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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

When you kiss me, you speak to my soul

Summary:

5 times when Loki receives an unexpected kiss and once when he gives one. (or more)

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This story inaugurates a new series.

"Together, for all time, always"

This series is my way out in case our boys don't canonically have a happy ending.Background: After the events of the TV show, all the members of the TVA are aware of their status as variants and decide to work together on a better TVA. The main team is composed of Loki, Mobius, Sylvie and Miss Minute. The rest will come as time goes by. The stories do not necessarily follow each other.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203465

3123 words - Rating G

"Okay Loki! You know that in order to get your time travel pass, you have to prove that you know the rules perfectly."

Loki, annoyed, rolled his eyes and sighed,

"Honestly, I'm a rehabilitated variant, god of mischief, who saved the TVA from its slavery, that pass should be granted to me without going through any fucking tests!"

Miss Minutes jumped in front of Loki and pointed her little finger in the direction of Loki's nose, "Ttttt a god don't swear! And when the new TVA administration, of which you are a part, put the rules in place, you all decided to start over. With a new, admittedly less rigid, but still regulated basis that you signed up! Come on, only two more points to validate!"

Loki grumbled, itching to send the little clock flying.

Unperturbed, Miss Minutes continued, "Tell me the basic rules of time travel? "

Loki began to recite in a bored tone, "Do not interact with yourself, do not interact with your ancestors, do not interact with historical figures. Don't interact with the big events in history even if it means not being able to save everyone. Pay attention to small details and use your time wisely.

"Perfect my little Loki!"

"Hey, a little respect Miss Mimi!"

The little clock coughed and Loki noticed a slight flush on her little cheeks.

"Well, then explain to me the three major paradoxes of time travel."

Loki, keeping the same jaded look on his face, recited again, "The Grandfather Paradox, if you go back in time to kill your grandfather, you effectively kill your father, and therefore yourself. The Predestination Paradox is simply when your past self is the very cause of your need to travel back in time. This creates an endless loop of travel, which is why it is also called a closed causal loop. Finally, the Bootstrap Paradox. It occurs when something is returned, often to the traveler himself, negating the need for its creation in the first place."

The little clock jumped all over Loki's desk, clapping!

"Yay my little Loki! You'll be allowed to get your pass validated!"

Loki, happy but irritated by the little machine, asked him, "So that means I don't need your lessons anymore, right?"

"Absolutely!"

Loki rubbed his hands together as he said, "Perfect."

He began to move his hand, thinking of a spell to cast on the annoying little clock.

A voice whispered in his ear, "Loki... what did we say about spelling those weaker than ourselves?"

Loki turned to Mobius with a pout, "but Mobiuuus, just a little spell!"

Mobius bent down and took the hand with which Loki was about to cast his spell.

He said softly, "These hands do such beautiful magic, it would be such a shame to make them cast second rate spells."

He laid a gentle kiss to the back of Loki's hand and then walked away with a quiet step.

Loki, slightly surprised, touched lightly with his other hand the place where Mobius' lips had lingered.

Then he got up quickly, knocked over his chair and ran behind him.

Miss Minute, who had witnessed the scene, raised her eyes to the sky and returned to her screen.

Mobius was waiting outside the elevator.

"Mobius!"

Mobius turned around, Loki was coming towards him with a quick step. He looked at his watch and said with a slightly reproachful tone, "You'll really have to learn to be on time!"

Loki, with a cheeky grin on his face, replied, "I find I'm making progress, yesterday I was 13 minutes late and today only 11."

Mobius rolled his eyes and was about to answer him when they were interrupted by the voiceover from the elevator.

"The elevator is momentarily out of order, please use the service stairs."

Mobius walked to the door next to the elevator and held it open, waving his hand towards Loki.

"After you."

Loki walked past him and began to descend the stairs.

Almost arriving at the bottom, Mobius, on Loki's heels, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face him.

"What's wrong?" Loki asked him, surprised.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine," Mobius replied softly before taking his face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him.

A few moments later, they separated to catch their breath.

Loki gasped slightly, asking Mobius, "I'm not complaining, but what was that for?"

As they finished descending the stairs Mobius replied, "It was the perfect opportunity to reverse the roles, for once I was the one who had to bend over to kiss you."

Loki was still smiling as they walked through the door.

As they passed by the elevator, the door opened to reveal the other members of their team.

"Huh? Is the elevator fixed yet? We took the stairs because they reported that the elevator was momentarily out of order, like... three minutes ago."

"What? But we got on it three minutes ago, four floors higher than you."

Loki looked back at Mobius with a little doubt.

Mobius replied, "Just because you're the god of mischief, doesn't mean you're the only one who can use it."

"Argh, for crying out loud, dates, more dates, always dates!!!"

Loki rubbed his eyes trying to fight the fatigue that was overtaking him.

He stood up, took a few steps to stretch his legs before returning to his seat and continuing to flip through his files.

"Need a helping hand?"

Mobius put his hand on Loki's shoulder and gently squeezed it before sitting down across from him without waiting for an answer.

He continued, "I know this isn't your favorite part of the job, Loki, but it's part of it and I'm glad to see that despite your reluctance, you're not afraid to pitch in.

Loki grunted, "I just don't think it's fair, Sylvie never has to do this kind of work. She's always out there."

"Have you been traveling through time, through all kinds of apocalypses like her for that long?"

"Hmph!Always the voice of wisdom huh?"

Mobius snickered, "Me? No, of course not, but the wiser of the two of us, that I am."

"You prick!" muttered Loki.

"Hey, I heard that!"

They both immersed themselves in the files.

After two hours, Mobius saw Loki get up.

"I'm going to stretch my legs for two minutes."

"Okay."

Five minutes later he saw a small bowl of salad appear in front of his eyes.

Loki said to him as he sat down, "to make up for my bad mood of earlier."

Mobius put his hand on Loki's forearm, "Loki, there is nothing to forgive. You are allowed to have mood swings. I'm not asking you to be someone else. But thank you for the consideration."

He ate the salad Loki had brought him while the god got back to work.

A little later, he was disturbed in his research by a light snore, he looked up at the familiar sight of Loki asleep, his head on his crossed arms.

He had a fond smile. He knew that this kind of work must seem tedious to someone like Loki and yet, even though he grumbled and acted like a drama queen on a regular basis, it didn't stop him from working seriously.

Looking at the time, he thought they had worked enough for today.

He stood up and whispered in his partner's ear, "Loki, wake up. It's late. We're done for the day."

As Loki slowly opened his eyes, Mobius placed a kiss on the top of his head before getting up and going to put the files away.

Loki straightened up and was stretching again when Mobius returned.

"Was I dreaming or did you kiss me on the head?"

"Unfortunately my sleeping beauty's lips weren't accessible so I had to settle for kissing the top of her head to get her to wake up."

Mobius winked at her and headed for the door.

He turned and said again, "Are we going home?"

Loki, who still hadn't gotten used to the warmth these few words provoked in him, quickened his pace to join him.

When Mobius arrived at the cafeteria, he saw Loki concentrating at the dessert counter.

He joined him, placing his hand on his lower back to signal his presence.

"You look completely absorbed in the contemplation of these desserts. Do you have a favorite?"

Loki turned his head toward him and grumbled, "There's always so much to choose from. And every time there's a new kind. I don't even know what to choose. In Asgard there was fruit and... fruit."

Mobius was amused every time Loki was faced with this kind of problem. He made it an insurmountable challenge. This time, Mobius offered to help him.

"If you want we'll take several and share."

Loki nodded, " You choose, because I don't know what to take."

"Okay, go sit down, I'll pick and join you."

Mobius took a sample of several desserts, located the table Loki was sitting at and joined him.

They spent the next hour sharing the dessert plate. It was just the two of them left in the cafeteria. Loki was finishing the tiramisu while Mobius was bringing a last spoonful of chocolate mousse to his mouth.

"So, have you made your choice? What's your favorite?"

Loki licked his lips and replied, "Undoubtedly the tiramisu."

He put his spoon down and asked Mobius, "What about you?"

Mobius, who was sitting next to him, moved closer and looking at Loki's lips, murmured softly, "I'm hesitating between the chocolate mousse and the tiramisu."

He closed the distance between them and placed his lips on Loki's. Loki parted his lips and let Mobius explore his mouth with his skilled tongue. Mobius finished the fierce kiss with a light bite on Loki's lower lip, soothing him with a final lick. Then he moved back.

"I think in the end, tiramisu is my favorite."

They had just returned from the mission and were in the locker room.

Loki was putting his things away in his locker. As always after a successful mission, he was so excited that he was talking non-stop.

Replaying the events in detail, and because he was Loki, he didn't hesitate to emphasize the moments when he and Mobius had been particularly good.

The rest of the team was used to it and listened with one ear.

Mobius smiled fondly.

Continuing to babble, Loki followed the rest of the team for the post-mission debriefing.

As he walked out the door, he felt himself being pulled back. Then a hand reached into his hair and pulled out the tie that held it together.

He looked back at Mobius who was putting the rubber band in his pocket.

"Mobius?"

Mobius walked over to him.

"Why did you do that?"

Mobius replied with a mischievous smile, "Because when you have your hair tied back, I can't do that."

He raised his hand, and pushed behind Loki's ear the strands of hair that fell over Loki's face, letting his hand linger on the god's neck.

" Neither this."

With his hand on the back of Loki's neck, he ran his fingers through Loki's hair to comb it before gently grabbing it and pulling his head back slightly.

Having cleared with this gesture the throat of Loki, he deposited a rain of butterfly kisses.

Loki sighed, his lips parted, "Mobius..."

Mobius moved back again leaving his hand in Loki's hair.

"Nor this."

He raised his second hand and joined it with the first on the back of Loki's neck, tangling his fingers in the long black strands before pressing gently, forcing the god to tilt his head forward. Their lips were so close that each could feel the other's breath. Mobius pressed his lips to Loki's, his fingers clutching his hair as the god's hands found his waist.

Their kiss was long and slow, and when Mobius pulled back, nipping at Loki's bottom lip, He saw that his eyes were clouded and his mouth wide open.

"That's exactly why I like you better with your hair loose."

With a smile, he kissed Loki briefly on the cheek and headed for the locker room door, the bouncy step of one who has just won a victory, oblivious to Loki's hungry stare.

Loki had had enough.

Mobius obviously enjoyed starting fires with Loki and never extinguished them.

Loki was on edge.

Not that Loki didn't appreciate Mobius' spontaneous displays of affection and kisses, the man was extremely inventive and talented, but he felt like a ball of clay in his hands.

His pride as a god of mischief was at stake!

He had to regain the upper hand, just a little, just a few moments.

"Hoho miss Minutes, looks like someone needs to get laid!"

"Hey Syl! I'm just a pure little watch. I don't want to know anything about your sex lives!"

Sylvie sitting with her feet up on Loki's desk fluttered a paper cutter in the air and snickered back, " Which sex life Mimi?"

The watch returned to the screen and grumbled, "Never mind, Loki and Mobius's love life is none of my business! Hmph!"

Loki with his hands on his hips and a dark look in his eyes, muttered to Sylvie, "Don't you have a job to do instead of gossiping with that piece of junk clock?"

"Hey jerk! I heard you!" Shouted the little voice from the monitor.

"It's so much more interesting to watch you mope about your mustachioed prince."

Loki slumped into the other chair, a sulky look on his face.

"It's not so bad though?" asked Sylvie, studying him, her chin on her hand.

Loki told her everything, from the kiss on his hand to the fiery kiss in the locker room.

"And you dare to complain?!" Sylvie asked him, quite irritated, "You have a man who is completely devoted to you, and full of attention for you. Do you realize how lucky you are?"

