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infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

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SHE WILL BE LOVED (Floyd Talbert X F! Reader)

Summary: Floyd drove for miles and miles, and still wounded up at the same door. Every. Single. Time.

Word-Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Slight mention of smut, past mentions of abuse/ rape

A/N: Based off of the Maroon Five Song. Not gonna lie, there old stuff is salvageable and can go hard, Overexposed is a great album. I have a love and hate relationship with this oneshot. I should be sleeping because I have to wake up at 7:50AM tomorrow but like...Floyd Talbert, am I right? Also, I'm working on dribbles. My inbox is acting strange so if you sent in anything, please send it in again, thank you! Hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty

Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist!

Women say men are all the same; A gentleman, at least what Floyd Talbert considered him, proves women wrong.

Floyd Talbert knew he was no good. He didn’t consider himself a playboy , even though he charmed a new girl every week and possibly took them to bed, but he definitely knew how to play the game. Heck, his friends called him the master of the game. Girls back home and Europe loved it when Tab would break their young hearts with his dashing smirk. Every week, he’d have a pretty lady or two hanging off of his arms, giggling and smiling at anything he did or said. It boosted his ego even bigger than it already was. What was there not to love? He got whatever he wanted, when he wanted, and he always was satisfied in the end.

Guys wished they were him and any girl he could get his hands on simply adored him. Floud Talbert was like Hercules, but more conceited and naive. He was too young for marriage and too old for foolish games. He liked the flamboyant lifestyle he lived, it kept him on edge. Besides, who would Floyd Talbert, the one, the only, change for?

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“Busy night?” You questioned, leaning against the counter, overlooking the packed bar. There was soft jazz in the backing music, singing, dancing, and loads of drunken men. Most of them were Americans. Alborune had been hosting the Paratroopers in the quaint little town. On the weekends, the pubs would turn into total clusterfucks, at least according to your boss.

Your boss looked at you and shrugged his shoulders, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “Unfortunately, and a lot of damn drunks,” He cursed. You looked behind him, seeing the American soldiers sloppily dancing with the local girls and even some of the waitresses. You could see the soldiers, their breaths of beer and hands grasping the waitresses' backs and butts, spinning them around as swing music played in the black. You had worked in a pub and knew how these relationships ended; divorce or after an awkward one night stand. Unfortunately, you had experienced the two of those more times then you could count on your fingers. Not wanting to get hurt, you made it official that you were here to do your job, make drinks, and serve the men. Nothing else and nothing more.

You bit your lip, letting out an inhale, “Another Friday night at the pub.”

“Jus’ be careful, you hear me?” Your boss warned. He was like a father towards you; an old man with sweet eyes. He always made sure the waitresses in his bar weren’t being harassed in the pub. “And whatever you do-”

“Don’t get yourself into trouble,” You repeated as you tied the apron onto your hips, “I know. ‘S not like I’ll be getting into it anytime today, or at all.”

At the bar you worked at, most of the waitresses were the most beautiful women you had ever seen. They looked like they belonged in Hollywood with their soft curls, red lips, and large breasts. They were always either chatting up a storm with a Paratrooper, giving a paratrooper a motorboat, dancing with a Paratrooper, or sneaking with a Paratrooper to the back of the Pub. It was because they were beautiful on the outside, but not within. The men weren’t smart enough to see that. All they desired was a pretty girl to use and then dispose of the next day. It occasionally made you a tad bit jealous. You knew how childish it was, but you wanted to be that girl who was loved not only for her looks, but her personality. Loved for who you truly were. But you reminded yourself that it was better if you kept yourself out of the limelight.

You had begun your shift, taking orders and rushing to the counter to make two full trays of beer in your hands. The night was so far going well. A few of the men had hit on you, but it was nothing new or special. You simply ignored it, doing your mundae little schedule.

Rosie was one of your co-workers. She was everything you wished to be; pretty, bubbly, and got everything she wanted. Every week, Rosie would wrap another Paratrooper around her finger. However, she began to play their game as well. Rosie took pleasure in twisting the mind’s of the Paratroopers and breaking their hearts, finding entertainment in it. She was a tease and took great pride in it. As much as you wanted to be her, seeing the Paratroopers have drinking games and even fights over her hand in “marriage” or “too see her glorious caboose”, you stopped and questioned yourself with emotion and logic. Was she truly happy doing this? Was she trying to fill a void in her life? Was she more of an object then a woman? Was it moral of her to break hearts as well?

You saw Rosie sitting next to a young Paratrooper as they made out passionately, hands traveling across each other's bodies. You couldn’t help but look and see their burning desire and hunger for each other. Rolling your eyes, you walk around the crowded bar, the strong smell of Alcohol and vintage jazz pleasing your ears. Every table was full, and as much as you dreaded it, it was your job to go around and ask what the men wanted.

You approached the first time and put on a counterfeit red smile, tilting your head as you chirped to the men. They all turned to you, half smiles and tired eyes, begging for more alcohol. You simply took the groups and wrote down their orders, going from man to man until you reached the end of the table.

“And what would you like?” You asked, preparing your pen and pushing it against your tiny notebook.

The man at the end of the table was conversing with her friends. He first turned his head, greeting you

with his big hazel eyes. You observed his boyish features of ruffled golden hair, a babyface, and lightly tanned skin. Sure, he was handsome, but so was every other man in this bar. He looked at you up and down, a smirk forming at the edge of his lips before he turned his whole body around to face you. He leaned on the edge of the table and simply stared at you, like he was in awe.

“You,” He spat, earning a laugh from all of his friends.

Through your smile, you grit your teeth. “As If I’ve heard that one a million times..” It was a lie, that was the first time you had ever heard that in a while. You weren’t pretty enough to be noticed, but this time was apparently an expectation. “Do you want me to get you a menu?”

You pointed his finger at you, “Like I said-you.” He stood up and smirked, holding his hands out. “You-me, I think we’d make a pretty great match.”

“How would we make a great match If I’ve known you for less than a minute?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows. “I could be mean.”

“Oh, come now. You're gorgeous, I’m handsome.” He persisted. Great, not one of these. “Besides, I like challenges. Just be warned, I always win them miss…” He hesitated on your name before continuing, “Your name, doll?”

“Your order?” You said as you tapped your pen against your notebook. His little nickname had your cheeks flush a little. Thank god the pub had been litlety dimmed. “Please?”

“A beer and your name, please.” He politely requested. “I don’t believe I’m asking for much.”

You looked at him with a sarcastic and puzzled expression, “Why do you care so much about knowing my name? You seem like the type who would forget by the next morning.”

His friends made “ohing” noises like middle schoolers like a teacher would reprimand one of their friends. The cocky bastard let out a chuckle, flashing his pearly whites in a cocky smile. “Well, it depends. You’re feisty-I like it. Since it’s gonna be a while before we have anything going on between us, I best thought I’d make us familiar with each other. It’ll take some time for you to fall for me, but when you do, you’ll be lucky.”

This man could not be for real. It wasn’t a man, but a boy. But on the outside, he was so god damn handsome. He looked like a homewrecker, but god damn, he did a good job of being one. Your boss's word’s of staying out of trouble were lingering from your mind now, and so quickly.

“You’re not gonna shut up until I tell you my name now, are you?”

He shook his head, “Where’s the fun in that, dollface?”

You wrote down his order for beer and then looked up, a smirk, “Y/n. Now you?”

“Y/n, a good name for a good girl. I’ve met a lot of y/n’s, but none like you. They fell into my arms like flies, but you aren’t like that. Just yet,” He joked, earning an eye roll from you. “It’s only fair If I tronduce myself, Sergeant Floyd Talbert,” He gave you a quick salute before relaxing, ‘But you can call me Tab, your boyfriend, or that silver fox that swept you off of your pretty little feet.”

“I think Tab will be good. Just try not to forget my name now, even though my expectations aren’t very high.” You sassed. He gave you an air kiss and you simply gave him a side eye, holding the tray and notebook to your chest as you ushered back to the counter to retrieve Beers. As you prepared them, you thought about Floyd Talbert. There were thousands of men like him. Good for nothing players who were too damn handsome for their own goods. Floyd Talbert was the type of man your parents would warn you to stay clear of since their middle names were trouble in all capitals.

But if he was so bad, then why was he so good to look at it?

Back at the bustling table, Floyd had kept his eyes on you. He watched your eyemove, like a hunter with its prey. He saw you converse with other waitresses, turn down compliments from other paratroopers, and do your job. He wasn’t one for formality, especially in the dating fields. It wasn’t what he was accustomed to doing. By now, the two of you would’ve been in the back of the pub, faulting to get your clothes off of each other for a wuckie. But you were different, you were a special case that Floyd knew would take a lot of investigating,

“Why’d you ask for her name?” Malarkey asked, knocking Floyd out of his trance. “You say it’s not good to ask for a dame’s name. You know, to make it easier.”

Floyd didn’t look over at Malarkey and simply stared at you, filling the large drinks with beer. He pulled on his lip, slumped on the chair. He always knew the answer for everything, he always had a solution.

But this time, it was different.

