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quicksilversquared · 7 years ago

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How to Fake a Marriage: chapter 9

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(AO3) (FF.net)

As it turned out, the dresses weren't the only things that the tabloids noticed. There were more than a few pictures of Adrien and Marinette at Fashion Week popping up in the racks in the grocery check-out lines. Some were taken out of context- seemingly intimate photos of Marinette standing close to Adrien and adjusting his lapels before he went on the runway, him giving her encouraging pats on the shoulder, both of them ducking into the changing rooms. The headlines made him blush- Model gets cozy with intern and Romance behind the scenes at London Fashion Week? and Agreste heir finds love?. When Adrien worked up the courage to flip to the article while they waited in line at the grocery check-out, he could tell that more than a little attention had been paid to the fact that he was a last-minute sub in the show. There was a lot of speculation about why the other model had been replaced by him, and most of it involved claims that his father had disowned him (insert photo of his father looking angry; Adrien suspected that they hadn't had to look particularly hard for that kind of picture), so he needed money for his "rebellious" dash to freedom in a physics program in London and his "girlfriend" had set him up with a modelling contract so he could pay for a lifestyle that would no doubt continue spiraling downwards with more rebellious acts such as drinking, smoking, and partying hard.

Yeah, it was a bit of a stretch, especially when they could have done a bit of research and found that the other model was still laid up with a broken leg.

"Oh, there's the wedding photoshoot pictures," Marinette said as they cooked dinner together that evening, and Adrien looked up to see Marinette looking through another magazine. Her colleagues (and Madam Rosalie) had found and bought pretty much every tabloid that had mentioned them and had come stampeding over earlier that afternoon to offload them on Marinette. According to her, they had been grinning deviously when they presented the giant pile to her. "This one's claiming we secretly eloped and used the photoshoot as a cover so your father wouldn't find out."

Adrien snorted and paged through his own magazine. rolling his eyes at the ridiculous jumps in logic that the writers were making. He could see how writers might have thought that he was dating someone if he showed up with a girl on his arm out of the blue, but Marinette had been his friend for forever. It was hardly strange for him to hang out with a friend.

As expected, Adrien got called by his father later that night. Gabriel wasn't furious, which made Adrien guess that Nathalie had already done some damage control (he owed her, like, a dozen boxes of gourmet chocolates), but he wasn't happy that Adrien had ended up in one tabloid, never mind nearly a dozen.

"Like I told you before, the previous model was injured and I just happened to be the right size and walk into the building about ten minutes after they got the call that he wouldn't be able to make it," Adrien explained. "So that's why they didn't call the agency up. And of course I couldn't say no, Madam Rosalie is a friend of yours and mom's, and Marinette is my friend. I couldn't just leave them hanging."

"Yes, yes, I know that," Gabriel said impatiently. Adrien could hear the sound of his father's fingers tapping impatiently on his desk on the other end of the line. "The pre-runway show photos I can understand easily enough. But then they have pictures of you and the girl attached at the hip during the rest of Fashion Week. Arriving together, walking around to presentations together, sitting together during runway shows-"

"It is customary for people to spend time together when they're friends," Adrien said dryly, trying to not let too much sarcasm slip into his voice. "I don't really know people there, and Marinette couldn't really track down her coworkers in the crowd. Besides, we enjoy hanging out with each other."

Gabriel snorted. "They have photos of you wrapping your suit jacket around Marinette and then practically hanging all over her. And kissing her, no less."

"On the cheek," Adrien clarified helpfully. He frowned slightly- he hadn't spotted that photo. It must have been in one of the magazines that he hadn't looked through yet.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"The show area was a bit on the chilly side Thursday morning," Adrien explained, figuring that this was no time to joke around. Of course, with his father, there was really never a good time to joke around. "Marinette was shivering and the button-up I was wearing under my suit jacket was on the heavy side, so I gave her the jacket. And then I was a little cold, so cuddling was an obvious choice."

There was a long, exasperated sigh on his father's end of the line. "And the kiss?"

"We're French. Cheek kisses are a thing that exists." He and Marinette had been messing around, teasing each other before the runway show started. Marinette had been pretending to complain about Adrien hanging all over her and so he had nuzzled her neck in retaliation before pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek. She had only laughed more and pushed him away with a finger on his nose. It had been fun at the time, being able to tease each other freely like he often did with Ladybug when he was Chat Noir, but maybe Adrien should have known that there would be photographers nearby who weren't only interested in the clothes.

It was a pain being semi-famous, really. There had been a duo straight-up making out before one of the shows a few rows behind them and they hadn't had their pictures splashed all over the tabloids, yet a little cuddling on Adrien's part and suddenly it was some kind of Big Deal.

Gabriel let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You know that's not the way the tabloids saw it. You aren't a child anymore; you need to consider how others might interpret your actions. I suppose there's no real way to prevent the tabloids from twisting things, but do at least try to keep from doing anything that would give them real ammunition."

Adrien was sorely tempted to say "aww, so I'm not allowed to spiral into a life of drinking, smoking, and partying hard?" but he suspected that his father probably wouldn't be particularly amused.

"Of course," Adrien said instead.

"You may get approached by gossip 'reporters' because of these pieces." The disdain in Gabriel's voice was clear. "Nathalie is sending you a list of ones that won't twist your words quite as much as others will. You only need to talk with one to get things straightened out."

Personally, Adrien didn't particularly care if things got straightened out. It wasn't as though the tabloids were trying to say hurtful things about him- Marinette was his friend, after all, and anyone would be lucky to date her- and it wasn't as thought their words actually affected his life. Still, it was probably better just to do what his father wanted. If his father wanted him to give the tabloids the real story and explain that he and Marinette were just friends, then that was what he would do. They could save the snuggling for movie nights in their apartment when they didn't have other people over.

(Plagg would still tease him about it, but it was better than getting a lecture from his father.)

"Is he angry?" Marinette asked as the call ended and Adrien set his phone down with a sigh. She wandered back into the living room and flopped down to join him on the couch. "The articles weren't your fault."

"He's not happy, that's for sure," Adrien said with a grimace. "He said that he understood the pictures that were during the run-up to Madam Rosalie's runway show, but all of the ones during the rest of Fashion Week..."

"But those were just of us sitting together, right? That's normal friend stuff."

"They got pictures of me giving you my jacket." A pause. "And pictures from when we were messing around and I was hanging all over you."

Marinette groaned at that.

"But I don't know why they're making such a big deal out of it," Adrien said, frowning. "Friends hang out. Friends hug each other." He caught Marinette making a slight face and he frowned. "Don't they?"

"The hugging...it depends, really," Marinette said slowly. "I mean, Alya and I hug each other all the time. Some people don't."

"Is it weird?"

"To some people it is," Marinette admitted, shrugging. "Some people aren't very touchy. You're very touchy."

Adrien frowned in confusion and tugged Marinette over so she would be sitting right next to him on the couch, practically curled up against his side. "Touchy? Like, oversensitive? What does that have to do with the photos?"

"No, no, not touchy like oversensitive. Handsy would be a better word, I guess. You like having your hands on people."

"No I don't," Adrien argued, draping his arm over Marinette's shoulders to tug her even closer and arrange her against his side. "My parents raised me to be a perfect gentleman. I keep my hands to myself."

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. Adrien raised his eyebrows right back until Marinette glanced down at his arm, still hanging over her shoulder. He blinked, then groaned, pulling his arm away. Marinette laughed and pulled it right back before he could go too far.

"I don't mind, really," Marinette said as she settled his arm back into place. "It's nice. But did you seriously not realize that you do that all the time?"

"Do I really?" Adrien asked, completely dismayed. He hadn't even noticed. "Shoot, I didn't mean to get up in strangers' personal bubbles-"

"Oh, you don't do it to strangers," Marinette assured him hastily, patting his hand reassuringly. "Like, maybe there's the occasional shoulder touch with people you kind of know, but it's not like you go around cuddling random people on the bus all the time."

"You don't know that I don't," Adrien teased, relieved that she wasn't bothered by it. "I take the bus to and from school every day by myself. You don't know what I might do during those rides."

"You guzzle down something with caffeine on the way to your classes and review your notes on the way home," Marinette said, grinning as she poked his side, making him squirm. "Don't tell me you don't."

That was actually...surprisingly accurate. He didn't review his notes on the bus, but he did try to take a chunk out of his assigned readings while heading back after his classes were over. He had had conversations with people on the bus a couple times, mostly when there were fellow classmates he recognized on the same bus or when someone talked to him first, but for the most part he kept to himself or tried to hold a hushed conversation with Plagg.

"Have you been spying on me?" Adrien teased, giving Marinette's shoulders another little tug. "Because that's what it sounds like to me."

"No, you're just predictable."

"Oh, shush. I am not." At least, he was pretty sure that he wasn't. A thought struck him, and he grimaced. "I bet the people at school won't think so, not after all the tabloids. So much for people not knowing who I am here."

Paul was smirking when Adrien walked into his second class of the day on Monday and Adrien found himself repressing a groan.

"You look like that cat that ate the canary," Adrien informed him as he set his bag down on the desk. "Stop smirking, it's disturbing."

"I don't know if I can," Paul said smugly. "You see, I was grocery shopping this weekend and happened upon this most interesting magazine."

Yeah, Adrien could definitely see where this was going. Fabulous.