"Wait, Syl! It's not that I don't like it. On the contrary, but... argh" Loki tugged at his hair, "I don't know how to say it, before, the Loki before the TVA, I've always been a hedonist who enjoys the pleasures of life, who takes and throws, but now, even though I'm still a hedonist, I don't just want to consume anymore, I want to give too. And right now I feel like I'm the only one receiving."

"Aw, you're cute you know."

"Hey! Don't make fun of me!"

"But no, well just a little bit, but really Loki, the fact that you're thinking about this, shows how much you've evolved right? Have you even tried talking to Mobius about it?"

Loki shook his head, "You know me, I often talk a lot to mask my insecurities and also because I like to listen to myself talk, but anyway what I mean is that when it's serious I'm unable to express myself properly."

"And show him?"

"How?"

Sylvie rolled her eyes, "Loki, are you the god of mischief or not? You are capable of seducing anyone! Don't embarrass me!"

A few moments later, alone in his office, he thought back to this discussion.

How could he surprise Mobius?

Mobius who knew how to read all his tricks...

Of course! The answer was obvious!

What better way than a direct approach!

He waited for the right moment and went to Mobius' office, sure to find him there.

As he walked through the door, Mobius looked up, a smile blooming on his face as he saw Loki.

"Loki!" He wanted to stand up, Loki stopped him by waving his hand. With one hand he locked the office door and with the other, using a flick of his wrist, he turned Mobius's chair around before walking towards him.

Then, without warning his lover, he straddled Mobius' lap and framed his face with his hands before throwing himself on Mobius' mouth.

Mobius pushed him back slightly and managed to articulate, panting, "Wait, wait, wait Loki! What's the matter with you? Not that I'm against it, but I'm surprised, pleasantly surprised, that you'd take the initiative like this."

Loki with his forehead and lips against Mobius' replied, equally breathless, "The problem is that my lover has been teasing me all week, kissing me everywhere and at any time, and hasn't given me a chance to return the favor, so now you shut up and let me kiss you! It's my turn!"

As Loki resumed the interrupted kiss, Mobius decided, with the last fragment of coherent thought he possessed, that all he had to do was enjoy it. He just ran his hands over Loki's hips pressing him closer until there was no more space between them.

He tried to control the kiss, but Loki would not let him, and finally, after a brief struggle, he gave in to the kiss and the shivers of pleasure that ran down his spine.

He believed to be out of air when Loki moved back slightly and fixed him, the eyes shining with satisfaction, licking his lips like a cat which had just devoured a pot of cream.

They slowly caught their breath and Mobius couldn't help but gently tuck a lock of Loki's hair back behind his ear in a gesture that was becoming more and more familiar.

Loki leaned into Mobius' hand.

"Hey Loki, more seriously," Mobius told him softly, "does it bother you that I'm acting like this? Because you know you can tell me."

Loki sighed, "It doesn't bother me per se, it's just the lack of reciprocity, the fact that I'm receiving a lot and giving nothing."

Mobius shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart," he couldn't help but notice that Loki seemed to appreciate the endearment, "that's not how it works. When you kissed me just now, did you feel pleasure?"

Loki, indignant, protested, "Yes, of course I-"

Mobius put a finger to his lips.

"It's the same for me, you know. I am aware that in your head the gears are spinning wildly non stop, but in such cases, don't think. Just enjoy it, there's nothing selfish about it."

Loki nodded, then passionately kissed his lover once more, until they were both out of breath again.

Then Loki traced a path of kisses from Mobius' chin to his ear and nibbled on his lobe before whispering, his breath making Mobius shudder, "The rest is for later my love..."

He stood up and headed for the door while swaying his hips, fully aware of the gaze that followed him.

Then before he walked through the door, he threw over his shoulder, with a mischievous smile, "I too can light a fire and make you burn for me."

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Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

#loki #lokius fic #lokius #moki #wowki #loki x mobius #loki laufeyson #mobius m mobius #miss minutes #sylvie laufeydottir #established relationship #5+1 things

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runnyeggsnham · 3 years

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"because this is real, and the debate is real, and the opening up to care is real."

Oh, Runny, I am back with another anon ask because your metas are chocolate for my brain.

This line of yours here "this is real", do you know what this harkens back to? Loki's conversation with Sylvie on the train about "a would-be princess or would-be prince". The kind of conversation Loki had with Mobius is the foundation of a fun and deep friendship, which honestly is where romantic relationships should begin.

I love the way Tom and Owen played this scene. They were talking about jetskis but also /weren't/ exactly. The subtext was "what in life is worth fighting for?" and buttoned-up Mobius picks an object that represents fun and pleasure, freedom and recklessness--things a God of Mischief (or a D. B. Cooper) should be all about.

And what does Loki do later? He takes Mobius to Pompeii, where Loki demonstrates all these things with glee. When they return to the TVA, whatever joyful emotions Loki has just rubbed off on him. Mobius is giggly and excited. Like his work was given a fresh breath of air.

I honestly wish we had a few more episodes like #2 before the Roxxcart separation. I got the sense that intelligent/deeply personal conversations were hard for Loki to come by in a warrior society like Asgard. AND, something important, Loki took from this conversation Mobius's value of order, to protect others for the greater good even at expense of your own personal wants or impulses. Loki tells Sylvie, "This is bigger than us." How did Loki arrive here? It's not an accident.

You're also right: Loki takes all the kindness and wisdom he learned from Mobius and mirrors it back to Sylvie. But Sylvie hasn't had a low point like Loki has, so she wasn't ready to receive his love. Despite that, Loki loved Sylvie because he saw elements of himself in her and qualities unique to her he wished he had. In a way, he is like Mobius with Sylvie: I don't doubt Loki has qualities Mobius wish he had, too.

The difference is Mobius possesses a healthy amount of trust in Loki and Loki knows this. Which makes Loki searching for Mobius in all the spots they've spent time in that much richer. Every conversation they had in the cafeteria or the library had a great deal of trust. And the library... Loki slept there. Mobius complimented Loki there. They had a breakthrough together there. And let's not forget Mobius went there because a part of him trusted Loki more than Ravonna.

Aghghgh you're too kind, thank you so so much 🤗 I love talking like this about them, it's been a delight!

Yes, you're absolutely right about the train! I wasn't thinking that specifically when rambling but yes, definitely. The theme of what's "real" or not recurs constantly for Loki inside and outside the show and it's so integral to his growth, the incidents of it can't be viewed independently. And when you add them all up, imo, a lot of it just go right back to his time and connection with Mobius... Honestly, I cannot stop thinking about how Tom said several times that Loki and Mobius' friendship is "real" in that tomblr q&a. There's just...no other way to succinctly describe them, episode 2 onward.

In that scene, their relationship really crosses that line into real and mutual care--and "deep", too, I love that word, very apt! Loki reaches and Mobius also drops the barriers to meet him as an equal and a friend, not a superior. They're both taking a chance. (And I agree with your romance comment too, and how much trust they have. It's great that we the audience get to see it build up.) Which yeah, Tom and Owen played it perfectly! I mean, before the Pompeii sequence, Mobius couldn't have been so self-revealing to Loki without there being a high possibility of being hurt. I think the tie scene is a great example of this: Loki is trying to manipulate him, and Mobius is obviously affected by the closeness but he quite literally bites it back, because it's annoying that it's not real and he mustn't give any cracks for Loki to chip away at.

That Pompeii sequence really is just peak Lokius though! Mobius trying to maintain order, but gosh he's loving it, and Loki leaning into his mischievous side in a completely harmless and giddy way! "Like his work was given a fresh breath of air" I love that so much, it's so true. Loki's good-natured mischief just draws out Mobius' own, gives him the space for as much personal enjoyment as he's willing to take. Their whispering at the top is absolutely adorable, the way Mobius mimes the explosion with his hands and they're jittery on their feet, and it just immediately reveals so much about Mobius, love it!

It's these lines too, they're perfect: "Imagine, all that volcanic ash!" "I know, but we don't want to get too giddy." "Oh come on. It's cool!" "No, it is cool, it's just- it's just not in good taste."

We get these little glimpses like here, and end of episode 4 when they mend their relationship, and even episode 5 I'd argue, of how in sync they can be. And so easily. They bring out such good facets of each other, and temper the others. It looks very natural. I wish we got more of these types of episodes, too, it was so wonderful to see Loki relaxed! I think that's an apt observation of Asgard, too, and just goes back to his closeness with Frigga, and makes another parallel between Mobius and Frigga's understanding of Loki.

You know, that's a great point--"Loki took from this conversation Mobius's value of order"--and adds so well to how Loki, when they're at different impasses in the convo later, concedes with lines like "fair enough; you believe it's real" and pivots, his questions prompting Mobius to think about the TVA and explain this or that. It's a completely mutual back-and-forth rapport. And again, I think your point is so right; that would be the moment if there is any one where Loki took in that perspective, wouldn't it be?

Also, Mobius doesn't seem like he has any idea there how unique his instincts are within the TVA, does he? I think it's important that this is before that bit at Roxxcart, where he intercedes with that other Hunter's aggressiveness -- "they're about to die, they should be scared." "hey, not of us."

He operates from like a guardian perspective with compassion and a greater good "the ends justify the means" ideal, and believes that everyone else there is too, and it's so interesting how Loki catches onto that and tries to get Mobius to distinguish himself from the TVA. It's that line "in a way, you and I here at the TVA, we're the only ones who are actually free" that just...kills me.

With Loki taking that value of order from Mobius, it just makes how Mobius took the value of freedom from Loki here that much more beautiful. I'm so glad you pointed that out! For Mobius, it's that part, where Loki takes out the hyperbole of the TVA's party line and reduces it to: if everything's written, no one has free will. And Mobius struggles with that and is like "well, that's- that's an over-simplification." That bothers him. And he's definitely thinking of it later, when Loki makes him question everything with the variant reveal; how could he not?

With regards to Sylvie, I think the low point idea is accurate, too. May I further add: I don't think Sylvie has had a low point, before the finale, that was from the consequence of her own bad choice. It goes to that elevator scene, when she asks what her nexus event was, and Ravonna says she doesn't know. That devastates Sylvie. Her 3 lowest points, that we see, are 1) when she's first abducted to the TVA, 2) when the Time Keepers are revealed fake, and 3) when her first ally is pruned in front of her. In all these points, she's stuck in a position of reacting. Her entire life is that pattern, her running and reacting and surviving with this plan that takes ages to execute, in the hopes of finally getting vengeance, finally being on the offensive.

So, it does make sense that she sees Loki not wanting to kill Kang as another moment of the rug being torn out from underneath her. She can't trust him because she can't trust anyone not be taken from her, betray her, or at least follow their own agenda first. Sylvie's been driven by her mission for so long and been deprived of the catharsis of...freedom, I think is the best word. So yeah she wasn't ready to receive that love and imo a lot of that's because it's unfathomable to her, the pressure inside of her to defeat whatever Big Bad disrupted her entire life has built up too strongly for too long inside of her. She just couldn't let that go, couldn't compromise with love.

That's why-- there's a comment that went around, I think it was the director? Who said Sylvie's story probably wouldn't return, and I wouldn't be surprised. I love the complexity of her character and her being gone makes me really sad, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut that they wrote an intentionally finite tragic arc, with the way that last fight between her and Loki went. She got a chance to make a different choice, multiples times, and rejected it. I tried to find the trope for this, I think I've seen it before, but here's a close one: Last-Second Ending Choice. She could've changed course right there and started fresh-ish, despite everything she had done before, but she was too consumed by her path, so she didn't. But here’s hoping she does return!

