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rainestorm2556 · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1

I sat in the plane reading my book, I‘m incredibly bored….beyond bored really. I’m on my way to Japan. I’m supposed to meet Joseph Joestar and his grandson. My cousin is already waiting for me there. It was supposed to be just a simple trip but DIO, the vampire who was supposed to have died a century ago has awoken, and now Mr. Joestar’s daughter, Holly Kujo, has awakened a stand she can’t control so it’s hurting her. So now he has this little gang and they’re all going to Egypt to defeat Dio. It consists of: him(Joseph Joestar), Mohammad Avdol, my cousin (Noriaki Kakyoin), Caesar Zeppeli, my best friend (his granddaughter Emilia), and Jotaro Kujo. I’m not alone on this plane at least. My grandmother, Carrie, and my grandfather, Henry, are on the plane with me. As well as Caesar and his granddaughter, Emilia who might I just mention again I’m best friends with.

“Jolie, darling, we'll be there soon.” My grandma’s voice rings through the plane. Oh yeah I never introduced myself. I’m Jolie. Jolie Marina Elizabeth Olivia Speedwagon. I come from a prestigious bloodline. Let me explain how it all went down. Way back in the 1800’s Robert Edward Oliver Speedwagon met and fell in love with a bold and courageous woman, Anna Sun-Allaire(she wasn’t married but that was her foster mother’s last name). Robert was a former street thug who decided to help out Jonathan Joestar, Anna Sun was an orphan. So was Robert. They already had that in common. When they had finally defeated Dio(or so they thought at least) they quickly married and had their son, my great grandpa Idris. Idris Felix Rhys Speedwagon was a good man though Anna Sun was pretty overprotective of him. Idris travelled to France one day and he there met the French model Francessca De La Fontaine. He was enchanted by her. She found him intriguing and fell for him so he proposed before the trip was over and she went back to England with him. The two married there and had my grandfather, Henry. Francessca decided on his name apparently. My grandfather had to go on a trip to defeat some Aztec stripper gods with Joseph Joestar and there he met my grandma, Carrie Medici, her family basically funded the Renaissance. After knowing her for a week my grandpa proposed(please tell me you’re also seeing the trend of these people getting married crazy fast) and she of course said yes and when he had finished helping Joseph Joestar the two were married in London. They had two kids, my dad Robert(named for my great great grandfather), and my aunt Eliza. My dad married a Hispanic woman with a not-very-Hispanic-sounding-name(I know it’s weird), her name is Alisha and she’s my mom. My aunt Eliza married a man named Itsuki Kakyoin and they had my cousin(who might I mention is like 3 months younger than I am) Noriaki. I had an older sister, Lisette, but she was killed a few years back. It really affected my mom and older brother Finneas, and after that I just knew I couldn’t bring myself to be at home so I packed my bags and moved to London with my grandparents. Nori, Em, and I have always been really close. Here’s some more about me: I’m 17(I’ll be 18 on December 21st), I was born Willow Sage but I started going by Jolie three years ago. Alisha…...hasn’t always been the best mom but even so I still love her, the same goes for my dad. Lisette was older than me by four years. I love singing, dancing and acting. I have a manager, Becky. I want to be a pop star, I have green eyes, my hair is naturally brown but to fit in better with my dad’s family I bleached it blonde almost three years ago. My hair is also wavy but I flat-iron it a lot. I have tan skin and I’m 5’8.5 I guess now I’ll describe what I’m wearing. I’m wearing my hair down with a navy blue top hat that has a black bow on it, a jumpsuit that’s black in the front and white in the back, a navy blue pleated skirt, a black belt with a golden heart buckle and black combat boots. Another thing: I can use hamon and I have a stand, the same goes for Emilia. Her stand is Van Halen and mine….doesn’t have a name yet. I also have a lot of food allergies so I have to be really careful about what I eat.

“Bambina we’re almost there, how are you holding up?” Caesar asks me.

“I’m okay, just nervous is all. For one I haven’t seen Joseph since he stopped training me in hamon and after finding out all that stuff about him I’m disappointed, and then I’ve never met his grandson and you said he’s not entirely fluent in English, right?” What stuff? Him being friends with some Nazi named Stroheim and them helping each other out…..

“Certo.”

“What if we can’t communicate? I won’t know what he’s saying, I can’t speak Japanese.”

“Joseph and your cousin can translate.”

“I guess.” Our plane lands signaling that we’ve arrived in Japan. I grab my bag and a limo immediately pulls up to drop us off at the Kujo household.

We step out and I’m immediately introduced to the group by Joseph��.after Carrie greets him of course.

“Joseph, how’ve you been? How’s Suzie?”

“Good, we’re good, I’m just concerned for Holly.”

“Of course.” Carrie responds.

“Everyone this is Jolie, Caesar, and Emilia. They’ll be joining us.”

“A pleasure to meet you Miss Speedwagon, I’ve heard wonderous things about you, I am Mohammad Avdol, I am a fortune teller.”

“You can just call me Jolie.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Jolie.”

“You too, Kakyoin.” The tall, tan one, with black, curly hair and blue-green eyes says nothing to me. I guess he must be Jotaro. Everyone greets Emilia and Caesar and then Avdol asks to name our stands.

“It’s quite simple, just pull a card from the deck and it’ll tell me what your stand is and what the abilities are.” If I’m going to be stuck with these bozos I may as well have my fun.

“I don’t have a stand, sir. I’m a skilled fighter but I don’t have a stand.” A complete lie. I motion for him to get closer to me and he bends down so I can whisper something in his ear. “I do have one but I’m going to have my fun with it. It does need a name though I suppose.”

“I see well despite this being a serious mission I’ll keep your little secret.” He whispers and winks at me. I carefully take a card from the deck. And I get……THE MOON?!?!?!? I LIKE CELESTIAL THINGS BUT JOTARO GOT THE STAR-

AND WHAT GOES WITH THE STARS? THE MOON! THAT WOULD MEAN……OH HELL NO, HE’S A JERK! A big, buff, strong, handsome jerk……BUT STILL A JERK! Carrie clears her throat to remind me of what I’m supposed to do. I take the Manila folder I’m holding and I hand it over to Caesar. “My file.” I say simply. Here’s what a file is: it’s all the important information about a person like their name, birthday, social security number, appearance, any health issues or allergies, height, weight, medical records, any health conditions, and prescribed medications, who their doctor is, any mental disorders, what their upbringing was like, etc. So y’know, important stuff. Carrie instructed me to give it to either Joseph or Caesar upon our arrival. This wouldn’t be such a problem if not for what exactly happened with my medical history. I can’t see out of my right eye, and I’m missing part of my right lung. About 25% I believe, two lobes. (One lung has two lives and the other has three) And let’s just say……well Joseph knows this I believe but he disappointed me a lot with what I’ve found out about him. I lock eyes with Jotaro for a split second then quickly look away. Okay I’ll admit he’s attractive, but I don’t even really know him, there’s nothing between us. I bet we don’t even have the slightest thing in common. As this trip goes on I’ll see if maybe we could be a thing but I don’t think so….chances are slim to none. Besides with those looks he could have any girl he wanted, in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if he already has a girlfriend. For all I know he could be homophobic and I’m bisexual. I know I probably seem like one of those bi girls, but I’m sure of this. I’ve known since I was like eleven. Little fun fact about me: I’m a hopeless romantic. I want that white Picket fence lifestyle. Loving husband(or wife, partner/spouse of life leads me in that direction) who’s always home, four kids, a yard to watch them play in with a dog, a porch swing, I want the ideal, stress-free life. I’m not willing to give up on love yet, but I’m close to ready after what happened with my ex, Sofia. And then I’ve been on and off with this guy Josh for a while, though I ended things for good about a month ago. I’ve….dated around, but I’ve found nothing but heartbreak so far. I know most people would say that I’m young and I shouldn’t give up on love so early, but if you’d been cheated on, lied to, and threatened in previous relationships I think you’d be just about as ready as I am to give up on love. I probably come across as just another spoiled, privileged, rich girl, and I am in a sense, but there’s more to me than people know. I may have had everything handed to me on a golden platter, but that doesn’t define me. I made myself a promise, and time is running out. I want to be married and done having kids by the time I’m thirty. If not then I’ll just stay single forever unless the right one magically comes along and swoops me off my feet into some fairytale life. But that’s never gonna happen and I’ve already come to terms with that. My ex, Sofia, she….she really hurt me. I won’t get into specifics but let’s just say I’m left with a broken, likely irreparable heart, trauma, and a fear of getting back into another relationship……

We head to the airport which signals the start of our journey. This is sure to be interesting……….. Hopefully we can just get this done and over with.

