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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

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Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 18

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: It’s a bit of a shorter chapter, but very important for the story 🤗Also, I’m writing a little something something for Chris Evans and if you are interested and want to, please check it out 🤗💕

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Being 25 weeks pregnant is no piece of cake and I forgot how much I dislike it, especially in this heat. I’m nothing but a sulking mess in front of the air conditioning. When I was pregnant with Vanessa, poor Belle didn’t know what hit her and every time I was in a grumpy mood (which was daily), she had to deal with that. Now Henry and Vanessa are in this together, but they somehow continue to be the sweetest. I have mad ass respect for them, because I know that I’m in no better mood than I was during my first pregnancy if not worse. This baby likes to play football with my bladder.

Today we are having an ultrasound that will determine the gender of the baby. We were supposed to find out three weeks ago, but since the power was out at the maternity clinic, we couldn’t use the ultrasound machine, only an old piece of crap, that did determine that the baby’s heart was okay.

Vanessa walks out of the kitchen with a big smile on her face. ‘Mommy, we have pancakes.’

‘That’s great, sweetheart,�� I say from the couch.

School starts in two weeks and though I love that girl with all my heart, I’m happy that she is going back to school again, so we can have a certain routine in place again. My maternity leave starts in a month and I can’t wait for that to start.

I try to get up from the couch, but I can only let out a huff. I mean, I could get up by myself, but it’ll cost me too much energy. ‘Sweetheart, could you get your dad for me, please?’

Vanessa chuckles, because she always likes it when her dad helps me out. He is setting an excellent example for her and I hope that it will be moments like these she’ll remember once she will date herself. ‘I will, wait here, mommy.’

She skips to the kitchen, while Kal places his head on my knee. ‘I know, baby,’ I say to him. ‘We have fifteen more weeks to go, until you have another baby sister.’

‘Does my lovely queen need a little help getting up?’ Henry asks, who walks into the living room with a big smile on his face. Ever since we found out I was pregnant, there was an instant switch in his behavior. He has always been sweet and thoughtful, but nowadays he shows what he has been doing the past months that I have known him, it was only twenty five percent of his love.

I can’t carry groceries anymore, I can’t clean up the house anymore, because of the chemicals and the hard work (something that you won’t hear me complain about and I really hope this continues after I give birth and years beyond) and he literally does anything I ask him to.

Around a week ago I was thinking out loud with Vanessa what kind of snack I wanted and he rushed to the kitchen to get it for me. When we are in bed, he cuddles up with me from behind and places his hand on my bump. Our bed is the only place where he doesn’t ask me permission for touching it, which on its own is adorable. Whenever we are out of the bedroom, meaning downstairs, at his parents, in the mall, you name it, he’ll hover his hand over my stomach, before he looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

Every single time.

He is so sweet and so loving and I can’t believe that I went from an asshole like Wesley to a lovely man like Henry.

I hold out my hands for Henry and he pulls me up, before pressing a kiss on my forehead. ‘My little grumpy lady,’ he chuckles.

I scoff. ‘I’m not grumpy,’ I retort.

‘You are, mommy.’ Vanessa grabs my hand and says: ‘But that’s okay. You are growing a baby in your belly.’

Vanessa has been nothing but understanding and I love her with my entire heart for it. However, though it’s true, I refuse to believe that I’m grumpy, because I feel like I was on my best behavior today. ‘When exactly was I grumpy?’

‘This morning,’ she answers. ‘You yelled at daddy for giving you tap water instead of the one from the bottle. You stomped your feet when you found out he ate the last cookie. You cried when you saw that he gave you the wrong socks.’

‘Oh,’ I mumble, already forgotten that I actually done all of that this morning. Oh poor Henry. ‘I have been mean to daddy quite a bit, haven’t I?’

She nods.

‘Have I been mean to you?’

Thankfully she shakes her head, though I feel like she only says that to spare my feelings.

‘Good,’ I chuckle. ‘Do you think I should apologize to dad?’

‘You should, but remember, he will always love you.’

That shouldn’t make you cry, Olivia, so please don’t do that! I look up to my handsome and loving boyfriend Henry and say: ‘I’m sorry.’

He starts to laugh, before he shakes his head. ‘That’s okay, my love. You can’t help it.’

We walk to the dining room and once we’re seated, we start to eat the pancakes and they are really good. ‘Are you guys ready for today?’ I ask them.

Vanessa starts to nod. ‘I am. I really want a sister.’

‘You do?’ Henry asks. ‘And when we find out it’s a boy, what are you going to do then?’

Though Henry pretends he doesn’t understand parenting and is in awe with how I raise Vanessa, he caught on so quickly, asking her those deep questions. He tells me that we should raise all our future kids just like this, causing me to reassure him that we are definitely doing that to an extent, because I have a feeling that I found the perfect parenting style for me. Again to an extent again.

‘I’ll love him no matter what,’ Vanessa answers. ‘It’s just that I get girls better.’ That’s so deep. ‘Boys in my class are dirty.’

I snort. ‘Boys are dirty, I totally agree.’

‘Excuse me?’ Henry says, with a raised eyebrow. ‘I’m a boy and am I dirty?’

‘I was going to add that all boys are dirty, except for the Cavill guys, had you let me finish.’

He smiles, holding my hand on the table. ‘That’s better.’

Vanessa scrunches up her nose. ‘I think uncle Piers is pretty dirty. His farts smell really bad.’

Now Henry can’t stop the laugh. ‘You are totally right, my sunshine.’ He looks from Vanessa, to me, back to Vanessa, back to me, all with a loving smile on his face.

‘Mommy, daddy’s been acting weird.’

I nod. ‘I know, he is probably thinking to himself how he got so lucky that he got not only me, but also you and also this baby.’