Sorry, that was a really long answer that got away from me at times, I hope you don't mind 😅

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sylvies-chen · 3 years

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Prompt 50 for Brettsey 😍

Thank you for writing, love your stories!!

Thank you, anon! Doing these prompt requests certainly gives me something to do to fill the time so it's my pleasure!

50. "Be you. No one else can."

There are stages in a relationship that everyone goes through.

First date, first time, first weekend away. It's all a series of slow developments that occur as things get more serious. Only Matt's finally reached the "meeting the parents" stage with Sylvie. Her parents aren't in town right now but she'd asked one day about his family and he didn't know what to say. After all, how can you introduce your girlfriend to your parents if-- each in their own way-- they aren't even around?

So, he introduces her to the next best thing: his sister Christie.

His sister's thrilled about it. She hasn't met any of Matt's girlfriends since Gabby so her interest is instantly peaked. Matt doesn't deny that things between himself and Sylvie are serious; he doesn't want to deny it. It's a statement that excites Christie. Christie invites both of them over for dinner pretty soon after that. Matt's thrilled for it too, if he's being honest-- he loves Sylvie so introducing her to Christie makes him happy, of course-- but the prospect of meeting someone important to him is enough to make Sylvie herself panic a little.

They're in the locker room after a long shift, Matt waiting for Sylvie to grab her things as they prepare to go meet Christie for dinner, and her stress is especially noticeable.

"I feel like I should bring something," she tells him, frantically shoving things in her bag. "Should I bring something? Maybe I could make a dessert or something."

"Christie's got dinner covered," he replies. "She said just to bring yourself and a bottle of wine, which we can pick up on the way there."

"Ugh," she sighs, raking her hands through her hair. "I don't know why I'm so stressed about this. I just want to make a good impression, is that silly?"

"Not at all," Matt assures her. "Dinner will go great tonight, I promise."

"Right, ok," she nods, her nerves dissipating slightly. She lets out an amused chuckle, which Matt thinks is a good sign. "Any last minute words of wisdom?"

"You don't need any tips," he reassures her again, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Be you. No one else can."

"You always seem to know exactly the right thing to say, you know that?" She bites her lip and looks at him lovingly, her shoulders finally relaxing. He takes that as a win.

"I do my best," he replies. She leans in and kisses him soundly, lingering in it for a moment before opening her eyes and putting a hand on his chest.

"But you know I'm still going to bake something for her, right?"

Matt gives a hearty chuckle; he feels it echo in his chest. "You're hopeless."

"Hey, you'll be thanking me later when you try my lemon puff pastry knots, I'm telling you," she warns teasingly, pointing her index finger.

Shit. That really does sound delicious. "On second thought, maybe I wouldn't be against having something to bring," he replies, feigning a casual tone.

It gets a giggle out of Sylvie, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders as they move to leave the firehouse. He keeps leaning over to press kisses to her head the entire time they walk to his truck, getting a mouthful of hair every few kisses but not caring.

Maybe he doesn't exactly have a traditional family, or parents to introduce her to. But he gives her one last kiss, this time on the lips, before hopping in the truck. It makes him think Sylvie, along with Christie and Violet, are about the only family he'll ever really need.

#this one's actually not so long everyone be proud of me #abby writes #fanfic prompts #sylvie brett #matt casey

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screaming-towards-apotheosis · 2 years

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hi! so i just finished rereading Nine minutes (27 seconds) and i really can't get enough. it seemed like you'd put some thought into the worldbuilding are there any other details you'd be willing to share??

Ahhh, thank you!!! ❤❤❤ the world building in that one was the kind where I'd write an off hand comment and then extrapolate from that, editing as I went along rather than otting out the setting before I started to write, so I am so glad it has worked for you!

Claude has the nagging *is this because I am a sub* thought in his head about a lot of things, even though they happened in our reality as well, because that's how it is under the domniarchy. Subs in the show aren't a *new* thing, but we all know how glacial the nhl is about change so...

In Juniors, Claude's experience would have been with the staff managing all the players' dynamic needs in a nonsexual manner because you can't let a bunch of hormonal inexperienced idiots fuck each other up, that's bad for their development.

The same "don't let them fuck each other up" ethos carries over to the AHL because its a development league, too, and the players are very much team assets - but because they are supposedly all grown ups, things are a lot looser, a lot more dynamics happening between players but management makes sure the best prospects are, well, managed.

A lot of this was hashed out while talking to my partner, who was invaluable for this fic:

"They're still supposed to be developing, can't break them in too soon.

Ofc not all of them will make the jump to the show, but the ones who are likely to, can't fuck em up too early and waste that potential

But in the big club, where they're curating the roster and cultivating the room dynamics for peak performance?

Damn right, the high-value, high-producing guys get droit de seigneur. "

And of course locker room dynamics are Totally Fine and Not Cheating and all the SADs totally Get That, and Sylvie is Just Being Unreasonable About Everything which, no, Daniel, she is not, she is just tired of your General Bullshit and Other Fuckery. (They just had a bad case of Rushing Into A Relationships While Young, Accidental Kids, and High Stress Career On Top which implodes but Danny is being an uncharitable jackass and acting like a dickbag and tbh, I see him as having a history of being a pushy jerk because when he was young, he got a lot of shit for being small and pretty and *are you sure you'd not a sub* and harrassment and hazing in the guise of just joking, so he's got a low key Getting His Due vibe going on.

Danny is definitely keeping Claude in the long term; they won't get to play together again until the following season. Claude having his wisdom teeth out before camp is going to put a crimp on some of Danny's plans, tho XD

They actually get to an one AHL game together (!) During Danny's 3 game reconditioning stint, and Danny absolutely will make sure everyone knows Claude is off limits, even if he hasn't collared Claude. You don't collar teammates of you have a sub at home, not unless you're also taking the teammate home and Danny is still valiantly trying to Keep The Peace for The Kids.

I don't want to speculate about any other team at this time (but wouldn't it be fun if Claude was the first sub Captain in the NHL? 👀)

Euro leagues think the way NHL does this stuff is low key bonkers, probably. So Berlin is an Experience.

No idea why I decided on the Timonen/Kukkonen pairing, especially since there is a nonzero chance of running into Kukkonen in real life back home XD

Uh really any specific questions I'm happy to answer! XD I guess also other teams too (although I promise no answers on those)

#brioux #my writing #anon ask #the dsverse au

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alittlextrathatway · 3 years

Note

General prompt #50 & Brettsey please 😊❤️

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

******

Sylvie isn’t quite comfortable with what’s unfolding around her. She can’t explain it. No one’s done anything or said anything to offend her, but there’s something unsettling about the way the group of men in the back corner of the bar are staring at her.

And if she’s learned anything from her years in the field, it’s trust her instincts.

They’re out celebrating Severide’s birthday. Whatever weirdness that’s happening between Kelly and Stella is forgotten for now, but after they stayed in last year she does find it suspicious that her friends opted for a group outing instead. It feels as if they’re using the public setting to avoid the tension between them, but it’s none of her business. Besides, it’s not as if she isn’t doing her fair share of ignoring tonight too.

She’s been avoiding Matt all night long. Which has been difficult since it’s just the four of them at one table. They’re not at Molly’s for once. This place is nicer. They had a fancy dinner at Swift and Sons, which Sylvie could never refuse, and then stopped in the more sophisticated bar down the street for after dinner drinks.

Stella and Severide have disappeared, likely into the bathroom to make out, and Matt is at the bar getting another drink.

Meanwhile, she’s at their table being blatantly leered at by a group of men in perfectly tailored suits and extremely expensive watches. They keep looking at her and whispering. It’s making her nervous and self-conscious.

She hadn’t had much opportunity to dress up lately so on Stella’s reassurance she’d gone all out tonight. Her dress was backless, sure, but it had a high neckline and long sleeves. She felt like it was the perfect mix of daring and demure.

But now she’s questioning the wisdom of her decision. Maybe she should have worn something less...eye catching. Her skin crawls as their eyes continue to drag over her. She gulps down a large sip of wine, praying she’s being paranoid and the wine will dull her imagination. But then one of the men stands from the table with his gaze intently focused on her.

Oh no.

Her eyes frantically search for a quick escape, sighing when they land on Matt.

She stands, grabs her purse, and winds her way through the tables as quick as she can. Settling herself onto the bar stool next to Matt, she loops her arm through his and leans in to speak softly.

“Please just go with it. There was a rich creep coming over to talk to me and I didn’t know where else to go.”

His shell shocked expression instantly sharpens, neck craning around the room. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“Sylvie, if someone was bothering you I need to know.”

“They were just...staring but it felt invasive. Back corner table to your left,” she murmurs, pointedly not glancing over at them.

“Ah, a group of trust fund pricks, makes sense,” Matt scoffs, edging closer to her and tossing a protective glare at the men. “Assholes.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been out and this dressed up,” she says with a tired sigh. “I think I got a little too excited. Should have gone with something more conservative.”

“Because of those jackasses?” Matt asks, brow furrowing in disapproval. “It’s not yours or anyone else’s fault that they can’t be respectful. You should wear what you want. Their bad behavior has nothing to do with you.”

His old fashioned is set down in front of him and he takes a moment to focus on the glass instead of her, fumbling over his words slightly. “Besides, uh, I think you look really great — stunning, even.” He clears his throat as he cheeks color and she thinks he looks adorably shy. “Dark blue is always a good color on you.”

“Thank you, Matt,” she says while an affectionate grin slides over her face.

He nods and takes a considerable gulp of his drink before replying. “You’re welcome.”

“You look good too,” she assures him, leaning back to get another good look at his trousers, light blue dress shirt, and suit jacket. “The shirt brings out your eyes.”

The only thing missing from his look is a tie, but if she’s honest she finds his open unbuttoned collar much more appealing anyway. It allows her to get a peek at his chest, which is not at all an unappealing sight. Not that she should be thinking such things. Ugh. She’s supposed to be getting over him. Not...whatever this is.

Their eyes connect and then appraise each other again. His eyes are darkening and she can feel her entire body flushing. He truly does look a bit dapper tonight. It reminds her of Joe and Chloe’s wedding and how every time she’d danced it had been with him.

She knows now that she hadn’t imagined the coiling build up of tension between them and that his hand constantly finding its way to the small of her back had meant something. At the time, she told herself she was being silly but now with all that’s transpired since she knows he felt the heady heat of attraction too.

The same heat she’s feeling right now, in fact.

He leans further into her space, tilting his face toward hers. “I really want to kiss you right now.” He gulps. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks now actually. I haven’t been able to think about anything else, if I’m honest.”

“We shouldn’t,” Sylvie replies, biting her bottom lip. “Nothing’s changed since our last talk.”

“You don’t know that,” he insists, in a hoarse gentle voice. “You’ve been too busy avoiding me to ask.”

She arches her neck back to get a long look at his entire face. Her eyes search his expression for any hint of what he means, but aside from the longing and the lust in his stare she doesn’t find a single clue.

“What do you mean? Should I ask? Because if I do and your answer is the same—“

“I think we got our wires crossed. I think you asked one question and I, in all my stupidity, heard a different one,” Matt supplies, cutting her off. “You think my answer meant I’m still in love with Gabby but in my mind I said something else. In my mind, I was trying to tell you that I will always love Gabby and care for her as I would any other friend. It’s complicated because she and I went through a lot together and I can’t forget that relationship ever happened. I learned so much from the mistakes she and I made—If I forget it then history will keep repeating itself and that’s the last thing I want. Especially with you.”

“I wasn’t asking you to forget her,” Sylvie clarifies. It never would have occurred to her that he might think that. “I just don’t want to be with someone who will always be wishing that I’m someone else. I want someone who wants me as much as I want them. I deserve that. What I don’t deserve is to be left in the dust should Gabby ever decide to come back.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Matt replies confidently.