A/N: the picture is Jolie's stand, Ivory Moon. Welcome my friends, to The Stardust Crusaders Project

As promised here's the playlist: link

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freshstartbaby · 4 years ago

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Chapter 3

PREVIOUS PART

Lux - Easy

“Save appearances and you save everything.”

« I quitted the job ». Those words were resonating in Florian's head. He tried to think about anything else, like the man he just killed and make sure he didn't forget any clue. But he couldn't. He was thinking about this sentence and what it really means.

He kept washing his hands, trying to remove the blood from it. Whose blood was it ? The man who snitched on him. Yea, Florian said he will take care of it, so he took care of it.

It was supposed to be a quick and clean job and it started that way. A single head bullet. But Florian lost his cold blood when had to make the body disappear.

He thought about Rebecca's last sentence and things became messy. His moves became less precise and more animalistic. So now he was in his bathroom, trying to get rid of some blood.

Once he was done, he took a shower and got back to his bedroom with his towel around his waist. First he sitted and then he let his upper body crash on the bed. His eyes started to close slowly when he heard some heels steps on the floor.

« Flo is that you ? » a voice said in the hallway

Florian opened his eyes when the door moved and revealed his wife.

« Hey » she said softly « I didn't know you were home »

She laid down on her husband's side and left a peck on his lips before putting her head on his bare chest. Florian put a hand on her back and grabbed it slightly.

« Your mum called, her, your father and your brothers will be there in few weeks» she said quietly

« That's a good news» Florian said, eyes still closed

« You left early this morning » Elizabeth said caressing his arm with her fingertips

« Yea, I got few things to do » he said shutting back his eyes

Things to do. Business to handle. Elizabeth was used to those kinds of answers. She was aware of illegal stuff his husband and her own family was in. So she was satisfied with this kind of answer. The less she knew, the better it was. But deep down, she knew something else was bothering her husband.

Suddenly, she blamed herself for thinking that way. She had this feeling for some years now but come on, it had been less than three days that he was just out of jail. He must have a lot on his mind. Maybe he needed time to re adapt.

Her fingers kept traveling on his skin. Seeing him that way gave her naughty thoughts. Indeed they had some business to catch up on their own. Even if she could have conjugal visits, it wasn't the same. Now that he was out, they could go back on trying having a baby.

Maybe it would work this time.

But Elizabeth also thought about how many times pregnancy tests were failed.

She sat up straight in a second. She seated up and started going towards the bathroom

« I got you a new phone, he is in the living room » she said to Florian before closing the bathroom door and locking it.

His eyes opened quickly when he earned the lock. He knew what she was doing when the door was locked. He knew it for years now.

In fact, once the door is locked, she will go to the cabinet. Grab the gold little box. Drop white power on the flat surface in two or three lines. Sniff it. Put some on her upper gum. Put back the little box where it was. Flush the toilet. Wash her hand and exit the bathroom.

And it was exactly what happened.

Florian got up feeling powerless about the situation. He got dressed and went to the living room. Once he grabbed the new phone Florian crashed on the couch. He needed to send a text to Rebecca.

While the phone was turning on, Elizabeth was back in the living room. Without his eyes leaving the screen Florian told her

« Now that I am back, maybe you could get back on at least trying to consume less »

—-

On her side Rebecca was visiting her family with Youri. It's been few months since she hasn't. And with everything that's going on she felt the need of being surrounded by hers.

Her mother, her father and her siblings were there. Rebecca would rather her father not to be here but she could tolerate his presence. To be honest the bold personalities of her mother and her relatives would make him disappear in the conversation.

Rebecca has a little sister of 24, Brianna, and a little brother of 22 David. Even if they didn't see each other often they were very close.

Brianna was one of the very few person Rebecca used to confess. She was a very good listener and gave very good advice for her age. She wanted to become an artist, indeed she was very talented with photography and had a very unique style in painting.

David was affecting more discipline. He was ending his last year of college and wanted to integrate the army. Which was bothering a lot his mother and his father.

For his mother it was because she knew she wouldn't handle it if her only son was coming back home in a coffin.

For his father it was different. It was because he always had despise black people who were stupid enough to wanted to fight for a country who didn't want them. He used to be an activist himself and had very little thought about a lot of things.

Not that all of them were wrong. But it has the power to upset Rebecca. Actually she had two triggering subject with her father: the art of being a good black person and interracial relationship.

Rebecca always found it funny that her father had so much passion when he was talking about being a black person with dignity, when she knew very well he wasn't a good person at all.

When grew in her 20's she understood that being an adult was a tough thing and that nobody was perfect. But she also remembered well all the day and night when her father was beating her mother almost to death. She remembered the bruised face of her mother, the moment when she couldn't even talk because of the pain. And with all of that in mind the big speech of being a good black person was just empty.

During the dinner when he was speaking, Rebecca couldn't help but look at him with lousiness. If he could only shut up. His presence was bothering her so much.

Her biggest regret in life was that she couldn't convince her mother to leave him. He didn't deserve one percent of that lady.

« The things is that black women think that white men can make them integrate the society more easily, give them a statut, that's why they neglected black men » Robert said

The conversation was not running about this subject at all and an awkward silence took over the place. Rebecca looked at her mother, warning her with a look that she wasn't letting this type of shit go away.

« Robert, could you, please, do not make those types of statement in front of Youri » Rebecca said in a calm voice

« Why ? Because his father is white ? That's not my problem he needs to know the truth »

« Ok let change the subject » Brianna said while taking a sip of water

« No no please Robert, what truth are you talking about exactly ? » Rebecca said

Robert looked at Youri then back at Rebecca

« Look we have a very clear exemple here, you have a baby with a white man. But the least that I know is that he is not really around since a good time. And nobody wants to talk about it. If a black man would have acted like that the whole world would have blamed him. Moreover look at you, showing of about your son talking German like it will make him more white than he is, or making you more white that you already sound»

« Robert ! » Maya finally said looking at him like crazy

He had gone well too far.

Rebecca looked at Youri making sure that he didn't understand everything. He looked a little bit lost about the situation and looked at her wondering what was going on.

« First of all, this is the last time I allow you to talk about my son. I hope that it is clear enough because if you even try to pronounce his name I would beat you ass with my own hand. My relationship with Florian is very messy. But you know what ? Men are trash, I have learnt that a long time ago. It is just that some of them won't be by your side and others will try to kill you with their own hands. Like you used to do it so well. I have picked my poison. » Rebecca said

« Ok stop, let's end this con-« Maya said trying to calm the situation now that everyone has said what what's on their mind

« And for god sake stop thinking black women need men to be someone, we clearly need no one to shine-«

Rebecca was cut by the buzz of her phone

Henry Cavill:

Hi Rebecca, I hope you and Youri are alright. Just letting you know that I'll be in NYC in two weeks. I hope we can spend some time together. Call me when you got time

Take care

Hen

She blew heavily at the end of the text. It wasn't exactly the good moment. She deleted the message and put her phone back on the table.

Everyone was looking at her.

« You know what, never mind, just forget everything that I have said »

Her phone buzzed another time. She rolled her eyes hoping that it was Henry again.

Unknown:

Becky, this is my new number.

Kiss Youri for me.

See you soon

This time Rebecca doesn't look upset. She blinked slowly and saved the number before putting back the phone on the table. The text wasn't signed, but she knew from who it was obviously.

« Should we start the dessert ? » she said looking at her mother with a small smile.

Everyone seems to relax, happy that at least one of them would end the conversation.

Rebecca is a resentful woman and never has a good relationship with her father. But since she had troubles with Florian, it seems like his father liked to use it against her. And against Youri. It was driving her crazy.

It really killed her that he could come to Youri. Sometimes she asked herself what would have happened if she wasn't weak that night.

—-

Few years ago

It was near 2:00 AM. Rebecca was sitting on the carpet of her living room. Working on some project she has been thinking about lately. She rather put her time in some ideas than being in her empty bed.