Floyd had gone into one of the bathrooms with a waitress, who simply smirked at him. Her whole face had trouble written her face, and so did he. She had red lipstick, bedroom eyes, and the nicest rack Floyd had ever seen. He knew from that moment that he would use his words to woo her. After a brief conversation of aggressive flirting, her and Floyd headed to the bathrooms with the blonde, angrily took their clothes off, and fucked. It was quick and there was not a single word spoken between the two. Floyd loved the attention and girls he got, but he never got a relationship or word out of them. He only cared for their looks, which even he knew was shallow. But it was all he knew how to do. If they seemed happy, so was he. But inside, was he truly happy with this lifestyle he lived? Did he like leaving a girl heartbroken the next morning with no goodbye? Did it make him happy?

And yet, he never asked for her name or had a small conversation with her. After they finished, she simply cleaned herself up and left, acting like nothing had happened. Floyd acted like that too, it was easy to put on a facade. He brushed back his ruffled hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw on the outside, but what did he like on the inside?

He still thought about the girl who had served him, y/n, who was not like his other targets. Y/n rejected his advances and twisted his words, which even Talbert found entertaining. He didn’t know this girl very well, but he wanted to. Flirt with her and talk to her, heck-even have a drink with her.

His hyperixation with Y/n wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon.

--------

So Floyd did what he did best-he kept coming back to the Pub. He would come with the men from Easy Company, and sometimes on his own. There he’d find y/n, who’d roll her eyes as he’d walk over and make another “amazing” attempt at flirting. His comments weren’t very creepy, after all, he was a gentleman. You had seen him around the bar before, but never learned his name. You always saw him as the handsome player with a blonde or brunette on his arm. Sure, he had that classic boyish look every girl and guy wished or wanted, but under all that hair gel and his pristine uniform-was he doing it all for his own pleasure? Did he think of women as toys he could throw away the next day, just like had been before? So you did what you did best-keep your distance and roll your eyes at his remarks.

But everytime he walked in and the doorbell would ring, signifying his presence, your hand would grasp against the cloth you were holding to wash down the bar counter..

Floyd kept his promise and kept being persistent with winning your heart. He’d walk in and lean against the counter, saying your name like a sweet singsong. You’d serve him a drink, and he’d tell you about his day and occasionally flex his muscles. At first glance, Floyd seemed a boorish boy; the one who’d brag how he’d conquer multiple women like they were countries. You knew boorish men all too well, and didn’t need another one to increase your pessimistic view on romance.

While much has Floyd loved to boast about himself, he also loved to talk about you. He always complimented your outfits, asked about your day, and even scared off the creepy paratrooper’s who’d get too close for comfort. When Floyd would talk to you, he’d look directly into your eyes and respectfully listen. And he remembered the tiniest of details, such as your little daughter or your neighbor, an edlery women, who’d pester you about marriage and cooking.

“So, how’s Ms.Walsh?” He asked as you placed a Beer in front of him. He had a shit eating grin on his face, so you already knew where this was going. “Did you tell her about your new man?”

You shrugged your shoulders and played it off, “Much to your dismay, I did not. I’m still single.”

“Funny that you say that, y/n. Next time, tell her that you have a very handsome and strong Paratrooper with a dog. I think Trigger will like Poppy a lot.” Floyd boasted as he kept his eyes on you, leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. “Poppy will get used to Trigger, just like us.”

Every Time he’d throw a remark at you, you’d throw it back with a tint of sarcasm. You had learned how to play his game, but occasionally loosened up. Floyd wasn’t a bad guy at all, his ego was big, but he didn’t have any cruel intentions when it came to you. He treated you like a human, with feelings and emotions. He always asked about your day, how you were, made you feel better when you were sad, and did anything to make you happy. So you broke out of your ice a little and did what he did to you in return; show him kindness. You’d finally sit with him at the bar if it wasn’t busy and talked to him.

It was hard to deny, but as much as you hated it, you were falling in love with him. It was hard to resist him, his words were as smooth as silk. Whenever he’d see you, he’d call out your name and would make sure everybody knew you were his-or at least that’s what you thought. The girls you worked with in the bar tried to flirt with him, but much to your surprise, he would push them all away-just for you. All of his attention was focused on you, and only you.

You were beyond conflicted. Your head was telling you to simply be friendly and civil, but your heart was leading you to pursue this romance. You were torn between logic and emotion. One part of you loved him, one part of you hated him. You hated the way he made you feel, think, blush, and do things. Floyd was taking over your life, whether you liked it or not. Whatever you and Floyd had going on was no longer on thin ice. The two of you were deep in the water scuba diving, together.

The bar was busy at night, but tonight was different. It was less busy than usual and much quieter. The ambience was peaceful, soft souls playing in the background with the warm lights dimmed. Your manicured nails tapped at the counter as you observed the setting; some paratroopers drinking, a paratrooper cuddled with a fellow girl in town, and a waitress casually conversing with the costumors. Only a few more hours and you could finally return home with little Luna, nestled in your warm bed, alone and safe from the cruel world.

The little bell on top of the door had rang, alerting the whole bar of a new customer. You turned your head and bit your lip upon seeing the incoming danger. Great, your shift had just become a whole lot more entertaining.

Floyd was donning his new uniform, cap and gelled hair. He strutted across the bar to you, knowing that he was handsome. He knew he was hot shit and wanted to make sure everybody knew. He came up right to the bar counter and leaned against up.

“Miss y/n…” He greeted in his boyish voice, looking up and down at your figure as he usually did. He stopped at your face. You never wore makeup, and if you did, it was barely noticeable to the naked eye. However, Floyd noticed you looked different tonight. You had a bright shade of red on your lips, a light rogue pressed onto your cheeks, and a soft eyeshadow to match your (y/e/c) eyes. It was soft, just like Floyd perceived you as. “Are you wearing makeup?”

You nodded and looked down, feeling your heart skip a beat. You tried to snap back at him, but your body forced you to look and not embarrass yourself. “Yes. I suppose I try something new, to make myself look somewhat put together.”

Floyd looked puzzled at your response, “Put together? You always look gorgeous, I don’t know what you mean.”

Keeping your gaze down, you were finding it difficult to be around him. The room got darker and you felt a cold sweat overcome your body. You weren’t asking for his sympathy. Of course he saw this and found another way to flirt with you. You refused to give him the satisfaction he wanted, even though you did enjoy his kind words. You shook your head, “You don’t have to lie, Floyd.”

“I never lie. Look at me, y/n,” Floyd stated as his fingers tipped your chin up. His grasp was as light as a feather. The two of you made eye contact with each other. His fingers rested on your chin for longer than you both expected. His long fingers slided away as he caught a glimpse of your face so close, noticing all the little features about you. “You’re beautiful, without all of this and with this. I don’t know if you could deny it. If a man doesn’t find a dame like you gorgeous, then they must need glasses.”

You looked at him and back down, scrambling to find your words. Romance was something that you hated. It should have made you feel happy and left you with a good relantishop, but instead you were left with broken hearts and scared. As much as you wanted to love and be loved, it was hard to. You were scared of getting hurt again but Floyd Talbert made you reconsider. And your mind was stubborn. You didn’t want to reconsider, all you wanted to do was stay in your old ways and be alone. But how long were the two of you going to play this game of cat and mouse? How long could it go on?

Every time Floyd tried to leave you, he always ended up back at your door, hoping you’ll finally open up to him; by either literally opening her door or letting him into her heart. Floyd’s way’s, the small and big things, illustrated his dedication to winning your heart. Floyd was willing to drive for miles to end up with you, and he wished you would appreciate his effort.

“Well, I guess you need glasses then,” You smirked and turned around to fix Floyd a beer, his favorite drink. He always liked the glass to be half way since he wasn’t a real drinker, he was more of a social one. You had picked up on that after befriending him. But was he a friend? Someone who you were in love with? What was he to you, and what were you to him?

Placing the beer in front of him, you attempted to walk away, but Floyd even knew you weren’t getting away that easy.

“Sit with me,” He requested, patting the empty barstool next to him. You opened your mouth to protest, but he already beat you to it, “Nobody’s here. Just one drink, and I’ll leave you be.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked over and towards Talbert to sit across from him. Instead of patting the barstool, he was now patting his lap with a look of lust and humor. Knowing that he was teasing you, you chuckled and sat on the barstool.

“Okay, you have me now.” You said as you put your hands up, ‘Why do you want me here?”

“I wanna know the pretty dame behind all of the makeup,” Floyd responded as he pulled on his lower lip, “Tell me about you. Home, your cat, everything.”

“One minute you want to marry me, the next you want to know my life story…” You replied as you also leaned onto the counter, “If you want to know so badly, then you go first. Tell me your life story.”

And so Floyd Talbert did. He told every little detail he could about himself from his family, Kokomo, his love for fishing, his four brothers-basically, his whole life story. Floyd had no problem openly sharing his problems with the world, especially you. He was fine telling you about his dad not being present, working odd jobs in high school, not attending college-he was ok with it. He accepted and loved himself, as you could clearly see. You on the other hand couldn’t understand how open he could be with himself, in relationships and in general.

The hard front of Floyd’s boot gently kicked your heel, his toe caressing against your bare ankle. A chill was sent up your spine as you looked up at him, straightening his back.

“You seemed so interested that you started drooling,” He commented, a smirk on his face.

