would curtain your face, your lips slightly parted as you slept peacefully. He always thought you looked beautiful, but there was something so mesmerizing to him about the way you looked when you slept, he couldn't explain it. You rolled over, your hand absentmindedly reaching out to his side of his bed, feeling around for him, a small pout forming on your face as your eyes slowly fluttered open. "Good morning, dearest." His voice was still coated with sleepiness, and mixed with his accent it was beyond sexy.

You rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was only five in the morning, the sun hadn't even risen over the city yet. "You're leaving already?" He nodded to you as he began dressing himself, his fingers carefully buttoning his shirt as his eyes stayed focused on you. "Hmph... well, I'll make you some breakfast before you go." You moved to get out of bed and he shook his head, softly pushing you back down on the pillow, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Get back to sleep. I'll grab something before I go. I promise." He wrapped his pinky around yours, something that you had begun doing with him whenever you promised something. It showed that you were serious about it, you never break a pinky promise, and he took it just as serious as you did. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips as he brushed your hair out of your face.

"When will you be back?" You asked, reaching up to brush your fingers against his face, his skin was always so cold, but you had long since gotten used to the temperature difference between the two of you. He shrugged after pressing one last kiss to your lips and then pushing himself up off the bed. "What do you mean..." You mimicked his shrug as you propped yourself up on the bed, your eyes following him around the room as he grabbed his cloak, ushanka, and boots.

He hesitated next to the door, you heard his sigh before he turned to look back at you. "I don't know, but I'll keep in touch, and I'll try to be back as soon as possible. Now go back to bed." He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You grabbed one of his pillows and held it over your face as you fell back onto your own pillows and started crying. You hated when he left, you never knew if he would come back, and that terrified you.

One Month Later

Fyodor hadn't returned home yet, but he wasn't the only thing that hadn't come to you as you thought it would. You sat on the edge of your bed, a bed that seemed ridiculously large whenever he wasn't there with you, and you swiped through the calendar on your phone. "One week, two weeks, three weeks, four weeks... five weeks... six weeks... seven...?" You counted the weeks over and over again, just to make sure you weren't miscounting. "Shit." You groaned, getting up off the bed and grabbing your shoes out of the closet. He hated when you left the house without him, he always made sure the house was properly stocked before he left so you would be able to avoid leaving at all, unless it was necessary. This seemed pretty damn necessary though, and the store was only a block away.

You walked in and made your way to the aisle with the tests, grabbing four boxes, just to be sure. It didn't hurt to be 200% sure, you know, just in case the first test was a fluke or something. You weren't really sure what you would do if they came back positive, and you definitely weren't ready for Fyodor's reaction if they were positive either. He didn't seem like the type of man that would want a child, especially not right now considering the mission he was on. He was barely ever home, the kid would barely ever see his or her own father.

When you got back to the house you ran to the bathroom, sitting on the lid of the toilet and reading the directions of the tests. Sure, they were pretty simple, but you just wanted to be sure that you took them correctly so there weren't any false results. You were stressed, and you cursed Fyodor for not being there with you right now when you needed him the most. You would feel a lot better if he was there to comfort you in the moment, to make you feel like it wouldn't be as bad if those tests came back positive, but no, his work came first.

The tests sat on the back of the toilet, your phone was in your hand, the timer set for five minutes as you paced the length of your bedroom. You picked up on the habit of biting the tip of your thumb from Fyodor, and you were biting it so hard that it had started to bleed. "Dammit..." you sighed, walking into the bathroom to grab a band-aid for your freshly self inflicted wound. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tests on the back of the toilet, and you immediately forgot about your bleeding thumb, your eyes scanning over all four tests that had a combined total of eight pink lines. "Oh... shit...." You mumbled, your heart was racing and your vision became cloudy as tears began to build on your lower lashes.

You had to call him, you had to let him know, but you didn't even know if it was safe for you to do so at the moment. He hadn't texted or called since last night, and you were sure that he was out somewhere, if you called him it could draw attention and he could get hurt. So you had to wait, you had to wait for him. You were left alone with your thoughts for God knows how long, and your anxiety would only build more and more until that moment comes.