She felt lonely. She often felt that way lately. But tonight the feeling was coming at her strong. Headaches, goosebumps, freezing, tears ready to drop for any stupid reason.

She inhaled the smoke of her cigarette when her door rang. Her eyebrows frowned at this sound. She put down her cigarette and got up before walking through the front door.

Her heart dropped when she looked in the door's hole. What the hell was he doing here. A cold sweat took over Rebecca's body in one second.

« Becky, it's me, open the door » Florian said close to the door

Rebecca's breath wasn't stuck in her throat. She hasn't talked or even seen him for months now. And it was better that way. They weren't together anymore. Their friendship had died with their relationship. And now he was a married man. There was no reason for them to catch up.

« What do you want ? You're not supposed to be here. » Rebecca said, the door still closed

« We need to talk Becky »

« Stop calling me that way, you should go home »

« Please, let us have this conversation. We can't keep avoiding it. »

« I don't have anything to say. Really, you should go home »

« Really Beck ? You don't have anything to say »

« I don't. » she tried to say putting her hand in front of her mouth so he can't eared her crying

But it was a lie. One of the biggest she had said this year. She felt over sensitive tonight. And it's the night he found to show up, finally.

She had a lot to say and she was weak.

« Well I have and I miss you. » Florian said behind the door

Her cries became harder after this sentence. Pain was taking over her. She missed him too. So much. If he only knew.

Rebecca quickly wiped her tears and tried to fix her face when she finally opened the door.

Now face to face, she could see him perfectly in his all black nike jumpsuits and his open camo puffy jacket. Hood on his head, she almost had forgotten how much she likes his face.

Now face to face, he could finally face reality and see how badly he hurted the woman he was in love with.

He was so ashamed. He had done this. He was the reason why tears were all over her pretty face.

Their body crashed. While Rebecca buried her face in his torso, back to crying, Florian hugged her back tightly and caressed her head.

« I am so sorry baby. I am so sorry »

You left me. I trusted you. You broke me.

It's what Rebecca wished she could say. But the noises she made while she was crying stopped her. She started breathing hard.

« Hey I'm right there baby. Look at me, look, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours. » Florian said, lifting her chin with one of his hands so she could look at him in his eyes.

I'm yours. In contrast to Rebecca, it was the biggest truth he told. Since he left her few months ago, there was not a single day when he was sure that it was a mistake. A huge one.

He looked at her puffy eyes, still releasing tears. How could he have done this to her. Few seconds dropped before their lips met.

Naked in Rebecca's bed, catching their breath, lovers stayed silent. Realizing the mistake and the consequences of their act. They were both lost in mixed feeling.

For Rebecca, it was the disgust and a kind of release. Disgust because she never thought one second in her life that she could have sex with a married man in purpose. She wasn't like that. At least that is what she thought. She promised herself it was the first and the last time something that serious arrived. But it was too late. It already was the one of too many times.

Release because of what he told her. He was hers. He told her he was hers. What they had wasn't insignificant at the end. She felt a little bit better knowing that she hasn't wrongly judged what they had for years.

For Florian it was different. He felt soothe and trapped. Soothe because he had Rebecca back. He knew it wasn't going to be an easy task. But he had her back. Since the day they stopped talking, everything was just wrong. He needed her by his side. Trapped because now he had to put a mask in front of the most important people of his life: family and love.

That night, Florian came to Rebecca to have a discussion and try to get her forgiveness. But what they have done that night was just about to bury them a little bit more.

—-

« You know, you're daddy ain't wrong » Maya said softly sitting down

« Please Moma can we not do this. « Rebecca said

« I know your daddy isn't blameless. Actually he has made a lot of mistakes, and I'm in the best position to tell you that. »

Rebecca put down the glass she was wiping and looked at her mother, waiting for the next part of her speech.

« But you need to find a solution baby. You can not wait for Florian to commit to you until forever. You have a son together, and we haven't seen him for years. What does that mean for you ? Are you even still with him ? »

« It's complicated Moma »

« He used to be there at every single thanksgiving since you two met, he knows us, he has a baby with you, the least he can do is show up sometimes. »

Rebecca took another glass, trying to keep it together. She knew all of that. She knew it damn well. And she was kind of ashamed of the situation

« Look, you need to fix this situation or tell us the truth. If y'all not together anymore you can tell me baby. It doesn't matter for us. What matters is you being happy and getting full support of us. What's matter is Youri understanding that relationship are not meant to be this way »

Rebecca stayed silent, hardly swallowing. She knew this part of her life was a big mess, and she didn't need her family to put pressure on her for that.

« Look baby, you're a beautiful woman. I'm sure you could easily find someone else. What I mean by that is don't stay trapped in this hole. Fix it or move on. »

Maya was ready to leave the kitchen when she stopped. She looked back at her daughter before saying.

« I want to see him the next time you come, or don't come back at all. »

——

Wassssup yall

Let me know what you think

Elizabeth addiction ?

Rebecca and her father ?

Henry fucking Cavill ?

Xoxo

NEXT PART

liquorlaughslove xsweetdellzx killa-kyootie

#florian munteanu x black reader #florian munteanu #florian big nasty munteanu #thicc daddy flo #florian munteanu headcanons #Big Nasty #apparences

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bookishbea · 5 years ago

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Black Friday Reaction

Okay so I’ll be live tweeting Black Friday but none of it will have any sense to it but it’ll just be my reactions

1. The Paul thing is really bothering me

2. I really love the mention of the other characters

3. If Jane is mention is the story about the mom mentioned some more

4. Is the delivery man ted (cause he’s also a sleazeball

5. It’s weird seeing Cory not play a pure bean

6. I love California MIA

7. The little sister (Im sorry I’m bad at names) I self project as autistic and she something else idk

8. Did anyone else noticed Robert’s Australian accent come out?

9. Like I said this is out of order so yeah but I personally think the second song in the show was very shocking as I’m not used to very serious starkid songs

10. When Robert gestures smoking i think its lowkey a refrence to the smoke club

11. I have a crush on lex

12. I love Lauren’s charecter so much

13. I love the name linda becuase it could be like a karen without using that name

14. Not to get poltical but i choose to belive they made an antivax joke

15. Also the marvel nerd in me loves the name becky barnes

16. I know its probaly not on purpose but joeys charecters costume in line looks like the homeless guy’s one

17. Jaimey is great as always

18. The conversation is so cringe i love it

19. I kinda hope torture porn is a fanfic refrence (i know most people would want me to say spies are forever but nope)

20. I love Lauren but shouldnt her accent be included when she sings

21. I love Jeff’s reaction

22. I may get some hate for this but what was bothering me in tgwdlm and i notice in starkid is lack of fan comments in the captions

23. As a theatre fan i love the toy zone song (i am not sure if thats the right name) espcially the do wop becuase it reminds me of older musicals

24. Also since i watched tgwdlm and black friday a day apart its weird to come from songs happening because they are infected to songs happening cause its a musical

25. i love the love the line we are not relaibly to anyone who dies becuase they clearly show in the trailer that someone will die (this is not a spoiler if you watch the trailer for Black Friday)

26. I love Corey but when he dances i notice a bulge (i am not a perv he makes it very obvious)

27. So i rewinded it to make sure i wanst going crazy and realized something as lex says the pepper spray line. She would be good as janis ian

28. I love the touch money part its so cute even if its not supposed to be

29. Jaime plays a perv really well

30. I love Jon’s charecter its hilarious

31. Also i love jon and lauren interactions so it was cool seeing them together not as paul and emma

32. I love seeing more of Jon because although hes reaally good at playing paul paul doesnt have any flavor and its cool seeing jon do something diffrent

33. Jeff’s fuck you

34. Okay I was right it was the homeless guy and i bet the money is paul’s money

35. And this is not a sterotpye as i am jewish myself but i bet Laurens charecter is jewish

36. Its sad that the price thing is true

37. So i am a theatre fan and do not watch got but that music kinda reminds me of got

38. Cant tell if jeff’s charecter is gay and a perv or just a perv (i realzie this could be mmisinterpreted as homophobic i just mean to say that jamie’s charecter just seems like a full out perv where as i cant tell with jeff’s)

39. Obviously you shouldnt be that insane but i do like the lines about how you are in charge of life and dont care about what others think. its goood life advice

