Tumgik
#and this teacher was like No maria seriously you never know. you say that now but you never know
claratyler · 2 months
Text
I get so taken aback everytime someone asks me genuinely "do you have a boyfriend?" Like...of course i dont. are you kidding me.
1 note · View note
alltheirdamn · 6 months
Text
Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chap. 1 : Your Name
Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')
Masterlist
PROLOGUE
You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.
 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 
The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 
Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 
You’d never love again. 
Tumblr media
“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.
By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 
You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 
Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 
Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 
Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 
“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 
“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.
“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”
You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.
“I’m not interested,” you stated. ��I’m fine on my own.”
Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.
“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”
“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”
“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”
You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 
The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 
Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 
It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 
Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 
You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 
**
You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 
“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.
“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.
You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.
“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.
Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 
“Really, Maria. You do.”
“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.
Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.
“Is that her dad?” You asked.
He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 
“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”
“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.
Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”
“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.
You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 
And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 
“What was that?” Maria chirped. 
You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 
“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”
“It looked like something.”
You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 
“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 
Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 
“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”
“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”
You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.
“Miss Smith!”
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 
With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 
“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 
“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 
“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.
“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 
“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”
His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.
“Joel,” he insisted.
You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?
Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 
The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.
The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 
You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.
“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.
“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”
“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.
“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.
Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.
“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.
“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”
“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 
You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 
“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”
He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 
“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.
“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 
“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”
“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”
“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”
There was a lot of harm in it. 
You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 
“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.
You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 
“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.
Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 
“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”
“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”
His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 
“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.
“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.
“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.
“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”
That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.
“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”
“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 
“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”
Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.
It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 
The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.
“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 
“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 
“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”
She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 
“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.
“I don’t know,” you sighed.
“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”
There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.
You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 
The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 
Joel Miller.
He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 
“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.
You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 
“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”
She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 
“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”
“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”
“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.
You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.
Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.
You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—
“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.
“Mr. Miller,” you said.
“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 
“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”
Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 
“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 
“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”
“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”
“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 
“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 
“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 
Was he… flirting with you? 
You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 
“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 
“What other flavors do you like?” 
He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  
“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.
Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 
“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 
“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”
“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 
Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 
“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”
Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 
“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.
“How do you know? Were you watching me?”
“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 
He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 
“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 
“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.
You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.
“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.
Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 
“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.
Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.
“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”
“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.
“Wait!” Joel called out.
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”
You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 
You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 
“Fuck,” you groaned.
As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.
“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 
“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 
The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 
“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”
Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 
Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.
“No,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 
“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 
The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 
“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 
“I’m—.”
“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”
He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 
“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 
“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”
You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 
“Get in.”
His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 
You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 
Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 
“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 
You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”
“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”
A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 
“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”
You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 
“This is me,” you sniffled. 
“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”
“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.
“It’s all formalities.”
“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”
Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.
“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 
You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“What’s your name?”
Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.
833 notes · View notes
Note
Do you know why Elisabeth of Austria could be so... mean, to Gisela and Rudolf? Like calling Gisela and her children a thin "sow" and her "piglets", and publicly referring to Marie Valerie as the "only one". I get that she wasn't very maternal and not everyone is made to be a mother, but that's just cruel. Also is it true that she had an instict to harm children, didn't visit Rudolf when he was seriously ill, and had to be pushed by Gisela's teacher to stand up against his abuse by his teacher?
Tumblr media
Hello anon! Indeed Elisabeth's relationship with her eldest children was... complicated, and it's probably the most criticized thing about her. Even her most sympathetic biographers agree that she wasn't as loving to them as she was to Valerie (and then you have Brigitte Hamann who straight up implied that Elisabeth didn't love Gisela - a huge reach in my opinion). Mostly it is attributed to the fact that it was archduchess Sophie, her mother-in-law, the one that was in charge of the kids' raising, and that this made her grow cold towards them. I'd love to read what's the take about this from more recent revisionist works about Sophie, but I haven't been able to yet, so I can only talk about the way Elisabeth saw it: years after, when Valerie was born, she really did thought that her mother-in-law had “stolen” her eldest children. She told to her lady-in-waiting, Countess Maria Festetics, that “Now I know what happiness a child brings — now that I have finally had the courage to love her and keep her with me.” (1986, Hamann). Meaning that, in the 1870s, she truly felt that she hadn't been able to love and care for Gisela and Rudolf properly when they were little.
Of course this turned Valerie into her mother's favorite, which earned her the nickname of the “only child”. However Elisabeth (as far as I'm aware at least) never called her that; the nickname came from the Viennese society who scoffed at the Empress's clear preference for the daughter she was raising as a Hungarian. She did however say to Valerie that “it is you alone that I love”, which is very ouch towards literally everyone else in her life. This preferential treatment also earned Valerie her brother's resentment, Gisela, for her part, doesn't seem to have been bothered by this. Valerie was never close to Rudolf and their relationship was strained, but she did love her sister and wrote that she wished that one day she could be a wife and mother as good as her.
That she had an “instinct to harm children” is pure nonsense, her problem with her children is that she ignored them, but she never actively harmed them (or any other child, for that matter). I’d never heard of Elisabeth being forced to intervene to save Rudolf, in fact that she stepped out and stopped her son’s abuse was something that she seemed to have been proud of: “when I learned the reason for his [Rudolf’s] illness, I had to find a remedy; gathered up all my courage when I saw that it was impossible to prevail against this protégé of my mother-in-law, and told everything to the Emperor, who could not decide to take a position against his mother’s will — I reached for the utmost and said that I could no longer stand by — something would have to happen! either Gondrecourt [Rudolf’s abusive tutor] goes, or I go.” (1986, Hamann) The Emperor agreed, and Gondrecourt was dismissed. Elisabeth personally chose Colonel Josef Latour as Rudolf’s new tutor, who was highly unpopular at court because he wasn’t an aristocrat and had very liberal political ideas. Many tried to reach Franz Josef to make him get rid of Latour, but Elisabeth protected him and he kept his job. Latour was to become one of Rudolf’s closest friends, and they remained so until his death.
Lastly, about Elisabeth basically calling Gisela's children ugly, I will say in her defense (which isn't really a defense lol) that this didn't come from a particular dislike towards her eldest daughter: she just didn't like babies, period. In 1867 she wrote to Rudolf about her newborn niece Mädi, daughter of her sister Mathilde, that “the baby in her swaddling bands is not as revolting as babies so treated usually are. But near at hand it does not smell very nice”, and to her mother Ludovika she wrote that she liked the child best “when I neither see nor hear it, for, as you know, I cannot appreciate little babies.” (1936, Corti). Also I can't find the source right now so don't quote me on this but I'm sure that I read that when her granddaughter Erzsi, Rudolf's daughter, was born, she said that she thought the girl wasn't as ugly as little babies usually are. So her saying Gisela's babies looked like piglets is just in line with her thinking that little babies are ugly in general. Which hey, at least she didn't say it to the children's mothers' faces (all these comments come from her correspondence to other relatives), so there's that.
The site you linked to me doesn't quote any source, so I'm not sure where they got that information from: it definitely isn't in any of Elisabeth's main biographies. I'm not that acquainted with Rudolf's biographies tho, so if I ever come across something about that I'll let you know.
Also, your question wasn't a bother. I hope that you found my answer helpful!
67 notes · View notes
dangermousie · 2 years
Text
S2 ep 7
Aka the last ep before Ivan acquires a body count.
1. I have  never watched a reunion between a character I adore and character I like and where I don’t ship them with anyone else at this point in the story with more exasperation. JUST END IT!!! Ivan is probably in my top 5 show characters of all time and I like Caro just fine in s2 but this is a ship that just does not work. She is not in love with him (I don’t think she ever was) and by now, even if he hasn’t caught on, neither is he. It’s just inertia and familiarity and need to have someone. And I don’t even know why Caro came back to him again - he wasn’t chasing her any more, it’s not love, it’s no longer pity, so what? Knowledge that he is a good boyfriend who treats her as a princess? But then what does it say about her supposed great thing for Marcos - it was one thing when she gave up on Marcos because she felt so bad for Ivan who was broken at the time. It’s another matter when she gives up on Marcos because Ivan is a solid boyfriend. Not much of a deep yearning for Marcos to be had there.
I do love that the show never turned either of them into a bad guy or even gave one of them some epic love that ended the relationship - Caro was never obsessed with Marcos and it was a long time after his break up with Caro that Ivan hooked up with Julia. It’s just sometimes two perfectly fine people are not compatible. Anyway, I am with Julia - having a hormonal roommate waking you up because she snuck a dude in and is loudly making up is a quintessential experience in college but annoying as hell :P
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2. Since this is a rewatch, any time I see Amelia and Marcos interact, I get a full body shudder. Enjoy dying in a literal ditch, statutory creep!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
3. Teacher is terrorizing a student. Is anything gonna happen to them for that? Of course not. But also start of explicit theme that people who prey on underage students are horrors. He spins some story to Julia that he loved the missing girl and Julia (who after all, had a “relationship” with her stepdad) views it as tragic and romantic. But we the viewers are shown that in addition to statutory, he murdered the girl. Math teacher, Julia’s step dad, Amelia - the show never goes into “eh nbd” territory - is is always a symptom of hidden horror.
Tumblr media
4. “Gnome” became friends with Paula because she was a ringer for Irene (because she is a clone!) who was kind to him back in 1970s. Once again, in retrospect, Nazis is so obviously an answer to who is doing stuff - they threw away the “damaged” twin - hell, the “gnome’s” mother hated him and said she wished he died. God. They are horrors. (Side note - how much do I adore that Nazi Prince Marcos (with daddy and granddaddy being high up Nazis in this org) brings them down working with so many types of people they hate - son of “undesirables” (teen druggies) Ivan, resident of psych ward Maria, Jewish Fermin, etc etc. In your face!)
5. Slash goggles activated!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
6. Marcos realizing Caro is the traitor. You know, I forgot this part - no wonder he has horrifying trust issues by the end. Even some of his closest allies betrayed him (either briefly like Caro or long term like Roque.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
7. Marcos continues to be the best brother ever. Seriously. But you know what hits differently on rewatch? Paula saying that sometimes people look good and are good, it’s not always a mismatch - and uses the example of their parents. Ah, the irony!
8. Slash goggles activating again.
Tumblr media
But on a plot note, when Ivan is told Caro is a traitor, his initial reaction is to get in Marcos’ face and defend her; quite a contrast with Caro earlier in the season.
9. When Fermin told Maria he was in love with her, I screamed like I did the first time.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Maria is a fan too. Because a little later, this is going on. And I love that Fermin makes the first move but Maria is the one in charge.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
But also, yet another total hint - the painting they found, that Fermin was looking for, is by Bosch - most famous for his phantasmagorical paintings of horror and hell. (Also, Nazis were known for stealing paintings of their victims.)
10. Caro trying to distract Ivan from her theft of evidence by appealing to his hormones is ummm.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Side note - what the hell school is it where students can full on make out half clad in bright daylight in their rooms and nobody notices. (To be fair, later on, Ivan x Julia were literally full on banging in school, but at that point, the place was openly overrun by Nazis, had the plague and/or was cordoned off by the military, so potential teen STDs were the least of their concerns.)
The thing where it goes from umm to WTF STOP GIRL!!! is when she tells him she loves him - and she never said it before. I do think she means it, even if not in a romantic sense - she feels guilty to him and she definitely appreciates how good he is to her, but she also says it as a distraction and that’s not good! (I do love that she is learning her tone-deaf self-righteousness in s1 was not awesome - here is Caro, the one who was most uncomprehending of people not wanting to search for truth for valid RL reasons,  betraying that search for a valid RL reason of protecting her mother. I never got into any of her romantic stuff, but she had a really good character arc in the show.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
11. She is confronted by the gang for destroying all their evidence and she explains that she was threatened via her mother’s life and seriously, I don’t ship them but Ivan is boyfriend goals.
Tumblr media
Here he is silently comforting her as they watch a snuff film of the judge (they are 16-17 and this is the second snuff video they’ve seen, my god! No wonder they never tell anyone again if they can help it - they get betrayed/it’s futile AND it gets innocent people killed.)
Tumblr media
12. And the ep ends on the “gnome” being killed by the cops, for the sin of being different and for a murder that was actually committed by the evil org but he was blamed for because hey he looks like a freak. Summing up the theme that no authority can be trusted in this world because if they are not actively evil, they are complacent, easily fooled, and judging by appearances - powerful, well-mannered people can never be wrong, but those on the margins or that do not fit in, or are outside the structure (by being young, or with weird abilities like Julia or with mental stay record like Maria or w/e else) will not be listened to.
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
mimikyuno · 9 months
Note
What was irama like at school? Since he's entering Sanremo again I want the tea ☕
omg i forgot mentioning this on tumblr like 2 years ago so at first when i read this ask i was like HOW DO YOU KNOW alsgslsghj
THIS GOT LONG so i’ll put it under a read more cut sorry alahslsh i love talking about good old filippo maria
but anyway he was kinda chill. we were classmates only for a year and a half but he and i were friends actually! basically he had to repeat the first year of high school so he switched to my school, was there for a year and a half and then switched to one of those school that do “two years in one”. last i heard from him he told me he failed the two in one and started a three years in one but then we drifted apart and that was gosh. over 10 years ago? being a little lesbian helped me get close to him bc everyone had a massive crush on him or anyway was intimidated by him so i think he liked that i was a bit weird (autism) and uninterested in him, especially since we went to a school with mostly girls; in my class the first year we were 27 girls vs 2 boys (him being one of the 2).
im pissed at him bc before he switched schools he lent me his one piece mangas (first 5 volumes) and i lent him my woodstock dvd and he just switched schools without warning any of us and he never gave me the dvd back 😤 and i had Just returned him the first volume of one piece which is very hard to find lmao
the best story i have from high school with him is that as i said we were kinda good friends (again why i was also upset he just. switched schools without saying anything to me or anyone else? i mean we still talked after he left but only via text and only sporadically for a year or so) and during one lesson he passed me a paper where he had written a song and he was like “you’re good at writing what do you think of my lyrics?” and i told him they were quite tacky and he got super offended 😭 in retrospect now that he’s a famous singer it’s hilarious to me
as for how he was like as i said, he was chill. honestly because he mostly slept, especially during the first 2-3 periods alsgslsg once our teacher called his parents to discuss this bc she was like “i think your son is doing drugs” and honestly she was right he was smoking soo much weed he was high 24/7 and he was the one who gave 4 of my classmates their first weed. i was there every time bc i hung out with him after school a few times and GOD CHRIST the last one was ugly but also one of my party stories even before he was famous.
WE WERE GONNA STUDY ENGLISH okay! he needed help in correcting the spelling and finishing a presentation for english class so after school we decided to go find a bench and study. as i mentioned above? 90% of the student body was girls, and they all crushed on him. so as we exited school we ran into a former classmate who was repeating the first year (were in the second at the time) and she decided to tag along. filippo just had to smoke before we studied, and he rolled a joint for our friend too. he had this bad habit of always rolling way too much weed (especially for first timers! got another classmate to throw up in class) and this girl straight up FAINTED on us. it was terrifying guys 😭 here we were, 15 and 16 and freaking out about her actually getting seriously sick and having to tell the police we had weed on us alsgslsgsl luckily it all resolved nicely and withou adults involved. he called his girlfriend of the time who ran there on her scooter and helped us take care of Fainted Girl. the most hilarious part of this story to me is that Girlfriend told filippo off and he was just like a little puppy literally this -> 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
BUT THE BEST PART was when Girlfriend ordered him to go to the store to get Fainted Girl food because she was starving and he ran and came back with ham 😭😭 like. prosciutto cotto in busta. his girlfriend and i laughed sm we started almost crying alshalag OF ALL THE SNACKS HE COULD HAVE BOUGHT! but fainted girl slurped that up like crazy and he was acting all smug. his gf and i kept laughing. then WHILE HIGH he drove me on his white vespa (yeah, he was That kind of guy) to where my mom was gonna pick me up and yeah. that was the last time we actually hung out before he switched schools. memorable. the ham part still makes me laugh when i think of his high face holding it alshsks his girlfriend and i were CRYING
sorry this got long but honestly i have even more stories he was chill but also a bit insane. the main reason i dislike him is that he was always quite arrogant. he came from a rich family and everyone crushed on him which gave him such an annoying ego. and the fact that he switched schools without saying anything was a tad rude, especially bc at first he didnt even answer my texts for a couple of weeks. we thought he died LMAO but no he just didn’t value us in the class enough to grace us with information or a goodbye. the fact that he came from a rich family was honestly probably the reason he got into sanremo giovani in the first place anyway. i wont say who his daddy works for bc idk if it’s public information and i dont wanna spread any rumours but. trust me im quite sure he got in bc of connections. all my former classmates and i agree on this lol. he was just a spoiled, arrogant kid who was also quite fun and chill. it just pisses me off how he gets fame and money probably thanks to his family! also how he never gave me my dvd back, im autistic i remember these things alshslsgsj oh and again, im autistic and rly care about these things but we were talking about ww2 in class once and i mentioned that my family at the time was part of the antifascist partisans and after class he was like “your family killed people how are u proud of it?” and i was like EXCUSE ME?! first of all they killed fascists who were like. trying to get people deported and were killing civilians. but he was adamant that being part of the resistance was as bad as being a fascist and that never sat right with me. but he was also 15/16 so i hope his mindset changed. ANYWAY YEAH. good old filippo
0 notes
frontproofmedia · 2 years
Text
Ebanie Bridges Looks To Prove Cynics Wrong In First World Title Defense
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
By Hector Franco
Follow @MrHector_Franco !function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs'); Follow @Frontproofmedia!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');
Published: December 09, 2022
Earlier this year, Ebanie "The Blonde Bomber" Bridges (8-1, 3 KOs) shocked the boxing world by winning a world title. She won a dominant unanimous decision over the longest reigning champion in her division, Maria Cecilia Roman, to become the IBF bantamweight champion. The victory legitimized her to a legion of skeptics who viewed her as more of an attraction due to her looks than a real fighter. 
The truth is Bridges has always been a fighter inside and outside of the ring. The former Australian math teacher first made waves internationally in 2019 by going on a media run doing nonstop interviews to get people to pay attention. It didn't hurt that she played into the thoughts of her critics by wearing lingerie and bikinis to bring more attention to her weigh-ins. 
"Combat sports have been part of my life since I was young," Bridges expressed to Matchroom Boxing. "I started martial arts when I was five. You know, fighting in school or the street, fighting has always been a part of my life. I like hitting people. So I was like you know what why not do it and make money from it." 
However, now that she can call herself a world champion, there is a bigger target on her back. Due to her work outside the ring, she holds the advantage of being a box office draw with less than ten professional fights on her resume. Bridges is conscious that there are still detractors that don't feel she takes the sport of boxing seriously, including her opponent, Shannon "Shotgun" O'Connell (23-6-1, 11 KOs).  
"I've sacrificed everything in my life to be here," Bridges stated on a Matchroom Boxing preview show. "No one can outwork me, my dedication to the sport, my discipline and everything that I've put into it. Anyone that's at the top knows it never comes easy and she's not there yet."
A fellow Australian, Connell is a veteran of the sport and has been a professional for over ten years. Connell has won her share of regional and commonwealth world titles but has yet to win a major world title. She has challenged for world titles in the super featherweight, featherweight, and super bantamweight divisions losing twice by decision and once by fifth-round stoppage. 
At 39, Connelly has all the motivation needed to win a world title, and she won't be intimidated in the slightest by Bridges. 
"I know boxing more than I know my own life," Connell said to Matchroom Boxing. "I've been in there 80 times. I've done this so many times that it's more than normal to me than living everyday life." 
The fight between the Australian pugilists is a grudge match with some personal animosity. Both have taken jabs at one another throughout the lead-up to the battle. The veteran has made it clear that she isn't fond of Bridges' antics outside the ring and feels it's part of an act. 
"She knows what she's doing getting on those scales' half naked in her lingerie," stated Connell. "She knows what she's doing buying Eddie Hearn those sunglasses. She knows everything she's doing."
Bridges, 35, always knew that her personality might rub some the wrong way, but it hasn't deterred the IBF champion from keeping in mind the task at hand. 
"She can say whatever she wants," Bridges declared at the final press conference. "I've been hearing it for years. It's boring. It just bored me, to be honest. All that matters is what happens in the ring on Saturday night. That's when she'll find out how serious I take this sport. 
"I think Shannon O'Connell is my hardest fight and I'm taking it very seriously. I'm not underestimating her at all. I know that she's a great fighter and I know that she's going to come and bring it."
 It has been said that keeping your title is much harder than winning it. Bridges will have her hands full with Connell, who will come as prepared as possible to win her title. No matter what anybody thinks of Bridges outside the ring, if she keeps winning, those opinions will fall on deaf ears. A victory over a more experienced opponent will only expand her career as one of the biggest names in women's boxing. 
Ebanie Bridges will defend her IBF Bantamweight title against Shannon O'Connell as the co-main event at the First Direct Arena in Leeds, England. The card will be shown live on DAZN this Saturday, December 10th starting at 7 pm GMT. 
(Featured Photo: Mark Robinson/Matchroom Boxing)
0 notes
jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years
Text
Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)
Summer IV
Part 07: Crashing Down
series masterlist | previous part
summary: A jarring family emergency forces you to consider the future of your relationship with Rafe Cameron.
a/n: I'm a little bit emotional about this series ending because I've had so much fun writing it! Enjoy the last part and, as always, please come share your reactions with me in my inbox. Okay, that's all from me!
word count: 2.1k words
Tumblr media
Rafe Cameron knew how to text. He was somehow witty, charming, and hilarious all in less characters than a single tweet. Texting with most boys was like talking to a brick wall: single-syllable answers, unironic uses of punctuation, asking “What are you wearing?” before even listening to how your day went. Though, to be fair, Rafe had asked that same question a few times, which always earned him a sarcastic answer in return. Well, except for that one time.
You’d been forced to spill the beans about your dreamy summer romance to Alice and Kensie after one of Rafe’s funnier texts almost made you pee yourself laughing at the lunch table.
“Oh, so he’s a stud muffin,” Alice announced, peering over Kenzie’s shoulder at the photo on your phone.
“Please god don’t call anyone a stud muffin ever again Al,” Kenzie replied.
“What? The 80s are like making a comeback.”
“Yeah, not that,” you countered and Alice huffed.
“He’s totally hot though,” Kenzie said, handing the phone back to you. “And I kinda hate you for not telling us about him.”
You looked down at the picture. Rafe was kissing your check while you grinned up at the camera, the golden hour lighting made the whole thing look rather enchanting. It was your favorite picture of you and him.
“Oh shit,” Kenzie said causing you to look up from the phone. “You’re like in love in love with him.”
“What? No,” you protested. Yes, your brain corrected.
Kenzie glanced over at Alice for backup.
“Besides, I wasn’t hiding him. I just didn’t know if there was anything there to...tell,” you finished.
“I wish I had a handsome summer fling with spectacular cheekbones,” Alice sighed.