With a grin, Paul brought out one of the tabloid magazines that had gotten Adrien in trouble. "See, I didn't hear that you were going to be doing Fashion Week! Someone kept that a secret- well, until his face was plastered to every magazine at the end of the grocery lane. My sister was heartbroken to hear that you were apparently already married."

"Oh, is that the story that they're trying to sell with that one?" He vaguely remembered seeing something along those lines in the magazines he and Marinette had gotten. He had stopped paying attention after the first few. Plagg could probably recite the articles of by heart; the small god had been delighted by the pile of magazines that Marinette's coworkers had brought over and once Marinette was gone, he had settled in to read every last one of them. Adrien wouldn't be surprised if Plagg started quoting bits of the articles soon, just to be annoying.

Paul laughed, flipping through the pages of the magazine. "That's what it seems like. You have to admit, it does seem a little suspicious, with those wedding pictures. Even I could tell that there was something different with that photoshoot."

"If you say so." Adrien certainly didn't see it; after all, the photos had turned out lovely and everyone ended up looking very natural. Sure, it had a variety of body types, but Adrien was fairly sure that that was on-trend right now. Besides, they chose the interns that they did based on who fit the dressed Madam Rosalie had on hand. They had been planning to have variety in the photoshoot anyway.

Besides, the runway switch-out that that the tabloids were currently throwing such a fit over? Things happened to models all the time and replacements were hardly uncommon. Designers normally had a little more warning when a switch was needed, but the switches themselves weren't that unusual. His father usually had at least one model switch per runway show, usually two or three. Considering that that was higher than the industry average, Adrien suspected that the high turnover rate of their models probably had something to do with his father's demanding personality and harsh criticisms.

"You know, I've never really been one to read gossip magazines before, but if you showing up in them is gonna be a regular occurrence I might just have to do it more often." Paul smirked at the look on Adrien's face. "What? I'm just saying. This is absolutely hilarious, and the others are just as good."

"Please don't tell me that you decided to actually buy more than one of those magazines."

"My younger sister bought them," Paul said cheerfully, pulling out another magazine and waving it at Adrien. "Well, she and her friends. And then my mother confiscated them because she said they were trash rags, and then I got them from her for teasing purposes."

"Marinette's coworkers practically buried her under all of the magazines and articles they could find about us," Adrien admitted. From what he had heard by text from Marinette this morning, it sounded like her coworkers were trying to make a scrapbook with every tabloid article and picture in it. It would be funny if it weren't so embarrassing. "And then the daily paper apparently had a section devoted to daily sightings of celebrities and for some reason they included Marinette and I-"

"And did a daily update on you two being spotted together, I know," Paul said, still snickering. "I was going to text you and ask if you knew about it, but then I figured that the two of you would probably get all stiff and weird around each other if you knew people were watching you. And then it wouldn't have been quite as amusing."

"Thank you, you're so considerate," Adrien said dryly. Paul was right- he would have probably tried to put a little more space between himself and Marinette and he definitely wouldn't have done the snuggling and the kiss on the cheek had he known that people were apparently watching them- and while it wouldn't have been as fun, it would make trying to explain things during any interviews easier. As things stood, any interviewers would probably think that he was trying to hide a secret relationship because of the faux-wrestling and cheek kiss.

"I think I would get along with Marinette's coworkers," Paul decided as he tucked the magazines away. "If they're teasing the two of you, they're good in my books. Are they putting together a CD or anything of all of the times they showed the two of you together on TV?"

Adrien froze. All the times they showed him and Marinette on TV? "What?"

"I mean, mostly it was short clips of the two of you milling around looking at things or sitting waiting for the runway shows to start, but-"

"Did they have clips of us watching the runway?" If they did, that could be bad. Adrien had had his arm thrown around Marinette's shoulders for more than a couple shows, and then if they had any clips of him watching Marinette as she watched the runway...

Yeah, those looks could definitely be misinterpreted.

"No, they were a little more focused on the clothes, oddly enough," Paul drawled a bit sarcastically. "And from what I could tell, it was perhaps a little too dark in the rest of the room to be bothering with trying to record people's expressions. Why, were you up to something?"

"No, no, dark lighting can just make things look more intimate than they actually are," Adrien said hastily before Paul could get any ideas. "And the press likes making big deals out of shadows and claiming that there's a hand where there's actually a wrinkle in a jacket or something."

"If you say so." Paul shrugged and changed the subject. "So are you ready for the rest of the semester? I don't know about you, but I have projects for all of my classes and I'm not looking forward to trying to juggle all of them and studying and, y'know, having a social life."

"I don't think it'll be that bad," Adrien said with a small grin. "I've been looking at the write-ups for some of those projects and there's a couple that are pretty short. As long as I don't leave them all until last minute, I think they'll be fine." He had had to deal with projects before for his business major, and they only ever caused problems if he left them off until last minute, got too panicked about them, or- rue the day- if he got stuck in a group project. He was already halfway done with two term-long projects.

He could get anything done and still have time for weekend excursions as long as he had good time management. It was something he had had drilled into him throughout his life (and then driven completely home when he had to try to get all of his planned activities plus fighting akumas plus homework done) and thankfully he hadn't let himself slide at all once he headed off to university. From what he could tell, more than a few of his classmates had trouble with the concept, even including Paul at times. They spent too much time partying or procrastinating and then had to stay up late to get their studying done. Adrien preferred to try to get things done- or at least mostly completed- before going off to do other things.

"I started working on two projects over the break," Paul said. "So, y'know, it really wasn't much of a break. But I guess it really wasn't much of a break for you either, right? Because you were working?"

"Only on one- okay, two- days," Adrien pointed out. "And it was interesting to see some of the fashions going on right now."

"And now you have to deal with the fallout from being there. How soon d'you think the reporters are going to start to swarm? I'm surprised they didn't pounce on you while you were still at Fashion Week."

"Oh, I'm sure they'll turn up soon." Adrien glanced at the window. He was about 90% percent certain that he would run into at least a handful after class was over, hounding him as he tried to head to his class in another building. "Honestly, it's just a matter of time."

Adrien stepped out of the building to see a whole horde of reporters from various tabloids and gossip shows waiting for him right outside the door.

Great.

There was a general cry as they spotted Adrien, and he abandoned his momentary panicked idea of jumping over the side of the stairs and making a desperate break for it. He had faced the press before as himself just fine (and as Chat Noir numerous other times), and just because he didn't have Nathalie at his side this time didn't mean he couldn't do it. He didn't have to answer any questions now, which put him more at ease.

The ball was in his court. He didn't have to tell them anything and they knew that, and they knew that he knew that. As long as he didn't show his nerves, he could handle this.

"Adrien! Can you comment of your relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Mr. Agreste! Is it true that you and your girlfriend left Paris because your father didn't approve of your relationship?"

"Mr. Agreste-"

"I am not taking questions right now," Adrien said, cutting them off before they could really get going and attract any more attention than they already were. His voice carried easily enough over the clamor of the reporters, much to his surprise, and it also sounded disturbing similar to his father's. He let his eyes scan over the crowd, trying to figure out who exactly was there. He had spent an hour the previous night reviewing the lists Nathalie had sent so he could identify which reporters he should and should not talk to. It hadn't been enjoyable, but it had (rather unfortunately) been necessary. Unlike in Paris, where he knew all of the reporters on sight, Adrien wasn't familiar with the British tabloids at all.

"But Mr. Agreste-"

"I'll talk to one person," Adrien said firmly. "And not now. I have classes I need to be in right now."

The reporters didn't look particularly happy. One- someone who Adrien recognized from Nathalie's 'do-not-talk-to-under-any-circumstances' list- was more vocal than the others. "But this is important! Other things can wait-"

"I beg to differ," Adrien shot right back, letting his tone grow frosty. "My education is far more important than providing gossip to a bunch of tabloid reporters about my friend and I. Now if you'll excuse me, I have places to be and so do the other students."

With that, he strode forward briskly, sending reporters scattering as he did. Adrien kept a carefully neutral expression on his face- if he looked annoyed, the reporters (if he could even call them that) would no doubt interpret it as annoyance that his so-called "top-secret relationship" had been discovered. As he passed the last reporter in the group, he paused and turned halfway, making eye contact with the one reporter that had shown up that Nathalie had approved of.

"Madam Addison, I'll speak with you later. The rest of you needn't stick around."

And then he was gone.

As soon as he was settled in his next class, Adrien pulled out his phone to text Marinette. She had already said that she wasn't going to speak with reporters- and Adrien believed her, she was definitely strong enough to not crack under the pressure of dozens of reporters crowding around and throwing questions at her- but it wouldn't hurt to give her a heads-up. If she wanted to go out for lunch, she might find herself surrounded by pesky tabloid reporters.

"You did good," Plagg commented as Adrien sent his message. "Did you learn that from your father?"

"From Father and Nathalie," Adrien admitted, keeping his voice hushed. He could tell that there were more eyes on him than normal, so he had to be extra-careful. "And you know that Ladybug and I had to deal with the press all the time before we defeated Hawkmoth."

"They didn't bug you about your personal relationships, though."

"They did, actually. They asked if we were dating. And when we said no, they asked if we were dating other people. And somehow they thought that they would get a different answer if they asked a dozen times a year." Actually, it was more like five dozen times a year by the time they defeated Hawkmoth. He could have understood it if it was all different people asking- both reporters and kids, for example- but the question came from the same small handful of reporters nearly every time.

