#one day. one day chat will learn that telling Joe he's doing it wrong will only make him double down on the thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chocolate1721 · 4 years

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Hello chocolatiers here is a new idea, and this is one of my altime favorites so far.

Ok so, Marinette and Jason are siblings who got separated. Jason is adopted by Bruce and Marinette is adopted by Tom and Sabine. Jason becomes Robin and dies. Marinette is informed of his death but isn’t able/allowed to attend the funeral. She never meets Bruce. Marinette is bullied by Chloe and then Lila and the class. She becomes ladybug and chat is useless.

Even though things in class are tough. Marinette makes a fabulous class trip. She has them set to go to New York (with tours of Stark Industries, and New York Times along with Broadway production tickets), then they are to go to Starling City (where they get to tour Queen industry, and their parks), next they go to Central City (they have some basic tours of some museums and stuff), finally they will end in Gotham (tour Wayne Enterprise and the gardens).

Marinette had a good time in New York, Lila lies all day every day, but she ignored it. They had a fligh to Starling City and Marinette had to use the restroom or something before they left, but when she got back to the gate the plane was gone, and so was her class. She had no clothes (those were on the plane) and she didn’t have a lot of money. She was having a hard time breathing when all of a sudden Tony f*cking Stark struts his way over to her and helps her breath again (couldn’t decide if she has a panic or anxiety attack).

Tony and Peter were coming back from Wakanda. Peter knoticed Marinette and points her out to Tony, making some joke of if she is a lost Stark or something. Tony looks at Marinette and immediately knows she is having an attack, he knows how that feels, so he immediately goes over to her and helps her through it. He finds out that Marinette got left behind by her class and this pisses Tony off. He then tells her he can/will help her out. All three of them then head to the Avenger’s Tower.

[[More]]

She meets the Avengers, and she is totally normal. No stuttering, spasming, tripping, or anything but treating them like they are normal. This intrigues the Avengers. They invite her to watch some of them train while Tony looks into getting her back to her class. While she watches them train she ends up handing Steve his shield (like it was a piece of paper), and Thor his hammer (like it was nothing), this shocks everyone.

Steve: Hey Thor, does this mean this kid is now the new ruler of Asgard?

Thor: . . . . . I must introduce her to the Allfather. Come child of earth.

Tony: *runs into the room, body slamming the door on his way in* DONT GO WITH HIM!!!!!!! IM ADOPTING HER!

Pepper: *appears from nowhere* no you’re not

Peter and Marinette become close friends. The hulk also meets Marinette. The team is worried, but Hulk just kinda picks her up and says “Baby” and tries to burp her. . . . . . . . Tony gets plenty of pictures of this. Marinette is a grumpy sunshine child, and she threatens Tony and Peter if they post any of those pictures.

Tony tells Marinette that he has a friend in town that lives in Starling City and he has agreed to take her with him when he returns home. Marinette will be getting picked up in a few hours, so Tony, Peter, Steve, Thor, and Pepper take Marinette out to get some clothes. This ends in chaos, mayhem, emotional trauma, and the Avengers learn how truly terrifying teenager girls are. Pepper is now wanting to adopt Marinette.

Later that evening Oliver Queen and Roy Harper show up at Avenger tower to pick Marinette up. Roy thinks she will be like all the other girls he knows, shallow and a gold digger or a super hero. He isn’t prepared for the absolute angel that is Marinette. He is love struck, and he becomes the gentleman that Oliver has tried to teach him to be. The only thing Oliver is thinking is “did Bruce get another one?”

Marinette and Roy hit it off very well (roynette is endgame people) they talk for hours. They exchange numbers. Oliver finds out that no, she isn’t adopted by Bruce <not yet anyway>. But she was born in Gotham, she had an older brother who died when she was younger. Oliver found out she is MDC and immediately wanted to commission a suit. She agreed and they were talking suit styles and colors until they arrived in front of her hotel in Starling City. They told her not to hesitate if she needed anything.

Her class didn’t even knotice she was missing. She got her room key and went to sleep. The next morning she was the first one up and downstairs. The breakfast pasteries were gross so she went to the kitchen and taught the staff how to make a good crossaint. She was putting a fresh batch out in the buffet area when her classmates arrived. Lila pauses when she saw her. How had Marinette gotten here? She made sure to destroy her plane ticket. Anyway Lila lies the entire trip as well. She convinces Max to hack into Marinette’s phone and change her alarms. On the day they head to Central City, Marinette’s alarm goes off 30 minutes after the bus leaves.

Marinette sighs and calls Roy. Roy is pissed that her teacher left her behind AGAIN. So he calls up Barry Alan (I watch the Flash tv show so those are the characters I will be using). Roy tells him about how the teacher is incompetent and left a student behind. Roy arrives to pick Marinette up, only to see two guys hitting on her. Roy stops that sh*t real quick. Then they head to Central City. They swing by Star Labs and Marinette meets Barry and his friends. They fall in love with Marinette. She is sweet and kind and adorable. Barry sees her as an innocent sister who must be protected. They take her to her class. He convinced the chief to let the class come visit the precinct. Lila is taking credit for everything, while Marinette gives out pasteries that she made at Star Labs. The officers love Marinette, especially Joe. He sees his daughter in Marinette. Some of the officers offered to teach the class some self defense, in case they were in trouble, and they refused to say how scared they were when Marinette took them down. It was way too easy for her to take them down. The tall kid with frosted tips didn’t do half as well as she did. Roy and Barry only seen that level of skill on hero’s or black belts. Lila started gushing about how she trained with some famous martial artist but had to stop due to her arthritis. The class got held hostage by Captain Cold. Marinette distracts him long enough for the hostages to escape, and the police and hero’s to arrive. She talked about everything from how he could make more money by hiring himself out as a ice machine to people in third world countries to his lack of fashion. By the time the hero’s arrived she was redesigning his entire wardrobe. He was just confused. The officers that arrived on the scene recognized Marinette and were horrified that her class left her in the hands of a criminal. Marinette just brushed it off as no big deal, she was used to it. This had them in near tears. The Flash helped her get back to the hotel. Barry was freaking pissed, so he took a couple pictures with Marinette, took her to get ice cream, and then took her back to her hotel; all before the class arrived.

When the class did arrive at the hotel they started accusing Marinette of working with Cold, but then they saw the Flash. Alya immediately started interviewing him. Only for him to snatch her phone out of her hand and delete the video. She wasnt happy about that, but Barry didn’t care. He stalked over to Bustier and started tearing her apart for abandoning a student. He then went to the police chief and let him know what happened.

Joe finds out what happened and knows that the class’s next stop is Gotham. He calls an old friend, Gordon, and tells him what’s going on and to keep an eye out for Marinette. Gordon agreed but doesn’t think that any teacher can be that stupid.

He is proven wrong when he goes to greet the class only to find that Bustier left Marinette behind. Gordon is dumbfounded, then furious when she said that Marinette can handle herself. Gordon then calls for a manhunt for this child. 15 minutes later he gets a call from Bruce that he has Marinette in his custody. He has permission from her parents to take care of her while she is in Gotham. Gordon starts compiling evidence of criminal neglect to send to the French Board of Education.

Roy was woken up to a call from Marinette. She got left behind again. He calls his friend Jason and tells him about what’s going on and if it’s ok if he stays with him until Marinette goes back to France. Jason,doesn’t know this is his sister, says yes. Roy and Marinette become an official couple on the way to Gotham. Bruce is trying to get everything ready for a non hero to come to their house, even if only for a few hours.

What no one expected was, when Alfred led them into the house. For Marinette and Jason to lock eyes, and for Mari to body check Jason. They also didn’t expect for Marinette and Jason to start crying, or for them to be siblings. Marinette slapped Jason a few times for making her think he died.

Roy pales when he realizes that Jason is her brother. Jason is furious at Roy for dating his sister. Marinette tried to keep her brother from killing her boyfriend, which is a struggle. She tells Bruce what happened with her class and he excused himself to go call her parents and inform them of what has happened. They give him permission to take care of their daughter while she is in Gotham. He also sets up future visits for Marinette to come to Gotham.

While Bruce is away, Damian arrives, sees a new dark haired minor, and immediately concludes his father has adopted another. He then proceeds to attack her, but Marinette takes a sword from a nearby knight and parries him. She barley keeps him at bay, when he realizes that she has some very basic knowledge of swordsmanship. He stops attacking her and starts teaching her. Thus an impenetrable sibling bond has formed. She cookes with Alfred. Dick teaches her how to trapieze. She gives Tim her illegal coffee recipe. Her and Jason talk for hours.

She also finds the Batcave. Only because she went to the library and tried getting a book, that happened to be the hidden enterance. She chews Bruce out for not dealing with the Joker in time to save her brother. She was just letting out her frustrations and everyone knew it. She met Louis and Clark, who she pulled to the side and told him to find a better disguise because it is obvious he is superman. She pats his shoulder and walks away. Louis slips Bruce $10.

Bruce invites the class to the Wayne Gala and provides clothes for them to wear. Marinette refuses the offer and makes her own dress. She also makes gifts for the Batfam.

Marinette is finally able to see Lila’s lies fall apart, at the Gala, and she refuses to forgive the class. What they did is not something that she can get over that easily. All of the abuse, the lack of loyalty, the manipulation, and demand for her time, energy, and supplies to give them what they want. She. Is. Done. She burned those bridges.

When the class is heading back to Paris their notifications go off. They are getting tagged in pictures of Marinette with the Avengers, Oliver Queen and Roy Harper, of the Central City Police force, with the Flash, with the Wayne’s, and Louis and Clark. They were shocked. How could Marinette get the opportunity to meet all of these people when she was with them the entire time. That’s when they realized, she wasn’t with them. The only time they remember seeing her is when they were on tours or she suddenly appeared in the places they were heading to. She was never with them when they left.

#maribat prompt #big bro jasonette #roynette #roynette is endgame #mlb x dc au #mlb x avengers au #mlb x avengers #class salt #lila salt #alya salt #adrien salt #bustier salt #caline bustier salt #the police have marinette’s back #she is the only one who is capable to take over the world

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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 3 years

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L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound IV”

Taylor opens her eyes, just once, then closes them immediately. The entire room is spinning again. Her eyes are glued together, her vision blurry. She should’ve taken an Advil before bed. She should’ve prevented this. With a loud groan, she turns around in bed, the blanket only covering one half of her body. She swallows once, can obviously feel how dry her throat is. Taylor wants to move, wants to get up and tell herself that this is a new day, a new beginning, a new chance. All of these positive affirmations that she’s been growing up with. But today, she can’t. Maybe it was the late night whiskey while being all alone that was a bad idea. Maybe it was taking step closer to Joe and his family, which truly has been a bad idea after all.

Taylor takes another deep breath, holds her hand. She’s tired. Emotionally even more than physically. She slowly sits up. A stinging pain in her head keeping her from moving further. She looks to the side, could’ve sworn that she ensured to have a water bottle next to her bed. But the only thing she finds on the nightstand next to her is the whiskey glass. Almost empty. Disgusted at herself, Taylor moves her legs to dangle down the left side of the bed. She just sits upright, feels how dizzy she still is. When she was twenty- three and the world was against her, Taylor would always feel a sense of direction deep within her. As bad as it was, and as destructive as her dealing mechanisms may have been - she always knew this was just a phase. Just a bad month, a bad occurrence. A bad relationship. But now, at age 32, she doesn’t feel a sense of direction anymore. Even more so, she feels like she’s been on the right path. For a long time. Until she decided to leave it. Decided to go so incredibly wrong. All of that, while being a mother. Taylor swallows, stands up on the soft carpet on her bedroom floor. Barefoot and with nothing but her oversized sleeping shirt, Taylor makes her way down the stairs. Her eyes immediately fall onto the big window fronts. With swollen eyes and dried mascara on her cheek, she can’t help but smile tiredly. The world is white. Taylor can already see Eleanor before her eyes, having woken up hours ago and excitedly jumping around the Christmas tree. She’s happy it has snowed. She’s happy Eleanor is with Joe and his family. Where there’s more happiness. Where she can make these happy childhood Christmas memories that Taylor always wanted for her little girl. Even before she was born.

Taylor reaches for the blue coffee mug on the top shelf in the kitchen. She quickly turns on the coffee machine and waits silently for the warm brew to enter her cup. Maybe, just maybe, Eleanor is happier staying with Joe and Naomi, and Elizabeth and Richard. Not with her, right now, on this day. She doesn’t know how to be a mother when deep inside, she’s the lost teenage girl again. She’s never gone through this scenario when becoming a mother. She’s never been prepared that something might hit her that would absolutely numb her from being Eleanor’s mommy. From putting on a fake smile, just to be there for Eleanor. Taylor swallows the hot beverage, knows even without looking into the mirror how horrible she looks. Her shoulder long hair curly and in all directions, mascara under her eyes, bangs all messed up. She slowly grabs her phone, tabs two times to open the chat with Joe. She stares at their last exchanged messages for a few seconds. And she swallows again.

I can’t wait to have you two here, see you soon.

How ironic, that she actually felt like he had other reasons to invite her over. Other reasons than to finally move on from her.

Hey, Merry Christmas. I woke up not feeling great and don’t want to risk anything, so I think I’ll be staying home today. I’ll call later to speak to E. Merry Christmas to your family, give E a kiss from me.

Taylor drops her phone on the marble counter, doesn’t even care if the fall was a bit too harsh. She then grabs her coffee mug and wanders up the stairs again. This time though, she doesn’t go back to her messed up bed and the empty whiskey glass that is waiting for her like a cloud of guilt, in the middle of her house. Instead, she walks straight to the piano room. With bare legs, she slowly sits down on the little chair right in front of the massive piano. For a second, she just sits there, then lifts the piano lid slowly. She doesn’t even move, just takes a last sip of her coffee before placing the mug right on top of the piano. Her fingers slowly brush each key, low undefined sounds coming from the instrument. She’s never been good at life. But this was all she’s had. All she could really get right. All she will ever understand.

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Taylor begins to follow this voice inside of her. Without thinking too much, she lets her hands do the work. Wanders from key to key, until there’s a melody that speaks for her.

____________________

“Mommy, I also got the new tonniebox that I wanted. And daddy and me also read me the note that Santa left for me. Santa wrote a note, just for me!” the little girl babbles into her mother’s ears. Taylor, who’s still just in her PJs, sits on the sofa now. Coffee number three in her hands, her hair still as messed up as before. She laughs quietly on the phone, can see her daughter’s excited little face in front of her eyes. “Of course he did. You’re such a good person, and you know that Santa always has an eye on that. And he’s so proud of you, same as me.” Taylor says, consciously didn’t tell her that she’s been a ‘good girl’, this year. She’s learned the difference between society telling you you’re a ‘good girl’ and actually being a good person. There’s worlds between these two things. Taylor can hear the background noises, Elizabeth probably rushing to prepare breakfast for everyone. Just when Eleanor was done telling Taylor about her presents, she can hear Joe in the background. Asking her if ‘mummy’s still on the phone’. Taylor swallows. It takes less than five seconds and she can hear Joe’s voice. He sounds careful, almost worried, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Her text this morning was probably too obvious. He knows her too well, probably can tell already that she’s been to overwhelmed by last night. Too overwhelmed meeting Naomi. Too overwhelmed seeing Joe with another woman. For the first time in a decade. For the first time ever.

He asks her if she’s feeling better, if she can make it to join them for lunch. How important it would be for Eleanor to have her mum there. Taylor feels sick, just hearing his voice again. Maybe it’s the coffee on her empty stomach, or it’s the warmth in his deep voice, that has captured her from the first time he opened his mouth, ages ago, through all the noise, on a warm LA summer night.

“I don’t know if it’s safe for me to come over, especially with covid and.. I do feel a scratch in my throat. So I think it’s better if…”

“We all got tested yesterday. It’s impossible that…”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like crap,” she says, hoping he would finally stop. Taylor hears his silence on the end of the phone line. He knows. She knows that he knows.

“Of course, I’m sorry for pressuring you. It’s just… it’s Christmas Day and…”

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me.” She then says, still feels sad whenever he does. She needs to stop doing this. Needs to stop subconsciously mirroring him. Caring so much and so deeply about his happiness that she adjusts whenever he’s feeling some type of way. Suddenly, Taylor can hear Eleanor in the background. She is asking about mommy. Asking when mommy is coming over. Taylor feels this pressure on her chest again. Is she abandoning her daughter right now? Because she can’t get over her own feelings?

“Eleanor wants to.. wants to speak to you again.” He says then and Taylor can hear him handing over the phone. It takes one whiny “mommy” and Taylor knows she needs to get up, get freshened up, get over herself. She’s not twenty- three anymore. She can’t just care solely for herself anymore. She can’t just stay right here.

____________________

With a bad tummy ache, Taylor stares out of the window, watching all the naked trees in the dim light.

You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

For whatever reason, these lyrics are stuck in her head and she knows that she needs to write them down tonight. Just when the car stops, Taylor feels a rush of nausea overcome her. She unbuckles her seatbelt and nods at her driver. She thanks him underneath her mask, swallows hard as she sees the family home just meters away from her, behind the glass of the car where she’s still sitting in the backseat. She feels unable to move, but does it anyways. After a few seconds, she’s left the car, wearing black jeans and boots and nothing but a plaid blouse underneath her coat. She slowly takes off the mask, remains there in front of the house. She’s doing this for Eleanor. She’s doing this because she’s got a responsibility. Because she’s an adult now. Taylor slowly takes a few steps up to the entry through the thin layer of snow on the ground, can already smell Elizabeth’s cherry pie through the open window that leads right to the hallway. Taylor knows she looks better than a few hours ago. Her hair and face clean. Mascara where it’s supposed to be. Blush on her lips and cheeks. Almost as if nothing had happened to her. Nothing at all. With a slight nauseous feeling, Taylor was about to ring the doorbell but stopped in the last second, as the big door opened by itself already. A bit surprised and startled, Taylor looks at Elizabeth. And the fifty- year old woman looks back at her. It’s this uncomfortable and insecure silence between them for a few seconds. But even before Taylor can say anything, Elizabeth’s face changes into a warm smile. A relief that has run through Taylor’s veins immediately.

“Oh hi there, I knew I heard a car pull up.”

Taylor nods, was just about to answer as Elizabeth already pulls her inside the house and inside her arms. This is still new to her. This is still overwhelming. Taylor closes her eyes and feels Elizabeth’s hands on her back, stroking her back up and down. She immediately feels tears building up, swallows them down in the last second, just when the brown haired woman pulls back and smiles at her.

“Are you feeling better?” She asks, a well- knowing look on her face, as she already takes Taylor’s coat from her. Taylor, who feels welcomed but trapped at the same time, just nods quietly. She doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Yeah I felt a bit off this morning.” she mumbles. Elizabeth places a hand on her back as soon as she’s put the coat away and walks with Taylor into the kitchen. Like a wildcat in fight mode, Taylor hectically looks through the living room but nobody’s there. That’s not quite what she expected to find.

“Where..”

“Oh they’re all upstairs on the attic looking through Joe’s old theatre costumes.” Elizabeth laughs, begins to stir the sauce she’s preparing on the stove. Taylor just nods, doesn’t really know how to act or move. She just takes a deep breath standing there. An old Christmas CD from the 90s is playing. The lights on the Christmas tree are lid. The cooker hood making dump noises. Elizabeth looks up at Taylor again, can see her awkwardly standing there, leaning against the counter next to her.

“We’re very happy to have you here, you know.” She says then and Taylor feels how she blushes. She never thought Elizabeth would ever say something like this to her ever again. Not after she and Eleanor left her son. Not after the last Christmas.

“I’m happy to be here as well.” Taylor then answers and Elizabeth steals her another look, then giggles quietly.

“Are you really?”

Taylor feels like she’s freezing for a while. She doesn’t know what to do with this answer.

“Of course, I.. I’m so thankful we’re speaking again and..”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” She says and Taylor knows what she knows. It must be written all over her face. A face that says ‘he’s moved on, I haven’t’. Taylor doesn’t say anything, as Elizabeth turns down the temperature of the stove and turns around at her.

“We should go for a walk soon. Catch up a bit.”

Taylor immediately smiles and nods a few times. Even if she feels like hell is loose, this offer definitely made her smile a bit more. It took exactly seven seconds to pass, as multiple steps come down the stairs and Eleanor screams excitedly, let’s go off her grandfather’s hand to run towards her mom.

“Mommy!” She screams and Taylor laughs for the first time really today, lifts up the small girl and holds her on her hip smiling. “Monkey, hello.” Taylor smiles, Eleanor and her automatically leaning in for a kiss on the lips which is followed by Taylor stealing her cheek another kiss. Just as she wished Eleanor another merry Christmas, is when she notices Naomi’s warm smile facing them. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor feels irritated again, holds onto the little girl on her arm as if she’s holding onto her life.

“Oh darling, are you so happy your mummy’s joined too?” Elizabeth strokes over Eleanor’s curls after having watched the scene between Eleanor and Taylor with a smile. She knows that after all, Taylor’s an incredible mother. A quality that she knew she’s got from the very first day they met. Right in this house. A decade ago. “Yes.” Eleanor mumbles into Taylor’s neck and they all laugh quietly. Just in that second, Joe also joins the family kitchen and smiles warmly at Taylor. He’s glad she’s made it.

“Someone’s glad her mum’s here, huh?” he then laughs at his daughter. Taylor was about to answer him, but his hand that casually lands on Naomi’s shoulder keeps her from opening her mouth.“Ellie, are you so happy you can show mummy your presents now?” the petite woman says, looking at Eleanor who’s still on Taylor’s arm. Ellie. Just in that moment, Eleanor turns her head grumpily, and goes “My name is Eleanor”. Taylor tries her hardest not to smile, but her mini- me seems to have hit the nail in the head here. Joe immediately laughs, both hands on Naomi’s shoulders now. “Darling, why don’t you show your mum what Santa Claus left under the tree this morning for her?” He says with a grin, obviously wanted to change topics to make sure that the awkward mood in the room diminishes. In that second, Eleanor moves on Taylor’s arm quickly and signals her that she wants to get down.

Together with Eleanor, Taylor now walks into the living room, knees down in front of Eleanor’s presents.

“Look, this one’s from Santa for mummy.” She says with a bright smile and Taylor decides to sit down on the carpet while opening her present.

“Mhm what could that be?” She says, swallows hard as she finally takes a good look at what’s in her hands. A colored polaroid of Joe and Eleanor, smiling into the camera is placed in the middle of the green card. Surrounded by little Christmas stickers and drawn Christmas trees with glitter hearts on them, both Eleanor and Joe have their heads stuck together, smiling the purest smiles into the camera. She can see Joe’s arm holding the camera. Of course she’s had some help with this present. Right underneath the picture, Eleanor has placed a smiling heart sticker and wrote “from Eleanor and daddy” in her messy handwriting, just the way a first grader would do. Taylor looks at the card, tears forming in her eyes. She doesn’t want to get emotional now. Doesn’t want to get emotional here in this room. But the two humans, who are so innocently smiling in this picture, still mean the world to her.