“Don’t let your boyfriend hear you saying that.” Kenzie chucked a fry off her tray at Alice who dodged it expertly.
“Oh, please. Matty knows I would dump his ass for someone who looks like a young Chuck Bass any day of the week. Gimme your phone. I wanna see the photos again y/n.”
“I seriously don’t know how you and Matthew have been together for two years,” Kenzie replied.
“Are you kidding? They’re practically made for each other,” you added.
“The phone, please,” Alice interjected. “I wanna thirst over your mans while my boyfriend is sucking up to his English teacher so she doesn’t fail him. Of course, I told him he needed to actually read Wuthering Heights and not just sparknotes it. But did he listen? No. I picked a real winner y’all,” she finished, taking the phone from your outstretched hands. “You sure Rafe doesn’t have any brothers? Not even like a half-step brother?”
So yeah, going great. Against the odds of three thousand miles, the whole thing was somehow working. Long-distance friends with benefits? Check. Well, except for those moments when that nagging feeling in your stomach came back and you’d start overthinking everything. His texts would sit, unread in your phone for days or even a whole week, slowly sinking to the bottom of your messages.
Then came the call from the Kildare Country Hospital in the early hours of a foggy April morning. You should have gone to sleep hours ago but were still up, desperately trying to cram Maria’s lines into your brain while also texting Rafe. The Sound of Music opened in three weeks and your director had already chewed you out twice for not being off-book, something about being an upperclassman and the lead, and what kind of an example were you setting for the rest of the program. Big speeches were kind of your director's thing, you learned to just ride them out.
Around 1 a.m. your phone ran with an incoming FaceTime call from Rafe. You pressed the green acccept button, a smile spread across your face as Rafe’s own filled the screen.
“Hey Broadway Star.”
“Hi Rafe.” The dim lighting of his bedroom made his feature especially striking. “What are you still doing up?”
“Can’t sleep. Plus you’re up too so. How’s the memorizing going?”
“Shitty,” you replied, closing your binder with a sigh. “I’m too tired to do anymore of it tonight anyway.”
“You know, I was thinking I could come to Oregon for your opening night?”
“Really?” The possibility of Rafe sitting in the audience made your heart race.
“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Ward if I can borrow the plane that weekend and I bet Sarah’ll want to come too. I wanna see my girl kill it. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Rafe. You know my friends think you’re hot.”
“Oh, do they?” Rafe replied, rolling over onto his back in his bed.
“Don’t let it get to your head, Cameron.”
The home phone ran but you ignored it, much more invested in your conversation with Rafe. The second time the hospital left a message. Your Nonna’s heart had given out. The prognosis wasn’t good. She had barely any time left.
Your heart dropped as the words echoed over the speaker of the answering machine.
“Rafe,” you said, cutting him off momentarily. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back later. I gotta-” you ended the call before Rafe even had the chance to respond. You dropped your phone on the kitchen table, dashing up the stairs to your parents’ bedroom. Your father was booking a flight for your mother back to the Outer Banks minutes later.
The end had come so quickly, so unexpectedly. It was almost like that made it harder. There'd been just enough time for your mom and uncle to get to the Outer Banks, sitting on each side of your Nonna as her final breaths passed through her lungs. Now, everyone was there to say goodbye one last time. Uncle Austin and his fiancé. Your mom and dad. Both your siblings. The entire population of Figure Eight.
☼☼☼
Rain drizzled down from the dark, gray clouds looming overhead. It was as if Mother Nature was mourning your Nonna too, hiding the sunshine away.
Three baby ducks followed their mama into the man-made pond at the edge of the cemetery. You watched their tiny feet kick up small waves disturbing the peaceful water and the tears silently slipped down your face.
The cars were waiting to take you back to your Nonna's house for the wake. The same house with the for-sale sign now stuck in the front yard. The for-sale sign with Rose's patronizing grin that you were starting to really hate. Your dad had handled that. Listing the house. He'd handled most of the funeral arrangement's actually because your mother had been too sunken into her grief to make any decision. Sending out the invitations, picking out your Nonna's casket, choosing the flowers. Your mother clung to him during the entire funeral, weeping into his shoulder.
“Y/n?” Rafe's voice called out from behind you and you turned to see him walked toward you. He’d stood at the back of the church with his family during the funeral. You had longed for him to be sitting in the first pew next to you, to have had his hand to hold onto to ground you, but it hardly would have been appropriate. Your Nonna would have sooner risen from the dead than have had a Cameron front row at her funeral.
As soon as he was close enough, Rafe reached for you, pulling your body tight into him. Your head landed on his chest and the sobs came moments later. God, he always smelled the same. He just let you cry, holding you close, smoothing his hand over your hair.
“I know you’re selling your grandma’s house but I was thinking you could stay with me for the summer," he said as your tears began to slow. It was hard to imagine that you wouldn't return to the Outer Banks once school let out. It was the first week of May already and you could feel the tourist-attracting town waking up. But selling the house just made more sense. Your older sister was already living her life in New York, a real adult life. Next summer, you'd be moving out too, headed to college. The house would sit empty for eight months out of the year, your family couldn't keep it and your uncle certainly didn’t want it. Selling it just had to happen.
You stepped back, slipping out of his embrace. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rafe.”
“Why not?”
“Cause we’re like Romeo and Juliet.”
“I copied Cleo’s notes for that unit," he joked, trying to lighten to damp mood. “Plus I was never a fan of Leo DiCaprio so I didn’t finish the movie either.”
“It means we’re not supposed to be together, you and me. And whenever we try, the universe rips us apart. We hurt each other.”
Rafe shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearly wanting to reach for you again but stopping himself from doing it. “But I can't lose you.”
You reached your hand out, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Oh Rafe, don’t you get it? You never really had me.” You stood up onto your tiptoes to kiss him just like you had the first time three years ago. Rafe barely parted his lips, kissing you back gently. Your hand cupped his face, your thump stroking over his cheek. It was a goodbye. Both of you knew it. It was an ending and this was your closure. You pulled away, your hand falling away from his face.
You couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words. Your eyes fell to the ground. You needed to walk away now. You side-stepped Rafe but he grabbed your waist, turning you back around to face him.
“So that’s it? You’re not even gonna try to fight for us?”
“What even is there to fight for, Rafe? I’ve been fighting for us for the past four years. If we were supposed to be together that car wouldn’t have crashed into ours, I wouldn’t have fallen for Evan when I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at my Nonna’s funeral. What? Are we supposed to do long distance for all of college? I hardly know who I am right now. I have no idea who I’ll be in the next four years. Our future selves might not even like each other. I’m not gonna wait around for you Rafe and I would never ask you to do that for me.” You twirled the small, star charm between your fingers, a nervous habit you'd developed over the past year. His eyes dropped down to your neck momentarily and his adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed his next weeks.
“You were it for me, you know. I tried to give a fuck about anyone else but I couldn’t get your gorgeous, stupid face out of my mind. I only wanted you.” Rafe paused gauging your reaction “I was falling in love with you.”
Your eyes wandered over his stoic expression. “The feeling was mutual, Rafe Cameron.”
He dropped your wrist but you both stood, not moving or saying anything. “Do you wanna walk me back to the car?”
“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your other hand held onto his bicep so you walked together through the graveyard back to the parking lot.
The moment felt precious and delicate, like the fragile china your Nonna used to collect. You wondered what would happen to all that china.
Rafe placed a chaste kiss on your lips before opening the door of the car.
“I’ll miss you,” you said, the words hanging in the air meaning so much.
“Me too,” Rafe agreed.
You wanted one more kiss, one more passionate declaration of how much this all had meant but that would make leaving Rafe so much more impossible.
You climbed into the car, dropping Rafe’s hand in the process.
“See you around Cameron.” You knew it wouldn’t happen but it felt better than a goodbye.
He smiled back. “Maybe so.”
Perhaps Rafe was right and you’d both end up at a small liberal arts college in California taking the same second-year Econ class with a professor who always smelled like weed. Perhaps the stars would align and two of you would realize the universe wasn’t trying to keep you apart. It was just waiting for the right moment to show you that the love you had for each other was the soulmates, forever and ever kind of love. Perhaps you would get married and Sarah would be your maid of honor, of course. You’d buy back your Nonna’s house to raise your troubling-making kids in. Perhaps, you would find your way back and wake up each day and choose each other again and again.
Or perhaps, he'd always be your right-person-wrong-time. And, in the end, the passing days will steal away your memories of the blue-eyed boy from the Outer Banks.
taglist! @oreoenthusiast13
63 notes · View notes
magicforjournals · 3 years
Text
The Green Dress (A Story About Loki) Chapter one : Him
Summary : A love story between a simple girl and Loki. Having been friends with Natasha for a couple of years now, you were used to her meddling in your love life. You and Nat met back when she was “working” for Tony; both of them had attended the opening of the new school, which you worked at, dedicated to Stark. She had walked over to ask if you needed help with anything as you were setting up the donations table. Your friendship developed from there on and you basically became sisters. You don’t think, however, that she was ready for how Loki changed your life.
Warning : None
You smile as you look down at your phone, which was ringing on your desk. Of course, Nat would call you right as the school day ends.
“Hey! What’s going on?” You say as you answer the call.
“Why do I only work with children?” Nat whines. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job! But God, I wish I didn’t have to babysit them, you know.”
“I know hun, but are you honestly that surprised?” You reply as you’re picking up your class material and shoving everything in your bag. “How about I pick you up from work, and we go out for some drinks? I don’t have any grading to do today!” That was a rare occurrence. You usually had so much work. Your students were some of the more gifted ones in the entire school, and you always had extra work for them to do, meaning more work for you.
“Damn, you’re either slacking or you’re very efficient teach! We are having a party tonight at the compound remember?” Shit, you had forgotten about it. Who the hell has a party on a Thursday night?! And of course, you had promised the Avengers you’d attend… smart.
“I didn’t forget,“ Lies. “I have to go home and change, I’ll head over right after.“
“I stopped by your apartment to grab your clothes for you already,“ Nat says, all giddy. “I told you that giving me a key was a mistake. And I’m parked outside, no drinking and driving tonight! So hurry up, it’s freezing out here!” Oh God, why were you not surprised that she had done all of that?
“You’ll be the death of me Romanoff. I’ll be out in a sec then,“ you sigh. This woman was sometimes too much.
You chuckle as you finish packing your bag and walk out, locking the door to your classroom behind you. As you open the door to the outside, a chilling breeze greets you, making you shiver and shut your coat closed against your chest. As you make sure your car is locked, pressing the button three times just to be sure, you see Nat waving at you from the driver seat of her car. You think about the first time she told you about her job and her past, both of you drunk in your living room, swapping stories. Of course, your past wasn’t as rough as hers, but still, you felt connected to her in many ways. She quickly became your best friend, and the one you called after each miserable date, or whenever the awful guy you were dating dumped you. After your last breakup, around 8 months ago, she had vowed to find you the perfect man. She had talked about setting you up with one of the Avengers, but nothing had come of it.
“You look exhausted! What the hell did those kids do to you today?!“ Are the first words Nat greets you with when you open the car door. Geez, you didn’t think you looked that bad.
“You look nice too Nat!“ You smirk back, tossing your purse on the back seat.
“Get in loser,“ She answers, smiling. This friendship is definitely one of a kind! As you get in, you see that Nat seems a little on edge - almost nervous. This is odd. Usually, Nat isn’t the nervous type. She starts driving away, and you lean back on the leather seat, wondering what is bothering your friend. You know not to pry sometimes but this is different, she almost seems excited?
“Spill it Red“ You finally say.
“Ok, I’ll tell you, but don’t be mad at me ok?“ She replies in a small voice, a guilty look on her face.
“Oh no, I don’t like when you make that face. What did you do this time?“ You’re even scared to ask that.
“Steve is gonna be there tonight.“
Steve… Steve Rogers, the man you’ve had a HUGE crush on since the day you met. He was just so sweet and so considerate. And hot. Oh God was he ever hot. You’ve dreamt of climbing him like a tree and feel his strong hands on your body, around your neck. Nat had once tried to talk him into asking you out, but he never did. He didn’t want to force you into this crazy mess that was his life, that much he had told you face to face. From that day on, you rarely were in the presence of one another, not that you’ve been avoiding him nor he avoiding you, it just happened that way. There still was this weird feeling, tension between you guys, and being in his company made you sort of on edge. It was crazy, you knew nothing would happen between the two of you.Nat was still hoping however.
“That’s ok Nat. I’m over it. Why do you feel bad though? About the fact that Rogers is gonna be there?“ And then it hit you… She had picked out your outfit for tonight. “Oh no, Natasha, what did you grab out of my closet?“ You ask, panic in your voice.
“The green dress.”
You nod and sigh in relief. Ok, that wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You liked your emerald green dress. It was a little dressy, off the shoulder, hugged all your curves, but it was nice! It made you feel beautiful and powerful whenever you wore it too. “Oh, and Thor is apparently bringing his brother too. They’re trying to rebuild their relationship, or whatever. I still don’t trust Loki, but Thor seems adamant that he’s changed, so we’ll see.“ Natasha adds, shrugging her shoulders, quite indifferent about the situation and making the turn on to the road to the compound, stopping to scan her ID at the gate.
You hadn’t met Loki yet. In the past couple of years, you had of course heard about Loki Laufeyson, the villain that tried to take over Earth. However, to you, it seemed that he was a misunderstood child and was finally lashing out after all those years. Guess you’ll be confirming your suspicions tonight.
Natasha pulls up in her parking space next to Tony’s multiple cars and you both get out, just chatting about your day at school, how your students are advancing rapidly. She cares so much about your job and your kids, it’s endearing. She would’ve been a great teacher, a mother even, if she hadn’t been brought up in that place… You subconsciously shiver at the thought of the Red Room Natasha mentioned once a long time ago, but that bit of information was forever etched into your brain.
As you walk into the building, making your way to Nat’s little apartment, you guys bump into Pepper, her arms full of documents and looking a little frazzled.
“Woah, you okay there Pepper?“ You ask, instinctually reaching out to help her.
“Yeah,“ she sighs, out of breath. “Just taking care of some business for Stark Industries. Tony had to sign a couple of things for me to go ahead with the deals.“ Poor Pepper, she worked so hard as the CEO, she often forgets to take time for herself.
“Why don’t you come by my place, we’re getting ready for the party tonight. You could use a drink Pep, seriously.“ Nat replies, taking the papers out of Pepper’s arms. “I’ll ask someone to drop these off at your office. Door is unlocked, you guys go, I’ll meet you there in a second!“ She nudges you and Pepper down the hall.
You’ve always liked Nat’s small studio apartment, it was cozy and peaceful. Like promised, Natasha met up with you guys after only a couple of minutes and you three started getting ready for the party, drinking, doing your makeup - something out of a bad rom-com honestly.
“So why are you guys having this party again?” You ask as you’re walking down the stairs to the living room/bar idea. Nat had done your makeup, (she was so talented honestly!) and you were wearing that green dress she had also picked out for you, you felt beautiful and you were excited to let loose on a Thursday night (you still thought that was weird), your week had been rough so far.
“It’s to celebrate Maria’s birthday, she didn’t want to do anything huge so we thought she’d like to hang out with friends.” Pepper replies.
And friends there was, everyone was there. Even Bucky! You hadn’t seen him in a while, he stayed away often, trying to figure out where he fits in this new life of his now. Nonetheless, you always enjoyed his company, he was quite funny and you were happy to see him again.
As you reached the bottom of the stairs you scanned the room, looking for Steve, hoping that tonight’s interactions with him won’t be too weird, when you land on a pair of stunning blue/green eyes just staring at you. Almost immediately, you feel your heart flutter and your stomach twist, a warm feeling spreading inside of you. Who was that? Your eyes start moving down the stranger’s face, below his mesmerizing eyes, framed by thick black brows, there was a straight nose, thin but beautiful lips, dimples as he was smiling at you, a strong jaw…
“That’s Loki,” Nat whispers in your ear. “I don’t know why Thor thought it’d be a good idea to bring him tonight.” She keeps talking, but you don’t hear anything. All you see is this fascinating man, who is smiling kindly at you from across the room, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
So that’s him. Loki.
71 notes · View notes
Text
TGF Thoughts-- 5x07: And the fight had a detente...
This episode is a wild ride, so if you haven’t seen it yet and you aren’t spoiled, don’t read this. Just go watch it.  
Ave Maria plays over a photo montage of cancelled men, including Kevin Spacey, Louie CK, and Scott Rudin. (Scott Rudin, if you don’t know the name, is a Broadway/Hollywood producer who treated his assistants like absolute shit. He’s the inspiration for the possessed producer episode of Evil—I think it’s the third episode of the series—and Robert King does not like him one bit.)  
And then the episode opens with Wackner, Del, and Cord discussing the Armie Hammer cannibalism ordeal. Whew, this is not what I wanted to be thinking about first thing on a Thursday morning. I do not think I can put into words how boring I find debating whether or not someone should have been “cancelled.”  Cancellation is usually about rich people facing consequences for shitty actions, and those consequences have never involved anyone’s rights being infringed upon, so why should I care about someone being cancelled? And, while I know that society/people on Twitter don’t always understand nuance, I’d like to think that when it comes to the most notable examples of cancellation... no one is losing their livelihood over false or minor allegations.  
There are so, so, so many issues in the world. Cancellation affects a handful of high profile, usually white, straight, male, celebrities. Why should I give a shit about, like, Louie CK not being able to make as much money as he used to? I just do not and cannot find it interesting.
I’m not surprised David Cord and Del Cooper find this topic interesting—Del likely hates worrying that all of his comedians could get cancelled and put him in a financially tricky spot; Cord probably says things like “Woke Mob” unironically. And as for Wackner, he almost certainly has a skewed understanding of what actually happens when someone’s cancelled and sees a place where he can step in and add some order. Blah. It’s just so boring.
"People are getting canceled without a trial, no evidence presented against them,” Wackner says. This is not it, Wackner! This is such a strawman argument. We don’t need the legal system to adjudicate people being assholes to each other, and in cases where a crime is committed or a particular individual can sue for damages, that is what happens. If you act shitty and then your sponsors realize you’re toxic and drop you, like, it is what it is. You can feel free to respond via a Notes App screenshot where half of your apology is actually just whining about cancel culture and then you say “I’m sorry if anyone took offense at what I did” instead of saying “I’m sorry I said/did hurtful things” and when people don’t take that seriously, maybe it’s because you didn’t take it seriously, either.  
“There are a lot of reasons these accusations never go to trial. The victims finally get to accuse the victimizer face to face,” Wackner explains. Were the victims asking for this?
Marissa shares my question, noting that if the victims don’t want to speak up, then the victimizer would have the court to himself. This raises a new question: who is even bringing these cases? Are Wackner, Cord, and Del just deciding they want to do things as cases and then getting everyone else on board? This sounds bad!  
Apparently, according to Wackner, “if #MeToo relies on mob rule, it’ll exhaust itself.” What... evidence is there for this? I get why people panic about the POSSIBILITY of this happening, even though I don’t share their panic, but is there any actual evidence that #MeToo is losing steam because of false allegations because cancellation isn’t a formal process? I don’t believe there is.  
The test case we have the pleasure of seeing this week is about “Louie CK two,” whom I shall refer to as LCK2 instead of learning his name.  
Now, suddenly, Marissa is asking one of LCK2’s victims to testify. She doesn’t want to participate because it’s just another way for LCK2 to get his career back. Marissa decides to be idealistic and say this is a real opportunity to confront LCK2 with his crime. I suppose she isn’t wrong, and that is what happens next, but, again, meh.
Apparently David Cord is going to defend LCK2. You know what would get cancelled in five seconds? A David Cord funded show that has David Cord actually on it, railing against cancel culture! Can you IMAGINE the thinkpieces?
God, when is this episode going to move on from this extremely irritating premise?
Marissa decides she wants to be the prosecutor. Wackner says if she prosecutes LCK2, she has to prosecute the academic who used a word that sounds like the n-word and lost her job for it.  Marissa thinks the academic shouldn’t have been fired, but Wackner insists she has to take both cases.
“Let’s go into court,” Wackner says, and, thank goodness, we do go into court: REAL court, where we are talking about REAL issues.  
In court, Liz and Diane are suing the police over the death of a black girl who was tased by the police. Her friend is on the stand and it’s quite emotional. Also, Diane tries to pass Liz a note and Liz ignores it. Why would you have two name partners on this case if they aren’t even going to try to work together?  
You can tell things are tense between two TGF characters when they talk at the same time in court but are on the same side.  
Hiiiiii Abernathy! ILY!
The victim had a heart condition, which the police lawyer argues is the actual cause of death. Police lawyer also argues that since this witness posted some ACAB lyrics on Instagram, she must be biased. Eyeroll.
Liz calls the other lawyer racist; the other lawyer tries to make Liz look like she is only on her client’s side because she’s black and that Liz is being absurd.  
Cancel culture court happens. We’re dealing with the academic case first. I don’t feel like talking about the cancel culture shit too much, so here is my take on this case as a whole: (1) I don’t think the actual word in question, which isn’t actually the n-word, is enough on its own to get someone fired (2) I also don’t think anyone can use that word, regardless of its meaning or history, without understanding how it will come across. (3) The teacher did not get fired for simply using this word once (4) This teacher believes that anyone who is from a group that’s been marginalized in history should have to confront that marginalization with as little sympathy and respect as possible because it will help them be more resilient. So basically, if you are from the dominant group then you don’t get challenged. She believes it is her job to do this. She is an egotistical asshole who has no business teaching.  
Cord wants everyone to have to say the full word in question. He says this pretentiously (though I don’t think saying “Said word” is that pretentious, tbh) and Wackner rules against him and also makes him wear a powdered wig for using “obtuse language.”
Marissa is not trying at all with this case at first, since she doesn’t believe in it. That’s shitty, Marissa. If you want to be a lawyer at a firm like RL you’re going to have to fight for all of your clients.  
Marissa makes a Latin joke and ends up in a powdered wig, too.  
The prof says, in one sentence, that she didn’t know what she was doing using the word and also that the black student who took offense thinks college is supposed to be warm, cuddly, and unchallenging. So it was a challenge, then, prof?  
I like this student. And I love that she calls Marissa out for obviously not trying.  
“The optics matter. Racially,” Diane says to Liz, who agrees. Diane, strategically, makes it about gender first (the cop is male, some jurors may react to a woman questioning a man), then makes it about how she should be the one questioning the cop since Liz is black. It would make the jury more “comfortable” (hey, there’s that word again!) Diane says. She says she is being pragmatic.  
Diane says that she could be “more dispassionate”. Be or come across as, Diane? Either way, Liz, who knows full well what the optics look like given that this isn’t her first time in court, doesn’t agree with Diane that they need to come across as dispassionate.  
Then Diane just changes the subject to the firm drama. “Liz, you’re shoving me out of my name partner position because of my race.” Like that’s the issue!  