Thankfully Alya had only asked once and then let it be. Adrien suspected that she had noticed the looks of irritation on both Ladybug's and Chat Noir's faces when they got the question from others and decided that there was no point in probing them further. After all, she already got the scoops and seemed to be on Ladybug's good side when it came to getting interviews. There was no point in risking driving the superhero duo away by irritating them with probing questions about their love life or lack thereof.

Adrien's phone buzzed quietly and he checked it. Apparently Madam Rosalie had already chased away several reporters that were poking around, and Marinette had brought her own lunch in anticipation of the problem so she wouldn't have to go outside until the end of the day. There still might be an issue of particularly persistent reporters hanging around to pester her on her way back to her flat- and good lord, they were probably going to make a bigger deal out of the fact that Adrien and Marinette were neighbors than it really was- and if he went to escort her for the few blocks between the Rosalie's Fashion building and their building so that she wouldn't be making the walk alone and followed by harassing reporters, they would make a huge deal out of that as well.

Perhaps she could walk home with several of her co-workers, since several others lived in the same building. They could keep the reporters from crowding in too much. Adrien texted the suggestion to Marinette and then put his phone away before anyone decided to make a big deal out of him texting Marinette and then go trotting to the press to get their two seconds of fame.

He didn't want to think badly of any of his classmates, really, but he just didn't know all of them well enough to be positive that they wouldn't do such a thing. Besides, tabloid reporters sometimes offered money for information and, well, uni students and money...

As he waited for class to start, Adrien mentally reviewed what he was going to say in his interview. It wasn't as though he was trying to come up with some sort of cover story that he would have to keep straight or anything, it was just that he knew that it could be overwhelming to have to answer questions under pressure and have his answers come out in ways that couldn't be misconstrued, especially since he would be doing the interview in English, not French. If he knew what he was going to say in advance, there was less of a chance that he would be left fumbling for the right words to answer a question.

Even if the woman he was going to be talking to was one of the more reasonable reporters in the gossip business, Adrien wasn't particularly inclined to trust them not to blow things out of proportion if given the chance.

Class went too fast, and then he was leaving again. There would doubtless be more than just the one reporter waiting outside- they would be looking for reactions to their questions, even if he didn't actually answer anything verbally. It was annoying- really annoying- but at least he was prepared for it.

Well. Somewhat, at least. He hoped.

Half an hour later, Adrien had managed to dodge the questions from the still-lingering reporters and was on his way to Madam Addison's studio in her car. The woman was clearly thrilled to be granted the exclusive interview, but she was doing her best to remain in check. For his part, Adrien was trying to keep the nerves from showing.

Yes, it had been a good idea to get the whole circus off campus. If he wanted the whole thing to blow over, he had to keep the visible fuss to a minimum. Magazines on a rack could be ignored; a horde of reporters obstructing the doorway to the academic buildings could not. Still, they were definitely moving onto Madam Addison's ground now, and he couldn't just walk away from her questions like he had with the other reporters.

"We've arrived!" the driver announced as they pulled up to a building, and Madam Addison sprung out, waving Adrien out as well. She steered him into the news building and up the stairs, past staring workers and whispering interns. They ended up in Madam Addison's office, where she settled in her chair behind her desk and gestured for Adrien to sit in the chair opposite of her desk. The cameraman- well, camera lady- sat in another chair and turned her camera on.

"So, Adrien," Madam Addison started. "All through last week, you were spotted looking cozy with an intern from Rosalie Fashions during Fashion Week. It raised a lot of questions, but let's begin with the start of last week. You ended up replacing a Rosalie model very last minute."

"I did. I went into Rosalie Fashions on Friday around noon and found out that they had just gotten word that one of their male models had been in a car accident and would be unable to walk the runway. Since I've had experience walking the runway and was pretty much the same size, it was an obvious choice for me to step into his place."

Madam Addison's eyebrows rose. "And you just happened to be going to Rosalie Fashions... why? To visit a special friend, perhaps? A girlfriend?"

"To visit a friend," Adrien corrected. "Marinette gets very focused and forgets to eat sometimes, especially during crunch times such as the lead-up to Fashion Week, so I went to bring her lunch."

"That is a very boyfriend-like move, many would say."

Adrien shrugged. He wasn't going to get defensive, because he knew how that could be- would be- read. "Perhaps to some people. I'd do the same thing for my other friends if they were stressed and I had time to visit...and if we were in the same country," Adrien added. He knew full well that without the qualifier, he would have people trying to tail him to see if he actually visited anyone else with lunch, never mind that it should be obvious that the majority of his friends would be back in Paris.

"If you say so." Madam Addison glanced down at her notepad. "So that explains why you replaced a model last-minute, but then you were spotted throughout the week together."

"Marinette and I are friends," Adrien pointed out again. "We've known each other since collège. And friends, y'know, customarily hang out with each other. I had the week off, so I decided to spend it with Marinette instead of just hanging out alone in my apartment."

"But surely you've seen enough fashion shows in your life, for someone who isn't interested in fashion?"

"I'm interested in fashion," Adrien corrected again. He wasn't quite sure where this perception had come from that he wasn't interested in fashion. Maybe he wasn't crazy gung-ho about it, but it wasn't as though it bored him all the time. "I'm not one for designing, but I do enjoy looking at the finished product." A stretch, maybe- he could get tired of looking at the finished products, especially when they were old, rehashed ideas or just a little too weird- but it was close enough that the little white lie could slide.

Madam Addison was looking as though the interview was perhaps not going quite the way she had hoped, but she pressed on. "So you claim that there isn't anything of a romantic nature going on between you and Marinette, and yet we have photos of you throughout the week acting very much like a boyfriend...or something more." She pulled a stack of photos out from an envelope and spread them in front of Adrien. He leaned forward, interested, and then had to quench the urge to roll his eyes because really? They were really going to make a big deal about him filling Marinette's water bottle and getting a wrap for her to eat?

They were reaching, but then again, when were they not? There wouldn't be any news for the tabloids to sell if they didn't make up some of their own.

"Running errands, practically being plastered to her side throughout the week, giving her your suit jacket, cuddling, and-" she pulled out her last photo. "- a kiss."

"On the cheek," Adrien pointed out immediately. "We're French. It's a thing."

"I was rather under the impression that cheek kisses were for hellos and goodbyes, not while waiting for fashion shows to start."

Adrien mentally swore. He should have known that the reporter wouldn't let that slip past her that easily. But he could play that game too. He lounged comfortably in his chair, looking as comfortable and un-ruffled as could be. Sometimes model training came in handy. "I wasn't aware that cheek kisses came with rules."

Madam Addison laughed at that before turning her attention back to the photos. "Fine, then. A friendly cheek kiss. And what about these other pictures, then?"

"Workers really don't have the time to step away and get things to eat or drink before or when the runway show they're involved with is going," Adrien said, pushing the first two photos to the side. "Or directly after the show finishes, for that matter, because they have to clean up their backstage space and move out in time for the next designer to set up. So I decided to be helpful and run a few errands so that Marinette wouldn't get dehydrated or hungry." He moved to the next few photos. "And there's so many people at Fashion Week that if you go there with someone and don't stick to their side, you'll lose them pretty fast."

"You really do have an explanation for everything," Madam Addison said, sounding less than impressed. "And the jacket and the cuddling?"

Adrien couldn't help the smile. "Well, there was a fairly obvious answer to all of your questions. As for the jacket and the cuddling, it was a bit on the chilly side in the runway room that morning, and Marinette had a light top on, so I gave her my jacket."

"Just like a boyfriend would. Or a husband."

She just wasn't giving up, was she? And what was with those husband comments? "My parents raised me to be a gentleman, and a gentleman doesn't let a lady freeze."

His father would appreciate that comment, if he ever saw it. Of course, it had been his mother and not his father who had been the one to teach him manners, but details like that didn't really matter to Gabriel.

"And then a gentleman tries to squish a lady by hugging her?"

"Well, then I was cold, and she was a wonderful source of heat." Adrien shrugged. "We've been friends for forever, and we joke around sometimes. Occasionally that ends up with us acting a little ridiculous."

"My sources said that you and your friend live in the same building, just across the hall from each other," Madam Addison said, collecting her photos again before sitting back in her chair. "Normally friends don't go to the effort of getting flats right next to each other."

Adrien couldn't help but laugh at that.

"That was actually a complete coincidence, actually," Adrien admitted with a grin. "The building has a lot of Madam Rosalie's interns and workers living there, since it's so close to their workplace. And I didn't actually select where I was going to live- I know it sounds awful, but my father's secretary actually found the place for me. I had no idea that Marinette was even in the same part of town, let alone the same building." That they had just happened to be neighbors was still nothing short of a miracle. "And then I accidentally ran right into her as I was leaving my flat on my first day in London. She had been here for a couple months already, so it was great to have a friend here who could show me around."

"Do you explore the city together as well?"

"Of course, when we both have the time." There was no point in denying it. If he did and then the paparazzi saw them traveling places together, they would make a bigger deal about it than if he just admitted it outright. "It's much more fun to see the sights with someone else. She sees things that I don't, and I see things she doesn't. And sometimes the she wants to go somewhere I wouldn't have gone on my own, and then we both end up having a great time."