39. Looks like Paul’s boss got his wish

40. They are all idiots for holding up the doll when everyone wants to get it

41. Corey’s charecter is like shit, money isnt that imporant

42. Becky why are you a part of this you have moral high ground (yes i am ignorning the fact that cast usually join in dance numbers even if their charecter isnt a part of it)

43. Shouldnt tom get ptsd (see above)

44. Lex you already have one (see above)

45. So i may be overthinking things but how curt says never should settle is in the tune of spies are forever

46. Is it just me or did anyone else notice when the security guard comes in the tune of show me your hands comes in

47. I dont know why but i do love soft bullies because hes like hey im punching you but only for the kid

48. Some may say its schizo or something hannah has but its anxiery or something from how shes expressing it

49. I feel like hannah has a superpower and can tell whats happening

50. Maybe webby is actually wiggly

51. Baby (both hannah and robert)

52. Please tell me my babies not dead

53. Jon’s eee is adorable and silly

54. Wait hes alive

55. Wait no hes dead, im sad liek starkid is supposed to be fun and happy this is the darkest star kid yet. Even oregon deaths were silly

56. I love starkid but this is making me anxious i cant tell if its good anxious or bad anxious

57. Also i relate to the black and white thing not fully but liek whenever i dont feel well sometimes my brain is overstimulating but only in my head its very hard to explain

58. Also i think sometimes kids on the spectrum and im not an expert but i do have it kind of make a friend in their head and i do that too sometimes just to give me advice

59. Also i hope they dont get rid of the black and white as sometimes people go more crazy without the figurative voice in their head

60. Like i said this is going to be random order so i like that emma adopted paul;s Okay and no im not making a tfios refrence

61. Poor Tim

62. Poor becky but even less

63. i thought they were supposed to be mad at g-d but in this and tgwdlm they like g-d

64. I cant tell the other pins on joey’s jacket but the first two i notice are mr wiggly and paul

65. I love Lauren’s acting you can see the very sublte sadness in her

66. Lauren and Joey together ahhhh

67. I know its probaly not a big deal but they should give a seziure warning before the tv scene

68. Did they reuse curts spies are forever outfit

69. Really starkid the obama refrence seriously, i cant tell if im mad or laughing

70. How did Bob get one

71. I do realize they are talking irl but i cant help but wonder if the nazis were a spies are forever refrence

72. Does wiggly have a special power or something

73. I think its similar to the metero the closer you are the more power it has over you

74. The starkid special effects we all know and love

75. Also is that mcnamara

76. Also maybe shooting it (the doll) does the same thing that shooting the affceted does. Give them no power

77. I cant tell what the music reminds me of exactly but the tune does kinda refrence a diffrent star kid song

78. Jeff looks so proud of himself for the peeps line

79. I love the purposeful i presume reuse of lines

80. Is peip like men in black

81. Also hatchetfield kind of reminds me of night vale

82. Is the black and white like the upside down?

83. I wonder if the point was purposeful since someone was filming or just choreographed

84. Yes Jon Singing!!!!!

85. I love the act two opener

86. Did his parents really name him christmas?!?

87. Oh hes literally related to santa

88. I love lauren and joey as eleves

89. Noel another christmas name

90. Isnt the little dance move like a genie move or something

91. Its so cute that she insitincitvely went to their seats

92. Also carving is goals

93. Even though its a penis its still goals

94. I know what you are, say it, santa clause

95. Tom dont yell at your girl

96. Poor Tom

97. But also dont make this about you

98. They probaly werent the head of the school since they were nice, i am sorry but thats true

99. Yass girl fight his ass

100. Also the theatre kid in me is picturing all that jazz

101. he ran into my knife he ran into my knife ten times

102. Yes Becky’s husband (i forget the name sue me) is bad but i feel like becky is more sinister then we realize

103. Becky’s line even if it isnt meant to be is so funny

104. The girl who plays Becky could play Barbara

105. I love how Joey and Lauren look into the camera

106. Jamie saying santa awww such a pure bean

107. The person in the wiggly onsie is goals

108. Matrix glasses for the win

109. Is wilbur a refrence to Charelots Web?

110. Its a cult a cult of wiggly

111. I feel like Sherman young is around 30-40

112. I love how its mommy to sound less pervy

113. Oh wait never mind Linda is mom

114. Shit thats fucked up they killed him

115. I am right a jew no non jew says mensch

116. To quote jared klienman kinky (shoe kiss scene)

117. Also i love this song the adore song

118. Why does them picking up Lauren give me Draco vibes

119. Wait he isnt dead?? im so confused

120. Wait he is dead???

121. Also ethan is creepy now

122. But Roberts expressions are goals

123. Robert your proffesor hidgens is showing

124. What the how does he know her name

125. Savage Wiggly

126. Wiggly is more funny than scary

127. But my poor baby dont be scared

128. What the fuck tom

129. Also poor baby number two

130. At first you think becky is made about him hurting a child but no its about the doll

131. What the fuck Becky

132. Also I wonder if thats the same serum that Hidgens used

133. Tom yelling at the audince is hilarious

134. Also Becky singing is giving me little shop vibes

135. Becky are you drunk or something you so stupid

136. But yayy my baby doesnt get hurt

137. More starkid special effects

138. Also the lighting nod to tgwdlm

139. Also why did they take my baby (see i told you random)

140. So the perv is wiggly

141. Also if he can appear in regular formation on earth why does he need to be the doll

142. Oh wait never mind he explains it

143. Joey talking to the audience and making them hold the apple is goals

144. I love Joey’s song

145. MIA = Missing in Action = Made in America

146. Wait im wrong Joey cant be Wiggly unless he has super powers he cant be in two places at once

147. I know they dont mean sex but still wtf

148. Lauren looks so done i cant

149. Seziure warning after mr presidnet leaves the black and white

150. Unless it was purposeful they should have hidden the dolls better backstage

151. Wait didnt hannah say something about two doors earlier?

152. Seriously Sherman ponies

153. I love the going back line

154. My poor baby lex

155. No Lex dont die not you too

156. Haha throwback to tgwdlm

157. Yes baby you got the gun

158. Also die perv die

159. Eagle screeching is goals

160. Yes lex use that logic

161. Also it makes sense only the adults can be brainwashed

162. There were only adults no children, scary (not sarcastic i promise)

163. Seriously starkid Fortnight

164. Thats why you should never fully grow up

165. Woah what Lex says is deep

166. Yessss Tom

167. Wait Tom dont hold the gun

168. Wait is Charolette alive or just a reuse of costume, if so why would they have jaimie wear it

169. No dont take her magic hat

170. Haha stupid hats cant be magic only dolls obviously

171. Does lauren say something like fucking knife in another show too?

172. Lauren screaming gives me my father will hear about this vibes

173. Also give my baby her hat back

174. Yass Lauren get it girl (i do realize shes playing the villian but still)

175. Yass Robert get it

176. Even though shes a viilain i dont like seeing Lauren get killed

177. But also how did they get the bullet wound on her so quick im impressed

178. Haha the way Gary stops everything to talk to gerald is goals

179. Like hes like oh shit money

180. And then hes like oh wait i have to pretend to care

181. I love how exagerated their dying is

182. Thats an impressive quick change

183. Yess Emma Hidgens

184. But also no hell fuck up again

185. Also Paul interupting is goals

186. Haha hannah you go girl

187. First off I love the song

188. Song off Hannah’s voice

189. Is paul scared normal or because of the hive

190. Wait all the tgwdlm charecters are back like nothing happened im confused

191. Haha the Hatchfield band is back

#black friday #starkid #tickle me wiggly #the guy who didn't like musicals

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 89

Chapter Summary - Danielle stays in Ireland to deal with the house situation as Tom heads back for the Kong Skull Island premiere.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle sat waiting in the solicitor's office, a cup of tea on the table next to her, a small but significant piece of paper under her hand. She thought of how she had dropped Tom to the airport that morning, telling him she would be home in less than a week hopefully, that she would see him before he went on the international part of the Kong Tour.

Again she looked at the small piece of paper in her hand, it had taken Tom another two minutes to convince her it was the right thing to do, and a small call to NatWest to confirm that yes, given her credit history and the fact she had her house as collateral, she very much was guaranteed the loan. So with a small transfer and a trip to her Credit Union, she and Tom were able to hold the piece of paper that meant that she would get to pay for her aunt's part of the house. Tom smiled as she looked at it, clearly ecstatic as to what it meant for her. When he had asked her what was her plans, she simply shrugged and stated the other half, when she could.