“I am doing nothing. You are the one who got our racist clients to whine to STR Laurie about us,” Liz counters. “Those clients bring in a great deal of money, and they are not racists,” Diane insists. Yes. Sure. Diane just happened to choose white male clients who were “comfortable” with her to talk to. I have no doubt they’d have reacted poorly to any change in representation, but Diane was counting on those particular clients having some discomfort with their new lawyers.  
Liz calls her out and Diane’s still trying to play it like she just had to inform her long-term clients and it just had to be done this way. But, when Liz asks if Diane thinks the clients would’ve had the same reaction if their new representation were to be white, Diane says that maybe her clients are worried about racial grudges. So, what you’re saying is you knew exactly what you were doing, huh, Diane?  
I get why Diane doesn’t like being pushed out, because who would, but Diane, this isn’t about you. And if you didn’t want to make it about race, perhaps you shouldn’t have appeared on a panel about how great it is that your firm is majority black? You can’t have it both ways.  
Liz notes that Diane felt “entitled” to her name partnership. This is accurate, though based on revenue and stature I don’t think it can be denied that Diane deserves name partner status (generally speaking). Diane went over to RBK, was like, “sure, I’ll be a junior partner, thank you so much for the opportunity, I can’t even pay my capital contribution right now but what if I were name partner in three months?” and that is both entitlement and knowing one’s own worth, but mostly entitlement.  
(Liz does not act entitled, but if we want to get into who deserves their partnership more—again generally speaking, not their partnership at a black firm specifically—it is definitely Diane! Liz literally only has this job because her dad was important.)  
“I think that Barbara Kolstad was shoved out because you felt entitled to her position,” Liz shouts. OMG, a mention of Barbara?!?!?!??!?!? THANK YOU, WRITERS!!!
(This is a slight bit of revisionist history but I’ll allow it, and I think it’s right in thought even if it’s not right on the details. Barbara wasn’t shoved out—Barbara chose to go to a different firm that offered her a better deal—but I don’t think Barbara would’ve been on that trajectory had it not been for Diane’s presence at the firm. Barbara was in charge of a firm that shared her values when, suddenly, her partner decided that they needed to pursue profit over all else and needed Diane to execute that strategy. Maybe no one made a move directly against her, but Adrian and Diane changed the mission of RBK until it was no longer somewhere Barbara wanted to work.
“We can’t work together if you don’t respect me,” Diane screams at Liz. “No, we can’t work together if you use race cynically,” Liz responds. Diane gets even angrier, swears a bunch, and then says “You want to come after me, you come after me with an honest argument about my lack of competence, my lack of worth.” Diane, you are fighting a completely different battle here! You can be entitled and also correct and also good at your job. This is what you used to accuse Alicia of all the time. The fact you’ve turned this into something about your skill level when it’s about the meaning of having a black firm is only proving Liz’s point.
“Your unworthiness—which you don’t seem to want to acknowledge—is that you can’t be the top dog in a black firm,” Liz says. Exactly. But Diane just storms off.
Now the cop is on the stand. He did not know the victim had a heart condition. Uh, obviously, why would he have known that?  
Liz is aggressive in court; Diane thinks this is the wrong strategy. Without knowing who is on the jury, I have no idea which one of them is correct.  
The next move is to get the cop’s ex-wife, who he abused, on the stand.  
Goodie, it’s cancel culture court. Things go well for Marissa, but Del wants to know why Marissa wasn’t that passionate about the n-word case. Marissa says she feels like it’s not the n-word, like that is a valid reason to not represent your client to the best of your ability. “It is. It always is,” says Del.  
Marissa heads back to RL, and as she walks, the camera follows her and moves through the space until we end up in Liz’s office, where she gets a news alert about the cop from the COTW. He’s been killed, seemingly in retaliation for his actions. The news is quick to suggest the trial might’ve encouraged the killing. “Oh, fuck.” Diane says as she watches the news. Aaaand credits (at 20 minutes in!)  
From the promos, I thought this was going to be a Very Serious Episode about police brutality. From the opening, I thought it was going to be an insufferable episode about cancel culture. I was wrong! (Though, I suppose, some of the cancel culture stuff is still insufferable.)  
Yay for Carrie Preston, who directed this episode. I read an interview with her and she talked about how there’s a “look book” for directing TGF episodes and I have never wanted to see anything as badly as I want to see this look book. (Am I exaggerating? Probably. But I might not be.)  
After credits, Marissa finds Carmen and Jay to ask them if “n-word-ly" is offensive. She acknowledges she’s being annoying but they let her continue anyway. Jay finds it offensive. Carmen does not. This seems fitting with their characters, and I love that this scene acknowledges that not every black person is going to have the exact same reaction to everything.  
I want Carmen to have more to do! While I’m glad the show isn’t forcing her to have a large role in every plot just because, I feel like she’s gone missing for the middle part of the season. My guess is that their priority with Carmen is setting her up to be an ongoing part of the cast who grows into being someone we want a lot from rather than forcing her plots from the start... but surely we could get a little more of her! I doubt she’s a one-season character like I assume Wackner will be.  
The cop’s murder changes the vibe in court. Abernathy calls a moment of silence in his memory. “We’re fucked,” Liz whispers to Diane.  
And indeed they are. The cop’s ex no longer wants to talk about how abusive he was—she wants to talk about how great he was. Whose idea was it to still put her on the stand?! Idk about legal procedures but this seems like a really avoidable mistake!
Diane argues that the cop’s death has prejudiced the jury. Abernathy decides to call a “voir dire de novo,” using an obtuse Latin phrase that would not be permitted in Wackner’s court. (Love the little parallels in this episode, like this, the transition between courts earlier, and how much of Marissa being called out on her whiteness feels like a thematic extension of everything going on with Diane.)
Cancel culture court continues. Carmen shows up.
I don’t really get how June, the victim of LCK2, potentially losing a headlining gig for a bad set instead of retaliation from LCK2, scores him a point. One, if she was a rising store, one bad set shouldn’t have damned her career. Two, isn’t it enough to prove that he masturbated in front of women who didn’t want him to do that???????  
Having June perform her act with no prep in Wackner’s court so they can judge whether or not she is funny is a wildly bad idea. So now Wackner is an arbiter of humor as well as cancel culture?  
This whole system is silly and I reject the whole premise but June should not lose two points for the logic that Wackner + the audience don’t find June funny --> June must’ve had her career derailed because she just isn’t funny (how’d she book the headliner gig, then?) --> LCK2 scores points??? He still masturbated in front of her without her consent!  
Using cancel culture to show Wackner’s court is going too far/slipping into bad territory: I’m on board with this. Using Wackner’s court to actually comment on cancel culture: Ugh. The writers seem to be trying to do both.  
Lol at Abernathy having Stacey Abrams’ book on his desk.
Marissa argues the n-word case more passionately, because these writers love to make situations that seemed clear cut seem more uncertain. It’s no coincidence they have the sexual harassment case look murkier (though, again, June being bad at comedy does not negate the sexual harassment!) right before they have the n-work case begin to tilt in favor of the professor’s cancellation.
Hahah what bullshit about trying to prepare the students for a world that won’t be kind to them. Do you seriously think your black students need YOU to prepare them?  
This lady thinks history classes have to describe rapes in detail to get students to sympathize. No, no they fucking do not.  
She also says she’d use the n-word if she were teaching a topic where it might come up. Um, no?
Mr. Elk (this is what I call Ted Willoughby, Idiot Reporter, after he said “things of that elk” in his first appearance) is attacking Diane and Liz on his show. Diane and Liz are, apparently, “Marxist slip-and-fall lawyers” and Mr. Elk plays a clip of Diane saying cops need to be held accountable. Obviously, this was before the cop’s death and meant to be about the legal system, but it looks like Diane’s calling for his murder. I also love how they go out of their way to only pause the clip on unflattering frames of Diane.  
Liz wants to use this in court—I forgot that Liz is super sneaky but this tracks; she is always quick to use things to her advantage and we’ve known that about her since her strategy with the DNC in 2x07 (to make outlandish allegations and then drop them before presenting proof). Julius wants to get Liz and Diane security.
That security is, apparently Jay. I think they’ve shown Jay as security before when Lucca went viral. I didn’t understand it then and I don’t understand it now.
I was, briefly, worried for Liz and Diane’s safety, especially after I saw all the angry cops waiting for them in court. Then I thought, oh, well at least they’re in court, they should be safe from being shot there. Then I remembered 5x15. Then I laughed at myself.  
Liz’s new strategy works and Abernathy uses more Latin. But, they can’t get any more jurors thrown. (They’re going for a mistrial.)
Oh, Carmen is back again! She did SO MUCH in that court scene where she appeared and then disappeared! She’s chatting with Marissa and spots LCK2 in the RL offices.  
Apparently, LCK2 negotiated a contract with Del, with David Lee’s help. (Why would David Lee be doing entertainment law?) Suddenly everything makes sense to Marissa.
She calls Del to the stand. This—and, honestly, everything after this—makes me wonder how much of this would ever make it to air. Why would Del televise this?
What a shock—Del wants LCK2 back on his streaming service (which I don’t think has a name LOL).  
Somehow Marissa’s questions become about Wackner and whether or not Wackner is an impartial judge, which doesn’t seem like the core issue. Wackner has made it pretty clear that his stance is that he doesn’t care if others are corrupt around him or try to use him; he’s going to be impartial no matter what. Why not play that up instead of making the entire show look staged and Wackner look complicit, Marissa?  
Like, why is Marissa asking Wackner if he’s prejudged the case?! Why isn’t she just trying to like, get him to declare a mistrial because there is a conflict of interest? She can make a version of this argument without accusing Wackner of PREJUDGING, which she knows—I know, so she knows—will set him off. Wackner truly believe he thinks he is impartial. It’s not smart strategy to question that (even if we all know that Wackner is not impartial!)
Wackner blows up at Marissa and shouts at her. He tells her to get the fuck out of court.
This is certainly dramatic, but again, would Del ever choose to air this? I doubt it.  
On her way to work, Diane notices hot pink spray paint in the elevator. When she exits the elevator, the whole firm is gathered in the lobby. Someone has painted COP KILLERS across the elevator bank. “Security doesn’t know how they got in,” Jay says. “Of course they don’t,” Diane responds. “They suggest we call the cops,” Jay says. I love this little exchange. I wasn’t exactly wondering how someone got in, but I like the show making it clear how unprotected Diane and Liz are right now and why.
Julius appears and says that Mr. Elk is saying something new. Diane and Liz sit down to watch and the tone of this episode completely shifts.  
I had forgotten completely that Liz’s dad’s assault issues are out in public until Mr. Elk called him “a disgraced civil rights leader.” It doesn’t feel like they’re out in public! Also I would believe Mr. Elk calling him disgraced for no reason at all.  
Y’all, when Mr. Elk said the name “Duke Roscoe,” my jaw dropped. WHAT A CALLBACK.  
This scene, and really, everything in this plot from here on out, is a delight. It just keeps going and going. It is the best kind of fanservice.
1x11 has been, for no real reason, on my mind since 5x04. It popped out to me as an example of this show’s humor so I talked about it in that recap. I nearly mentioned it in my 5x06 recap when Diane laughed at Julius’s suggestion that they start a firm together. I rewatched 1x11, by complete chance, like two weeks ago. How weird that I'm somehow on the show’s wavelength about this!  
Also I made a joke about Mr. Elk last week without knowing he’d be back this episode. I would like to think I conjured this.  
(1x11 is a really pivotal episode for TGW, even if it isn’t one of the most notable episodes overall. It's composer David Buckley’s first episode and that ending, with Diane laughing, is one of the earliest moments of TGW showing its sense of humor and playing to its strengths.)
Mr. Elk notes that they “rarely see” Kurt, which is apparently evidence that Diane is a lesbian. Hahahahahahah. Mr. Elk also wouldn’t want to note Kurt, despite his recent controversy, because to his viewers, Kurt’s beliefs would make Diane seem more sympathetic.  
GUYS, THE WRITERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CALLBACK TO AN ICONIC MOMENT FROM AN EPISODE THAT AIRED OVER A DECADE AGO AND THEN BUILD ON IT. I cannot express how fucking happy this makes me.  
Now, Mr. Elk says, Diane and Liz are an item!  
What’s better than Diane laughing hysterically at the original allegations? Diane doing it again, eleven years later, JOINED BY LIZ.  
This also works super well to cut the tension between Diane and Liz. I assume this isn’t the end of the name partnership drama, but I think it might be the end of Diane and Liz being pissed at each other. Since the name partnership drama was never really about Diane and Liz (Liz seems to want Diane to stay on...), I’m fine with that.  
Because this is an episode full of callbacks that delight me, Del asks Liz when he gets to meet her son! HER SON STILL EXISTS!  
It sounds like Liz and Del still aren’t fully official, which clarifies why they don’t seem to be a couple in public.  
Del brings up the Diane rumor (jokingly) and Liz jokes along. I love that we get to see this playful side of Liz.  
Wackner’s watching his outburst with regret. Del calms him down and notes that this is good TV (why... would Del air this... it makes DEL look worse than anyone!). Wackner calls Marissa to apologize; she picks up and accepts his apology.  
Abernathy calls Liz and Diane into chambers. He’s worried he was “insensitive”-- he's noticed the tension between Liz and Diane, but now he thinks it was a lover’s spat.
Diane puts on a poker face and leans in towards Liz. She starts nodding attentively and thanks Abernathy. Liz smiles and doubles down: she’s not just going to play along, she’s going to milk it. She gets a juror kicked for homophobia, which means a mistrial. Shameless. I love it.  
Diane and Liz playing off each other as Abernathy tries to look like as much of an ally as possible is comedy gold.  
Diane even calls Liz darling. Omg.  
LCK2 is on the stand, being charismatic and annoying. Of course he is. This is what happens when you give someone who is known for being able to connect with a crowd... a crowd and the benefit of the doubt.
LCK2 is talking about “stupid women” in his new set. Why... is Del giving that a platform at all? See, the fact that Del thinks it is not only interesting but also somehow essential to let LCK2 make jokes about sexual harassment is why I can’t take this episode seriously. Why should I be more outraged about someone who did something shitty not getting a trial for his shitty but legal behavior than I am about powerful people continuing to offer shitty people platforms? Only one of these seems outrageous to me.
Wackner decides that the professor did something “awful but lawful” and that’s it. So you’re saying that if it isn’t illegal, it doesn’t get decided in your court, either? What was the point of this, then?  
The professor says she doesn’t want that—she wants the school to know she’s being punished so she can get her job back. The student storms out, rightfully. Wackner’s job isn’t to offer someone who wants punishment some form of penance, like she can exchange community service hours for offensive remarks. It’s to... well, idk what it is to do, since this whole thing doesn’t really make sense and he makes the rules, but I don’t think his verdict has to be about giving anyone what they want. I’m disappointed that Wackner comes up with a punishment and I don’t think it’s going to get her her job back.  
LCK2 loses, too, because he hasn’t made amends. Wackner doesn’t want to fine him because he’s too rich for a fine to matter. Cord argues that LCK2 deserves a second chance. I mean, sure, but is he being denied a second chance? He doesn’t deserve an easy path back to his fame just because he wants it.  
Wackner mentions prison. At first I was like, oh, that’s a nice throwaway line that he mentioned prison! This ties into what I was saying a few weeks ago about how Wackner likes the institutions that already exist—he just thinks they’re imperfect! It’s fitting that he’s not a prison abolitionist!  
And then the episode actually went there: Wackner, thanks to David Cord’s private prison company, actually sentences LCK2 to prison. This is deeply uncomfortable (and of questionable legality). Wackner’s system is just going to recreate prison? Worse, private prison? He’s creating an unchecked, privatized legal system?! This sounds bad! Kudos to the show for taking this to some place so dark—I knew Wackner’s system would start to show cracks, but I didn’t realize they’d go this far.  
And I’m not sure what the end game is with this! All I know is I’m not on board with Wackner sending people to prison (except as a plot—I am very on board with this plot) and neither is Marissa.
I do not think viewers of the reality show will like the prison twist or the fact that Cord is financing a court and prison! Can you imagine the scandal!
And what do the contracts look like that allow Wackner to sentence someone to prison? Can LCK2 leave any time he wants? If so, then how does the prison sentence help? If not, is that legal?  
Del wants it to be a 2 week sentence, not 3, because this means LCK2 will have to miss his taping in two weeks. I have many questions. (1) Is Wackner’s show airing live? If not, then why do they need to rush the taping of the special? They could push it quite easily. (2) Why can’t they push the taping? This guy is a huge deal and enough potential $$ that Del wants to rehabilitate his career... so why does the taping have to be on this particular day and time?  
Is there really an Exxon Mobile case, I wonder?  
I like that we spend a good amount of time watching Marissa’s reactions to this latest addition to Wackner’s court. Combined with the score, Marissa’s facial expression serves to underline that private prisons are not good here! This isn’t Wackner getting legitimate methods of enforcement... this is just opening a pandora’s box of highly questionable extrajudicial practices.  
I do love that this episode ends up here: it starts out like it’s going to be about cancel culture silliness and ends up being about the escalation of Wackner’s tactics.
Funny how both of the cancelled people end up being found guilty by Wackner, huh! Almost like they actually did something wrong and faced the consequences!  
Liz and Diane get called in to talk to Liz’s favorite department: HR. They’re asked to sign “love contracts” to confirm things are consensual. I find it hilarious that HR gives them the paper before even asking if it’s true.  
Liz grabs a pen and signs. Diane follows her lead. They look at each other and smile politely at HR.
I am... not sure how to read this last scene! Is it a fuck-you to HR? A way of easing tensions? A way for Liz to get people to stop talking to her about removing Diane as name partner because no one will want to ask if they’re really involved? Something else? Help me understand!
Curious to see where things go next. I can see LCK2 coming back for another episode but it also wouldn’t surprise me to never see him again. Similarly, I could see some glances/discussion of Diane and Liz’s romantic relationship next week, or I could see it never being mentioned again, or I could see it being mentioned next season out of the blue.  
23 notes · View notes
Text
Out of Time (14)
First/Last
Read on AO3
Word Count: 7283
Previously: Dan duplicated and went for Jack, Maddie and Jazz. With some help from Dani, Valerie and Vlad, they defeated Dan... not before Jazz revealed that their parents know. Also... "You okay Mr. Lancer? How did you escape?"
Mr. Lancer started to answer, but a different voice beat him.
"Tuck."
"Danny!?"
Now: Meanwhile - Lancer's in trouble. Warning: Violence, ectoplasm, some graphic descriptions.
Please let me know what you think! Feel free to drop a reply or reblog whatever. Next chapter will be out on Wednesday (link will be in the replies!)
Meanwhile...
"And what, may I ask, gave you the absurd idea to come out here in the middle of a ghost invasion?" Mr. Lancer frowned as he glared at the two teenagers in front of him. Dash and Kwan looked at each other sheepishly, neither appearing to have an answer for the vice-principal. Lancer sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he jerked his arm backward toward the school. "No matter - get to the Nasty Burger. That's the nearest safe zone."
"Isn't the school closer?" Kwan asked, frowning slightly.
Lancer sighed again. "It would be closer, but Phantom's shield caused parts of it to cave in." he shooed them quickly. "Now go on, I don't want Tetslaff on my case tomorrow morning about two freshman on her starting line-up injured in a ghost attack."
Both boys nodded, before they jogged past the school. Lancer watched them go with a slight frown, bringing the walkie-talkie up to his mouth. "Two more coming your way Maria."
He heard the gym teacher scoff. "Only you could get away with calling me that William," she replied gruffly. "I have a reputation to uphold."
Lancer hummed non-committedly, hearing the line click as she signed off. He took a look around the school grounds, making a mental note to figure out who left their cars in the middle of the street on a Sunday during a ghost invasion. He looked up at the dark sky, frowning as he saw jagged pieces of Phantom's shield looking like it would fall.
"Mr. Lancer?"
The teacher turned at his name and his eyes widened in shock. Daniel Fenton was staggering over to him. He looked injured, tripping over his feet as wide blue eyes looked at him in alarm.
"War of the Worlds! Mr. Fenton, what are you doing out here?!" Lancer exclaimed, rushing over to the teen. They met in the middle, Danny falling into the teacher's arms with a small cry of pain. "What happened!?"
"I-" he started, looking around wildly. "The ghost - it attacked. My family - Mr. Lancer, my family!"
Lancer frowned worriedly; the boy was in hysterics. "Danny, I don't understand," he said slowly. "Deep breaths now. What about your family?" He tried to get the boy onto his feet but needed some support. "Why are you out here on your own?"
A look of confusion crossed the boy's face briefly, before it subsided. "He - that ghost," the boy started, seeming to calm down. "He went after all of us. I escaped but my family - they must still be there!"
Lancer looked the boy over - now that he was up close he saw no definite signs of injury, nor did he seem to show any illness that he claimed to have when he was last in school. Lancer frowned; the teacher had been subject to this boy's excuses for two years. Danny may lie, but when he was worried or concerned, you could hear it clearly in his voice. This? This seemed different. It was cold - distant.
"Where? Your parents have been fighting for hours around the city - I saw your mother not too long ago." He turned west, toward the park with a frown. "Are you sure they were captured?" The boy nodded earnestly. "Alright, let's get you to the Nasty Burger and then we can get to your family."
Danny frowned. "The Nasty Burger?"
Lancer let go of the teen, seeing that he was stable now, and headed toward the local hangout, beckoning the student to follow. "The nearest safe area?" he supplied, a questioning eyebrow raised in Danny's direction. Again, a brief look of confusion flashed across his face - Lancer could have sworn the boy's eyes were red - before it disappeared, the boy in question nodding in acceptance.
They walked in silence, Danny following the teacher closely as Lancer spared him another glance. Danny's eyes were darting around but he held a small smile that made the man's skin crawl.
Something was wrong.
"Hey Mr. Lancer?" Danny called out evenly. They locked eyes, Lancer giving a small nod inviting him to continue as he faced forward. "Whatever happened to the test I cheated on?"
Lancer bristled, surprised by the question. "I don't follow."
"You know? Last year?" the boy continued. There was something in his voice that Lancer couldn't place. "The C.A.T.?"
Mr. Lancer stopped, eyes widening and not turning around. He heard the boy do the same a short distance away. He swallowed slightly, licking his lips before he answered. "You didn't cheat on the C.A.T." he said calmly.
"Oh," Danny's voice was tart now, something more sinister underneath. "What happened to the answers then?"
The teacher's gasped slightly, getting unnerved at the line of questioning. "Danny… you gave those to me." He turned around to face his student, suspicion rising throughout his being. What did the Fentons say about overshadowing?
The teen's eyes were dark, a scowl plastered across his face at the answer. "You know," the boy said darkly, not hiding any malice in his voice. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." The teen's body started to glow, red eyes radiating heat around them. Mr. Lancer stumbled backward, trying to get away from whatever was possessing his student. "If you didn't bring my family to the Nasty Burger, telling them about that test… I would have never existed. I suppose I have to thank you."
What!? Lancer thought, mouth opening and closing as green energy started to swirl around the boy's body. "American Psycho!"