"So we're likely to see the two of you out and about together," Madam Addison filled in. "Now, there was one other burning question we all had. There was a wedding advertisement a few months ago that, I think, largely flew under our radar. I think everyone in London has seen it now. It features you and Marinette as the bride and groom, surrounded by what my sources say are her coworkers."

"It was a very fun photoshoot," Adrien said with a smile.

"Yes, it looked fun. But I think people were wondering why the models for the shoot were such a mix. I understand that having normal-sized people in photoshoots is a hot new trend- and a welcome one!- but this shoot had a bunch of normal men and women and a single supermodel. It was an odd mix."

"It was," Adrien acknowledged, but he didn't say anything further. He didn't particularly feel like digging himself into a hole with the wedding photoshoot. It was better to get a feel for how much Madam Addison knew before he gave away too much accidentally.

"And even more recently, other photos have popped up," Madam Addison continued. "And the most interesting of the photos was this one." She held up the photo of Adrien dipping Marinette and kissing her full on the lips.

Adrien couldn't help the impish smirk that danced across his lips. He shouldn't have been smiling, really- as far as photos went, that was pretty damning- but at least he looked pretty cool.

"And only this morning, I learned about a video that was taken during the so-called photoshoot," Madam Addison continued when she didn't get the response she wanted out of Adrien. "We have the highlights of the video compiled here." With that, she turned her laptop around so Adrien could see it. It was short and focused on the vows, the signing of the "official" paper, and the kiss.

"So we seem to have fairly definitive proof that you and Marinette are married," Madam Addison finished, with a wide grin at the camera. "And the photoshoot was used as a cover-up so your father didn't find out."

So much for the photoshoot cover. Clearly someone had leaked the video.

"Well, it would have been a bit pointless as a cover-up, since I posted that video to my Facebook," Adrien said, letting his smirk slip onto his face. Honesty was probably the best policy here. It was a prank, and it was a prank that people would probably find pretty funny. "My father was meant to see it."

Madam Addison's brows shot up. "Is this a confession? You're actually married?"

"No, not at all. The wedding thing was one part photoshoot, one part prank." He flashed a winning grin at the camera. "I felt as though I wasn't being trusted to not make any bad decisions while I was studying here in London, so when the opportunity for a wedding photoshoot popped up right after I arrived in London, I hopped on it." He pulled out his phone and opened his Facebook, scrolling downward. The actual posts would confirm his story. "We then extended the basic photoshoot to make it look like an actual wedding, and then I pranked my father by claiming I had just met someone and immediately gotten married." He handed his phone over to Madam Addison so she could see the screen. He could only hope that she wouldn't take the opportunity to try to go through the rest of his phone. There wasn't anything particularly incriminating on there, but the more information tabloid reporters had, the more they could take out of context.

"Oh, this is hilarious," Madam Addison chortled, laughing as she scanned the photos. "You really pranked your father? Your father, Gabriel Agreste?"

"It was fun," Adrien said with a grin. "Madam Rosalie was 100% behind it, which was great. And we only told the people involved and Marinette's family. All of our friends got pranked as well, and their reactions were hilarious."

"For those who are wondering, the earliest post here says, 'Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married' and it has a whole album of photos from the wedding," Madam Addison said. She scrolled up. "The next one has the full video and says, 'Some wonderful people took a video of our special day so we could share it with everyone who wasn't there! Apologies for not inviting friends and family back in Paris, but we just couldn't wait!' You were really laying it on thick there, weren't you?" Madam Addison asked with a laugh. "Very romantic."

"It worked better than I expected," Adrien admitted. "There were a lot of people who thought we were actually being serious."

"Including your father?"

"Including my father," Adrien confirmed. "And our friends seemed to believe us too, for some reason. They were ticked off that they weren't invited. We got quite a few texts from them complaining about it."

"Perhaps they believed you because they thought that you were already dating?" Madam Addison suggested. "Or that you should be dating?"

"I think it had more to do with the fact that they knew that we had known each other for years," Adrien said with a shrug. "But my father read the post like I meant for him to do, and so he thought that I had only known her for a day."

"That you had only- oh! 'Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married!' Very nice suggestive wording! I thought it was maybe a little awkward considering that you knew each other, but that makes sense!" Madam Addison was really laughing now. "And then here's your last post: 'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though!' How many people thought you were serious?"

"Too many," Adrien admitted. "There were friends, there were models, there were other people that worked with me and for my father. I was really confused about why they thought that I would just up and marry someone I just met."

"So the photoshoot, then," Madam Addison said, composing herself again (a few more giggles slipped out anyway). "Was it originally meant to be all typical people plucked from the business?"

"I'm not sure," Adrien admitted. "It might have been. I never asked."

"And was Marinette originally supposed to be the 'bride' for the shoot?"

"She was the only person I knew would go along with my crazy plans to prank my dad," Adrien said with a grin. "And to be perfectly fair, she did try to talk me out of it at first. But I brought her around."

Madam Addison finally let out a somewhat defeated sigh. "So it sounds like you and this girl are great friends and partners in crime- or at least in pranks- and we'll see more of these kinds of interactions between you two. You're going to drive all of the gossip reporters insane, you know."

Adrien shrugged. He knew that. He also didn't care, unless his father really thought it was necessary for Adrien to make a statement every time some reporter decided to make a fuss about his and Marinette's friendship. Then it would just be irritating.

"Well, you'll keep things interesting, at least. You do know that people will keep seeing a relationship between the two of you- a romantic relationship?"

"They're trying too hard to see something, then," Adrien said simply. There was nothing else to say about it. "They're just making a mountain out of a molehill."

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #How to Fake a Marriage #...just a tiny bit late whoops #I'm hoping to go back to my regular schedule after this which means hopefully a one-shot tomorrow #but also my grandparents are coming over sometime tomorrow so I'll just have to actually post in a timely manner and not procrastinate

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thera-daydreams · 3 years ago

Text

INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

#trese #trese netflix #trese 2021 #crispin #basilio #maliksi #dominic #x reader #kambal x reader #crispin x reader #basilio x reader #maliksi x reader #dominic x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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fanfictiongreenirises · 3 years ago

Text

Dinner With the Family

Summary: Dick brings Roy and Lian to family dinner at the Manor.

Relationship/s: Dick Grayson/Roy Harper

Characters: Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Lian Harper, Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members

A/N: Got this idea while I was reading JLA (2006) after Roy just kept bumping into Bruce during various suspicious things he was exploring, and I wanted to put a DickRoy twist on it ^~^ I don't tend to write humour/lighthearted fics very much, so I hope this comes off okay. This is set sometime after JLA (2006) #21 and The Flash (1987) #247, and the Titans rebanding is referencing the 2008 Titans series. Pls ignore any inconsistencies with the timeline.

If you have any DickRoy prompts/requests you want me to write, send me an ask!!

Ao3 link

~~~

“I keep running into your dad,” Roy said.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You realise that’s going to continue being a thing, right?” he said, voice light. “You’re on the same team.”

Roy gave him a dry look. “Yeah, I get that, Wingster.” He heaved the last of the boxes out of the van and onto the street, jumping inside for one last check to make sure nothing remained. “But it’s… different. Than when I’m teaming up with other guys.”

Dick snorted, one hand reaching into his pocket and jingling the set of keys that were stored in there. “Yeah, ‘cause he’s Batman.” He narrowly missed the rag tossed at his head.

“You think he knows?”

“About us, you mean?”

“What else would I be talking about, Short Pants?”

Dick shifted his weight on the spot. “You care if he knows?”

“I don’t care, but he might,” Roy said, turning towards Dick. “Maybe that’s why he keeps showing up everywhere I go. He’s seeing if I’m committing any crimes. Or he wants to frame me for murder so he won’t ever have to actually deal with this. Or it’s another vetting process to see if I’m worthy or some shit--”

Dick stifled a smile, knowing very well that he'd expressed the exact same fears when Roy had casually brought up that he was going to tell Ollie. Of course, it'd been much more stressful when Roy had, a week later, mentioned he'd also told Dinah and Hal. But Roy had weathered his worries like a charm; Dick was most certainly going to do the same.

"You wouldn't be on the JLA if he didn't think you were worthy," Dick told him. "And he doesn't�� hate you."

"Robbie, please. He's never liked me or Ollie and we both know it. Hell, I think Connor's the only family member he's worked with and given actual approval to on the same mission."

Dick shrugged. "Everyone likes Connor. They work with him and wonder how the hell he's Ollie's kid."

Roy had to smile ruefully at that.

"Alfred knows, though," Dick said slowly, looking at Roy. "He's fine with it."

"Really?" Roy glanced over to Dick, as though to ensure his face was genuine. "Well, I got your other parent slash grandparent in my corner; least this way even if I get disapproving glares and missions designed to either kill me or imprison me indefinitely, I'll never starve."

He jumped down from the van, pulling the shutter closed as he did so. Dick was waiting for him when he landed; he wrapped his arms around Roy's waist and drew him in for a deep kiss. Roy reciprocated instantly, mouth moving against Dick's in familiar synchronicity, and his own hands coming up to cradle Dick's face.

They stood there for a moment after breaking apart, Dick looking searching at Roy. "Come to family dinner tomorrow night," he suggested. "The kids all like you, you can bring Lian - that's sure to soften B up - and I can tell Jason to cause chaos if it seems to be going badly. No one'll suspect a thing."

Roy had a deer caught in the headlights look on his face. "Tomorrow night as in, in 33 hours? That tomorrow night?"

"This way there's less chance for you to chicken out," Dick said with a grin, breaking away from their little bubble and starting with the nearest of boxes. "Besides, would you prefer him to find out because he dropped by my place one night and saw us naked in bed?"

He laughed at the look of utter horror on Roy's face as he opened the door.