By the time he called five hours later, it was nine o'clock at night and you were sitting on the couch curled up in one of his cloaks, angrily eating a tub of ice cream while crying about the movie on the television screen. You hadn't realized how quick the hormone charged emotions would kick in, but they were evident now. You had never cried at a movie before, and here you were ugly crying into your Rocky Road while still internally fuming at your fiance who was no where around when you needed him most.

You grabbed your phone and answered it quickly, holding it up to your ear. "'Bout time you called." You said snidely, but the sound of your sniffles was what got his attention.

"You're crying. Are you alright, my love? Is there something wrong?" He chided, hoping to pull an answer out of you, and you let out a dry, humorless chuckle.

"Is there something wrong? Well I sure as hell think there is! You're never around when I need you, and I'm stuck going through shit all by myself and there's tears in my ice cream and you're not fucking home!" You shouted at him through the phone, your voice cracking whenever you reached octaves that you were unaware you could go to.

"Hmmm, my love is upset. What can I do to possibly make her feel better?" His voice was soft and velvety through the phone and as much as it used to comfort you before, it was only upsetting you more now.

"You could come home so I can talk to you in person."

"You know I can't do-"

"Fyodor, I'm pregnant." You said, closing your eyes, bracing for his reaction. He was quiet, and you wished that you could see his face right now, but all you got was silence. It was deafening, and his silence was much more scary right now. You wanted him to say something, you needed to know that he was still there.

"Are you sure?" He asked after what seemed like an eternity of silence, and you sighed, letting your head fall back against the cushion of the couch. Of course he would ask that, he wasn't here to see the four tests that all showed positives, he wasn't here for anything.

"Yes. I'm sure." Your anger hit you again. This wasn't a conversation you should be having over the damn phone. This should be an exciting time for you and your fiance, but instead, due to his constant absence, you were scared, and you were alone. "But you know what, I'll handle it myself, just like I handle everything else. Hope your mission goes well. I'm going to bed." You hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table. You shrugged out of Fyodor's cloak and turned off the television, grabbing the empty jug of ice cream off the table and tossing it into the trash as you made your way to your bedroom.

You shut the door and locked it behind you before undressing and changing into your pajamas, climbing into your bed and pulling the comforters up to your chin. You finally fell asleep as the tears formed puddles in the divots of the pillow.

The sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen startled you awake, the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs filled your nostrils, the sun was shining brightly into your room, you saw dust particles floating around in the large beam of light. You stretched as you got out of bed, sliding the slippers onto your feet and wrapping your robe tightly around your body before you left the room to inspect what was going on.

When you opened the door, the first thing you saw were the rose petals that created a trail down the hallway. You hummed to yourself as you followed the trail around the corner to the kitchen, and you could have sworn that your heart grew three sizes at the image. A bouquet of white roses, lavender, and purple hydrangeas. They stood in a beautiful crystal vase, and sitting in front of the vase was a large white teddy bear with two smaller teddy bears, pink and blue, on each side.

"What are you doing home so soon?" You asked as you leaned in and smelt one of the roses. He turned to face you, a small smile on his face as he took you in. Whenever he came home, it was like falling in love with you all over again. He could never get over how absolutely gorgeous you were. He placed the spatula on the counter as he made his way over to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close against his chest.

"I know I'm gone a lot, I apologize for my absence. I wasn't here when I should have been, but I'm here now."

                                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fyodor was never one to express his emotions well, but your pregnancy had changed him, and he began trying. He wanted to be there for everything, every moment of your pregnancy he wanted to experience it with you. Not only was it exciting for him, but he also found it fascinating. He still went out for his missions, but he was never gone quite as long as he used to be. The longest he was ever gone since your pregnancy became known was two weeks, and even then he called every hour, on the hour to check in on you.

When he was home, he was actually quite over bearing. You never complained though, it was nice having him around so much. Every step you took, he was right behind you. He didn't want you to lift a finger. He learned how to cook so you wouldn't have to, he even did the laundry, although you had to help him at first so he wouldn't destroy any of your clothes. He was very invested in your pregnancy, learning everything he needed to know so that he was prepared for everything and anything.