You gave him a puzzled expression before you could notice the sticky sensation at the corner of your lip. Groaning in embarrassment, you looked for a napkin to wipe the drool from. Before you could find a napkin, Floyd had grabbed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and grabbed your chin gently, wiping the side of your mouth. He held you like you were made of glass, easily broken by a little infraction, which was partially true.

Once Floyd removed his fingers, he handed you the handkerchief. “Here, for you.’ He slicked his honey hair back, “Some ladies would kill for that.”

Hearing the comment, you rolled your eyes and shoved it into your apron. “Hardy Har Har, thank you.”

“Ok, enough about me. What about you?” Floyd said as he scooted his chair towards you, resting his arms on the counter with his chin gliding against his palm. “I’d like to know more about my dame.”

You looked at him and back down, biting your lip. A sarcastic comeback crossed your mind, but somehow you couldn’t spit out the words. The possessive word made you freeze in place as your grasp tightened around your drink. Nobody had called you in years.

“I’m no one’s,” You stated, taking a long sip of your drink, “I’m boring. I grew up in Albourne, always have been here. I have a daughter, I like to read, smoke, I-”

“I know that, but I want to know what’s in here.” Floyd pointed a finger at your head and heart. It was sweet, and even adorable. As much as you wanted to give into his warmth, the ice that surrounded your heart began to freeze.

“Come on, darling. Don’t play so hard to get, I know it’s not easy. Just loosen up a little for once. I can tell you that I’m stubborn, just like you. I like a challenge, and I always win,” Floyd cockily stated, which only pushed your buttons. The closer he scooted his chair towards you, the more you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. “Stop being so scared and jus-”

“My goddess gracious, shut up!” You exclaimed loudly, burying your hands in your face. Floyd, respecting your wishes, shut up and was left speechless, his face contorted. What had he done wrong? He hadn’t touched you at all.

“You know, I’ve been with guys just like you. Total flirts, sleep with whoever they want and do whatever they want. They don’t care, just as long as it doesn’t affect them. God forbid If a woman does that, she’s considered a whore,” You ranted, “Guys like you are bad news. You treat us like objects that you can use and then throw out the next day. I know this game-you don’t care about me or my feelings at all, do you?” You looked away from him, holding back years, “After all, you said you wanted honesty, so there.”

Floyd was shocked at your sudden rant. He considered you sweet and quiet. This was the most he had ever heard come out of your mouth. Normally, he wouldn’t be moved by these things since they never occurred. This was his longest “flirting avvenire” he had experienced in years. His heart broke at your words. Being ashamed of himself, he attempted to fix what had been broken.

“Y/n, that’s not what you think. I know I’m like that, and it’s no excuse. But you’re…” Floyd stopped and let out an exhale with a red face, “different. When I first looked at you, I thought I died. I haven’t talked to any other dame since-you’re the only one that matters. I think about you whenever I’m not with you. Y/n, I think I lo-”

You let out a dry laugh, “Yeah. You may talk to me, make me laugh and say the sweetest things...but how many other girls are you doing that to? How many other girls have you shamed for being your property? How many girls have you slapped for looking at another man for less than a second? How many other girls have you forced yourself on and left them with a child you never wanted? Tell me, I’d love to hear.”

Floyd listened to your words carefully, analyzing them. The thought processed on his head, and instead of looking offended, his face softened. He looked sad and pained. Even though you had said a little, Floyd could piece together your past. He felt like an idiot for not knowing. No wonder you were cold and distant. From what it seemed, you had been not only physically abused, but touched without your consent and forced to take care of a child you didn’t want. Floyd felt terrible for you. It was no longer a game anymore, it was serious.

“Y/n...I’m sorry. I never knew. I feel like an idiot for not knowing. I’m not like that. I’d never do something like that I-”

“You sound just like him. All of you are the same. You put on a fake little smile and say sweet little things,” You ranted as you pushed yourself out of the chair to walk out. Floyd cursed under his breath and followed you right out, “Then bomb, under your control.”

“Y/n-”

Slamming the door open, your feet angrily stomp through the mud. You don’t care if you're sinking. You don’t know where you're going, but you want to be as far away from Floyd as possible.

You turned around and pointed a blaming finger at his chest, “Don’t interrupt me. You're so damn manipulative. From the minute you sat down, I could see that you wanted me in your bed. My biggest mistake wasn’t falling for you, it was thinking you had fallen for me.”

Floyd didn’t say anything and watched you turn over and run a hand through your neatly done up hair and makeup, which both became unruly.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. Floyd walked over and grabbed your hands in an attempt to win you back, “I know it’s cheesy, but you're changing me. I tried to move on, but I can’t. Just let me help you. I can be whatever for you. A friend, a lover, anything. I had no idea what you had gone through. Can you let me inside so I can help you?” He was serious, this was no joke to him or you, “Let’s stop this game of cat and mouse. Honesty is number one here.”

You threw his hands away and began to back away, black tears streaming from your caked face. The nice outfit, soft hair, and pretty dress all for him. It was blind ignorance. How dumb you felt and looked.

“Goodbye, Floyd.” Is all you said before you hastily turned around and left him alone. You could imagine his gorgeous face, all heartbroken. Deep inside, you hated doing this. Breaking hearts, just like Floyd did.

But you and Floyd were different. He was the archer and you were the prey in the big scheme of things. In your world, to prevent history from repeating itself, it is better to be safe than sorry.

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You always left your door unlocked. Albourne was home, you had never left in. You knew your neighbors well enough. They liked you and your bubbly little daughter enough. Whenever you’d come home from work, she would run up to your feet and smile at you. Her smile would remind you of the man that shattered your heart, but there was something special about Poppy. She was not his, but yours, the light in that dark relationship. You made sure she was loved every single day and put her happiness over yours.

Another girl had taken your shift for the night, which made you relieved. You had a whole day to yourself, and Poppy. It was an indoors day due to the heavy rain. You accomplished from cleaning with the help of Poppy, some reading, and a game of princess and dragons. You were the dragon and Poppy played the role of the princess, and her stuffed animal the prince. The way she played the prince triggered the thoughts of Floyd.

After cleaning up, Floyd would infect your mind like a parasite. After you had bid him goodbye, you hadn’t seen him since. You had seen his friends at the bar and around town, but not him. Why did you miss him? You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t stand being hurt again, even if a part of you, just a tiny one, considered feelings.

When Poppy had drifted off into a nap, you decided to go check out the rain. The garden you had built outside was weighed down by the heavy amount of train. You slowly walked into the rain as you felt your hair stick to your face and the clothes on your body become all moist. It was like taking a shower, it was beautiful. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head up and let the rain pour down your face and body.

The rain suddenly stopped falling into your mouth and clothes. Confused, you had thought it stopped raining. You opened your eyes and instead of a gray sky, you were met with the black top of an umbrella, being held by none other than Floyd Talbert.

“What are you doing in the rain?” He asked casually as he put a hand on your waist, walking with you to the cover of your house. He was drenched too, but you were soaking wet. “You’re gonna get sick.”

You blinked a few times to make sure what you were seeing and hearing was real. You stuttered and pointed at you, “Floyd...oh...I...how did you..?”

“Waitresses at The Pub. I got worried, I didn’t see you at the pub.” He explained not to sound stalkerish, “I looked everywhere for you because I needed to talk to you. Please, I know you hate me, but before I go, I might not come back. I rather tell you then die with it.”

You had forgotten there was a war that Floyd was a part of. He would soon be shipped off to Europe and be gone for forever or an indefinite amount of time. His hazel orb’s begged for your attention, and you were finding it hard to resist.

“Since you’re here...I suppose it’s only fair.” You accepted, “Go on.”

“I was thinking about what you told me, and it made me think too. I used to not do it a lot, until I met you,” He admitted, “Y/n, I know it’s crazy, but I could’ve sworn I died when I first looked at you. My heart stopped and I didn’t know what to say when you came over to me. You were sweet, quiet, and drop dead gorgeous. No other dame mattered to me, only you did. When I was with you, I only thought about you and what you wanted to do. You’re in my dreams and thoughts when I’m not with you. I think about you a lot, and...I love you, angel, as crazy as I sound.”

“I know what you’ve gone through and I’m sorry. But, I want to help you. I want to make you feel beautiful and loved. You know I’m there for you in whatever way you want, as a friend or a lover. I’m always a door away, and you know that y/n. But I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to show that to you in whatever way I can.”

You didn’t know what had triggered the kiss. Maybe it was Floyd’s speech, the hand on the small of your back, or his wet uniform. You didn’t respond with words and leaned in. Floyd didn’t protest and dived right into the kiss, his hands wrapped around your waist and back for support. The girls at your job were right, he was the best kieer you had ever met. He was gentle with you, his plump lips felt like heaven on your lips. It was a genius and heartfelt kiss. He could taste your lipstick and you could taste his cologne after the two of you had far gone.

There the two of you stood, wrapped in each other's arms as the rain poured down onto you.

You looked up and grabbed Floyd’s hand, nudging your head. “I’ll get you some warm clothes. I can make you a drink, if you please. Tea, coffee, anything.”

Floyd walked right beside you and pulled you in close for warmth. He planted a kiss on your wet hair, “You?” You looked at him with that motherly glare, which earned you a giggle. “You did say anything I wanted.”

“Well, I guess I did,” You raised your eyebrows and smiled. You leaned into his shoulder as you walked back into your little cottage, Floyd holding you close to his side.