~~~

Saturday night was upon them much sooner than even Dick had anticipated. Family dinner wasn't exactly a formal occasion, and half the time Dick would just arrive in sweatpants and a hoodie, with the intention of staying the weekend. Jason certainly didn't care to dress up, though Tim and Damian would always come in shirts and slacks. Cass was like Dick - she'd arrive in whatever she was feeling, which ranged from pyjamas to evening dresses to one memorable occasion where she'd come in a swimsuit in the middle of winter.

Lian refused to wear anything other than her Red Arrow costume and a bright blue tutu with it. Dick hoped his texts to Damian instructing him to be nice and maybe you guys will become friends!! and if you're welcoming to Lian I'll take you out for ice cream, just the two of us would work. He felt bad, bribing the kid like that. Ever since the Titans had gotten together again and he'd moved to New York, he'd been hard pressed to find one on one time to spend with Damian, though he made sure to video call at least every second day.

Roy had pasted a reassuring, confident smile on his face for Lian's sake - she'd been much more reticent about this whole endeavour since her last meeting with Damian had gone… poorly, to say the least. (Roy had taken a leaf out of Dick's book this time and promised her ice cream afterwards, as well.)

"C'mon," Roy said from the side of the car.

"But it's a driveway," Lian was complaining. "I don't have to hold your hand in a driveway."

"This driveway's practically its own road. The rules are you gotta hold my hand if more than two cars can fit on it and drive for longer than two seconds."

Dick poked his head up from where he was getting Lian's bag out of the boot. "Hey, Lian, you wanna hold my hand?"

Lian's eyes lit up and she bounded over to him in an instant, hand latching onto Dick's outstretched one.

"Lure my only daughter to your side, why don't you," Roy said drily as Dick handed him the bag.

"She's my favourite niece," Dick said with a ruffle of Lian's hair "It's my job to lure her to my side."

Roy shot him a fond look and joined them on Lian's other side. This time Lian had no problem accepting his hand, and the trip to the door was made longer by them working in tandem to swing her between them.

Alfred was waiting by the door, a soft look on his face. "Master Dick," he greeted. "And Master Roy and Miss Lian. It's a pleasure to have you with us. I trust your drive here was uneventful?"

Dick briefly pulled Alfred in for a hug after Roy (and Lian) had shaken his hand.

"Smooth as can be, with these two singing," Roy said, shoulders slowly beginning to relax.

Dick sniffed. "Not all of us are band quality, Harper."

"Master Bruce is waiting inside," Alfred cut in as they approached the lobby.

"The others?" Dick asked.

"Damian has an after school project he's completing at the library. Tim and Cassandra are in the city but they promised to arrive early to meet our guests. And Jason has said he'll 'probably be here'."

Dick smiled ruefully at that, both of them knowing full well Jason had attended the past four dinners. Besides, Dick had bribed him with a hundred dollars and a free upgrade of his motorbike to come tonight.

Their voices echoed in the silent halls. Lian looked around with wide eyes; Dick tried to remember how the Manor had felt, for him as a child. But it wasn't the same - Lian had lived in the Tower for a little while, which was massive, and of course there was always Ollie's place, though Dick wasn't entirely sure if Roy and Ollie had been on good enough terms back when Ollie had lived in the mansion.

"It's so dark," Lian whispered loudly, looking up at Roy.

"Remember what I said about energy conservation?" Roy said, fixing the little feathered hat on her head as it started to slip.

Lian nodded seriously. "Uh huh." And then to Alfred, she said, "You're doing great for the environment. I bet a house this big uses a lot of electricity."

Her pronunciation of the word had a few extra letters, and Dick hid a smile as he watched Alfred melt beneath Lian's earnest look.

"Yes, it does," Alfred agreed. "You're a very bright young woman."

Lian nodded. "Daddy says that a lot."

Dick briefly wondered whether it was appropriate to spontaneously grab kids and squeeze them tightly into a hug.

"Your father is right." Alfred led them to the living room, where the fire was going. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, a newspaper in hand and a teacup on the sidetable. He was wearing a formal suit, which he never wore to family dinners. Dick wanted to groan. Bruce stood when they entered, crisply folding the newspaper and setting it beside the teacup.

“Hey, Bruce,” Dick greeted. He went in for a hug instead of how he’d usually steal the newspaper and chat up a storm.

“Dick,” Bruce said, gingerly patting him on the back. Dick wondered distantly how Roy found their embraces, if they were in any way comparable to the feet-lifting bear hugs that Ollie doled out with absolutely no thought. “Roy, good to see you. And you brought Lian.”

He stuck out his hand towards Lian first, and Lian shook it with a concentrated look on her face that made even Bruce’s normally stoic face smile.

He moved his face! Roy mouthed to Dick with an exaggerated look of awe, and Dick bit his lip to stifle his own grin.

“Told you Lian would soften him up,” he whispered in response.

Bruce’s eyes flashed to Dick, narrowing. Dick watched with no small amount of amusement as Bruce tried to figure out what was going on.

"I promised Lian a tour,” Dick said, smoothly interrupting whatever train of thought Bruce was going down.

Bruce nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll join you. My house, after all.”

“Yeah, but I give the better tour.”

“You mean you make up stories about my ancestors.”

“Eh,” Dick said. “I use my imagination. You just give boring facts.”

Lian giggled at that, but when they started walking, she skipped forward and wrapped her hand around two of Bruce’s fingers. Bruce’s look of surprise was priceless.

“Hey, how come I never got a tour?” Roy whispered into Dick’s ear as they followed.

“Because you weren’t there the day the team came for a visit,” Dick whispered back. “I had to give you the boring adults tour with Ollie.”

“I got the boring adult tour?” Roy looked utterly affronted.

Dick smiled. “Look on the bright side: you get the appreciate the fun tour more now.”

“Does it include us sneaking away to make out in dark corners?”