‘How did you know?’ Henry asks, honestly in shock.

‘I know everything. That comes with being a mom.’

Vanessa agrees. ‘My mommy knows everything.’

‘That’s not true,’ Henry retorts. ‘No one on earth knows everything.’

Vanessa takes a bite of her pancake, thinks about her answer and eventually says: ‘Well, my mommy knows a lot. More than you.’

‘Yeah, sweetheart, you tell him the facts now.’

Henry sighs deeply, before laughing. ‘Always teaming up against me. Let’s hope the new baby agrees with me more often.’

≫≫≪≪

Because I’m in desperate need for some love from Vanessa, I’m sitting in the back of the car and hold her hand. ‘Together with the terrible mood swings going to the grumpy part of my feelings, I also have been overly emotional. I cry while watching Winnie the Pooh, the drawings Vanessa makes, make me end up bawling like a baby and sometimes when Henry and I are in bed, I just start to sniffle, simply because he gives me a kiss.

I can’t wait for the pregnancy to be over and to hold our new little baby, hoping that the hormones will normalize a bit.

I look at Henry through the rearview mirror and I can’t hide my smile anymore. I’m so happy right now, it’s disgusting really. When I’m at his mom’s place, we talk about life and she says that though she loves her husband dearly and he was an angel throughout her pregnancies, it’s nothing compared to how Henry is with me.

When we arrived at the maternity clinic, Vanessa sits on Henry’s lap, as she looks around the waiting room. ‘Mommy, how are you feeling?’

‘I’m feeling good, sweetheart.’

‘Are you nervous?’ She resits on his laps and places her hands on my stomach. I hate it when people outside my family touch my stomach, it makes me want to punch then in de face, but when she does it, I feel so loved, I feel so beautiful. Vanessa makes sure that I’m happy and that I feel good about myself. She is an honest angel.

‘I’m not. I’m excited.’

‘Me too.’

We are the next to be called in and Vanessa is sitting on Henry’s knee, as I lay on the examination chair. I pull up my shirt and the doctor squirts some cold gel on my skin. ‘Are we ready to find out whether you get a baby sister or brother?’ I love how the doctor involves Vanessa in this exciting day.

We hear the baby’s heartbeat filling the room and I already get emotional, something that was inevitable, because hearting their heartbeat always makes me cry. I hold onto Henry’s hand and he clears his throat, before he kisses my fingers. ‘Okay, this is the baby’s head,’ the doctor explains, as she points to the screen. She continues to look at the baby and say: ‘This baby looks really strong, so that’s good.’

‘Is it a boy or girl?’ Vanessa asks with a smile.

‘Let’s take a good look at that, shall we?’ With a frown between her brows, she tries to get the best view and eventually she smiles. ‘Well congratulations, Cavill family,’ she says, ‘you are going to add a little girl to the mix.’

I just hope that they do work now, because Tumblr has been being a little bitch about this for quite some time! Please let me know if you have received a notification!

Taglist: @thelastsock // @flhorah // @sausagefest1996 // @laufeysodinson // @xxxkatxo // @memoriesat30 // @henrythickcavill // @crimsonrae // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed // @summersong69 // @lyrafraiser // @peakygroupie // @coldmuffinbanditshoe // @mary-ann84 // @thereisa8ella //@crazyandanonymous4u // @xuxszx // @emmaofgreengabbles // @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair // @onlyhenrys // @omgkatinka // @oddsnendsfanfics // @speakerforthedead0 // @agniavateira // @gearhead66 // @chamomilebottom // @diegos-butt

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

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direbeastrex · 1 year ago

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for my part I divested myself of the fandom years ago, (i am trans masc), so it was a good excuse to clear out some space to make way for new interests and hobbies and clothes and books and games and mugs- but the fact it was that large of a collection of stuff i didnt even think about having tells you how ubiquitous it was- and still is.

mum still watches the films every christmas because they're on cable and there to be seen, she has the same nostalgia as I do with this world- but I can't say I don't feel a twinge of discomfort when i walk into the room and they're on tv. And even she feels the same twinge of conflicted feelings that I do, because she hates how much hurt JRK has caused me and people like me. She loves me- her only son- and supports me in every way practically that I ask. But its hard to escape the influence because it was my entire childhood, near enough. this summer, mum and I went in our old renfaire garb to a fantasy festival. I didnt notice it at the time- there was so much going on and honestly I was mostly concerned about keeping an eye on my budget and trying to pace myself since we're both disabled- but when I checked the facebook of the event after I got home, I started to notice how the regulars of the group- you know the kind, facebook mums and aunts with shitty wine and winnie the pooh and minions memes-

a handful of them were all dressed as... witches.

in long, black or dark wizard's robes. some with flashes of muted primary colours, or familiar embroidery and heraldry, some with wands, but... middle class looking ass witches. You know you're looking at something from the harry potter franchise when you see it and these were a bunch of women cosplaying as Wish.com McGonnagal. And their facebook profiles, the ones I could access, were filled with posts about 'protecting women and girls' or hateful, bigoted memes.

I piped up to admonish some toxic positivity in the facebook group, in the face of a huge breach of conduct by the organizers regarding some weather-based cancellations and refunds (its a long story) that was on going at the time, and my posts were immediately swamped by people twice my age telling me I was a 'moaner' and a liberal and a snowflake and all the usual guff, but- some of which were being straight up transphobic in front of me. All while their profile images were still them dressed as these happy-go-lucky middle age white women *harry potter witches*.