You ended up serving him Tea. Poppy had woken up from her nap and followed Floyd around like a dog, believing that her wish of a father had come true. Floyd was intent on making Poppy’s dreams come true. Poppy would rave about the stories she wrote as you sat on Floyd’s lap, a blanket sprawled on your lap. His hand would play with the ends of your loose hair as you leaned in his chest, a soft smile on your face.

You had made dinner for three instead of two that night. As you cleaned the dishes, Floyd had read Poppy a story and sent her to sleep. He promised her that the next time he came over that she would get to meet Trigger and walk him. After Poppy had fallen asleep, Floyd came back to the kitchen and carried you to your room. The two of you got rid of your dirty clothes and left them sprawled on the ground, jumping into the bath with each other. He made sure that you were pampered that night as he washed your body and hair, massaged your back, planted kisses on your body, complimented you every other second, and did thousands of little things that would make a girl go head over heels. He took you to your bed and wrapped you in warm blankets and even made you a cup of tea. He knew he was going to get in trouble, but he stayed behind with you and cuddled with you until you fell asleep for “warmth”. It was cliche, but you absolutely loved it. Floyd’s radiance and warmth had melted away that icy barrier.

And with that, Floyd truly made you feel loved once again.

#Floyd Talbert #floyd talbert imagine #band of brothers #Floyd Talbert x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #old maroon 5 slaps #carrie's writing

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bumbleblurr · 2 years ago

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ok y'know what. Sharing my blurrbee (and blurrbee related) playlists bc i finally rearranged them so they're presentable

#most of the image covers are old art bc i havent made art recently that works well as replacements #and i generally dont like to use other ppls art for things like this #unless if its official art but i didnt rlly want to use screencaps either #anywho these are lovingly crafted playlists <3 #though i cant say. my music tastes are like super amazing #but i like to think its decent !#my philosophy for making these playlists is for songs to be one of ghe following #has lyrics that are like ''lets go fast!!'' or ''we talk a lot''. stuff that fits what the characters are/do #fits their vibes- bee has lots of jammy tunes & video game music and blurr has lots of synth and fast paced electronic action music #is a joke- blurr has misery by maroon 5 not bc it fits him as a character but bc hes a miserable lil narrative punching bag #or it just. straight up fits for who they are as a character. like emotional arcs and motivations etc #lots of thought i put into these i swear #oh also i do update them here and there so theres never rlly a. final version of these playlists #I'll hear a song and go ''oh this got blurrbee vibes'' and slap it in #oh i forgot another qualification thats rarer. song has been used in an amv with the characters akhdkfhfkf #thats why scrawny & holding out for a hero are there

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fadedredrose · 2 years ago

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MIDNIGHTS FIRST IMPRESSIONS

1. Lavender Haze - hmm it's pretty but probably won't be my favourite

2. Maroon - Love this!!! Lyrics are very old school Taylor. Very RED.

3. Anti-Hero - This makes me laugh out loud. I love how vulnerable and twisted it is and yet how there's still a twinge of humour threaded through. It has a slight 1989 feel to it.

4. Snow on the Beach ft. Lana Del Ray - I was waiting for this the most after Midnight Rain. This kind of ambient, floaty vibe is my favorite genre of Taylor Swift. It's very pretty, a cloudy white stained with a dark blue streak down the middle.

5. You're On Your Own Kid - The lyrics of this one didn't quite meet the mark for me. But I'm really feeling the beat. And the bridge slaps. Has a starry whirlwind feel to it.

6. Midnight Rain - I was waiting for this the most!! And did it disappoint? From the first beat, NO. Whatever I was expecting, Taylor served even better in this. Easily the best one on the record so far.

7. Question...? - The lyrics are so old school pre-RED era Taylor wrapped in an older Taylor persona. The staccato bridge never fails. This is a jam.

8. Vigilante Shit - I was wrong. I think this is my no. 1. But then I've always been attracted to darker, Rep style songs. I'm claiming Vigilante Shit as Rizzie's Choice from Midnights. I was expecting this was how all of Midnights would sound, but I'm cool with just one song too. Taylor, I'm gonna need a full album with this vibe one day PLEASE.

9. Bejeweled - Another banger! This one is for when I'm alone riding down empty city streets at night in winter after a rowdy outing with friends.

10. Labyrinth - Every TS album has an underated gem that only the fans enjoy. I have a feeling it's going to be this one for Midnights. It has a very This Love/You're in Love feel to it. This one's for all the die-hard romantics.

11. Karma - A Banger! I can imagine belting this out loud with my best mate at a shiny party clutching chilled glasses of coke with confetti surrounding us. This will climb the charts. An instant hit. I can't wait to memorise the lyrics to this first.

12. Sweet Nothing - I am absolutely in love with this. This one's for R and my mum. :)

13. Mastermind - The lyrics are the most relatable. 🤣 I can't deny I've done similar things in my past. The beat is brilliant too. Lyrically, this wins.

Conclusion - I was expecting Midnights to have more of a Rock vibe, but I don't think Taylor's ready to quite move on from Pop yet. The seventies vibe has hit the bull's eye; I can imagine the crowds swaying to the beats and little experimentations she's incorporated. After the slow era of Folklore and Evermore, I know most people are going to appreciate this quicker style. For me, I know I'm still a RED-reputation-Folklore-Evermore girl, but there are a few songs from Midnights that are going straight to my personal favorites.

Top 3 - Vigilante Shit, Sweet Nothing, and Karma.

#taylor swift #midnights #taylor swift midnights #midnights album #vigilante shit #lavender haze #maroon #anti-hero #snow on the beach #snow on the beach ft. lana del ray #youre on your own kid #midnight rain #question...?#bejeweled #labyrinth #karma #sweet nothing #mastermind #taylor nation

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teenuniformsports · 3 years ago

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I scared so much.

I was sitting in some sort of an English pub or café. It was pretty cold but not so much, a bright day not typical for East England autumn. I traveled thousands of miles just to get here, to make a dream come true. Sitting in a table for two, alone waiting for my Sir, Daddy, Master... you name it. As soon as I got of the airport, I changed for the outfit he instructed me to wear: skinny, simple and black suit with a purple tie and my hair fixed. I was told to wait in this place, not looking at my phone or up. I mist stare at my tights or reading a book under the table unless someone approaches me directly. Me and sir was planning this for months: he started to educate me and teach me how to be a good boy, how should I really needed to be educated when I was younger. I dreamed about this moment for at least 3 years. The exact same moment, when I accidentally got my head up from my book, I saw him. Middle aged man, in a formal suit and looks like a real old dad: professional and manly. “You were told not to look up boy.” “Sorry sir” I replied .

“Don’t talk without permission, I thought you know that” I got a little bit panicked. “Calm down boy” I drank water, what a boy should drink while we talked about each other, mostly me about myself and what I want to do for the next months and a half. “What’s in your suit case boy?” He asked. “My boy suit, some pairs of shoes, and my previous adult outfit sir. along with bath and hygiene stuff sir”.

“Good boy, you understand that you won’t see most of your belongings for the next 7 weeks boy?”

I knew that he knows about our safety words and my limits but I still was scared and excited from what he will do to me.

“Go to the toilet and change to your boy suit boy”

I did as he said. I got with my suitcase to the toilet, opened it and changed with sir outside of the door. My boxer briefs was changed for traditional Y Whites. My long black skinny pants gave away his place for grey shorts that got down only 1-2 inches below my crotch, leaving almost my hole thighs bare and without any cloth covering it while highlights my buttock. I replaced my black jacket in a school jacket matches to my long, grey-maroon socks and my new maroon tie. I asked sir quietly: “Sir?”

“Yes boy?”

“May I ask sir a question?”

“Yes boy”

“What shoes I should wear sir? I have 2 pairs sir”

I was already with my school shoes and I had also my Roman sandals. It was cold already.

“Wear your sandals boy”

I putted my sandals on my pulled up knee socks. Finished. I got out of the toilet with my head facing down. I was ashamed. A grown up young man looks like someone at least 4-5 years below him. My legs god cold. My feet looked strange in socks and sandals. We got out and I suffered some weird looks. Sir took my suitcase and got it to his car while I stood there quietly looking down at my sandaled feet. My legs were frozen compared to my 3 layered body. I got into the back seat as he told me and looked through the window, like a child. We drove abound 15 minutes to a some kind of a small department store. I got out of the car only after sir did so. Sir stopped me before we got into the store: “Until we’re done, your name will be William, a proper name for a good boy. Understood?”. I nodded.

“Good boy” he replied and slapped my butt cheek.

We entered the store and I realized where we are: school shop.

“Boy we have many things to do today before we get home. First we are going to buy you your clothes here, than there is another shop and another one.

We entered the store. A smell of old wood stood there and hinted about the era that has gone in education. Sir talked with the seller so I can’t hear what is going to happen. The two of them approached me:

“Boy, take down your clothes and leave your underwear on.” The seller said.

I did as he ordered

“Good boy”

I stood in place for over than two hours measuring 6 pairs of shorts that were pretty similar to the pair I had: short and tight. 3 grey ones, one beige one navy and one black.

After that I was measured to get me the shirts best for me in white. 3 ties and 8 pairs of knee high socks. Two jackets and three sweatshirts and one bow tie. Ofcourse sir bought me underwear just like I wore.