“She came back last year, Matt. It’s possible—“

“No, not Gabby coming back. I’m sure that will happen. I wasn’t talking about her.”

“I don’t understand.”

He huffs and chuckles dryly, sounding affectionately exasperated. “I would never leave you in the dust, Sylvie. I need you too much to walk away. You have this idea that you’re somehow second best, and maybe that’s on me, but I promise you that you aren’t. You stand completely alone in my mind. So much so that when you’re around it’s hard to notice anyone else exists. If anything, no one else comes close to you.”

Her eyes start watering at his words. He’s managed to say everything she ever wanted to hear. But even in her wildest dreams it hadn’t sounded that beautiful or felt quite so satisfying.

She leans back in, pressing her forehead to his. “You should definitely kiss me now.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hungry expression overtaking his face. “There’s no going back this time. If you ask me for space I’m going to push through it. I’m going to fight for you.”

A thrill runs up her spine. He said those words with such determination. God, he truly does want her, doesn’t he?

“I’m sure, Matt,” she answers, reaching up to run her hands through his hair. “Kiss me.”

And then he does. Somehow, it’s even more perfect than the first time. Her fear and hesitation are gone and she can pour her entire being into him. All her walls are down. She tried to move on from Matt Case, but she should have known she never would. No one else makes her feel secure enough to drop all of her walls. Only Matt.

From now on, there’s only Matt.

#chicago fire #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #fanfiction #angellwings writes #my fic #fanfiction prompt game #ask prompt #sorry this is another long one 😬

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sylvctica · 2 years

Text

@wise-innocence inquired: “Sylvie! A little birdie said it’s a day of your birth and nothing is more exciting than that!” Yanfei loved birthdays as it was an excuse to spoil loved ones. With that said, she was quick to place a somewhat large bouquet of flowers in their hands before eagerly talking about their contents. “Mother says flowers are a language of their own so naturally I brushed off my floral skills! Let’s see– this bundle contains Irises for wisdom, Gladioli for strength, and Geranium for good health!” They also mean stupid but she decided to leave that part out. “Oh and noteholder has a little get-out-of-jail free card! My services will be available to you free of charge… but please don’t go seeking out trouble okay?”

it’s a tree’s birthday today // accepting

“Is the little birdie old and rigid like a musty stone?” One corner of their mouth quirked up in a cheeky smirk at their own (terrible) description, but it was just as quick to shift back to a normal smile as it was for Yanfei to put the flowers in their hands.

Indeed, it was Irises, Gladioli, and Geraniums ... “Lovely flowers—and you are on point with their symbolism ... Irises can also mean hope, valor, and faith as well ... and I think you and I both know Geraniums may have an extra meaning.”

All words said with a wink towards her; they know. They know.

At the latter set of her words, eyes moved to scan where the cardholder was, plucking the little card and seeing that, yep, it was her card indeed. A moment passed before a deep, hearty and boisterous laugh left the god, rattling their whole body for what seemed like a good minute. “It’d be a failure on my part if I do need it! What kinda subtle vigilante would I be otherwise?” So they say, but they’ve been bailed out at least enough times that they could count it on one hand.

“Hehe, thank you. I’ll do my very best to not swamp you with too much free work.”

#[ PLS THE LIL GET OUT OF JAIL CARD KILLED THEM ]#[ they're keeping that very safe ]#SYLVIE // ANSWERED.#wiseinnocence #bday 2022

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mileycfan4eva33 · 3 years

Text

Fandom: One Chicago

Title: Fight For Me:

Chapter 1 Red-Hot

P O V: Sylvie Brett

A/N: I don't own the legal rights to One Chicago or SVU despite my many attempts to beg for a partnership with Wolf Entertainment.

Wrightwood Park

2534 N Greenview Ave, Chicago, IL 60614

May 2021

"What you're not getting, Matt, is this has nothing to do with Greg Granger. It doesn't even have to do with me. It has to do with the fact that you're still in love with Dawson."

Matt Casey looked back at me wide-eyed; his expression held a storminess to it, the look of a deer caught in headlights. It's not cute or funny; the brutal truth never is when you break it down to its rawness. Deer are skittish, withdrawn animals, antisocial for fear of getting hurt; deer struggle to settle into one place for too long.

Deeply insecure but in a sweet coquettish nature, a deer's life is spent searching for venture traveling most of their lives in the pursuit of a balanced life, one that includes stability and prey and emotional fulfillment. They love to watch and are pros at the art of observance. They know their land every nook and cranny shy creatures as they hide in the elements of nature in the day and come out to explore and play at night.

Nimble yet beautiful creatures they are harmless to people, never confident enough for fear of rejection or being hurt. Being so cautious and skittish, however, can be dangerous, especially in the middle of the night when they are simply playing or following their families across the land; they are often caught off guard when a car comes speeding towards them suddenly they are caught in a situation beyond control they freeze hence the saying caught in headlights.

In those moments, the truth races through their minds they are going to die unless they act fast, most can not; it's simply not in their nature to fight, so used to being the prey they accept it's their fate to die; some have a rare ability to think fast and fight for their lives.

Most freeze.

"I called you out, and you haven't done anything about it. Maybe you should reach out and resolve that so you can go back to being the Matt Casey everyone around here looks up to, not this version."

It's been two weeks since I called Matt out on his refusal to acknowledge his feelings for his ex-wife and his slothful enervate undertaking of his feelings towards his so-called feelings to me.

"My feelings for you are real, Sylvie."

"I want you to know; I really appreciated you saying what you did last shift. You were right; thank you for helping me get my head straight."

Past conversations with Matt burn inside my head as I try to focus on the game I am in; I'm bent down into an athletic position with hands on my knees, ready for play to begin again. I can see Kelly Severide bouncing the basketball down the court. I know I need to focus; Kelly choose Leslie Shay and me to be on his team, and he's a beast on the court; he takes his game seriously. I don't want to look stupid or inexperienced; but I can't seem to get Matt and his words out of my head or my conversation with Stella Kidd.

"I basically just told Casey I'm in love with him."

"You know what? There's no need to panic here, okay. What is so wrong with him knowing how you feel? That is how you feel, right?

"I… I can't feel that way.

"Why not?"

"I just… I just can't. Trust me. I'm just going to pretend I didn't say what I said, and then everything can go back to normal."

"Is that really the healthiest?"

Shake your damn head out, Brett, focus. You need to be focused; you should be up there helping Kelly. Run Brett race towards Kelly, get Matt out of your damn head. My feet listen, forcing me to sprint towards where Kelly and Matt are fighting for dominance over the basketball, which is nothing more than an orange and black blur to my vision. No matter how fast I run, though, I can't escape the voices of my past.

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you, Brett. I'm delighted you're okay."

"It's just the craziest thing climbing out of there and seeing you. How'd you get there so fast?"

"Well, it wasn't just me. We all responded quick, rushed down there together."

"Hmm, funny, I didn't see anyone else at first."

"Yeah, they were there."

"It's always been you. Uh, I just mean, you're always the one who's there for me in a crisis. That's all I mean. I guess I'm just trying to thank you for being such a good friend."

"I don't regret kissing you, Brett."

If those words are all true, why is it taking Matt so damn long to fight for me? All I want is for a guy to love me enough to fight for me to make me his entire world. I'm not clingy or possessive; I don't need him stapled to my hip twenty-four-seven. I want to know that I am the only one whose scent is filling his nostrils. I want my delicate skin to linger on his fingertips the way a slow song is forever dancing on the tips of our memories.

Is it too much to ask? Am I not worthy of a guy to waste his time on? I feel as if I am drowning in an ocean of emotions. I spend so much time on my knees praying for the wisdom to see through this storm some days.

I lose my breath.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13852425/1/Fight-For-Me

Read the rest at Fanfiction. Net or AO3

#chicagofire #onechicago #fanfiction #chicagopd #sylviebrett #brettsey #mattcasey

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epithet-erased-textposts · 4 years

Note

Sylvie kinda reminds me of Brian David Gilbert from polygon's unraveled

idk what this means but posting because i’m sure someone is gonna get the reference

thank you for your wisdom anon

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munchyn · 5 years

Text

Sylvie Pauline

Word count: 7052

Warning: I think there are some things that are worth giving you a warning, but I’m too lazy right now to re-read this. I do know that she is ill and that part is kinda depressing.

A.N: This is something I wrote at school and it doesn’t really have a plot but I plan on fixing that. Hopefully.

(I kinda picture Sylvie as a genderbent Percy Jackson)

The fourth of March was a fairly normal day. Apart from the fact that it was the day of the auction. People never knew which kids were chosen to leave. The guards just appeared at your house and took them. There was a rumour that they were already chosen in the big cities, but there was no proof. That’s exactly what had happened to Sylvie Pauline. She was enjoying time with her older fifteen-year-old sister, Danielle when there was a knock on the makeshift door of their little house. Her mother opened the door and the men entered the house like a stampede. They took Sylvie by the arm as she clawed to escape from their grip. She was too shocked to say anything as the men had appeared out of nowhere.

They hauled her into the back of the pickup truck along with four other kids. Sylvie looked back at her home as the truck engine roared to life. She watched as her mother and sister watched her leave.

“Hey,” said a teenage girl next to her. At that age, she wouldn’t be able to know what age the girl was but knew she was definitely older than her. “I’m Annabelle. Who are you?” Sylvie looked at her in awe. Finally, she answered by telling the girl, Annabelle her name, “Sylvie.”

Along the ride away from the massive Trash Park she lived in, Sylvie watched as they neared the gates that separated the countries largest dumpster from the outside world. She stood up in the crammed cargo of the truck and headed to the front, trying to keep her balance whenever the truck passed over some stray piece of garbage. She got up on some wooden boxes to get a better view of where they were going. She looked back at the iron gates that were covered in the dry thorny branches of blackberry bushes. The guards there would check if the people had any diseases like rabies, which you could get from a rat bite or any other sickness. They checked every month to keep them healthy in the Trash Parks and take the sick to a hospital to get treatment. Bringing them back once they recovered fully. Sylvie sat back down. She looked at the kids in front of her, she didn’t speak the whole trip to Paris. She sometimes would take a peek at the driver. He was short and bald, he also was on the chubby side. In the rearview mirror, Sylvie could see he was wearing a pair of sunglasses.

In a few hours, Sylvie could see the glow of city lights up ahead in just a twenty minutes drive. She stood up again and was fascinated as they got closer. Annabelle warned her to be careful of not falling down.

“Be careful,” she said. “You won’t want to fall down.” Sylvie looked back and flashed her a smile. ‘She seems nice.’ she thought as she turned back to the glorious Paris. She saw planes coming and going, cars driving in and out of the city. Sylvie had never seen so much action in one place. The only thing she had seen so far in her life were makeshift homes, skinny kids who played with her every day and fights between stray dogs and cats. This was a drastic change for her and the other kids. The ones of her age joined her as they oohed and wowed. Sylvie stayed silent though. When they reached the first bump the kids fell back on their butts. They quickly scrambled to get back to their seats. They sat there for the rest trip until they reached a haunted-looking building. Sylvie hoped it didn’t look like this during the day. ‘Cause then she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

The man stepped out of the driver's seat and wobbled to the back of the truck. He unhooked the door and helped the kids get out while the teens jumped off. Once the chosen children were all out of the pickup truck of the driver who had presented himself as Mr Burman earlier. He took them to the gates of the building. He called somebody inside with a walkie he had in the pocket of his Bermuda pants. Sylvie wondered how he wasn’t freezing to death, she shivered as the breeze pierced the skin under her shirt. After a few minutes of waiting, a young lady with brown hair came to open the gates. She thanked Mr Burman and lead them through the glass doors of the building. From there she instructed the teens into different rooms than the younger children. The woman gave them each a change of clothes for them to sleep in. They got all cleaned up and got into their beds.