“I love it so much.” She says then quietly, hopes that no one else has seen her get teary. Eleanor looks confused at her mum, but Taylor just laughs, wipes away the tears on her cheeks and immediately hugs her. “This is so beautiful that I got super emotional, honey.” She laughs, soothing Eleanor a bit. And the little girl nods, seems to accept Taylor’s answer.

“I made the card, but Santa wrapped it up and put it under the tree.”

Taylor laughs and nods before getting up. Especially, because to Eleanor - it actually makes a lot of sense.

“That’s so nice of him. I’m so happy Santa brought me this beautiful card.” She says, takes Eleanor’s hand before joining the others around the table.

____________________

It’s been an hour now since Taylor consciously made the decision to have a conversation with the left side of the big table - Patrick and his girlfriend Jess. It’s been so wonderful reconnecting with him, hearing about his plans for after his masters degree. Hearing Jess talk about how they met, their struggles to find an affordable flat in northwest London and how excited they are to drive up to Denmark together once this coronavirus situation is over. Taylor has made the conscious effort to ignore Naomi, Joe and Tom who are seated on the other half of the table. Taylor knows she can’t block the new woman on this table out, but she clearly is taking every chance she’s got to engage in other conversations. Just when Eleanor is tapping attentively on her shoulder is when Taylor looks up and finds Naomi, Joe and Eleanor all dressed up. Apparently ready to go for a walk. A bit confused, Taylor looks at Joe and then back at Eleanor.

“We’re going out for a walk with Flint, do you want to join us?”

Taylor immediately shakes her head, an answer that came a bit too fast.

“Oh thanks for asking but I think you should go without me.” she mumbles, the last thing she wants to do right now is go for a walk with Naomi and Joe. Eleanor however continues to pull her hand, seems to have made up her mind that her mum has to join them today. Just when Taylor was about to talk to Eleanor is when Joe already speaks up. His voice in the same gentle tone that he’s always put on when they had a serious conversation.

“Actually, it would be fantastic if we could just... talk a bit? Who knows when’s the next time that we can all get together?” he says, Naomi just standing next to him, smiling hopefully and nodding with big eyes. Taylor knows that she’s being unreasonable but she would wish that Naomi wasn’t a petite and small woman, who’s got huge eyes, seems a bit shy and radiates this incredible kindness that sickens her whenever she enters the room. She wants Naomi to be someone she can passionately hate. Someone who’s toxic and mean, who gives off bad energy. But instead, she seems to be a kind, ordinary, bi- racial woman. Someone who Taylor would want to be friends with. The last person who Taylor would have wanted as her replacement. The better choice. The easier choice.

“Yeah it would be fun to.. catch up!” Naomi then says to Taylor in her British accent, sounding a bit unsure whether she’s been taking it too far. Taylor swallows. She’s got no arguments left. If she still decides to not go with them, then she would be the bad cop. A decision she doesn’t want to have to take. Taylor slowly gets up, nods and puts on a fake smile as Eleanor already cheers on her. She seems to be way more excited than Taylor is.

“Alright, it’s fine.” Taylor mumbles, can feel Elizabeth’s stare in her neck. She knows that it’s not fine. Not at all.

A bit insecure, just like she was back then, Taylor slowly puts in her boots that were left in the hallway. Joe watches her and he knows this isn’t easy for her. But knowing Taylor, he also is aware that things will feel way easier once she gets to know Naomi. Once she sees that she’s so respected by someone who doesn’t even know her. Once she sees that he wants her in his life. Forever. No matter what the circumstances are.

Joe remains standing in the hallway, watches Eleanor and Naomi with Flint leave the doorway already. Joe remains standing there, looks down at Taylor who’s still fixing her boots. Once she gets up, she exchanges a look with him and he smiles. Taylor is rolling her eyes.

I can’t believe you make me do this.

Thank you for doing this.

With her hands in her coat, Taylor slowly starts walking next to Joe. She feels awkward to say the least. Going for a walk with Joe, their child and his new girlfriend. Naomi carefully slows down to walk right next to Joe, and seems to be more than interested to start a conversation with Taylor.

“It’s such a beautiful weather isn’t it? I can’t believe it started snowing last night.” Naomi says and Taylor nods, can see in the corner of her eye that Joe is holding hands with her. And Taylor feels sick. To say the least.

“Eleanor was so sad these past weeks cause it hadn’t snowed yet, so she’s ecstatic today.” Joe laughs and everyone reacts except for Taylor. She usually is excellent in smalltalk, and Joe knows that. But seeing her so quiet makes him think that it’s not even a statement she’s giving him - she probably really is at a loss for words.

“Are you feeling better?” Joe asks her and Taylor slowly looks up, looks straight at Eleanor who’s holding Flint in her hands while walking down the street.

“Yeah definitely.” She says, doesn’t even try to sound like she’s okay with it. Slowly but surely, she feels rage develop in her chest. She cannot believe he’s making her do this. She cannot believe after everything they’ve been though, he can just go for a walk with Eleanor and her and his new girlfriend.

“Are you usually based in London or in America, Taylor?” Naomi then asks and Taylor can feel immediately that she’s been desperate to start a conversation with her. Taylor feels her staring at her. But she can’t face her just yet.

“Well Eleanor’s pre- school is based in London so we’re mainly here. But before covid we would travel a lot between Nashville and London.” she answers, feels actually kind of proud that she’s grown up enough to not become mean or sarcastic towards Naomi. And she can feel Joe do the same. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s proud how civil she can be.

“Wow must be nice to have homes all over the world.” Naomi says and Joe laughs quietly. She cannot believe he’s laughing at her. Cannot believe he would be with someone who’s from an entirely different world. But then again, wasn’t that what Joe was to her back then? A sweet escape from the crowded and abnormal world she’s been living in. Taylor dares to look to her left and she can see Naomi looking at her steps carefully. Maybe, Naomi is Joe’s escape from her. The most painful thought she’s had for a while.

“Well, I’m sure Joe already told you that living in two different countries at the same time isn’t as exciting as you may think.” Naomi laughs quickly, and anyone who would witness this conversation could tell immediately that Naomi is nervous. Taylor hates it. Taylor hates how nice she is.

“Well, I was raised in southwest London and my family never could afford to travel. So to me, all of that sounds lovely.” Taylor says nothing.

“Daddy, can you help me with Flint’s collar?” Eleanor suddenly yells, already is a good six hundred meters in front of them. Joe immediately nods, starts jogging towards his daughter. Taylor and Naomi are now left behind, slowly continue walking down the street. And without taking a closer look at Naomi, Taylor can feel how happy the other woman seems to be that she has some alone time with Taylor now.

“It sounds ridiculous, I’m sure, but you have no idea how scared I was to meet you.” Naomi then says and Taylor wishes she never would’ve started this topic. She doesn’t know anything about Naomi and she wants things to stay this way. “When I was younger I had all of your albums at my house and... I really admire you a lot.”

“Thanks.” Taylor answers, as emotionless as possible. And she can sense that Naomi feels the cold that she radiates right now. How can Joe expect her to bond with his new girlfriend on Christmas? How can he think that her love for him has ever diminished? It never could. And he used to know that. The silence between the tall blonde woman in the big black coat and the smaller woman in the red puff jacket gets louder. Taylor feels uncomfortable and she for sure knows that Naomi feels the same.

“I know you hate me.” Naomi then says and Taylor sighs. Her anger gets more with every single word she says.

“I don’t hate you.”

“No, I mean.. I get it. And I feel so sorry for...”

“What do you feel sorry for?” Taylor asks, a bit too aggressive for her usual self.

“I’m sorry that Joe is making us meet over Christmas. It wasn’t my idea. I hope you know that. But I think he just... he wants things to become easier. With us. With you and your daughter. I think he just wants to finally have some peace.”

Naomi’s last sentence rips Taylor’s insides apart. She knows that she’s right. That she just said what Taylor sang years ago. Joe just wants to have peace in his life. With a partner who can give him that. With her as an ex- girlfriend and with his child. That’s all he wants. Taylor and Naomi just keep walking down the street, nothing but the gravel under their soles can be heard.

“You know, I will never become someone for him like you were.” Naomi then says and Taylor starts to feel sick. She can’t believe that this woman won’t stop talking. It almost feels painful hearing her voice in her ears. “You... you were his first real love. Whenever we talk about these things...” she sighs, then looks back up at Tay. “He speaks a lot about you and I think there’s just so many things he’s still digesting. Please don’t ever think that..”

“Naomi...” Taylor then interrupts her because she feels like throwing up. She can’t believe that the little person next to her is opening up to her if it she was an old friend. And maybe, exactly that kindness is what drives her insane. Because deep down, Taylor knows that Joe deserves someone as caring as that. Someone who helps him heal the wounds that she created. “I don’t hate you, Naomi. But I also need you to respect that I need time. Can we not talk about Joe anymore?”

Naomi looks at Taylor with big eyes, immediately nods. She seems intimidated by the tall blonde woman and Taylor can feel how guilty she feels. Naomi shakes her head, then turns to Taylor. “God, Taylor, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just thought maybe it would be the right way to just.. be really honest with you, but you’re so right, it was super insensible, and...”

“It’s fine.” Taylor then says, enjoys the sudden silence between them more than she expected. Taylor slowly looks up, can see Joe walking hand in hand with Eleanor. His hand lands on Eleanor’s head, and even from far away, Taylor can hear that she’s singing her favorite Christmas song. Taylor can’t help but smile for a second. Maybe, just maybe, it was all meant to be this way. Taylor still remembers ten years ago, when she first moved to New York and discovered slowly that with the lifestyle she chose, having a family and a committed relationship would be impossible. Maybe, just maybe, she was right back then. Taylor sees Joe jogging backwards, making Eleanor laugh. He seems so happy today. Playing with Eleanor, knowing he’s found someone who can give him the kind of life he was always used to, before her. The kind of life he craves. Taylor suddenly feels a new feeling in her chest. It’s a feeling she read about multiple times but never had experienced herself before, in the truest form she could imagine. She just wants him to be happy. Even if it means that she’s not part of his life anymore. At least not in the way she used to be. And she wants him to ‘digest’ whatever she did to him. Wants someone to help him heal the scars that she gave him.

“Look at that house, baby, oh my god.” Taylor squeaks for the fifteenth time in the past hour, stops in the middle of the street again. Joe grins, takes a step back to see what she’s looking at. A tiny house in brick stone with a French balcony right on the canal. He looks down at the blonde woman and laughs. She quickly reaches for her crossbody bag, takes out her phone and takes a picture. He can’t help but laugh.

“We’ll go home on Sunday and you have two hundred pictures of dutch houses on your phone.” Taylor grins, but doesn’t let him stop her. She just continues to take pictures, then buries her phone in her bag again and reaches for his hand once more. In nothing but her jeans shorts, white sneakers and huge sweatshirt, Taylor walks next to Joe. It’s a lukewarm summer night. With both hands now clinging onto Joe’s, they just continue to walk down the small street somewhere here in Amsterdam.

“I’m just in awe that there’s people living here, in this.. dream city. It’s so cozy and gorgeous. I just… Joe, I could cry how romantic this is.” Joe, who’s still walking hand in hand next to her just looks down at her with a big smile. His blonde hair a bit too long. His beard grown for his upcoming movie role. He just smiles, gets closer to her and presses a gentle kiss onto her lips. She tastes like the rose chapstick she applied earlier.

“I’m glad you like it.” he then says, continues walking down this lane. Taylor’s eyes are everywhere right now. She’s smitten by the city, smitten by the fact that she’s experiencing this. A weekend in a beautiful European city with the love of her life. No big black cars. No security around her. She feels so free with him, so safe, so… alive.

“Thanks for taking me here and organizing everything.” She mumbles. The sun is slowly setting and she’s glad she put on her sweater. “You’re very welcome. We’re almost there.” Joe says, keeps looking at his phone to make sure they’re not missing the right lane. “I think we need to go that way.” He says, points to a tiny alley on the left. Taylor looks at him and then back at the tiny street and just laughs. “God, I fucking love Europe” she laughs, holds onto his hand a bit tighter as they make their way through the alley. Joe looks back at her and she’s amused, carefully watches her steps on the cobblestones to not trip or fall.

“Where are you taking me? Do I have to be scared?” She asks, and Joe laughs.

“I’m taking you out to dinner, I already told you that.” he says all smart and Taylor just shakes her head.

“I’m really hungry. Where are we...”, within a few seconds Taylor gets quieter because she’s speechless. Just as they left the tiny street, a massive canal with a beautiful bridge that fully lid up by small lights is right in front of them. And Taylor feels like she’s in a movie. “Beautiful here, huh?” he smiles and Taylor remains speechless.

“Do you see this restaurant?” he asks, points to three small tables that are located right on the bridge next to the canal. Taylor just looks up at him, can’t believe he picked this romantic little restaurant for the two.

“Are you kidding me? This is... oh my god.” With a proud smile, Joe starts walking closer to the small restaurant. Just as they stand in front, Joe starts speaking to the waiter who then accompanies Taylor and Joe to their outside table - a tiny round table on the small bridge right over the Amsterdam canal. Taylor, who truly seems to be at a loss for words just sits down together with Joe. And the blonde haired man has to laugh at her reaction. Her eyes as big as the eyes of a child and her jaw still dropped.

“Do you like it?” he asks laughing, knows the answer himself. Taylor still looks around, unable to process how beautiful her surrounding is. She’s used to big city lights and massive crowds. But what Joe is presenting her here is quiet and calm beauty. The sunset over the old Dutch roofs. The view over the canal right from this little bridge. People who pass the street on the other side with their bikes. It’s quiet and small and beautiful.

“Joe, this is... this is by far the most romantic restaurant I’ve ever been at. How did you... how did you find this?” she asks, her phone already in her hand, taking pictures of everything around her. And Joe can’t help but smile. This was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to make this special, wanted to show her some of the most beautiful places in the world he knows. He wants to take her to all of them. The special ones and the common ones.

Just when he was about to open the menu, Taylor tells him to smile at her and he does so. The picture she just took of him makes her smile. He seems so happy, his eyes radiating in this picture right in the centre of this beautiful scenery right here at this restaurant. Taylor looks at this picture for a minute too long.

This is it. This is her entire happiness.

With a happy smile, Taylor puts her phone back into her small YSL purse and opens the menu like he just did. “What are you going to eat?” Taylor asks him and Joe smiles slightly, then looks back up at her.

“Well I’m not sure yet but I already know what you’re gonna get.” Taylor laughs,

“Okay and what is that?”

“Number 21 - truffle pasta with side salad. Dressing on the side.” Taylor looks back up at him and laughs in surprise again. He just knows her too well.

“Why the fuck do you read me like a book?” she jokes, and Joe can’t help but stare at her for a bit longer. She really does look incredible in this light. Her bangs a bit messy, her hair in a bun. She looks cozy in her sweater. But most of all she looks... happy.

“I guess I just know you very well.” he says, and Taylor closes the menu and looks back up at him. It’s a loving look, an intimate one. She slowly reaches for his hand across the table and Joe also puts the menu aside.

“You do. You really do.” she just mumbles and he feels like drowning in her eyes. Just when Joe was about to open his mouth, the waiter had already made his way to them and Joe orders - both main menus and two glasses of the Chardonnay. Taylor’s favorite.

“Do you ever think about what our lives could be like, living here in one of these tiny houses.” Taylor then says, her eyes on her surroundings. She sounds so dreamy as so often. Her heart is the heart of a little romantic. Joe still holds her hand on the table, strokes the back of it slowly. His eyes are just on her. “Maybe you would be working at the Amsterdam theatre of arts. I would be a writer. We’d both may struggle financially but live in a tiny old flat. You would get me tulips every weekend. We would eat a lot of cheese.” Joe starts laughing then, still looking at Taylor.

“I don’t think that’s what actual Dutch people do on the daily, babe.” he laughs, as the waiter already approaches their table and serves them two glasses of wine. Not even for a split second, Taylor lets go off Joe’s hand. With her other hand she’s reaching for the wine glass.

“Cheers baby. To us. Two years.” she smiles and he does the same.

“Two years. Almost.” he says and she laughs slowly.

“Oh come on, do you really think I’m breaking up with you two weeks before our anniversary?” she laughs and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“You never know.” Taylor just shakes her head. He is silly at times.

“But for real now, what if we quit our lives and move to Amsterdam and become ordinary people?” she asks him and Joe has to laugh once more. She really seems to be obsessed with this idea .

“I don’t know, I like our lives.” he says, feels a sudden nervousness overcome him. It’s the first time since this weekend. The first time that it comes boiling up and scaring him a bit.

“I mean... our lives are not normal or easy. I would like normal and easy for a while.” Taylor says, looks around herself once more. She can’t wait to send pictures of this beautiful location to her family and friends. They won’t even believe how lucky she’s been.

“I think normal and easy is not for us. We’re not normal or easy and I love that.” he says, takes a sip off his wine glass. Taylor laughs and looks at him then.

“No I am not normal or easy. You are though.” she jokes but Joe doesn’t react to her. She knows that it’s one of her weaknesses. Laughing when she’s nervous. Turning things that scare or worry her into a joke. Joe, who still hasn’t replied yet, just keeps staring at her. She’s so uncomfortable all of the sudden. And she never is, especially not when she’s with Joe.

“You are normal and you are easy too. And I love you.” he says then and Taylor looks back at him. She can see so much in his eyes, in these moments. So much love and kindness, but there’s also something else. He’s holding something back. Deep down, she can feel that.

“I know you still think you’re a burden and your life’s all complicated and all that..” he then says and Taylor freezes. There’s not been many times where he’s blurted something like this out. Without thinking twice. Just like that. Taylor swallows. Why is it that he can read her mind like that. As If she was an open book to him. “But have you ever thought for a second that you’re the only one out there I ever want to be with? I.. I don’t care about anything like that. All the.. all the complications or the not easiness or the abnormal things about your life. It’s not like that for me. I can’t ever see myself loving someone else again.” He says, ends his little speech with a smile. And Taylor just sits there, at the restaurant, holding his hand. She looks at his face but his words feel too overwhelming for her to process them. She’s had relationships before. But she’s never heard words quite like these.

“Do you understand me?” he jokes at her speechlessness then, “I can’t be with anyone else ever again. You changed me.”

“I changed you?”

“You did.” Joe looks back in her eyes and he can see how deeply emotional she is. This is it, he thinks.

“You changed me, Joe. In so many ways.” He smiles, takes a deep breath, holds her little hand a bit tighter.

“I know we never spoke about this in all seriousness, but…” he stops again, looks at her hands, before looking back up at her again. He feels shaky all of the sudden. His hands become a bit more sweaty than usually. “But.. how would you feel about.. things getting more serious in the future.”

“What do you mean?”

“How would you feel if I asked you to marry me?” Taylor sits there, a soothing evening breeze passing her face. She just smiles at him, doesn’t say anything. Then, without her controlling it, Taylor starts laughing. Loudly. Joe swallows. This was not quite the reaction he was hoping for.

“Baby, are you proposing to me? Or what is this?” Joe takes a breath, then laughs with her. He’s a bit insecure, but he’s shaking it off quite well. Acting school seems to have paid off.

“I’m not, I just wanted to speak to you about it. I mean… do you ever want to get married and have kids, or what are your plans in like… years down the road.”

“Of course I want to marry you. And I want us to have tall blonde weird ass kids.” she smiles across the table, “but.. we’re not there yet. I mean, we’re not even thirty yet. I just.. I definitely need a bit longer.” She laughs and Joe nods. He also takes a sip of his wine glass now. He definitely needs that.

“Do you feel differently?” She asks him then and he shakes his head.

“No, no I fully agree with you. I mean.. I’m 27. Way too young.” he mumbles, and Taylor reaches his hand again.

“Hey, look at me.” she says then, almost whispering because she knows he will hear her. “It’s you and me until the day I die. No matter if you love someone else or.. if you hate me. I will always love you, even when you don’t love me anymore.”

A dog barks at the end of the road. The soft snow underneath her boots creak slightly. For the first time since minutes, Taylor looks up in front of her again. Joe and Eleanor are still a good three hundred meters in front of them, have now started to pick a snowball fight. Just the two of them. And the tall man seems unlucky, seems to have taught his daughter very well. Every now and then, he acts as if Eleanor’s snowball hit him very hard. Harder than humanly possible. And Eleanor loves it, giggles excitedly while speaking to Flint about her next move.

You left me. You left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

Taylor feels her body vibrating. She immediately stops, turns around at the woman next to her. “Uhm Naomi, can you.. can you walk up to Joe and tell him I need to finish something really quick. He.. he’ll know. See you later.” Naomi nods a bit confused, and it’s only then that Taylor notices how insecure the woman seems. She’s looking at Taylor, trying hard to understand her. Trying hard to read her. It’s this moment, in which Taylor understands that it’s also not easy being in her position. She’s the one who wasn’t there. Who hasn’t lived through the past years.

But Joe and her did. Every second.

More determined than before, she then turns around, already picks her phone as soon as she’s a few meters away from her. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor opens her recording app, stares at her phone for a few seconds and closes the app again. She then goes back to her picture folder, scrolls up for a few seconds. Right until she’s found it. Found something she didn’t want to see for a long time.

07.54pm, Amsterdam, Netherlands, September 4th, 2018.

Her phone still reminds her. Taylor stares at this picture for a while. Joe indeed, looked so happy. Sitting in the small restaurant by the canal. Holding her hand. Believing that they were forever. Having his mum’s ring in his pocket. Little did he know then that this evening would be the first time she would refuse his proposal. Taylor touches his face on the screen for a few seconds, then closes the app again. She goes back into her recordings, holds the phone close to her and begins to sing quietly. She doesn’t want anyone to notice her. To notice her singing nonsense into her phone - which has been the only dealing mechanism she’s ever known. She closes her eyes, right on this snowy winter day, and she’s back. Back in Amsterdam. Back in summer.

“Help, I'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right..”

#taylor swift #joe and taylor #joe alwyn #taylor swift fanfiction #joe and taylor fanfiction #lovebound #fanfiction #Christmasbound #right where you left me #amsterdam

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (7)

Till Then

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Well, it’s spooky season! You know what that means? OH BOY SPOOKFEST!!!

FF.net | Ao3

This investigation was not going well.

First of all, she hadn’t attended the funeral. Perhaps she should have, to keep up appearances, but she couldn’t stomach sitting through the service while knowing there were no bodies in the caskets.

It was wrong.

She gave poor excuses to Alya and Nino, and skipped it. Maybe if she had gone, she could have learned more, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t stand it.

Later that evening, Ladybug made a visit to the cemetery where the family crypt was. She allowed Tikki to do the actual investigating. She phased into the dirt of the freshly buried, unmarked grave, and concurred, it was the same coffin from before, with only sandbags inside.

Gabriel’s too, over at the crypt.

“Not much else to glean from this place,” Tikki said sadly. “Where to next?”

“Actually,” Marinette wondered. “I have a hunch. Could you check Emilie’s casket too? She’s been dead for a while, so I apologize if what you see is…awful.”

“I’ve seen worse. I’ll take a look!”