The ghost, laughed, mixing in with Danny's voice, unnerving the teacher. "Do you see it yet Mr. Lancer?" he asked sinisterly. "The resemblance? Come on - you're a smart man." The ghost moved toward him, making Lancer move backward to get away. "It's the end for you," the ghost said, smiling as his hand lit up with the same green energy that surrounded him. As it raised its hand in striking position, it gasped - a red vapour coming from its nose. It barely registered the sensation before a black and white blur slammed into the ghost with a yell. The blur stopped, hovering in front of teacher as the ghost was flown backward, skidding across the concrete.
Lancer let out a sigh of relief as Phantom turned around, looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay Mr. Lancer?" His voice was gruff and low, as if it took too much energy to keep speaking.
"Better thanks," he said, eyes still wide as he looked at the scowling ghost thrown back. Phantom's gaze followed, a grim expression washing across his face.
"Still alive, I see," the ghost snarled, staggering upright. It still unnerved the man that he was in his student's body.
Phantom's eyes narrowed. "You seriously need to chill out." Lancer watched as the teen hero's eyes turned blue, as did his hands as he sent a blast of ice toward Danny Fenton's body. As the boy froze, Phantom turned back to the teacher. "You need to get out of here," he said urgently, landing and bringing a hand to his chest. "Dan won't rest until he kills you."
Lancer thought he might throw up. Dan…. Like Daniel? "Me?!" he asked incredulously. The teacher shook his head. "No wait - what about Mr. Fenton?"
Phantom tensed, frowning at the teacher. "That isn't Danny Fenton," he said darkly. "And it never will be."
"Come again?" Mr. Lancer asked weakly, looking to the frozen figure a few feet away. His form seemed to be melting the ice.
"When was the last time you saw him?" Phantom pressed, facing the frozen ghost and holding his arm out protectively to stop the teacher from running over. "Think Mr. Lancer - when was the last time you saw Danny Fenton."
Lancer blinked at the question. "Friday," he answered, looking ahead. "And he was ill."
Phantom raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you really think the Fentons would let him out to fight ghosts if he was ill? He's still hold up at Fentonworks under the ghost shield." Dan broke through the ice with a roar, cutting off their conversation. Phantom's jaw set, eyes narrowing as Dan mirrored his stance. "Mr. Lancer - you need to get out of here. I don't know how long I can hold him back."
Two rings of white light appeared at the imposter's waist, transforming him in a larger, flame haired ghost. Lancer gasped, turning back to the younger ghost in front of him; the boy did not look well.
"Will you-" he started, but Phantom glanced backward, a side glare indicating that he over stayed his welcome. "Be careful." With one last warning, Lancer ran toward Casper High, the closest place away from the feuding ghosts.
:-=-:
As Mr. Lancer finally left, Danny allowed himself one moment of relief before glaring across at his older self. I need to get him out of the city, Danny thought frantically as Dan stalked over. The older Phantom was furious, running toward him with a wordless roar. Danny braced himself, going into a fighting stance before Dan reached him, blocking a punch to the face. Danny ducked, sweeping his injured leg with a wince, knocking Dan off his feet and punching the older ghost in the face. Dan recoiled, growling slightly as he launched at the teen again, tackling him to the ground.
Dan grinned as he pinned the younger Phantom to the ground, punching him repeatedly in the face. After the sixth punch, Danny managed to free an arm and with a grunt threw Dan off of him. He rolled over with a groan, coughing slightly as he attempted to stand, ignoring the small drops of ectoplasm coming from his face. He gasped suddenly, flipping back in the air as Dan came at him again with a flurry of punches. Danny dodged them all. Eventually, he found a small opening and punched Dan clean in the gut. It hit true, sending Dan flying backward with a grunt of pain.
Danny dropped to one knee, wincing heavily as he eyed his evil counterpart. "You won't win," Danny told him, breathing hard as he glared at the ghost in front of him.
Dan smirked as he got up, breathing equally as hard. "Really? I thought I already had?" he goaded. "Face it Danny, you're fighting a losing battle here. Either I waste you now or I wait until you run the clock out on yourself. You may have saved Lancer - for now - but how about our parents? Jazz?"
Danny's eyes lit up in anger as he stood up. Plan be damned. Danny breathed deeply and let out a desperate Ghostly Wail. It caught Dan by surprise, sending him back toward a shop with a crash. The wail didn't last long, Danny cutting it off with a strangled cry of pain as he dropped to his knees. One hand came to his burning throat, the other curled around his side as the rings of light attacked him again. That was stupid, Danny berated, gasping as green sparks of energy attacked his core.
He was exhausted, wondering how he would ever think of getting Dan to the forest now as he doubled over. "Come on," he grunted, trying to focus through the pain. "You're not done yet."
A crash from afar had his head whipping up. Dan flew upward, hands alight with ecto-energy racing toward him. The evil Phantom landed forcefully on the ground, creating a shockwave of energy outward from the impact. It hit Danny in the chest, sending him crashing into a light post. The boy shook his head, trying to clear it and stand up. Another round of sparks attacked him, keeping him grounded as Dan moved toward him.
"It's like I've said before," Dan said as he finally reached him. "I'm inevitable." He picked the boy up by the collar and flung him across the road, hitting one of the abandoned cars with a sickening crash. Danny groaned, moving slowly and glaring at Dan.
Suddenly, Dan stopped - a blank expression on his face. Danny barely had a chance to register it before something shifted. Dan contorted, looking more animalistic than he ever had. He bared his fangs, tongue hanging out and red encompassed his irises. He let out a roar - sonic waves coming out, making Danny fall again. The teen looked up with wide eyes, frozen in the face of sheer power coming from his evil self. The roar caused the car windows to explode outwards as they cracked, bits of rubble started to break apart from the ground; this was no wail. This was raw energy. Red eyes locked with green and with a vicious smile Dan teleported in front of Danny, grabbing the injured teen by the throat. The teen let out a cry of pain as he was choked for the third time that day.
"You told them?!" Dan hissed, his ghostly echo much deeper than it was normally.
Danny let out another cry of pain as he stared at his evil self with wide eyes. What?
"Our parents." Dan continued, eyes narrowing. "They know who we are… and they accepted it." He threw Danny roughly into another car, causing the car alarm to go off. Quickly, Dan flew over again, grabbing him by the arm and put a foot on the boy's back. He pushed Danny toward the ground, hearing the small gasps of pain the boy beneath made. With a dark grin he pulled Danny's arm upward and after a sickening pop, Danny's shoulder came out of his socket. He barely registered the younger's scream through his fury.
Dan snarled, letting go of his arm to grab a fist full of his hair. "You don't deserve their acceptance!" He growled. The evil Phantom hurled Danny in the air; hands alight with green energy and sent a strong ecto-blast toward him.
The blast hit him straight on and with a shout, Danny was sent flying backward. His back hit the school hard, bouncing off it slightly as he slid to the ground. He groaned, looking around blurredly in the direction of his future self. So much for getting him out of the city.
"Was the old man worth it Danny?" Dan jeered at him. Danny's hands curled into fists at the sound of the ghost's voice. "You're weakened and alone, my duplicates are taking care of the family and what are you going to do?" Danny's aura shone brighter in anger as his vision cleared. Dan was staring at him almost gleefully, white fangs shining eerily over the town ahead. He started to walk toward the downed teen, hands alighting in green ghost energy. "Your whole world is ending and you're powerless to stop it."
Danny's core throbbed angrily at those words, filling him almost to the edge with harsh electrical energy. His aura sparked to life again and with a quick change of colour in one of his eyes, Danny released a strong ecto-blast coated with electricity straight from his core. It hit its mark, making the ruthless Dan duplicate disappear with a wordless shout of surprise. Finally free of the onslaught, Danny whimpered slightly, sinking lower into the ground as raw green sparks racked his battered frame.
Why'd I think this was a good idea again? He thought bitterly, wincing as something burned at his side. He moved his good arm slowly, vaguely realizing that it was the same side he was hit earlier and swore as his white gloves were smeared with ectoplasm. Not good.
He fumbled slightly with his belt, ignoring the searing pain from his dislocated shoulder as he attempted to grab the Ecto-Enhancers. Come on! As he finally grabbed the pouch, his fingers twitched, sending the Ecto-Enhancers out of reach on the ground in front of him. Danny glared at the small pouch, trying to levitate it closer but pain erupted through his entire being, letting out strangled moan as his vision blackened.
"Help," he whispered desperately, pushing his injured vocal chords further. To his ears, it sounded like he was yelling. He closed his eyes, finding it too hard to keep them open. "Someone. Help."
His injuries and his exhaustion were finally starting to get to him. Vlad wasn't kidding - this sucks. He tried to move again before he was stopped by sharp pains shooting through his ribcage. Broken rib... great. The distance sounds around started to fade as started to lose consciousness.
Danny didn't know how much time had passed when heard hesitant footsteps. Here, he thought desperately. I'm over here. The footsteps got closer. A clang of metal then he heard a voice.
"Brave New World!"
:-=-:
Lancer thought wildly as he hid under his desk in his office. Ghost shield's broken; can't head for the Nasty Burger while those two are at it. More explosions shook the ground as the two ghosts clashed violently outside. Lancer swallowed thickly, glancing to the flashes of green that illuminated the office. Come on Phantom he thought desperately.
The glass shattered as another explosion echoed outside. The teacher shuddered, glancing at the exit as he heard voices yelling outside. If he got to the gym, at least there would be something he could use to defend himself. He crawled out from under his desk, dusting himself off before he gave the exit another glance.
Another crash, a car alarm and a scream reached his ears. The gym it is. The man took off. He made it down two hallways before the building shook in a terrible explosion. Lancer gasped, watching as some of the lockers broke away from the walls, falling into the hall and blocking the way he came. When the building stopped shaking, Lancer continued his journey. He made it to the equipment room, opened it with a shaking hand only to be blocked by equipment that had fallen over. Great. Lancer looked in the small opening of the doorway, reaching inside to grab the best weapon that he could find. His hand found something cold and metallic, which he withdrew very quickly. It was an old beaten golf club. Since when did we have a golf team!? Nodding slightly at the weapon, he glanced to Tetslaff's office. Frowning slightly, he opened the door, peering into it. Once he realized it was clear, he moved to enter it before stopping.
It was too quiet.
Lancer paused, listening for any sounds from the outside world. No explosions, no screams and no ground shaking. He breathed deeply, waiting for something… anything to give him a clue of what was happening. A few minutes passed before he let out a breath. It must be over. He turned back in the direction of his office, wincing as he assessed the damage. "Insurance better cover that," he muttered, turning back to the gym hallway. He was close to the parking lot exit - not the best escape route but better than a sitting duck.
Lancer made his way slowly, golf club at the ready, as he moved through the corridor. He stopped briefly as he passed a window, sucking in a breath at the debris littering the football field. Careful to avoid the broken glass, he continued, keeping a close ear for anything out of the ordinary. When he reached the door, he paused, frowning. The last time I was outside, Phantom and that other ghost were about to…what do the kids call it? Throw Out? Do I really want to go out there? The teacher listened again, waiting at the door for some sort of sign that it was safe. Did they move elsewhere? No explosions, no signs of any fight nearby. He waited a few more minutes before taking a deep breath and opened the door.
The whole block was destroyed; cars with dents, craters on the ground, a few fires here and there. Lancer's jaw dropped, staring at the utter destruction. Green eyes looked at a particular deep crater with smears of green across the pavement. He felt his body move before he was aware, carefully following the green substance through the parking lot until he saw something crumpled on what was left of the wall of the school.
Rather - someone.
Lancer had never seen Danny Phantom so still; the teen's body was littered in injuries. He had his eyes closed, breathing shallowly while he gripped his side. The green ectoplasm oozed out of his body, looking more and more like blood with every second. Lancer's grip on the golf club loosened, letting it fall with a clang onto the ground. Phantom flinched slightly, curling his fist.
"Brave New World!" the teacher exclaimed, eyes widening at the spectre in front of him. Lancer moved toward the boy, kicking a small black pouch with a familiar logo on its front. "What-" Lancer started, picking it up and glancing back toward Phantom. The man jumped, gasping as Phantom's luminous green eyes looked at him desperately. "Phantom - are you... is that…" Phantom's eyes moved toward the pouch, back toward the teacher and back down to the pouch. Lancer frowned, his gaze following Phantom's to the item in his hand. "You need this?" Lancer asked. The ghost opened his mouth to respond, only voicing a strangled gasp and a wince in pain. Phantom nodded slowly, looking at the teacher with a silent plea.
Lancer un-zipped the pouch as he moved to Phantom's side. The young ghost's eyes followed him, blinking heavily as if he would fall unconscious at any point. Lancer's eyes widened, looking at the glowing green syringes and then back to the teen. "Stay with me," Lancer said gently, ignoring his trembling hands and offered the syringes to Phantom. The ghost moved, attempting to take one before he closed his eyes with a grimace in pain. He swallowed, breathing heavily before he opened an eye and looked at Lancer. Lancer looked at the syringes, then back up to Phantom as he realized what the ghost was trying to ask him. "You want me to give this to you?" Lancer asked slowly. Phantom's eye closed, pushing his head back toward the wall of the school before he nodded. Lancer's frown deepened, taking one of the syringes out of the pouch. His hands were shaking still as he moved it towards the boy's arm. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, noting that his voice too was shaking. Phantom's eyes opened again, green meeting green as they tried to communicate. Finally, Lancer nodded, steadying his hand as he injected the contents of the mysterious glowing substance into the ghost.
Phantom's eyes closed, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as the syringe became empty. "Phantom?" Lancer asked softly. He didn't respond. A small sense of panic and worry shot through the teacher. "Phantom, are you alright?" Lancer moved a hand to the ghost's face, touching it gently as he tried to get Phantom to wake up. Please don't tell me I destroyed our town hero. "Phantom, can you open your eyes? You need to stay awake. You're losing too much… blood? Is that your blood?"
Phantom let out a short wheezy laugh which turned into a small fit of coughs. Once they subsided, he nodded, finally opening his eyes and locked onto the teacher. Lancer sighed in relief, falling back to lean on the school wall. "You have to stay awake - my first aid training only covers humans you know." Phantom sent him a quizzical look. "What? I'm a teacher in the most haunted city in America. You think I wouldn't know first aid?"
Phantom gave him a small smile. "'kay," he rasped, wincing.
Lancer frowned, noticing the dark bruises around the ghost's neck; the evil Phantom might have crushed the boy's vocal chords. He then looked to Phantom's side where his blood seemed to have slowed. Odd. "What did I do to you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep Phantom conscious.
Phantom made a face, attempting to speak but a small groan came out instead. He closed his eyes tiredly, breathing through the pain. "Heal," he managed after a while, his voice still raspy and low.
At least I know I won't kill him. "Okay," Lancer said, swallowing slightly. Green eyes looked over the injured hero, finding the dislocated shoulder. He frowned. Phantom may not be able to stay awake if I reset it. "Phantom?" The boy hummed in response, opening his eyes slowly. "Your shoulder is dislocated, I can fix it but you need to stay awake. Can you talk to me as I'm doing it?"
Phantom groaned. "Hurts," he ground out, grimacing as green sparks appeared at his waist. Lancer's eyes widened as they coursed through the boy for a few minutes before disappearing. Phantom's eyes closed, groaning again as he leaned heavily against the wall of the school. "Story," Phantom whispered weakly, eyes scrunched tight.
"Story?" Lancer repeated, furrowing his brow. "You want me to tell you a story?"
"Distract-" Phantom cut himself off with a gasp as more sparks moved through him.
Lancer swallowed as Phantom's body tensed through the pain. Distraction… he wants me to distract him. "Okay, but you need to pay attention," he said gently. "I've had enough students fall asleep in class - don't want to add you to the list."
Phantom smiled, a hint of amusement on his face. "Teacher…..Boring," he wheezed.
Lancer's eyebrows rose. "Are you calling me boring Phantom?" he asked with a smile. The smile faded as Phantom's jaw clenched and more sparks moved through him. "Okay, okay - I'll make it an interesting one," Lancer rushed. "You just stay with me alright?"
Phantom nodded, relaxing slightly. Lancer frowned, moving to Phantom's left to get closer to his arm. "Did you know I have a playbook to guilt students into studying?" Phantom's eyebrows rose, but didn't open his eyes nor respond. "It's true. In my years of teaching, I had to get creative. Besides, my students - thankfully - don't want to learn much about my social life and figured I could mess with them. Interesting enough for you?"
Phantom opened his eyes and looked at the teacher, inviting him to continue.
"I'll take that as a yes," Lancer said, gingerly taking Phantom's arm in one hand and placing the other on his shoulder. He had to time this right. "So my ultimate play works like a charm. See, I have a photo of my sister on my desk and lead the wayward students to believe I don't have enough time to see her since I spend most of the time tutoring students." Lancer had Phantom's attention now, the boy's eyes swimming with confusion. "Here's the thing Phantom," Lancer continued, prepping himself to move the shoulder back into place. "I don't have a sister." Phantom's eyebrows rose incredulously. Here goes. "That photo? It's of me on Drag night."
"Wha-OW" Phantom yelped hoarsely. Lancer moved quickly, putting the shoulder back in place. The teacher grinned sheepishly, watching Phantom's eyes close tightly as the pain moved through him, hissing through his teeth.
"Derek thinks it's hilarious that no one has figured it out," Lancer said quickly, attempting to have Phantom focus back on the story rather than his pain. "He's even offered to dress up as Edwina Lancer to sell it one of these days as a play on my middle name. I think perhaps Ms. Fenton figured it out but she's never said anything nor told her brother, which worked in my favour last year."
Phantom looked at the teacher with wide eyes, gasping as he attempted to process both the pain and the story. "Derek?" he asked with another grimace.
Lancer smiled softly. "My partner; he travels a lot for work so we only ever see each other on the weekends."
Phantom was quiet for a few minutes, breathing deeply through the pain. "Why this story?" Phantom asked finally, his voice sounding less wheezy as he moved to sit up straighter. Lancer helped steady him when he faltered.
Lancer shrugged. "I get to go home to him after all this is over, thanks to you." Phantom gave him a small smile. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Phantom throwing his head back against the wall of the school as he healed. It was Lancer who broke it. "Can I ask you a question?" Phantom turned to Lancer, nodding. "What was that ghost? He clearly did a number on you."
Phantom's smile disappeared, a dark haunted look drifting across his face. "Someone who shouldn't exist," he said quietly.
Lancer frowned at the response. "He said I created him," Lancer continued. "He wanted me dead."
Phantom shook his head. "You didn't," the teen assured, swallowing slightly. His voice was stronger now. "He's… a lot to explain." Phantom let out a long sigh. "Do you remember the C.A.T. last year?"
Lancer nodded, remembering the evil Phantom saying the same words.
"There was a timeline that caused some stuff to happen - really bad stuff," Phantom continued, shuddering slightly. "That combined with some really stupid choices on my part caused his existence. I defeated him once with some help, but he escaped."
"Sounds like a lot of time travel and alternate reality stuff," Lancer replied with a small smile.
"Kind of, yeah" Phantom said sheepishly. He swallowed again, pushing his head back against the wall and breathed deeply.
"Wait…" Lancer said, realizing something. "Is that why Danny Fenton turned in those answers? Because you asked him to?"
Phantom chuckled darkly. "Nah. He found out what would happen on his own; realized it was too high a cost."
Lancer frowned at the ghost's tone. Danny had been so relieved when he found out he could do the make-up test, showed up for detention on time and accepted it all in stride. In fact, he seemed like he expected more punishment than what was given. It took him months to realize that it wasn't so big of a deal once he came clean. "What cost was that?"
Phantom shuddered. "You really don't want to know," he said cryptically.
Lancer tried to reply, but was interrupted by a faint explosion in the distance. Phantom's head moved toward the sound, face hardening. The teacher frowned as he saw Phantom's eyes clouding in thought and concern. "You're not healed completely, are you?"
"No." Phantom's curt reply came with a frown. They sat in silence again, a few more explosions coming drifting to their ears before a light sparked in his eyes. "Do you have your cell phone?" Lancer frowned, taking out the older flip phone and showed it to the ghost. "I have an idea - can you call FentonWorks?
"FentonWorks?" Lancer repeated.
Phantom nodded, shifting slightly with a wince. "Yeah - they're supposed to have the ghost shield up soon."
Lancer furrowed his brow, but dialled the familiar number nonetheless. Phantom gave him a stiff nod before he leaned back against the brick with closed eyes. It rang twice before an automated message erupted through the speakerphone.
"You've reached FentonWorks!" Jack Fenton's voice boomed. "If this is a ghost related emergency, please stay on the line - or holler! We're probably there already. For the fudge watch, please press 1, if you're the V-man - HI VLADDIE! - press 2, if you're trying to reach my Jazzy-pants for a date hang up -"
"Dial 4304," Phantom told him. "Jack goes on a while, and that extension goes to the lab."
Lancer gave him a look of bemusement and did what he was told. It rang twice before someone picked up. "Hello?" he said.
Various voices filled the other line, too far and mumbled in the background for the teacher to make out. Lancer frowned, looking at Phantom for some guidance. Phantom's brow was furrowed in thought, perhaps trying to figure out the voices, but said nothing. Eventually, a voice got closer.
"What do you mean you don't know who's on the phone?" a young man's voice asked. Lancer didn't hear the reply. "Did you answer it?" again, the reply was too quiet to hear. "Clockwork, you're the Master of - for the love of all things technology Frostbite don't touch that!" Phantom grinned- actually grinned - as the voice continued to berate Frostbite for touching something called a 'Ghost Gabber'.
"What exactly is going on?" Lancer asked meekly. Phantom shrugged in response, still smiling.
"Check the infirmary for more gauze - Mrs. F has them stacked," the young man's voice continued, getting louder as he got to the phone. Lancer frowned, finally recognizing that he knew this voice. "You've reached FentonWorks Base Operations."
"Sound and the Fury - Mr. Foley?!" Lancer exclaimed. "What are you doing down there?"
"Mr. Lancer?" Tucker asked in disbelief. "What - you know what, never mind. The Fentons have me manning coms while they're out 'kicking ghost butt.' What's wrong - there's kind of a lot going on at the moment."
Lancer raised an eyebrow at the teen's tone. "More than whatever evil ghost we're facing demolishing the entire town? Or rather the school?"
"What!?" Tucker exclaimed. "Damn, he must have duplicated again without us knowing. You okay Mr. Lancer? How did you escape?"
Lancer went to reply, but Phantom chose to intervene. "Tuck," he said.
Tucker was quiet for a few moments before he spoke in a soft, hopeful whisper. "Danny!?"
Phantom smiled. "It's me." Lancer looked between the phone and the ghost in slight confusion. There was something more there that he wasn't privy to. Were these two friends!?
"Dude - where the hell have you been!?" Tucker asked incredulously, the relief evident in his voice. Definitely friends. "Are you okay?" the boy cut himself off. "No - wait Danny! Sam -"
"Is fine," Phantom told him firmly. "She's with Ethelwulf, safe and away from battle."