The next morning, Sylvie was woken by beams of sunlight directed straight to her face. She stood up and slowly followed the rest of the kids that were streaming out of the doors of the room. She got glimpses of them as they bumped into her. Most of them were so excited they dashed through the hallways to get to wherever they were going. Others went at a calm pace like what whatever was ahead of them didn’t change a thing about their life.

She ended up sitting at a plastic white picnic table between two boys about her age. There were plastic plates filled with food in front of her. They had a mix of mashed potatoes, broccoli, steak and a loaf of bread. She started to eat her potatoes, they were the best food she had ever eaten. That is comparing it to her previous meals in the Trash Park. Soon she felt someone poke her in the arm. She looked up at one of the boys next to her.

“What’s your name?” he said in a heavy French accent. Sylvie blinked a few times before she answered.

“My name is Sylvie,” she said. “Sylvie Pauline.” The boy nodded.

“I’m Rael,” he said. “When did you come here?” Sylvie told Rael that she had arrived yesterday. Then about her former life with her family in the dumpster. How she played various games with her sister Danielle. Then about her trip to her current home. The Orphanage of Paris. In exchange, Rael told her how he had been born in the city of Paris but his parents had died when he was just a baby. His aunt hadn’t wanted him in her care so she sent him to the orphanage. In Sylvie's opinion that was even worse than her case. At least then in the dumpster, her family had loved her and taken care of her.

Already in her fourth year, Sylvie entered the dining area. She searched for her dear friend Rael. She found him next to her other friends Alexa, Marine and Sophia. All of them (like Rael) Had been born in Paris. Making Sylvie the only one to know the original French. Sylvie told them what their names meant, Sophia meaning wisdom or skill and Marine meaning from the sea. Sylvie was about to start eating her breakfast when a familiar woman entered the room. Sylvie stood up from the bench and walked to the door. She looked back at Rael, who just smiled and waved at her before she disappeared from his sight.

What Sylvie expected to be on the other side of the door certainly wasn’t the richest family in France but that was just her luck. There stood the Renée family. Smiling at her, it was weird and awkward. There were a tall man and a woman, with them were two little kids one was a boy and looked about as old as Sylvie. The other was just a mere baby. She had big blue eyes and an adorable little face. Sylvie felt like going to her and squishing her chubby little cheeks, the urge was strong but she fought it. She didn’t know these people, therefore she couldn’t touch any of them. That was what her mother used to say, “Respect others Sylvie, and they’ll respect you,” Sylvie listened to her like she would a goddess. To her, her mother spoke words filled only with wisdom. “And with mutual respect fille, no harm will come to you. That was the one she turned out to be wrong. Sylvie had respected every living thing on the face of the earth and still, she had been taken away from everything she loved. She always used many of her mother's sayings. The day she had joined in the orphanage and stayed there for four years, she did as her mother said. Never show sadness for a loss.

Sylvie always looked joyful, laughing around with her friends and being nice to everyone. Even the so-called “mean kids”. The familiar looking woman spoke. Then Sylvie remembered who she was. It was Annabelle from the truck ride, Sylvie thought she had left the orphanage when she had become old enough to fend for herself. Sure she had heard rumours that she had gotten a job at the orphanage but she never really believed them, “Sylvie, this is your new family, Mr and Mrs Renée and their children.” Annabelle kneeled down to her level and gave her a tight hug. “Goodbye Sylvie, I’ll miss you.”

Sylvie slowly hugged back and let a tear slip down her face. Annabelle pulled away and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. The now grown woman pulled away once more and stood straight again. She allowed Sylvie and the Renée’s to have some time alone. Sylvie could see Annabelle wipe away the tears forming in her eyes. The first few months at the orphanage Sylvie would sneak out of the room she shared with fifty other children and go to the bathroom where she would always find the teen she had met on the ride.

She watched as Annabelle walked back into the dining room to give the news that she Sylvie had been adopted. She couldn’t help but imagine Rael’s face when he heard the news, and Alexa, Sophia and Marine. She knew they would be happy for her. But still upset at losing a friend. She looked back at the Renée’s. The woman stepped forward and let out a hand for Sylvie to shake.

“I’m Claudia Renée,” she said. “This is my husband Nicola Renée.” Mrs Renée gestured to the tall thin man. His face reminded Sylvie of somebody who was breathing some kind of really stinky smell. ‘Don’t let looks defy you fille,’ her mother would say. Sylvie assumed he wasn’t like this all the time. She guessed Mrs Renée had dragged the whole family here to adopt her. The idea made Sylvie giggle. The woman smiled.

“Had to beg him to come here you know,” she whispered. Sylvie smiled widely. Then she noticed the boy staring at her. She stared right back. He had stormy grey eyes like his mother and black hair like his father. The baby in her mother’s arms reached out to Sylvie. Mr Renée smiled at the baby and then back at Sylvie. “This little girl here is Marie.”

The girl smiled a toothless grin. Sylvie smiled back for what felt like the thousandth time. The woman then led them all back to the parking lot outside, that Sylvie never knew existed. The family had a big black van. With seats for three and for five at the back. Sylvie sat next to the boy. Marie sat in her booster in front of her. It was a long ride of uncomfortable silence until Sylvie finally asked, “So-” she looked at him carefully. “-What’s your name?”

“Jen,” he said. Sylvie nodded. “How long have you been in the orphanage?”

Sylvie thought for a moment before answering. “Some four years. By the way, how old are you?” Sylvie asked Jen.

“Eleven,” he answered. Jen didn’t sound excited, but that didn’t affect Sylvie.

“Me too!” the girl said it like she had just drunk a dozen cups of coffee. “My birthday’s on the fifth of May. Yours?”

“The sixth of February,” said Jen. The two continued talking until the car stopped. Sylvie looked out the window and saw a white marvel mansion with huge oak doors. Her jaw dropped in awe. She sat gaping there until Jen tapped her shoulder, signalling her to get off. She closed her mouth and hopped out of the van. She walked next to Jen, when they got to the huge doors Sylvie wondered how they could open them. The doors looked extremely heavy. Mr Renée typed in a code into a small screen on the wall. Immediately, the doors swung open.

Sylvie guessed she looked confused because Jen explained to her that they were the only family in France that could manage to afford a mansion with tech as advanced as they had. Sylvie simply nodded at everything he said, she was too stunned to even talk.

On the inside of the manor, there were two staircases, each crossing the other halfway up. The floor was made out of a red carpet floor, the same could be said for the staircases. Sylvie had to resist the urge to run up and down the steps. She looked back at Jen as if asking if she could go, Jen just shrugged. He just looked at his mother. The woman saw the look on Sylvie's face and just smiled.

“Common Sylvie,” she said. “I’ll show you your room.” they both went up the stairs and then turned a right before reaching a black door. Mr Renée unlocked the door with a silver key. She hears a few clicks and The blonde woman pushed the door and it opened with a creak. She frowned then said, “We really need to fix this door.”

Sylvie looked inside the room. It seemed fairly normal, there was a bed with black sheets, a desk, and a closet. Sylvie didn’t suspect anything about it, apart from the fact that it seemed pretty dark with all the black. Once she could, she’d ask her new family for a more colourful touch. “I’m sorry for the gloomy look,” said the woman. “No one’s used this room in a long time. My brother,-” she paused at the word. “-He was a pretty dark person. When he moved out he was never seen again.”

She shook her head and the smile from earlier returned to her face. “We’ll change it to your liking as soon as we can.” she began to walk out of the dark room. “I’ll give you a moment to settle in.” and with those words, she was out in the hall.

Sylvie jumped onto the bed. The pillow was soft and squishy, and she was certain she didn’t want to replace it. She decided to go to sleep since she had nothing to do and she was tired. I know, weird. She just had breakfast and she’s already tired. The night/day went fast, Sylvie had no dreams, and without her knowing Jen and his mother had come to check on her around the afternoon. They had started to get worried since she hadn’t come out in the whole day. Mrs Renée smiled at the sight of it. Sylvie's black hair spread all over the pillow and drool coming out from the corner of her mouth, she thought it was just adorable. They left her to rest until the next morning.

Sylvie woke to the cry of a little baby. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, yawning. She headed to the door and pulled it open. What she saw made her have to suppress a laugh. Mrs Renée was holding little crying Marie while speaking on the phone, holding it between her cheek and shoulder. She also held a backpack in her hand. A sleepy Mr Renée walked out of the room, his raven black hair was sticking out everywhere and he had dark bags under his eyes. He had a mug in his hand that read ‘Meilleur papa au monde’ (Best dad in the world). That was what made her burst out laughing. The couple didn’t notice her. Mrs Renée handed the baby to the father, who put the mug down and rubbed his face with his hand as he took the baby.

Mrs Renée finally got Jen to get the backpack and gave him some toast. She rushed him out of the manor and then told Sylvie to get in too. They all buckled up and left the other two alone in the mansion. As they went on their way to the school Mrs Renée spoke up, “So Sylvie, I asked the head of school if you could join in with Jen at school and he said that if you have a high enough level you could.-” she pushed the breaks as they reached a red light. “-So today I’m taking you to take a quiz of sorts.” Sylvie nodded and the woman smiled at her through the rearview mirror.

After a while of driving Mrs Renée parked the van. Jen opened the sliding door of the vehicle and hopped off, Sylvie followed. Jen immediately ran to catch up with his friends.

Mrs Renée signalled for Sylvie to follow her, Sylvie did just that. She followed the blonde woman through halls of classes, at some point she saw Jen working with a curly red headed girl on a science project. Jen saw her and waved, Sylvie waved back.

She followed Mrs Renée into a room with a man sitting at a desk. The man had wispy white hair and glasses that slid down his small nose every few minutes. Mrs Renée knocked on the open door and the man looked up. He smiled once he saw who it was at the door.

“Ah, Mrs Renée,” he said and then looked at Sylvie. “And this must be Sylvie.” Mrs Renée nodded. She had a serious face instead of her usual smile so Sylvie just assumed the two didn’t have a good history. “Here to take the quiz?”

Sylvie nodded looking into the man's glassy blue eyes, Sylvie thought they made him look like a ghost. The man smiled, but unlike Mrs Renée’s his was cold and didn’t seem to have a lot of joy put into it. Sylvie didn’t want to see it again. He pulled out a few papers from a drawer and handed them to Sylvie, “If you could just answer all these questions and then give the papers back to me. Then I’ll have a little word with...your mother.”

Sylvie was surprised at the thought of Mrs Renée being her mother. She looked at the woman and saw that her face was a bright red. What Sylvie didn’t know was if that red was out of anger or embarrassment. Was it really that embarrassing to have her as a child? Sylvie shook it off. Mrs Renée leads her to a small table and gave her a pencil to write with. Sylvie wrote her name at the top of the page. She had memorised the moment of it since she had a problem with reading as if the letters would float in the air around her. She had been taken to the doctor at the orphanage. But even they didn’t know what it was. It was probably another one of those things that had affected the new generation of people in France to the bombs dropped, but those symptoms were extremely rare.

She looked at all the math problems but made nothing of them. She looked back at Mrs Renée. “I can’t read it,” she said bowing her head in shame. She looked up at the woman and saw the shock on her face.

“What do you mean you can’t read it Sylvie?” the woman said in a kind voice. “Didn’t they teach you at the orphanage?” Sylvie nodded.