Marinette waited anxiously, biting into her thumb nail. She really hoped she was wrong. Really really hoped.

Tikki reappeared, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hunch was right. Emilie’s is just sandbags too.”

She groaned, dread bleeding into her bones. “Damn it.”

“Maybe they’re all together?”

“At this point, I don’t know if I should even hope for that. Emilie has been gone for years. Wherever she is…I doubt we’ll ever find her, let alone Adrien and Plagg.”

“We’re not giving up though, right?”

“Of course not!”

Marinette knew she had a chance of answers at the funeral home. The director knew more than he was letting on, but she had asked too many questions as Marinette, and going in to interrogate him as Ladybug would probably put her identity in jeopardy. She’d have to think on that one, and try to find a way around it.

Now for the ‘basement’.

Till then, my darling, please wait for me

Till then, no matter when it will be

Someday I know I'll be back again

Please wait till then

Since Felix had confirmed that the Mansion didn’t have a basement, she assumed the office building did. Nowhere else did Gabriel or Adrien spend a significant amount of time.

While the workers were still on their vacation, she went in. There was still a secretary, though she was dressed in casual clothes, and the doors were closed to the public.

“Hi Miss Dupain-Cheng. Working today?”

“Um, something like that. Organizing some stuff.”

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m just here to tell clients that we’re off for a while.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you. Um...perhaps, do you know if there’s a basement?”

“Basement? Uh...there might be one. I’m not sure. The main elevator doesn’t go there.”

“Alright. I’ll look around then,” she smiled patiently and bid the woman adieu.

The building was unsettling without anyone in it. Half the lights were turned down, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways.

Several years ago, when she had first started, she was given a tour. A tour that seemed so unimportant then, she was scraping for now. There was a back staircase, in case of fire. That much she could remember.

The big iron door slammed shut behind her as she entered the stairs. There was a door with an Exit sign over it, the outside world on the other side. A set of stairs went up and around, to every floor above.

But there was one more door. Labelled with a big ‘SS’ for ‘Sous-sol’.

‘Basement’, in French.

“Tikki! I found it!” She said to her purse.

“Great job! Let’s get to the bottom of things!”

Marinette screwed up her lips. “Pun intended?”

“In memory of Chat Noir, yes.”

“That is what he would have said, isn’t it? God, I miss him so much.” But she decided not to mourn her best friend in the dank, spider-infested stairwell.

Of course, the door was locked.

“Nothing is ever simple, is it? I wonder who would have the key. Janitor? Maybe Gabriel has a set in his old office.”

“Aren’t you forgetting your ultimate skeleton key?” Tikki asked.

“...um, yes, apparently.”

Tikki flew from the purse, and phased through the door handle. It clicked a moment later, and the handle turned.

“Wow, you’re convenient. Remind me to ask for favors in breaking and entering more often.”

“Anything for you, Marinette!”

She felt along the wall, found a lightswitch, and turned it on. Deep below, a few scant lights flickered to life.

And in the columns of flickering light stood silhouetted figures. Still, waiting.

Marinette held her breath, afraid she had been caught.

“Tikki…” She readied herself to transform the moment they moved. She was still in the dark, they wouldn’t have seen her.

Seconds ticked on. They stood, never flinching, never so much as breathing.

“Oh my god, they’re mannequins,” she breathed. “I mean, duh but holy shit that was terrifying.”

She descended the stairs, one at a time, still being quiet, and keeping her eyes glued to the forms.

They didn’t move, because they were plastic, and as she drew closer to them, she realized how fake they were.

They weren’t even good mannequins. The paint was chipping and the proportions looked odd.

“These go in shop windows, right?” Asked Tikki. “I’ve seen a few from your purse.”

“That’s right. These look really old. I’m surprised they haven’t been recycled.”

“Is this what Adrien wanted you to see?”

“I doubt it. What would mannequins have to do with anything?”

Tikki shrugged too, and looked around.

It was the worst three hours of her life.

But because Adrien had used what was presumably his dying words to tell her to look here, she scoped that place out thoroughly. She named all the mannequins, to try to take the edge off. It didn’t really help, but it made ‘James’ the eerily realistic mannequin that stood in the shadows a little more friendly instead of a murderer in waiting.

There was nothing there except old clothes, rejected materials, and a whole lot of new friends that Marinette never wanted to see again.

As Marinette pushed aside the 9th box filled with 70’s paisley shirts, she sighed. “I think...I think I’m looking in the wrong place.”

“I agree,” Tikki said, her antenna drooping. “I think we should have found something by now, right?”

“I couldn’t even find any inspiration down here.”

In the corner of her eye, she saw something, and turned quickly.

“What?” Said Tikki wearily, already knowing what was wrong.

“Another freaking mannequin! I swear they’re moving when I’m not looking at them!”

“They can’t do that.”

“I know that, but my eyes are tired and my heart is on the edge, and coffee isn’t working on my brain anymore!”

“I think we should leave then. Maybe try looking at the mansion again. Maybe there’s a basement that Felix didn’t know about.”

At that moment, her phone chirped with a message from Nathalie.

Please don’t forget, tomorrow, despite it being Saturday, your presence is required at the Agreste Manor. Gabriel’s Last Will and Testament will be reviewed, and you have been named. Since Mr. Agreste is so famous, we have asked all beneficiaries to attend. Sunday, you have off.

“Well, looks like I have an excuse to go back to the mansion after all. Probably should get in there and explore quickly. I have no idea what’s going to happen to it in the wake of...well, you know.”

“Someone is probably going to inherit it. Probably Felix now. He seemed rather friendly at the funeral. He might let you snoop.”

“Friendly?”

“More than usual, at least. But who knows how long that will last.”

“If I have to show my cards to investigate, I will. If Ladybug has to break in, I will. I’m not going down in silence.”

Our dreams will live though we are apart

Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts

Till then, when all the world will be free

Please wait for me

True to form, she arrived the next day at the mansion.

As she came into the parlor, where many people were gathered, Felix caught her eye. He jerked his head, gesturing for her to come sit by him.

As she sat, she looked at the others gathered. She recognized Nathalie, of course, Amelie and Felix, and Mayor Bourgeois. There were a few other people she didn’t know. One she had seen at the company, but she couldn’t remember his name right now.

“So,” she asked softly. “Is the lawyer going to read the Will out?”

Felix scoffed. “They don’t do that anymore. We’re just all going to get a copy, and the lawyer will be here if we have questions. Normally, I’m pretty sure they mail it, but I heard that the Will is sealed so they wanted us to get it in person.”

“Sealed?”

“Meaning no one else can read it. Last Wills and Testaments are public records after death. Unless they are sealed.”

“Uh. I didn’t know any of that. This is my first time being in a Will. Well, I think my dad has one, but he’s still alive.”

“Good for you.”

“That is—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—“

“Just shut up, Dupain-Cheng.” He chuckled. “You are so sensitive.”

She just childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

A moment later, Nathalie and a white haired gentleman arrived.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming. This is Dr. Nathaniel Grey, the Agreste family lawyer and executor of their estate. Now, everyone listed in the Will will receive a copy. Each copy has the same content, but for convenience, I have highlighted your name.” And she started to hand out the packets, calling out names as she did so.

Some of the strangers had the last name ‘Agreste’ so they had to have been related to Gabriel.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette held out her hand to receive the thick white envelope.

“Oh Felix!” Amelie cooed. “Emilie left you her corvette! She loved that car, I know she’d be proud for you to have it.”

“I’ve seen it. Beautiful classic car. I’m honored.” As much of an ass as he was, Felix sounded genuine in that sentiment.

To not seem too eager, Marinette carefully opened the envelope. As she did, she tried to imagine what he would have left her. A share in the company maybe? Maybe a family sewing machine? Nothing much, surely.

She unfurled the sheet and wow that was a lot of pink.

“What the hell?” Felix gasped, looking over her shoulder. He glanced back at his page, and frowned in confusion. “No offense Marinette, but what the hell?”

“I…I don’t even know…” She glanced over the assets willed to her.

Gabriel left her the mansion.

Up until that moment, she had forgotten she was supposed to be looking for a new place after Nino and Alya got married. She had mentioned it to Gabriel once, off-handed, and he seemed to not really care.

But if he left the house to her, could he have cared more than she thought?

The mansion wasn’t the only thing he left to her, either. He left his share of the company stocks, as well as trusts and bonds. Marinette had become a multi-millionaire.

“What’s the meaning of this, Dr. Grey!?” A woman shouted.

The shout drew all attention to her. She was a rail thin, tall woman, with high cheek bones and blonde-white hair tied up in a bun.

“What seems to be the problem, Madam Laurent?”

“I was left a small fraction of stock and my mother’s ashes, but this—this half breed harlot gets the entire estate!?”

Marinette flinched, feeling guilty and wholly undeserving of Mr. Agreste’s gift.

Thankfully, Nathalie of all people came to her aid. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has been working tirelessly and closely with Gabriel to continue his brand. She’s been named head designer for his company, and everything left to her is to help in that endeavor.”

As she and Felix looked over the list of gifts, she wondered how true that was.

“But I’m his sister!” Said Madam Laurent. “I take precedence over her!”

“Not with a will, you don’t.” Dr. Grey explained. “Children are the only protected heirs in French law. The rest of his estate is his to do with as he pleases.”

Marinette looked back at all the pink highlights. She began to wonder if they served a purpose in distracting everyone from the obvious.

Adrien wasn’t on there. Not once.

Although there are oceans we must cross

And mountains that we must climb

I know every gain must have a loss,

So pray that our loss is nothing but time

He couldn’t be disinherited from the Will, not under French law. And yet he was missing…like the Will had been drawn up with the knowledge that Adrien wouldn’t be alive once it was valid.

Pale and shaking, Marinette turned to look at Felix.

“Don’t let her get to you, Kid,” he nudged her, taking her appearance for still being put off by the woman. “Gabriel’s family has always been lower middle class, before he became famous. She probably just wanted a bunch of money…whereas most of it was my Aunt’s and it was returned to our family. Does that make sense?”

Marinette shook her head, and then whispered. “Adrien isn’t here.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. He’s gone, Marinette.”

“No!” She shouted, then hushed herself as the others turned to look. “No, I mean…he’s not here.” She pointed at the Will.

Felix grew pale too, and poured over the Will himself. “No way…how…but—maybe it was an assumption. Maybe it was assumed that Adrien was going to inherit half anyway, so he made the Will in case something happened?”

“Dr. Grey,” Marinette stood and walked to him. “How old is this version of the Will?”

Nathalie gave her a sharp look, but didn’t comment.

“Well, a little over a week, actually. Gabriel called me and asked to make some changes.”

“And why isn’t his son in here?” She asked, darkly.

Dr. Grey screwed up his lips. “You know, I don’t know. I told Mr. Agreste what the law was, and he said, ‘just write it up as if Adrien didn’t exist.’ I wonder if he knew what their fate was going to be.”

Marinette tried not to cry. She really did, but she just clenched the document to her chest and sobbed.

“Now now, my dear. Don’t be so blue.”

“Adrien isn’t a murderer! He can’t be!”

“Does it really matter anymore?” The lawyer asked. “The truth of their demise will not be released publicly. Only a handful of people will know. I doubt anyone outside of this room, in fact.” He said it so casually, like nothing was wrong.

“Didn’t you find it suspicious?” She demanded.

“No,” said Dr. Grey. “You would be surprised at how many clients have second versions of Wills without a child in it. Whether it’s because they’re hoping something will happen, or they see their child going down a dangerous road. Or perhaps the child is terminally ill and the parent doubts they will survive longer than them. Regardless of the reason, I choose to not ask questions.”

Marinette wished he had.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

“Now, did you see the conditions?”

“What?” She sniffed.

“Here,” Dr. Grey pointed to an asterisk at the end of the mansion item. “This states that there’s a condition applied, and the condition will be on the backside.”

Marinette wiped her face and turned the paper over.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng must reside within the mansion for ten years. Within that time, she may not redecorate or refurnish any room except for the ‘pink room’. Guests, spouses, and children are welcomed to join her, as long as she is the primary resident. If she is to go on vacation or an extended business trip, the house must be vacant, save for those who would keep it from disrepair. If Miss Dupain-Cheng fails to comply, the house, and all that is in it, must be demolished. It cannot be sold or gifted to anyone until the ten year mark passes.”

Marinette just continued to stare. “I…that’s…really specific.”

“More specific than I suggested, but it’s what Mr. Agreste wanted.”

With a calm expression, but a heart in turmoil, Marinette folded her copy up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Grey. If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute alone.” She took her copy and quickly walked across the lobby to her office.

There, on her desk, was a vase with a bouquet of roses. She hadn’t been in here since before the funeral, but they looked fresh. No card though.

She set the roses to the side, and unfurled the Will once again, laying it flat on the desktop. She poured over every item, not just Willed to her, but to everyone.

Indeed, there was no sign of Adrien, but also no sign of his property. Did he have his own Will somewhere else?

There was the curious case of Nathalie, who was in the Will, but received only money and trusts. Not an inch of material property, despite her closeness to Gabriel after all these years.

What did she know? What had she seen? Truthfully, Marinette was too afraid to ask.

Tomorrow, she would visit City Hall and get the records of the mansion. Hopefully, there were some blueprints in there, and the hidden basement would be found.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

#miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfiction #the ghost of Smokey Joe #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #tikki #identity reveal #murder mystery #spooky

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spruceplank · 3 years

Text

I told you I was brave but I lied

AN: based on this post by @blocklasagna Or the AU from the time after Wilbur's death and before Tubbo's peaceful driven presidency can really begin because rebuilding has just started: The universe takes Tommy from Dreamsmp and asks the admin of Hermitcraft to help him heal. Cue Tommy now in Hermitcraft re-learning how to live again and not just survive because he deserves a chance to be a kid again. ao3 || 1.7k words || First | Next

The End told him he had to go. It called to him and called to him until he could not put it off longer. When he tells Joe he's going to the Deep End, Joe doesn't ask questions, just wishes him a safe trip. He hopes it'll be a safe trip too.

When he arrives in the Deep End the void sings to him. It calls and beckons him with an urgency he has not heard in a long time. He follows its call until he spots a figure curled on a small island floating in the middle of nowhere. The closer he gets the more confused he feels. Why is there a human, a human child, here?

The End loves this child, it curls around them protectively like a guardian as he lands on the small island. Child is not quite the right term he finds, realizing the person in front of him is taller than most of his hermits and nearly as tall as him. What was the word again, a teenager? The End agrees before it comes to him and shows him a series of images he doesn't understand. The smell of fire and gunpowder. The sound of explosions, fireworks, and a mocking laughter. "It was never meant to be. It was never meant to be. If you want to be a hero then die like one."

The End shows him these images and says, Hurt. Lost trust… Watch over him... Help him heal… until his father can come for him…

The End blankets him in love and ruffles the child- teenager's hair, before slipping away back into the nothingness. This teenager must be very important to someone very powerful. For the End to be worried about this teenager who, as far as he could tell, had no End based origin - that was something new to him.

Pulling off his helmet, he pulls up his code screens around him and sets to work on letting the teen into his world. So Hermitcraft would have a visitor for a while. He wonders how his hermits will react to that. Nothing but acceptance and compassion he premusses. Maybe a little chaos and silliness but Hermitcraft wouldn't be home without it. It takes a short amount of time to manipulate the code of the unknown teen into Hermitcraft. And really it only takes that long because he goes out of his way to not actually look at any of the details of the teenager in front of him. The End had told Xisuma that he, the teen, had been hurt by others, that he had lost trust in others. He was pretty sure that digging for personal info in someone's code was a violation of trust and privacy. Especially when he didn't even know the teen's name. Right, he should fix it to hide the name when he rejoins Hermitcraft with the teen. That's the kind of thing he'd rather reveal in a meeting and not have everyone in chat question when it appeared. Especially because Xisuma was planning on giving the teen his own communicator if he wanted one. But he'd have to get him back to Hermitcraft in the first place.

After putting his helmet back on, he hoists the teen up and nearly drops him. The teen is much lighter than he had been expecting. Especially with how tall he is. That was worrying. He'll have to get Joe to do a health check and make sure nothing more was wrong than simply being too underfed. He starts his flight back home and the teen merely curls closer to him, muttering something he doesn't hear. Xisuma holds the teen a little tighter and hurries home.

“A kid?” Joe asks, looking at him in disbelief. The poet and pseudo-admin had come over first thing when Xisuma had returned to Hermitcraft and had sent a vague message about needing medical help.

“A teenager more like it, remember how mad Mumbo used to get when we called him a kid all the time?” Xisuma reminds his friend who looks over the teen with a careful eye and gentle touch as to not wake him.

Joe hums in thought but doesn't answer. A moment of silence passes as Joe continues his examination. He's thankful to Joe for not asking more questions about the situation yet because to be honest he doesn't quite know how to fully explain it himself yet. The teen grumbles something and rolls over in his sleep, startling both him and Joe. The unaware teen continues to sleep even as Joe drapes a blanket over him and starts talking to Xisuma in hushed tones, "Well aside from the visible exhaustion and lack of sustainable food or nutrition he seems to be fine. There are a few healing scabs and scars that raise an eyebrow but there's not much I can do about those."

"What do you suggest?" He asks as Joe follows him out of the room and into the hallway, the door remaining slightly cracked open behind them.

"Rest and a steady supply of proper meals. Smaller portions first, I don't think your new guest will be able to eat much at once when he wakes up." Joe supplies even as his focus seems to drift away from Xisuma and their conversation near the end of his answer.

"Any concerns?” He can’t help but ask Joe, “You look troubled my friend."

Joe looks back to the room they stand outside of and ushers Xisuma a little further down the hall. Joe looks at Xisuma in a way he knows means serious business when Joe says, "I know you want to explain it all to everyone at once later so I'll be frank with you here when I say this Xisuma. You showed up, three days ago, to tell me you'd be going to the Deep End. I know that is where you are originally from and it's where you grew up but this is a human child. How did you go to the Deep End and come back with a human teenager who looks like he's been through an actual war with the amount of scars he has?"

That catches him off guard, "I don't know…"

Joe turns on him with quiet furry he always forgets his kind friend has, "Xisumavoid -

"Joe Hills please let me speak." He raises his voice slightly louder than Joe's and commands with his authority as admin. He gets why Joe is angry and he's sure whatever scars Joe noticed are not pretty. But he doesn't have the answers Joe wants. He can at least try to explain it though, "Thank you, as I was trying to say, I don't know. The End, the universe, and the void are all one in the same existence. They're connected in ways I do not understand nor think anyone understands. These separate yet connected entities that have been confused for one another time and time again. They are powerful in ways no one knows the scope of. At first when the End called me home I ignored it. It's not often but even I get homesick for the home I grew up with. But it got to the point where I could no longer ignore the End's call and I went without knowing why it was calling me. I didn't not know what I was going to find or what I was looking for until I found this teen alone in the middle of nowhere in the Deep End where no humans can reach on their own. I do not know his name or his story or his history but the void called me home and brought me to this child it loves. I have never seen the End love a human child this fiercely enough that it would use so much power to try and help. The universe could fall out of balance for a while solely because of what it did to bring this child to a place I could go and call me to bring him here. I do not know why or how this happened but the End told me to help him heal and watch over him until his father can come for him. Whoever is his father is a very powerful person indeed and is someone the End adores just as much as they adore him."

Joe takes a moment to process what he’s been told before it seems to dawn on him just how quickly this had all happened, "... Well that's not what I expected…"

"Welcome to the club my friend." Xisuma agrees with a tired nod.

"If you want this to work you're going to need everyone involved and informed of this." Joe says as he turns and heads further down the hall towards the door.

"You think so?" He asks because he had been thinking about getting a few people involved but he didn’t think that everyone needed to be involved. He realizes Joe is heading to leave, but thankfully Joe turns back to wait for him before he continues towards the base’s exit.

Joe nods, "There's a human saying that goes, it takes a village. And based on physical health alone we're going to need all hands on deck in this village to follow what the End has asked of you."

He watches Joe put on his elytra as he contemplates what Joe had said. It takes a village huh? When Joe fastens his elytra on completely he has to ask, "What makes you say that?"

Joe gives him a knowing smile, "I don't know Mr. Starved to death only two weeks ago now what makes you think I'd say that?"

"Okay point taken." Xisuma says, waving Joe off towards the exit having understood the point.

Joe laughs but allows himself to be herded away. Just before taking off he turns to Xisuma and says, "So then, I'll tell everyone to meet tomorrow at noon."

"Wait, Joe!" Xisuma calls out after Joe, but it's too late.

"I'll see you there Xisuma!" Joe calls back, already flying away. Good lord things were going to get even more chaotic around here now weren’t they? Still, he thinks, the best times in Hermitcraft were the craziest so perhaps that’s for the best.

#dreamsmp #hermitcraft #dsmp #mcyt #hermitcraft fanfiction #dreamsmp fanfic #xisumavoid #tommyinnit #joe hills #hello gamers and gaymers #guess what i fell head first into recently #this will be multichaptered!!!#some future chapters will come with content warnings as well #get ready for the hurt/comfort combo to hit ya hard #bc i am going so brrrr #plz talk to me abt this au

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potatosoldier · 3 years

Text

Are you still there?

/ Part 3 /

Later in the chapter, the medic names are made up from the fact that what names were common!

The following morning was interesting indeed. Lewis had been very productive and gotten me PT gear and my WAC dress greens, which included a hobby jacket, “garrison” cap and a pretty skirt. I was extremely grateful, until he gave me my OD’s, which of course were made for men. The issue of being unhappy didn’t come to place until he saw me in them. And he laughed so loud it startled the men who wear near our barrack.

“Oh my, my, you look like you’re gonna spread your wings and take off like a flying squirrel”, he snorts coming over to me and playfully flaps the sides of my jacket. I look at him very unimpressed, and then quickly slap his hands away. But then sigh. “I should’ve kept the skirt”, I giggle. But all in all it isn’t so bad, I have my medics patch and good pants. They are a little tight on the hips, but nothing unbearable.

And off we went, him escorting me to my first field exercise with Herbert Sobel. Oh boy.

------------------

“Nurse Winters, what is the meaning of this, you look more unpresentable then any of these men!”

The screaming of Sobel starts straight away as I stand with the men from the second platoon. “No excuse, sir”I say knowing he was commenting on my jacket. He looks ready to snarl, once again. “I’ll let you off, since you are only a woman after all, find a belt for tomorrow, or I will have to find an adequate punishment.” I just look ahead my eyes cold, so that’s how it is. “yes, sir.”

I feel like he assigned me with the second platoon just to torture my husband. And me. He was in for a surprise, if there was one thing me and Dick would not waver from, that was our duty.

-------------------

I quickly started learning that I already had some knowledge to the matters we were going through. Enough for me at least. My main job for now was keep up with the men and when needed, have a plan on how to transport the “wounded” and if that was not possible, how to make a good long term plan for their health and the stamina and safety of the other men.