It was absolutely appauling, but not surprising for facebook- but I'll admit that I found it to be a little harrowing, because these were people i had been within arms length of not a day before. Whose husbands or male friends were also there, also piling in, who had been there with weapons- blunt, sure, but there's nothing fun about getting hit with a blunt metal axe, or a claymore- none of which were being peacebound at the front gate, which I honestly already found a little alarming for other reasons when I *also* wasn't asked to bind or tape up my own (blunt, prop) arming sword in its scabbard, as I'd expected to be asked to do...

Mum ofc wants to go again, because she didn't notice any of that, she's not on facebook, she doesn't know and I didn't tell her much beyond the basics, because I've never seen her so happy in so long, to relieve our ren faire days in new york and new jersey in the 90s. It's also a driveable distance, has accomodation for disabled guests- like a straight up BOGOF offer, which is better than any other event for miles and miles.

but there's a decent part of me that is a little afraid to go back. Especially in the future, whenever I get on T and start looking less like a butch lesbian and more clockably not-cis, Or if they notice a pronoun pin, or an errant pride flag- what will happen? Will I get the same treatment in meatspace as I saw on these people's facebook pages? Will *others* attending also get the same treatment? I genuinely can't recommend it in good faith to any of my trans sisters, because outside of me personally sticking close to them with a literal (prop, blunt) sword at my hip, I can't guarantee these boomer potter nerds wouldn't have a go at them in broad daylight.

Even outside of that one specific scenario- I just hate that now I'm constantly looking over my shoulder with suspicion whenever I am out of the house, when I see middle aged women with hogwarts merch. What used to be a symbol of understanding, of safety, of 'you can be a nerd here' is now a huge red flag that I have to make a snap decision about whether or not I am at that moment actually physically safe.

What makes JKR's shitshow even harder to process is that she didn't just ruin a book series. Harry Potter was an entire subculture. Like Star Wars and Star Trek fans, Harry Potter fans dedicated their lives and careers to the series. I don't know if I'd call it "underground," but liking Harry Potter got you beaten up when I was in school, so it was more of a dedicated indie culture than a mass-appeal fanbase.

Harry Potter was so huge that fan works developed their own followings. Potter Puppet Pals racked up hundreds of thousands of followers and was nearly as relevant as the series itself. For fanfiction, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality got so big that it has a Wikipedia page. The band Harry and the Potters spawned the wizard rock music genre. A Very Potter Musical developed a fanbase and launched Darren Criss's career.

Harry Potter also has extensive ties to fandom history. Everyone in my generation (millennials) remembers coming home from school to read Harry Potter fanfiction on the Internet. Today, most people just post their stories on Wattpad or Archive of Our Own. But at the time, the fanbase was splintered between fanfiction.net and dozens of individual websites and forums, some made for specific ships. Since they all had individual hosts, a lot of those sites have been lost to time.

And there's the infamous My Immortal fanfiction, which is an Internet legend with people still searching for the author. Everybody read that one (and laughed at it) in middle school.

Pre-social media, fan sites like The Leaky Cauldron and Mugglenet had massive followings because they were one of few sources for news, theories, essays and fan content. Some of these sites still exist after being around for over a decade and building their own legacy.

Before Deathly Hallows came out, fans were so desperate to know what happened that Mugglenet published a book called What Will Happen in Harry Potter 7: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Falls in Love and How Will the Adventure Finally End? Yep...Harry Potter was so big that people wrote separate books about what would happen in an upcoming book.

And that's not mentioning all the book release parties, Harry Potter-themed events, monuments, fan films, restaurants and even a theme park. A lot of fandoms have those, but Harry Potter infiltrated every aspect of popular culture.

Today, there's a thriving culture of "Harry Potter adults" with themed weddings, baby showers and Etsy stores. Putting your Hogwarts house in your Instagram bio is pretty much a prerequisite for joining the "bookish" community. Warner still produces new content, like the Fantastic Beasts series, although we've all seen what a disaster that's been.

Everyone has at least a few memories associated with Harry Potter even if it's just watching the movies. I had great memories associated with Harry Potter. But looking back at the subculture, history and thousands of fan works, it doesn't seem fun anymore. Studying the fandom or being part of it comes with an awkward tension because you don't want to seem like you're condoning JKR's bigotry but can't divorce her from the series. This subculture was spawned by a woman who turned her legacy of magic and wonder into one of abuse and hatred.

I don't expect people to write paragraphs about how much they hate JKR every time they post about Harry Potter, but it's still uncomfortable to see people make new content or wear their Harry Potter Etsy tote bags like nothing happened. Even if they clarify that they don't support her, it's just a weird, tense situation for everybody.

People dedicated years of their lives to running Harry Potter fan sites, writing fanfiction, cosplaying characters and making fan movies. If I were in that situation, I'd have a mild identity crisis. I'd ask myself "Did I waste all those years? Should I delete my content? Where do I go from here?"

So ultimately, JKR didn't ruin "just" a book series or even "just" a fandom. She tanked an entire culture, which inspired people to look at Harry Potter more critically. The issues that people brought to the light tainted the series's legacy even without JKR's personal issues.

Once, Harry Potter was a series for generations. Now, former fans hope that the series fades into irrelevancy. Unfortunately, JKR didn't just tarnish her legacy--she took decades of history, millions of fans and a worldwide subculture along with her.

#cw: transphobia

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dvp95 · 5 years ago

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quiet on widow’s peak (13)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 4.3k (this chapter), 42.9k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil is herded out of the house before he can shower, style his hair, or put in his contacts. As soon as his clothes are finished drying, his parents are pushing him and all of his bags out the door.

“We’ve got someone coming to see the house,” his mum had explained in that half-frantic voice he associates with company arriving. “You’ve got somewhere to be, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t have the gumption to explain that he’s still got hours before he has to be anywhere. Instead, Phil just hoists his bags higher on his shoulders and sets off for the bus stop. The wind isn’t bad today, thank goodness for small mercies, but it still isn’t pleasant to be outside in November. He pushes his floppy, unwashed hair off his forehead and reluctantly sends Dan a message.