Before Dick had a chance to reply, Bruce called out, “Keep up, you two!” and Lian echoed his words with a wide grin.

~~~

Dinner was always intended to be at seven, but usually got pushed back to as late as nine on days that were just a little more hectic than intended. Tonight, however, fate was smiling down on them, because Tim and Cass arrived by the time the tour ended, and Jason waltzed in at exactly two minutes to seven. Damian, according to Alfred, had arrived at around six, but for some reason hadn’t come to greet even Dick.

Dick was more disappointed in himself, that he’d failed to realise Damian was at the Manor. He knew how Damian’s brain worked; hopefully the kid wouldn’t think it was intentional on Dick’s behalf.

They sat themselves at the semi-formal table, the one that could host fourteen. Alfred liked throwing dinner parties, something Dick knew from his childhood memories that the older man had missed ever since Bruce had become Batman. Casual dinners that weren’t related to their night business were rare, and usually rather small. So he tended to go as all-out as he wanted to on these monthly nights.

There were two candelabras lit on the table, casting shadows on the wood. Candleholders along the walls had been lit at some point as well; back when Dick had first arrived at the Manor, they’d been actual candles, but when Bruce had rebuilt it after the earthquake, they’d been changed to electric. None of them drank recreationally, so Alfred had glass bottles of non-alcoholic beverages in their respective buckets by the wall.

The seating arrangement probably felt more rigid to the younger kids than it did to Dick, who’d gone through a variety of combinations. Bruce now sat at the head, but when Dick had been younger, that had been where Alfred had sat, and he and Bruce would be on Alfred’s left and right, respectively.

Nowadays, Bruce was at the head of the table, and Alfred on the other end. Tim and Damian sat closest to Bruce, with Dick beside Damian (mostly to act as a mediator), Jason beside him, and Cass beside Tim.

Today, Dick put himself next to Damian, and then put Roy and Lian beside him. Jason didn’t even blink before sitting himself down beside Cass, having already been briefed (and mildly bribed).

“Hey, Dami,” Dick said, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze before pulling away quickly. Damian may have grown to enjoy physical contact, but that meant nothing when he was presented with a situation he might be uncomfortable with, and having both Roy and his daughter here to meet the family? Much as he wanted otherwise, that was definitely a situation Dick didn’t expect to go without some hitches.

“Richard,” Damian said, glancing towards him and then turning back to fiddle with his napkin. “I thought you said you weren’t going to bring the toddler.”

“Hey!” Lian called out indignantly. “I’m not a toddler! I’m six!”

“The child, then,” Damian said coolly, giving her a hard stare.

“Damian.” Dick gave Damian a look, and Damian sighed loudly.

“Yes, yes, I’ll hold up my end of the bargain,” he muttered.

“Thank you.” Dick couldn’t resist the hair ruffle, and smiled winningly at Roy when Damian squawked.

“I have to say,” Roy murmured, “I was expecting… more threats. Maybe a knife pressed against my leg under the table.”

“You know that leaves the perfect opening for a—”

“Don’t say it—”

“You guys are gross—”

Dick raised an eyebrow at Tim, whose face was screwed up on the other side of the table. “You wanna talk about gross? Tell me about what I found under my bed, Tim!”

Jason glanced towards Tim. “You hid shit—”

“Language!” Roy said.

“—stuff, you hid stuff in Dick’s room? Was it food?”

“Actually,” Tim was glancing towards the door, and Dick knew that any minute now Alfred was going to walk in with Bruce in tow, “you guys are very sweet, and I’ll do upgrade and security on the new place for… free…” He frowned at Dick's wince. “Was I not supposed to say anything about that?”

Dick ran a hand through his hair just as Roy gave a tiny snort of laughter. “Not really,” he said with a tight smile.

Damian, who’d been engrossed with some game on his phone, had given away the fact that nothing had been playing on his earphones when his head had snapped up at Tim’s words. “What does he mean, ‘new place’?” he asked slowly.

Dick looked over to Cass, who widened her eyes and shook her head emphatically. With a stifled sigh, Dick began, “Dami…”

“You aren’t moving to Star City, are you?” he said.

Dick relaxed. “No! No, nothing that big! And honestly, it’s more team business than it is about us. I’m telling everyone about it tonight, but trust me, it won’t change anything. I’ll still visit like I do now.”

Damian looked at him with that deep frown, but he nodded, right as Bruce and Alfred entered the room, both wheeling in two trolleys of food.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Bruce said. “Someone decided to use the trolleys for skateboarding practise.” He and Alfred shifted the trays from the trolleys to the table; despite the heavy lids, Dick was salivating at the smell.

Cass shrugged. “Tim’s fault,” she said.

“Cassandra, it’s clearly your fault. Your shoes left marks.”

“Tim suggested it, then.”

“I did not!”

Cass pulled out her phone and showed Tim something, and Tim’s mouth clamped shut. With a glare towards his sister, he said, “I suggested it.”

“Wonderful!” Bruce said cheerfully. “You’re grounded for a week. Cassandra, for use of blackmail, you’re grounded for a week as well.”

“I want a trial,” Cass told him smugly.

Lian tugged on Roy’s sleeve, and Roy leaned down so Lian could press her mouth to his ear. Normally, Lian whispered loud enough that Dick could hear every word she was saying, even if he were halfway across the room. But now, with the sudden rise in volume at the table, it was hard to make out anything anyone was saying.

“So Lian tells me the Titans are creating a base in New York,” Bruce said, with a glance towards the two of them as he settled down in his seat.

Dick went to speak, but Roy beat him to it. “Yeah, we figured it’s the most convenient location to work from. And I suppose,” he added with a glance towards Dick, “we’re all a bit nostalgic for the city.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re getting your old base back, though,” Tim said, pointing a fork at the two of them. “No amount of nostalgia’s gonna turn us out.”

Dick snorted. “There’s enough room in that thing that we wouldn’t need to turn you guys out, even if we wanted to set up shop there. Which we don’t,” he added, when Tim opened his mouth again.

“Two teams at once,” Alfred was musing, “and a child as well. You’re about to be a very busy man, Mr Harper. Though with Master Richard there to help, I’m sure the two of you will be able to manage things well.”

Dick blinked in panic towards Jason – he hadn’t expected Alfred to add to this strange conversation that was happening, especially considering the man knew about their relationship – but Jason had aimed all his focus on stealing a piece of shrimp from Cass’ plate.

He kicked Jason under the table, and the shrimp went flying.

“Jason,” Bruce said, at the same time as Alfred’s surprised exclamation.

“Trying to start a food fight, Jay Bird?” Dick said, and Jason barely hid the giant grin on his face as he met Dick’s eyes for the briefest of seconds.

“B, I’ve had it with you critiquing my table manners.”

Okay, Dick thought. Not what he’d expected Jason to have prepared in his arsenal, but he’d take what he could get. Especially to distract Alfred enough to avoid any sort of interrogation.

Bruce looked at Jason in confusion, but Jason was continuing on, waving his knife in the air as he shovelled food into his mouth with the fork. “…get it, y’know, I’m from the seediest of seedy Gotham, and being a criminal isn’t exactly great for practising etiquette, but if you could fudging lay off for one dinner, is all I’m asking for.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred said sharply. “We have guests. Any issues you have with your father can be discussed in private.”

“Is this the chaos you were talking about?” Roy hissed to Dick. “Things were going perfectly fine!”

“I panicked, okay!”

Tim, Cass, and Damian were watching the happenings with utter glee on their faces, while Dick held his breath as he observed Bruce and Alfred. He didn’t want Jason to start up something too bad, something that might take longer for him to come back out of, but at times it was… difficult, to know where that line stood with him and Bruce.

He may have jumped the gun here.

Lian’s eyes were wide as she looked between Jason, Bruce, and Alfred. “Lian, finish your food,” Roy said to her.

“I’m saving space for ice-cream.”

“Trust me, you’ll have plenty of space for ice cream. You’re a bottomless pit with dessert.”

“What desserts does Miss Lian enjoy?” Alfred’s eyes had lit up, and his attention seemed to do a complete one-eighty away from the shouted very one-sided argument Jason was currently having to keep Bruce occupied.

"...with your dyed black hair and all your bald spots that you think we don't notice, like, newsflash, Bruce, everyone knows that cowl chafes..."

Roy nudged Lian slightly. “Lian, Alfred asked you a question.”

Like most children aged approximately six, getting Lian to talk was a bit like unplugging a dam; once she got going, and realised she had the undivided attention of her audience, it was almost impossible to get her to stop. Lian began to list her many, many favourite desserts, and Alfred listened with rapt attention. Dick could practically see his brain committing them all to memory.

“Lian’s gonna go home on a year’s worth of sugar rushes, isn’t she?” Roy said to Dick, but couldn’t hide the fond look in his eyes as he listened to his daughter.

“A year and a day,” Dick said. “Don’t forget you promised her as much ice-cream as she can eat in an hour.”

Roy winced. “I did, didn’t I. Least Bruce is gonna be the one who has to deal with Damian’s high.” He paused, and looked over to where Jason was now ranting about ‘rich assholes’. “Hey, did you come up with a code word to get Jason to stop?”

~~~

“Well,” Roy said with a long breath, as the two of them dried dishes. “It definitely could’ve gone a lot worse.”

Dick grimaced. “It could’ve gone a lot better, too.”

Roy snorted. “Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “You just caught my family on a strangely tame day. Stick around, and you’ll see how family dinner normally goes.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t bribe and blackmail your siblings?” Dick asked with a sidelong glance towards Roy.

Roy didn’t say anything, just smiled and dried.

“I should probably tell Bruce,” Dick murmured. “I was gonna tell him before the dinner, but then I didn’t want him to be acting weird during the meal, ‘cause you literally can’t escape without it being awkward for everyone involved.”

“Dick,” Roy sighed, “I think you should just go rip the Band-Aid off, y’know? At least before you take Damian out.”