I was thinking and whispering with Eugene Roe as two of our men: Joe Toye and “Popeye” Wynn were “wounded”. Joe had a shoulder wound and Popeye had an upper thigh wound. Both we’re now patched up with Popeye having a syrette tied to his jacket.

“We have to take one man off the line, to help Popeye near the Jeep, and once we drag Joe far enough he can start walking. One of us has to stay here, in case there comes an urgent need for a medic”, I whisper.

Roe looks at me little uncertain, but nods. “We’re gonna need to call the jeep towards the edge of the woods, but still near enough, we can’t wait too much, since Popeye’s wound is a heavy bleeder”, he backs up with his Louisiana drawl.

We report our plan, and luckily, we get the knowledge that we just saved more than two men, we the good decision of one of staying near the line.

“But Winters, Roe, next time call for back up, we need all the good men in the line, when someone needs to be carried, try and get help along with the jeep. Even if it feels obvious, remember clear orders”, Dick says nodding as he looks over our work.

I feel pride swell up in my chest, not because we did surprisingly well, but because I got good objective critique. Learn, Sonja, learn everything you can.

--------------------

When the maneuver is over, everyone looks more or less annoyed. Sobel turned out to be the epitome of good in theory, terrible in practice. My thighs were also on fire, even if I had good physical training, the crouched running in high speed for surprisingly long distances is rough.

“So, how does it feel now?”, Skip asks as we sit together to eat. I was once again chatting with Skip. It felt good to have people who actually reacted well to my arrival.

Joe was apprehensive still, but yesterday when we talked, he realized that I was just a proper farm girl from Minnesota. Nothing fancy even I used pretty words, I was just a curious soul.

I shrug: “I was scared it was going to be worse, with all you told me yesterday. Apart from the reprimands I got for my height and lack of muscle tone, I feel like I got very just treatment”, I smile and take a mouthful of the food on my plate.

Skip snorts and looks at me like I had gone crazy. “The man screamed at you, because you aren’t able to carry a man thrice your size, but instead you dragged him, come on “, he shakes his head. I shrug once again.

“I’m here to do a duty, I’m assigned with you because I was deemed fit, and if I want to be fit enough I have to work for it. He cannot let me off”, I explain my side. Sobel had yes screamed at me for dragging Denver Randleman when he was wounded, but Christ I was happy I was even able to move him. I knew I should do better, but for now I just need to work harder.

Bill shakes his head : “You’re a fucking skirt, ain’t no man carrying Bull from this company either” And continues to shovel down his food.

Skip grins at me. “you see Nurse Winters, we fight your corner, even if you are green and weak”. I glare at him playfully. I know that’s what most of the men thought, but Skip was not one of them. He really had been there for me today on the field. Him and Penkala. If I did something wrong, they quickly did something to make me correct it.

But when it comes to others, it had been a tough day. Joe Liebgott was constantly on my neck, I heard the way he spoke about me, I heard the way him and some of his friends said I did not deserve my place here. In all honesty, I couldn’t blame him. I was a woman, it was easy for them to think that I was just some hussy who crawled up the right thigh. I needed to deserve my place here, i needed them to see that I was more then just big doe eyes and pinned up hair.

“What will you do when we are jump training?”, he asks suddenly. I was not jumping into Normandy, so I was not taken in for the parachute training. I swallow quickly and answer: “I’ll be doing PT or then preparing at the hospital. I cannot believe how big that hospital is, it truly is wonder”

Skip smiles at my happiness. It was easy for me to talk to him like this. One-on-one. I was still too nervous to open my mouth when I was in the middle of all the men. “You really like helping people, huh”,he chuckles.

I nod and continue eating quietly.

------------------

Couple weeks later, I was a new woman. I knew my routine and I was dedicated to make it perfect. I still had very few friends, but they all seemed to have accepted my presence at least. Skip was still my safety blanket among the men. Me and Richard had made the decision of being very chaste and professional, even in private. Lewis decided it was a good reason to tease us for being the epitome of purity, but we saw it as a fair and responsible thing to do.

The men did not know about him being my husband either, for the record the army had so many people with the same name, that it was not surprising that they didn’t even suspect it. Although it was harder and harder for me every day to hear one nameless sergeant keep pestering people about my husbands calm and correct ways.

Today was my day, well it was a field exercise designed for medics. Many simulated casualties so that we could practice our bandaging, improvising and so forth.

“Come on, I’m wounded plant me just a little one”, George tried pursing his lips as I bandaged his leg, making a improvised splint. I shake my head and bring two of my fingers first onto my lips then plant them on his.

“There you go”, I say as I finish the bandage. He looks at me in mock horror, “You just put your dirty fingers into my mouth!”, he gasps. I roll my eyes smiling.

“I put them on your mouth, you’re wounded, you have bigger worries”, I reason and look at him like a mother would look at a misbehaved child. He just mouths words mockingly and pats my head like I was his best dog to torture.

Then what I see next makes me freeze, some of the medics truly sedating Sobel. Oh Christ no. I stand up and job over to them. “What do you think you are doing?”, I ask sharply at the two medics, Webb and Jackson, who are now trying to pull down Herbert’s pants.

“Fuck of broad”, they snort and try to keep going. I purse my lips and kneel next to them. “I may be a nurse, but I am a part of this company. You are risking this mans health, which goes against every vow you’ve made. You may think I am just an ignorant woman, who wants to play a soldier, but I’m here to do my job. You might not care about him, but this is not the way to go”, I quietly advice them.

They look at me raising their eyebrows as if they had to care what I’m saying. Webb then shakes his head and snorts grasping the front of my collar to bring me closer.

“Oi, hands off the lady Webb!”, comes a raspy voice. Behind us comes Joe Toye with a makeshift sling. Webb doesn’t move at first not thinking Joe could be series.

But once Joe stands behind us and growls “What did I just say?”, the hand comes off right away. “Nurse Winters had the balls to tell you off. I don’t care the fuck you are doing to that on the floor, but you ain’t disrespecting her”, he says seriously while looking at Webb and Jackson both.

“Sorry Winters”, they both mumble. I sigh and stand shaking my head. “Just don’t hurt him”, I whisper and go to help with the evacuating.

Joe stops me before I can go. I smile at him tenderly “Thanks for that Joe, it means a lot.” He shakes his head and one corner of his mouth raises up: “Just fighting for your corner, Bambi”

I walk to the litters with a smile on my face. The nickname is ridiculous, but hey, I was finally fitting in.

--------------------

“So no one reported?”, Nixon asks as we sit on our bunks. I shake my head: “Nope, I tried to tell them off Lew I really did”, I sigh and look at my hands.

He chuckles: “Don’t say that anywhere else, they’ll ask you to identify”. The door opens and Dick steps in. Straight from the latrines. I smile at him in my PT gear. It felt nice, the shorts. I was not really a fan of anything restricting me from the waist down. Oh no Sonja, do not phrase things like that ever again.

He smiles at me too and then does something surprising, he walks over to me and lays a kiss on my forehead. “You really impressed the men yesterday, I heard what you did”, he whispers. I shrug, it was nothing he wouldn’t have done.

“Wanna plant one on me just as congrats?”, I ask in a tender whisper. He chuckles and gives me a sound kiss. I grin widely and take a look at my book Seitsemän veljestä. The Seven brothers, a Finnish novel. My brother send it to me one Christmas. Now the spine looked torn, Sobel had had his fun looking at it while throwing our things all over the place. When I saw the state of my books I almost cried. Luckily one of the soldiers from F-company, David was his name, was able to tell me where to get some cheap books.

“You sicken me you know, ever since she came in you’ve become a freaking dog”, Lewis throws from his bed. Dick once again rolls his eyes and starts to neatly fold his clothing. “She is my wife, Nix. And we have been perfectly professional, you of all people know that”, he grunts taking his boots off.

Nix chuckles, the sound a strange thing on it’s own. “I hit a nerve”, he sings and happily plops down once again.

And once again thank you @iilovemusic12us ❤️

#lewis nixon #joe toye x reader #joe toye #richard winters x reader #dick winters x reader #dick winters #richard winters #herbert sobel #george luz #skip muck #warren muck #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers oc #band of brothers imagines

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nashibirne · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven - 11

I haven't updated this in forever and nobody reads it anyway 😆 but why let the already written parts rot in my WIPs, so here we go.

Previous parts: Masterlist

Pairing: Thomas / female OFC

Setting: After the end of ‘TMR - Death Cure’

Summary: Thomas is dealing with the aftermath of the events since the glade and learns that falling in love can be painful.

In part 11 Kasey goes on her date with Parker, meets Anne and Thomas starts fighting

Warnings: smut/sex/porn (in some chapters), swearing, mentioning of death, traumatic experiences, violence, sexual frustration, promiscuity, homosexuality, 18+ readers only

Credits: TMR-Characters don’t belong to me / are based on the books by James Dashner and the movies. All pictures I used for the moodboards are from pinterest. Face claims: Blake Lively, Parker Hurley, Henry Cavill, Michael B. Jordan. If I violate any copyright please let me know and I’m going to remove the pictures.

Unbeta'ed!

~~~~~

"Kay, why are you sitting here with me?" Parker cocked his head, looking at her with a frown. They were sitting on a pile of mattresses in the corner of the room that functioned as a substitute for a couch, enjoying a hot chocolate as kind of a dessert.

Kasey was a little confused about his question, that was coming out of nowhere in the middle of a rather easy-going chat. The whole dinner had been very nice, relaxed and natural, the conversation flowing without awkward moments of silence. In the beginning Parker had been pretty flirtatious but to Kaseys relief he'd started getting more casual, switching from flirt-mode to friends-mode during the evening. They talked about everything under the sun just like they used to do when they were nothing more than good friends and Kasey was beginning to hope that it wouldn't be necessary to talk about their relationship explicitly. That Parker's feelings had changed too over the last months and that they both silently agreed to staying just good friends. No more flirting, no dating. So his strange question caught her off-guard, making her feel unsure.

"Umm...because you invited me over? For dinner?"

"Right, and we decided to call it a date, didn't we?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"So, let me ask you again, Kay, but with another accentuation this time...why are you sitting here on a date with me?" he asked, overly stressing the last word now, increasing Kasey's confusion.

"Is that a trick question, Parks?" she grinned, trying to laugh it off because it was dawning on her what he was getting at.

"No, it's not a trick question." He didn't join in laughing and Kasey was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"I don't know what you want to hear from me." her voice was sharper than intended.

Parker turned to her, taking her hand, his voice soothing now.

"What I want to hear from you is that you wanted this date as much as I did. That you've missed me as much as I've missed you. I want to hear my name slip from your lips again and again, because all you can think about is me. But unfortunately all I keep hearing is Thomas, Kay. Thomas did this, Thomas did that, Thomas is so funny, so brave, so nice, so smart. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas…that's why I'm asking why you're sitting here with me and not somewhere on a date with him."

Kasey stared at him, shocked and embarrassed.

"Oh my god, Parker. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I really didn't realize I talked about Tommy that much." She buried her burning face in her hands, unable to look at him now.

"Well, you do. Almost non-stop."

"Okay, okay...I get it. I guess it's because I spend so much time with him. And he's a good friend...so…" She didn't need Parker to tell her how lame this excuse was but he told her anyway.

"You haven't mentioned Quince or Joe or Marjorie or any of your other friends just once, Kay. So I don't think that's the reason."

She didn't know how to respond, just shrugging her shoulders instead she gave him a sheepish smile.

"Just tell me, and please be honest, you and him...is there something going on? Something physical?"

"No." she replied truthfully.

"But?" Parker looked her in the eyes and she knew the moment of truth was there. She needed to be honest with him and with herself. Taking a deep breath she started to talk.

"But...there is something going on emotionally. I'm in love with him, Parker." she blurted out and to her own surprise she burst into tears. "I'm so sorry" she sobbed. "I don't know how it happened, at first I just liked him but then he was so...so...perfect. It suddenly hit me somehow... like lightning. I swear I was missing you, Parks...the months on sea, separated from you, I was so looking forward to this.." she said pointing at him and her and the remains of their dinner "but then Thomas came stumbling into my life and I fell for him. It just happened. Accidentally. I don't know..."

"Hey, hey, hey...princess. Calm down, okay? No need to cry." He took her in his arms, cradling her gently till her crying fit was over.

"I'm sorry." she said again, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Would you please stop apologizing, Kay?"

She nodded, staring at her feet.

"You should have told me right away. I mean...if I hadn't mentioned it...would you have said anything at all? What was your plan? To date me, secretly yearning for him?"

"No! Of course not. I was planning on telling you how my feelings have changed but then you stopped flirting and I thought maybe your feelings have changed too and there is no need to talk about it at all…" Kasey still didn't dare to look him in the eyes.

"I stopped flirting because you wouldn't stop talking about him…" His voice was hoarse and the smile he gave her didn't reach his eyes. When Kasey finally looked at him, it didn't take much to tell how hurt he was.

"To be honest, Kay, I already had a notion earlier at the beach. I saw your little exchange during the lunch break and I had the strange feeling that you and the guy are already closer than we have ever been. And when you got angry because I called him a greenhorn, I knew he was special to you. But I hoped it was just feelings of friendship."

"I wish it was." she sighed. "I'm sorry. I really don't know what else to say, Parker."

"It's all right. It was me who wanted us to wait in the first place. We separated as friends and I don't deny it, I expected us to become more than this after our return, but you didn't make any promises and neither did I. So there's no need to justify yourself or to apologize."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No, I'm not. I know you didn't do it on purpose or to hurt me. We don't choose who we love, do we?" he sighed.

"And please don't be mad at Thomas, okay? It's not his fault."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "Are you scared I'm gonna kick his little ass?"

"You wouldn't!"

"We'll see." Parker grinned, causing Kasey to slap him on his leg.

"Promise!"

"Okay, okay, I promise. I'm not gonna touch a hair on his head."

"Good." Kasey smiled, stifling a yawn. She was so tired. The lack of sleep, the hard work all day, this conversation, the crying…

"So you love the guy. What about him? Does he feel the same?"

"No, I don't think so."

"How's that?"

"Let's just say he's not looking for love, okay?" Kasey was way too exhausted to tell Parker the whole story. She slowly sank down on Parker's lap, stretching out on the mattress, yawning.

"But he looks at you with a lot of love, Kay."

"No he doesn't…" was all Kasey managed to mumble before falling asleep, missing Parker's answer.

"I think you're wrong, princess."

The next morning she found herself on the mattresses, wrapped up in a blanket, blended by the sun, shining through the window right into her face. She raised her head, looking for Parker who was lying in his bed, smiling at her.

"Good Morning."

"Morning…"

"I didn't have the heart to wake you up, so I thought you could just as well spend the night here with me."

"Thanks." she smiled at him gratefully. "I really appreciate that. Not only that you let me sleep here. Everything. Your understanding, your reaction. The way you handle this situation. I know I hurt you and I hope you know that's the last thing I wanted to do."

"Of course. I just want us to stay friends, Kasey." He got up and put on a shirt before he went to the stove, putting the kettle on.

"What about breakfast?"

'No, thanks, Parks." Kasey got up, straightening her clothes. "I don't want to abuse your hospitality. And I need some time to think."

"Sure," he nodded. "And Kay?" Parker turned around to look at her. "I want you to be happy, okay? And if he's the one for you...then I'll be fine. I just want you to know…"

Kasey smiled and walked over to him, hugging him tightly. "Thanks. This means a lot to me."

***

When Kasey left Parker's hut, she unfortunately ran right into Anne, who was on her way to the laundry shack.

"Uh-huh...you really don't waste any time, do you." Anne greeted her, a smug smile on her face.

"Excuse me?" Kasey decided to play dumb, hoping to avoid a longer conversation. But Anne wasn't willing to do her the favor.

"You and Parker I mean. There were rumours going round that you and him are a thing and obviously it's true. I'm dying to see Tommy's face when he finds out. He's gonna be so pissed and disappointed."

"What?" Kasey didn't even try to hide her annoyance.

"You don't have to act stupid." Anne snapped, her eyes cold. "Our little Casanova is in love with you and I'm not denying it...it's gonna be lots of fun to see him die from jealousy. The big player losing the most important game."

"Wait...what are you talking about, Anne? " Kasey couldn't believe her ears.

"Ooohhhh....you didn't know. He hasn't told you. What a fucking coward." Anne let out a contemptuous snort.

"Anne, I'm really not in the mood for some stupid games, okay? Thomas doesn't do love, just sex and you know that."

"Yeah, that's what I thought until the day before yesterday, when he called me by your name."

"He confused your name with mine...that doesn't mean anything." Kasey crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"He called me Kasey, cuming in my mouth, screaming your name when he orgasmed." Anne said, her voice sharp. "And when I confronted him about it, telling him he loves you right in his face, he didn't even try to deny it. So you better believe me."

Kasey stared at her speechless, unable to think clearly. "It's gonna be a little awkward to work with him from now on, don't you think?" Anne gave her a triumphant and malicious smile before turning around and walking away without another word, leaving Kasey dazed and confused. It took her a few minutes to think straight again but when she'd finally managed to compose herself she knew there was only one place she could go now. There was only one person who was gonna help her, listen to her, and talk to her with unabashed openness. The only person who really knew her, maybe better than she knew herself.

*****

When Thomas woke up refreshed and with new strength, his mood was as bright and sunny as the morning. After a night of brooding over the fact that Kasey was on a dinner with Mr Perfect he felt ready for battle now. He was not going to give up that easily.

"Morning, Tommy" Minho greeted, entering their hut with a little basket filled with eggs from their hens.

"Good morning my friend." Thomas was all smiles.

"Wow… you're in a good mood." Minho raised an eyebrow.

"Yep, I am. Tonight's the night. The big party. And I'm finally gonna win Kasey's heart. To hell with Parker Higgins."

Today was the anniversary of the island's discovery and the camp members celebrated it with a big beach party every year.

"Yeah, man! That's the spirit." Minho gave his friend a high five. He was happy to see Thomas in high spirits, ready to fight for the woman he obviously really loved. Just 12 hours ago Thomas had been a picture of misery, moping and full of jealousy and lovesickness. But now he seemed to be optimistic and eager for action again, which was much more like him.

"So, what's the plan?" Minho wanted to know. He handed the eggs over to Thomas who started to make scrambled eggs for breakfast.

"I'm going to tell her that I love her. No matter what. Even if she's with him now."

"I doubt that. As I said yesterday...the fact that they had dinner together doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, we'll see. But I better expect the worst so I won't be disappointed… I just want her to know how I feel."

"That's good, Tommy. You belong together, if you find love you gotta grab it." Minho said, setting the table.

"Wise words from a wise man, but what about you?" Thomas turned around, the pan with the eggs in his hand, serving each of them a portion, before sitting down.

"Me? What do you mean?" Minho was visibly confused.

"Are you gonna grab love tonight?"

Minho stared at him, chewing on a piece of bread.

"I don't know what you're talking about, shuck-face."

"I'm talking about Quincy."

Minho dropped his fork, his body stiffening.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah, I heard you, but I don't know what you're getting at." Minho leaned back in his chair with a frown.

"It's just...I think you like Quincy. A lot."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"I don't know, just a feeling?"

"A feeling?"

"Yes. The way you look at him. I've never seen you look at someone like this. And you spent a lot of time with him. And…." Thomas hesitated.

"And what?" Minho gave him a challenging look.

"And there are so many girls hitting on you and you don't seem to care a bit. You don't even look at them. You don't have dates and...well...no sex life. You live like a monk, man."

"Well, not everyone feels the need to fuck around, Thomas." Minho snapped, crossing his arms in front of his wide chest.

Thomas leaned forward, looking at his friend.

"I know and I don't want to pry, Minho. It's alright if you don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry."

Minho took his time before answering.

"No, it's okay." He sighed. "I just tried so hard to hide it but it seems I was pretty obvious."

"To me it was obvious but I know you very well. Why would you want to hide it in the first place? You know you could have talked to me."

"Like you talked to me about Kasey?" Minho raised his eyebrows. "It took kind of a nervous breakdown to make you open up to me about her."

"Okay, okay." Thomas grinned. "Maybe we both suck at talking about feelings and stuff."

"Yeah." Minho laughed and the tension between them vanished.

"So you're into men?"

"Yes, shank. You got it." Minho threw a piece of egg at him. "In the glade I fell in love with Ben…"

"You and him were…?"

"No!" Minho interrupted Thomas. "No. He had no idea how I felt."

"Must have been hard for you."

"It was, especially when he was banished. But I never considered myself gay, you know. I thought I fell in love with a boy due to the lack of girls. That once I would meet girls I would eventually fall in love like it's supposed to be." Minho shrugged.

"But you didn't."

"No. I wanted to. I tried to. But it didn't work. I didn't feel anything more than friendship for any of the girls. And then Quincy came along and somehow I slowly fell for him."

"That's great, Minho."

"Great? Are you kidding me? I don't even know if he's gay too."

"He is." Thomas said grinning.

"Says who?" Minho asked with a sceptical frown.

"Marge. I asked her if Kay and Quince were more than friends and she told me Quincy's not interested in women."

"Oh."

"Yeah...there goes your excuse…"

"It's not only that. I don't know if he likes me at all."

"Then you better find out, man. Tonight."

"In front of everyone? I don't think so." Minho shook his head.

"I'm not saying you should make out with him or something. But you could try to get a little closer to him? Flirt a little?" Thomas suggested.

"Yeah, I think I can do that." Minho grinned.

"Of course you can. And then he flirts back and you get really really close and you leave the party and go to his place…." Thomas smirked.

"Shut up." Minho said laughing. "Let me take one step after another, okay?"

****

Kasey arrived at Joe's just a few minutes after her confrontation with Anne. After knocking for the second time without a reaction she started to wonder if he might still be asleep which would be quite unusual for him. He had always been an early-bird, quite the opposite of his twin sister who was a late riser.

She was about to knock again, when Joe opened the door, surprised to see her.

"Sis...what are you doing here?"

Kasey sighed, giving him a sheepish smile.

"I need your advice, Joe. And a coffee."

"Who says I have coffee?" he grinned.

"I can smell it."

"Got me, come in, Kay." Joe laughed, stepping aside to let her enter his hut.

"Sit down." He offered her a chair and Kasey took a seat. From the corner of her eyes she noticed a movement in Joe's bed, followed by a rustling noise. To her big surprise it was Marjorie that appeared from underneath the bedsheets, stretching and yawning.

"Morning, Kay." she gave her a wink before getting up, standing there completely naked, scanning the room for her clothes.

Kasey gave Joe a surprised look followed by a big grin. Her brother just bit his lip, shrugging his shoulders, blushing like she'd never seen him blush before.

"I'll leave you to it, guys." Marjorie said while getting dressed. "See you later, Joe." She kissed him tenderly, looking him deep in the eyes. "Yeah, Babe." he mumbled, pressing a sweet kiss on her neck. "Can't wait."

"So you and Marge, huh?" Kasey asked when Marjorie was gone, sipping on her coffee.

"Yeah…" Joe grinned "Me and Marge."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few weeks." The smile on her brother's face told Kasey how much he was in love without further words. He wasn't much of a talker, especially not regarding his feelings. It was his way of self-protection to keep things to himself. But their bond was strong, and so there was no need to talk, looking at her twin was all it took for Kasey to tell how he was feeling.

"I have to admit, I didn't see that coming…"

"Neither did I." Joe took a big sip of his coffee, smiling happily. "It simply happened but it's perfect. Marjorie is...perfect."

"That's great, Joe. I'm so happy for you."

Kasey took her brother's hand, squeezing it.

"Thanks, Kay." He returned the squeeze. "But I don't think you're here to talk about my love life, right? What makes you knock on my door unannounced so early in the morning?"

"It's complicated." she answered with a long deep sigh.

"Is it about Thomas?"

Kasey looked at him, surprised about his guess.

"Yeah. How do you know?"

"To be honest….Marjorie mentioned that she thinks there might be something going on between you. And so I started watching you closely and I totally agree. I don't know exactly what's going on but it's as clear as day that there is a certain tension between you and Tommy."

Kasey got up from her chair walking over to the window, staring out into the bright blue sky.

"Yeah...what's going on between us. That is the question, I guess…"

~~~~~

#the maze runner #maze runner fanfiction #maze runner #maze runner thomas #thomas maze runner #tmr thomas x ofc #tmr #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #tmr fandom #tmr fanfic

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thesoobfiles · 4 years

Text

an unexpected reunion - b. allen

Words: 1.6k

Summary: You walk into your apartment and immediately learn two things: 1) your boyfriend who was ‘never coming back’, Barry Allen, is standing in your living room and 2) you now have telepathic abilities.