Tucker scoffed. "You do realize that Ethelwulf is currently holding off Dan's forces from entering parts of the city right? If she's with him, you know she's fighting too."
Phantom sighed, clearly amused. "So much for plan A then," he replied.
Sam… wait. "You're not talking about Sam Manson!?" Lancer exclaimed. His outburst went ignored.
"Danny, what happened," Tucker pressed. "You've been gone for - holy f - twelve hours. Please don't tell me you've been fighting all this time." Phantom was silent and Lancer had a sinking suspicion that was exactly what had happened. Tucker seemed to agree with the teacher. "Dude. Are you okay?"
Phantom's face twisted in concentration as he tried to answer the boy's question. "I - honestly I don't know."
Tucker was silent on the line for a minute before he responded. "Where are you?"
Phantom seemed to be taken aback by the question. "Tuck -" he started.
"Don't you dare lie to me right now," Tucker said angrily. "Danny - where are you." When Phantom didn't respond, the boy changed tactics. "Mr. Lancer - where are you two?"
Phantom gave him a pleading look, making the teacher frown but he answered nonetheless. "Casper's north parking lot Mr. Foley. Near the entrance."
"Tucker - you can't come out here," Phantom pleaded. "You're the only one who can -"
"Figure out the shield, I know," Tucker finished. There were some keys clicking in the background. "But I'm not leaving you out there."
Phantom frowned. "We may not have a choice," he said cryptically as blue and green sparks appeared again. Lancer was impressed at how well the boy weathered them now. "How close are you with the shield?"
Tucker sighed. "I'd say about 90% positive that I accounted for all the variables, but I'm not using it until we know that you aren't affected. We can hold Dan off until that point."
Phantom grunted in acknowledgement but did not reply right away. Lancer frowned at the quiet ghost, watching him in anticipation. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Phantom broke the silence. "You said Dan duplicated," he said quietly. "How're - "
"They're okay," Tucker assured him. "Well, your - Mr. and Mrs. Fenton are. I haven't heard from Jazz but I think Mrs. F went after her. Mr. Fenton went to find you."
Phantom nodded, eyes glancing above toward the last remnants of the green shield. "90%?" he asked. Lancer noted with unease how the boy seemed to glow slightly in anticipation, how he tested the movements of his fists, wincing only slightly if he found something a little sore.
"Yeah," Tucker confirmed. A beat of silence before Tucker gasped. "No. No way."
"Tucker," Phantom said tiredly. "90% is a lot. It's more than we had - and we need that shield."
"No," Tucker repeated quickly. "Don't ask me to do this."
"What are you talking about?" Lancer asked, confused.
Tucker sighed. "Danny, if I put up that shield and we're wrong, I'm going trap you out there. I can't - hell, you look awful."
Both Phantom and Lancer bristled, the former's eyes darting around before finding the surveillance camera near the school entrance. The boy let out a soft "oh", then sighed. Lancer's eyes followed Phantom's as he pieced everything together.
The teacher frowned disapprovingly. "Mr. Foley," he started evenly. "You didn't just hack into the school cameras, right?"
"Technically speaking - no," Tucker replied, a hint of guilt coming through his voice. "The mayor gave the Fentons access to all the cameras in the city."
"And how, exactly, did you know which camera it was?" Lancer asked.
"… I plead the fifth."
Lancer sighed. "Of course you do."
Phantom let out a fast stream of air through his nose before he stared straight into the camera in question. "Tucker, you need to put up the Ghost Shield; if you do, I can take mine down. It'll send Dan and his forces out of the city."
"With you out there like a lamb to slaughter?" Tucker countered. Lancer made a small noise of approval at the simile.
"Look - if I'm stuck out there, I'll have Ethelwulf and Sam out there with me." Phantom smiled ruefully. "Besides, there's something going on with my core. Even if we were at 100% there'd be a chance this wouldn't work."
"So you're saying regardless of whatever we do, I need to let you go out there injured? Fat chance."
"Tucker -"
"No Danny, you listen!" Tucker shot back angrily. "You're my best friend! Don't ask me to do this - it's literally life and death here."
"Don't you mean death and death?" Phantom joked.
"I'm not making this call," Tucker stated firmly, ignoring the small attempt deflection. "You asked me to put up that shield as part of a plan - that plan did not include you sacrificing yourself to save us."
"And what about the town?" Phantom shot back. Phantom's aura flared as he argued with the camera. "What about all the ghosts that Dan pushed out of the Ghost Zone? That shield can protect everyone in Amity and more importantly - I trust you Tucker. You always have my back."
Lancer sat in the silence that followed with his thoughts racing at what he heard. Mr. Foley saying that Phantom was his best friend confirmed Ms. Manson's involvement - meaning that Mr. Fenton must also be involved.
With ghosts. His students were involved with ghosts.
What was even more peculiar was Mr. Foley's hesitancy in his skills. Lancer knew he was a strong student - even stronger when technology was involved - but the oozing self confidence that normally accompanied his skills was nowhere to be seen. It must be dire if he's this unsure.
Phantom looked away from the camera and to the phone still in Lancer's hand. His eyes held a sad resolve as he spoke. "You told me you'd see my self-sacrificing ass from a mile away - I promise you that's not what this is. I'll be back Tucker. We need to get Dan out of the city, then I'll meet up with Ethelwulf and Sam in the forest. Ethelwulf will teleport us back. Tucker - if we get this shield up, I can actually recover."
Tucker sighed. Lancer assumed the young hero was getting through to his student. "What did Sam say?" When Phantom didn't answer, Tucker tried again. "Danny - you and I both know that Sam would not go along with that plan willingly. Especially if you looked half as bad as you do now. So what did you have to say to get her to agree to this plan?"
Lancer watched in slight amusement as Phantom looked flustered and slightly embarrassed by the question. It was almost as if … wait - could it be?
"I told her I'd come back," Phantom replied simply. His eyes avoided the camera, phone and teacher.
"That's it?" Tucker pressed. Lancer suddenly noticed the teasing shift in tone.
"Well - it was more how I said it rather than what I said."
Tucker suddenly laughed, making Phantom scowl. "Dude. You told her, didn't you?" he asked slyly.
Lancer watched Phantom sputter embarrassingly, making a lot of denial noises and looking very uncomfortable. Oh Mr. Fenton - you missed your chance.
Another loud explosion brought them back to reality. Phantom swallowed, any form of embarrassment gone as he tried to reason with the teen. "I get why you don't want to make the call Tuck," Phantom started. "I do - so let's do this together. Put up the shield and I'll be back. Promise."
There was a long silence before they heard Tucker exhaled loudly. "Okay," he replied softly. "I trust you."
Phantom smiled softly. "You're my best friend too, you know."
"I know. Hey Danny -" Tucker stopped, his voice cracking.
"Me too," Phantom said gently. He glanced back at the camera and nodded. "I'll be back."
"Good," Tucker told him, any emotion in his voice was replaced with a happier, joking tone. "Because if you miss my birthday next week cause you died, I'm running up your tab at the Nasty Burger."
Lancer watched as a genuine smile came across Phantom's face at the abrupt shift in tone. "The usual?" he asked.
"With extra everything," Tucker confirmed. More key clicks. "I'll get the shield up in 5 minutes. Be careful."
With a soft click, the line disconnected. Phantom sighed and looked at the teacher. "Thanks Mr. Lancer," he said, pushing himself upward. Lancer scrambled upward to help, but the teen simply jumped in the air and hovered in place. "Thanks to you, we can get that shield up and protect the town. And for you know… not letting me bleed out all over the parking lot."
Lancer frowned, looking the boy over. "Why do I feel that Mr. Foley was right? That going back into a fight like this would do you more harm than good?"
Phantom smiled, shrugging with one shoulder. "Probably because he is," he replied simply. "Besides, I'm not fighting alone. Between the Fentons, the Shield and my allies, we got a pretty good shot of getting him out of Amity Park. This will work."
Lancer nodded. "I can't stop you then?" he asked. Phantom shook his head. "Then perhaps a reminder, Danny Phantom, that Amity Park is with you."
With a determined nod and a small smile, Phantom disappeared. Lancer sighed heavily, looking down at the spot Phantom occupied just a moment ago. He knelt down, picking up the discarded pouch with one syringe left in it. Pocketing it with a frown, he then took out the Walkie Talkie. "Tetslaff - it's me. I'm on my way over. And do I have a story for you."
15 notes · View notes
neeterloveschenford · 3 years
Text
RNM 3x07
Hello my fellow lovers of all things alien! Another episode down and six more to go. First I’d like to start by congratulating Heather Hemmens! What an accomplishment! I hope you can continue to pursue your passion for directing. Also I would like to once again put forth my deepest desire for someone to rescue Lucky out into the universe. He’s a good boi! He deserves better!! And on that note, let’s dive into this episode.
I know I can get flip floppy when it comes to Maria, but just a few days ago she was jumping off rooftops and shooting up adrenaline to try jump start her powers. Now she’s strong enough to put Jones in a cage? Maybe if there had been a time jump, but we’re still on day 7. I don’t buy it. I don’t think they know what to do with her even after 3 seasons. I’m not expecting any kind of comeuppance for last season. I think they are completely correct in sweeping that all under the rug. It’s not the show for something like that. If this were Dawson’s Creek or One Tree Hill, sure. But I want to see sci-fi and aliens more than friendship and relationship drama. So I’m not sure where they think they are going to end up with her, but so far it’s been hit or miss for me.
Next we have Liz being all sciencey. I love seeing her, Michael and Isobel working together. But I gotta say, her plan was kinda rubbish. I mean, Jones has been one step ahead of everyone and Liz is gonna Mata Hari him? Don’t think so
Dear Deputy Pete, why are all men so dumb. Every moron on this show hates Max but wants to get into Isobel’s pants. I get it, but it’s so cliche.
Hello Father Dallas! Betcha Rosa’s not gonna miss mass this week! I like him. He quoted Biggie. I already like his relationship with Rosa ten times more than her relationship with Wyatt. I liked his advice too. He works on the Res. Does he know Greg? I wanna know. And he was in a bts picture with Vlamis and Trevino a few days ago. Guess we’ll be seeing more of him.
Alex keeps talking about Afghanistan this season. The last two seasons he only talked about Iraq. I know he served both places, but shouldn’t his line have been something along the lines of he survived the deserts of Afghanistan and Iraq instead of just one of them? Maybe I’m just being nitpicky.
Why is Kyle just being kept in a barn? Is there someone with medical knowledge there taking care of him? Did Eduardo just take him there and hook him up to that equipment and leave him there? What the heck is going on? That barn can’t be that sanitary. And where was Maria in that flashback? Did he just leave her there? Did her shooting Kyle up with adrenaline make things worse for Kyle? Does Eduardo have medical training? Does Kyle know he has an uncle? Who were the guys that were breaking into Max’s house. So many questions. So few answers.
Poor Lucky! Can we find him a new home please?!? HE’S A GOOD BOI!!
I like Isobel having female friends. She has grown so much since last season. But this plan is sooooo bad! Seriously. How did they think this would work? I know they were getting desperate, but seriously!
I’m gonna need Michael and Rosa to have a scene together every episode from here on out! I love their dynamic. And Michael is such a great teacher. Patient when she needed it. Challenging her when she needed it. And the sass coming from Rosa! Also, how stinking cute is it that Michael played baseball! I can just imagine my sweet little Guerin making a home run and being all smug about it. And I’d just like to point out that Heads Up 7Up was my favorite game when I was a kid. I would be devastated every single time we played at school and my thumb didn’t get put down. Memories.
Seriously Liz. How could you not realize Jones was onto you. When has Max ever referred to Maria as DeLuca? She has always been Maria to him. Wait. Hold up. Michael was the only one who ever refers to her as DeLuca. Was this a clue to the big reveal later on? We may never know.
I really love Greg, but he’s really kind of bland these days. I really hope when Maria gets out of that coma that he starts to challenge her. She needs Greg the former drag racer. Not Greg the super sweet boytoy. Michael let her run their relationship last season and look how that turned out.
Rosa’s new power is cool. That’s all I have to say on the matter.
So if Trevor went crazy and committed suicide while working on the Lockhart machine, how did Travis become so nuts? Did Alex referring to Trevor as the crazy boot maker who chased them through a corn field a continuity error? (I mean yeah, it’s gotta be.) Who’s in charge of checking things like this? Can I apply for this job? I think I might do a better job.
Obi-wan Junkyardy could be the best line this show has ever come up with. Especially now that Michael is, in fact, a jedi.
I think Liz has more chemistry with Jones than with Max. Nathan is an amazing actor. I had forgotten, since Max was so bland. But Jones reminds me of how much I loved him on General Hospital. Jones is just sexy. There’s no ifs ands or buts about it. And Liz knows she’s attracted to him. It’s impossible not to be. Cause he’s HOT! And as much as I wanted to bash my head against the table with how dumb her plan was, I loved watching the cat and mouse between them. And then she punched him. It was glorious!
I love that Eduardo knows about Malex. It was a nice parallel that last week we got the Michael and Sanders conversation, and then this week we got the Alex version. Even when they don’t have scenes together, they are still ever present in each other’s lives. I think Alex might not have even realized that the real reason he joined Deep Sky was Michael. And I don’t think that the Lockhart machine is going to drive him crazy like it did everyone else. Maybe Nora built it to be accessed by whoever Michael “bonds” with. He’ll figure it out and I’m very certain that it will hold the key to defeating Jones.
I would just like to point out that most of my theories get debunked pretty quickly. But I was 100% correct about Jones being the Dictator and Michael’s father. I am pretty darn proud of myself. I still think Louise might be Jones’ sister. Which would make Michael and Isobel cousins. That would be cool.
Also I love the fact that Rosa wound up saving the day. Cause she’s a badass.
Which brings us back to Maria and her mindscape. Jones is going to use her to access Patricia’s memories. But memories of what? The Lockhart machine? Whatever she was a part of at Caulfield? That part does interest me. But I do hope that Maria beats Jones by the skin of her teeth. Or maybe because of a fluke. If she kicks his ass or something I will be disappointed.
So lastly, I would just like to point out that today I read a review of this episode on another website and the reviewer referenced Gargamel. 👀👀 I don’t know how to feel about that.
Anyway, all in all it wasn’t a bad episode. But it’s not my fave. And I’m not even going to get into nobody worrying about Kyle. But next week I am expecting much bigger and much better things. Cause, you know, Malex and such. So until next time my lovelies!!
8 notes · View notes
daveeddiggsit · 4 years
Text
Game Time
WIDEOUT MASTERLIST
Series: WIDEOUT
Note: Well, it’s been two years since I’ve updated this series and I missed it so much. This one was a lot of fun to write. Can you tell I thirsted hard for Diggs in a football uniform? Let me know what you all think!! And let me know if you wanna be tagged in future installments! :)
Word Count: 4.6k
Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Reader
Warnings: nothing really. kissing, some language? football lingo
Summary: When you’re assigned to tutor Thomas Jefferson in chemistry, you find out that there’s more to him than just football. After you start dating, you attend your first football game to see him play for the first time.
Tagging: @coololdsoulpoetlove​​ @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs​​ @merrahonthawall​ @katierpblogg​ @thespianbooks​ @a-hopeless-fan​ @uniquelystarchildthedragon​ @wcreech​ @sabbrriiinnaa​ @imperial-martian​ @harpersmariano​ @icanneverbesatisfied​ @underthewillowtreerycb​ 
Tumblr media
The hallway buzzes with sound and activity as you and Maria get your books out of your lockers.
As you close your locker and slip your bag on your shoulder, you can’t help but smile when you think of the events that happened this past weekend. Images of Thomas’ bright grin and his soft gaze right before and after your first kiss flash through your brain as you get lost in your thoughts.
“Y/N, are you even listening?” Maria’s voice brings you back to reality.
Your eyes snap over to her and you give her a guilty simper. “No, sorry. What were you saying? I’m listening now.”
“I was asking if you’re ready for the chem test tomorrow…” Your best friend trails off, narrowing her eyes at you, obviously suspicious of something.
“Oh uh, yeah.” You chuckle a bit nervously. “I’m always ready, M. Are you?”
“Mhm,” she starts before continuing without taking a breath, “Are you okay? I feel like there’s something up with you. You’re like… radiating this weird energy. You haven’t stopped smiling all morning. Not that it’s a bad thing, but...”
Your eyebrows scrunch together as you try to play dumb. “What do you mean? I’m not smiling now… What weird energy? I’m fine.” You say before your eyes flicker over Maria’s shoulder to see Thomas coming in your direction. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sight of him and against your will, that smile Maria mentioned finds its home on your face once more.
“See? There it is again.” Your best friend accuses, pointing a finger at you. Your gaze shifts back to her for a second and you shake your head, pursing your lips to force the smile that won’t go away. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Um... “ You trail off before your eyes flicker over her shoulder again. Thomas catches your gaze and winks as he makes his way over.
“What are you looking at?” Maria asks before she turns around to see your boyfriend approach you two. And suddenly, she thinks she understands.
“Well, would you look at that?” She turns back to you with a smirk, her tone teasing. “It’s your beau.”
Yeah, no kidding. She doesn’t know, yet, does she?
Thomas is grinning when he reaches you and his smile is contagious. He swoops down to press his lips to your cheek sweetly before draping his arm across your shoulders.
“Reynolds.” Thomas greets Maria with a nod, smirking at her wide-eyed expression. Her realization is evident on her face as she puts one and one together.
“Jefferson.” Maria replies, sobering up before she narrows her eyes at him. Oh, she fully understands what’s going on now. 
Thomas looks away from Maria to look down at you.
“Mornin’, sweetheart.”
You look up at him, your grin unfaltering. “Hi, T.”
“Meet me at the field after school? I wanna show you something.” Thomas says, his gaze soft and smile warm.
You nod, causing his smile to widen. 
“Okay, cool.” Your boyfriend leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head before he lets you go and takes a step back. “Alright, ladies, as much as I wanna stay, I have to go and round up the boys. Make sure they get to class on time and blah blah blah. Team captain duties. I’ll see y’all in class.”
Maria rolls her eyes before deadpanning. “Of course you have to do ‘team captain duties.’”
Thomas just shrugs. Before he can leave, you pull something out of your backpack and call out to him.
“Oh, hey, T! Wait, before you go.” He turns to you, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips, giving you his undivided attention. “Here’s your hoodie back. Thanks for letting me borrow it on Saturday.”
The football player sends you a genuine smile. “Keep it. I want you to wear it for the game on Friday. It’ll be cold out and I want you to have some sort of school pride.”
Your jaw drops at his teasing jab. “I have school spirit!”
“Maybe I just want you wearing my hoodie, then.” He smirks before he quickly continues. “Alright, I’ll see y’all.” He waves, before he nods at the hoodie in your arms and gives you a pointed look. “That’s my favorite hoodie. I trust you with it. Keep it safe.”
You laugh and give him a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Maria watches your encounter with her arms crossed. So when Thomas finally leaves and you turn back to her after putting the hoodie back in your bag, she gives you a look that says, “What the fuck, Y/N?”
A sheepish grin shows up on your face. “Yes?”
“You, uh… wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?”
A teacher passes by at that exact moment, reprimanding Maria on his way past. “Language, young lady.”
You both ignore him.
“Uh… yeah.” You start, walking towards class and Maria falls into step with you. “So, Thomas and I are dating now… as you probably found out.”
“You didn’t think it’d be important to disclose this information?”
“I’m sorry, M. I’ve just been stuck in my own head since it happened on Saturday and—”
“I knew it! I knew y’all weren’t just gonna study!” She exclaims, causing some students to turn their heads. She drops down to a reasonable tone before she continues. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
Her reaction causes you to laugh. “Ugh, you sound like my brother.”
“I’m basically your sister. Now, tell me everything. All the details!”
“I mean… after his practice we just went back to his house and Thomas convinced me to watch this show he’s in love with because apparently I remind him of one of the characters.”
“What show?”
“Futurama.”
“Gross.”
“Right? That’s what I thought!” You laugh before you continue. “Anyway, so I told him I’d watch one episode after he showered—”
“Ooh, spicy—”
“Not that kind of story, Maria.” You deadpan and she simpers. “So we watched the episode, and I told him it was kinda dumb and one thing led to another and next thing you know we’re…” You lower your voice, “Making out on his couch. Then he asked me, well more like told me, to be his girlfriend. I agreed. Here we are.”
“Making out? That sounds pretty spicy to me, Y/N.” She wriggles her eyebrows at you. 
“Oh my God, you’re terrible. And can you not use that word?” You groan, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.
“No, but seriously, Y/N.” Maria says genuinely. “That’s actually really cute. I’m really happy for you guys.”
You smile at her before pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, M. Means a lot.”
She returns the hug for a few seconds before she pulls back to point a finger at you. “He breaks your heart, though, and he’s a dead man.”
“Oh, I know.” You laugh outwardly as you two head into your first class of the day. 
⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆
“Why’d you want me to meet you here?” You ask Thomas. You enter the gated entrance to the track and football field, one of your hands intertwined with his.
“You’ll see.” He says, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Thomas,” you groan, impatience evident in your tone. “Don’t you have practice today? You’re not gonna make me sit through another one, are you?”
Thomas laughs heartily and shakes his head. “Nah. Practice isn’t until 7 today, so we’re fine. And I thought you enjoyed the view when you watched me practice on Saturday.”
You roll your eyes and look up at him. “I did…” You trail off and his eyebrows raise slightly at your confession (though it isn’t much of a confession anymore since you two are together now). “But that doesn’t mean that I wanna come spend my free time watching a bunch of dudes run around with a ball and tackle each other while getting yelled at by Coach Washington.”
He grins at that, looking down at his shoes for a second. “Understandable. I wouldn’t wanna listen to Coach’s yellin’ in my free time either.”
You two take your first steps on the turf of the football field and Thomas leads you towards the yellow field goal post.
“Anyway, why’d you bring me to the field, T? You said you wanted to show me something?” You ask, thoroughly confused.
“Yeah, I got something in mind.” He says softly, his gaze making you feel warm. “Remember how you said that we’ve never been on an official date before? On Saturday?”
You nod in response.
“Well, this is me changing that.”
“Aw, really?” Your heart swells and he nods.
“Mhm. But first, I gotta make sure of something.”
You raise an eyebrow and Thomas’ smile turns smug.
“Alright, darlin’, what,” he begins before letting go of your hand to gesture to the area around you two, “is this area called?”
You look around briefly before you tilt your head to look at him. Narrowing your eyes, you cross your arms and deadpan. “Seriously?”
“Ahh, you thought I forgot about our little football tutoring sessions, didn’t you?” His grin is playful as he watches you with an amused gaze. “Consider this a pop quiz. You need to be prepared before Friday.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a ‘real date,’ Thomas, not another tutoring session.” The look you give him is serious, but your tone is teasing. “Also, you know we have an actual test tomorrow for Chem, right? We should be studying for that.”
“Oh, I have been, sweetheart, trust me. I studied for a few hours yesterday.”