Your morning sickness came later in your pregnancy, and it was a scheduled occurrence, one that he knew very well. Whenever the time came he was already helping you off the couch to get you to the bathroom, holding your hair behind your back as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He had a cup of water and mouthwash prepared on the counter for afterwards, and he'd help you back to the couch after you were done. He'd bring you a couple saltine crackers to fill your stomach and another glass of water and he'd sit next to you on the couch, holding his hand against your forehead, helping to cool you down after you worked up a sweat from your retching.

He came to every doctors appointment, although he had to wear a disguise due to being one of the most wanted terrorists in Yokohama, it made you happy that he was there. If one your appointments fell on a day that he was out for one of his missions, he would be found waiting outside the doctors office for you to show up. He wouldn't miss a doctors appointment for anything, he would be caught dead before that ever happened.

When he found out you were having twins he became extremely over protective of you and your stomach. He always had a hand on your growing abdomen, tracing your stretch marks with his icy fingers. Whenever you felt self conscious about them, he would place kisses across your stomach and remind you how beautiful it was that you were growing and glowing with two of his children.

Whenever he did have to leave for missions he brought the ultrasound pictures with him, he would look at the pictures and they were a constant reminder to him that the world needed to be ridden of its sin before they came. He needed to cleanse the world so his children could grow up in a society free of sin.

During one of your doctors appointments at six months the doctor told you that you had high blood pressure and needed to be on bed rest for the safety of the babies and yourself. Fyodor enforced that rule, and he stopped going on missions completely. He had his "rats" do his work for him, and they would report to him at the end of the day. He refused to leave your side. When you had to use the bathroom, he would help you onto the toilet and then stand in the doorway with his back turned until you were done, and then he'd help you up. It was embarrassing at first, but you ended up getting used to it, and you knew that he was only doing it because he worried so much. He helped you bathe, sitting on the edge of the bathtub to wash your hair and your body, always murmuring to himself how beautiful you looked. He would only leave the room to cook your meals, and then he would bring those meals to you in bed and feed them to you.

Since you couldn't do shopping at the store, he would lay with you in bed, his laptop on his lap as he scrolled through websites, ordering everything that your eyes lingered on for longer than two seconds. Your front door was filled constantly with packages because according to him, money wasn't a problem if he was spending it on you and the babies. Their bassinets were both a pristine white and they were set up in the corner of your bedroom. He said nurseries were useless until they were about a year and half, that they needed to be with their parents until then because there's a lot of complications that could occur with a child that young while they were sleeping and it would be safer for them to be as close as possible if anything were to happen. You did not argue, there was no point in arguing with that logic.

When he found out that the children were a girl and a boy he was overjoyed. He got both a son and a daughter in one try, it was truly a blessing to him. He started making a list of potential baby names and you both stayed up late at night looking through the names until you both agreed on two.

Elizaveta for your daughter and Iosif for your son. Picking their names made it more real for him, it was more concrete now. He would often lay his head against your stomach, cooing in Russian to the children. They would usually kick when he did this, and whenever they did he would quickly look up to you and ask if you were okay, and then lay his head back down and talk again in his mother tongue, probably scolding them for kicking you.

You had no doubts about him as a father, he truly loved his children. Before you had gotten pregnant he had rarely ever said the L- word, but now, every night, he would press a kiss to your lips, and then lean down to kiss your stomach twice, once at the top, and the last kiss at the bottom. He would whisper that he loved them both and then tell them not to move too much so you could sleep. Then he would move back up and place one more kiss to your cheek before whispering that he loved you.

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The snow coated the ground, building up against the windowsills. It was a blizzard, and it was beautiful. Fyodor had helped you move into the living room, lighting the fireplace and handing you a cup of hot chocolate as you both watched the snow fall. His legs were stretched along the couch as he leaned against the arm, you were laying against his chest between his legs. His finger traced hearts over your stomach and you both sipped on you drinks enjoying the view. "It's beautiful, I wish the children were here to see it." Fyodor murmured before taking another sip.

Just then you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, you shot up straight and he quickly grabbed your cup out of your hand and placed it on the coffee table. His brow furrowed and his forehead creased with worry lines. "They... they might be... fuck..." You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped onto the couch cushion as you tried to breathe your way through the pain. You felt the wetness build between your legs and you turned to look back at Fyodor. He nodded and helped guide you up off the couch.