A/N: when i first opened requests, they were all for star wars; i don’t blame them, my name is ‘jedimaiden’. don’t get me wrong, i’m not complaining... more like forewarning: as stated in my bio, i do DC and Star Wars. just a heads up :)

It's been six months since I've last seen my boyfriend, Barry Allen. He told me he had somewhere he needed to be.

I've got to go...

That he might not come back.

I don't think I'm coming back...

Where are you going?!

For me to keep living my life.

I can't say where; but, I want you to keep living your life. Keep growing. Keep loving. Keep running. For me.

I didn't know what he meant; but, he made me promise...

Promise me you'll run, (Y/N).

...I promise.

I'm on Bus 405, my usual mode of transportation to Central City Picture News; where I work and where my friend, Iris West, used to work. Suddenly, the bus swerves to a halt. I move my attention, from blankly staring at the window to paying attention to what's happening through the windshield.

What appears to be lightning is moving frantically inside of a giant hole in the middle of the road. Something, something fast, runs out of the hole and it closes.

I wonder what came out...

The rest of the passengers on the bus chatter about what had occurred previously...

How will it affect Central City?

The bus keeps moving and drags me from my thoughts.

Off to work...

I get off my bus and walk towards my apartment. I put the keys in the door when I hear something move on the other side of the door. I pause, pull out my baton and proceed to open the door quickly. I loosen my grip on the cool, metal handle of the retractable stick when I peer into my apartment to see Barry Allen and my vase in the process of falling.

"No!" I shout as I extend my hand and the vase stops falling. I stand there, confused.

Is my vase floating or did I just stop my vase from shattering?

I move my hand from it's current position to motion for the vase to return to it's previous position and it does! I place the vase on the stand in the corner of my living room. I look over to Barry and he's looking at me likes he's seen a ghost.

"How did you do that?" He asks.

"I don't think you get to ask the questions, mister." I say defiantly.

"Where have you been the last six months?" I question, hands on my hips like I didn't just stop a vase from breaking into a million pieces, mid-fall. He looks at me and takes a deep breath.

"You might want to sit down..." He starts, motioning for me to take a seat on my couch.

"I just brushed off the fact that I can move stuff with my mind. I think I can handle whatever you're trying to throw at me..." I retort. He exhaes a deep sigh and begins to talkreally fast.

"IwasinthespeedforcewhichisanextradimensionalenergysourcethatallowsspeedsterstorunatimpossiblespeedsandIknowthisbecauseIamaspeedsterI'mactuallytheFlash." He stops abruptly. I look at him and quirk my eyebrow at him.

"You're the Flash? Heh, sorry if I sound skeptical but..." I scoff. I'm looking at Barry when he just disappears!

"Barry?" I ask.

"Yes?" He answers. I look all around my living space and Barry is no where in sight.

"Where are you?" I investigate as I tip-toe through my apartment.

"Right in front of you." He says. I look in front of me and Barry appears out of thin air.

"What? How did you jus-"

"I was vibrating my molecules so fast that you couldn't see me." He fills in. I look at him, dumbfounded.

"Or I could just do this." He states.

"Do what?" I inquire when he picks me up bridal style and he takes off.

He's... running!

Through the streets, up the buildings, through the cars! I close my eyes and start laughing; laughs of joy.

Who knew it was so fun going so fast!

Suddenly, I no longer feel the wind against my face. I open my eyes to see we are in S.T.A.R Labs, the cortex to be more specific.

"Wow! That was so much fun!" I shout.

"Your shirt!" He exclaims. I look down to see my shirt is on fire!

"Ahh!" I yell and quickly take my shirt off and throw it on the floor. I stomp on it until the fire's out.

"Aw, I liked that shirt..." I mourn as I stand in the cortex of S.T.A.R Labs in my bra.

"So Barry, how does it feel to finally be out of the speeoHHH. Hey, (Y/N)!" Cisco stops short when he sees me.

"I haven't seen you since..." He looks over to Barry.

"Where is your shirt?" Caitlin interjects.

"Oh, it caught on fire when... wait a second..." I glance in Barry's direction and jerk my head in their direction. He laughs and nods.

"Oh, alright. Well, WAIT! You told them before you told me?!" I gasp dramatically. Barry's smile diminishes.

"No! It's-it’s not that at all! It’s just that, I-I didn't really have to tell them..." He tries to justify his actions.

"What are you guys talking about?" Cisco exasperates.

"Me being the Flash." Barry states, clearly up any confusion.

"Ohhhhh. Yeah, we were actually here when he took his first run." Cisco nods in agreement, almost reminiscing.

"We were his doctors when he was in a coma..." Caitlin explains.

"Oh, well my shirt caught on fire when he sped me over here and is currently on the floor." I say, saddened as I look down at one of my favorite shirts.

Caitlin walks into a room in the cortex. She shuffled around for a bit before she emerges with a S.T.A.R. Labs shirt in hand.

"Here you go." She smiles and extends her arm.

"Thanks Cait." I gratefully accept her offering. I pull the shirt over my head and smooth it out.

I look to my left to see Barry and Cisco chatting it up. Suddenly, Cisco turns away, grabs an apple and chair, and puts it in the center of the room. He looks at me, from his position and starts walking towards me.

"(Y/N). Can you get that apple?" He asks.

"Sure." I respond as I start walking to the chair. He puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I meant using this." He says, pointing towards his head.

"Ohhh." I drag. I look at the apple and think about how I want the apple to come to me. It starts shaking.

C'mon! Come! I think and it rushes towards me really quickly.

"AHH!" I scream and put my hands out to protect myself; but, the impact never occurs. I open my eyes to see the apple floating near my hands.

I lower my arms a little, still using them to control the movements of the apple. I take my left hand, point my index finger and swirl it around in the air. The apple starts spinning like my finger!

"Cool..." I comment.

"Woah, when did you get powers?" Caitlin questions.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I've never done something like that before today..." I reply, stopping my finger and catching the apple.

"Alright, run me through your day." Cisco commands as he takes a seat behind the large computer table.

"Well, I woke up, got dressed, got on my bus, bus stopped though because of a giant hole filled with lighting, went to work, came back ho-"

"Wait, did you say 'giant hole filled with lightning'?" Cisco asks, astonished.

"Yeah. It was pretty weird. Something came running out of it, then it closed up." I say casually.

"Maybe that's where Barry came out..." Cisco suggests as he taps away at the keyboard.

"I fired the speed force bazooka at approximately 10:47 am. Nothing happened and then Joe got a call about Barry being picked up by a police officer..." Cisco states.

"Wait, you were what came out of the hole? And you were arrested?" I whisper and turn to look at Barry, confusion evident in my tone.

"I'll explain later." He whispers back.

"According to my geographic chart, the hole appeared on Infantino St...." Cisco trails off and looks at Barry. He shakes his head and Cisco continues.

Weird...

"...at about 10:48 am. What bus do you take (Y/N)?" Cisco looks up again and asks me, probably while it's loading.

"405." I fill in.

"Which is exactly the bus that was on Infantino St. When the portal opened up, the bus must have been shrouded with dark matter and that's how you have powers." Cisco finishes, crossing his arms with confidence.

"Wait, does that mean all of the other people on the bus have powers too?" Caitlin offers. Cisco has a look on his face and types away at the keyboard once more.

"If they do, we'll be ready." Barry states, quite heroically might I add.

"I just pulled up a document with all the passengers on Bus 405." Cisco says.

"I could help." I chip in. Everyone stops and looks at me.

"What?" I ask.

"You'll have to learn to control your powers more." Caitlin voices matter-of-factly.

"And practice. A lot.” Barry smiles.

"And you need a name and suit!" Cisco shouts happily.

"How about... Psy-X?" He suggests, looking to me for approval.

"Psy-X... I like it." I smile and he smiles back as he excitedly pulls out a notepad and starts drawing up what I assume are designs.

"About that training..." Barry brings up.

"I know, you guys got a training deck or something?" I ask.

"Something like that..." Barry responds, taking me to what I guess is the supposed "training deck".

I guess my life as a superhero starts here!

#barry allen #the flash #dc #barry allen x reader #the flash x reader #barry allen imagine #the flash imagine #flash x reader #flash imagine #grant gustin #cisco ramon #carlos valdes #caitlin snow #danielle panabaker

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Nine

A/N: This is the last bit of spam today, promise. :P

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

July 8th, 1986

Remy looked around, making sure no one was watching him, as he clicked the two G.I. Joes’ faces together for a kiss. He was playing “wedding,” and yeah, that might not be the manliest thing he had ever done, but he wanted to have one wedding—just one—where boys who liked boys could kiss each other and not go to Hell. He hoped that this wouldn’t land him in trouble with God, but right now, he hardly cared. Because as he made the two action figures smooch, he thought about how one day, that might be him, kissing another boy in church. That boy’s face wasn’t clear, but he knew one thing: he wanted that day to come.

And he would go through Hell or high water to ensure that it did.

Remy was pacing the length of the room, hands shaking and heart hammering in his chest. Was he really ready for this? He definitely loved Emile, yeah, but getting married was a terrifying prospect. He’d be seeing all of Emile’s family, and all of both of their friends, and some of Remy’s family and family friends too. Most of whom didn’t know he was gay until they sent the wedding invitations. What was going to happen? How was he going to survive this? What if something went wrong? What if—

There was a knock on the open door, and Toby was standing there, hand on the doorknob as he leaned into the room. “Are you okay, Rem?” he asked.

“No,” Remy laughed, feeling tears come to his eyes. “God, I’m gonna mess this up, Toby, Emile’s whole family is gonna see me make a fool of myself, who knows if Emile will want to be with me after this—”

Toby walked over and put his hands on Remy’s shoulders. “Hey, no, Rem. You’re going to do great, okay? I just came over from where your future husband is getting ready. I was making sure he had everything he needed, and he said you’d probably be freaking out, so I should focus on you.”

Remy giggled slightly hysterically. “Emile knows me like the back of his hand,” he said inanely. “Tobes, I might die if I go out there.”

“No, you won’t,” Toby said, giving Remy’s shoulders a squeeze. “Look, I’ll be up there with you, and so will Emile’s best man...uh...Theo?”

Theo, yeah,” Remy said, shaking. “Toby...what if I screw up? What if I cry?”

“You won’t screw up, and Emile won’t love you any less if you cry, okay?” Toby reassured him. “You’ll do fine, Remy. I, for one, cannot wait to see you marry the man of your dreams. I’m so impossibly thankful Emile found me for today. You’re gonna go out there, say your vows, and you’ll have the excuse to kiss your husband in front of everyone for several seconds.” Remy laughed at that, and Toby smiled. “You ready now?”

“I guess,” Remy said, swallowing.

They could hear the Wedding March start up, and Remy felt his heart stop. “That’s our cue,” Toby teased, offering his arm to Remy.

Interlocking elbows, Remy and Toby walked out of the room and to the back of the church. Emile and Theo were already almost at the front, and Remy felt his knees go weak as he saw Emile turn in his tux and his eyes lit up when he saw Remy. Toby walked him down the aisle, and stood silent vigil behind him as Remy turned to face Emile.

So here he was, standing at the altar, staring at the man who he fully intended to spend the rest of his life with. Emile had gone for the traditional black tuxedo, while Remy had decided to do the inverse, with white tux and black shirt. They were both grinning like mad, and Remy thought there would never be a day that he was happier. He could barely register the words of the priest, if he were being completely honest. All he could focus on was Emile, staring at him with all the love that his fiancé- husband, he reminded himself-could muster...love for him. And he knew he was getting weepy.

As they said their vows, Remy’s voice started to get choked up, and by the end of them, when the priest declared them husbands, he was outright sobbing. Emile laughed, kindly, and pulled him in for a tender kiss. Remy couldn’t think of a better day he could possibly have.

The audience clapped, and everyone cheered as they made their way out of the church and into the cool Massachusetts air. Everyone threw rice at them, and Remy and Emile were laughing, both at the sheer joy they had and the antics all their family and friends were doing. All that was left on the itinerary was to enjoy the reception, and Remy knew that they were going to enjoy it. One day, that even if Emile hadn’t been accepted into his first pick at grad school, both of them couldn’t find it in them to worry about the future.

At the reception, they all ate and Remy noticed with some amusement that Toby and Emile’s grandfather were having an animated discussion about faith. Clara, Theo, and all their college friends were chatting excitedly, throwing pleased looks at Remy and Emile like they had a bet going on who would kiss who the most tonight.

Guests were chatting with each other as they all sat down at the tables during the wedding reception. Toby, still in his tux, stood and clinked his spoon against his glass, and everyone grew quiet. “I’d like to make a toast to the grooms,” he said, turning to look at Remy and Emile, still holding hands even as they turned to look at him expectantly. “Now, I’ve never been much of one for long-winded speeches, so I’ll try to keep this short. We’ll see how long that lasts because this is my baby brother we’re talking about, and I could ramble about him for hours at a time.”

A laugh went up among the crowd, and Remy was turning pink while Emile just looked teary-eyed.

“Remy, ever since you started to talk I knew you were going to be something special. You’re incredibly smart in ways most people may not consider intelligence, but those who love you know better. Over the past few years, you’ve relearned kindness, and compassion, when the world has given you everything except that. You’ve learned to strike out on your own path when people try to shove you into their own neat little boxes that don’t fit you. You laugh, and joke, and show happiness like I’ve never seen before, all thanks to your husband here.

“Emile, I haven’t known you very long. The first time we talked was when you were helping Remy the Thanksgiving of your freshman year of college, and we didn’t speak again until you sent that private eye after me. Really, I had no clue what you wanted with me, and at the time I was a little worried you might bash my teeth in.” That sent another ripple of laughter through the crowd. “But no. You just wanted to make sure that I could be there for my brother, because you both knew our parents would never tell you where I’d gone. And I’ve never been more excited—or relieved—that Remy found someone who would go the extra mile, just for him.

“This is going to sound cliché, but in my mind, you two were made for each other. I couldn’t be happier to see the two of you together, ‘til death do you part.’ I hope that when the two of you are together, you get to feel infinity, like you two are the only two people in the universe. Emile, I’ve never been more excited to have a brother-in-law, and Remy, I love you so much. Cheers to the grooms, everyone! May they both have their happily ever after!”

“I love you too, Tobes!” Remy exclaimed, sipping his champagne and crying just a little again.

Dinner passed all too quickly, and soon, the DJ was asking Remy and Emile to stand up for their first dance as a married couple. Remy’s hands slid into place on Emile’s body, and they crossed the dancefloor to “Wonderwall” (so sue them—they both loved the song and Remy thought it applied). Emile was staring at Remy like he was Emile’s entire world, and Remy knew that he couldn’t tear his gaze from Emile even if he wanted to.

They glided across the dancefloor, sneaking little kisses as they brushed up against each other, and as they danced to the chorus and Emile snuck another kiss, Remy laughed. Because in that moment, he absolutely felt infinity at his fingertips, and his infinity’s name was Emile...Thomas...Picani.

Tag List: @escalatingtoofast @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @determination-saved @voidvirgil

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep #our creations

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alostsock · 3 years

Text

Ti voglio bene.

For @socvrates (who also betad this so THANK YOU)

Falls somewhere between What you won’t let them see. and For everyone but you.

Summary/Snippet: Nile knows something is wrong, and she knows she can’t fix it with breakfast, but she is definitely going to try.

TW: depression/anxiety, disordered eating

Nile once tries to explain to Nicky that he’s the mom-friend.

His immediate reaction is to apologize, trying to reassure her that he wasn’t trying to fill a role that doesn’t need filling, that he didn’t mean to overstep, that he was just worried about her.

She reassures him with a teary smile and a tight hug that he’s fine, and then tries to explain to him that it’s just a thing people say when there’s a friend in the group who tends to be the most responsible or protective or caring - the one who “mothers” the rest of them.

She doesn’t think he fully understood, but she does see his eyes go impossibly soft when she calls them friends.

She means it, though.

He seems to wake up every day with the sun, and always has breakfast ready and waiting by the time she (and eventually Andy and Joe) make their way downstairs.

He also very quickly picked up what she did and didn’t like, even though she never complained about anything and always accepted what he offered with a smile and a thank you. She wonders if he was reading her micro-expressions, or taking note of how much she ate, and of what. She thinks that sounds like something he’d do - Nicky is detail oriented personified.

It becomes a routine.

Every day she will wake up and get ready and make her way downstairs and Nicky will be waiting with breakfast and coffee just how she likes it (still hot, too - at the beginning, she thinks she just keeps getting lucky, but then she realizes he probably hears her get up and start moving around and has realized how long her morning routine usually takes).

Some days they chat, other days he seems to sense that she isn’t quite awake enough for talking and lets her eat her breakfast undisturbed as he reads a book in companionable silence. On the days she wants to talk about her dreams (good or bad), he listens, and on the days when she needs a distraction, he’s got 900 years of small-talk and funny stories to regale her with.

He’s so reliable and steady and solidly there for her that she flounders the first morning she comes downstairs and the kitchen is empty. He comes downstairs eventually, but he doesn’t make (or eat) anything, only moving to the couch to pick up a book that Nile swears he doesn’t actually read.

There’s a worried crease on Joe’s brow.

It happens again the next day. Joe and Andy are sharing concerned looks and while Nicky is usually quiet, Nile can’t shake the feeling that the quiet is different, somehow.

When she wakes up and finds the kitchen empty for the third time, she gets dressed and heads out.

---

A little over an hour later she makes her way back into the house, her arms laden with bags. Careful not to make too much noise she sets everything down and gets to work.

Nile sets out a plate of waffles on the kitchen table before turning back to the waffle maker. Nobody is up yet. Maybe she should leave the rest of the batter and wait until they are so that the waffles are fresh. She looks out at her spread.

Waffles, syrup, fruit… she’ll make coffee just how she knows each of them likes it.

She feels inexplicably nervous - she knows nobody is going to get mad at her for making breakfast, but she very desperately wants to get it just right. Besides, her love language has always been food, and she has a suspicion that these centuries-old people could do with some love right now.

She decides that she should add something with protein, so she gets to work making eggs.

-----

She’s just setting out the eggs when Joe makes his way down the stairs, blearily rubbing his eyes. As much as Nicky is a morning person, Nile learned very quickly that Joe is not. In fact, these past few days are some of the only times she’s ever seen Joe awake before Nicky.

Joe pauses on the last step when he sees the breakfast she’s set out on the table. He blinks a few times before a wide smile spreads across his face, an impossibly soft look in his eyes.

“Andy!” he hollers in the direction of the bedrooms, “Come get it while it’s still hot!” A few moments later Andy shuffles grumpily down the hallway and down the steps, coming up behind Joe. Joe presses a kiss to her cheek before guiding her past him and heading back up the stairs.

Andy heads straight for the coffee maker before Nile cuts her off, pressing the already-prepared mug into Andy’s hands. Andy glances down at it with thinly veiled suspicion.

Nile snorts. “Black, I promise. No sugar, no surprises, and it’s the blend you like.”

Andy takes a sip with narrowed eyes before giving Nile a begrudging nod of approval. She takes another sip before clapping Nile’s shoulder and heading for her usual seat at the table.

Andy starts digging in immediately, but Nile hesitates. Joe isn’t back yet and Nicky hasn’t come down at all, and really, while she’s happy to make breakfast for all of them, she knows deep down that the real motivation behind it was trying to do something for Nicky - to try to repay the kindness he has shown her every morning when something is so clearly off.

When another minute passes and there is still no sign of them she reluctantly sits down across from Andy and picks up her own cup of coffee.

Ten more minutes pass before Joe and Nicky make their way down the stairs, Joe’s arm slung around Nicky’s shoulders, subtly ushering him forwards. They’re both still in pyjamas (she’s learned that they don’t actually sleep in jeans when they don’t need to), but while the rest of them are in t-shirts (in her opinion the house is actually quite warm) Nicky is swimming in an oversized sweatshirt, his hands tucked into the sleeves.

Something is wrong.

Still, Nicky gives her a small smile, no different than any other day (although usually she is the one dragging herself down the stairs) before letting Joe lead him to a seat at the table.

Just as she opens her mouth to say something, Joe glances into his coffee cup and, after taking a look at the one in front of Nicky, swaps them with a nod before looking back up at Nile.

“This is lovely, Nile, thank you,” he beams at her.

She manages a smile back, but can’t completely tear her focus away from Nicky who is staring down at his cup of coffee, a blank look on his face. When he looks up and catches her watching he quirks his lips at her before quickly taking a sip of coffee and murmuring his approval. It’s no more and no less than Nicky’s usual subtle half-smile, but Nile can’t shake the feeling that something empty lingers behind his eyes.

“So, dear Nile, what should we put on these?” Joe pulls her attention to him as he enthusiastically serves plain waffles onto his and Nicky’s plates.

Nile frowns, confused. “You’ve… never had waffles before?” Surely they have.

Joe laughs. “Yes, yes, of course we have, but we have never had your waffles before. So, tell us, how does Ms. Nile Freeman from Chicago suggest that we eat the waffles she has so kindly and skillfully prepared for us on this lovely morning?”

Nile huffs out a laugh. “Um, well… I like mine with whipped cream, chocolate sauce and fruit, usually. Sometimes I change it up, but… yeah. I’d say that’s my favourite.”

Joe nods decisively before reaching out to pick up the suggested toppings and covering his waffle in them. Nile raises an eyebrow at the mountain of whipped cream he finishes with but he pays her no mind, reaching over to pull Nicky’s plate closer to him. He’s much more conservative with Nicky’s waffle, and seems to deliberately leave half of it completely plain. On the other half, he artfully places a few berries before lightly drizzling chocolate sauce over it and placing a dollop of whipped cream on the plate beside the waffle. Nile can’t help but notice that, as he pushes the plate back towards Nicky, his other hand is rubbing soothing circles on Nicky’s thigh.