“I will,” Dick said, and he meant it. He’d already thought of all the worst-case scenarios; this would doubtlessly go much better than they had in his imagination.

~~~

When Dick stepped into the living room Bruce liked to spend the evening reading in, only the table lamps were on, and the fireplace was flickering gently. Bruce was sitting on an armchair, now in a more casual pair of sweatpants and long sleeved shirt. He had a cup of tea beside him, which made Dick relax a little – tea meant Bruce wasn’t working on a case. It was always much easier to talk to Bruce, and not have to think about Batman.

“Hey, B,” he said, stepping inside silently and nabbing the teacup. He took a sip, mostly out of habit, and by the exaggerated glower Bruce aimed at him, the other man felt the same.

“I’ve missed getting to have only half my drinks,” Bruce said dryly.

Dick snorted. “Please,” he said. “Like the others don’t steal your tea too.”

Bruce shrugged. “Damian’s the only one who still lives here full time,” he said. “Though he stole my toast the other morning, which is progress.” Dick hummed in agreement, still taking small sips of the utterly sugarless tea Bruce insisted on drinking. “But that’s not what you came here to talk about.”

Dick shifted, in the end deciding to sit on the arm of the chair. He kept his eyes on the fireplace, avoiding looking at Bruce’s face and seeing his reaction. “Yeah,” he said. “Roy said I might as well rip the Band-aid off. It’s not anything bad,” he hurried on to reassure, feeling Bruce stiffening beside him, “although you might not see it that way.”

“Dick,” Bruce rumbled, patting his knee awkwardly to get him to stop rambling. Dick handed him his teacup, but all Bruce did with it was place it softly back on the side table.

“Roy and I are dating,” he said, and then, before Bruce could say something in response to that, he added, “And when we said the Titans are moving to New York, it’s not… entirely true.”

Bruce nodded. “The JLA headquarters are in New York,” he mused. “And since both Roy and Wally are on both teams, it’s easier if it’s in the same city.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… we’re moving in together. Roy and Lian and me. It’s just convenient that the place we found is large enough for a team HQ, and affordable if we all split the cost.”

Bruce was quiet for a moment. “I’m the last to know, aren’t I.” His words weren’t a question. When Dick didn’t answer, he sighed. “I know I reacted… poorly, when I discovered the two of you dating when you were teenagers. But that was then. Roy has... come a long way since then.”

“You didn’t exactly have a problem with Roy so much as with Ollie,” Dick said. “You probably still do.”

Bruce grimaced, and seemed to look for what to say. Dick let him have his time, heart pounding away in his chest. “Any issues I have with Oliver, or with Hal, or even with Roy… they’re not your responsibility. They’re mine. And… maybe my feelings towards Ollie have… changed, now that we’re both older.”

Dick blinked. “Huh,” he said. “That’s a much more mature response than what I expected from you. I thought you were gonna have a rant about how Ollie’s an ‘arrogant bastard’ and then make a snide comment about his hat and the feather, and then finish it all off with something about Roy and not being good enough me.” And when Bruce finally turned to look at him, face startled, Dick had to laugh. “You were thinking it, weren’t you?”

Bruce grunted. “You can be an arrogant bastard with a stupid hat but still be… not that bad,” he acquiesced. “And I don’t think anyone’s good enough for you, but I’m pretty sure all parents think that.”

“Oh yeah, they do.” Dick nodded, thinking back to pointed statements he’d received from Commissioner Gordon while he was dating Barbara, and both Oliver and Hal when Roy had broken the news about the two of them. He was lucky Dinah seemed to like him, though god knew Dick hadn't expected that, what with her friendship with Babs and the fact that she'd seen her through the aftermath of their breakup. “Y’know, now that I think about it, it’s weird how many people I’ve dated have been orphans.”

“It certainly makes it easier to impress family,” Bruce said, in a surprising moment of levity. Bruce would probably know, with the people he’d dated.

The thing with him and Roy and their respective fathers, Dick reflected, was that they’d both been taken in when Oliver and Bruce had been young. He’d been on the wings – as per Tim’s request – when Tim had told Bruce about Kon, and that conversation had gone much differently, though it helped that Dick was almost thirty and no one was here thinking about curfews and open doors. But the fact that there’d been a long period of time where the lines between brother and father and mentor and friend had been blurred beyond recognition made a difference.

“So,” Dick said, riding on the waves of relief now that this was finally out in the open. “You’re good with it all?”

Bruce nodded, and gave him a small but very real smile. “I’m happy for you,” he said honestly, and the returning smile Dick gave came without prompting. “But I hope you know that this means you have to bring Lian along every family dinner.”

Dick raised his eyebrows. “Wow,” he said, though he was completely unsurprised at Lian's ability to wrap Bruce around her finger in the few hours they'd spent time together. “I thought after all of us you’d be sick of kids by now.”

Bruce gave him a confused look, getting up to take his empty teacup into the kitchen. “Why would I have five kids if I was sick of them?” he said. “And Lian’s not a kid – she’s a grandkid. However, the stunt you had Jason pull certainly doesn’t put grown-up kids in my favour.”

“That asshole,” Dick said, trying not to show how his heart had skipped a beat at ‘grandkid’. “Did he confess to you? I paid him good money not to.”

“He didn’t,” Bruce told him with a raised eyebrow, “but you just did.”

~~~

Roy drove on the way back. The radio was tuned to a soft rock station, lulling Lian to sleep in her booster seat in the back. Her arms were clutching a tiny stuffed bird, a present from Damian, much to everyone’s surprise. She hadn’t let go of the thing since he’d given it to her.

"By the way,” Dick said, turning his head to look over at Roy, “Bruce wants Lian to come to every family dinner.”

Roy blanched. “Every family dinner?” he said. “That’s like a once a month thing. We gotta go through that twelve times? I don’t think I even have dinner with my family that often.”

Dick snorted, knowing full well that was a lie. Ever since Ollie had come back from the dead, both Ollie and Roy had made more of an effort to spend more time together, and it helped that Connor and Mia lived with him. Roy wanted Lian to grow up with family around, which Dick suspected was another reason he’d agreed to start the Titans back up again. He wondered if his family would end up being Lian’s third one.

“It’s payback for Ollie testing my date-worthiness with his spiciest chilli,” he told Roy instead, mouth still burning with the memory of that dinner.

“You passed that with flying colours, though,” Roy said. “I think only Dinah and Connor could manage more than half a plate.”

They lapsed back into comfortable silence. Dick glanced down at Roy’s hand on the gearbox, and placed him on top of it. Roy's eyes flickered down to their joined hands, and the sides of his mouth lifted up in a soft smile. He turned his hand around, and intertwined their fingers.

#dick grayson #roy harper #dickroy #roydick #fic #lian harper #bruce wayne #fluff and humour #iris writes

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celisgettacos · 4 years ago

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I'm going to post this because maybe someone will hear this over words unspoken, my name is Billy Strange and I still wake up each morning picking up the next piece, I've almost taken my life more then I can count on both hands, from a high school sweet heart marriage of 9 years turned bloody and a custody battle that went from healthy to sadistic over a span of 3 years and 20k, and it was the words from a man I barely knew for no more then 6 months, that has saved me

I see and talk to so many fathers who tell me their story and I so badly want to tell them just to listen to what I'm telling you, I can get you out of this if you just let me a stranger walk with you through it... It never works out that easy but I don't give up and I hope you all read these words and share them to those who may hear it better from the words written by their brother in arms.. any way

I look back for those 2 years I was there and remember pushing anyone close to me as far away as possible so that they didn't have to feel the initial pain or try to stop me, all because I felt like I let them all down...

The only people I kept around me were strangers because I wanted to know if they seen me as a failure not even knowing me.... It was because of that, and them being completely honest about why it was only me that maybe it wasn't meant to be,

(A Satanist told me this and I'll never forget it, it was his words that allowed me to get this far) he is not one for recognition so I won't label him.

"did you ever think that your trying so hard to hold up a world that has fallen all around you...

Maybe you are on the right path and you are only focusing on the things that have already broken, and don't realize that all you have to do is look down at each piece, see it and learn why it was so important to you and then glue it to that small piece you are still holding above you, then go to the next and keep going until each piece has shown you just how strong it actually made you to make it to someone who seen your strength, and can see you just forgot what gave you that strength.

It will hurt, it will make you hate the way you handled certain things, it will cause you to try to give up,

but because you made it a task to see each piece, and put it all back up, you will never allow yourself to give up, or find a rope, until you complete your task, because thats the person you are...

But you have to understand that it may have taken you 5 years to build that first world you now see broken below you, it will take far longer to rebuild it stronger, because you will also rebuild yourself with each piece, and you have to remember to let each piece's glue dry before placing the other or else you will watch it become to stressful and not understand why you think you are doing the right thing but it keeps falling....

Learn each piece then let it hurt, while you hold it in place to dry, let it consume your mind and play it over and over like a movie each piece until it dries, then heal, smile before you look back down for that next piece, and don't ever be scared to place even those bad things you did when not everyone was watching back into your rebuild, because without each piece it will be to weak and fall apart down the road when everything seemed good.

Basically you have to accept that you are on a dark road but to learn to see in the dark it will allow you to navigate later in life when you see a person on that same road and they ask for help.. Don't ever forget how you felt because they may have absolutely no one and will you want to be the one who pretends like you didn't see it. Anyway that being said stop mopping and let's go handle business "

The next section is a completely separate chapter from above but I feel maybe can help...

I want to add to this 4 years from that being told to me and experiencing it in real life, that sometimes you will still find yourself in a sort of limbo period I've managed to pin mine down to about every 8 months, if for some reason I didn't accomplish a goal I set prior and it feels like no matter what I do or try I can't for some reason figure it out, those are the moments you need to find a person you trust your life with because those will be the moments you will try anything to get you out of that mentality because we want to feel that we are moving forward no matter the speed, but to feel stuck and not being able to see a way out or that lost piece that you know is there it's just probably hidden under some of your other pieces..we feel like Maybe just for a moment let whatever is causing you to panic, whether it's rent, a car that is broke and no money and work tomorrow, or you've been jobless for 3 months now and even with all the resumes submitted nothing is available and winter is a cold time to be homeless with no job, or maybe you still haven't got a place to stay so that you can have your children stay with you finally, whatever it is the worst thing that can happen is what you silently keep fighting to not take over,

I just want this fight to stop for one night, I just want all this stress to burry itself tonight so I can try to breathe... What that really means is I'm going to go back to those bad habits I had because it always quieted those fights in my head and if I can just do that I will have a clear mind to find a solution..

I will tell you from experience that once you reach that moment nothing but a person of trust will stop you from taking that hit, or drinking those shots, calling that sexual excitement, spending the money you don't have on the gambling machines, going out on the town with the sole purpose of getting wasted, because we truly believe that we are better prepared to control our vices, we will stop at our limit, what we never realize is that we allowed those vices to retake control by thinking you needed it to breathe.

What will ultimately usually happen is a night of uncontrolled guilt, constant war inside yourself, conscious tears filling up your emotional warhead..

all night this rage of self doubt quietly destroying your confidence, causing you to go right on past that limit of 2 shots, or just one line, or I'll only put 20 bucks in the slots, or I will just flirt I won't allow it to go past that,

because that fight is still loud and now more painful, because you know deep down that you allowed yourself to fall and laying there helpless...I cringe even writing these next words because it's so easy to reach this point of thinking that;

"obviously we were just meant to fail"

"why not right, "

"who really cares if I fail there's, no one here to stop me right..."

"So why should I have to carry this pain all the damn time, why is it so fucking easy for everyone else..."

And that's it...