You cock your head to the right, grinning at him, unconvinced. “Did you, really?”
“You don’t believe me?” Thomas gasps dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. “Y/N, that wounds me.”
You chuckle and shake your head at him, thinking back to when you saw the open chemistry textbook on his desk. He’s definitely telling the truth.
“I believe you, Jefferson. Just a little surprised since it’s always a drag to get you to study for that class.”
“Hey, now, I’ve gotten better over time.” He sends you a pointed look.
“Yeah, that explains why we got nothing done on Saturday.”
“You were just as distracted as I was! Don’t gimme that. I’m not the only one at fault here, missy.” He takes a step closer and towers over you, but your gaze is challenging as you look up at him.
“I mean… you’re the one who forced me to watch Futurama.” You shrug, watching him deadpan. You wonder how much further you can tease him before you rile him up. “And you are the one who kissed me first, which then led to us being unproductive for the rest of the day. So, yeah, I’d say you’re the one at fault.”
Thomas just narrows his eyes as he looks down at you. One of his hands comes down to grab hold of your waist to bring you closer to him.
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” He asks, his voice low in tone.
“It’s like that, T.” You say, bringing your hands up to his chest.
“Did you forget that you kissed back? Or that you kissed me the second time? I’d say it was a mutual effort, darlin’. As good of a student you think you are, you pushed back studyin’ just as much as I did.”
He’s right. You are as guilty as he is. And right now, you’re even more guilty because you’re just trying to distract him from giving you your impromptu football lesson. 
You grin at that, leaning up to bring your face closer to his. “Alright, you win. Can’t argue with that.”
“Yeah?” He smiles down at you, his nose brushing against yours.
“Yeah.” You murmur before you push yourself up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his briefly. His arms pull you closer to him as he reciprocates the kiss and deepens it by leaning down and tilting your head up to thread his fingers into your hair. Thomas pulls away suddenly and you find yourself chasing his lips as he retreats.
“Uh uh, I know what you’re doing, sweetheart.” Thomas says, short of breath but grinning at the same time. “You think you’re slick, but I know exactly what you’re up to.”
“What am I up to, Thomas?” Your hands slide down his chest and arms until you lace your fingers with his once more.
He gives you a knowing look. “You’re tryin’ to get outta this tutoring session, but I’m not havin’ it.”
You send him an innocent simper. “Guilty.”
Thomas just chuckles and pecks you on the lips. “I forgive you.”
He then leads you a few feet forward until you're standing in the middle of the painted ‘Panther’ letters in the end zone. “Alright, let’s try this one more time. What is this area called?”
You sigh and look around, taking a second to think. Thomas watches you intently as you rack your brain for the answer. “Um… the end zone?”
A bright grin spreads across Thomas’ face as he beams with pride. “That’s it! You’re so smart, baby.”
You can’t help but smile at his praise as you two start walking again, this time towards center field. He points to the goal line as you walk over it. “When the ball crosses this line, it’s a touchdown, meaning that the team has scored. So, when I cross this line, you better be cheering on the sideline.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “When you cross this line?”
“Yes.” He says, an aura of pretentiousness surrounding him. “Oh, it’ll happen, sweetheart.”
You breath out a laugh, rolling your eyes at him. “You’re so cocky sometimes.”
“Hey, I prefer the word ‘confident’.”
You shake your head, biting your lip in amusement.
You two walk for a bit longer and your heartbeat quickens when you see a beautiful picnic set up in the middle of the huge Panther logo at center field. Your eyes widen in surprise as you look up at Thomas and he’s smiling genuinely at you, one of the smiles that make the corners of his eyes crinkle. And just like that the butterflies are back.
“You did this for me?” You ask, feeling elated.
“I had some help from the guys.” He explains softly. “They went out to pick up the food during their free period.”
You make a mental note to thank James and Aaron later.
“Thomas, this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Your voice is quiet as you look at the picnic (take out from the Thai place you went to a couple months back lies in the middle of the blanket). “Seriously, thank you, T.”
Thomas grins as you lean up to kiss him once more.
“Let’s eat, yeah?” He says before you both go to sit down and open your take out boxes.
After all the food is gone, you just lay on the blanket with Thomas and watch the clouds go by. You can’t stop thinking about how normal everything feels with your boyfriend. You haven’t been together for more than a few days, but it feels like you’ve known each other for years. You’ve never experienced this amount of closeness or intimacy with someone… and it feels so… natural.
“Hey, T?” You ask, voice quiet as you sit up with your legs crossed under you.
“Hmm?” Thomas hums, eyes closed, still laying down. His arm extends out towards you and you take his hand in both of yours. You busy yourself by lightly running your fingers over the lines and grooves of his larger hand.
“You know how you have a secret handshake with James? And the rest of your teammates?”
“Mhm, why?” He asks, opening his eyes to glance over at you. His hand clasps around one of yours and his thumb caresses the top of it.
“We should have one, too.”
Your boyfriend grins at that. “You serious?”
You nod and shrug. “Yeah, it’d be cool.”
“Okay.” He moves to sit up so that he’s right across from you, your hand still in his. “Let’s see what we can come up with.”
You spend the next 20 minutes going through different hand motions and taps to figure out which one would be the best for you two. Both of you look like you’re having a blast creating it.
“Alright, alright, I think we’ve got something here.” Thomas says. “Let’s do it slowly.”
You nod and you extend your hand out to meet his. Your palms meet sideways, then the backs of your hands touch before you tap your palms together again twice. Then, your hands move up to the sides of Thomas’ head to touch his forehead to yours.
You both are grinning as you pull back.
“I think that’s it, T.”
He laughs before leaning forward to kiss you on the nose.
“Can’t wait to do it on game day.”
⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆
It’s finally Friday. After a long week of waiting, game day has finally come.
When you and Maria arrive at the football field, the bleachers aren’t completely filled yet and both teams are warming up and stretching on the turf. You follow Maria to the sidelines so that she can start setting up. While she unpacks her camera, your eyes scan the field for a certain athlete whose jersey number happens to be 14.
You spot Thomas stretching in the middle of the field as he talks to James and Aaron. It’s the first time you see him in uniform and you have to admit… he looks hot. His helmet is off, so you can see the black lines drawn under his eyes along with the headband that spans across his forehead, holding his hair out of his face. His purple jersey hugs his form tightly, making his athletic form way more prominent than usual. On top of that, he seems to have pulled up the bottom of his jersey to reveal his abs as he stretches out. You can’t say you’re surprised to see Thomas Jefferson working out in a crop top.
Thomas seems to be speaking when James looks over in your direction and waves, causing you to wave back. He then says something to Thomas and nods in your direction, bringing your boyfriend’s attention to you. Thomas grins when he sees you, dismisses himself from his teammates, and runs over to you after picking up his helmet to carry it with him.
“Ladies, good to see you.” Your boyfriend greets the both of you as he puts his helmet on the ground. “Maria, nice to see you shooting again. Y/N, it’s great seeing you finally come to a game. Nice hoodie, by the way.” He says, sending you a wink, which causes you to blush.
“Mhm…” Maria hums, distracted by building her camera up and checking all the settings.
“Happy to cheer you on, T. It’s weird seeing you in uniform.” You grin, looking him up and down while biting your lip.
“What’d’ya think, sweetheart? How do I look?” Thomas asks, blue-steeling as if he’s posing for a magazine cover. His gloved hands gesture down his body, highlighting his form like he’s a show girl.
“Like a football player.” You laugh loudly at his antics and bite your lip while he grins at you. “But very handsome, T. I’m loving all the purple. The sleeve is a nice touch, too.”
He chuckles and poses by putting a hand on his hip dramatically, accentuating the purple sleeve on his right arm that hugs his toned bicep. “Yeah? You like it?”
And at that moment, Thomas’ teammates interrupt by yelling in the distance.
“Yeah, Jefferson! Get it!” Burr shouts, causing the football players around him to laugh along and follow along with his teases.
“Strut yo’ stuff!”
“Work it, TJeffs! Show us what you got, pretty boy!” James yells, pretending to take pictures of him like he’s a photographer at a fashion show. Thomas continues to dance around and strut like he’s a supermodel walking on a runway. Meanwhile, Maria is rolling her eyes by your side while you grin and shake your head at Thomas’ and his teammates’ tomfoolery.
Thomas keeps strutting and dancing for a little longer before he stops and shakes his head, laughing at himself.
“Alright, darlin’, I gotta get back.” He says, grabbing his helmet off the ground. He reaches his hand out and you extend yours to do your special handshake like you practiced the other day. 
“Good luck, T.” You say, tapping your hand against his twice. “Kill it out there.” Thomas leans his forehead down to press against yours to complete the handshake. 
“Oh I will, baby, trust me.” He says before winking and leaning in to give you a quick peck on the lips. Then, he starts backing away from you and slips his helmet on. “Panther Pride, remember?” You nod, grabbing and ruffling your (Thomas’) purple Panther Football hoodie. He gives you a quick salute before he turns around to run and warm up with his teammates.
“Y’all are too damn much…” Maria mutters as she changes the lens on her camera.
You pout at her words. The last thing you want is to become one of those annoying clingy couples that make out in the hallways between every class. “Are we really?”
She just looks up at you and smiles softly. It eases your feelings a bit. “A bit too much… but it’s cute. I think you guys are good for each other.”
You give her a shy grin and glance over at Thomas in the near-distance with his back turned to you who seems to be in the zone as he talks to his coach. He (unfortunately) pulls down his jersey so it covers his abs. Probably for game regulation purposes.
“Thanks, Maria.”
⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆
The game has been going back and forth since kickoff. While your team is the first to score in the first quarter, the other team quickly retaliates with a touchdown of their own to even the score. The frustration shown on Coach Washington’s face and through his body language grows more evident as the game goes on.
Right after halftime, the Panthers get a lucky break and Thomas catches a touchdown pass, putting you up by one point. It’s the first time you’ve seen him score, and he knows that, so you’re extremely ecstatic and a sense of pride fills you up. He celebrates in the end zone by dancing with his teammates hitting his helmet and jumping up and down around him. When they break away and Thomas goes running back to the sideline, he blows a kiss in your direction which makes you grin.
That happy moment doesn’t last long, however, because the Beavers come right back with a touchdown of their own, which puts them in the lead once more. After that, the scoreboard goes dry with neither team scoring for a great chunk of time.
The stakes are high. It’s a playoff game, which means that the bleachers for both the Home and Away sides of the stadium are full with fans. The stadium roars with supporters for each side. Everyone seems to be in their zone.
Maria, while she’d left you occasionally throughout the game to get a certain shot of a player or staff member, is beside you, shooting consistently and concentrating on the play that is about to happen. You look for Thomas who is on the field in a huddle with his teammates fulfilling his role as team captain. It seems that he’s hyping them up and giving them a motivational speech so they can close out the game and come out on top.
There are 13 seconds left in the 4th quarter. The Panthers are down by one and Coach Washington is yelling a play into the mic on his headset. The huddle around Thomas breaks and the players all go to line up at the line of scrimmage at center field.
You can’t help but watch Thomas as he moves. Your eyes have been on him all night; he’s the reason why you’re there, anyway. He’s the only reason why you learned the rules of football in the first place. It’s also a plus that he looks extremely attractive in all his glory: muscles and talent and all. It isn’t until now that you understand all of the stigma and hype around him at school; he’s great at what he does, and it’s no wonder why he’s so highly regarded as an athlete at your school.
After a few moments of quiet, the ball snaps and all the players on the field go into motion. Thomas takes off quickly from his initial position at the line of scrimmage and runs towards the end zone while trying to juke his defender. The quarterback throws the ball in Thomas’ direction and he is able to create just enough space between him and his defender to catch the ball, causing you along with the Home crowd to go wild.
He sprints it back to the end zone with his defender hot on his heels. The defender tackles him, but it’s too late. Thomas has already gotten the ball past the goal line, signifying that the Panthers have won the game.
For a moment, you’re worried that he’d gotten hurt while tackled, but he’s up and celebrating by spiking the football in no time.
“We won!” Maria says beside you before she turns her camera to capture the team’s reactions and celebrations on the field.
“We won!” You echo and you find that it’s the first time you’ve been truly excited about a sports win. You know how much this means to Thomas, and because of that, it means a lot to you, too.
Thomas’ teammates surround him in the end zone jumping up around him and pushing him around excitedly. He chest bumps and touches helmets with James and a few more of his teammates before the two teams line up to shake hands. After Coach Washington congratulates him, he starts to run over to you. 
You find yourself growing more and more excited the closer he gets and when he reaches you, you’re grinning wide. You push up his helmet to expose his face and you both lean in for a celebratory kiss. You hear Maria’s camera click beside you as you both smile against one another. 
“Proud of you, T.” You murmur when you pull back. Thomas looks like he wants to go in for another kiss, but his teammates interrupt by crowding around him from behind.
“You girls may wanna get away from here because Jefferson here is about to get drenched with Gatorade.” Burr warns you and Maria.
You both nod and back away from the scene and you mouth, “see you in a bit,” to Thomas. He nods before going to celebrate with his teammates.
When you and Maria get a safe distance away, Maria looks through the photos on her camera.
“Aw, you guys are adorable. That’s definitely going in the yearbook.” She says before tilting the camera so you can see a nice photo of you and Thomas kissing with his teammates excited about the playoff win in the background. You flush at seeing the image.
“Maria…” You trail off, your jaw slack from amazement. “That picture is amazing. My best friend is so talented.”
“Aw, thank you, girl.” She says, giving you a hug. “I’m just happy you’re happy.”
You smile before looking back at Thomas once more. He looks like he’s having the time of his life with his teammates and as he’s getting drenched with water and Gatorade, his gaze catches yours and you feel your heart soar when his grin seems to brighten (if that’s even possible) at the sight of you.
You are happy. He makes you happy.
277 notes · View notes
power-rings · 4 years
Text
A Different Life
50 Years Ago...
-
Of what Shadow could see was all just a blur of colors as his escape pod entered the Earth’s atmosphere, the very thing that was keeping him from burning alive was falling to pieces as it continued to descend...very rapidly. 
The events before he escaped his home - The Space Colony A.R.K, it was literally hell. Gunfire after gunfire, his Creator disappearing from his eyesight within seconds after they were ambushed. Why was this happening? He never understood. Among all of that, Maria was under fire as well. He had hollered from his escape capsule for her to get to safety. Before he knew it, she had been shot.  In the chest. Words were exchanged between the two, and before he knew it, his escape pod was released. Was she... gone? Never to be seen again? 
Shadow braced for impact as the ground grew closer and closer. He blacked out momentarily, he shook his head as his ears started to ring. Cringing in pain, he glanced up to the blue sky. The hedgehog would be awed by the beauty if the circumstances were different. He scanned his surroundings, it looked like he was on some kind of Island... soon he found the strength to roam the island. There was no sign of another escape pod. Perhaps she landed elsewhere... he quietly hoped. The sound of commotion distracted his search for his companion. There were more men dressed in the same attire that attacked their home. A low growl escaped the hedgehog. What did they want?!
“Commander!  The lifeform just landed on the Island. Do you wish for us to capture?” Shadow’s ears pinned back, prepared for a fight. “Yes, sir! We’ll need backup...” The human tensed up, as he raised his gun, loaded and ready to fire. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He muttered, as more men in uniform joined him. He fired a shot at the target, Shadow quickly dodged, and ran in the other direction. Forgetting there was a unwelcoming sea. He may be the ultimate lifeform, but he did not know anything about the ocean, except the creatures that lived in it.  He whirled around to face his enemy. Of course, they were quick to charge at him before he made a move. With the training he took at home, he was able to dodge every blow; only a few bullets brushing against his arm. The last soldier he kicked away, while another approached Shadow from behind...jabbing something sharp in his neck. Shadow swung a fist at the man, making contact with his jaw, he felt his neck. Odd. No blood? What did... oh wait, there it is. Everything around him started to spin out of control, he shook his head with no prevail. Before he knew it, he was shaking, and on his hands and knees while they gathered around him. Everything went completely black. He was out cold. 
When he woke up hours later... or was it the next day? Damn, at this point he didn’t care. What woke him was a familiar voice... Prof. Gerald Robotnik, better known to him as his creator. 
He was angry. 
“This was not the deal, at all! She had nothing to do with this!” Gerald shouted from down the hall. “He... listen! Damn you.. I built that place to protect this world. I created...-”
“What about....” whatever was said, it was inaudible to Shadow’s ears.
“...I did exactly as you selfish fools asked for, and paid me millions for. What I get in response? My granddaughter was shot for Christ’s sake! I see I made a mistake striking a deal with the likes of you....”
If anything else was spoken between the two, was muttered to Shadow as they moved to another room further from the one he was currently in. There were so many questions he had, what did his creator mean? They paid him? For what exactly?! Quite frankly, he only wanted to know if Maria was still alive. 
--
“Prison Island, really?” The elderly Professor scoffed, disgusted with the current circumstances. 
“A perfect place for criminals, don’t you think?” The commander eyed the shorter human.
“I am not a criminal.”
“That’s what they all say.” Prof. Gerald glared, “besides, you should be grateful before you leave this world... that your granddaughter’s life was spared. Oh, need I remind you before you blame my soldiers, she did intervene in the capture of Project: Shadow. Therefore, my soldier did his job like trained beforehand.”
“She’s still a child!” Gerald was furious about his last statement, despite his hate against the commander, he was relieved to hear Maria was alive. The commander guided him to her room where she was lying in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV, and various machines to keep her stable. She was still out of it, but all her vitals read normal.
--
“In the upcoming days, you will be granted a trial. Lucky you.  If you wish, you can say your goodbyes to your granddaughter. In the chair where you’ll be spend your last hour. Whatever you say will be recorded for legal purposes.” 
“Do you have any questions, Professor?” 
“I just want to see my granddaughter.” Gerald didn’t fight his consequences anymore, he had his plan ready for the years to come and that involved his greatest creation.  He had requested to have some of his former colleagues to join him in the lab that he use to work at a lot before this island became a prison. He told Maria he loved her, and as him and the other Professors watched her vitals, “you’re gonna go to sleep for awhile, ok? Once you wake up... maybe you’ll still see the beauty in this world. Somehow.” He held her hand, “I love you, my dear..” tears stung his eyes. Young and innocent. She was so blinded to the sins of this world. Oh how he wished he had felt that way. Maria looked up at him, there was a hint of panic in her eyes before falling into a deep slumber. The last thing he requested before being sent away to his death sentence, he wanted her to rest someplace a little more comfortable instead of the eerie Island they were on. 
Shadow too was preserved in a capsule, but remained on Prison Island because G.U.N was wary of how dangerous Shadow could be. He was sealed underneath the prison, to be remained untouched until the appropriate time came. 
-
Today...
Approximately, 30 years later Maria was found in Mystic Ruins when a group of people were investigating, soon she was taken to the hospital to be checked out. She was perfectly healthy...
Maria searched the room, there was a t.v displaying the news, info about the recent events around the world. The longer she watched the more she grew confused. How long has she been asleep? What happened to Shadow? And grandpa? Neither of which she knew the answers to. She got up from her bed, and stumbled to the windows, tugging at the cord to open the blinds. She was blinded by the sunlight. Once her eyes adjusted, she took in the surroundings and was in awe. Not exactly the beautiful forest she saw in books, instead she was welcomed to the busy life of the city. 
Hours, days and weeks passed by and Maria remained in the hospital, the doctors in awe of how she was still healthy after being asleep for roughly 30 years. They ran tests, poked and prodded her. Finally after the second week, the doctors left her be. Then, the cops came to ask her questions. She vaguely remembered much except her former home, save for the hellish events that almost took her life. Of course, she remembered her best friend... Shadow. But why wasn’t he in the hospital with her?  No one knew who she was talking about, of course. Eventually, she was released from the hospital and sent to a foster family had a close connection to the local orphanage. They of course welcomed her with loving arms. 
As she grew accustomed to her now current life on Earth, Maria attended the school located in Station Square, she fit right in with her classmates. She told them stories about living in space, but they didn’t believe her. Unfortunately, she had no evidence to prove her story. She would look at pictures they shared of space at school, then she would burst out where the A.R.K was located (to them it looked like a bright star). Her adopted parents listened to these stories, but was unaware of the existence of this creation.
No one took her seriously when she brought the subject up, that was until her “parents” met with her teacher at a local café to discuss her progress in school. “Yeah, she speaks about this place called... The Space Colony A.R.K, I’m not sure where she got this from-” They were interrupted by a tall gentleman in a uniform.
“Excuse me? Did you just say the Space Colony A.R.K?”
Slightly frightened, the wife confirmed his suspicions.
“...Strange. What’s your daughter’s name?“
“Maria...” The male at the table squinted at the taller individual.
“...R-Robotnik?!” 
“Why does her last name concern you?!” He stood up from the table, his eyes accusing the stranger.
“Mr. Tower, what the hell? Leave them be. We must head back to headquarters.” The other gentleman joined them, their uniforms similar.  This so called Mr. Tower muttered something under his breath before leaving with the soldier.
-
Roughly 10 years later, Shadow was found on Prison Island by Gerald Robotnik’s grandson...well-known as Dr.Eggman, his greatest plan was starting to unfold... 
Author’s note:
chapter 2 is coming hopefully. Ok it’s bedtime... Haha
13 notes · View notes
awakendreamersworld · 3 years
Link
Here’s Chapter 9! Missing Love
The next day, Doria had Maria go back to school so she could become stronger than she was before, "And don't worry about and her friends, I already had a long talk to them and their parents." Doria said and kissed Maria on the head and waved goodbye before swimming away to her post to protect the Sea Emperors and the kingdom. Maria swam towards her class a bit nervous hoping they wouldn't bring up her 'incident.' "Ok, class! Today we're gonna play a little game of hide and seek, the rules are simple: I'm gonna place these human stuff around and you have to find them, whoever has the most human items wins! I'm gonna be the human who's gonna try to find you all, don't get caught! You get caught, your out! So try to find some place to hide." Mr. Powell said and everyone began hiding, Maria hid next to Emily who was sitting behind a rock. "Hey." Maria whispered, "Hey, are your wounds ok?" Emily whispered back looking at her bandages "Yeah, they're fine." Maria said smiling. Maria then looked behind the rock and saw a human item, it was a nickel, she looked around for the teacher and quickly swam towards it and picked it up then quickly swam back behind the rock with Emily, "Got one!" Maria said and showed Emily, Emily pulled out a bag with dozens of human items inside, "Whoa your good!" Maria said amazed "Dorms have a very unique sense of smell to find objects." Said Emily. After a few hours of everyone collecting, hiding and getting caught the game was over and the teacher started tallying up who got the most. "Omar and Sebastian, first place! Maria and Emily, second place! Kristine and Danny, third place!" Mr. Powell announced, some of the class cheered and some remained silent, then it was time for lunch. While Maria was trying to eat her lunch with Emily, some of the other students came and started asking her questions like, "Is it true you were attacked by a shark?" Or "How deep was the Midnight Zone? How'd you get out? What creatures did you see down there?" Then some came and apologized about her mother's death and how cool she was and that they hope Maria will grow up to be like her some day. Maria thanked them then continued with her lunch break. After school, and being tired of everyone's questions, Maria just wanted to go to bed and forget about everything that just happened, forget about the questions they asked. She looked up at Alberto's record player, she reached up to the handle to turn it and it began playing the singing lady again. It made her smile, then she turned over and looked up at her seashell ceiling and thought about Alberto, "I wonder how he's doing..." She said.