It’s still pretty early and Dan might be in class by now, so he doesn’t expect an immediate response. He’s halfway through a Buzzfeed article and leaning against the shaky bus window by the time his phone buzzes.

im omw from class now just meet me at my place

An address follows, close enough to the coffee shop and the Wilkins place for Phil to feel comfortable finding it. He’s not sure how comfortable he is with being in such a small, private place with Dan before spending most of the night with them. He wonders if his brewing feelings and abject confusion surrounding them will be obvious.

Phil bites his lip and taps away from the article. He’s not sure where to start, but he thinks it’s about time that he started looking into gender stuff. He’s lived with PJ for almost two years and been friends with him for longer, but this isn’t something they tend to talk about. Technically, he hadn’t even been told, he’d just picked up on it from conversations around the old Brighton house. PJ isn’t in the closet, but he seems to have the same attitude about his gender identity that Phil has about his sexual identity - it isn’t anyone’s business unless they’re actively pursuing him.

This isn’t about PJ, though. Phil can’t pretend like these bewildered Google searches are in any way an attempt to understand his friend better. This is about Dan.

“Dan?”

The girl looks confused enough that Phil thinks he’s gotten the wrong flat for a horrified moment, but then her brow uncreases and she laughs.

“Oh, duh. Sorry, she doesn’t have many people coming to visit.” She waves Phil inside and eyes his bags. “Especially not many that look like they’re moving in. You planning on staying long, mate?”

“Just the night,” Phil says, more or less honestly. His brain is still stuck on the new pronoun. He knows that Dan is fine with any pronouns, and that includes feminine ones, it just feels strange to have someone use the opposite of what most people might assume. “Er, my parents are selling their place and needed my junk out of the way.”

She nods and gestures deeper into the flat. It doesn’t have as many doors as the Brighton house that Phil shares with a rugby team’s worth of people, but it’s still enough to overwhelm him a bit. Seemingly in response to whatever panicked expression finds its way to Phil’s face, the girl laughs. “Winnie’s room is at the end of the hall,” she says. “Her name’s on the door, you can’t miss it.”

“Her name being Winnie,” Phil says slowly.

“That’s what she wants us to call her,” the girl says. There’s an edge to her voice now, a sort of protectiveness that Phil doesn’t know how to respond to.

Phil gives her an uncertain sort of smile and heads down the hallway. The common areas are surprisingly tidy for a student flat, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable there. He finds himself in front of a dark wooden door with a Winnie the Pooh poster stuck to it. It’s not exactly a nameplate, but Phil understands why their flatmate said that.

He knocks lightly, not wanting to disturb the other people who live here and might still be asleep. It’s barely past noon, after all, and Phil remembers what it was like to be a student. Hell, he doesn’t really have a proper sleep schedule now.

“Come in!”

Dan’s room is darker than the rest of the flat, and Phil has to let his eyes adjust for a moment as the door closes behind him. There are blackout curtains over the single window and fairy lights draped over every possible surface, giving the whole place a soft vibe. Phil doesn’t see Dan at first, but then he realises that they’re on the floor with -

“Is that a weasel?” Phil asks without bothering to say hello, dropping his bags carefully. The last thing he wants to do is scare the creature that’s scampering all over Dan’s shoulders and arms.

“Excuse me,” Dan laughs. They hold out the animal for inspection, and Phil joins them on the floor. “This is Tofu, he’s a ferret.”

“Hello, Tofu,” says Phil. He reaches out to gently take the ferret’s paw between his thumb and finger, and he pretends like they’re shaking hands. Dan laughs again, bright and happy, and Phil decides that he really likes seeing Dan in their comfort zone. “It’s very nice to meet you! I’m Phil.”

Tofu makes a squeaking sort of noise and wiggles out of Dan’s hands to roll around on the carpet.

“He’s kind of an idiot,” Dan says fondly. “Pixel is the smart one in this family, but she’s sleeping.”

Phil’s eyes follow Dan’s vague gesture to a surprisingly large, multi-level enclosure. There’s another ferret curled up in there, and Phil assumes that’s Pixel. “Exactly how many weasels do you have?”

“Just the two,” says Dan. They’re smiling so wide that Phil can’t bring himself to look away. Their lips are a dark shade of red, or maybe burgundy, but it’s hard to tell in the low lighting. The dark lines around their eyes are even more shadowed with it, though, and it’s an entrancing sort of effect. “Originally it was just the one, but she got so lonely. I should have gotten an introverted animal, I guess, if I didn’t want multiple, but I didn’t mind. Pixel wanted a buddy, so. Pixel got a buddy.”

“I think even introverts need buddies sometimes,” says Phil.

He’s suddenly so self-conscious about being here in his current state. He’s wearing his trusty denim on denim, which he knows suits him fine, but he’s also got his clunky glasses and can’t remember if he put deodorant on or not. Dan, on the other hand, looks as stunning as always.

That gets even more obvious as they lounge out a bit, uncrossing and stretching their long legs. Their leggings are tight and translucent enough that Phil might find them indecent if there weren’t a short, swishy skirt covering the important bits. When Dan stretches their arms out, too, their unbuttoned flannel falls further open and shows off the cropped band tee underneath.

Most of Dan’s body is covered, really. Only their hands and neck and navel are out, but that’s enough to make Phil’s brain short-circuit. Their hands are distractingly big, but still so gentle when they pick Tofu back up; their neck is long and ends in either a sharp clavicle or a soft, rounded jawline; their tummy is soft like the rest of them and there’s a simple barbell piercing through their belly button that Phil has to force himself to look away from.