(Those of you who are reading this and may be in this exact moment please, look at that image that you always hold in your mind of your child's eyes, look at that past moment when you and your daughter would lay under the stars with her head on your shoulder watching the magical pink elephant jump through a black sky as she explains how much she loves you and talks about anything and everything that her imagination creates under that massive sky where imagination always comes to life.... Feel her heart as she paints her masterpiece and ask you to help with the flowers over there by the big dipper so the elephant has something to give her mom,

please don't let your moment die because you have no more left, and no one in your face to help you, please call me I don't know you but I will before we hang up and I won't let you fail the only mission that will keep your children's smile alive for another year because you didn't let yourself fall.)

Cont. - don't Wake up the next day or still awake 12 hours later after all those "friends" left you to sit with your own guilt... Oh yeah, that guilt is now yelling loudly inside your entire soul, as it launches that emotional warhead of tears, oh yeah those evil people why did they let me do this....

Why did they... Urrrghhhhh why did I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I,... DO this I can't believe I went back to what destroyed me and actually talked myself into believing this was going to help me....

It's in those tears and self reflection comes a choice that is now forced on you, oh hold that thought your friend from last night is calling, and they want to know if you want to continue this "unhealthy" adventure..

You either respond with a yes and have accepted that you have lost your control, and most times it will set you back 3-6 months or until your money runs out or those "friends" hurt you. And then you realize that all you did was take on more hurt and more pain and that's a scenario that will most likely continue to lead to occasional loss of all reality until you find that piece of your life that you keep looking over and afraid to pick up, and will cause your life to end up in constant downfalls until addressed.

Or you will have addressed that guilt and conquer a small war by not answering, because you are very In tune with accepting responsibility and able to understand that you could have destroyed your life, someone else's life, and now you know that you still are not able to control those periods of limbo when nothing is working. So accept responsibility for any loses you may have encountered, like a drug test at work, or a piece of your dignity, or people you thought were friends...

The first step from that is to immediately have the talk with that person you know will hold you accountable during those periods, 9 out of 10 times that person is who you looked up to as a child whether it's your mom, dad, grandparent, or sibling, for me it was my grandmother.. The moment you can go to them honestly no matter what it was that you did the night before, you have to let them know what that is, you have to be able to openly label the thing that will destroy you, and let them know how important they are to your strength, those tears from that conversation will build a mountain of motivation inside of you... Usually sparking that jolt to get you over that limbo...

Some people can afford to pay those people to help them, for the rest of us we have each other so that's my little piece of advice I hope it helps someone

#mentally ill #mentalwellness #mental instability #mental awareness #2020 #mental illness #Spotify

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stubert87 · 5 years ago

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I've spent some time wondering if coming back here to write something was too self indulgent at a time like this. But I'm going to start writing and if you're reading it then I got to the end, thought it was ok, and posted it.

I think it's fair to say that the nation's mental health, as a whole, is in somewhat of a state of flux at the minute. Our life as we have come to know it has been entirely disrupted, albeit temporarily. I've come back to this space to share some of my musings and offer support to anyone who's mental well-being has been affected since the threat of coronavirus has appeared. For many of us this may just be the most recent trigger in a series of major episodes of anxiety, low mood, etc. For others this may be the first experience of anxiety or any form of negative mental health. I hope this makes sense. Maybe even some of it may resonate.

I'm more than familiar with how isolated our thoughts can make us feel when we're in the midst of a low point. Add to that the very literal isolation that has been placed upon us through social distancing measures, and we have the recipe for a mental health crisis. But it isn't as bad as it sounds. In every new scenario and environment there is opportunity. We just have to be willing to see past the fear, and seize it.

There are some of us adept at change. There are some of us that aren't. I most certainly am not. I'm analytical and need order. I need time to digest my new environment, figure out how to exist within it, and then consciously marry up my strengths to this new situation, while guarding my vulnerabilities, until I establish a comfort zone. For those of us who aren't as fast paced as others when dealing with change, the entire situation is a wall of anxiety that seems insurmountable. We are paralysed by the overwhelming barrage of "what ifs" leading to "I can'ts" that lead to "I'm a failure" and there we have ourselves back on the edge of The Abyss, thinking that this is no way to live and pleading with the universe to make tomorrow better.

The insurmountable wall right now is made up of a combination of catastrophic thoughts that has the potential to cripple us. From worrying about the health of ourselves, our friends and families, to worrying how long this will last, and when we can see each other again, each question is a potential doorway to a 'corridor of catastrophising'. It's very easy to end up at very scary and upsetting conclusions, such as "I'm never going to see xyz again" or "I'm next". Very dark thoughts in an already dark time.

The process of breaking the cycle of worry is a lot greater than anything I can outline in this blog. There's a reason that forms of therapy last many sessions. But I'll try to pass on a few tips that have helped me over the years.

I like to think there's two places you can tackle your worry. If we use the analogy of the 'corridor of catastrophising', the door you walk through and into the corridor is the initial worry, the end of the corridor is the final conclusion you reach: a dead end is a total overwhelming negative thought, taking another door out of the corridor is us reaching a better conclusion.

The first way you can try to tackle your worry is at the start, by nipping it in the bud. When you open the door and see that "what if" worry, you can ask yourself is this normal worry, or excessive worry. If what you're thinking is something like "I'm worried about the wellbeing of my grandparents because they're vulnerable and isolating for 12 weeks" then this is a perfectly normal worry. Any human being would think this. You then need to make sure you follow up this thought with positive action and find one way to make the situation better. Using the grandparents example, can you set them up with video calling? Can you send them voice notes? Can you get them involved in distanced activities like a video chat quiz or look for events to take part in like the virtual grand national? Taking positive action will help remove the mental isolation and bring about a positive shift in mindset. And much like a negative mindset can spiral, a positive mindset can also gain momentum.

For some of us though this may be to little too late. We might have already walked down the dark corridor to it's gloomy and seemingly absolute end. And also for anyone who hasn't had to work at challenging their thought processes before, simply trying to nip it in the bud is a a lot to get to grips with straight away, and you could actually end up in a strange state of denial where you're pushing the thought away, only for it to come back with a vengeance. So we have to look at reframing our negative thoughts to help us back track and take another turn off the corridor.

The idea is to challenge the thought by asking yourself can I bring any evidence to back that thought up? Can I prove without any shadow of doubt that the thought I have is true? Using the example of grandparents again, it's easy to bring in evidence like "they're old and therefore high risk", "there's already been thousands of deaths". These are natural worries, but they're not concrete evidence to support a worst case scenario. If we try re-framing our thoughts more positively then the thoughts become less consuming and therefore allow us to think more rationally. "They're vulnerable" - correct, but they're shielding for 12 weeks in isolation to ensure the chances of infection are minimal. "There's already been thousands of deaths" - could be challenged by "yes but there's also plenty of cases of recovery and also so many that haven't been infected or shown symptoms. As long as we're all doing our part to stop the spread, we reduce the risk".

By challenging each negative thought we give ourselves chance to minimise their detrimental impact and make them more manageable and easy to digest. It takes a lot of practice but eventually you get quicker at managing these thoughts and you're quickly volleying them away before they can take hold.

Another problem many of us are now facing is the concept of managing our time in isolation so we're not climbing the walls. Not an easy task at all, but one the more analytical of us may find a bit easier. Iregardless it will take practice. It's easy to fall into bad habits when we have too much time to kill. For some of us we'll naturally fall into good habits because we're disciplined. For others amongst us structure and good routine maybe don't come so naturally. The best way to ensure we're getting the most out of our day is to spend up to a week documenting your activities and the mood you experienced while doing it, correlating what our mood was like to the activity and looking for patterns in the day to day, so that we can then start planning more activities that elevate our mood whilst balancing our necessary tasks that may not bring us so much comfort or joy. Sounds simple on paper but I can definitely attest to the fact that challenging your own behaviour and embedding change is never easy.

There are also so many of us who have anxious brains who've suddenly found that we're calmer than usual. That people around us seem more anxious than we are. It's an interesting phenomenon that I've recently found myself in and mused over this somewhat. Having pondered on it a while, I can only draw the conclusion that my mind is used to living in a state of abstract worry. By that I mean I'm worrying about what MIGHT happen, or rumenating on an incident that happened a week ago. None of this worry is in the present. And when you're suffering from a period of mental ill-health it feels almost possible to be present, grounded, and in the moment. But in this pandemic lies a very real, very present threat. One that means our lives are changing by the day. A threat that is very much making us exist in the present. Anyone who's ever been stuck in the rut if anxious thinking knows that when you snap out of it into the present moment, you're capable of thinking and rationalising and lightning speed. So if you're one of us who's found yourself much calmer than ever, make sure you're continuing to keep those positive actions going to build a positive resilience. Think about what you can do to help friends, family, colleagues and your community to keep us all afloat. Sometimes the people who've experienced the darkest of thoughts are the ones who can bring light to others dark times. If this is you, now's your time to shine.

The final key to it all is my age old advice. KEEP TALKING. The second you feel in a slump, pick up the phone and call someone. Video call them. Start a House Party. Never impose further isolation on yourself by withdrawing. On the opposite side, if you haven't heard from someone in a while then call them. Make whatever plans you can in this difficult time.

I think I've meandered on long enough. If you've made it this far, thank you. If you've found any of this thought provoking or even helpful please let me know. I've attached a link to some further reading on covid-19 and anxiety (if you have any reading left in you) I think it's pretty useful

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