“Yes, but the letters float around when I try to read,” Sylvie started to cry as she explained. Mrs Renée hugged her tightly as she shook in her arms. “They took me to the doctor at the orphanage but he didn’t know what it was. They thought it might be one of those things that happen to the people of the new generation, but…”

Mrs Renée shushed her and stroked her black hair as tears poured out of the girls sea green eyes. She put her hands on Sylvie's shoulders and told her, “Don’t worry Sylvie, we’ll tell Mr Bruno about it and see what he says.” They stood up and walked back to the man at the desk, which Sylvie assumed was Mr Bruno.

Mrs Renée stopped in front of him almost leaning onto the table. She cleared her voice to get the man's attention, “Excuse me Mr Bruno,” she started. “Um-” she looked down at Sylvie, who had tear stains on her cheeks and was looking down at her feet in embarrassment. Mrs Renée looked back at the principal. “Sylvie, she um...she can’t read the problems on the paper.”

Mr Bruno’s head snapped up, “She doesn’t know how to read?” The woman looked down at Sylvie, who still had her head bowed.

“Not exactly,” she said. “She says that the letters float around in the air when she tries to read.” Mr Bruno knitted his bushy eyebrows in thought. He hummed and nodded.

“I see,” he finally said. “What Sylvie has is a simple case of dyslexia.” Sylvie looked up for the first time in the whole conversation.

“Is it one of those things that happened to the people affected by the bombs?” she asked.

“No, no,” said the ghost man, as Sylvie had decided to call him a minute ago. “This was here centuries ago. In fact, there is a book from the two thousand were most of the characters were dyslexic, but never mind.” Mr Bruno pushed up his glasses as they were sliding down. “I’m afraid we can’t have Sylvie join us due to this...dyslexia. But I know other schools that will gladly accept her.” The man smiled.

Mrs Renée smiled, but Sylvie noticed it was fake. “Thank you Mr Bruno.” She held Sylvie's hand as they walked out of the room. They walked back through the same corridors and past the same rooms and saw Jen working on a math problem with one of his friends. They passed the same glass doors as before, and took the same path through the parking lot and got into the same black van as before.

They drove back to the mansion. Mrs Renée typed in the code and they headed into the families home. Mrs Renée looked like an angry bull you didn’t want to get on the bad end of. She kept rambling on about how they wouldn’t let Sylvie into the school. Then a now fully awake Mr Renée came into the entrance room (although it was the size of a ballroom).

“Hello mon amour,” he said with a smile on his face. But when he saw his wife his face quickly changed into a frown. “What happened?” Mrs Renée just kept on rambling and he understood what had happened. His expression lost all its happiness, “Oh.”

“Yeah, and we don’t have the time to pick them up at different schools! I mean, I don’t blame you Sylvie for your dyslexia but couldn’t the school at least give her a separate mentor? I’m sure the only problem here is that she’s not able to read and that she could understand the problems perfectly if the just read them out loud for her!”

“Breathe mon amour, breath,” Mrs Renée did as her husband said and breathed in deep breaths. This seemed to calm her. “Tomorrow we’ll figure it out. I’m sure there’s an easy solution to this.”

The rest of the day Sylvie stayed with little Marie. Occasionally she would call the infant petit soeur. Once she did when either of the couples was in the room. Really bad idea, they would get very excited and Sylvie hated the attention. Her face would also be as red as a tomato. She tried to ignore them as they cooed at her and the baby.

By around four p.m Jen was back at the home. Jen was glad to have him back. It was kinda boring in the house being the only eleven years old. Then Sylvie had an idea, she looked all around the house searching for her new mother. When she finally did she proposed her idea, “Um, mom?” she hesitated. It felt awkward to use that word with the blonde woman. “Mom?” she said again. This time the woman turned around to face Sylvie. She was covered in grease from fixing the bike of her husband. Her eyes widened when her brain connected the dots to the fact that Sylvie had called her mom. She shook her head and stared at Sylvie.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Well,” started the girl. “I’d like to propose an idea. When Jen comes back from his school he could teach me what he learned that day by showing me his homework, and while he’s at school I could stay at home doing chores with one of you,” she said. “If you don’t have work to do of course,” she added quickly, lifting her hands in front of her.

“I love the idea, Sylvie,” said Mrs Renée. “I’ll go tell dad about it once I finish fixing his bike okay.” Sylvie nodded and walked out of the garage. Once she had closed the door she heard the voice of Mrs Renée screaming out to her husband, “She called my mom, oh I’m so happy.” Sylvie rolled her eyes. She was going to enjoy her time with this family.

So the years passed and Sylvie would basically live in the house. Taking care of the dog Marie had insisted they get. It was a breed of Labrador and dalmatian. It was adorable. It had bicolour eyes and black and white fur. She was also there to comfort Marie at Dobby’s (the dog’s) funeral when he died of a car crash. She was there at the parties at Jens schools. All his friends complimenting her on how good she looked. She went along great with all of them. She was also there at two of his graduations. She was another member of the family. She helped Mr Renée with chores around the house. But her favourite days were when Mrs Renée had to stay late at work and she’d sit in the couch, curled up in a blanket burrito with Mr. Renée and Jen would come back home from school with Marie to join them there and watch from horror all the way to kids movies until they all fell asleep together. Then Mrs Renée finding them there at three in the morning and turning off the TV as the credits rolled and also joining the rest of her family.

Soon the time came when Sylvie had to leave and start her own new life. They gave her an apartment to start with and a phone to contact them. But of course there were taxes and so she was kicked out of her home. She didn’t have a job or anything that would help her win money. The first week on the streets was terrible. She didn’t have any idea of how to get food. She remembered something about putting aluminium foil on the inside of a backpack, and that if you put anything inside no one would notice you stole it. Of course, unless they count the stuff every day. Sylvie put aluminium foil into the pockets of her hoodie, pants and into her backpack. She got herself food this way and fresh clozes, she also got shampoo and body soap, books, notebooks, pencils, colouring supplies, a laptop, a charger and many other things. At some point, she decided she’d start stealing from other people's wallets. With that money she decided to spend time at cafes with her laptop, drinking hot cocoa and charging her devices. She wrote stories of her own in the notebooks (which was extremely hard due to her dyslexia), she did it all for fun. At the cafes, she met plenty of people. She met Elizabeth, who let her use the shower at her house.

“Hello, may I sit here with you?” asked a woman who couldn’t be older than Sylvie. “Every other place is full.”

“No not at all,” said Sylvie. She put away most of the notebooks that littered the table to make space for the nice looking woman. They sat there in silence for a while. Until the woman asked Sylvie, “So, where do you live?”

Sylvie looked up at her, “Huh?” The woman repeated her question. “Oh, I live on the outsides of Paris. The plumbing there is terrible.” It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the complete truth either. Sylvie lived in an abandoned mall in the outskirts of Paris. There weren’t any showers or anything so that’s why she was filthy. Her blue hoodie had spots of dirt and mud and rain all mashed all up into one piece of clothing. It was the hoodie the Renée’s had given her when she left. She loved it and just didn’t find herself able to get rid of it.

The woman's big brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight coming in through the windows. The same expression in them as Mrs Renée when she would do anything for Sylvie to feel welcome. Sylvie liked the woman in front of her, she looked like she would be a great friend and she hadn’t had one of those in a while. “I’m Elizabeth,” she said as she put out a hand.

“Sylvie,” she shook Elizabeth's hand.

“If you want you could come to take a shower at my house every once in a while,” she said, “Rub off all the dirt you have on you.” Sylvie smiled and thanked her.

“By the way, have you seen my pencil?” she asked Elizabeth. “I swore I had on this table.” together they looked for Sylvie’s pencil as they got to know each other. By the time Elizabeth spotted the black and yellow writing utensil in Sylvie’s messy bun, she already knew about Sylvie’s dyslexia and extreme allergy to peanuts.

Sylvie was on her way to Elizabeth’s house on a stormy night. When she was about halfway there a chameleon had dropped onto her head, she swatted it away. And though silently to herself ‘Where did that come from’, but that’s not the point She wore a Coca Cola hoodie and a pair of jeans. Her Adidas shoes were soaking wet and so was the backpack she so desperately had tried to shield from the rain (it had her laptop in it). She felt someone collide with her shoulder, sending her tumbling down into a puddle on the ground. Her butt was soaking wet now and so was all she was wearing. She looked up at the man who had sent her down into the world of soaking wet and cold clothes.

The man had shaggy black hair and pale olive skin. Sylvie was about to yell at him some censored stuff until she recognized the man. She had seen him in pictures around the mansion. “You’re- you’re Markus Adeleile,” Sylvie stuttered in shock. The man’s eyes widened in shock.

“How did you-” he started to wonder but was cut off by Sylvie.

“I lived with your sister, she and her husband adopted me a few years back.” Sylvie stopped for a moment. “That would make you my uncle. Would you like to come with me? I know you’ve been living on the streets. I’ve seen you before in shops, stealing stuff, like me. I’m going to a friends house to take a shower. If you want you could take one too, I’m sure she would be more than happy to help more than one homeless person.” Markus nodded and followed a shivering Sylvie to her friend's house.

Sylvie knocked on the door and Elizabeth immediately opened. She let them both in, gave Markus a towel and showed him where the shower was. She also gave him some extra clothes from her boyfriend’s closet. Sylvie talked with Elizabeth about the man.

“So how do you know him?” asked Elizabeth.

“He’s my uncle,” replied Sylvie. Elizabeth looked shocked. “Well, his sister adopted me when I was eleven. Since then they’ve been my family.”

“Okay,” said her shocked friend. “But how did you meet him?”

“When I was on my way here, he bumped into me and sent me into a puddle on the floor. I asked him if he wanted to take a shower at your house and he’s homeless. Like me.” Sylvie only muttered the last part, but it was enough for Elizabeth to hear.

“Wait, Sylvie, you’re homeless?” Sylvie nodded as she looked down at the floor in embarrassment, holding the warm cup of hot cocoa close to her chest. She muttered an “I’m sorry.” and Elizabeth looked at her incredulously. “Sylvie! I could’ve given you a room in my house. I could’ve helped you find a job, a hobby and even a partner to share your life with!” Sylvie looked up at her dearest friend and smiled at her.

“Thank you Elizabeth but I’m fine,” right then Markus went in wearing a Tommy Bahama and some shorts. Sylvie snorted, cocoa shooting out of her nostrils. She rapidly fanned her face as Elizabeth stifled in a laugh. “Lizzie, it’s not funny!”

For the next months, Markus and Sylvie lived with Elizabeth and her boyfriend. They both had a pretty big house, so it didn’t necessarily bother them. But Sylvie had a secret she wouldn’t tell anyone, every time she tried to eat, everything just went back up again. She didn’t know what it was but it worried her and that’s precisely why she didn’t want to tell anyone. She didn’t want Elizabeth, or her boyfriend or Markus to worry about her. It wasn’t necessary. In the past month, she had lost a considerable amount of weight and she could see her ribs under her skin.

She had tried to go to the doctor, but something always came up. First the job interview, then Elizabeth coming everywhere with her. She just never found the time. Then they also had to find Markus a job too, it was just impossible. As the months passed Sylvie got worse and worse. Her birthday was also coming up. This was just like a terrible birthday present. Sylvie didn’t even know how she lasted this long. She was sure she was going to be dead by the fifth of May anyway. Her dream at that time was just to live long enough to have one more birthday party.

Speaking of parties. It was just her luck that today was a party and Sylvie had to go. Elizabeth had invited a buttload of people and there was food everywhere. Everybody gave her something to try but kept it all on her on her plate, not bothering to even bring it up to her lips, but dinner time (unfortunately) eventually had to come. Everyone sat at the table. Sylvie’s plate was still full, she didn’t want to be rude so she put a forkful of food into her mouth. She swallowed. She gagged at first but slowly tried again as the food went down her oesophagus. She could feel her stomach fighting back against the food.