Both Joe and Andy devour their food, eagerly going for seconds and thirds.

Nicky is clearly picking at his food, but every time he catches her watching he makes sure to take a bite and give her a small smile. She notes that most of what he eats is from the plain side of the waffle, but that he does manage to eat all of the fruit. She makes a mental note for tomorrow. Nile knows something is wrong, and she knows she can’t fix it with breakfast, but she is definitely going to try.

Besides, a little food and a lot of love definitely can’t hurt.

#fic #the old guard #tw: depression #tw: disordered eating #nile freeman #nicolo di genova #yusuf al-kaysani #andromache the scythian

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tracynotabi · 3 years

Text

Riptide Day 0-1

So I wasn’t going to record my time in Ohio, just because I forgot to take pictures and we weren’t really mobile, but looking back, there were just too many memories to forget and I just really wanted to share with everyone how much fun this community is, despite the fact that we were canceled.

Most people will be referred to by their names, but I’ll introduce them with their tags first. If you see this and would like your name removed/changed, please let me know.

Also, some of this is not a perfect play-by-play because I am writing purely from memory.

Also, please note, there is degeneracy.

Thursday; September 9, 2021

Starting off the day, Kevin (The Doctor) and I had basically no sleep. We woke up at 7am PDT (read: 6:30am but too lazy to get out of bed) after getting to be around 4-5am mainly because Kevin wanted to hang out with his friends in Discord before he leaves them for the whole weekend. Me? I was just procrastinating on packing.

Joey (Big Large) texts in our group chat that we never got rid of from Emerald City that they’ll be at my place in 10 minutes with Ivan (Ivayne), because they were driving up north from Elk Grove, which is about 20 minutes south of where we live.

The plan was to drive to Robert (PotatoesAreYum)’s place and then make the two hour drive to San Jose, where we would catch our 1:45pm flight.

Why did we do this? Because our tickets were canceled for Blacklisted 6 and we couldn’t get refunds so we only had credits to work from, but apparently, Sacramento Airport did not have available flights to Ohio that were by Alaskan Airlines.

We took off, leaving Sacramento and heading to Davis. Part way through, we get a text from Robert asking how far out we were, because he had to poop, but we were 11 minutes out.

Robert, the descriptive man he is, describes that his poop was ready to crown, so he was good. I thanked him for the visual, because goddamn, I needed another one after getting a Snapchat from Joey the night before of his ass hanging out in jorts.

Robert: At least I didn’t sent a picture like Joey. But if you want a picture, I could send you one. Me: I would cancel your flight.

We end up driving south to Kevin’s brother’s house, where we tried to find a Jack in the Box that was on Google Maps. We spent about five minutes looking for it before ultimately giving up and going to a Hawaiian BBQ/Donut shop. We were just as confounded as you are probably right now. Food was OK.

Kevin’s brother insisted the Jack in the Box was there but for the life of us, we could not find it. He took us to the airport and off we went to Chicago. Yes, they played Smash at the airport, because this is what Smash players do.

They also played on the flight. Sidenote: there was this very loud cat in the aisle across from me that was meowing like crazy.

Flight from Chicago to Cleveland sucked. It was hot and cramped and they took our baggage away.

We land in Cleveland at about 11pm? Parker (Boringman [Sip Mastah]) was waiting for us at our gate because he had landed an hour before us.

We go down to Ground Transportation to reach our shuttle when I read the little red tag one of the flight attendants gave me. It said that our baggage would be given to us at the end of the flight.

... Well, we had just passed through security and going down the escalator at that point.

Well, fuck.

We run into Washington at baggage claim and I’m panicking because I have no idea if our luggage is going to pop out at baggage claim. Joey, Kevin, and I go up the escalator - the WRONG escalator and we go up a flight too much. We go back down and the airport’s just empty.

Makes sense, it’s 11pm EDT and there’s not a single worker in sight.

Robert texts us saying our luggage popped out and I hate life because the wording on the ticket, I swear, implied it wasn’t going to come out of baggage claim.

We go back down, grab our luggage, say bye to Washington, and head on our to the shuttle wait area.

There, we run into Luke (Yung Quaff) and Will (Twisty) from Massachusetts. Apparently, they had been waiting for the shuttle for over an hour and it was about 11:30pm at this point in time and we’re so tired because we’ve been travelling the whole day and there were people waiting for us to goon with.

We get to the shuttle and it’s an hour to the resort. Crying inside.

We check in and our room is on the other side of the resort from Guttey and Spencer (Mr. Watch and Learn)’s room even though they provided our confirmation number when they got their hotel room. What the hell.

Seeing everyone in that room was so amazing. I can’t remember everyone there exactly, because let me tell you, that room at one point probably had more people than it should have and we most definitely violated some kind of fire hazard.

Friday; September 10, 2021

Twisty ended up staying the night in our room because we had a two bedroom, two bathroom suite with six people. Our suite had a king bed, two queen beds, and a queen pull-out from the couch. Joey and Robert - the two largest people - stayed in the king bed. Kevin and I shared a queen. Ivan had a queen. Parker had a queen. Though I believe the first night, Parker and Ivan shared the queen (?) and Twisty stayed on the pull out.

Twisty barrel-rolled the whole night.

The bed squeaked so much it was insane. I think it only really bothered me, but that was fine because the guys needed their rest more than I did.

Spencer, the god that he is, ended up driving from Long Island to Ohio, and he offered to take us to go get some groceries for his room and us at Meijer.

It seated five, but I don’t really count as a full human size-wise, so I sat at Kevin’s feet, who was sitting in the passenger seat, underneath the dashboard, while Guttey, John (Gluteus), and Luke sat in the back.

Shoutouts to Meijer. Had a ton of awesome stuff.

A bunch of wings and thighs that probably weighed as much as a chicken itself plus 2 Liter Coke for $8.

It was all a blur, but we ended up in the Chad Room at some point - the Presidential Suite, just as crews were starting.

We end up meeting Yuko, who had a very large speaker about the size of me curled up. He ended up making an entrance and there’s a video on Twitter where you can just hear Joe (Qtip) go, “I’m scared.”

Also ran into Zoey (Frost) again. :) Haven’t seen her since she left NorCal. We ended up just talking a bit, catching up, before I think Kevin needed me to go back to our room for a Wii.

I ended up walking entirely back to our room on the other side of the hotel - next to the convention center, getting out Wii, only to find out two things:

1. We didn’t have composite cables. 2. There was no other outlet.

We ended up getting kicked out after Qtip’s team won anyway.

Can’t remember anything else, other than the goon was too hard and too real but if you would like for me to include anything that happened while I was there, let me know! :)

#Riptide #Undertow #Project M #Super Smash Bros #Fuck Nintendo

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 194

194

Lance knew better than to turn to sex for emotional comfort, he told himself he did, and he still let himself get swept away by Keith’s overwhelming desire to confirm he was loved... and loved a lot.

Cuddled together, the emotional exhaustion had Keith falling asleep in his arms. The position uncomfortable for Lance, but he didn’t have it in his heart to move Keith. He loved him. He loved the soft puffs of breath that tickled his stomach. He loved the long dark strands of hair that had escaped Keith’s ponytail. He loved his warmth. He loved that this ego and Keith’s seemed to understand that they were crazy about each other, despite the clash in their scents. He’d never ever thought a vampire could love a werewolf. Not with the long going open hostility... but he loved Keith. Heck. His stubbornness over a proposal so soon into dating had faded. Keith could propose with a piece of used dental floss and fluff from under the bed and he’d still be over the moon.

Tolerating the pain in his hips, and his need for the bathroom, as long as he could, Lance had to move Keith off of him. His boyfriend trying to grab him as Lance moved his hand away and kissed his forehead

“Bathroom break”

Keith huffed unhappy about it. So terribly cute. Being a werewolf was wasted on his boyfriend. Not when he was an octopus when it came to cuddles

“I’ll be back in a moment”

Huffing, Keith let his arm drop, Lance escaping and grabbing his phone as he went.

Calling Shiro was a spare of the moment decision. He didn’t want to alarm him in the middle of the night, but he also wanted to give him the heads up on what they were doing. Sending a text first, he was done in the bathroom by the time his phone started ringing. Anxiety sent his stomach dropping. He hated how things were between him and Shiro. He’d said some cruel things, Shiro had said some cruel things. They both messed up, yet he seemed to be stuck on fear mode when talking to Keith’s brother. Sliding his thumb across the screen, Lance took a deep breath before moving his phone to his ear

“Lance?”

Oh god. He couldn’t go back now

“H-hey... Shiro. Sorry if you were sleeping”

“It’s the middle of the night”

Shiro sounded like he’d definitely been sleeping

“Sorry. Keith’s asleep and I wanted to give you the heads up. We’re going to visit his dad’s grave today. I thought I’d let you know in case he didn’t want to talk, or didn’t answer in chat”

“I thought you would have gone yesterday”

There was a kind of blame in Shiro’s voice... Lance didn’t blame him

“We were both tired, so we had a lazy day to let Keith build up to it”

“Okay. I see”

Well. This was awkward

“Yeah. We actually met a man who knew Keith’s dad and it rattled him. We didn’t tell him that he was talking to Keith, but this town wants to forget that fire and it’s hard on him”

“Of course it’s hard on him”

Shit. There was no reason for tears and yet his eyes were getting watery

“I’m sorry for calling. I just wanted to let you know what was going on. I’ll leave you to go back to sleep”

Shiro sighed deeply. There was no way he could know he’d upset Lance

“Is he okay. Is he eating?”

“Yeah. Yeah. He’s been eating, he hasn’t gotten angry or stormed off. He was a bit emotional tonight. Oh, can you bring some of his camera equipment? I think it’ll be a good distraction. We’re going to get a copy of the council records on the fire... so I want him to have something else to think about”

A stupid sniffle escaped. He wanted happiness for Keith...

“Lance...”

Nope. He had to hang up. He was going to start crying if he stayed on the phone

“I’m sorry, Shiro. I... have to go... I’m sorry”

Cutting the call as Shiro tried to reply, Lance left his phone in the bathroom. He didn’t want to go into the day in a down mood. Then again, he’d thought the same thing the previously and... well, ugh. He’d had fun with Keith, acting like they were children again. With Blue, having a sandpit at home wouldn’t work, but his mind was already planning a future family holiday to the beach where he’d bully Keith into making sandcastles with him. He’d have someone twin sit so he and Keith could have a proper day being dumb at the beach, then come home slightly sunburnt, and regretting things, but at the same time not because they’d had a lot of fun. Keith was his whole future. As Coran would say, they were soulmates. He really would gift Keith his whole being just to be lucky enough to call him his.

Crawling back into bed, Keith instantly drew him close for snuggling. Their positions now switched with Keith laying on his back and Lance laying half on top of him where he could fit. Yeah. He wanted to marry this guy... One day he’d marry the heck out of him, and Keith would marry the heck out of his right back.

Keith didn’t try to hide his anxious mood as they got ready for the day ahead. He knew Lance was anxious as the vampire had tried to clean the hotel room, grumping that there was no vacuum cleaner to do the floors with. Sullen over breakfast, Lance covered for him. Smiling and thanking the waitress that brought their breakfast, smoothing things over while Keith sat slouched and glared at the world.

All too soon they were headed to the cemetery, Keith not really remembering the drive despite being the driver. Parking in the parking lot, his whole body shook. He wanted to flee. They were so close and he hated how much he wanted to flee. This was his dad. He shouldn’t have been as nervous as he was, but all of this left just as shaken as he’d been to learn to Lance was pregnant. His dad knew about the creatures of the night, and now he was turning up at his grave as one of those creatures.

Lance didn’t push him. He undid his belt, but waited until Keith was so cranky at himself for his cowardice and made a move of his own, before climbing out the bronco. The cemetery wasn’t like the one in Garrison. There were more weeds than grass. Sand skirted the edges of the area, with a few very old trees in place. It felt lonely. Not a place people would want to visit... and he’d left his dad laying there for all those years... Somehow it’d been easier to say goodbye to Mami than it was to face his dad. Mami being gone hadn’t been real until he’d seen her grave. There was no denying the proof thrust onto him. Moving to take his hand, Lance squeezed softly to tell him he was there for him. Keith wanted to pull his hand away, not feeling he deserved support after leaving his dad alone. Hearing the police officer from the previous night describe how much his father loved him had shaken him. Reminded him dangerous it was to fall in love. How freak accidents happened every day and the ones you loved were stolen away unfairly.

Wandering through the cemetery, it smelt... unnerving. Lance’s death scent was the kind of scent he wanted to roll in. The scent of the cemetery should have been the same. There was so much death there, which was logical, but this was a cold death. A fine layer of goosebumps covered his skin as he tried not to read the names of the people they passed. His dad should have been buried somewhere nice. Somewhere like in Platt with its rolling green lawns, or in Garrison where there was no chance of his resting place being disturbed. When Lance came to a stop, Keith didn’t get why until his eyes met the gravestone. His heart doing a flip as he realised just who they’d finally found.

“Jeong” “Joe” Steven Kogane”

The word seemed glaring almost on his senses. His dad was right there and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say. Under his birthday and date of death read “A hero taken back to heaven”. No “beloved father of Keith”. No mention of him at all. Erased from his father’s grave felt as if his whole existence had been erased. He was “beloved”. He’d loved Keith and Keith loved him.

“Babe”

“I’m not there”

Lance tugged him close, Keith shaking

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay”

“I’m not there...”

“As unpleasant as it is, babe, and this is going to sound hard, but with no money to pay for the grave, I’m sure his friends put in for it. Some places charge a hundred dollars for each lead letter”

Pushing Lance away, his boyfriend stumbled but saved himself. Keith was mad Lance could reduce this to money, even if he was right

“So it’s okay for me to not be in there! I’m his son! I’m his son and they don’t even care! They forgot me! And you don’t care!”

Lance shot him a wounded look, taking a few deep breaths as he rubbed his stomach. He’d scared him. He’d scared him and he knew it. Why had he pushed him? That behaviour wasn’t okay... He was such a moron

“It’s not that I don’t care... I care. I love you and I care. You dad loved and he cared. We don’t know what they were thinking, but they were hurting too. You had your dad torn away from you. They had their friend torn away from them. I think it’s nice that they gave him a proper stone when he was laid to rest. People these days are so self centred it’s not something you’d expect to see. Anyway, you haven’t even introduced yourself to your dad, babe”

Keith flicked his gaze from Lance back to his father’s grave. He was showing his dad the wrong side of him... but he felt stupid standing there. He wanted Lance to take the initiative and introduce both of them... yet... He couldn’t keep running away

“Uh... um... Hi... dad... it’s me, Keith. I don’t know what to say. He’s not here...”

Lance moved back to his side

“You don’t have to say what you want to say out loud. Jeong... Joe... I’m Lance. I’m a vampire and I have the honour of dating your son Keith. He’s a total handful, but he’s a good man. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re here. I wish I could have met you. You’re going to be a grandfather to twins. Krolia’s excited about it all. Yes, she and Keith found each other again... I know you didn’t want to leave him, but I promise to love him as long as we both live. To make him happy. And to stay by his side for the rest of our lives. You fathered an amazing man...”

See. Lance was a million times better at this than him. Keith’s heart going funny as Lance sounded like he was all but proposing in front of his father

“Babe, you don’t have to be afraid of your father. He may not be here in spirit, but he’s always a part of you. You should tell him about you. And next time we come, we’ll bring flowers and tidy his grave up properly. Fuck... I was going to bring him a photo of the twins... Shit... I swore in front of your dad”

Keith mentally rolled his eyes at Lance swearing in front of his father... twice. That was more something he would do. He guessed he could try something more... He couldn’t really disappoint his father any more than he already had by pushing Lance

“Uh... yeah... Um... Lance is my boyfriend and he’s carrying my twins... and I... I’m a werewolf. Shiro... uh, he’s like my adopted brother without the paperwork, he um, had to have me turned to save my life... um... Lance... makes me really happy. I know you’d be disappointed that I... um... pushed him. I’m disappointed in myself too... I... I’m no good at this”

“Babe, you’re doing fine. You’re doing more than fine. You’re doing good. Do you want me to give you a moment?”

Keith shook his head. He couldn’t face this alone. He felt dumb and left alone would only make him storm off angry at himself

“No. Stay... please”

“Sure. You can tell him anything you want to say, but don’t... don’t feel like you have to rush into telling him everything. Your dad would be so happy to see you. He loved you and he was proud of you. That’s the important thing. And now we know where he is, we can come back and visit. We’ll bring the twins, and I’ll tell them about him. And you’ll tell them about him. Just because they’re gone, doesn’t mean we don’t love our parents any less. I miss Mami every single day. Whenever I need advice, it’s still imprinted on me to turn to her. It’s okay to not be okay about seeing your dad again, especially when life was so mean as to take him away when you were so young. But, babe. You’re not alone. I’m here. I know how much you have to say. You’ve said it all to me. It’s okay to tell him you love him and miss him”

If only it was that simple. He felt so unbelievably stupid. His dad wasn’t there. He couldn’t tell him face to face. He didn’t even know if they’d recovered a body...

“I don’t... I’m...”

“Babe, hey. You’re not stupid”

Keith ducked his head. He hadn’t realised he’d been venting out loud

“It doesn’t feel like he’s here”

“I know. I think humans starting erecting grave markers not only to show that someone was once alive, but to give you somewhere to go to talk to that person you miss. It’s like looking at picture and asking them “What do you think I should do?”. The picture can’t reply, but you think about that person when you’re looking at it. I know you have very few memories of your father. I know and it sucks. I’m hoping we can learn more by looking at the council records. I want you to know him. He wants you to know him. The time you spent together wasn’t wasted... that’s... kind of why I questioned that cop. I want you to know whatever there’s to know about your dad... and it was clear to everyone around at the time that you and your dad were tight. That he loved you. That he’d done all he could to be happy and make you safe and loved”

Keith of old wouldn’t have been convinced. He still wasn’t sure he was convinced and Lance wasn’t simply telling him what he wanted to hear. Yet, this pregnancy had changed him. He adored the twins. He already knew he’d do absolutely everything and anything for them. He never wanted them to feel the pain he’d gone through. He didn’t want them to be scared to ask for the things they wanted or needed. He didn’t want them not knowing him... Lance would tell them all about him, should something ever happen to him. He knew that. He’d spent so long angry that his father had left him. So many years were wasted with nowhere to direct that anger into anything other than destruction. But... if his father felt as he did, then he had been loved. He’d been loved and wanted. The last thing his father would have wanted was to leave him behind. Somehow he’d managed to survive, to survive long enough to meet the best man he could hope for to spend the rest of his life with. He wasn’t the same man who’d pulled a gun on Lance. The idea of it still made him feel like a total douche canoe. His father might not have approved... but maybe... maybe he didn’t need his approval... because Lance made him happy. He made him grateful to be alive in this world.

“I really love you, babe. I’m sorry I pushed you away. That was really uncool of me. You didn’t deserve it”

Lance immediately shook his head

“No. I’m okay. You’re all messed up inside and that’s understandable”

“It might be understandable, but that doesn’t make it okay. I love you. I love being with you... I... don’t want to hurt you. I want... to be the kind of boyfriend you’re proud of”

“Babe, you always make me proud. Even on the days you can’t find it in you to like, or even love yourself, I love you. I’m proud to be your boyfriend, and I’m thankful that I’m here with you, to meet your dad. I think he truly would have been proud of you. You’re hot headed and reckless, and you’re still grieving everything, but you’re so strong. You’re a good man. And the man I want to spend every day with for the rest of my life. I want to make you happy. I want to be the one who makes you laugh and smile. I want to shout out to the whole damn world that you’re mine. I wanna have kids and grow old ... older... with you. I wanna be there for the good and the bad and be your family as long as we both shall live”

Keith blushed. Lance shouldn’t be so kind and quick with his praise, his ego was lapping it all up, and he could almost feel it swelling inside of him in the literal sense of the word.

“I’ll never get used to you praising me when I’ve done nothing”

“You don’t have to do anything. You being you is all I could ever want”

Again, what Lance was saying was sounding dangerously close to a proposal. Keith knew he was overthinking things. Lance wanted to date for a while before considering making it all official on paper. He could wait. His ego might not be happy, but their love wasn’t any less without a ring on Lance’s pretty little finger. With his boyfriend’s praise, he could stand before his dad... maybe finally feeling a little less stupid about trying to talk to a grave stone than he had before. Holding Lance’s hand, he shook his head, trying to shake off his earlier stupidity

“Dad, this is Lance. He’s a vampire and I love him. We’re a family... we might not be the perfect family, especially when you think about everything, but he’s perfect to me. He... he’s... really all sorts of amazing. Mum... uh, um... Krolia... I met her again. She’s... weird. But I guess that’s okay... I... um, didn’t have the best life before, but things are better than they’ve ever been. I used to be into photography, but... um... lately I’ve been into Lance. Um... my brother, Shiro... I think you’d like him... he and his partner Curtis are going to come meet you... mum had worked. She’s still with Blade. We didn’t really get along but that’s better now... next time we come, we’ll clean up your grave... I still... can’t believe you’re right in front of me”

Lance let out a hum as Keith mentioned cleaning his dad’s grave. Keith automatically jumping to conclusions, and that conclusion was that Lance was thinking something

“What is it?”

“Huh?”

Scrunching his brow, Lance cocked his head at him

“You hummed...”

“Oh. I was thinking we should ask the council if we’re allowed to put up a little fence and make it look nice”

Where was Lance building this fence? And what did that have to do with his father’s grave?

“You want to build a fence?”

“Not a “fence” fence. But like a little border and we could put in a couple of cacti to give it some colour. I was just thinking it would be nice to show his resting place some love”

You could take the vampire out of the... something witty and to do with handyman antics, but you couldn’t take them out of the vampire

“Babe, you don’t have to do that”

“I want to. I want to make it look nice, so everyone knows he’s loved. And when the twins come, they’ll know it’s their grandfather’s grave and that he would have loved them very much”

“Wait... this is too much”

“Sorry. Sometimes I go off in my own head, which you know. I don’t mean to sound like I’m pressuring you. I mean, it is making an assumption and stuff. I just thought it’d be nice to come back to”

“You... want to come back?”

“He’s your dad. I think I’m going to make it a thing... but only if it’s okay with you”

They’d only just found his father again. This was a bit too much for him right now

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. Sorry, I’m being overbearing. Okay. In the future I think it’d be nice to put something here, but for now we’ll pick up some nice flowers to bring back”

“Yeah. That’d be nice... I don’t even know where to start...”

Lance wanted to track down as much about his father as he could. It still felt kind of weird that Lance cared and wanted him to know about his dad... then again, Mami had filled Lance with so much love that Lance probably couldn’t help himself

“Then we’ll figure things out together. I’m sorry, I’ve got to sit for a bit. Will you be okay with having a few moments alone?”