“Have you talked to your friends about us going back?” Dan asks, seemingly oblivious to the way Phil is taking them in from head to toe.

“What?” Phil bleats, and then his brain catches up to the conversation before Dan can repeat themself. “Oh, yeah. I texted them about it, and they’re a bit worried, but they’re glad you’re coming along. They were pretty nervous about me doing this alone.”

“PJ said you tend to do stupid shit,” Dan says bluntly. Tofu is climbing up their arms and biting at their hair, but they don’t even react.

“When did PJ say that?”

Dan’s lips curve into a smile. “When he drove me home. We talked about you.”

Normally, a statement like that would make Phil anxious. He still feels it, a bit, that creeping sense of frustration and nervousness that he associates with mild anxiety, but it’s more dull than it would be if Dan wasn’t smiling at him so softly. Something about it makes Phil certain that he’d get an honest answer if he asked what they all said about him.

That certainty and budding trust are enough to keep his loud anxiety at bay, and Phil finds that he doesn’t feel the need to ask.

Instead, he looks around Dan’s room some more. Pixel is still napping soundly, and Phil doesn’t blame her - the room is so quiet and dim and full of pleasing scents from the candles on Dan’s nightstand, Phil can easily imagine curling up somewhere soft in here and nodding off.

The furniture itself is crappy in the way that most students have to deal with, but Dan seems to have an eye for design that Phil has never had. Sure, there’s no bed frame to hold Dan’s mattress, but their duvet matches the monochrome colour scheme of the posters and paintings on the walls, and their pillows look welcoming surrounded by a small collection of stuffed animals. Their desk is organized, but their closet is open and spilling clothes onto the floor a bit. Phil wonders if that’s something Dan had planned on fixing before he got here, or if Dan doesn’t mind having their dresses and jeans and boots on display.

There’s barely any colour at all, really, but it doesn’t feel depressing like Phil would have thought it might.

That’s not exactly true. There’s some colour.

Phil must be looking at the flag on the wall for too long, because Dan makes a humming sort of noise and breaks the comfortable quiet. “I know it’s a bit tacky,” they say, “and it doesn’t match, but… I dunno. I wasn’t able to be out until I got to uni, and I might have gone a bit nuts with it.”

“Yeah,” says Phil. His throat is a bit dry. “I can understand that.”

“It makes me feel safe,” says Dan. Phil turns to look at them again, but he regrets it as soon as he sees the genuine emotion in Dan’s wide eyes. He isn’t good with that. “Like. Knowing I can have it hung here, that I can be open with people without them being upset with me or something. I don’t think the flag itself makes me feel safe? But maybe that’s not true, either. Maybe embracing that part of myself helped me embrace the community as a whole. I haven’t done Pride yet or anything. Maybe next year. But - safety. Comfort. Y’know?”

“I do,” Phil says quietly. “I do know.”

Dan’s eyes go sharp. Phil hasn’t seen them do that before, and it’s unnerving how much it feels like his very soul is under scrutiny. He wants to squirm away from that feeling, doesn’t want any part of himself under a microscope, but he doesn’t want to run like he might normally.

There’s another moment of quiet, where Dan looks at Phil and Phil doesn’t look away, but of course Phil is the first to break.

“Which of those is your favourite?” he asks instead of saying the words he knows Dan is waiting for. He doesn’t want to run, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be more forthcoming. At Dan’s furrowed brow, Phil gestures to the bookshelf. Dan has a lot of books and movies and boxsets and textbooks, more than Phil can take in all at once. “The, uh, the anime. My favourite’s Fullmetal Alchemist. Er, Brotherhood, not the first one, but both are good.”

For a second, it doesn’t seem like Dan is going to allow him to change the subject so easily. But then Tofu bites at their ear and they’re both giggling, the intensity of the moment slinking off to make way for casual conversation.

Talking to Dan is easier than talking to some people that Phil has known for years. They put on a show that they’ve both seen and enjoy and they chat the whole time. Phil points out camera and editing choices that Dan hadn’t put much thought to before, and Dan rambles about theories they’d seen on Reddit for so long that Pixel has become Phil’s best friend by the end of it. Dan makes food at some point, their brief absence allowing Phil to look more carefully at the titles on their shelves. They have even more to talk about when Dan gets back, because Phil has a lot of opinions on some of the quote-unquote ‘classics’ that Dan reads and Dan has some opinions on Phil picking the cheese off his sandwich. Phil almost forgets that he’s here for a specific reason, that they aren’t just friends hanging out, until Dan brings out their Polaroid and starts asking questions about what to expect on the haunt.

Phil kind of wishes they could just stay here.

Before they left, PJ, Sophie, and Chris had all drawn several Sharpie sigils on a thin piece of scrap fabric and insisted that Phil tie it around his wrist or something. He takes it out of his pocket as he and Dan approach the house.

“Here,” he says, pulling them to a stop and rolling their sleeve up a bit. He ignores their big doe eyes and wraps it around their knobby wrist a couple of times. “Is that too tight?”

“No,” says Dan. They stay still while Phil ties it, and then they raise their hand to inspect it.

“It’s from the gang,” says Phil. “I know it seems like the sigils didn’t help last time, but - well, I dunno. Maybe they did help and it was going to be a lot worse without them. Or maybe they just rubbed off our skin too quickly. But, y’know, I know you don’t believe in this stuff, it just… it makes us feel better. I thought it would be a good placebo for you if nothing else.”

Dan touches the fabric and then smiles, looking for all the world like Phil has given them something precious.

“Thank you,” they say, their voice altogether too sincere for Phil to respond to without some major awkwardness. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m already wearing my thing,” Phil lies. “C’mon, let’s get inside.”