“Leave your socks on boy”

The seller said.

He led me and sir into a different room with tens types of school shoes from all kinds.

Sir said something to the seller while I was sitting in my uniform and socks. A few minutes after the seller came back with few shoe boxes. I tried t bar sandals, Roman sandals, school shoes and formal shoes.

There was one box left with a pink sticker on him. All the other boxes has blue stickers and I got suspicious.

What is he going to do to me?

The seller got out of the box a pair of girl flats.

“What is this?!” I accidentally said

“Boy... I said no talking until I say you can, you will be punished for your rudeness”

“Sorry sir” I answered

“Shut up boy or I would punish you harder”

I stopped talking and looked at my bare thighs.

The seller got me my shoes and checked them. It must be a big size for girls shoes, I thought to myself.

“We finished here boy, wait for me near the door”

Sir and the seller talked and summed up the purchase.

After a short drive we arrived to a small store with a covered front window.

Sir and me got entered and a lady started talking to sir.

I could hear them talking:

“He’s new here.... he’s my..... yes 14..... that will be a great idea....”

I looked around and saw pictures of guys in Scottish kilts and I understood what is about to happen next.

Sir approached me and said

“Get undressed, everything.”

My legs started to shake while I got off my uniform and folded it on the chair.

The lady came back with a lot of stuff in her hands.

A few moments later I was covered with a skirt, shirt, tie, sweater and a jacket along side with knee socks and formal shoes.

An hour passed with some adjustments while I wasn’t wearing underwear.

“It was a pleasure” the lady said after we finished, “see you later!”

I was tired and shamed to walk in the street full of people in shorts and long socks.

We were back in the car and arrived the last place. A sign showed we were in a dancing academy.

We got in while some girls and one boy seemed 13-12 of age stared my weird outfit.

A lady got me and sir into an office.

Sir started talking:

“This is William and he’s 14. I want him to train in ballet while he’s in town for the next weeks. Do you have lessons for him during the day and the afternoon?”

I tried to hide my shock. That’s wasn’t the plan for my next 2 months. But I couldn’t do anything.

Sir continued talking “he is during the day and he will be glad to have daily private or group classes”

The teacher answered: “yes ofcourse, he can do private lessons in the mornings everyday, and continue to learn in his group age in the afternoon or he will have some other private class from Monday to Saturday.”

I wondered what sir is planning. I was worried about how things are evolving.

I was looking at my thighs and wasn’t listening to sir and the teacher’s conversation. Sir slapped me in the back and said “come on boy”.

We got out of the academy and turned into a dancing wear store that was located near by.

Once again I was alone there only with a seller and sir that watched me naked wearing ballet uniforms and dancing gear. I was ashamed and exhausted. Walking around the city with my uniform attracted some attention.

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the-red-mafia · 2 years ago

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The Dinner Party

Zaeor finally shows back up at the mansion with a mission, one that the majority of the mafia finds...wrong. When he forces them to go on the mission anyways, things start to go south. Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia Next Update: [Updated] Word Count: 3734

A week after “The Repairs”

The dining hall was filled with noise as Thorn weaved through the crowds of guests. They carefully dodged small children jumping excitedly next to their parents, somehow managing to balance the tray of appetizers on its hand.

“Damn, I might have a career in waitressing if this Red Mafia thing goes south,” he muttered under his breath.

“Not the time Thorn,” Velvet’s voice came into Thorn’s ear from aer comms, “Remember, you’re on the lookout for Elizabeth.”

“I know, I know,” Thorn replied, rolling their eyes.

“And keep an eye on Maroon too,” Mad added, “They have a tendency to get kidnapped on undercover missions.”

“That was one time!” Maroon whispered angrily into their earpiece. Laughter came from the other side of the comms. Solana lightly slapped the back of Velvet's head.

“Hey!” Velvet called out in protest, “What was that for?”

“You’re distracting them, get off comms.” Mad laughed and muted Velvet’s microphone.

“There you go, I’ve saved you all from Velvet’s incessant nagging,” The droid said. Thorn chuckled.

“Velvet says to get to the kitchen Maroon, apparently the waitresses are preparing to start serving the food,” Solana stated, “Also Velvet is very mad at you, Mad.”

“Isn’t that ironic,” Mad joked. Thorn looked across the dining hall to where Maroon was stationed. The younger teen had a dark look on their face as they started to drudge towards the kitchen doors. Thorn knew why.

“Are you guys sure this is the only option?” It whispered. Mad sighed.

“We’ve been over this a hundred times, Thorn, yes.”

“But- what if it goes wrong? What if we got the dosage wrong? What-”

“Thorn, cut it out,” Solana came through on the comms, “You’re going to psych Maroon out, drop it.”

“Trust me Thorn, no one wants to do this. If there was another option, we wouldn’t be doing this,” Mad said sympathetically, “Just keep watch on the kitchen doors and be ready to go assist Maroon.”

“I know the plan.”

Zaeor had arrived at the mansion that morning with a mission, the first one in 5 weeks. While his arrival was a surprise it wasn’t unexpected. The mission? Poison an 8 year old.

“What?!” Mad yelled, “There’s no way-”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Zaeor said, remaining calm, “You guys will be administering a small non-lethal dose of Brimstone to Elizabeth Montoya. It’ll be enough to allow you to trap Yuo and get the location of Mika.”

“Who now?” Maroon asked, “Who are those people?”

“People you don’t have to worry about,” Velvet said hastily, causing the whole team to turn to look at her.

“But-”

“You don’t need to know Maroon.” Mad sighed.

“They’re evil people, a lot like Unor,” the droid said. A chill went down Maroon’s spine at the mention of the C.E.O.

“There’s more Unor’s?” Thorn exclaimed. Zaeor nodded solemnly.

“You guys will need to infiltrate the Charity Gala tonight. I’m sorry about the short notice but I just found out Yuo is attending. It’ll probably be best if someone goes undercover to place the poison in Elizabeth’s food.”

“Welp, guess you’re up Velvet,” Mad said. Velvet rolled her eyes.

“Actually, I think Velvet should stay on the sidelines this time.” Velvet turned towards Zaeor.

“Huh?” Zaeor sighed.

“You’ve been spotted by multiple people over the past few weeks during your…shenanigans. In fact you were in the news just a few minutes ago. Getting recognized will only complicate matters.”

“Then who are you sending in?”

“Maroon.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Thorn asked, “You’re doing what?”

“Maroon is the most experienced in sneaking around out of all of you, excluding Velvet but we already covered that.”

“I’m experienced?” Solana mumbled under their breath.

“In hand-to-hand combat, yes. But we’ll need you later on in my plan.”

“What exactly is your plan?” Thorn asked, narrowing aer eyes at the god.

“Maroon will go undercover as one of the servers during the charity gala. Before the meals are served, they will slip a vial of Brimstone into Elizabeth Montoya’s food. As the guests mingle after they eat, Maroon will lead Elizabeth, who at this time will begin to get nauseous and fatigued, to a back room where Velvet and Solana will be waiting. Velvet, I think you know what you’ll do from there.”

“Why’s Solana there? Velvet replied, “I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” Zaeor began, “But we can’t afford any mistakes and you’ve never been the best at hand-to-hand combat, which Yuo is known for. With Solana there if things go south they can help you keep Yuo in control.”

“And why the hell do we need to poison a child?!” Mad interrupted, crossing their arms. Zaeor turned to the upset assistance droid and gave them a soft smile.

“Mad, I know this whole plan goes against your programming but trust me when I say it’s necessary,” he said softly, attempting to calm Mad down.

“Why is it necessary?” Mad persisted, “Why is it necessary to endanger a child that isn’t even involved in this?”

“She is involved,” Velvet said, leaning back in their chair, “Trust me when I say that in these families everyone is involved.” Mad looked at the teen before shaking its T.V. head.

“You confuse me Velvet,” they muttered, “I’m guessing that you’ve been in a similar position as Elizabeth and yet you’re totally ok with possibly killing her. Think about it: How different would your life have been if-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Velvet growled, standing up out of her chair and slamming her hands on the table.

“Sit down, Velvet,” Zaeor commanded. Velvet looked at him and then sat back down while sending a glare towards Mad.

“How is Elizabeth related to this Yuo guy?” Solana asked.

“They’re siblings, half siblings technically. Yuo took custody of Elizabeth after her parents died a couple months ago and he really cares for her. It is the only way to guarantee that he’ll listen is to get to her.”

“And this is why we don’t get attached to people,” Velvet said sarcastically, folding their arms.

“Velvet you know better than to say that,” Zaeor said, a frown on his face as he looked at the team’s leader, “Attachments are an important part of working as a team.” Velvet looked as if they wanted to argue but stayed quiet.

“Does everyone understand the plan?” Zaeor asked, smiling.

“I’m going with Maroon,” Thorn declared, crossing its arms. Zaeor narrowed his eyes.

“Thorn, I don’t think-”

“Why not? You didn’t work me into that little ‘plan’ of yours anyways.” The god looked at Thorn before sighing.

“Fine, I’ll make the proper adjustments. It will probably be better for Maroon to have help anyway.”

“Great, I’m glad we agree,” Thorn said through gritted teeth.

“I still don’t like this plan,” Mad muttered. Velvet rolled her eyes.