He grabbed your coat and helped you put it on and button it up, then he draped a large wool blanket over your shoulders as he led you to the door, grabbing his keys on the way over. "Fyo, there's a blizzard, you can't drive in this."

"My dearest darling, I'm Russian." Was his only explanation, and you rolled your eyes. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist as he helped you walk down the front stairs. The snow was deep and the wind was strong, it felt like it was lashing against your face. You shivered as it hit you, and he held you closer, helping you walk through the snow to the car.

It must have just been a coincidence that he had just traded in his small sedan for a larger SUV with four wheel drive only the week before. Surely if he still had the smaller car you would have been delivering these babies at home. Your luggage was already packed and stored in the back of the truck, the carseats were hooked up in the second row as well. He was more prepared for this than you were.

He slipped off his cloak and placed it over your lap and as soon as he started up the car he blasted the heat. The contractions came steadily and you felt the pressure building, you were panting heavily as you held onto the handle above the door. He drove slowly through the snow, trying to get there as quick and as safely as he could. "You're doing great, dear. Keep breathing." He said softly, his hand on your thigh squeezing it gently to try to calm you down.

"How much longer... Fuck! Please go faster." You pleaded with him as the next round of contractions came on. You clenched your teeth and you whimpered as the tears threatened to fall. You had never been in so much pain, it felt like every single bone in your body was being broken, it was torture.

You were checked into the hospital and wheeled to your room. Fyodor watched as the doctors worked over you, checking how dilated you were, hooking you up to heart monitors and other machines that you didn't quite understand. You got hooked up to an IV that would help ease the pain of the contractions, but nothing seemed to help as much as you hoped it would.

Fyodor stood by your bed and held your hand as you labored through every contraction. You had been clenching your teeth so hard that they actually hurt, your head was throbbing and you felt nauseous. The doctors had come in and told you and Fyodor that you would need to have a C-Section which was something that you didn't really want, but opted to do just so you knew both of the babies would come out safely. You had done enough research to figure out that even if one was delivered naturally, the other would most likely come out through a C-Section anyway.  

He was quickly suited up, and if you weren't in so much pain you would have giggled at how he looked in the blue scrubs, they definitely did not accent his beautiful dark purple eyes. The doctors began wheeling you down the hall and he walked quickly next to you, refusing to let go of your hand for one second.

You had been given sedatives through the IV and you were numb, it felt strange because you could still feel a dull pull whenever you had a contraction. There was a blue curtain blocking the view of your stomach, so you found comfort in looking up at Fyodor, staring into his eyes as he looked down at you. You could tell that he was smiling, even behind the mask, as the corner of his eyes would crease slightly.

He would occasionally glance around the curtain and hum as his interest was peaked, watching as the doctors carefully sliced through the skin and muscles of your abdomen. You could still feel it slightly, the sensation of the tugging and pulling, but it never actually hurt. His hands were on your shoulders, and although you couldn't actually feel the circles he was rubbing into your skin with his thumbs, there was comfort in knowing that he was touching you, that he was there with you.

The birth itself took not much longer than thirty minutes, and by that time you felt like you were going to pass out, so you weren't sure how much longer it took for the doctors to stitch you back up, and none of that really mattered anyway. When you forced your eyes open, the only thing you were looking for was your babies.

Elizaveta Fyodova Dostoevsky, born January 15 at 5:28PM, 5lbs 8ounces.

Iosif Fyodovich Dostoevsky, born January 15 at 5:30PM, 5lbs 2ounces.

They both had jet black hair which contrasted against their skin perfectly. They were tiny, but they were healthy, and they were beautiful. It was love at first sight as soon as you laid your eyes on them. Seeing Fyodor hold both of your children in his arms though, that hit different. You never thought you could love the man more than you did in that moment, but there was something about seeing him in that arm chair, smiling down at both of his children, the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He absolutely adored his children, that much was obvious.

When you were finally discharged from the hospital, he took extra care of you, making sure that you didn't push yourself too hard. He was worried about your incision, and he knew that you would have trouble walking for the next couple weeks. He made sure that you took your medication at the right time every single day, he continued to help you shower even though you told him that you didn't need help anymore, he insisted.

He took stayed home with you, refusing to go on missions until you were fully healed, and if any of the "rats" complained about his lack of focus on the mission he would write their names down to "handle them" later.