She put on a fake smile as her face became a sickening green. Elizabeth asked if she was okay and Sylvie nodded. Elizabeth focused back on chatting with one of her colleagues from work. Sylvie got dizzy and lost the will to fight against her stomach. She threw up on the floor, falling out of her chair. Elizabeth rushed to her friend's side. Holding her in her arms as she seemed to be freezing from the way she shook. Elizabeth touched her friend's forehead and quickly pulled away at the freezing touch. Sylvie started to pass out as Elizabeth yelled at someone to call an ambulance. Then after that, all she saw was darkness.

Sylvie woke up in a hospital bed. She opened her eyes fully and saw a girl in the chair next to her bed. Beside her was a familiar looking man. “Hello, Sylvie.” She jumped at the sudden voice. The memories flooded her mind. The party, the food, passing out.

“How long was I out?” she asked. Elizabeth looked her friend straight in the eyes.

“A month,” she said. Sylvie sat back in thought. She l heard a groan from her right and there she saw...Mr. Renée? No. He had grey eyes.

“Jen…?” she looked at her adoptive brother. She smiled and jumped into his arms. Waking up the teenager sitting next to him. The girl had choppy black hair and big turquoise eyes. “Marie!” yelled Sylvie, pulling her sister into the hug.

“Want to go home?” asked Jen. Sylvie nodded like a chiwawa and got off of her siblings.

After Jen had a small word with a nurse at the counter, and then they were gone. They drove to the Renée mansion. Sylvie sat next to Jen in the passenger seat. They didn’t speak much, it felt awkward. But what had Sylvie wondering, was the constant smile on both of the two Renée siblings. She slowly smiled as she saw the white marvel mansion appear as they turned the corner. One moment it had been tall buildings (that weren’t there when Sylvie was younger by the way) and then it was a wide field with a white manor next to the forest.

Jen drove through the dirt path and parked in front of the oak doors. The three got out of the car as Elizabeth pulled up behind them. She and her boyfriend got out of their black SUV. Sylvie suddenly felt two hands over her eyes and felt someone guiding her to the doors. She smirked at the sound of shuffling feet. The person lifted the hands from her face and at first, all Sylvie could see darkness. Then a blinding light (ok, I exaggerated).

People jumped out from behind pots with plants, tables, chairs and from under the stairs yelling, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYLVIE!”

There was a blue banner with the words “Happy B-Day Sylvie!” written in red. Her hands shot up to her mouth in shock and joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she jumped up and down. Everyone was there Mr and Mrs Renée, Markus, Jen, Marie, Elizabeth and somehow they had managed to get Rael and all of Sylvie's friends from the orphanage there. “Who put this all together?” she asked looking around at everybody. They all pointed at Jen. Sylvie ran up to him and gave him a koala hug. She got off and saw that his face was all red. She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Jen.”She then went to her parents as they wrapped her in a huge hug.

The rest of her life Sylvie lived with her family in the mansion. Markus lived there as well. Sylvie didn’t have eating problems any more after a bit of treatment. She gave advice to Marie and she would plan pranks with her on her husband Jen (It’s not weird because they’re adoptive siblings). He didn’t enjoy them, and with Sylvie’s years of thievery experience, it made it all the worse. Sometimes she would ask him if he had his wallet, and he confidently answered with a yes.

“You sure?” she would ask. Jen rolled his eyes and answered with another yes. But then he would look in his jean pockets as Sylvie showed his wallet in her hand.

They had twin brothers together and a daughter. Quinn, Harvey and Danielle, after Sylvie's blood sister. The two twins were both boy versions of a younger Sylvie and Danielle had the curly blonde hair from her grandmother along with the grey eyes of her father. Sylvie was also there to help her children out with their homework.

We were all riding in the van of my mother's childhood. She had begged dad to go to an abandoned mall, she literally stood on her knees with her hands clamped together as she begged him to go. The sight was pretty funny. Dad parked the van and helped me, Quinn and Harvey, out of the back. Mom ran through the mall looking for someplace. I don’t know what so don’t ask me. Finally, she stopped in front of a bookstore. Well, an abandoned one anyways. I wondered why she wanted to be here since she’s dyslexic. My mom is weird, you’ll learn that about her soon enough.

She came out with three huge backpacks. They were all packed with stuff. She said we were ready to go. After that, I discovered that what she had in the bags were books and notebooks filled with stuff she had written in them. That is how my mom soon became a famous author and I followed in her footsteps.

These days I write books for a living and share an apartment with my adoptive sister (and wife) Adelaila. We both own a dog called Claudia (after my grandmother) and a cat called Percy. Adelaila made me name it that. She helped me write the story of our mother, getting the information out of the old (yet beautiful) dyslexic woman. Mother doesn’t remember the name of the president very well but she can tell you her story with such detail that you feel everything that she felt. Her guidance has helped me and my sister out through this book.

All the way from reading her books and asking her in person. I hope you enjoyed this story. It was hard due to me and Adelaila’s daughter kept erasing it over and over. The story of my mother keeps inspiring me to this day and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Until my next story my readers.

Sincerely,

Your Author Danielle.

^this is how I picture Jen and Sylvie having fun when they become bf and gf (before they got married basicaly).

#my random stories #hope you liked it #sylvie pauline

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themosleyreview · 3 years

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The Mosley Review: Loki (Season 1)

If there's one character that I thought had a great arc and ended exactly where he should've, its Loki. For over the past decade, he has been the most prolific Marvel Cinematic Universe villain that was so much fun to watch and his end was tragic and glorious. Once it was announced that he would be getting his own series, I wasn't looking forward to it. We all knew that it was gonna splinter off from the moment he took the tesseract in Avengers: Endgame and eventually circle back around. I thought the character had lived past his means story wise and I'm here to say that I was completely wrong. The Marvel tv series offer us a deeper understanding of each character and this series was no different. I thought Loki's arc was excellent in the films, but now his entire life is completely flipped upside down. I loved the doubling down on time travel and how we see an organization that keeps the timeline on track. These series have expanded the universe in such fascinating and smart ways that not only have ramifications to the MCU, but also gives multiple layers of character development in such intimate ways.

Tom Hiddleston returns as our favorite MCU villain Loki and he was better then ever. Tom has taken this character from being the constant malevolent, mischievous dominator to someone you can't take your eyes off of. Loki goes through such a drastic shift in personality that by the end he is humbled. I loved that we get inside of what goes on in his head and the amount of humanity that resides in his heart. It is truly the most fully realized Loki has ever been and the best performance Hiddleston has given as the character. Owen Wilson joins the MCU as the investigator assigned to Loki, Mobius. I loved his detective skills and he has such an average Joe vibe that was so refreshing. The moment he meets Loki is when the show really takes off. The two of them together are fantastic and their chemistry is straight out of a great detective story or even a buddy cop film. Wilson is so charismatic as the character and he shines the most during the many conversations he has with Loki. Their bond is so strong and you couldn't imagine the series without the them together. Wunmi Mosaku is always fantastic and as Hunter B-15, she shows strength, fortitude and at times wisdom. Gugu Mbatha-Raw was excellent as the judge for TVA, Ravonna Renslayer. She commands the screen in every scene and her friendship with Mobius was great. You since the respect they have for each other, but also a few moments where there’s more than just friendship between them. Tara Strong was fun as Miss Minutes and I loved her bubbly way of explaining all of the rules and exposition. Even though she is fun, helpful and bubbly, at times she comes off as a creepier version Mr. DNA in a few scenes toward the end of the season. Sophia Di Martino was outstanding as Sylvie. Since this show deals with different realms and universes, she is a variant of our Loki. She captures the vengeful nature of the character and I loved her physicality in all of her fight scenes. The more you start to find out about her backstory, the more she is intriguing and similar to our Loki. Once they're on screen together, it is magic. I loved that even though they're different in belief structures, they are almost one in the same. Their bond is so strong and you get a bit of a love story which was fun because Loki is essentially falling in love with himself.

The score by Natalie Holt was fantastic and reminded me of 90's B movies with a hint of a spiritual hymn. Its haunting, soothing, suspenseful and I loved every bit of it. It has been tough for Marvel to have themes that are distinguishable from the rest, but this score I’ll always be able to pick out. The cinematography of the show is beautiful and I liked how the TVA was bland and sterile in its color scheme. This series was the lowest on my anticipated list of Marvel series to come and I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked it. It was a deep dive into a character that has evolved exponential past what’ve known. The first season is now streaming on Disney+ if you haven't watched it yet. Definitely stick around for the end credits scene on Episode 4 and the season finale. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

#Loki #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #gugu mbatha raw #tara strong #wunmi mosaku #richard e grant #marvel

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srnevergivesup · 7 years

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If you really want to help: less talking and more listening please

Be positive

Be grateful

Stop dwelling on the past

Here is what you need to do ...

Did you try to have a bath, a walk, read, go to therapy, pray more, take some vitamins(the list is endless)?

Don't worry so much!

Why don't you work? It will distract you.

Here, above, are some of the things well meaning people can can tell me that send me off the roof. I understand they want to help me but, please stop! Stop, because it hurts!

I used to have friends who thought they knew me well enough and thought they knew exactly what I needed to do regarding my recovery. They tried to fix me by giving endless solutions, endless advice, endless opinions and endless BS!

The thing is for a very long time, I thought everybody knew better than I did so I listened and trusted. As I grew stronger within myself though, I started to make my own decisions by following my intuition. How do I feel today? What do I need right at this moment? Does that feel right? Does this advice makes sense to me? If it didn't feel right, I started to voice my feelings, make my own my mind up, followed my own path. I started to set boundaries. believe me some of these "Friends" didn't like it. They wanted me to heal, and quickly please. My way of managing my recovery is gentle and some thought I needed a good kick up the bum. They thought they could give me some "tough love". They weren't happy that I didn't need them as much anymore so I decided I didn't need them anymore. Some got really angry, rude and even abusive towards me.

This is what I noticed throughout the years: those friends with the strongest opinions, the ones who are brutally honest and ready to find the solution to my challenges have always been , in one degree or another,in denial about their own stuff. "Leave the past in the past", "Just move on," one told me when he wasn't even capable to leave an abusive realtionship. "You don't want to get better, do you?" another told me when she was still (secretely) suffering from Bullimia. "Oh just forget about it all and have fun!" said a friend who had major grieving issues she couldn't face, so she drunk a lot and laughed at everything and at everybody.

I am not critisizing their journey and the way they dealt with it. I am critisizing their hurtful behaviour. I too was in denial for years, I too was hurting but, did I make me an expert on everybody else's journey? No. Did it excuse my sometimes shitty behaviour? No.

Before telling someone to take full responsibility for their lives, please, make sure YOU take responsibility for yours. I beg of you!!

It is a co-dependency thing: people focus on someone else's problems because it is too hard to focus on theirs. Here is the thing: when some people give unsolicited advice or pearls of wisdom, they might do so so they feel they have helped. It makes them feels good. And hopefully, the other person will change and thank them for it. It isn't being helpful, it is being controlling.

I know because I am a recovering co-dependent. Loving people into recovery and happiness was my thing. Now I know better - most of the time - there is no such thing as perfection - and I think twice before I open my mouth. I learned to be present and to listen!! I learned to have a bit more respect for other people's journey. And I only ask for one thing: that others respect mine.