She was brought back to the present by the sound of people walking down the hallway towards her. She knew by the irked voice of one that it was her aunt, she inhaled deeply and waited for the door to open. When Bernadette entered the room, she looked angrily at Danielle. "What do you want? I suppose you are going to try and stop me from forcing the sale?"

"Just sit down, Bernie," Danielle growled.

"You have no respect," The woman commented, but she did what was required. "Where is the solicitor gone?"

"To get the last of the paperwork."

"What paperwork and what would you know, you dropped out of college, Mattie was too soft on you, you went on to do nothing."

"I would disagree, I have a great paying job, I have a nice home and a good hard-working boyfriend, things are very much going well for me Bernie, not that I am overly bothered by your opinion, though I do use it to gauge things. What you find to be terrible and anger, I know my father would have approved of, so thank you for setting my concerns to rest." Danielle smiled sweetly just as the solicitor re-entered the room.

"Right, so it is a fair swap really, nothing of great note, you Danielle Hughes, are offering the whole twenty-five thousand euro share of the house at Droichead Beag, Connemara, Galway to Bernadette Whelan, your aunt and on her accepting, she is signing over her share of the building and her legal rights to it. That is the general gist of this." The solicitor explained.

Bernadette frowned then looked at Danielle, who looked at her for her reaction before pushing the draft forward. "How?"

"I told you already, I have more than enough money." Danielle grinned. "Oh and I still want my mother's things back. I mean it, Bernie, I am going home tomorrow, I want them back before I head to the airport. I have spoken with Michael and Lourda, I have a guy coming to change the locks today and you will not be given a key, you are no longer responsible for anything in the house and you will not have to concern yourself with its maintenance or bills."

"Fine." Bernadette went for the bank draft, which Danielle pulled back.

"I will give this to Mr Roberts, you will sign that legal document, he will give us a copy each and you will get your money then."

"Are you trying to imply I would try to rob it?" Bernadette snapped, her face showing how appalled she was by the idea.

"No, but that is the legal process." Danielle scoffed, "So sign the damn paper so I can get on with my day. I need to go shopping for a dress."

"What would you want a dress for, you never wore dresses when your father was alive?" "I have something to go to as soon as I return to London, so chop-chop, I'm a busy woman."

* Danielle smiled as she drove to the airport. She had slept well enough as Tom's smell was still on the side of the bed that he had been on and knowing that they would return there soon, her holding the largest part of the home she always wanted making her excited and happy. She had gotten a dress the day before after the solicitors and with her hair and make-up booked, she looked forward to going home, to being home with Tom again, arranging for them to go public and finally be able to do things together. The idea of them and Mac going for a walk in Hampstead Heath was enticing in ways she could not vocalise, she knew at first there would be people annoying them, but she knew too that they would be old news again in the near future.

She handed back the car and went to the check-in desk, she knew Tom would be busy all day, he had to prep and get ready for the premier. He had texted earlier in the day to ask her how she was getting on, she gave him a story about getting the legal work signed and said little else before the car to ready him for the day arrived, so with 'I love you's' and goodbyes, they said they would talk later.

As it stood, she arrived in London on time and was able to get a taxi back to the house, it felt almost odd to be back and for Tom not to be there, but with too little time to worry about things, she rushed around, getting her bag and everything brought back upstairs and into the room, she looked around, Tom had it as it always was, but she realised that the bed was unkempt in the centre and not to the side, causing her to laugh slight, Tom clearly taking advantage of the greater space. She took out the dress and went into the wardrobe to get the shoes she knew would work with it. Just then, her phone rang. "Hey, Nacelle."

"So, I spoke to Henry, he said that he can fit you in, he is brilliant, I trained with him, I would not allow some half-wit at you."

"You're the best Nacelle."

"You know it darling, listen, how does lunch at ours sound next week?"

"Brilliant, day and time and I'll be there."

"Woohoo, we will wait until lover boy is on the road so you'll have something to do other than pine for him."

"I will not pine, I will mope quietly in a corner and pretend not to eat my own weight in Ben and Jerry's." Nacelle laughed. "I'll be fine, it's only two to three weeks."

"How was Ireland?"

"Wet, wetter than usual."

"So submerged then?"

"Effectively, here faired no better I can see."

"Apparently not if you listen to Becky. Anyway, I will talk to you later, Henry is lovely, he'll look after you."

"Thanks again Nacelle."

"Anytime girl, I'll look after you." Nacelle sang before hanging up the phone.

With her dress and shoes in hand, Danielle rushed outside and into the waiting taxi, texting the address as she went.

* Tom smiled brightly as the rain fell, there had been one question about Taylor, but he dismissed it, focusing on the movie instead, he smiled, posed and spoke with his fellow cast members for what seemed like an hour on the carpet. He loved that the tour was starting at home, he would be able to get another few days at home. More importantly, if Danielle could get everything sorted in Ireland, she could come home, he could spend a few more days with her before he left again, that caused him to smile more.

He joked and smiled as he, Brie Larson and Samuel Jackson stood together, being photographed and Jackson complained jokingly of the British weather. He began to walk into the cinema finally and sighed. Overall the evening was a success thus far. He took out his phone and looked at it, a few texts had come in, all of well wishes, but none from Danielle, which caused him to frown. She knew what time he was due to be in the cinema, she was usually one of the first to text, so it felt a slight bit disheartening. He looked at the celebrities that had come to the premiere also, the cameras flashing as they posed, he found himself hoping they enjoyed it. He also watched the others that had secured tickets, Emma said she was coming, so at least his little sister would be in the crowd, one of the first to give her opinion on it. He had not seen her enter, but the simple text 'we're here' had made its way to his phone, making him smile.

The movie was well edited, the CGI made all the imaginary running for his life look good, and from those who were present, it seemed to be well received, not Oscar-worthy, but good nonetheless. Again, he checked his phone a few times through the movie, but there was no word from Danielle. He was tempted to text, but as the first to clench his jaw when others did such things, he resisted, he would ring her when he was done. He watched as one woman rose from her seat in a manner that suggested she was trying to make as little of a nuisance of herself as possible and rushed up the aisle of the theatre. She was well dressed, her choice elegant, but Tom had to admit alluring also, he had not seen her outside posing for photos yet he felt as though he knew her, but he shook his head, she was of similar build to Danielle and he had not seen her face properly because she had not looked toward him in the darkened room.

There was a round of applause when the film ended and slowly the lights began to rise again. The room was a flurry of activity once more. Tom felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and when he saw Danielle's name, he grinned widely.

Danielle - I hope you had a great night and that the screening went well, I know it will do great with people. Why do I get the feeling you have made a new clatter of 'Hiddlestoners' with this one xx

Tom smiled as his brow furrowed, unsure what Danielle was referring to, but to see a text from her caused him to feel elated. With people congratulating him he shook hands and began to talk to people regarding the film.

The after-party was being held in a small club not far from the cinema, the list was shorter than the premiere one and in truth, as much as Tom enjoyed getting people's positive reactions, he wanted to go home.

He forced the smile onto his face as he stood with the same small flute of champagne in his hand after half an hour, counting down the minutes until he could leave. "Well done." the first genuine smile came onto his face as he heard his sister's voice behind him. She embraced him tightly in a hug. "I actually really enjoyed that."

Tom chuckled, "you sound somewhat shocked by that statement."

"Well, remakes can go either way," Emma stated defensively.

"Where is Jack?" Tom looked around before looking to Emma again.

"At work, I told you this the other day."

"But you said 'we're here'."

"Yes," Emma grinned. "But I never mentioned Jack."

"Then…" Tom turned slightly and stared open-mouthed as he realised who was beside them. Feeling incredibly sheepish for noting the woman that had gone to the restroom during the movie was similar to his girlfriend, not realising it was actually her. Danielle's hair was tied back from her face, which had her make-up done to have a natural look and she donned a dress he knew for a fact she had not had in the closet before going to Ireland. "How…the house…?"

"Done and dusted yesterday, I flew home at lunchtime. Hello, by the way." Danielle smiled.