Fyodor was strict about scheduling their feeding times and nap times so they wouldn't affect when they went to bed. He was honestly such a devoted father to Iosif and Elizaveta, it was almost shocking to you. You hadn't known before the children came that he could sing, but you learned one night that he had the most beautiful singing voice you had ever heard. He would stand over their bassinets and gently brush his thumb across their heads as he lulled them back to sleep, singing in a hushed tone a gentle Russian lullaby.

He ended up teaching you Russian, you had asked him after you heard him crooning to them while he fed them their bottles. The children seemed to find the language relaxing, and they would often fall asleep listening to their father talk. He wanted his children to know their heritage, to know where there father came from.

Fyodor wasn't one to spoil his children either. When he finally went back to "work" about two months after their birth, he would stay away for only three days, maybe five tops. Whenever he would return, he would bring back something small, something that reminded him of you, Iosif, and Elizaveta. The items didn't cost much, sometimes they cost nothing at all. One time he returned with a small rock, a leaf, and a bird feather. The rock was shiny and a dark grey color with purple streaks going through it, it had reminded him of the beauty of Elizaveta's eyes. The leaf was small, but it was a bright green, it reminded him of Iosif, who was the smallest at birth, but was intelligent and bright already at only two months old, already attempting to hold his own bottles. The feather was pure white, and it reminded him of you. You were still, and always will be the purest thing in his life, the most amazing and beautiful woman he had ever met. You made him feel like the luckiest man on earth, he was so happy, so over joyed with you and the small family that he had, it felt like he was flying.

If someone had asked you in the beginning of your relationship if you thought Fyodor Dostoevsky would ever want to have children, you would have scoffed and said no. Fyodor was a man who, at the time, didn't seem like he would ever be capable of being a father. That hadn't bothered you, because you loved him enough to want to be with him no matter what. Now, here the two of you laid, both of your children between you on the bed, and you couldn't imagine him not being a father to your children. He was the most amazing father you could have ever wanted your children to have.

He pressed quick kisses to the tops of the children's heads before smiling up at you, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "YA lyublyu tebya, moya dorogaya."

a/n : Thank you for reading! I got really really really into it, and I love my baby Fyodor so fricking much. He deserves so much love. Also daddy!Fyodor is a whole ass mood, love me a big Rat Daddy. Okay but seriously, I love him so much. He's just *chefs kith* Also, what he says at the end is "I love you, my dear" because Russian is hot and him speaking Russian would just *kaboom*

[gerrydelano]

Secret Martin ship.... Melanie's friend Andy? Is that anything?

you know what, i’m actually going to cave and throw you guys a bone: andy IS something! but only short-term interest number one, because martin is a chad and my timeline goes a while before the endgame kicks in. sometimes casual nice things happen before the epic tragic romance! and we love that for him. we love this a little less for melanie because she’s going to have to deal with it since she lives with them now 😂

i’m going to concisely list the other guesses under the cut.

here’s all the old asks, but i’m re-typing them easier to read.

[REDACTED] (15) - PEOPLE DID GUESS HIM! but i am not telling<3

mike crew (5) - a very popular guess but nope! he does not give enough of a shit to date anybody lettuce bee reel.

oliver (3) - counting a guess on ao3! nope. not rowdy enough.

...martin (2) - self love... i’m amused enough by this one to keep it especially since this whole thing happened before he talked to Martin 2.0 in season 5 LMFAO. G-D... you may not be PBR prophets but you ARE prophets nonetheless.

jared hopworth (2)

graham folger (2)

timothy hodge (3) - got another guess for him after he showed up in the text itself which makes SENSE now that he’s got more of a personality but nope, that’s actually what disqualifies him! secret man shows up in the next chapter.

jordan kennedy (2)

jan kilbride (2)

anatomy students/john doe (2)

brian the spider guy (2)

andre rameo (2) - homophobic vase guy! poor dude. no new husband for you, or at least not this one

georgie’s shopska salad guy (1) - props for this one ngl

benoit the beetle guy (1)

an OC of mine (1)

gerry (1) - the ACTUAL initial reason for there being a new ship is that i Cannot ship him with gerry here

tim (1) - the ship is literally gerry/tim, and thus, no,

jon (1) - it would not be a secret if it was jon! it’d also be ooc and not good for them in the same way as it is in canon, here. jon’s got plenty else going on, too! i will tell you that they hit it off as friends a lot faster here since jon has No actual reason to split the way he did in canon. fun!