The thing is, Phil figures Dan is the one who needs protecting from whatever is going on in the Wilkins place. They’re the one who got attacked last time, while Phil only dealt with flickering lights and the feeling of being watched. The last thing he needs is for Dan to insist on coming along again only to get themself hurt again.

He’s not sure if Dan believes him or not, but it doesn’t matter. Phil is already shouldering the back door open. He could climb through the window again with a boost from Dan, but he doesn’t think he has enough upper-body strength to pull Dan up after him.

The kitchen is as dark and dusty as ever, but that smothering, creeping feeling of eyes in the walls isn’t present. Phil stands still for a few seconds, waiting for it to wash over him again, but in the end he’s in the same place he figured he’d be from the beginning - listening to the creaking sounds of a house with absolutely nothing supernatural about it. He’s weirdly disappointed, but he imagines that Dan must be relieved.

He turns to Dan to see what they think, but their eyes are just as wide as they’d been the last time.

“Hey,” Phil says, quiet so as not to disturb the dust. “You feel something?”

“No,” Dan admits. They move closer to Phil, twisting their fingers into the cuff of his jacket and holding tight. It’s sort of sweet how they think he might leave them alone in this house, but it’s also somewhat of a nuisance to have a large person attached to him while he’s trying to move quietly.

“Then what’s wrong? Do you need to leave?”

Dan shakes their head. Their teeth dig into their dark bottom lip, and even though they reapplied their lip product before leaving the house, it still ends up on their teeth a little bit. Phil isn’t sure if he’s supposed to point it out or not. “I don’t need to leave or anything, it’s fine. I’m fine. Coming with you was the whole point. I just don’t… okay. Promise not to laugh at me?”

“I think I promise,” says Phil. He gives Dan a reassuring little smile. “But if you break into song and dance or something I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“Shut up,” Dan says, but they’re giggling. “No, I just… I just don’t like the dark, okay?”

It clearly takes something out of Dan to admit that. Phil shifts his hand so he can squeeze Dan’s. “Nobody really likes the dark,” Phil says. “I mean, it’s kind of my job, so I’m used to it, but I wouldn’t mind being somewhere brightly-lit and clean instead.”

“Thanks.” Dan’s cheeks look a bit darker, but that might just be the low lighting. “You can lead the way.”

Nothing happens.

There are spiders and dark corners and once or twice a loud noise from outside makes Dan jump and grab at his hand again, but Phil never feels like anything more is going to happen. The walls don’t have anything behind them except maybe rats, and even the attic simply makes Phil sneeze.

It’s frustrating. It’s almost worse than the night that he put his friends in danger, because at least then he knew that he could have a chance at a decent video. Now, there’s nothing to record.

Phil finds himself wishing for a flickering light or a quick shadow. He wants something, anything, to make him feel like he’s doing something productive with his life.

Instead, he just feels like he’s wading deeper into the confusion and shadows of his own future. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go if he can’t keep going back to the darkness of abandoned houses and old cemeteries. He went to uni, sure, but he hasn’t had a ‘real’ job in his life. Unless a month at the stationery store counts. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with figuring out what he ought to be doing with his life if he isn’t chasing ghosts, but he’s not having fun with this anymore.

He’s twenty-six. It’s not old, he’s not old. He’s got plenty of time to figure his life out.

But if he’s spent the last decade wasting all his free time on something that isn’t enjoyable anymore, then he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to forgive himself.

Dan is in his personal space again, pressing close to avoid the encroaching darkness, and they smell like… lavender. Phil remembers spice and mint from them, and he wonders if they’re wearing some kind of perfume today. It’s such a feminine scent that it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that he wants.

Further and further into the waters he goes. He doesn’t know what comes next for any of it, and it’s terrifying.

“We could stay all night again,” Phil is protesting, even as Dan frogmarches him down the back steps. “I know we didn’t find anything, but maybe it only works when you’re trying to sleep over? I could -”

“You’ll do nothing,” says Dan. “We are both going home, and I’m seeing you onto the bus so you don’t sneak back without me.”

Phil wants to object, but Dan tightens their grip on his arms like they know exactly what he’s going to say. Besides, it would probably be a lie. Phil is stressed and frustrated and in over his head, and if he could just get one clip or photo of this thing, then maybe everything will be okay. Maybe he can keep doing this after all.

He gently detangles himself from Dan and sighs, hoisting his backpack up. “Fucking… fine.”

“Fucking fine,” Dan repeats, their lips twitching.

“Maybe the sigils worked too well,” says Phil. He keeps his tone level so that Dan won’t be able to tell that he’s joking right away, but Dan shoves at his shoulder like they’re well aware of what he’s doing. “You know, I bet -”

“You’re annoying when you can’t do what you want, huh?” Dan interrupts. Their hands are shoved in their jacket pockets, but Phil wishes they weren’t. He wishes he could brush his hand against theirs as they walk and convince himself that it’s all an accident. “Bet that’s the baby brother in you.”

“No comment.”

The walk to the bus stop is quieter than the last time Dan walked him to it, but it's not uncomfortable. Phil can’t believe how much he cares about this person already. They’re friends, he’s pretty sure, and it’s impossible to deny how much this crush is starting to get to him. Still. It’s new, Dan is new, and Phil has to consider the possibility that the novelty is all he’s feeling.

It’s not. But he has to consider it, because Phil has to consider every possibility before he makes his mind up about anything.

“Hey,” Phil says, careful not to sound like he’s pushing.

“Hi,” says Dan. Phil isn’t looking at them, but he can hear a grin in their voice.

“I was just wondering,” says Phil. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s a sore spot or anything like that, but. Your flatmate said you were called Winnie. Obviously I know you go by Winnie online, but I didn’t know you did it, uh, outside of cyberspace.”

“Cyberspace,” Dan repeats like they can’t help themself. “Yeah, sometimes. I usually use it like a test.”