Tom immediately leant in and forced himself to only kiss her cheek. "Hello, I…I didn't think…"

"When Luke rang about that confirmation for the show, he asked if I planned on coming as a normal patron, I told him to see if I could keep a ticket aside, and when Bernadette all but snapped the bank draft from my hand, I knew I could make it."

"So it's done, you have the house?"

"I have half the house, but don't worry, I will get the other half soon." Danielle winked. She watched as Tom fought to prevent himself from declaring to the room about them, his eyes darting over her elegant dress which shaped her breasts perfectly. "Behave," she warned.

"This will be the longest two hours of my life." He groaned.

"What was it you called it before," Danielle teased as she leant in to whisper in Tom's ear so Emma would not hear. "Delayed Gratification." She grinned.

Danielle's dress

#I Hate You I Love You #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic #chapter 89 #wolfpawn

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creativitytoexplore · 5 years ago

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The White Cadillac by Robert Funderburk https://ift.tt/3dQoXIK In god-fearing Louisiana, on the west bank of the Mississippi, fourteen-year-old Chris faces a tragedy and finds a true friend; by Robert Funderburk.

I grew up in Algiers, on the 'Point,' and when I played on the grassy slopes of the levee as a child, I would look across a half mile of rolling muddy water to the twin spires of the oldest cathedral in the country. To the left was the six-storied bulk of the Jackson Brewing Company, makers of Jax Beer. Both buildings were purposed as escape routes from the drudgery of the world. They were separated by: Jackson Square, with its piked iron fence and artists and entertainers and tourists; the horse-drawn carriages that clattered along St. Peter Street; and the bright endless span of eternity. My first memories were of the smell of sweat and grease and Dixie beer, and my dad's calloused hands, as he held me in the garden behind our house. By the time I was five or six, my mother would send me around the corner to CJ's bar to get my dad's daily beer. It was never kept in the house, and I never saw him have more than one. The three of us would sit on the brick patio with palm fronds rattling against the stone wall in the breeze off the gulf. The smell of jasmine and gardenia and my mother's roses would move in slow waves on the textured air of evening. I suppose our talk ran to the small, unremarkable events of the day. That part is gone. What remains is the quiet joy we shared at the end of each day and the light in the eyes of my mother and dad when they looked at each other. At these times, I felt that nothing of the outside world could ever separate or harm us.

Father Nick stood at the microphone on the stage in his black suit and unpolished combat boots. He is five-five and wiry, one hundred forty pounds of strength and balance. His hair is also wiry, and it is dark and wild, like his eyes. He was closing. "I announced Your justice in the vast assembly; I did not restrain my lips as You, O Lord, know. Your justice I kept... Alleluia." He stood relaxed and smiling and watched us. "Rise, children," Sister Theresa said, lifting her arms in front of her, palms upward, "and make your way quietly to your classes." It was eight-thirty, and the morning assembly was over. We had been cautioned against the temptations of the flesh; exampled by the life of one of the saints (I could see an endless file of them stretching back through the centuries, in haloed postures of prayer, shunning even the bodily functions) and admonished to be proper little Josephs and Marys. We would then make our scuffling, bumping, murmuring ways out of the auditorium to the classrooms. The lockers were in the hallway just outside, girls on one side, boys on the other. I felt a delicate touch on my left arm and turned to see her, arms laden with books, making even the navy skirt and white blouse look regal. The blonde hair was long and as straight as an Indian's, and her eyes were big and dark and somehow out of place in the bright face. "Thanks for the cinnamon roll," she said, "I didn't get a chance to eat breakfast this morning." I looked from the eyes to her Cupid's bow mouth and felt my throat constrict and my knees going soft. I took a breath, folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the locker, trying to look disinterested. "Anytime. We always go there before school. The apple fritters are my favorite." Apple fritters. That's impressive, Chris. She'll swoon any second now. "Maybe I'll try one. Would you mind if I met you there tomorrow?" That moment is as clear to me now as the day it happened: at Holy Name of Mary in that crowded, noisy hallway, with a million dust particles dancing in the brilliant light streaming through the transom, and Becky's smile and the sweet feeling inside my chest that made me think life was too good to be true.

It was a ten-minute walk home from school, in the way fourteen-year-old boys walk anywhere. Across from Trupiano's Market and Deli, where my mother bought thin-sliced ham and Italian sausage and their crispy-chewy French bread, I could hear the jukebox through the screen door of CJ's and smell the hamburgers frying on the grill, as I passed the take-out window that opened directly onto the street. I was thinking of Becky and the fragrance of her that morning when she had stepped close and straightened the collar of my shirt, and of seeing her at the bakery across from school the next morning. When I turned the corner onto Pacific, I could see the levee four blocks away, where a nineteen-sixty-five spanking new Mustang was speeding along Patterson Street. The September sun had a July warmth as it struck the left side of my face and glinted off a white Cadillac, almost as long as the front of our house, parked on the street. The left front tire was turned outward and rested on the curb. Behind the steering wheel, a large man with curly black hair smoked a cigarette. A numbness began in the pit of my stomach, and I felt it spread to my chest and arms and legs like thousands of tiny deaths beneath my skin. I sat on the curb with my books on the sidewalk next to me, tapping with a stick on a crushed Coke can that lay between my legs in the gutter. The shadow of a telephone pole fell across me from behind, stretched across the street and up and beyond a house, and when I stood I thought it was my own. The Cadillac man stood next to me. "Who are you?" I asked. "John Gabriel, with the union," he said and put his arm around me. "Your daddy was a friend of mine." He picked up my books. "Let's go in the house. Check on your mother." Inside, the doctor was coming down the hall from my parent's bedroom with sunlight from behind him glancing off the polished wood floor. He sat me down on the sofa, pressing my wrist with two fingers and said, "I've just given your mother a sedative. She'll sleep for awhile. Mr. Gabriel will stay with you until your aunt gets here." He looked at me closely and let go of my wrist. "Is there anything I can do for you now?" "No sir. Thank you." After the doctor left, Mr. Gabriel sat next to me on the sofa. I felt the springs give, then rise under me. "Chris, I want you to call me John. And don't worry, I'm taking care of everything," he said, while unbuttoning his collar and loosening his tie. "You just see to your mother." "Where's my daddy? How come I never saw you on the dock?" John took a pack of Camels from his shirt pocket and a silver lighter from his pants, lit a cigarette and took a long drag on it. He let it out slowly and said, "I spend most of my time traveling or in the office. Worked the docks eight years though." His eyes wandered about the room and rested on a picture of my parents. My dad was wearing his Army dress uniform. "We lost your dad this morning, Chris. These things happen. It can be a dangerous job." His words had little effect on me. The sight of the white Cadillac had taken care of that. "Maybe we should go out back." The smoker rose and walked toward the hallway. On the patio, John settled into a slouch as though his news was a weight pressing him down. I sat in my usual place, although everything about this visit was as far from usual as I could imagine. "We were breaking in a new winchman this morning, and the whip caught your dad in the back." The smoke from his cigarette was lifting in slim strands, disappearing in a slant of sunlight above his hair. "He fell between the dock and the ship. We looked for him until about an hour ago. Then I came to tell your mother." John Gabriel stayed with me four hours that day, until my mother's sister arrived from St Martinville. We sat in the garden, John in my dad's chair, with the first fallen sweet gum leaves rustling on the bricks and the banana trees moving heavily in the slow wind. "Your daddy and me started on the docks the same day, Chris." He coughed and lit a fresh cigarette from the one he had finished smoking. "I couldn't wait till the day I could get away from the bone-grinding work and into that air conditioned office. Your daddy didn't want nothin' at it. Said union politics, or any other kind, would sooner or later ruin a man." That day John showed me another side of my father. The day faded into dusk, and the shadows of the tall, slate-roofed houses lengthened and covered the last scattered pools of sunlight in the garden while the smoker talked. John stood up and walked to the back porch. He picked up one of my dad's scuffed work shoes and looked at it for a long time. "Your dad took care of his men. He never had a silent winch in his crews, so when layoff time came, his men were always the last to go." My mind was drifting back to to those Saturday mornings my dad had to work overtime and let me go to the docks with him. John placed the shoe back as gently as a supplicant at the altar. "I'd see him out there with that freezin' wind blowin' off the water and wonder why he didn't take this job. They offered it to him first." "I don't remember Daddy ever talkin' about you," I said, surprised by the sound of my words. "Noah didn't have much to do with me after I took the union job. I did some things he didn't approve of," John said through a veil of smoke before his face. "He was always loyal to the union though. I never could figure it out." "Anyway, when your daddy made walkin' foreman, which meant he was in charge of work over the whole ship, that was as far as he'd go. All the big shippin' outfits wanted him 'cause he knew the work better'n anybody, and the men would bust a gut for him. But he didn't want no part of bein' a company man." I watched John's face fall into shade as the sun dropped behind a rooftop. He looked directly into my eyes, then over at my dad's shoes on the porch, "The world can't afford to lose a man like Noah Barton."