sasha (1) - he is a whole entire homogay

salesa (1) - too old don’t guess old people please :’-(

joshua guillespe (1)

evan lukas (1)

dominic swain (1)

breekon OR hope (1) - no! he is not a homewrecker! the accusation...

one of the fucking mechanisms (1) - why would i ever,

sergey ushanka (1) - by far the wildest one

michael shelley/distortion (1) - absolutely the unholy fuck not<3

alfred grifter (1) - my g-d jhbkn

carlos vittery (1)

diego molina (1) - :-(

raymond fielding (1) - :-(

*andy cain (1) - DING DING! you got 1/2 of martin’s intended boytoys. their relationship is pretty much limited to casual sex and acquaintanceship before it ends.

mateo james (2) - our OC for sasha’s brother. adorable but nope!

sebastian skinner (1)

ethan taylor (1) - guy from lost in the crowd apparently

pharos (1) - nope! that breaks the “no gerry x martin” rule and also they do not see eye to eye enough to even be friends, honestly

daniel rawlings (1)

john fellows (1) - literally said “whom.” OH other anglerfish victim okay coolcool yeah no i forgot he existed

if you really want to keep guessing, i might not publish/will just update the asks & this one! i certainly won’t publish if you guess correctly. even if you guess, you won’t be able to predict my actual PLANS for them, so it’s fine, but i still want it to surprise as many people as possible! i’m still interested in seeing if anyone gets it right after the fact, but i'm going to once again remind you of the hints i already gave:

not a one off statement giver

not a woman

not an OLD GUY

a little bit monster-y

edit! people have asked for more conditions and so it’s also:

someone who IS in a statement somewhere

someone mentioned in my stuff before

[fnf-writingz]

Hey I forgot to tell you that I simp for Ruv and Whitty so I headcanon them to be absolute besties, so here's the shit that goes down between these two idiots because their relationship is just like

Idiot with no energy and Idiot with energy

Captain John has tried to recruit Whitty as one of the tankmen

Since Ruv pulls shitty pranks against Whitty, he gets his revenge too.

So like

Whitty steals Ruv's ushanka (his hat) and hides it. Mans literally broke the whole church yelling Whitty's name knowing full well he did it

Sarvente had enough of their shit and decided to put handcuffs with their hands linked together.

One day Whitty was chilling in the church since he was bored ASF and Ruv decided to choose violence so he went to Whitty and just said "AAAAAHHHHHHHHH-" causing everyone's ears to bleed

DOFIJSDF- dw we got a shit ton of ruv and whitty simps- but them being besties is a nice thought-

that is absolutely their dynamic i wholeheartedly agree-

yea, i can see that- whitty just declined bc yknow. he already lives with the threat of being killed all the time-

AGOIDJFSD- yes- whitty just tries to look all innocent like "haha what are you talking about?-" and he just hid Ruv's ushanka in the most obvious place ever like a dumbass (affectionate)

YES- sarv already had to deal with one dumbass, now there's two- she just leaves them in handcuffs together and just leaves-

OSDIFJDS YES- whitty just fell to the ground and was shaking, sarv just pops out of nowhere and drags him away and everyone else is just. dead ODFIJSDf-

[allie1804-fan]

Please Assist Me (Chapter 19)

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

She Said

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever!”

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

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

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

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

 “You have to be here to do that sweetie”

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

 He Said

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

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

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

 She Said

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?!”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

I could feel the colour rising in my cheeks.

“you got a test at home?”

I shook my head.

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

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

 He Said

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

“Happy?” Chad asked.

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

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

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

“And you want more?”

“What?!” I spluttered.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks man”

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

She Said

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

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

“Do you want a drink?” I asked.

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

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

“Are you ready for your gifts?”

“mmmm yes please”

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

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

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

 “Yeah sure”  

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

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

“Just one glass?” he queried.

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

“You didn’t have to get my anything!”

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

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

“Come ‘ere”

He Said

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

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

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