“Whatever Mad, this is what has to happen.”

“There’s always another way.”

“..No there’s not?”

“Mad if it makes you feel any better,” Zaeor began, “I’ve carefully calculated the dosage and the chance of Elizabeth’s death is close to zero.”

“But it’s not zero, is it?” Mad demanded, “Because you can’t guarantee that an 8-year-old doesn’t die.”

“I’ve killed younger,” Velvet commented, earning exasperated looks from Mad, Thorn and Maroon.

“8-year-olds are executed all the time on my home planet, sometimes sacrifices need to be made,” Solana added. Zaeor nodded.

“I hate this plan as much as you guys do-”

“I don’t hate it,” Velvet interrupted.

“That’s because you’re a soulless bastard,” Thorn spat out. Zaeor stared at Velvet, who just shrugged.

“I mean-”

“As I was saying,” Zaeor interrupted, cutting off Thorn and Velvet’s argument, “The charity gala begins at 6pm and it’ll probably be best to get there early to scout the area and allow Maroon and Thorn to begin blending in. I suggest leaving at around 3 or so as it’s an hour long trip.”

“We’ll leave in an hour,” Velvet said, standing up, “Suit up everyone.” The shadow god stared at Velvet.

“Uh..Velvet? It’s only 10 am,” he commented.

“So? I want as much time to scout and prep.”

“I think 6 hours is a bit too much prep time.”

“There’s never too much prep time Zaeor-”

“Umm, Velvet?” Maroon stuttered out, causing the entire room to look at them, “Is there, um, anyway I could get more time to, uh, mentally prepare here?” Maroon was looking at the floor, rubbing their hands together nervously. Velvet looked at the kid with a hint of sympathy in her eyes before sighing.

“Fucking fine, we’ll leave at 3. I’m going to my room,” the assassin mumbled, walking out of the room. Zaeor let out a small chuckle before standing up out of his seat.

“Well, that’s settled. I wish you all the best of luck, you’re dismissed. Except for you, Maroon. I want to talk to you privately,” the god said, smiling at the youngest, but technically oldest, mafia member. Maroon remained seated as the rest of the mafia exited the room. Thorn gave Maroon a reassuring smile as they walked behind them. Once everyone had left, Zaeor stood. He walked behind Maroon and put a hand on their shoulder. Maroon flinched slightly and Zaeor gave them a reassuring smile.

“Maroon, do you know why I wanted you to be the one on this mission?” The horned God asked. Maroon shook their head.

“Because of your powers, kiddo!” he said cheerfully, “Your mushrooms are often poisonous and therefore you have experience with lethal substances. Velvet does too but uh…we’ve already been over why she can’t.” Maroon nodded, once again rubbing their hands together nervously.

“Maroon, I know you’re nervous. That feeling is valid and you’re not alone. Everyone wishes this wasn’t how it has to be but we have to be prepared to do bad things for a good cause.”

That’s rich, Maroon thought to themself, but nodded anyway.

“That’s the spirit, kiddo! Now where did I put it…” The god rummaged in his pockets, looking for something. Eventually he pulled out a vial about the size of a glue stick. It was about half-way full with a liquid that glistened in the sunlight that came through the giant window at one end of the conference room. Maroon couldn’t pinpoint a single colour of the liquid, as it seemed to shift colours based on the angle the viewer looked at it. This quality reminded Maroon of a type of beetle they’d seen in a book a few days ago. Being from the 1800s, Maroon didn’t know much about the current time and relied on Solana, Velvet, and books taken from the Mansion’s library to learn things about the new world they’d basically just entered into. Zaeor turned Thorn’s chair towards Maroon and sat down. The god held out the vial in the palm of his hand for Maroon to see.

“This,” he began, “Is Brimstone. Am I correct to assume that you’ve never seen it before?” Maroon nodded slightly.

“The poison itself is pretty safe when ingested by adults and those without pre-existenting respiratory issues, but it’s skin contact that is painful. Painful blisters quickly form on the place where contact was made. These blisters are also itchy, so the subject makes it even worse.”

“Wait, why is that the poison you chose? It sounds non-fatal.”

“Well you see, Maroon, that is what Brimstone does to those without pre-existing conditions. In these people, when Brimstone is ingested the blisters form inside of the subject’s esophagus and digestive system. These blisters pop easily and cause internal bleeding and fill the lungs with blood.” Maroon stared in shock at Zaeor.

“That’s…that’s horrible! Why is that what you chose to use?!” Maroon demanded.

“Simple: it’s one of the most well known and well studied poisons in the universe. There is an antidote and clear recovery plan for those who are hospitalized for Brimstone poisoning and it is referred to as fax dolor in the medical community.”

“‘Torch pain’,” Maroon translated, earning a smile from the god of shadows.

“Does Velvet know you speak Latin?”

“No, sir.”

“Oh, don’t call me sir. That feels weird,” Zaeor chuckled. Maroon laughed nervously along with him.

“Anyways, here’s the vial,” the god said, handing over the glass prison of poison, “I’ll be giving the antidote to Solana to administer to Elizabeth after Velvet does their thing.”

“What does Velvet need to do?”

“None of your concern.” Maroon wanted to push the matter, but realized it would be a pointless venture. The mushroom maniac stared solemnly at the vial in their hands, lost in thought about their mission. Zaeor sighed and stood up out of his chair.

“Welp,” he began, “I should go talk to Solana. Good luck, I’m sure you won’t let me down.” Maroon watched as he walked out of the room. After a few moments, Thorn walked into the meeting room once more. “Hey Maroon,” he started, “You doing ok?”

“I don’t know.” Thorn walked over and sat in its chair once more.

“That’s fair. But I’ll be with you every step of the way, ok?” Maroon smiled slightly at their friend.

“Thanks, Thorn.”

“No problem. Anyway, do you wanna go to the living room? This chair is so goddamn uncomfy.” Thorn said, trying and failing to get comfortable in the meeting room’s chairs.

“Y-yeah lets do that.” Maroon and Thorn got up and walked through the mansion to the TV room.

“C’mon, I think the DVR recorded some Johnny Darlington reruns.” Thorn called to them, patting the seat next to him

“Why didn't you lead with that?” Maroon said, hopping over the back of the couch. Thorn chuckled and grabbed the remote, clicking it onto the show.

“Maroon, I gotta ask: why do you like Johnny Darlington so much?” Thorn looked at their fungal friend. After thinking for a few moments, Maroon sighed.

“I suppose it's because… he always succeeds in his endeavours,” They said, pausing for a moment. Thorn looked at them expectantly as they leaned their head on aer shoulder.

“No matter how hard the mission, he always succeeds. I suppose that I use him as my sort of…” Maroon gestured wildly as if trying to conjure the word from thin air, “role model? Especially in this job where one slip up, one mistake, could cost people their lives, it's a good aspiration to have.”

“Dude, you’ve put too much thought into this advertisement campaign for a shitty arcade, pizza place thing,” Thorn stated, chuckling. Maroon sat back up and stared at their friend.

“Wait, what? Johnny Darlington is an advertisement campaign?”

“Wait, did you seriously not know?” Thorn said, “You have got to be the smartest idiot I’ve ever met, and we’ve both met Fawn.”

“You’re messing with me, there’s no way.”

“I swear I’m not, here I’ll ask Mad,” Thorn yelled, “Mad! Can you come in here?”

“What is it, Thorn?” Mad said as they walked into the room. The robot had their cooking apron on, as it had just started making lunch for the group.

“Johnny Darlington is an advertisement campaign right?” Thorn asked, gesturing towards the episode that was currently playing on the T.V..

“Yep! It's an ad campaign for Admiral Wilde’s Pizza and Arcade Complex, founded in 2240 by Admiral Wilde. It suffered because of some scandal about the amount of kids who went mis-”

“Ok, ok, jeez, I just wanted to prove it to Maroon. I didn't want a history lesson, Wiki-Bot,” Thorn said, interrupting the robot’s sentence.

“It's scarily similar to FNAF!”

“You said this last time, no one knows what that is!” Thorn yelled.

“You people are all so uncultured,” Mad mumbled as they turned to walk back into the kitchen.

“‘Back in my day’-” Thorn said mockingly.

“I hear that!” Mad called from the next room, causing the two teens to burst into loud laughter. Maroon listened as Thorn and Mad kept bickering between the rooms. Their conversation was almost enough for them to completely forget about their upcoming task…almost.

Maroon took a shaky breath and pushed open the kitchen door. It was busy, of course, and no one batted an eye when they entered. They looked like just another server, after all.

“Ok Maroon, there should be a door at the end of this room on your left. That’s where they are prepping the kids’ meals,” Mad dictated through comms. Maroon absorbed the scene of the stainless steel chaos and quickly found the door Mad had described. They dodged countless cooks as they made their way to the back and slid through the door. The room was empty, except for dozens of bowls filled with spaghetti.

“Talk about carb overload,” Maroon mumbled, “Mad, how do I know which one is Elizabeth’s?”

“I have a chart with how they’re organizing the meals, give me a sec.” Eventually Mad guided Maroon to a dish colored a light baby blue color. Maroon stood over the spaghetti with one hand in their pocket, holding the vial of Brimstone. The teen froze, staring down at the bowl for several seconds.

“Maroon?” Mad asked, “Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“I…I…” Maroon stuttered.