The conversation hummed and roared around me and people stood and squatted and sat next to me; the flower scented women with soft hands would take mine and speak gently and the low growl of the men would float down on their whiskey-smelling breaths. The words held no meaning, as I sat on the soft flowered chair next to my mother in Mothe's Funeral Home on Valette Street, but the collective warmth and nearness of people inserted itself between me and that protean shape in the dark that waited, that I would face again and again. My mother was drinking coffee from a thin white cup with a silver rim. She sat erect and held the saucer on her lap with her left hand. I thought she looked very pretty with her deep, sad eyes and her skin like pale marble. A tall woman with blue hair and a black mole on her wrinkled neck was talking to her. I looked from my mother to the coffin that was a metallic gray, the color of my father's eyes, draped with an American flag, closed and empty.

In the white glare of the cemetery, people dressed in black, and dark shades of blue and brown and gray, were crowded between the tombs. The priest was reading from a thin black volume. "May the angels take you into paradise; may the martyrs come to welcome you on your way, and lead you into the holy city, Jerusalem." Light glinted from the coffin... empty. My dad swam with the catfish and the giant alligator gar, breathing water. Sleek as a porpoise he glided beneath the keels of the ships in the rich depths of the river, his bright hair nimbused in the dark, like cold white flames about his head. "Let us pray. O God, by Whose mercy rest is given to the souls of the faithful, in Your kindness bless this grave. Entrust it to the care of Your holy angel, and..." I wondered if Becky knew, if she had gone to the bakery the last two mornings looking for me. I wanted to breathe her into me; to feel her warmth and life; to have her reach up and pull away this cold shroud that smothered, that deadened. "May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful, departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace." "Amen," we all said in unison. The priest closed the book, stepped next to my mother and placed his right hand on her shoulder, "You'd best be going on home now, Helen. Get some rest. There's nothing more to do." "I will, Father. Thank you so much. It was a beautiful service." She took my hand, and we walked slowly along behind the last of the people leaving the cemetery. "Honey, I know I'm going to expect a lot of you now that Noah's gone, but I'll try not to interfere in your life. You let me know if I'm too much bother." I think that was the first time I saw her as someone other than my mother, the woman who cooked and washed my clothes and was always there to rub Vicks salve on my chest when I had a cold or bring freshly baked chocolate chip cookies to my room when I just had the blues. She was much more than just my mother. "Don't worry about that, Mama. We're gonna do just fine, and we're gonna have good times again, too." On the way home, my mother sat in the front seat of the car with her sister, Jeannette. The Color Guard at the cemetery had been a surprise for me, then a source of pride. "I'm just beginning to know my daddy," I thought. "I'm just beginning to know." We were passing antebellum and Victorian style houses whose deep red or gray or green roofs were baking in the September heat. They had second-story verandas and widow's walks, white latticework and Greek columns and long porches with marine grey floors, iron fences that were never quite plumb and live oaks whose roots had tilted the sidewalks at odd angles. I always liked to walk the old streets, on sidewalks that were broken and lovely and still held to their purpose.

That autumn seemed more of a long, wandering dream than life. My mother stayed in the house much of the time and seemed to sleep more and more. After school, I would go to the river and walk the levee for miles and the thin white light of summer turned gold as the sun slipped further south. The massive steel pylons that supported the bridge marked the halfway point, and I would sit under them and rest and listen to the roar of traffic high above the lapping of the waves at the river's edge. This side of the Jackson Street Ferry, an abandoned wharf, hidden by willows, reached forty feet out into the river. The boards had turned shades of gray and charcoal and brown, and where nails and bolts had given way, I could look down to the muddy swirling of the current. At its end, the wharf formed a "T" and was covered by a rusted ochre-colored tin roof. There was a crude bench made of two-by-twelves nailed between the roof supports. I would sit there after school and on weekends and look at the skyline of New Orleans beyond the bridge and at the ships from ports all over the world, and directly across to the Robin Street Wharf, where my dad had taken me on those Saturday mornings in another life. I would see myself perched high on a stack of wooden crates or bales of cotton, while he moved among the men seeing to the loading and unloading of ships. That was in the daytime. At night, he would come to me in that murky, watery world, his hair blazing with light and my sorrow dying in the radiance of his smile. I would run toward him, toward the light and the burning away of sorrow, toward my father, who vanished in a bright vapor when I touched him. Each time I would awaken, startled by the pain of his death, with the weight of the night heavy on my chest and the slow, stale blood coursing in my veins.

On my first day back at school, I walked into Susslin's Bakery at seven-thirty. There were a few "Sorry to hears" and "How you doin's" from my friends, but the conversations were strained, and I knew it would take some time before they felt comfortable around me. After a minute or two they drifted off, and I was left at the counter looking at the display case. Mr. Susslin saw me through the swinging doors and walked out from the kitchen. He had skin like kneaded dough and his waistline spoke of years of sampling his products. A white apron covered his tee shirt and baggy khakis and his graying brown hair was as heavy and greasy as his pastries were light and fluffy. "Sorry about your dad, Chris. You doin' okay? You look fine," he said as he put two apple fritters in a bag and drew a cup of coffee from the large silver urn. "Here's what you need, son. Make you feel like a new man." Through the plate glass window, I could see Becky making her way across the street toward the bakery. "Excuse me, Mr. Susslin, I'll be right back." "Sure, Chris. I was young once myself." I met her out front on the sidewalk, took her books and opened the door for her. She glanced at me once, then kept her head turned away. Not another one. Not just a "Sorry, Chris," and back to the company of the fathered masses, the untainted two-parent kids. I put her books on a table next to the window and, as she sat down, returned to the counter. "She's a real pretty girl," Mr. Susslin said, placing a carton of milk and a glass on the counter next to the coffee. "You be nice to her, Chris." I laid two dollars on the counter, but he waved me off and walked back through the swinging doors. Becky poured milk into the glass, while I stirred sugar into my coffee. The morning light made her hair shine like it had been polished, and shadowed the right side of her face. She looked away from the khaki and navy and white clothed throng crossing the streets and milling about on the school ground, and directly into my eyes. "Chris, I'm so sorry about your daddy." (Here it comes, the "I'll be so busy this year. See you around sometime" story.) "I know you'll be busy this year, but maybe we could spend some time together. You know, just the two of us." My heart rolled over in my chest like a playful puppy. "I think that's a great idea, Becky." Who said girls aren't smart?