Keith blinked. Then realised Lance wasn’t simply blushing, he was getting sunburnt...

“Yeah. I... I feel better about talking to him”

“You take your time. I’ll be waiting in the car. Please don’t rush because of me”

“I won’t... I mean, maybe a little”

Lance bumped him with his elbow

“Don’t be mean to your dad. He’s waited all this time. Make sure you have a good talk with him. I mean, how am I supposed to tell Mami I made you fuss too much? She’d kick my arse”

“Yeah. She would. I won’t be too long... because we’re coming back... right?”

“Yeah, babe. We’ll be back so many times he’ll be sick of us. I love you”

“I love you, too”

Lance left him with a kiss on the cheek. Keith needing a few moments to steady himself, before deciding maybe he could start with the easy stuff then work up to the really painful parts of his past. His dad loved him... he loved him and he had so much to tell him.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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path-of-my-childhood · 5 years

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The Rolling Stone Interview: Taylor Swift

By: Brian Hiatt for The Rolling Stone Magazine Date: September 18th 2019

In her most in-depth and introspective interview in years, Swift tells all about the rocky road to 'Lover' and much, much more.

Taylor Swift bursts into her mom’s Nashville kitchen, smiling, looking remarkably like Taylor Swift. (That red-lip, classic thing? Check.) “I need someone to help dye my hair pink,” she says, and moments later, her ends match her sparkly nail polish, sneakers, and the stripes on her button-down. It’s all in keeping with the pastel aesthetic of her new album, Lover; black-leather combat-Taylor from her previous album cycle has handed back the phone. Around the black-granite kitchen island, all is calm and normal, as Swift’s mom, dad, and younger brother pass through. Her mom’s two dogs, one very small, one very large, pounce upon visitors with slurping glee. It could be any 29-year-old’s weekend visit with her parents, if not for the madness looming a few feet down the hall.

In an airy terrace, 113 giddy, weepy, shaky, still-in-disbelief fans are waiting for the start of one of Swift’s secret sessions, sacred rituals in Swift-dom. She’s about to play them her seventh album, as-yet unreleased on this Sunday afternoon in early August, and offer copious commentary. Also, she made cookies. Just before the session, Swift sits down in her mom’s study (where she “operates the Google,” per her daughter) to chat for a few minutes. The black-walled room is decorated with black-and-white classic-rock photos, including shots of Bruce Springsteen and, unsurprisingly, James Taylor; there are also more recent shots of Swift posing with Kris Kristofferson and playing with Def Leppard, her mom’s favorite band.

In a corner is an acoustic guitar Swift played as a teenager. She almost certainly wrote some well-known songs on it, but can’t recall which ones. “It would be kind of weird to finish a song and be like, ‘And this moment, I shall remember,’'” she says, laughing. “‘This guitar hath been anointed with my sacred tuneage!'”

The secret session itself is, as the name suggests, deeply off-the-record; it can be confirmed that she drank some white wine, since her glass pops up in some Instagram pictures. She stays until 5 a.m., chatting and taking photos with every one of the fans. Five hours later, we continue our talk at length in Swift’s Nashville condo, in almost exactly the same spot where we did one of our interviews for her 2012 Rolling Stone cover story. She’s hardly changed its whimsical decor in the past seven years (one of the few additions is a pool table replacing the couch where we sat last time), so it’s an old-Taylor time capsule. There’s still a huge bunny made of moss in one corner, and a human-size birdcage in the living room, though the view from the latter is now of generic new condo buildings instead of just distant green hills. Swift is barefoot now, in pale-blue jeans and a blue button-down tied at the waist; her hair is pulled back, her makeup minimal.

How to sum up the past three years of Taylor Swift? In July 2016, after Swift expressed discontent with Kanye West’s “Famous,” Kim Kardashian did her best to destroy her, unleashing clandestine recordings of a phone conversation between Swift and West. In the piecemeal audio, Swift can be heard agreeing to the line “…me and Taylor might still have sex.” We don’t hear her learning about the next lyric, the one she says bothered her — “I made that bitch famous” — and as she’ll explain, there’s more to her side of the story. The backlash was, well, swift, and overwhelming. It still hasn’t altogether subsided. Later that year, Swift chose not to make an endorsement in the 2016 election, which definitely didn’t help. In the face of it all, she made Reputation — fierce, witty, almost-industrial pop offset by love songs of crystalline beauty — and had a wildly successful stadium tour. Somewhere in there, she met her current boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, and judging by certain songs on Lover, the relationship is serious indeed.

Lover is Swift’s most adult album, a rebalancing of sound and persona that opens doors to the next decade of her career; it’s also a welcome return to the sonic diversity of 2012’s Red, with tracks ranging from the St. Vincent-assisted über-bop “Cruel Summer” to the unbearably poignant country-fied “Soon You’ll Get Better” (with the Dixie Chicks) and the “Shake It Off”-worthy pep of “Paper Rings.”

She wants to talk about the music, of course, but she is also ready to explain the past three years of her life, in depth, for the first time. The conversation is often not a light one. She’s built up more armor in the past few years, but still has the opposite of a poker face — you can see every micro-emotion wash over her as she ponders a question, her nose wrinkling in semi-ironic offense at the term “old-school pop stars,” her preposterously blue eyes glistening as she turns to darker subjects. In her worst moments, she says, “You feel like you’re being completely pulled into a riptide. So what are you going to do? Splash a lot? Or hold your breath and hope you somehow resurface? And that’s what I did. And it took three years. Sitting here doing an interview — the fact that we’ve done an interview before is the only reason I’m not in a full body sweat.”

When we talked seven years ago, everything was going so well for you, and you were very worried that something would go wrong. Yeah, I kind of knew it would. I felt like I was walking along the sidewalk, knowing eventually the pavement was going to crumble and I was gonna fall through. You can’t keep winning and have people like it. People love “new” so much — they raise you up the flagpole, and you’re waving at the top of the flagpole for a while. And then they’re like, “Wait, this new flag is what we actually love.” They decide something you’re doing is incorrect, that you’re not standing for what you should stand for. You’re a bad example. Then if you keep making music and you survive, and you keep connecting with people, eventually they raise you a little bit up the flagpole again, and then they take you back down, and back up again. And it happens to women more than it happens to men in music.

It also happened to you a few times on a smaller scale, didn’t it? I’ve had several upheavals in my career. When I was 18, they were like, “She doesn’t really write those songs.” So my third album I wrote by myself as a reaction to that. Then they decided I was a serial dater — a boy-crazy man-eater — when I was 22. And so I didn’t date anyone for, like, two years. And then they decided in 2016 that absolutely everything about me was wrong. If I did something good, it was for the wrong reasons. If I did something brave, I didn’t do it correctly. If I stood up for myself, I was throwing a tantrum. And so I found myself in this endless mockery echo chamber. It’s just like — I have a brother who’s two and a half years younger, and we spent the first half of our lives trying to kill each other and the second half as best friends. You know that game kids play? I’d be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And Austin would be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And I’m like, “He’s copying me.” And he’d be like, “He’s copying me.” Always in a really obnoxious voice that sounds all twisted. That’s what it felt like in 2016. So I decided to just say nothing. It wasn’t really a decision. It was completely involuntary.

But you also had good things happen in your life at the same time — that’s part of Reputation. The moments of my true story on that album are songs like “Delicate,” “New Year’s Day,” “Call It What You Want,” “Dress.” The one-two punch, bait-and-switch of Reputation is that it was actually a love story. It was a love story in amongst chaos. All the weaponized sort of metallic battle anthems were what was going on outside. That was the battle raging on that I could see from the windows, and then there was what was happening inside my world — my newly quiet, cozy world that was happening on my own terms for the first time. . . . It’s weird, because in some of the worst times of my career, and reputation, dare I say, I had some of the most beautiful times — in my quiet life that I chose to have. And I had some of the most incredible memories with the friends I now knew cared about me, even if everyone hated me. The bad stuff was really significant and damaging. But the good stuff will endure. The good lessons — you realize that you can’t just show your life to people.

Meaning? I used to be like a golden retriever, just walking up to everybody, like, wagging my tail. “Sure, yeah, of course! What do you want to know? What do you need?” Now, I guess, I have to be a little bit more like a fox.

Do your regrets on that extend to the way the “girl squad” thing was perceived? Yeah, I never would have imagined that people would have thought, “This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it.” Holy shit, that hit me like a ton of bricks. I was like, “Oh, this did not go the way that I thought it was going to go.” I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to do. The patriarchy allows men to have bro packs. If you’re a male artist, there’s an understanding that you have respect for your counterparts.

Whereas women are expected to be feuding with each other? It’s assumed that we hate each other. Even if we’re smiling and photographed together with our arms around each other, it’s assumed there’s a knife in our pocket.

How much of a danger was there of falling into that thought pattern yourself? The messaging is dangerous, yes. Nobody is immune, because we’re a product of what society and peer groups and now the internet tells us, unless we learn differently from experience.

You once sang about a star who “took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out.” In 2016, you wrote in your journal, “This summer is the apocalypse.” How close did you come to quitting altogether? I definitely thought about that a lot. I thought about how words are my only way of making sense of the world and expressing myself — and now any words I say or write are being twisted against me. People love a hate frenzy. It’s like piranhas. People had so much fun hating me, and they didn’t really need very many reasons to do it. I felt like the situation was pretty hopeless. I wrote a lot of really aggressively bitter poems constantly. I wrote a lot of think pieces that I knew I’d never publish, about what it’s like to feel like you’re in a shame spiral. And I couldn’t figure out how to learn from it. Because I wasn’t sure exactly what I did that was so wrong. That was really hard for me, because I cannot stand it when people can’t take criticism. So I try to self-examine, and even though that’s really hard and hurts a lot sometimes, I really try to understand where people are coming from when they don’t like me. And I completely get why people wouldn’t like me. Because, you know, I’ve had my insecurities say those things — and things 1,000 times worse.

But some of your former critics have become your friends, right? Some of my best friendships came from people publicly criticizing me and then it opening up a conversation. Hayley Kiyoko was doing an interview and she made an example about how I get away with singing about straight relationships and people don’t give me shit the way they give her shit for singing about girls — and it’s totally valid. Like, Ella — Lorde — the first thing she ever said about me publicly was a criticism of my image or whatever. But I can’t really respond to someone saying, “You, as a human being, are fake.” And if they say you’re playing the victim, that completely undermines your ability to ever verbalize how you feel unless it’s positive. So, OK, should I just smile all the time and never say anything hurts me? Because that’s really fake. Or should I be real about how I’m feeling and have valid, legitimate responses to things that happened to me in my life? But wait, would that be playing the victim?

How do you escape that mental trap? Since I was 15 years old, if people criticized me for something, I changed it. So you realize you might be this amalgamation of criticisms that were hurled at you, and not an actual person who’s made any of these choices themselves. And so I decided I needed to live a quiet life, because a quiet personal life invites no discussion, dissection, and debate. I didn’t realize I was inviting people to feel they had the right to sort of play my life like a video game.

“The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Because she’s dead!” was funny — but how seriously should we take it? There’s a part of me that definitely is always going to be different. I needed to grow up in many ways. I needed to make boundaries, to figure out what was mine and what was the public’s. That old version of me that shares unfailingly and unblinkingly with a world that is probably not fit to be shared with? I think that’s gone. But it was definitely just, like, a fun moment in the studio with me and Jack [Antonoff] where I wanted to play on the idea of a phone call — because that’s how all of this started, a stupid phone call I shouldn’t have picked up.

It would have been much easier if that’s what you’d just said. It would have been so, so great if I would have just said that [laughs].

Some of the Lover iconography does suggest old Taylor’s return, though. I don’t think I’ve ever leaned into the old version of myself more creatively than I have on this album, where it’s very, very autobiographical. But also moments of extreme catchiness and moments of extreme personal confession.

Did you do anything wrong from your perspective in dealing with that phone call? Is there anything you regret? The world didn’t understand the context and the events that led up to it. Because nothing ever just happens like that without some lead-up. Some events took place to cause me to be pissed off when he called me a bitch. That was not just a singular event. Basically, I got really sick of the dynamic between he and I. And that wasn’t just based on what happened on that phone call and with that song — it was kind of a chain reaction of things.

I started to feel like we reconnected, which felt great for me — because all I ever wanted my whole career after that thing happened in 2009 was for him to respect me. When someone doesn’t respect you so loudly and says you literally don’t deserve to be here — I just so badly wanted that respect from him, and I hate that about myself, that I was like, “This guy who’s antagonizing me, I just want his approval.” But that’s where I was. And so we’d go to dinner and stuff. And I was so happy, because he would say really nice things about my music. It just felt like I was healing some childhood rejection or something from when I was 19. But the 2015 VMAs come around. He’s getting the Vanguard Award. He called me up beforehand — I didn’t illegally record it, so I can’t play it for you. But he called me up, maybe a week or so before the event, and we had maybe over an hourlong conversation, and he’s like, “I really, really would like for you to present this Vanguard Award to me, this would mean so much to me,” and went into all the reasons why it means so much, because he can be so sweet. He can be the sweetest. And I was so stoked that he asked me that. And so I wrote this speech up, and then we get to the VMAs and I make this speech and he screams, “MTV got Taylor Swift up here to present me this award for ratings!” [His exact words: “You know how many times they announced Taylor was going to give me the award ’cause it got them more ratings?”] And I’m standing in the audience with my arm around his wife, and this chill ran through my body. I realized he is so two-faced. That he wants to be nice to me behind the scenes, but then he wants to look cool, get up in front of everyone and talk shit. And I was so upset. He wanted me to come talk to him after the event in his dressing room. I wouldn’t go. So then he sent this big, big thing of flowers the next day to apologize. And I was like, “You know what? I really don’t want us to be on bad terms again. So whatever, I’m just going to move past this.” So when he gets on the phone with me, and I was so touched that he would be respectful and, like, tell me about this one line in the song.

The line being “. . . me and Taylor might still have sex”? [Nods] And I was like, “OK, good. We’re back on good terms.” And then when I heard the song, I was like, “I’m done with this. If you want to be on bad terms, let’s be on bad terms, but just be real about it.” And then he literally did the same thing to Drake. He gravely affected the trajectory of Drake’s family and their lives. It’s the same thing. Getting close to you, earning your trust, detonating you. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore because I get worked up, and I don’t want to just talk about negative shit all day, but it’s the same thing. Go watch Drake talk about what happened. [West denied any involvement in Pusha-T’s revelation of Drake’s child and apologized for sending “negative energy” toward Drake.]

When did you get to the place that’s described on the opening track of Lover, “I Forgot That You Existed”? It was sometime on the Reputation tour, which was the most transformative emotional experience of my career. That tour put me in the healthiest, most balanced place I’ve ever been. After that tour, bad stuff can happen to me, but it doesn’t level me anymore. The stuff that happened a couple of months ago with Scott [Borchetta] would have leveled me three years ago and silenced me. I would have been too afraid to speak up. Something about that tour made me disengage from some part of public perception I used to hang my entire identity on, which I now know is incredibly unhealthy.

What was the actual revelation? It’s almost like I feel more clear about the fact that my job is to be an entertainer. It’s not like this massive thing that sometimes my brain makes it into, and sometimes the media makes it into, where we’re all on this battlefield and everyone’s gonna die except one person, who wins. It’s like, “No, do you know what? Katy is going to be legendary. Gaga is going to be legendary. Beyoncé is going to be legendary. Rihanna is going to be legendary. Because the work that they made completely overshadows the myopia of this 24-hour news cycle of clickbait.” And somehow I realized that on tour, as I was looking at people’s faces. We’re just entertaining people, and it’s supposed to be fun.

It’s interesting to look at these albums as a trilogy. 1989 was really a reset button. Oh, in every way. I’ve been very vocal about the fact that that decision was mine and mine alone, and it was definitely met with a lot of resistance. Internally.

After realizing that things were not all smiles with your former label boss, Scott Borchetta, it’s hard not to wonder how much additional conflict there was over things like that. A lot of the best things I ever did creatively were things that I had to really fight — and I mean aggressively fight — to have happen. But, you know, I’m not like him, making crazy, petty accusations about the past. . . . When you have a business relationship with someone for 15 years, there are going to be a lot of ups and a lot of downs. But I truly, legitimately thought he looked at me as the daughter he never had. And so even though we had a lot of really bad times and creative differences, I was going to hang my hat on the good stuff. I wanted to be friends with him. I thought I knew what betrayal felt like, but this stuff that happened with him was a redefinition of betrayal for me, just because it felt like it was family. To go from feeling like you’re being looked at as a daughter to this grotesque feeling of “Oh, I was actually his prized calf that he was fattening up to sell to the slaughterhouse that would pay the most.”

He accused you of declining the Parkland march and Manchester benefit show. Unbelievable. Here’s the thing: Everyone in my team knew if Scooter Braun brings us something, do not bring it to me. The fact that those two are in business together after the things he said about Scooter Braun — it’s really hard to shock me. And this was utterly shocking. These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work. And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of scotch to themselves. Because they pulled one over on me and got this done so sneakily that I didn’t even see it coming. And I couldn’t say anything about it.

In some ways, on a musical level, Lover feels like the most indie-ish of your albums. That’s amazing, thank you. It’s definitely a quirky record. With this album, I felt like I sort of gave myself permission to revisit older themes that I used to write about, maybe look at them with fresh eyes. And to revisit older instruments — older in terms of when I used to use them. Because when I was making 1989, I was so obsessed with it being this concept of Eighties big pop, whether it was Eighties in its production or Eighties in its nature, just having these big choruses — being unapologetically big. And then Reputation, there was a reason why I had it all in lowercase. I felt like it wasn’t unapologetically commercial. It’s weird, because that is the album that took the most amount of explanation, and yet it’s the one I didn’t talk about. In the Reputation secret sessions I kind of had to explain to my fans, “I know we’re doing a new thing here that I’d never done before.” I’d never played with characters before. For a lot of pop stars, that’s a really fun trick, where they’re like, “This is my alter ego.” I had never played with that before. It’s really fun. And it was just so fun to play with on tour — the darkness and the bombast and the bitterness and the love and the ups and the downs of an emotional-turmoil record.

“Daylight” is a beautiful song. It feels like it could have been the title track. It almost was. I thought it might be a little bit too sentimental.

And I guess maybe too on-the-nose. Right, yeah, way too on-the-nose. That’s what I thought, because I was kind of in my head referring to the album as Daylight for a while. But Lover, to me, was a more interesting title, more of an accurate theme in my head, and more elastic as a concept. That’s why “You Need to Calm Down” can make sense within the theme of the album — one of the things it addresses is how certain people are not allowed to live their lives without discrimination just based on who they love.

For the more organic songs on this album, like “Lover” and “Paper Rings,” you said you were imagining a wedding band playing them. How often does that kind of visualization shape a song’s production style? Sometimes I’ll have a strange sort of fantasy of where the songs would be played. And so for songs like “Paper Rings” or “Lover” I was imagining a wedding-reception band, but in the Seventies, so they couldn’t play instruments that wouldn’t have been invented yet. I have all these visuals. For Reputation, it was nighttime cityscape. I didn’t really want any — or very minimal — traditional acoustic instruments. I imagined old warehouse buildings that had been deserted and factory spaces and all this industrial kind of imagery. So I wanted the production to have nothing wooden. There’s no wood floors on that album. Lover is, like, completely just a barn wood floor and some ripped curtains flowing in the breeze, and fields of flowers and, you know, velvet.

How did you come to use high school metaphors to touch on politics with “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”? There are so many influences that go into that particular song. I wrote it a couple of months after midterm elections, and I wanted to take the idea of politics and pick a metaphorical place for that to exist. And so I was thinking about a traditional American high school, where there’s all these kinds of social events that could make someone feel completely alienated. And I think a lot of people in our political landscape are just feeling like we need to huddle up under the bleachers and figure out a plan to make things better.

I feel like your Fall Out Boy fandom might’ve slipped out in that title. I love Fall Out Boy so much. Their songwriting really influenced me, lyrically, maybe more than anyone else. They take a phrase and they twist it. “Loaded God complex/Cock it and pull it”? When I heard that, I was like, “I’m dreaming.”

You sing about “American stories burning before me.” Do you mean the illusions of what America is? It’s about the illusions of what I thought America was before our political landscape took this turn, and that naivete that we used to have about it. And it’s also the idea of people who live in America, who just want to live their lives, make a living, have a family, love who they love, and watching those people lose their rights, or watching those people feel not at home in their home. I have that line “I see the high-fives between the bad guys” because not only are some really racist, horrific undertones now becoming overtones in our political climate, but the people who are representing those concepts and that way of looking at the world are celebrating loudly, and it’s horrific.

You’re in this weird place of being a blond, blue-eyed pop star in this era — to the point where until you endorsed some Democratic candidates, right-wingers, and worse, assumed you were on their side. I don’t think they do anymore. Yeah, that was jarring, and I didn’t hear about that until after it had happened. Because at this point, I, for a very long time, I didn’t have the internet on my phone, and my team and my family were really worried about me because I was not in a good place. And there was a lot of stuff that they just dealt with without telling me about it. Which is the only time that’s ever happened in my career. I’m always in the pilot seat, trying to fly the plane that is my career in exactly the direction I want to take it. But there was a time when I just had to throw my hands up and say, “Guys, I can’t. I can’t do this. I need you to just take over for me and I’m just going to disappear.”

Are you referring to when a white-supremacist site suggested you were on their team? I didn’t even see that, but, like, if that happened, that’s just disgusting. There’s literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It’s repulsive. There should be no place for it. Really, I keep trying to learn as much as I can about politics, and it’s become something I’m now obsessed with, whereas before, I was living in this sort of political ambivalence, because the person I voted for had always won. We were in such an amazing time when Obama was president because foreign nations respected us. We were so excited to have this dignified person in the White House. My first election was voting for him when he made it into office, and then voting to re-elect him. I think a lot of people are like me, where they just didn’t really know that this could happen. But I’m just focused on the 2020 election. I’m really focused on it. I’m really focused on how I can help and not hinder. Because I also don’t want it to backfire again, because I do feel that the celebrity involvement with Hillary’s campaign was used against her in a lot of ways.

You took a lot of heat for not getting involved. Does any part of you regret that you just didn’t say “fuck it” and gotten more specific when you said to vote that November? Totally. Yeah, I regret a lot of things all the time. It’s like a daily ritual.

Were you just convinced that it would backfire? That’s literally what it was. Yeah. It’s a very powerful thing when you legitimately feel like numbers have proven that pretty much everyone hates you. Like, quantifiably. That’s not me being dramatic. And you know that.

There were a lot of people in those stadiums. It’s true. But that was two years later. . . . I do think, as a party, we need to be more of a team. With Republicans, if you’re wearing that red hat, you’re one of them. And if we’re going to do anything to change what’s happening, we need to stick together. We need to stop dissecting why someone’s on our side or if they’re on our side in the right way or if they phrased it correctly. We need to not have the right kind of Democrat and the wrong kind of Democrat. We need to just be like, “You’re a Democrat? Sick. Get in the car. We’re going to the mall.”