Giulia opened her window and played her trumpet noises once again which, again, startled Alberto awake, "Could you please stop doing that!?" He shouted "Well, its the only way to get you up, big guy! C'mon, breakfast is ready!" Giulia said and hopped down from the window and began running downstairs to the kitchen with Luca and sat at the table waiting for Massimo to get done with the pasta. Alberto came downstairs and saw Luca and Giulia reading another boring book while eating next to each other, Alberto sighed and sat across from them and ate his pasta trying to ignore their conversations of what he thinks is useless and boring stuff. Once done, Massimo asked Alberto to come and help him hunt for some more fish and so that everyone can get the day started getting their jobs done. Once at the docks, Alberto and Massimo climbed onto the boat and started heading towards the open sea, Alberto navigated Massimo where the fish were and Massimo threw the giant net into the water to catch some fish. Alberto sat and waited for Massimo to finish when he turned to his right and saw something light blue, he thought it was Maria's dress attached to Maria, "Maria?" He said smiling hoping that was her, but it turned out to be a little kid wearing a swimsuit and holding up a bucket of clams. Alberto sighed in sadness and frowned and looked down. "I know, Alberto. I miss her too, she was good person. But we must wait till she heals, shark bites are very powerful and could tear you in two if your not careful. She's a strong woman, she'll make it through." Massimo said taking the net out to reveal a giant pile of fish and brought onto the boat. "I know but, how long do we have to wait?" Alberto said, "I don't know, but only time will tell. We must be patient." Massimo said and started the boat's engine and began heading back to town. Giulia and Luca were finishing their deliveries riding down the hill back to their home, "HA! A new record!" Giulia said looking at her stopwatch and then hopping of her bike, Luca hopped of the back of the empty cart and came up behind her "Wow, that was quick!" He said "Hehe yeah!" Giulia said and then saw her dad and Alberto return with another giant pile of fish they caught. "Woohoo! Another great catch!" Giulia cheered, "Thanks to your friend here." Massimo said patting Alberto's shoulder, "Its no problem" He said trying to act casual and went inside the house, Giulia and Luca looked at him knowing something was wrong. "He's just heartbroken. Just give it time." Massimo said, Luca and Giulia looked at each other with worry then walked back inside their home.
Alberto was up in the tree looking up at the sky, once again thinking about Maria, wishing she was right next to him like before. Luca came through the window onto the tree and sat next to Alberto.
"Hey Alberto." He said,
"If your gonna ask me about Maria, don't, I don't wanna hear it." Alberto said and turned over to his left side
"I-I wasn't!" Luca said "I just wanted to ask if your ok."
"I'm fine, now just leave me alone and go to sleep or read another boring book about whatever." Said Alberto
Luca looked down then left the tree back through the window into Giulia's room, "How'd it go?" Giulia asked.
Luca sighed, "He doesn't want to talk about it..."
"Let's just leave him for now, he'll feel better when Maria returns from recovery." Giulia said.
A few weeks later, Maria woke up the next morning feeling better but still felt like something was missing, like a big part of her, and she felt a little sick, but didn't bother and went to her aunt so she could check her wounds. Maria sat up on the table and Doria took off her bandages to see if her wounds healed, Maria's wounds turned into scars and seemed to be healed. "Ok, your healed, but we need to wait one more day for your scars to get used to being revealed without the bandages, otherwise they'll dry and burn." Doria said, Maria gasped and cheered and hugged her aunt. "Ok, now, go on ahead to school before your late." Doria said and Maria began swimming to her school. She told Emily the good news and said that she'll be returning to Alberto tomorrow morning, "That's great, Maria! I bet he's gonna be so happy to see you!" Emily said happily "I know, it feels like its been forever!" Maria said excited, "Oh, please..." A voice behind them came up, it was Alice with her friends "The only thing your 'boyfriend' is gonna do is expose you to the humans and get you captured, that's what Sea Monsters do." She said, "How do you know? I never seen you with a Sea Monster before, much less prove that they do that." Maria said "Because I know, I don't have to prove it." Alice said, "So... You just know, but won't show anyone any proof?" Maria said then bursted out laughing and so did Emily, "That doesn't make any sense!" She said still laughing, Alice blushed from embarrassment and looked around and saw everyone else giggling at her. "Y-Yeah? Well, prove me wrong then!" Alice yelled "Four words, 'ask the Sea emperors'" Maria said and turned back around giggling and eating the rest of her food "I mean, unless your too scared." Maria teased, Alice scoffed, "Fine! I WILL prove that I'm right and that YOUR wrong, shark bait!" Alice yelled and swam off towards the Sea Emperors' facility overconfident. "I can't wait to see the look on her face when she realizes that rules changed." Maria said, "Yeah, heh." Emily said "I still can't believe you used to be friends with her." Maria said "Yeah, well, your a better friend than she is." Emily said smiling at Maria "Thanks." Maria said "I'm actually gonna miss you when I'm gone." "Me too, but I can still come and visit!" Said Emily "That'd be great!" Maria said and then they finished eating and when school was done for the day, they waved goodbye and headed home.
Maria swam back home and ran into Alice with a grumpy face, "How'd it go with proving me wrong?" She smirked. Alice didn't say anything, she gave an angry look at Maria then swam away and Maria smiled with pride that she was right as she swam the rest of the way home. "Welcome home, Maria! How was school?" Doria asked, "It was great, I'm just gonna miss Emily when I leave." Maria said "Hop up here and let me take another look at your scars, just to make sure they aren't drying up." Doria said and Maria hopped up on the table to get checked out. Doria looked over Maria's scars, they seemed to be healing perfectly, but thought maybe another week should have them healed and 'used to' the bandages not on them. "Ok, just let me add this ointment and they'll be fine within a week!" Doria said grabbing the medicine from the rocky cabinet, "WHAT!? But you said-" Maria cried "Yes I know what I said, but I'm just trying to make sure your scars don't go bad and begin to wither, wrinkling your scales so that they look old." Doria said applying the medicine onto Maria's scars, Maria groaned in anger, how long must she wait? Seriously, she's starting to act like her mother, Firtha.
Once Doria was finished applying the ointment, she sent Maria to bed. Maria was very upset that she had to wait longer than expected, she sighed and turned over towards the record player again. Every time she looked at the record player, she can't help but think or feel like Alberto is right behind her, but he isn't. She missed him a lot, he was fun to hang out with, and willing to be in a relationship with her that easily, especially since he wasn't even in a trance. That's odd, usually the Siren Song would hypnotize their victims, but Maria didn't sing the Siren Song, she sang something else, something she felt besides the song. These feelings were something weird, Maria never felt like this before, like she's being left alone or forgotten, invisible from everyone and everything. But Alberto, when she first met him, he showed her everything, he wasn't ignoring her or making her feel invisible, he was helping her see for the first time in millennia that she was truly 'free' that she was able to be herself and that she didn't have to hide anymore! He was the actually the one who 'cared' for her and not keeping her away from the world, he gave her ice cream, knew that the rules were wrong and was there for her when she was on the edge of death. Its just like he said: 'I would follow you through ANY deep ocean depth.' It was so weird, besides her mother, she never missed someone so much in her life. What was this feeling? Maria knew she's seen and felt it before, but what? Was this feeling perhaps what everyone called... Love? Maria just had to see Alberto again, to stop all these weird emotions from circling around in her head, to be comfortable without worrying so much, but she didn't want to wait that long, so she came up with a plan.
Alberto was swimming in the water rounding up some fish for Massimo, he managed to get them entangled in the net and Massimo pulled them up onto the boat. "Perfetto, Alberto." He said "Yeah, I'm pretty much an expert on fish." Alberto said turning back into his human form. Then Massimo started the boat and they began heading back to shore just as Giulia and Luca were getting done with the deliveries. Once everything was finished, they went back inside and ate pasta. Alberto was back on top of the tree, not wanting to talk or hear Giulia and Luca going awe over some stupid books. Giulia climbed on top of the tree to see if she could try to talk to him.
"Alberto, can we talk? I know you miss Maria, and there isn't anything you can say to me that's going to get me to not talk to you." Giulia said "Can you at least tell me what's wrong? Besides venting about Maria?"
"Ugh, fine, since you won't shut up about it." Alberto sighed annoyed, "Look, I don't know what's wrong with me. I've just been getting these really weird feelings I don't know about, and they hurt, mostly in my chest. And every time I think of Maria these weird feelings race around my head, like I miss her or I need, like REALLY need to see her!" Alberto cried.
"Aye, Alberto. You have 'Broken Heart Syndrome.'" Giulia said
"What's that?" He asked
"Its when you miss someone so much that your heart begins to ache and you feel like you can't breathe, they're caused by stressful events." Giulia said
"So I'm stressed and... Brokenhearted?" Alberto said,
"Yes! Because of how much you love Maria, yet, she's not here and hasn't been here for a while, your brokenhearted." Giulia said,
"Love?" Alberto asked
"Yeah! Wait, you were really in love with Maria, Right?" Giulia asked,
"Well, most of the time I was just hanging out with her cause I saw you with Luca and it made me feel isolated... But then, after a while, when we were swimming to my island, I think that's when these feelings started, when we were having fun jumping out the water. Then there was a moment where we just looked at each other, I dunno, I thought I was just dizzy from jumping too much." Alberto said
"Yes! That's what love is! A great interest in something or an intense feeling of deep affection!" Giulia exclaimed.
Alberto looked down and thought about it for a moment, all those times with Maria, getting ice cream, fighting Ercole, swimming together, even down there in the Midnight Zone when he kissed Maria on the forehead, he really just did it cause he saw humans do it, but now that he thought about it, was that actually...? For once, he actually believed Giulia, he was in love with Maria! "But, how do I cure my 'Broken' Heart?" he asked "First off, STAND UP STRAIGHT! Just because Maria's been gone for a few weeks doesn't mean she isn't coming back, and it doesn't mean its the end of the world! Second, don't beat yourself up, its not your fault she left. She's injured and wounds take up time to heal. You need to stop worrying and get over it, Maria's fine." Giulia said. "Uhh... Ok?" Alberto said a little scared whenever Giulia yells like that, "Anyways, that's all I wanted to say! Goodnight Alberto!" Giulia said heading back to her window into her room and closing the window.
Alberto turned back and looked down, he was really thinking about what Giulia just said about 'love.' 'An intense feeling of deep affection' he thought, he layed back down and looked at the sky, for some reason he could hear Maria's song play in his head, he remembers the lyrics: 'Let's run away into the sea as I hold you close to me. Let's slide beneath the waves down into the caves. If you wanna escape with me, come take my hand. We'll run away to a better land, a better land.' He told her to sing something she felt, is that what she felt about him? To run away with him into the sea to some place better? After finding that out, it just seemed to worsen his affection for Maria, he wanted to find her, to tell her he's sorry for kind of faking his love interest in her, and that after realizing his great interest in Maria he wanted to tell her how much he really loved her, how much he 'needed' to be with her, to SEE her. Giulia's words echoed in his head, 'A great interest in something or an intense feeling of deep affection, that's what love is.' "So... these 'intense feelings' are...  love?" He said to himself looking down and then looking back up at the starry sky.
Link to other chapters: chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8
1 note · View note
sunriserose1023 · 5 years
Text
Merry & Married {8}
SUMMARY: It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone. Enter Bucky Barnes, the best friend you’ve ever had. You fill him in, and of course he agrees to go home with you. What are friends for? Never mind the fact that he’s desperately in love with you. And if you hadn’t sworn off men forever, you might just find him … attractive. So there you are, surrounded by love, bridesmaid dresses, champagne, and no less than one hundred sprigs of mistletoe. What could possibly go wrong? WORD COUNT: 2919 WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Emotional angst, presumably unrequited love, friends to lovers, fluff, happily ever after, written for the @heamarvel​​​​​​​ Holiday Movie Challenge
Masterlist
Tumblr media
“Okay, I have wine for us lucky girls and Oreos for the pregnant one.”
Hope groaned, sitting in the papazan chair in the corner and pouting. 
“Can I just smell the wine? Just a quick sniff. No one has to know.”
You giggled, taking the glass Natasha poured you. Darcy was sitting beside you on the bed, and Carol was sprawled on the floor between the bed and Hope in the chair. Natasha sat down near Carol once everyone had been served, and Hope glared at you while she twisted cookies apart, eating the middle first. 
“I miss wine.” “I’m sure it misses you too, sissy.”
Carol cackled when Hope kicked at her. You nodded to Hope. 
“How much longer do you have?”
She closed one eye as she calculated. 
“Six, seven weeks? I mean, it’s really up to the baby. My doc says first babies need to come on their own, unless they’re too big or it’s just clear nothing’s going.”
You nodded, and Darcy smiled, both hands holding her wine glass. 
“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
Hope smiled, one hand moving to slowly rub her belly. 
“I think it’s a boy. Scott and Cassie are convinced it’s a girl, though.”
You took a sip of wine, then spoke. 
“Hey, how are things with Cassie’s mom?” “Much better. We didn’t have to go to court for this Christmas.”
You made a face. 
“You had to fly back like right after the wedding last year, didn’t you?”
Hope nodded, still slowly rubbing her belly. 
“Maggie blew a gasket, said Cassie couldn’t have Christmas without her mother. But she’s mellowed out a lot. She married a cop.”
Your eyebrows raised and Hope gave a soft chuckle. 
“That was my reaction when Cassie told us her mommy was dating a police officer.”
Hope shook her head, looking down at her belly. Darcy looked to Carol and spoke after she took a sip of her wine. 
“Any new prospects on the Carol front?”
Carol made a face and glanced over her shoulder. 
“Hey, where’s your friend Jane? I invited her.” “She’s on her way. Forgot her makeup bag or something at the hotel she and Thor are staying at.” “I’m sorry, Thor?” “Stop trying to change the subject!”
You, Hope, and Natasha laughed. Carol groaned, moving to sit with her legs crossed. She finished off her wine, making grabby hands for the bottle Natasha was holding. After pouring herself another glass, Carol spoke softly. 
“I’ve been sort of shifting my focus from teaching to photography. I know it sounds stupid, but—“ “It doesn’t sound stupid.”
Carol smiled at you, then sighed. 
“I don’t know. I like the kids and I like teaching, but … I keep coming home to my empty apartment and sitting on my couch and thinking ‘Is this it? Is this all there is to life?’”
She shrugged her shoulders, looking down into her glass. 
“So I got a camera and started snapping some pictures. One of my coworkers was pregnant and wanted some maternity pics, but she couldn’t afford a professional photographer. So I took some pictures for her and she loved them. Another one of the teachers wanted a Christmas card with her kids, so I took that, too.”
She shrugged again. 
“It’s different than what I’ve done. It’s like … I don’t know. It’s like I’m seeing the world differently all of a sudden. I’m seeing more colors and how things could look through a shutter and I don’t really understand it, but I like it.”
You and your cousins were all smiling when Carol finished speaking. Natasha leaned over and took Carol’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Carol smiled over at her. 
“And I got the bartender’s number tonight.” “Really?”
Carol nodded to Darcy. 
“Her name’s Val, so I’m relieved because you know she’s a lesbian with a name like Val.”
You and your cousins laughed, and Carol grinned before she exchanged looks with everyone but you. When you met her dark eyes, she nodded. 
“Now you.”
You groaned, finishing off your wine and holding your glass out to Natasha. She refilled you and you sighed. 
“I think we’ve talked enough about me this trip.” “We beg to differ.”
You narrowed your eyes at Hope, and she lifted a shoulder, then relaxed. You huffed out a breath and Darcy was the one to speak softly. 
“So you and Bucky … why aren’t you together?”
You started chewing on your bottom lip, staring into your wine glass like it could give you an answer. You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders. You missed the look Hope and Carol shared, and the way Natasha looked back to both of them. Darcy tapped the stem of her glass with a fingernail. 
“I mean … he seems like a nice guy. Real nice. Everybody in the family loves him. I seriously think Nana may try to adopt him.”
You smiled at that, then sighed. 
“I don’t know. It’s not him. It’s me. I … I’m scared.” “Scared of what?”
You closed your eyes, speaking almost in a whisper. 
“Scared that if I give him a chance, he’ll turn out to be just like Peter.”
Carol scoffed and you looked over to her. She shook her head. 
“He’s not like Peter.” “You’re just saying that because you love me and you like him.” “No, I’m saying it because it’s the truth, goddamn it.”
Hope successfully managed to pull Carol’s wine glass out of her reach as Carol moved to sit on her knees. 
“You can’t sit there and think all guys are going to turn out to be like that tiny dicked prick.”
Yours and Darcy’s eyes widened as Natasha tried to hide her smile. Hope just rolled her eyes, popping a cookie into her mouth. You shook your head. 
“I don’t—“ “Yes, you do! You’re scared you’ll get hurt again, so you’re closing yourself off. You can’t live like that, Y/N.” “Don’t you think I know that?!”
You stood up and Darcy grabbed your wine glass before it spilled all over the bed. You started pacing the room, and your cousins sat in silence, just watching you. 
“Don’t you think I know how he feels about me? He’s crappy at trying to hide it. But he doesn’t say anything because he knows I’m closed off. He didn’t even know anything about Peter or that whole debacle until I got Darcy’s invitation.” “So what’d he do when you told him?”
You stopped, turning back to look at Darcy. Her eyes were wide and she shook her head, an expectant look on her face. You blinked, mouth opening, Natasha cutting you off before you could speak. 
“Said Peter was a cunt and Y/N deserves better.”
You made a face.
“I hate that word.” “It fits, though.”
Hope enthusiastically nodded in agreement with Carol. You covered your face with your hands while your cousins exchanged a look. You shook your head, letting your hands fall. 
“I don’t want to be like this. I love being around him. He makes me feel … I don’t know.” “Happy?”
You looked to Hope, who lifted her shoulders. 
“Loved?”
You looked to Carol, who was sitting with her arms around her legs, head resting on her drawn-up knees. You nodded at them, moving a hand to just under your ribcage. 
“I’m comfortable with him and how touchy-feely we are. We’re a lot alike, but we’re different, too. And every time I even think of maybe trying something with him, I get this … overwhelming feeling in my chest that he’s going to hurt me just like Peter did. And I know it’s not true, but I …”
You moved your hand to the center of your chest, where your heart was pounding. You closed your eyes and Natasha walked to you, taking your hands and forcing you to breathe with her. You gave a broken breath, hanging your head. Carol stood up and stopped in front of you, taking your hands and giving them a hard squeeze. You looked into her eyes, shocked to see them shimmering with tears. She gave a shake of her head, a sad smile coming to her lips. 
“Don’t wait. Stop letting your head get in the way of your heart. You love this boy, and he loves you. Go get him.”
You started to shake your head, and Carol squeezed your hands again. 
“You don’t get to decide how long you have with someone. You don’t get to choose if you’ll be together forever. But trust me when I say, the time you do get? Cherish it. Every second you have with him, tuck it away in your heart and cherish it, because …”
She didn’t finish her sentence—couldn’t speak through the tears—and you surged forward to hold her. Carol buried her face in your shoulder as you stroked her hair, and you glanced around the room to see Natasha with her arm around Darcy, Hope staring at the ceiling as tears dripped down her cheeks. 
After a moment, Carol spoke again, softly whispering in your ear. 
“Maria loved me the way Bucky loves you. Don’t throw that away, Y/N. Don’t push it aside and think it will always be there, because it might not.”
You nodded, closing your eyes when Carol kissed your cheek, both of you tightening your hold on each other. 
Tumblr media
You walked down to the kitchen a little after three A.M., unable to sleep. You stopped in your tracks, a soft smile coming to your face when you saw the cup of tea waiting. 
“How did you know?”
Your grandmother lifted her shoulders, a soft smile on her face. 
“Nana’s intuition.”
You adjusted your robe, pulling it tighter around you, walking to sit across from her at the table. 
“Nana, it’s freezing.” “I know. I turned the heaters on, but they haven’t gotten up to snuff yet. I didn’t expect the weather to turn this cold.”
A slow smile came to your lips. 
“Do you think it’ll snow?”
She smiled. 
“I think it might.”
You glanced towards the window.
“Darcy could have a white wedding.” “Sweetheart, can we talk?”
You looked to her and nodded, moving the bag around your teacup. She didn’t say anything else and after a long moment, you broke the silence. 
“How did you fall in love with Papa?”
A soft smile came to your grandmother’s face. 
“I saw him in his Army uniform and thought he was cute. He walked over, asked my name, asked if I’d write to him while he was gone overseas.” “Did you?”
Nana gave you a side-eye that made you giggle. 
“Of course I did. I barely knew him, but I definitely had a crush, so I wanted to write him every day. I settled for once a week. Didn’t want to seem too eager, you know?”
You smiled and she did the same as she stared into her cup of tea. 
“The very first letter he wrote me, he told me he was going to marry me. I scoffed and rolled my eyes when I read it, but deep down … I knew he was right.” “And you married after the war?”
She nodded, lifting a hand to touch the necklace she always wore, one he’d given her on their wedding day.
“He drove me crazy and I must have thought of leaving him a million times. Especially when those girls came along. Janet bossing everyone around, Nadia crying, your mother yelling just to try to be heard, May oblivious to it all. I remember standing in this kitchen in the center of the chaos, not even pregnant with Pepper yet, and thinking ‘Could he handle it if I left?’”
She looked to you and you shrugged your shoulders. 
“Do you think he could?”
She smiled. 
“It wasn’t ever an option. Anytime I told him I wanted to leave, he said ‘Give me five minutes to pack a bag and I’ll go with you.’”
You gave a quiet laugh and she shook her head. 
“I told him all the time, ‘You’re defeating the purpose of me leaving you if you leave too.’ He didn’t care. Tried to convince me the girls could fend for themselves.”
The two of you laughed together and you reached to take her hand. 
“I miss Papa Stan.” “Oh, I miss him too, my darling. But I wouldn’t trade the life we shared for anything. The memories … I barely have a single memory that’s my own. Everything is tangled up in Stan and the girls and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You stared into your cup and she spoke again. 
“I never liked Peter.”
You lifted your head, eyes wide. 
“Nana.” “I’m serious. He wasn’t right for you.” “Why didn’t you tell me that?” “Would you have listened?”
You blinked and she gave a shake of her head, a soft smile on her lips. 
“You were so wrapped up in planning the wedding. Who was I to tell you it was a mistake?”
You shook your head. 
“You should have. It would have saved—“ “What, money? Please. We have plenty of that.”
You looked down at your hands. 
“Heartbreak.”