The great ship plowed by on its way south, underneath the bridge, past the ruins of Fort Jackson and into the Gulf. I could see rust on its booms and stacks and men moving about on deck and "Helene" painted in black on the bow. It was a Saturday afternoon in early October, and Becky sat next to me on my hidden wharf. The morning had been clear and crisp, but the wind shifted and cloud cover had moved slowly in from the southwest like a gray blanket being pulled across the blue dome of the sky. "Is the roast beef po-boy all right?" Becky asked. She was dressed in faded jeans and a white cotton blouse and was leaning back against a post with her bare feet on the rough bench. It could have tasted like ground glass and motor oil and my answer would have been the same. "This is great. Best I ever had." "I just love this place, Chris. It's like nothing can touch us here." She was looking out across the river toward the towering International Trade Mart and the French Quarter beyond. "All those thousands and thousands of people and nobody knows where we are; it's just perfect." A curtain of rain had reached the mouth of the Harvey canal and was sweeping down the river toward us. The first heavy drops dented the river's surface from shore to shore and then it was on us, pounding the tin roof like shrapnel. A cold spray came blowing in, and I took Becky's hand and led her to the lee side of the shed. We sat on the floor, a quilt wrapped about us, and her hair soft against my cheek as she leaned against me. "Well, maybe not quite perfect," I said, "Like right now." "This is even better. I love the rain and the sound on the tin roof." I tucked the quilt behind her back and held it round her with my arm. "You made these last weeks a lot easier for me, Becky. I don't know if I coulda handled it or not." I turned her face slightly with my fingertips and kissed her on the cheek. "I wish I could take the pain away, Chris, but time will heal it. That's what my mother always says." I couldn't imagine a hundred years doing that, but I tried not to think about it. "I guess you're right." Becky sat straight with her ankles crossed, her face to the wind. "Chris, was your daddy saved?" "What's that?" "You know. Was he a Christian?" I felt a little uneasy and didn't want to talk about this, but the concern in Becky's eyes kept me going. "He was brought up Baptist. Mama told me something happened that turned him against the church so he quit goin'. He'd go to Mass with us on Easter and Christmas, but that was about it." The thought hit me as I watched Becky tying a scarf around her hair that was whipping about her face in the wind. "You're not Catholic, are you? No wonder I never saw you at Sunday Mass." "No. I'm Baptist, like your daddy was. My parents don't have much confidence in the public schools. That's why I'm at Holy Name." "I was wondering where you got this saved business from." "It's just trusting Jesus as your Savior, Chris. That's where the word comes from." I looked out over the wind-swept water toward the Robin Street Wharf, a dim outline in the heavy rain. "I was baptized by the priest when I was two weeks old, had my first communion when I was six, and my confirmation in the sixth grade. As far as the church is concerned, I'm okay." "I didn't mean to upset you, Chris," Becky said. She had her arms folded and was shivering slightly. "Just because your daddy didn't go to church doesn't mean he didn't make it to Heaven. I think you should know that." Something I didn't understand had been playing around at the back of my mind, and I decided to let it out. "I could never be upset at you, Becky. You're the best friend I've ever had." I reached for her hand, and she came closer to me under the blanket. Becky sat between my legs and leaned back against my chest with her head resting on my shoulder. My arms around her and her hands on top of mine. "Oh, Chris, I'll love you forever." Somehow, even at fourteen, I knew forevers seldom lasted very long. "Becky, I want to talk to you about something. Something I don't understand." "You can talk to me about anything, Chris. I want us to know everything about each other." "It's about my daddy," I said. A sudden chill hit me that wasn't from the wind, and something dark pressed down on me as if trying to stop me from speaking. "About two weeks before he died, it was Saturday, and I was going to work with him. I got up about five-thirty. Daddy always got up at five o'clock, even on Saturday, and had coffee in the kitchen or sometimes out back if the weather was good." Becky tightened her grip on my hands and snuggled against me. That thing wanted me to be quiet, but I fought against it. "I was walking down the hall and I heard my dad talking softly, almost a whisper. He'd never talked this way to another person, not that I'd heard anyway. He sounded almost like a child, but not a child either; it's hard to explain 'cause my dad was anything but childlike. I stopped and waited until he finished whatever it was he was saying, and then I got this feeling that there was somebody else, no that's not right, some other - presence in the house with us." I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "This is as close as I can come to what went on that morning." Becky turned her head to look at me. "Chris, you're trembling. Are you all right?" "Yeah, sure. A little damp, that's all. Anyway, I went to the kitchen door and saw daddy sitting at the table. His Bible was open and his hands were laying on it and his head was bowed. Becky, do you think this really happened? Maybe I just dreamed it." She squeezed my hands again. "I believe it did, Chris." I don't think I could have continued if Becky hadn't been holding on to me. I don't know why, but it made a difference. "Daddy was just sitting there with a few tears on his face, and then he started to smile, not like something was funny, but like he always did when Mama told him how much she loved him." Remembering his smile that morning, I felt tears welling up inside me, took a deep breath and choked them back. "Then he looked at me, and his face was like I never saw it before, like something you'd see in an old painting, but that's not it either. I just can't explain." Becky was quiet, and there was the sound of rain and the warmth of her hands on mine. "He got up and walked over to me, and he was still smiling and there was - oh, I don't know - a kind of peace about him. Then he put his arms around me and gave me a big hug, he didn't do that much, and I could feel how much he loved me. I don't understand it, but I felt his love all through me. He stood back with his hands on my shoulders and laughed out loud and said, "I feel like celebratin', Chris. Let's take your mama out to Commander's Palace for supper tonight. How'd you like that?" Becky's voice was soft and clear in the sound of the wind and the rain. "Your daddy came back to Jesus, Chris. Something made him run away, but he came back, and that's all that matters." "I'm glad you're here Becky. I'm glad I told you this." We sat and watched the rain on the water until the first glimmering of blue appeared beyond the long curve of the river. I didn't know what had happened to me, but the pain that had ripped at my chest was gone, and there was a lingering sadness that I could bear. Never again would I awaken in the night to that siren call from the river, that sweet and deadly voice that would draw me through the willows onto the wharf, that whispered dive, dive into me, into the bright soft flow of me and swim forever with your father! Becky was warm against me under the blanket, and the sun had broken through and touched the willows. They were bending over the water's edge, their long dripping leaves shot with silver, like women come to the river to wash their hair.

#FICTION on the WEB short stories

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rainestorm2556 · 3 years ago

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“Jolie, darling, we'll be there soon.” My grandma’s voice rings through the plane. Oh yeah I never introduced myself. I’m Jolie. Jolie Marina Elizabeth Olivia Speedwagon. I come from a prestigious bloodline. Let me explain how it all went down. Way back in the 1800’s Robert Edward Oliver Speedwagon met and fell in love with a bold and courageous woman, Anna Sun. Robert was a former street thug who decided to help out Jonathan Joestar, Anna Sun was an orphan. So was Robert. They already had that in common. When they had finally defeated Dio(or so they thought at least) they quickly married and had their son, my great grandpa Idris. Idris Felix Rhys Speedwagon was a good man though Anna Sun was prone to forgetting about him. Idris travelled to France one day and he there met the French model Francessca De La Fontaine. He was enchanted by her. She found him intriguing and fell for him so he proposed before the trip was over and she went back to England with him. The two married there and had my grandfather, Henry. Francessca decided on his name. My grandfather had to go on a trip to defeat some Aztec stripper gods with Joseph Joestar and there he met my grandma, Carrie Medici, her family basically funded the Renaissance. After knowing her for a week my grandpa proposed(please tell me you’re also seeing the trend of these people getting married crazy fast) and she of course said yes and when he had finished helping Joseph Joestar the two were married in London. They had two kids, my dad Robert(named for my great great grandfather), and my aunt Eliza. My dad married a Hispanic woman with a not-very-Hispanic-sounding-name(I know it’s weird), her name is Alisha and she’s my mom. My aunt Eliza married a man named Itsuki Kakyoin and they had my cousin(who might I mention is like 3 months younger than I am) Noriaki. I had an older sister, Lisette, but she was killed a few years back. It really affected my mom and after that I just knew I couldn’t bring myself to be at home so I packed my bags and moved to London with my grandparents. Nori, Em, and I have always been really close. Here’s some more about me: I’m 17(I’ll be 18 on December 21st), I was born Annabella but I started going by Jolie around three years ago. Alisha…...hasn’t always been the best mom but even so I still love her, the same goes for my dad. Lisette was older than me by four years. I love singing, dancing and acting. I have a manager, Becky. I want to be a pop star, I have green eyes, my hair is naturally brown but to fit in better with my dad’s family I bleached it blonde almost three years ago. My hair is also wavy but I flat-iron it a lot. I have tan skin and I’m 5’8.5 I guess now I’ll describe what I’m wearing. I’m wearing my hair down with a navy blue top hat that has a black bow on it, a jumpsuit that’s black in the front and white in the back, a navy blue pleated skirt, a black belt with a golden heart buckle and black combat boots. Another thing: I can use hamon and I have a stand, the same goes for Emilia. Her stand is Van Halen and mine….doesn’t have a name yet. I also have a lot of food allergies so I have to be really careful about what I eat.

“Bambina we’re almost there, how are you holding up?” Caesar asks me.

“Certo.”

“What if we can’t communicate? I won’t know what he’s saying, I can’t speak Japanese.”

“Joseph and your cousin can translate.”

“I guess.” Our plane lands signaling that we’ve arrived in Japan. I grab my bag and a limo immediately pulls up to drop us off at the Kujo household.

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