If I meet someone who has been through or is going through something I don't know nothing about, I don't just come up with ramdon things to say just to make me feel like I was useful. And I feel it is important to get to know someone better as to not cross boundaries. And I ask that if you don't know me very well, please, don't jump into conclusion that I need rescuing. I have been dealing with my mental health for awhile now and it isn't you who only knows me for 5 hot mintues who are going to make my Depression, Anxiety and PTSD and sleepless night better. Yes, sometimes, I have bad days. I am very often tired and need a lot of rest. One day I feel like I can conquer the world and others, I hide under my duvet and watch Netflix. I need to plan my days carefully so I don't over do it and get overwhelmed. This is another symptoms of PTSD. A "Don't worry so much" isn't going to cure my Anxiety either. Believe me, I'd love stop worrying!! I am getting better at not to over thinkink.

It took me so long to reach a point of acceptance witht he fact that my recovery is and will be every single day for the rest of my life. I accept that I might never have a good night sleep. It might change or it might not. I am working on living well with these challenges.

A bath might sooth me, a walk might refresh me, a book might distract me for a few minutes but, will those things cure my Depression, Anxiety and PTDS? No. Drinking milk, lavender inscent, sleeping pills, meditation before bed are all very nice but they don't stop my recusing nightmares or my night panic attacks.

I have been feeling angry recently towards some people I loved dearly - starting by my "Mother"- who thought they could just tell me how to deal with my mental (and physical) health when themselves, they needed to look after themselves. They hurt me deeply. I am not very good at feeling and at facing my anger but I thought that it was important for me to do so before I start projecting this anger to the people around me. "Please leave me alone and do what you need to do for your happiness and well being." I was screaming in my head. Yes, I might not alaways no where I am going or what I am doing but, it is all part of my process.

A friend of mine has been through a lot this year. There is a lot of grieving involved as well as mental and physical health challenges. She's been told to move on, not to dwell on things for too long. She got annoyed at these people giving her BS advices when all she needs right now is to be heard, to be held, to rest as much as she can. A friend of hers asked her" What can we do or say to help?" NOTHING.

"That is the problem right there, isn't it? People feel like they need to do or say something, or think about waht we should do to get better." I said to my friend

We agreed that they don't need to do or say anything. Just sit down, hold a hand, give a hug (if appropriate), open your ears and heart to listen to what is being said. Be present.

"It is nice they want to help but there is usually nothing they can do and what a lot of us really need is for people to accept that" She replied.

Also: "If you want a therapist (or a doctor I want to add), you will get one, but friends and partnes aren't supposed to be that. Unless otherwise specified."

So now, you know.

Sylvie

#unsolicitedadvice #Mentalhealth #Chronicillnesses #Depression #anxiety #PTSD #Panicattacks #sleeplessnight #communicationskills #Respect #friendships #Support #awareness

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hailey-halstead · 7 years

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Learning Experience

hi guys! here is the shorter fic i have been working on :) i don't own anything! ——————— "God do we need these shots," Antonio grumbled as Herrmann placed four glasses in front of him, Nagel, Stone, and Valdez. "Thanks." He nodded to the firefighter, who was holding a sympathetic smile on his face. Obviously he had heard from the grapevine what had gone down in the courtroom earlier today. "Total bullshit." Herrmann began to rage. "That guy should have been thrown in jail, what the hell was wrong with that judge—" Before Herrmann could continue, Stone swiftly cut in to stop him. Antonio assumed trash talking a judge wasn't viewed highly in the attorney's eyes, especially in a public place. "It's done and over with, unfortunately." He sighed, downing the shot in front of him. "One of worst people I've ever ran into though. No doubt he killed that girl." "So that's it?" Valdez spoke up, giving Stone a puzzling look. "You're not pushing for more for the bastard?" "No evidence, apparently." To Antonio's amazement, Stone was seeming the least bothered of them all. "But I plan on going in other direction so this doesn't happen again. At least in the aspect of getting justice." Antonio and Nagel exchanged looks of confusion, but Valdez knew exactly what he was talking about. "Good." She nodded her head with approval. "If we didn't have work tomorrow I would be getting so drunk right now," Nagel muttered into her glass, unlike Stone sipping it little by little. But when Herrmann returned with another round, she quickly grabbed ahold of one, as if someone else was going to take two. "Did you hear about your sister?" Herrmann asked softly, the tone of his voice immediately catching Antonio's attention. Usually Herrmann was blunt and straightforward, this side of him had him concerned. And of course, the question he asked did as well. "No, I didn't." He pushed his drinks aside, leaning more over the bar counter. "Tell me what happened." The question came out more like a demand, but he wasn't in the mood for apologizing. Why didn't Herrmann say something right when he came into the bar? "You know that they had a trainee the other day, right?" Herrmann asked. Antonio quickly nodded, wanting the older man to continue. Gabby told him about having a trainee a few days ago, just a small piece of the conversation they had. But Herrmann didn't continue, instead shifting his eyes to his right. Antonio followed them, seeing his three co-workers not hiding their interest. He couldn't blame them, he would be doing the same exact thing if he was in their shoes. He particularly didn't want to keep thinking about Jackson Clark. "It's fine, go on." He was more concerned with hearing about Gabby than having a private conversation. "The trainee ended up trying to give someone CPR, cracked one of his ribs. Brett and Dawson ended up covering for him." Herrmann took the empty shot glasses and placed them behind the bar. "They have to take retraining classes." "That's it?" Antonio couldn't hold back his surprise. By the sound of it, it seemed like Gabby was in some kind of distress. "Oh, that's not how Gabby views it." Herrmann shook his head while getting a beer for another patron. "I bet you can guess how she's taking all of this." "Not well." Gabby was probably furious. He could imagine it perfectly, and the admittedly hilarious thought made one side of his lips curl upward. "Speak of the devil..." Herrmann gestured with his chin to someone behind Antonio. Before he could turn around, an enraged Gabby plopped herself down in the stool next to him. He couldn't help but notice the blonde hair of Sylvie Brett on her other side. How was she taking all of this, he couldn't help but wonder. They broke up awhile ago, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. Did she think about him too...? His inner musings were interrupted by Gabby starting to complain. He quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts of Sylvie, giving his sister his attention. "Did you hear?" She asked with a scowl. He opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't give him any time to respond. During this time, he met Sylvie's eyes. Unlike her partner, she didn't seem as ticked off. They exchanged smiles, a silent greeting. Gabby continued on ranting. "—it's ridiculous! Quite insulting actually!" Antonio decided to interrupt her, knowing that was the only way he was going to get a word in. "You could use it as a learning experience." He offered, trying to give her some big brother wisdom. "You can become a better paramedic because of this—" "I'm the best damn paramedic out there!" Gabby declared, slamming her hand on the bar counter in frustration. "I don't need any stupid classes to teach me anything!" She glanced over at Sylvie, who looked simply amused. "No offense." "None taken." She shrugged. Her easygoing demeanor made Antonio wonder why she wasn't acting the same way as Gabby. She had to have a different perspective on retaking classes. "You don't seem to be too upset." He decided to bring up, cocking his head at Sylvie. He ignored the face Gabby was making in between them. Just because she was already upset didn't mean she had to throw a fit that her brother and her partner were talking to each other. She should be able to be more relaxed now that they have been broken up for awhile. Antonio realized his mistake on assuming Gabby was bothered by them talking, as she revealed her true feelings when she began to speak. "She isn't! She's actually excited!" She exclaimed, gathering the attention of nearby patrons. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Stone, Valdez, and Nagel listening to their conversation. Normally, Gabby would lower her voice when she noticed others were listening, but she was not on that state of mind. She was on a rampage. "So it's even harder to be going through this because I'm the only one complaining—" "I'm sorry! I can't help that I love to learn! And take any opportunity possible for me to become a better paramedic!" Sylvie interrupted, flushed with both embarrassment and frustration. To his own surprise, she extended her whole arm to grab his shot, swallowing it in one attempt. "Was my drink good?" He couldn't help but ask, one eyebrow raised. His question flustered his ex even more, who he could tell was just now processing her action. "Sorry, I'll buy you another one." She brought her purse onto the counter, shuffling through for what Antonio presumed her wallet. "I just saw the drink and reacted—and yeah, it was pretty good." When she tried to hand over money, he shook his head, rejecting her offer. "No need." He said as he rose his hand to wave Herrmann over. "I'll get you two drinks, you had a rough day. Well, Gabby did." He corrected himself. "Maybe I shouldn't get you one then." "Hey, I'm not one to turn away free drinks." She smiled at him, stuffing her money back into her wallet. "But I'm afraid that Gabby has ditched us." She pointed to a table on the other side of the bar. His sister was in a booth, Matt Casey's arm over her shoulder. Hardly a surprising sight. He couldn't help but wish she had given him some type of warning that she was going to leave him alone with Sylvie, as he now felt slightly blindsided. "More for me then." He managed to get out the words, concealing his nerves. Luckily, Herrmann brought them two beers in a matter of seconds. Antonio quickly took a sip, the cold liquid going down his throat immediately soothing him. "How was your day? Any retraining classes for you?" She said a light joke. Being reminded of his frustrating day made him make a face. Her face fell, but it was her next action that surprised him more. She took Gabby's empty bar stool, now shoulder to shoulder with him. "What happened?" She asked, throwing her hair back over her shoulder. Her familiar scent wafted towards him, and he couldn't help but close his eyes as he tried to prolong the flowery smell. "Antonio?" His eyes shot back open when she called his name. She was leaning closer to him, head tilted to the side. "Are you okay? We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to?" "No, no, it's fine." He allowed himself to take another sip of his beer. "It was a frustrating case. Douchebag of a guy. Jury said he was guilty of murder, judge overturned it. Never like to see people like that get to walk free." "Antonio." Stone had a warning tone in his voice. Antonio looked past Nagel to meet Stone's eyes. "That's all I was going to say." He argued with the attorney. "I know what you had just told Herrmann." When he returned his gaze back on Sylvie, she seemed uncomfortable. Apparently she hadn't realized that his co-workers were on the other side of him. "I didn't know that you had company," She apologized, beginning to get out of her seat. "I can go—" His hand shot out to grab her elbow before she could get away. "No, stay." He said, before letting go of her, wanting to not seem so desperate. "I mean, I've been enjoying spending time with you, it's been awhile." He spoke truthfully, not wanting to skirt around the topic. It's not like he expected or had a goal for them to get back into a relationship now, he simply wanted to talk to her again. And of course, let things go from there. Sylvie's face softened at his honesty. "I've been enjoying talking with you too." She said, but still didn't show any signs of staying, grabbing her beer from the counter. "But it's obvious that you are here with them," She gestured to the trio to Antonio's right. "And I don't want to intrude." She had to know that he prefers her company over his co-workers, who he sees everyday. There was no contest. Plus some feelings for Sylvie were obviously still there, so he definitely wanted to spend more time with her. "You aren't intruding—" He tried to convince her. But to no avail. She wasn't backing down. "Text me later, or call. And if you forget or get busy, I'll just do it." She tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear, the only small sign of her nerves. "Point is, we will talk again soon, right?" She boldly reached out a hand to squeeze his shoulder, and then left to go to where Matt and Gabby were residing, not looking back. He privately wondered if she didn't want to hear his answer. There was no use of pondering, he thought as he swiveled around to face the bar again. Nagel rose her eyebrows at him, the only acknowledgement of his and Sylvie's interaction, to Antonio's relief, before turning her attention back to her phone. He presumed that she was texting her daughter, judging by the look on her face and how she was acting like the device in her hand was the most important thing in the world. Antonio didn't mind being ignored, he was slightly relieved, actually. He could enjoy his beer in silence and also be alone with his thoughts of Sylvie, looking forward to their next encounter.

#my post #brettonio #brettonio fanfiction #brettonio ff #learning experience #antonio #sylvie #herrmann #gabby #stone #nagel #valdez

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