“Maroon, it’s going to be ok. None of us want to do this but we have to. And plus, the chances of Elizabeth dying are very low.”

“I-I know but-” Maroon paused. Their vision went blurry, as if they weren’t wearing their glasses. The noises of the chaotic kitchen seemed to fade and Maroon heard a ringing in their ear that drowned out all other sound. They could hear Mad talking into the comms but they couldn’t make out what the droid was saying. Their breathing quickened and Maroon placed a hand on the table to steady themself. Moments passed and Maroon’s breathing became more and more labored. Suddenly, a hand appeared on Maroon’s shoulder. They looked over to see Thorn looking at them worriedly. Thorn gave them a reassuring smile and held out aer other hand.

“Here, give it to me,” they said, “I’ll do it.”

“W-what?”

“Give me the vial, I’ll put it in the food.”

“But…”

“Maroon, I’ll do it.” Maroon stared at Thorn and pulled the vial out of the pocket. Thorn took the vial and opened it.

“Which one is it?” Maroon pointed at the blue bowl. Thorn nodded and began pouring the colorful liquid into the spaghetti. In a few seconds the vial was empty and Thorn let out a sigh.

“Thank gods that’s over,” he mumbled, shoving the vial into one of his pockets, “Come on, let’s-”

“Hey, you two! Newbies!” A loud, booming voice yelled from behind them. The two teens jumped slightly and quickly turned around to see a slimmer man in a tuxedo standing there, arms crossed. They were insanely tall, taller than Maroon. They had a scowl on their face as they glared at the duo with a glare on level with Velvet’s.

“What the fuck are you doing standing around? We’re starting to serve! Grab those trays and go deliver them!”

“Yes sir!” The two teens quickly grabbed the trays and walked out of the room and through the kitchen once more. Maroon’s breathing had returned to normal and they put on a fake smile to keep their cover. Thorn followed suit and the two parted ways once they entered the main eating hall. The patrons were all seated at the table smiling and laughing and talking to each other. Thorn quickly realized that it had Elizabeth’s bowl on its tray. They tensed up, almost dropping the tray because of it. Thorn walked around the table, handing out bowls according to the seating chart that was placed on one of the trays. The only bowl that remained was Elizabeth’s and the only child was a bubbly, natural red-head sitting on the seat in front of where Thorn stood.

“Is that mine?” The girl asked happily, “It looks so good! Thank you server-person!” Thorn’s smile wavered as they set the bowl in front of Elizabeth, who promptly grabbed a fork and dug in. Thorn quickly turned on aer heels as tears began to form in aer eyes. The rest of the mission went by smoothly. Maroon led the sickly Elizabeth to where Velvet and Solana were waiting. Thorn then passed the pre-written note to Yuo, who was sitting at the head of the table. He had brown hair and bright purple eyes that were unnatural for a human. Then again, was he even human? Thorn successfully lead Yuo to the room where Velvet quickly took over with her sword. Solana quickly administered the antidote to a now unconscious Elizabeth. By the time the elf had finished, Yuo began to cause some commotion and swung a punch at Velvet’s head. Solana rushed Thorn and Maroon, with Elizabeth in tow, out of the room to place Elizabeth back where someone could find her. Before long the Red Mafia met back on the Umbrella and began heading back to the mansion. Thorn guessed that Velvet had ended up killing Yuo, due to the amount of blood on their and Solana’s uniforms. The ride back was quiet, no one really addressed anything from the mission. By the time they had returned to the mansion, Maroon was already asleep. Thorn carried them to their room while everyone else retired to their rooms for the night.

It was about 7am when Velvet sat down and turned on the news, as they typically did in the morning.

“Good morning everyone, I am sssssssadly ssssstarting thisssss morning’ssss broadcast off with a ssssssssickening sssssstory from last nightssssss Beuata Charity Gala,” Kelly Mogusse muttered, a solemn tone in her voice. Velvet stopped trying to open their energy drink and put their focus on the T.V. screen.

“I am devassssstated to report that Yuo Montoya, C.E.O. of Markla Incorprated, hasssss been found dead with multiple sssssstab woundssss and a ssssslit neck. Authoritesssss sssssussspect foul play but are refusssssing to releassssse any information at thissssss time,” Kelly reported with a slight sniffle.

“Heyyy, I did that!” Velvet said, a smirk on their face, “Way to go me.” She returned to opening their drink until the news told her something that recaptured her interest.

“Shortly after Yuo Montoya wasssss found dead, hissss sssissster, Elizabeth Montoya, also died after the gala due to complications with food poisoning.”

#/the red mafia #/trm part 2 #/chapter 019 #/thorn alviar #/velvet #/velvet bolton #/mad valentine #/maroon #/maroon pembrooke #/solana roison #/solana #/zaeor #/the dinner party

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by-nina · 3 years ago

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Sunday

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 2 – Serene Rating: K+ Genre: Romance/Fluff Word Count: 1,640

A/N: Dedicated to my good pal @candidhart, whose big and sexy brain first came up with the idea of Royai playfighting in bed. Song inspiration: "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5. Enjoy!

Roy reaches for her in search of comfort. His slow, trembling fingers brush her hair away from her face and behind her ear, and he releases a deep, tense breath. He is now relaxed as well, maybe even enough to go back to sleep and keep soaking in her warmth for another hour or—

"AHH—!"

———

When he wakes warm in his bed and entangled in a woven blanket he has owned most of his life, Roy knows at once that it is Sunday morning. While he is half-asleep, he doesn't question the unusual weight on the other side of the bed, or the way his body is curved to make room for company that he isn't used to having. It takes another moment for him to remember that this isn't right. This isn't something he had planned.

This simply isn't done.

His eyes snap open, and what he sees before him is a perfect painting right out of his dreams. His confidante, his Lieutenant, his Riza, sound asleep in the sunlight that comes in from the window behind him. It's a wonder the sun hasn't blinded her awake. She is a wonder. Her hair shines in the light like pure gold, draped over her bare arm which looks deceptively gentle at rest—all of her does.

"Serene" isn't a word that Roy (or anyone, really) would typically use to describe Riza Hawkeye. In this moment, it's the best word he has. Even her breathing is so quiet that he would have missed it under the faint birdsong outside his window if he weren't paying attention. He shifts the slightest inch closer to hear it better; he thinks he catches her heartbeat as well.

Roy is no fool. He knew just as well as Riza did that this was bound to happen eventually. What else could their heartfelt conversations and comfortable silences have led to? What other consequence is there for trusting each other so wholly that they've needed to be careful not to give too much of themselves in doing so? And yet the foregone conclusion does not negate how he feels right now, and all that is is nervous. Every part of him shakes down to the bones; every noise rings in his head in spite of his quiet bedroom.

Nervous because in spite of the evidence before him, this couldn't possibly be happening, and goodness knows what situation he will actually wake up to once he comes to his senses;

Or because this is real, and he truly is lying next to Riza, and she has never been like this with him—or (he selfishly hopes) with anyone, for that matter—and no matter how blissful the moment is, it will end, and they will never allow themselves to make the same blessed mistake again;

Or perhaps because Roy has never cared for anyone like he cares for Riza, but what will she think? What will she say? What will she be like when she wakes up and finds that they have crossed the line they swore to never cross, that they have risked everything that they have devoted their lives to?

The thought terrifies him.

Roy reaches for her in search of comfort. His slow, trembling fingers brush her hair away from her face, behind her ear, and he releases a deep, tense breath. He is now relaxed as well, maybe even enough to go back to sleep and keep soaking in her warmth for another hour or—

"AHH—!"

Next thing he knows, he is on the floor with a throbbing cheek, and Riza is sitting up on his bed, eyes wide and alert, panting, holding up his blanket against her body with the same fist she had decked him with. It takes them both a second to realize what has happened. Then Roy winces as he falls back, leaning limply against the side of his bed, and the expression on Riza's face turns into one of panic and concern.

"Roy—Colonel! I didn’t mean to—"

Riza scrambles off the bed and leans in closely to check the damage. She pushes Roy's hand away from the bruise now forming on his cheek, exclaiming—"Did that hurt? Are you all right?"

Another moment passes before they realize that she hasn't let his hand go. Their eyes meet—or, Riza's eyes meet Roy's, because he hasn't looked away since she came up face to face with him. Her expression changes again, this time displaying shock and disbelief over what they had done. She withdraws from him, pulls back her hand.

"I'm sorry," Riza breathes shakily. "This was a mistake. We shouldn't have let this happen. You and I..."

Roy has been afraid of this as well. He has carried the fear with him long before they even came dangerously close to breaking all the rules. And although the mistake has long lingered on their horizon, it's the prospect of losing Riza because of it that he cannot fathom. Even now, he is afraid that he is already losing her before she has even put any physical distance between them.

And so, he smiles.

Riza stares at him disbelievingly, apprehensively. "What are you—"

Then she half-screams, half-laughs as Roy attacks her sides, fingers running and jabbing playfully from under her arms all the way down to her hips. It never occurred to him that Riza could be so ticklish, but wherever his hands go, she seems to only cry out more loudly. She has fallen to the ground, defenseless—almost as startling as his new discovery. Then she's kicking in the air involuntarily, pushing him and thumping away at his shoulders and arms without quite hurting him. Roy begins to crack up as well.