Here’s a hard question for you: As a superfan, what did you think of the Game of Thrones finale? Oh, my God. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. So, clinically our brain responds to our favorite show ending the same way we feel when a breakup occurs. I read that. There’s no good way for it to end. No matter what would have happened in that finale, people still would have been really upset because of the fact that it’s over.

I was glad to see you confirm that your line about a “list of names” was a reference to Arya. I like to be influenced by movies and shows and books and stuff. I love to write about a character dynamic. And not all of my life is going to be as kind of complex as these intricate webs of characters on TV shows and movies.

There was a time when it was. That’s amazing.

But is the idea that as your own life becomes less dramatic, you’ll need to pull ideas from other places? I don’t feel like that yet. I think I might feel like that possibly when I have a family. If I have a family. [Pauses] I don’t know why I said that! But that’s what I’ve heard from other artists, that they were very protective of their personal life, so they had to draw inspiration from other things. But again, I don’t know why I said that. Because I don’t know how my life is going to go or what I’m going to do. But right now, I feel like it’s easier for me to write than it ever was.

You don’t talk about your relationship, but you’ll sing about it in wildly revealing detail. What’s the difference for you? Singing about something helps you to express it in a way that feels more accurate. You cannot, no matter what, put words in a quote and have it move someone the same way as if you heard those words with the perfect sonic representation of that feeling... There is that weird conflict in being a confessional songwriter and then also having my life, you know, 10 years ago, be catapulted into this strange pop-culture thing.

I’ve heard you say that people got too interested in which song was about who, which I can understand — at the same time, to be fair, it was a game you played into, wasn’t it? I realized very early on that no matter what, that was going to happen to me regardless. So when you realize the rules of the game you’re playing and how it will affect you, you got to look at the board and make your strategy. But at the same time, writing songs has never been a strategic element of my career. But I’m not scared anymore to say that other things in my career, like how to market an album, are strictly strategic. And I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds — because male artists are allowed to. And so I’m sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business. But, it’s a different part of my brain than I use to write.

You’ve been masterminding your business since you were a teenager. Yeah, but I’ve also tried very hard — and this is one thing I regret — to convince people that I wasn’t the one holding the puppet strings of my marketing existence, or the fact that I sit in a conference room several times a week and come up with these ideas. I felt for a very long time that people don’t want to think of a woman in music who isn’t just a happy, talented accident. We’re all forced to kind of be like, “Aw, shucks, this happened again! We’re still doing well! Aw, that’s so great.” Alex Morgan celebrating scoring a goal at the World Cup and getting shit for it is a perfect example of why we’re not allowed to flaunt or celebrate, or reveal that, like, “Oh, yeah, it was me. I came up with this stuff.” I think it’s really unfair. People love new female artists so much because they’re able to explain that woman’s success. There’s an easy trajectory. Look at the Game of Thrones finale. I specifically really related to Daenerys’ storyline because for me it portrayed that it is a lot easier for a woman to attain power than to maintain it.

I mean, she did murder... It’s a total metaphor! Like, obviously I didn’t want Daenerys to become that kind of character, but in taking away what I chose to take away from it, I thought maybe they’re trying to portray her climbing the ladder to the top was a lot easier than maintaining it, because for me, the times when I felt like I was going insane was when I was trying to maintain my career in the same way that I ascended. It’s easier to get power than to keep it. It’s easier to get acclaim than to keep it. It’s easier to get attention than to keep it.

Well, I guess we should be glad you didn’t have a dragon in 2016... [Fiercely] I told you I don’t like that she did that! But, I mean, watching the show, though, maybe this is a reflection on how we treat women in power, how we are totally going to conspire against them and tear at them until they feel this — this insane shift, where you wonder, like, “What changed?” And I’ve had that happen, like, 60 times in my career where I’m like, “OK, you liked me last year, what changed? I guess I’ll change so I can keep entertaining you guys.”

You once said that your mom could never punish you when you were little because you’d punish yourself. This idea of changing in the face of criticism and needing approval — that’s all part of wanting to be good, right? Whatever that means. But that seems to be a real driving force in your life. Yeah, that’s definitely very perceptive of you. And the question posed to me is, if you kept trying to do good things, but everyone saw those things in a cynical way and assumed them to be done with bad motivation and bad intent, would you still do good things, even though nothing that you did was looked at as good? And the answer is, yes. Criticism that’s constructive is helpful to my character growth. Baseless criticism is stuff I’ve got to toss out now.

That sounds healthy. Is this therapy talking or is this just experience? No, I’ve never been to therapy. I talk to my mom a lot, because my mom is the one who’s seen everything. God, it takes so long to download somebody on the last 29 years of my life, and my mom has seen it all. She knows exactly where I’m coming from. And we talk endlessly. There were times when I used to have really, really, really bad days where we would just be on the phone for hours and hours and hours. I’d write something that I wanted to say, and instead of posting it, I’d just read it to her.

I somehow connect all this to the lyric in “Daylight,” the idea of “so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven” — it’s a different kind of confession. I am really glad you liked that line, because that’s something that does bother me, looking back at life and realizing that no matter what, you screw things up. Sometimes there are people that were in your life and they’re not anymore — and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it. I told the fans last night that sometimes on my bad days, I feel like my life is a pile of crap accumulated of only the bad headlines or the bad things that have happened, or the mistakes I’ve made or clichés or rumors or things that people think about me or have thought for the last 15 years. And that was part of the “Look What You Made Me Do” music video, where I had a pile of literal old selves fighting each other.

But, yeah, that line is indicative of my anxiety about how in life you can’t get everything right. A lot of times you make the wrong call, make the wrong decision. Say the wrong thing. Hurt people, even if you didn’t mean to. You don’t really know how to fix all of that. When it’s, like, 29 years’ worth.

To be Mr. “Rolling Stone” for a second, there’s a Springsteen lyric, “Ain’t no one leaving this world, buddy/Without their shirttail dirty or hands a little bloody.” That’s really good! No one gets through it unscathed. No one gets through in one piece. I think that’s a hard thing for a lot of people to grasp. I know it was hard for me, because I kind of grew up thinking, “If I’m nice, and if I try to do the right thing, you know, maybe I can just, like, ace this whole thing.” And it turns out I can’t.

It’s interesting to look at “I Did Something Bad” in this context. You pointing that out is really interesting because it’s something I’ve had to reconcile within myself in the last couple of years — that sort of “good” complex. Because from the time I was a kid I’d try to be kind, be a good person. Try really hard. But you get walked all over sometimes. And how do you respond to being walked all over? You can’t just sit there and eat your salad and let it happen. “I Did Something Bad” was about doing something that was so against what I would usually do. Katy [Perry] and I were talking about our signs. . . . [Laughs] Of course we were.

That’s the greatest sentence ever. [Laughs] I hate you. We were talking about our signs because we had this really, really long talk when we were reconnecting and stuff. And I remember in the long talk, she was like, “If we had one glass of white wine right now, we’d both be crying.” Because we were drinking tea. We’ve had some really good conversations.

We were talking about how we’ve had miscommunications with people in the past, not even specifically with each other. She’s like, “I’m a Scorpio. Scorpios just strike when they feel threatened.” And I was like, “Well, I’m an archer. We literally stand back, assess the situation, process how we feel about it, raise a bow, pull it back, and fire.” So it’s completely different ways of processing pain, confusion, misconception. And oftentimes I’ve had this delay in feeling something that hurts me and then saying that it hurts me. Do you know what I mean? And so I can understand how people in my life would have been like, “Whoa, I didn’t know that was how you felt.” Because it takes me a second.

If you watch the video of the 2009 VMAs, I literally freeze. I literally stand there. And that is how I handle any discomfort, any pain. I stand there, I freeze. And then five minutes later, I know how I feel. But in the moment, I’m probably overreacting and I should be nice. Then I process it, and in five minutes, if it’s gone, it’s past, and I’m like, “I was overreacting, everything’s fine. I can get through this. I’m glad I didn’t say anything harsh in the moment.” But when it’s actually something bad that happened, and I feel really, really hurt or upset about it, I only know after the fact. Because I’ve tried so hard to squash it: “This probably isn’t what you think.” That’s something I had to work on.

You could end up gaslighting yourself. Yeah, for sure. ’Cause so many situations where if I would have said the first thing that came to my mind, people would have been like, “Whoa!” And maybe I would have been wrong or combative. So a couple of years ago I started working on actually just responding to my emotions in a quicker fashion. And it’s really helped with stuff. It’s helped so much because sometimes you get in arguments. But conflict in the moment is so much better than combat after the fact.

Well, thanks. I do feel like I just did a therapy session. As someone who’s never been to therapy, I can safely say that was the best therapy session.

#uhhhh #just by copying and editing text I see it's gonna be good =)#can't wait...#taylor swift #interview #by taylor #lover era #Rolling Stone magazine #Brian Hiatt

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 19: Unfair Comparison

Part 2

REMINDER! Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words in this part!

Please read Part 1 first

The next few weeks skipped by fairly uneventfully, bar the almost meltdown Mary had when it was revealed to her that she wouldn’t be going back into Bonnie’s class when September rolled around. Frank tried to explain to her that wasn’t how school worked but she was besides herself, declaring she wasn’t going back to school if that was the case, leaving Frank groaning about the possibility of repeat of the scene they had the previous year.

In the end, it was the twins that managed to explain it to her. Steve and his family came over to visit again for 2 weeks in the middle of August and the boys Charlie and Joel spent a lot of time at Fliss and Frank’s for sleepovers, Fliss loved having her nephews to stay. One night when they were all sat in the lounge, Frank overheard Charlie telling Mary all about how he was looking forward to moving into the bigger classroom and learning cool news stuff. He could see the cogs whirring in her head and after that the whole issue seemed to go away. Thank fuck.

Fliss had to laugh though, as one person who was NOT looking forward to the return of the school year was Bonnie. One Thursday night she called Fliss begging her got on a girl’s night out as she needed to blow off some end of holiday blues. Fliss agreed and arranged to meet up with her on Saturday evening. The weekend rolled round fairly quickly and Fliss was in a good mood when she arrived at work, a few lessons to do before she could head home and start getting ready. She was just heading out to the first one when her phone rang. The number was withheld but that wasn’t uncommon as a lot of people called about lessons in such a way.

“Fliss Gallagher…” she answered. No one spoke in response. “Hello?”

Nothing.

With a shrug she cut the call and replaced it back into her pocket, making her way over to the paddock, when the phone went again. She repeated the process and there was still no one talking on the other side.

“You ok?” Joanne looked at her, as Fliss frowned.

“Yeah, I just had 2 silent calls…” Fliss shrugged

“Probably someone ass-dialling”

“Yeah, maybe…” Fliss said, not voicing where her mind had instantly gone, straight to John. She stuck the phone in her pocket once more and strode into the paddock, greeting her client.

There were no more calls that day, which made Fliss comfortable enough that it wasn’t her ex. If it was and he was playing some stupid game he wouldn’t have stopped. So by the time Mary appeared to do her stable chores and ride Monty she was in fairly good spirits. Fliss decided that they were going to do something a little different on Mary’s lesson today, and she placed a few poles on the floor and had Mary walk Monty over them first, then do them in trot. It wasn’t hard for the pony, and he knew his job but it was different for Mary, making her concentrate fully on where she was going. Frank leaned on the paddock fence watching the pair of them as Fliss walked along side Mary, chatting away to her before she stepped back and allowed Mary to try it on her own. The smile on Mary’s face was all Frank needed to see and he nodded to her as she looked over to him, his hand falling to Thor’s head as the dog had jumped up, leaning his paws on the top of the fence.

“Alright buddy?” he asked, scratching his ears as Thor panted in response, giving a sharp bark at Fliss who turned to look at them, grinning.

One the horses were fed they all made their way home and after dinner Fliss grabbed a glass of wine and headed for a shower and then to get ready. 40 minutes or so later she emerged dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white off the shoulder top that had large golden pineapples printed on it and on her feet she wore a pair of gold sandals. To finish the beach-chic look, her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she was wearing a pair of gold hooped earrings along with her Pandora bracelet.

“You look lovely.” Frank smiled at her, and she grinned back. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah…” she nodded “Can we pick Bonnie up on our way?”

“Sure.” Frank nodded, turning to Mary “Come on Stack. We’ll swing by for ice cream on our way home.” “Yesss….” Mary gave him a hi-five as they all headed for the door.

It took them about 15 minutes to get to Bonnie’s and Fliss hopped out of the jeep heading up the steps to the small villa. Frank watched her go, quite happy to appreciate her ass in the shorts she was wearing, and smiled as she turned round, Bonnie following her down the steps.

“Hi…” She greeted Frank who nodded to her as she climbed in the back of the jeep. “Hi Mary.” “Hi Miss Stevenson…” “You can call me Bonnie out of school.” The dark-haired woman chuckled

“I know.” Mary shrugged.

Bonnie hesitated for a moment as Frank and Fliss exchanged a look, the pair of them grinning at Mary’s blasé tone before Frank shook his head

“Mary…” he chastised her gently.

“What?” she looked at him.

“Just…oh, I dunno, whatever.” he mumbled, setting the car going again. Fliss and Bonnie struck up a gentle conversation about where they were going, Frank not particularly listening to be honest. His right hand absentmindedly dropped to Fliss’ bare thigh, his thumb gently rubbing at her skin and she dropped her left hand on top of his, gently intertwining their fingers.

He was almost disappointed when he pulled up outside Rio’s that she had to let go.

“Have a good time.” he said as she leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Will do.” she smiled “See you later Mary.”

“Yeah bye!” Mary said, hopping out of the backseat to take up the vacant front one.

“Ice cream or hot dogs?” Frank looked at her, tearing his eyes away from Fliss as her and Bonnie headed into the bar, already knowing full well what Mary’s answer would be.

“Dur…” she looked at him “I got me a hankering for some Cookies and Cream.” Frank snorted and with a final look at the bar set off towards The Shack.

****

“Did he just…” Fliss looked at Bonnie, her eyes flicking from the young man in front of her to Bonnie, then back again. They’d had a few drinks at Rio’s, then headed up to another bar a few doors down and had wandered over to see what was going on round a pool table, soon finding themselves watching three younger guys as they were racking the balls up, ready to start a game of killer. By this point they’d had a fair amount of beer and shots, so Bonnie, clearly emboldened by alcohol, had cheekily quipped to the boys that Fliss would kick their arses and one of them, a tall guy with floppy sandy hair had responded with an equally cheeky little smirk and invited the “Grandma” to join them.

“Yeah, he so did…”

“Fucking Grandma…” Fliss glared at him, snatching up a pool cue. “I’ll have you know, kid, I’m 34…not that old…” “You got 13 years on me.” he looked at her.

“Experience…” Bonnie nodded sagely “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” “You offering?” the lad looked at Bonnie who burst out laughing

“Sorry, we’re both taken…” “With each other…” Fliss said, causing Bonnie to snort again into her drink “We’re lesbians.” “Awesome!” the guy grinned, looking Fliss up and down before he arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m Joe by the way.” “Oh, I’m Felicia and this is Linda.” Fliss said, this time causing Bonnie to choke on her gin.

“Nice to meet you…now…” Joe clapped his hands and then everyone around the table looked at him as he began to write their names on the blackboard adding 3 lines after each. The game was simple, you took your shot, if you potted you kept a life, if you missed you lost one. The last person standing was the winner.

“Money in and…”

“Oh, hang on…” Fliss looked around “I didn’t know we were competing for money…”

“You chicken?” One of the lads looked at her.

“No, I just…you know what?” She shrugged, pulling a $10 out of her purse. “Fuck it.”

“You can break.” One of the lads said and she shrugged. Taking up position she hit the ball, deliberately hitting the group of colours in the wrong place ensuring she didn’t pot one. The lads all took a turn each and on her next turn she sank a ball into the pocket, then on her next go she missed again, deliberately.

“Ok,ok…” she said, as the guys started to tease her. “You’re all so confident double up…double the money…” “Whatever…” Joe snorted, pulling another $10 note out of his pocket. Bonnie, grinned and started to play along.

“Felicia,…is that…” “Shut up Linda I got this…” She lined up and took another shot, smashing a ball at the top straight into a pocket. The lads all exchanged a look, shrugging and continued, the game. Fliss continued to nail shot after shot and eventually it came down to her and Joe on the last ball.

“So if I manage this…I win?”

“Yeah…” “Ok, top right…” Joe let out a groan as the ball dropped into the pocket. Fliss straightened up, leaning on the cue smirk on her face as she turned to the boys who were all laughing and shaking their heads.

“Here’s a tip…” she said, taking the money “Don’t call people grandma…pleasure doing business boys…”

Bonnie laughed, sliding her phone back into her pocket, as Fliss looped an arm round her shoulders and steered her back to the bar.

“Shots?”

“Yes…” An hour later they were multiple shots down and half way through a crucial game of Fuck, Marry or Kill.

“Ok…” Bonnie looked at Fliss “Fuck, Marry or Kill. All the Chrises…Evans, Hemsworth or Pratt…” “Oh man…” Fliss groaned “I mean…I’d probably kill Pratt. No offence but I couldn’t murder Thor or Cap…I just…no, not possible”

“So…which ones getting the one night treatment and which one is here to stay…”

“If I marry him does that mean I’m fucking him as well?” Bonnie paused “Yeah, I would assume so.”

“Ok, in that case I’d fuck Hemsworth, marry Evans.” Fliss said, shrugging. “Do you not think Frank as a bit of a look of him…in the face?”

“I’ve not thought about it…” Bonnie shrugged, before she grinned “I think you just have a thing for guys from Boston…”

Fliss frowned as Bonnie looked at her, her face dropping. “Shit, Fliss, sorry, I mean Frank…” Fliss couldn’t keep her face straight any longer and she burst out laughing “I know…”

“Bitch!” Bonnie nudged her on the arm and Fliss smirked, picking up another shot.

********

Frank was sprawled on the sofa, channel surfing when he heard his phone go. It was a WhatsApp message from Fliss and he opened it, giving a loud laugh as he saw her holding a shot of tequila, her face screwed up in a huge fake crying gesture.

“Bonnie is making me do shots…”

“Course she is…” he replied “And did Bonnie make you hustle those boys at pool too?” “How do you know about that?” “It’s on Facebook sweetheart, Bonnie uploaded the photo of you winning. Those poor kids stood no chance” “In my defence they called me grandma…cheeky bastards.”

Frank laughed out loud as he could just see her indignant expression. “Well that’s just fucking rude. How much did you sting em for?” “Sixty…we’ve nearly spent it all now!”

“Sixty bucks…” he mumbled to himself with a snort as he tapped his response “That’s my girl.” “Always…” she replied back, with a winking emoji and he smiled again before dropping the phone back on the coffee table as he stood up to go and grab himself another beer. Simon had already called him to say he would pick them up, which was a relief to Frank as he knew he couldn’t drag Mary out of bed at whatever time they were ready to come back, and he also wasn’t one hundred percent happy about her cabbing back alone. Stupid, he knew that, she was a grown ass woman but still. Thankfully, Simon had been on the same wavelength. With a fresh beer in his hand, he flopped back onto the sofa and resumed his channel hopping, grinning when he found that American Pie was just starting on one of the movie channels. Tossing the remote down he settled back against the cushions to watch the film, Thor jumping up besides him, his head resting against Frank’s thigh.

He had seen this film countless times, but it still reduced him to tears, and Fliss for that matter. He watched, laughing along and the end credits had just started to roll when his phone buzzed again.

“On my way to collect the girls and just a warning, Bonnie sounds smashed. Fuck knows what state they’re in” With a snort he replied “I didn’t expect anything else. Thanks Si.” He stood up and threw his empty beer bottle into the recycling, debating whether or not he wanted another. Deciding he would leave it he started to clear away the remnants of the nachos and popcorn he’d been munching on, gently re-arranged the damned scatter cushions that Fliss had made him buy, which he grudgingly had to admit were actually pretty comfy and then grabbed the recycling box and headed out to toss it into the containers, Thor hot on his heels. Just as he had finished he looked up to see Simon’s Audi pulling up at the road and he made his way over.

“Hiiiii!” Fliss grinned at him as she got out, Thor stopping by her legs and she gave him a quick pet.

“Hey…you have a good time?” Frank asked, as she gave a giggle and nodded.

“Bonnie’s fallen asleep. She can’t handle her alcohol.” she snorted and Frank looked round her to see that Bonnie was, indeed, passed out in the passenger seat.

He shook his head and leaned down to speak to Simon “Thanks pal…”

“No problem.” Simon smiled, before he cast a look at Bonnie and then back to Frank “She said she was tired, not drunk…” “And I’m the Queen of England…” Frank snorted as Simon let out a huff of a laugh. “Good luck with that…”

“Well hello your majesty…” Fliss hiccupped and Frank looked at her, grinning as she winked at him, her eyes glazed.

Simon shook his head and Frank rapped the top of his car twice as he pulled off and headed back up the road.

“Frankie…” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder.

“Yes baby girl?” “I’m hungry.” “Are you gonna stay awake long enough if I throw a pizza in the oven?” “Hey, I’m not like Bonnie, I can handle my tequila…” “Yeah, you say that now.” he grinned “Bet you won’t be tomorrow.”

“It’s Sunday…I can die on the sofa.” she shrugged, heading up the steps into the house. “But now I really need food.” Frank snorted, “Ok, I’ll throw one in. Go get changed.”

“Can you undo the button at the back of my top?” Fliss asked, spinning around. Frank obliged, gently sliding the silver pin shaped tab through the hole at the back of the collar, his hands gently rubbing her bare shoulders as she dropped a kiss to her neck. “Hey, Bonnie made a good point before…” she spun back to face him, he hands smoothing over his chest.

“And what was that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Both of us, as in me and her…have seen you naked…” she grinned, arms connecting round the back of his neck.

“Jesus Christ…”he groaned, his hands falling to her hips.

“And you’ve seen both of us naked…but we’ve never seen each other naked…” Frank looked at her for a moment, “What?” “Me and Bonnie I mean… don’t you think that’s unfair.”

Frank looked at her for a moment, stumped for words before he gave a snort of laughter at her face. She was grinning wickedly at him, mischief shining out of her eyes. “Yeah.” he nodded, seriously, fighting to keep his face straight. “Really unfair. In fact, I think it’s so unfair you should do something about it.” “You’re a pervert.” she narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed and shrugged.

“You started it…” “Technically you did when you fucked her.”

“Ouch…” Frank raised an eyebrow at her as she smirked up at him “Low blow sweetheart”

“I’ll give you a low blow later…”she winked and Frank’s eyebrow arched further up as she pulled his head down to kiss him softly “But first I need proper food…” “Well let go o’me and I’ll make you that pizza.” he reasoned.

With a final smile she kissed him again “Love you sailor.”

“Back at ya cowgirl.” he grinned, watching as she made her way to the bedroom, reasonably steadily as well all things considered, Thor padding along behind her. With a final snort and shake of his head, knowing full well she was going to be hungover to shit the next day, he turned and headed back towards the kitchen to make her something to eat.

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted fan fic #gifted

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