You stared at the hand she reached across the table, moving to set your hand in hers. 
“Y/N, darling, my mother used to say that we all have to climb Fool’s Hill. Some of us stay longer than others, but we all must do it.”
You lifted wet eyes to hers, and that same soft smile was on her lips. 
“I hate what happened to you. No one should have to go through something like that. But you had to be the one to go through it. And look at you now.”
Her smile widened. 
“You moved to New York, started a new job that you’re excelling at. You’ve made friends and started your own life. You wouldn’t have had a life of your own with Peter.” “You don’t think so?” “My darling, I know so. You never would have left this town. You’d be having babies and you’d end up as Peter’s wife, whoever’s mom. You wouldn’t be yourself. You wouldn’t have an identity of your own.”
You blinked, realization suddenly hitting you. Maybe it would have been a good life, but it wouldn’t be anything like your grandmother’s. Or even your mother’s. You’d be stuck, in what you’d come to see as a loveless marriage, forced to choose to live with it and turn a blind eye to whatever Peter decided he wanted, or to upend the lives of the children you’d inevitably already be expecting. 
You lifted your head to stare at your grandmother, and she smiled as she patted your hand. 
“And now here you are, back at the scene of the crime, so to speak, stronger than you even imagine.” “I don’t feel very strong.” “You are. We all see it. And we’re all so proud of you.”
She took her hands away, lifting her cup of tea to her lips. 
“None of us more so than that Yankee boy you brought home with you.”
You felt your cheeks warm. 
“Nana—“ “He’s a good one, my love. You wouldn’t have to worry about losing yourself with him. He wouldn’t let you.” “I’m scared.” “Of what? You think he’ll hurt you? My sweet girl, that boy would crawl on broken glass before he’d let you get a paper cut.”
You closed your eyes, tears welling up behind the closed lids. You felt her hand on yours, the words she spoke engraving themselves onto your heart. 
“Love isn’t about not being scared. It’s being scared, but taking the chance and loving anyway.”
You blinked your eyes open and she nodded to you. 
“Do you think I just sat around and wrote letters while your grandfather was at war? I spent every day terrified he wouldn’t come home. Every night, I fell asleep on my knees, begging God to keep him safe. And then when he came home and asked me to marry him? I was petrified. I didn’t know how to be someone’s wife. But when I told him how scared I was, he told me he was, too. And we figured it out together. He helped me and I helped him. Same thing when our babies came. I didn’t know how to be a mother, but Stan believed in me and together, we raised a beautiful family.”
She shook her head, gripping your hand tightly. 
“Be scared. But don’t let it hold you back. Let it fuel your fire instead.”
You swallowed, gripping her hand just as tightly. 
“I love him.” “I know you do.” “I have to tell him.”
She smiled, nodding her head. 
“Not tonight. He’s gone with Ian and the boys. They’re probably all passed out drunk right now.”
You gave a laugh that she echoed. You nodded towards the ceiling. 
“Carol and Nat are passed out, too. Darcy’s a lightweight and she was the first to go.”
Nana laughed, shaking her head. You yawned and she smiled, patting your hand. 
“And that’s our cue to go join them. Hair and makeup starts bright and early for you girls.”
You nodded, standing up and taking your teacup to the sink. You looked out the window and a smile came to your face. 
“Nana, look.”
She walked up behind you, a soft gasp leaving her lips. 
“Well, would you look at that? It’s snowing.”
Tumblr media
TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @walkingchemicalfire​, @eileenalone​, @mrsalh32611​​, @alexxcorona113​​, @ivoryhazlewood​​, @chaoticfanatic​, @rhapsody-in-flannel​​, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​​, @captainchrisstan​, @ninaminaromina​​, @geeksareunique​​, @allsortsofinterests​​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @misplacedorphan​​, @chrisevansgirl​​, @whimsicalatbest​​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​, @isaxhorror​​, @redhairedfeistynerd​​, @n3rdybird​, @moonlessnight14​​, @momobaby227​​, @what-is-your-plan-today​, @pinknerdpanda​​, @smolandrare-coffee-bean​​, @supraveng​​, @becausewhyknotme​​, @the-jer-bear​, @stupendoussciencenaturepanda​, @lets-do-get-help​, @straightforwardly​, @darkangeldesignstudio​
224 notes · View notes
cynicalrainbows · 4 years
Text
The next Best Thing Chapter 19
Feedback so so welcome, as ever!
‘We’re going home. Cathy, get your things.’ Catalina’s voice is tight. She isn’t smiling.
Cathy feels her tummy turn over. This, she knows, is Not Good.
Catalina waits in silence while she gathers up her book bag and coat, and the silence is much worse (probably) than it would be if Catalina was shouting. Cathy wishes she would say something, anything. She wishes she would react in some way, but she doesn’t know how she can possibly demand that.
 (How do you ASK to be told off, after all?)
Besides which, her mouth is dry. She doesn’t think it would be very easy to talk right now, even if she did know what to say.
‘Just before you go….’ Her teacher steps forward, looking uncomfortable. ‘I do need to talk to Cathy first. I’m sure you understand- it’s procedure, even when….’ She trails off.
Catalina opens her mouth as if to speak and then closes it and nods tightly. ‘Of course. I’ll wait out here.’
She trails after her teacher back inside the empty classroom, still carrying her book bag.
‘Cathy.’ Her teacher looks at her seriously. ‘I need to ask you something and it is very, very important that you tell me the absolute truth, alright?’
‘Alright.’
‘Good. Now, you won’t be in trouble, as long as you tell the truth-’ (Cathy somehow doubts that) ‘-but you do need to be honest. What happened with your dinner money really? Did your godmother refuse to give you any?’
There’s a really strong urge to nod, to lie again and hope that maybe everything will still work itself out…..but she knows she can’t. Not with Catalina right outside.
Slowly, she shakes her head. Her eyes are burning and she blinks hard.
‘What really happened?’
‘Catalina-’ She sniffs. ‘Catalina told me to get the cheque. And I forgot it.’
‘Then why on earth didn’t you say so?’ The teacher looks puzzled rather than angry and that makes it feel even worse, that really all of this could have been avoided.
‘I thought I’d get into trouble for forgetting it.’ It’s barely a whisper; a tear spills over.
Her teacher nods and hands her a tissue from the box on her desk.
‘Well, you’re in far more trouble for lying than you would have ever been for forgetting your dinner money, I hope you understand that.’
She does, and that’s the whole problem.
*
Catalina is waiting right outside the classroom door when she stumbles out, still teary-eyed, but she doesn’t say a word to Cathy, just apologises to the teacher for the misunderstanding and reassures her it won’t happen again.
‘I’m sure it won’t, Ms Trastamara. I’ll see you tomorrow Cathy.’
She mumbles a goodbye and it nearly chokes her.
They walk to the car- it feels like a VERY long walk- and Catalina STILL doesn’t say anything. It’s only when Cathy feels like she’s going to BURST with all the words that are hanging in the air and not being said that Catalina turns to her while she’s clipping in her seatbelt.
‘So. Would you like to explain to me now why you lied about me not giving you any lunch money? Or shall we wait until we get home?’
Now Cathy sort of wishes they could go back to not talking. Catalina is looking at her so coldly and it’s just so….so different to how she usually looks at her. It almost feels like Catalina is talking to a different person- she isn’t mija now, she’s another little girl who wears the same face in order to tell lies and ruin things.
She squirms a bit and looks at her lap, like she might find a really good excuse there.
‘I’m waiting Cathy. Now or later, that’s up to you, but we are going to talk about this and you ARE going to give me an answer.’
She feels about ready to burst into tears again- it’s too much after the horrible day she’s had already had, the bad dream, the wet bed and the rushed start, the anxiety over forgetting the cheque, having to sit away from Anne and Anna on the coach, the horrible tight elastic in her hair, the ugly swimming costume and everyone thinking she can’t really swim when she can, she CAN-
Thinking about it reminds her of just how much of this is actually Catalina’s fault- about how really Catalina is to blame for most, if not maybe all of her horrible day, and how unfair it is that the day is turning into Catalina being cross with her when really, she’s been spending all afternoon thinking about how she’ll get home and be able to tell Catalina about all the indignities she’s had to suffer and how none of them would have happened if Catalina had just remembered her swimming things like she’s meant to.
She’s been consoling herself all afternoon by thinking about Catalina will be very sympathetic and know exactly the right story about when-Maria-and-I-were-at-university to make her feel better (sometimes the stories are about after university, but the at-university ones are the funniest), about how she’ll give her a big hug and maybe some icecream (even though she doesn’t usually get to have icecream on weekdays) and she’ll make everything ok after all.
Like she always does.
But now nothing is being made better, things are just being made worse, and it’s SO unfair that instead of saying ‘I’m sorry’ or even trying to come up with a good excuse for her lie (like maybe saying that her teacher must have misheard her), she just scowls right back at Catalina and folds her arms.
‘Well, you DIDN’T give me any dinner money. AND you forgot my swimming things. So there.’
Catalina takes a deep long breath.
‘You know very well that is NOT what happened Cathy- I specifically asked you to pick up the cheque and you forgot. Which is ok and you’re not in trouble for that. But lying like that? Telling your teacher that I WOULDN’T give you your dinner money?’ Catalina’s voice is going up a bit and it sounds especially loud in the small car. ‘I could maybe understand if you just told her that we BOTH forgot but to deliberately lie and say that I WOULDN’T give it to you? What on earth were you thinking?!’
‘But you DIDN’T give it to me!’ She doesn’t quite no why she’s arguing, except that she can’t bear the way the word ‘lie’ keeps on being used in reference to HER. She ISN’T a liar- it’s such an inescapably horrid word- and she so wants to find a loophole, a reason, an excuse so that she can push it away rather than having it stick to her.
Somehow though, it doesn’t sound as much like the excellent response it was in her head- Catalina just looks even angrier.
‘That is NOT the point and you know it!  You made it sound like I was…..withholding food from you on purpose! Do you have ANY idea how serious that is?’
She doesn’t quite dare to argue but she also can’t bring herself to say anything that sounds like agreement so she just huffs a bit and crosses her arms tighter.
‘She thought I was PUNISHING you! YOU told her that I was STARVING you!’ 
‘Well, YOU should have remembered it! YOU should have put it in my bag, like Mum always did!’ 
It’s when she mentions her Mum that Catalina’s shoulders suddenly sink and she sighs again, as if the fight is going out of her. ‘I have tried- I try so hard to be a good….a good mother, a good parent, I try every day, every second- do you understand that? There isn’t a moment when I’m not worrying now and then for you to go and-’
She sounds sad, so sad, and there’s a little bit of Cathy that feels guilty, so guilty that even crying isn’t enough because really, she never actually thought that Catalina would get in trouble over anything she said, she really didn’t, because it’s not like her teacher can tell of Catalina, is it? Except now she’s wondering if perhaps she DID tell her off, but in a grown up way that sounds much worse….
But that little part of her is only there for a moment before it gets taken over the angry roaring in her head because Catalina called herself her MOTHER, and just hearing her say it even once feels like Catalina is stamping all over her memory of Mum, squashing it down flat and squeezing it out-
‘You’re NOT my Mum! You’re not anything LIKE Mum!’ Now she’s shouting too- she can’t help it, she just knows she has to shout loud enough to drown out any idea that Catalina could replace her Mum ever ever ever. ‘Mum wouldn’t forget my dinner money! Mum wouldn’t forget my swimming things like you did!’
‘I KNOW!’ Catalina’s shout is so loud that it fills up the whole car, and Cathy actually jumps in her seat because she’s never heard Catalina be so loud before. ‘I KNOW I’m not your mother but I am TRYING my BEST-’
‘I DON’T CARE!’
‘Oh I can tell that!’ Catalina gives a very bitter not-nice laugh, that doesn’t sound at all like her. ‘I know you don’t care but I AM trying, so hard and honestly, right now I’m wondering WHY I bother at all when you-’
‘You didn’t bother to remember swimming!’
 ‘Will you just forget about your swimming things!’ Catalina suddenly yells. ‘They are NOT the point! The point is you LYING to try and get me into trouble!’
‘But they made me be in the baby beginning group!’
(She doesn’t see why Catalina cannot understand this is a Big Problem.)
‘For god's sake, I don’t CARE about your swimming lesson! I-’  Catalina is breathing hard and then she hits one hand on the steering wheel. ‘You know what, I can’t even talk to you about this any more. I’m-’
 She gives a quick, angry shake of the head and then puts the car in gear and pulls out of the parking space so quickly it’s as if she’s trying to run someone over.
Cathy turns her head to stare out of the window with hot, angry eyes. She doesn’t want to look at Catalina any more than she has to- she doesn’t even want to be in the same CAR as her, and she can’t tell if it’s because she’s scared or if she’s angry, and the mixed-up feeling is nearly as bad as everything else put together because it’s so confusing.
They drive in silence and when they get back to the flat, she half wonders if Catalina is going to start shouting again….but instead, she just tells Cathy to go to her room in an odd, flat, tight voice and before the words are even out, she’s walking to the cupboard where she keeps her wine and pulling the door open so fiercely it’s like it almost comes off its hinges.
(The wine cupboard makes her feel sad to look at- not because it IS sad but because it’s just above the identical lower cupboard that’s her cupboard and THAT makes her think about how exciting it was when Catalina cleared it for her and they made the agreement that Cathy would leave Catalina’s wine cupboard very much alone and that in return Catalina would leave Cathy’s special cupboard alone too. 
And even though her cupboard isn’t quite the same as Catalina’s cupboard- because it has  a bottle of Ribena in it rather than wine- it’s still nearly as good because as well as the Ribena, she has a fancy glass that’s just like one of Catalina’s wine glasses (even though it’s made from plastic, it still looks real) and a little jar of chocolate buttons (which are much nicer than the boring nuts Catalina keeps in her cupboard for herself). 
Looking at it makes her sad because she knows that this argument won’t be settled as easily as the one that precipitated her getting her cupboard….and really, that’s because they HAVEN’T had an argument like this before, not EVER.
Actually, she thinks what she’s seeing is Catalina Properly Cross.)
It makes her sad to think of the cupboard because now she’s finding it very hard to imagine them having nice happy times like that together ever, ever again.
And that’s a VERY scary thought.
Cathy stamps her way to her room, like if she stamps hard enough, she’ll stamp out the scared feeling and just have her own crossness (which is easier to feel), and rather than just closing her door, she slams it as hard as she can.
It makes a VERY satisfyingly loud noise, nearly loud enough to sum up how bad everything feels, so she pulls it open and does it again even though she knows she’s being VERY naughty and it will definitely make Catalina even crosser.
It’s odd- she can’t quite explain it, but it’s like there’s a part of herself that WANTS to make Catalina even crosser, just so that she’ll come to Cathy’s room (she’d rather have cross Catalina than no Catalina at all, because Cross Catalina is just Cross but no Catalina is horribly, horribly lonely.)
At least even if she’s being shouted at, she’s also being acknowledged and that might help get rid of the new feeling that’s starting to take hold of her- that maybe she’s SO bad Catalina can’t even look at her or be near her and that’s the worst thing ever and if slamming her door will bring Catalina back then that’s FINE-
Except it REALLY isn’t fine, because while it DOES bring Catalina back, it doesn’t help because it’s an even more shouty, cross Catalina, telling her very loudly that if she doesn’t Get Back Into Her Room Right This Instant and Leave The Bloody Door ALONE RIGHT NOW she will SERIOUSLY regret it-
And then Catalina is pulling her door shut nearly as hard as she was slamming it, which is just yet another thing which isn’t fair at all, and she’s left all by herself.
She wants to hide under the covers and pretend that everything is really just a horrible dream- but she can’t even do THAT because of course her bed is all stripped, with just a bare mattress after this morning so there’s no comfort to be had anywhere.
 Even Tarkar is gone, and she realises he must have ended up in the washing machine with her sheets and pajamas by mistake and what if being in the washing machine HURTS him or RUINS him entirely?
It’s just one more horrible thing in a long, long list of horrible things, so much so that she can’t summon up the energy to do anything at all but cry and cry.
**
Hours and hours later, she’s curled up in a sad, snuffly ball on the carpet when Catalina knocks on her door again.
‘Cathy. It’s time for dinner.’
She sounds a lot less angry but still, not at all like herself.
She’s trying to decide what to do- get up and go and eat dinner like normal? Or say no- because really, she doesn’t feel hungry at all? Or just say nothing and wait for Catalina to go away?
She’s still trying to decide when Catalina pushes the door open.
She doesn't look quite so angry now- more just very, very tired and sad, and for a second it actually looks like her own eyes are the tiniest bit swollen, but only for a second, and of course it must be a trick of the light anyway.
 She sighs when she sees Cathy on the floor, and holds out a hand to pull her to her feet.
‘Up you get mija.’
She stands, wobbly on her feet, sore and uncomfortable and not sure what to do or say, and Catalina shakes her head.
‘Come and eat.’ She wonders for a hopeful moment if that means everything is going to be forgotten about (although she also doesn’t feel like she could quite go back to normal after everything, even if Catalina can) but then Catalina says that they’ll talk more about everything tomorrow.
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t have the energy to talk about it calmly tonight and I don’t think you do either and I think the best thing would be just for us to leave it until we're both in a better state of mind.’
She isn’t sure if she likes that idea or not but she doesn’t argue. (She can't imagine she’ll feel anything other than worse tomorrow.)
Catalina walks out of her bedroom without looking back, like of course Cathy is going to follow her….and of course she does, making sure to close her bedroom door quietly this time.
Catalina gives her a plate of lasagna and asks if she’d like juice or milk as normal, but it doesn’t feel normal. The wrongness creeps all over her and makes her fidget in her chair. She rubs surreptitiously up and down one of her arms when Catalina isn’t looking but it doesn’t help much.
They eat.
They don’t talk. 
A couple of times Catalina opens her mouth like she’s going to say something and then closes it again and takes another bite of lasagna instead.
When they’re finished, they clear the table in near-silence. Catalina thanks her whenever Cathy passes her anything but that’s all. She doesn’t ask for Cathy’s help washing up, and she doesn’t turn on the radio while she cleans up the kitchen on her own either.
(It’s funny, that helping with the washing up is normally a chore she’s anxious to avoid. But now, she thinks she’d give anything to have Catalina making her help like normal, telling her that this all counts as Practise For Being A Grown Up and humming along to the music.)
When she’s finished, Catalina tells her that they’re going to make her bed again and that then she’s going to get ready for bed herself and although it’s not Cathy’s bedtime yet, she doesn’t argue.
It feels a bit like she’s being tidied away, like an inconvenient bit of mess left out that you just want to clear up and forget about for a while….but on the other hand, the sooner she goes to bed, the sooner she can wake up and have everything be normal again.
(After all, Catalina always tells her that things will be better in the morning, so maybe they really will be.)
*
They put on the fresh sheets and she gets new pajamas from her drawers (even if they’re not her nice otter ones) but Tarkar is still wet through from his whirl in the washing machine- Catalina has pegged him up to drip over the bath to dry out overnight.
When Cathy ventures to ask if he can’t go in the dryer instead, like the rest of the laundry, Catalina shakes her head and says no.
She doesn’t press it- she realises it’s probably a punishment for everything- but still. The thought of sleeping without Tarkar after the day she’s had isn’t nice at all, and she’s sure Tarkar won’t sleep well with his paws trapped in tight wooden pegs and his head the wrong way up.
(Even upside down, his expression looks a bit forlorn and sad and lost. He sort of looks how Cathy feels, to be honest.)
Getting into bed by herself feels very lonely, and even Catalina’s unexpected goodnight kiss doesn’t help.
‘Do you want me to get one of your other toys just for tonight, mija?’
She shakes her head, it isn’t the same.
‘No thank you.’
‘Alright. Ready for another chapter?’
She shakes her head. She doesn’t really care about the March sisters now.
‘Ok.’ Catalina tucks the covers around her and starts to leave, and then pauses in the doorway.
‘Mija?’
She looks up, and Catalina hovers for a second and then comes all the way back into the room to sit on the edge of the bed.
‘It’s….not been a good day. For either of us. I think we both said some things we didn’t mean. But we’ll work it out. Ok?’
‘....Ok.’
She doesn’t know if she believes her but it’s sort of nice to hear anyway, even if Catalina is lying. (It means she isn’t too angry with Cathy to want to make her feel better.)
‘I know I was angry. But it’s only because I love you and-’ She hesitates. ‘Oh, it’s too hard to explain, but I hope you’ll understand one day.’
She isn’t sure how to respond exactly.
‘Are you still angry that I lied?’
‘Yes. But it’s ok. It will be ok.’
(She doesn’t explain why it’s ok though. And she sort of sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.)
She gives Cathy’s shoulder a little pat and goes out of the room, turning off the big light and closing the door.
Cathy lies in the dark and thinks- about how long and confusing the day has been, about how frustrating it is that all she can keep thinking about is whether or not Catalina really IS still angry with her when really, that isn’t fair at all.
Because she IS still cross about her swimming things, even if Catalina doesn’t seem to care at all about it, and how is it fair that her being angry has been just brushed off and forgotten about when Catalina being cross has taken over everything?
(It’s just like grown ups, to make everything about THEIR feelings.)
On the other hand, another part of her just wants it all to over and forgotten about- she wants to be able to feel normal again, for the scared mixed up feeling in her stomach to go away. 
(She wants Tarkar back too.)
It DOES help- a bit- that Catalina has said that things will be ok, because Catalina does usually know what she’s talking about, but not really enough that she can fall asleep, and after what feels like years and years and years of lying in the dark, she decides that she’s going to go and make Catalina explain the everything-being-ok theory in a bit more detail.
Maybe if she can hear it for herself, she’ll understand it and it will make her feel better, and sometimes Catalina lets her sit in her lap while she explains things which would also be nice, even if things do still feel all strange and uncomfortable.
She pads down the hall- Catalina’s room is dark but light shows under the living room door. She’s about to push it open when she stops- it sounds like Catalina is talking on the telephone, and that’s strange because who would Catalina be calling at this hour?
‘....just so stressed…..too hard….’ Catalina sounds exhausted, her voice a bit blurry and muffly and funny sounding. At one point, she breaks off and Cathy hears her gulping like there’s something stuck in her throat. ‘....tomorrow…...hate to ask…..just want her out of the flat as soon as possible, to be honest-’
Cathy feels like she’s had a bucket of icy water tipped over her- it’s worse than jumping into the pool: she can’t breathe or move or think.
‘....thought it would make it easier….no one else…..the quicker she’s gone the better-’ 
She feels sick- for a minute, she thinks she actually might throw up right there in the hall.
There’s a little half laugh. ‘......Really, I didn’t want her to come at all in the first place but you know how it is, you can’t say no-’
She can’t bear to hear any more.
She tiptoes numbly back down the hall to her own room and gets under the covers, shaking and sick.
It’s exactly what she’s been scared of so, so many times in the worst moments….and now it’s actually happening, she can’t scream or shout or cry or do anything at all.
Catalina’s getting rid of her and that’s that.
29 notes · View notes