“A test?”

Dan hums. Phil wishes, again, that their hands weren’t trapped in the confines of their jacket. “For people I might get closer to. I ask my flatmates to call me something that’s clearly not masculine and see how they react and how often they slip up. Maybe it’s mean, I guess, since I don’t actually care one way or the other, but it’s a lot easier for me to open up to people who have already proven that they’re able to think of me outside of the Daniel box.”

“I can call you Winnie,” Phil offers. “If that’s what you want to be called. And I’m not a complete idiot, I’m sure I could remember to call you Dan when I’m bothering you at work.”

“Planning on bothering me at work some more?” Dan asks. They don’t wait for an answer. “No, I like Dan fine. They’re both fine. They just serve me different purposes, I guess, and I’m not bothered by either of them.”

“I don’t totally get it,” Phil admits. “But I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, Dan is tangling their long fingers with Phil's. It’s just for a second, long enough for the same sort of reassuring squeeze that Phil gave to them in the Wilkins place, but it makes Phil’s heart jump into his throat.

“You’re, like, overly considerate,” says Dan. They sound like they’re teasing - Phil hopes they’re teasing. He really, really doesn’t want to mess this up.

“I just think you should be able to, like, tell me if I do something wrong.”

Dan laughs. “You’re not getting it. That’s okay, you don’t have to get it. I will tell you if you do something wrong, I just have a really wide range of things I’m indifferent about before you get to the things that matter. Call me a boy or a girl or whatever, I don’t care. Try to imply that my favourite Pokémon is fucking Goldeen, on the other hand -”

They ramble all the way to the stop, and Phil finds himself feeling better despite the fruitless hours of wandering a dusty house.

“This is me,” Phil says as he sees headlights coming down the street towards them.

“Message me tomorrow,” Dan insists. For a moment, they’re both just standing there. Phil has no idea what he’s supposed to do in this situation. Surely a handshake would be weird, but would a hug be weirder? Should he just pat their shoulder, or is that absolutely the creepiest thing he could do? They had both waved, yesterday, so maybe that’s what he ought to do again. His eyes drift to Dan’s mouth. The product is still mostly there, but there are indents where their front teeth have been digging all night that show the natural colour of their lips.

That’s not an option, Phil reminds himself with a little shake. He’s about to keep overthinking it when Dan wraps their arms around him and says something that sounds like a goodnight. They smell good, and they feel good, and the only thing that gets Phil stepping back is the sound of a bus stopping next to them.

“Bye,” he says, quiet. Dan’s smile is almost enough to make him miss this bus and wait for the next one.

#words words words #quiet on widow's peak

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hellogoodbye741 · 5 years ago

Text

All the book reviews I should have been doing in real time, but imma piece of garbage(tm)

Please ignore this second (or possibly more if i don’t have enough space) long ass post

Reading Lolita in Tehran:

I really enjoyed this book. I’m not a huge fan of a lot of nonfiction writing because of how monotonous they can be, but this wasn’t like that. She really told a story about her (the author) and a bunch of young woman in Tehran reading Lolita and other banned books, and it really resonated with me.

Hidden Figures:

I had been told several times that this book was not going to be what I expected and that I should read the children’s version of it instead because that was more like the movie. Should have listened. I enjoyed the book, but it focused way more on the scientific side of things instead of the more story-line aspect of history. Not saying that it wasn’t great and a fascinating read into such pivotal people in America’s timeline, it just wasn’t my thing.

Virals:

I had been putting off reading this series by Kathy Reichs because it wasn’t the Tempe Brennan character, and therefore I did not care. BOY WAS THAT A WRONG OPINION. This book (and the subsequent ones I have since read) are amazing! They were written with teens in mind, but you can enjoy them at any level. They are chocked full of sci-fi fun that keeps you begging for more and more. I say this about very few novels, but I would totally read again.

Noir:

I absolutely adore Christopher Moore books. I have read several of his, and have never found any at fault. This one, however, wasn’t up to par. It was okay, but not like his other works. I couldn’t get into as much, and it wasn’t as funny. The story is written very much like a noir-style movie, so I could find no fault in that, but the twist at the middle/end was very unexpected and left me confused. I think I would have to give it a read and more pay attention to more finite details to make sense of it.

Number One Chinese Restaurant:

I was expecting to really enjoy this book, but honestly, it kinda sucked. I didn’t really like any of the characters, and never felt any sympathy for any of them even when they were going through struggles. The writing was a little choppy, and the constant POV change was jarring. It was a little bit of a struggle to get through, not gonna lie.

The House That Lou Built:

I know this book is meant for younger audiences, but I absolutely adored it. Like I have nothing else to say, it was adorable and I will protect it with my life.

Crazy Rich Asians:

I enjoyed this book. I’m not a huge fan of multiple POVs, but the way they did it in this book wasn’t bad at all. I really want to see the movie and see how it compares.

Da Vinci Code:

Tis a classic I have read several times over. Dan Brown got it going on.

Post Mordem:

I love the Kathy Reichs books and have read several of them (unfortunately not in order). This is the first book in the series, and I really liked seeing how it all got started. Kathy Reichs tries to make sure to make the science aspect of the book both for the idiots and the people who know their shit, which is great. Gotta represent my North Carolina ladiesss

77 Shadow Street:

This book was all kinds of fucked up. Every time I thought I got the plot and what was going on, they fucked me over again. I said “what the fuck” at least once every chapter.

Raisin in the Sun:

Don’t know how it took me so long to read this play. Absolutely adored the characters and the storyline, and the resolution at the end was bittersweet. Would love to see it performed and get the true experience and emotion.

House on Mango Street:

I have read this book a handful of times too, and I enjoy it every single time. The book is short and sweet, and the poetry graceful and moving. Will probably read again and again in the future.

Whipping Boy:

I first read this in the 4th grade and it has resonated with me ever since. It takes like an hour to read, but it is filled with so much in the meantime. All about dat bourgeoise bullshitttttt and how it can be rectified.

In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson:

Haven’t read this since elementary school, and had forgotten how sweet this story is. The trials the young girl goes through and how she triumphs, in the end, leaves me with the biggest smile on my face.

Red Scarf Girl:

Also been a while since last reading this book. It’s a beautiful and tragic story about the rise of communism and the struggles that everyone in their country faced. I think it was based on a true story but honestly can’t remember. Would definitely read again.

Journey of Little Charles:

This was an endearing ‘growing up’ historical novel. I enjoyed it.

Ivy Aberdeen’s Letters to the World:

This was absolutely GREAT. Such a beautiful way to explore and introduce the LGBTQIA+ community to younger audiences.

Children of Blood and Bone:

I really enjoyed this book, and want to read the rest of the series too. It was a very immersive story that kept me on the edge of my seat throughout the whole story.

Chaos/Code/Exposure:

I’m just going to do these three as one since they’re all part of the same series. I really enjoy the Virals series, and each time you think there’s nowhere else to go, Reichs and her son introduce something you would have never expected.

Sing, unburied, sing:

Thought I was gonna like this one more than I did. It just kinda lagged for me and was hard to get into.

Lucky Broken Girl:

I thought this was a beautiful and heartbreaking book (and true story) about a girl who is confined to her bed practically paralyzed. It was nice to watch her get through her struggles and come out on top in the end.

Finding Langston:

This was a very cute story about a poc country boy going to the city and discovering himself through a love of books, and though it is meant for younger audiences, I enjoyed it immensely.

The Dollar Kids:

Another cute story meant for kids about finding one's self and working through trauma in a way that children can understand.

Winnie’s Great War:

It’s the absolutely true story of the English army adopting a bear in the 40s told through the POV of the bear. I do not need to say more.

Ballet Shoes:

I’m a sucker for three young girls following their dreams and one of them being ballet. Yaas queen.

Song for a Whale:

An absolutely stunning tale of following your dreams and fighting through all adversities to get there. Also, the main character is deaf, and being HOH myself, loved having the representation (even if the story if for younger children).

It’s Not a Perfect World, but I’ll take It:

Told from the perspective and real-life story of a girl living with autism, and some things that can help others learn how to accept that they are just like anyone else, and some things on how to make life a bit easier. Loved seeing life through that perspective, even if it was only for a little while.

Rapunzel’s Revenge:

Loved this comic’s twist on the classic tale of Rapunzel. Rapunzel takes her life into her own hands and kicks ass

Ghost Doll and Jasper:

This was a perfect mix between cute and creepy. A combination most would find weird, but I loved it!

Color Purple:

I’ve been hearing about this book for as long as I could remember, but never at any point had anyone ever talked about the plot?? It wasn’t what I expected at all, but it really made me feel something,

We Will Not Be Silent:

NEVER AGAIN MEANS NOW, NEVER AGAIN MEANS NOW

The Woman Who Smashed Codes:

A fascinating read, but on par with Hidden Figures where there was a lot that I just didn’t understand.

The Lowlands:

It took me almost 3/4 of the way into the book to actually get into the plot and understand what was going on. Maybe another read-through might help, but eh.

1776:

I love history, but the sheer length of this book and the unending quality about it was #strugglebus

Born a Crime:

Nobody should be born illegal, nobody should be illegal period. Trevor Noah, I’m sorry a rude ass country did that to you.

Stalking Jack the Ripper:

Yooooooo, read this shit!

Winnie the Pooh:

You already know who it is

Eragon:

It has been so long since I have read this series. I had forgotten how long the books were, but #worthit

Titus Andronicus:

Did not understand it while I was reading it. Saw it performed the next day and was like “ohhhhhhh, i get it now”

How to Train Your Dragon:

Nothing like the movie, at all. Still cute tho.

Howl’s Moving Castle:

Was just like the movie, except even more. There was a whole other plot point that just added to the concept of Howl that made it even better.

Other Words from Home:

Beautiful story of a young girl moving halfway across the world and dealing with the hardships that come with it.

Hunting Prince Dracula:

Do you like UST between two dork scientist badasses??? READ DAT SHIT

Sweep:

This was both incredibly sweet, and absolutely sad, while also throwing in some kill the capitalist bourgeoise and I loved it.

Errant Prince:

Four words-

Gay.

Trans.

Wizard.

Knight.

Diary of Anne Frank:

You get so enamored with the girl she was, that you forget that she never got to the be the girl she could have been.

:’(

The Help:

EAT

SHIT

Black Leopard, Red Wolf:

Not a big fan of the random and multiple rape scenes, and the plot was hard to follow.

Hunger Makes me a Modern Girl:

It was a good, short read.

In Another time:

I got straight and happy couple baited and I was denied but in a beautiful way so #allowed.

A Place For Us:

Another one where the plot was a little hard to follow, but I actually enjoyed it nonetheless.

Sun is Also a Star:

Thought I was gonna be denied my happy ending, turned it around on the last page. Hell yuss.

Prodigal Summer:

Thought I was gonna enjoy it more since I too am from rural Appalachia. Nah

Zombie:

Alright, okay, a little fucked up, okay, okay, WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED, the end.

Fox8:

I cried at work reading this????

Fire and Fury:

Not my thing, nice to see what’s up tho

Song of Achilles:

GAAAAAAY

and

TRAGGGGIICCC

Genesis Begins Again:

No matter what anyone says, you’re beautiful

#book review challenge #hawkybarton

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