“Roy Mustang!” Riza yelps amid gasps of breath and laughter, “I swear I’m gonna—!”

“You’re gonna what, Hawkeye?”

In one swift motion, Riza catches him by the wrists and flips him over, straddling his belly to pin him down with his back on the floor. Roy pushes, but Riza quickly goes for his ribs—now he is the one in raucous fits of laughter, writhing and twisting as though it will hide the ticklish parts of his body out of her reach. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots one of his pillows perched on the edge of the bed. He makes a grab for it, but Riza is quicker than he is, and suddenly she is alternating between smacking him with the pillow and tickling him wherever she can touch him.

He is helpless between the pillow and her hands, but not for long—“Stop—I’m warning you—!”

Roy reaches for the small of her back and the back of her neck all at once, and the effect is instantaneous. Riza flinches and shrieks and she's distracted enough to drop the pillow. He takes the chance to pull her down towards him. His fingers drum against her body, eliciting her laughter, and then he rains kiss after kiss on her neck, then her ear, then her cheek. Riza giggles at each turn, then slaps the floor repeatedly to signify surrender, to get him to stop. Soon, she gives in; she kisses him right back.

Roy doesn't quite remember how he held Riza the night before, or how he kissed her, but he'd die before he forgets the way she is now. Riza is dressed down to her underwear and one of his old shirts, hair undone and untamed. Her lips are sweet and passionate against his, beautiful with the smile she wears, and he loves her like he has loved nothing in this whole world.

At long last, they break away from that blissful silence. First, they exchange a glance, then they smile tentatively, like they've just realized for the first time what they feel for each other. Roy reaches up to Riza and tucks her hair behind her ear. She strokes his unbruised cheek gently with her thumb.

"Good morning, beautiful," he says softly.

"Good morning.”

Riza kisses him once more, then slowly rolls off and lowers herself onto the floor next to him. He pulls her close so she can lay her head on his chest. As she does, she reaches across him and grasps his free hand tightly. Roy feels her heartbeat through their clothes, and he knows that Riza’s mind is wandering; she isn’t quite there with him now. He gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

After a while, she says, "Was that you trying to get back at me for punching you?"

“I can’t even court-martial you for that when you and I are clearly guilty of a graver offense.”

Riza lets out a short, dry laugh. "So what was that about, then?”

"I couldn't be sure at first that you were actually lying next to me, and that I wasn’t dreaming. It seemed too good to be true." A pause. His voice drops to nearly a whisper. “I want to keep waking up like this—next to you, hearing you laugh. Even if it's... complicated, even if there's still so much ahead of us, I've decided that I don’t want us to worry about how we can get through this. I don't need to worry as long as I have you."

Roy can tell that she spends the following moment deep in thought. There is hesitation in her breath, a slight tension in her shoulders. Then, Riza slides her fingers between Roy’s, pressing her entire body into his by the slightest inch. He knows the way she thinks; this is Riza standing still in the eye of the storm, struggling to navigate their quiet in search of serenity. But to Roy, there is nothing to be afraid of, because if there’s anything he knows from the way she has stood by his side all this time and from the perfect way she fits into him now, it’s that Riza isn’t going anywhere.

She asks much later, "Should I make us breakfast?"

He turns and buries his face in her hair, already half-asleep again when he responds.

"Stay. It's Sunday. We could just stay here a little longer."

#Royai Week #Royai Week 2021 #RoyaiWeek21 #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Royai #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Day 2 - Serene #fanfiction #fanfic #one-shot #romance #fluff #writing #written by nina

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antihero-writings · 3 years ago

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Before it Kills You Too (Ch2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3)

Fandom: Lore Olympus

Chapter Summary: When Hera gets into a car accident after a fight, Zeus has a moment to ruminate on their relationship. Written using the song “Wait” by Maroon 5 as a prompt.

Character Focus: Zeus

Please note!! This is the previous Ch2 snippets I posted + a new snippet (the new snippet starts with “I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”)

I’ve been having trouble with this chapter for a very long time, so I’ve decided to post it snippet-by-snippet, because that seems like the only way I’ll successfully finish this fic.

While this should be as close to the final version as it can be, anything in this snippet is subject to change when the full chapter comes out. (And, hey, to that end, if there’s anything you think needs to be edited here, please kindly let me know!!)

Im really excited about this snippet!! Definitely one of my favorite parts of the chapter!!

Thanks again SO much to those who support this fic and want to read more!! The fact that you want to read more really does mean the world to me!! I appreciate your kind comments so much!!

I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a comment and/or reblog!!! I’m not kidding when I say that makes my week!!

Tagging some folks who’ve shown interest!! @jayyy007 @autumnmoon21 @sunsetsofanemoia, @lynnie51 @what-the-fuckaroni @masquejj

And please do let me know if you’d like me to add you to a taglist for this fic, or message you when new snippets/the next chapter come/s out!!

Chapter 2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3:

Hera was standing in the crowded meadow, surrounded by her friends, laughing that girly little giggle full of sunshine that just about made Zeus’ heart ooze in a puddle out of his chest.

Her blue dress made her eyes look like two shimmering sapphires.

“Have I seen her in a dress that color?” Zeus inquired excitedly from behind the bushes.

“How can we know what you’ve seen?” Aidoneus muttered. “With you creeping around, you might have seen her naked for all we know.”

Zeus punched him in the arm, (lightly).

“I don’t think she’s worn a dress that color!” Posiedon bubbled.

“Thank you, Posiedon. At least someone can answer a question.”

“I think she looks like the sea on summer day.” He put his hands on his face, them sliding slowly.

Zeus eyed him. “Alright, keep it in your toga, Little Green Man.”

“Should we really be here?” Aidoneus muttered. “We weren’t invited.”

“Oh come on,” Zeus stood up, putting his hands on his hips. “Who wouldn’t want to see the King of the gods here?”

Poseidon grinned and stood up behind his brother. “No one!”

“Hestia, Demeter… assorted sane people.” Hades muttered as he stood to follow.

“If that’s sanity I’m glad I’m insane.” Zeus trilled as he strutted up to the entrance.

A cute pink nymph—(rather well endowed in the chestal region—not that he noticed!)—greeted them at the archway.

“Oh! Zeus!” She flushed and bowed. “It’s an honor. Welcome!”

“Why it’s an honor to meet you, my lady.” He kissed her hand, and she giggled. “See?” he turned to his brothers. “They’re delighted to have us.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” Hades muttered.

Hera was closer now; she smelled like summer, and she looked like it too. Poseidon was right about the ocean thing; she practically shimmered as she spoke with her friends.

“I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Wait—!” Hades was soon swallowed by the crowd.

Zeus scooched behind her at lightning speed. One by one her friends began to take notice, their eyes widening.

Hera took a step back and would have tripped in surprise if he hadn’t caught her.

“Careful there, you might fall, Birthday Girl.”

“Oh, Zeus!” She looked up at him, the back of her head hitting his chest, “hi!”

That golden smile.

“I made you something!” As she spun to face him, he produced a little carving of a bird from his pocket. (And, no, he didn’t make it).

“Oh!” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, gently taking it from him, “It’s beautiful!”

All his responsibilities and stresses melted away with the sight of that smile, and he forgot there was anyone else at the party…in the world.

(…He wished he saw that smile anymore.)

Zeus’ chair was spinning empty at his desk before his assistant could say another word—

And Olympus wept, distant peals of thunder rending the sky into pieces.

Lightning crackled and cackled through his hair, creating violet tracks through the air, as Zeus sped through the sky.

It was freezing, and people were staring, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was getting to his wife.

“My you look stunning.” Zeus sidled up behind his wife, running his fingers gently along her arm. “Is that a new dress?”

“New as that girlfriend of yours.” Hera grunted.

His eyes widened with shock, his voice with an indignant undertone to it. “Is something wrong?”

She paused a moment. He could see words fluttering behind her lips—(like they did so often, too often)—the words Yes you did something wrong, how can you not know?

He knew she wouldn’t believe him when he said he didn’t mean to hurt her.

“You weren’t invited,” she said softly.

“Not invited? Me?” He put his hand to his chest, like the thought of him ever not being welcome to somewhere was absurd. “To what?”

“The party, you nitwit!” She whirled around, her hair nearly whipping him in the face. “You just came barging in like you owned the place!”

“Well…to be fair—”

He stopped short at the look in her eyes, like two blue-hot flames.

He knew it was taking her a great amount of effort not to slap him.

“Do you know how long I’d been preparing for that?! How long it took me to get everything just right? I told you, but you never even listened, did you? And then you just barged right in!”

“Why are you so upset? What’s so important about a party?!”

“They were my friends.” Her gaze softened, and her tone became more serious. “They were—” Until she cut herself off, and her expression hardened as she whirled around, her hair billowing behind her.

“Bunny, wait!” His tone was softer too.

He wished she’d just turn around. That he could say sorry.

Was it really so hard? He should have started there.

Had he ever apologized for that?

He was always doing that; barging in where he wasn’t welcome. The world was his, yes but…he had to concede there were some parts of it he ought not just barge in on.

When he burst into the hospital, however, they wouldn’t dare tell him he wasn’t invited, wouldn’t dare tell him he couldn’t see her.

“Where. is my. wife?” Lightning slammed into a lamppost just outside the front door, shattering its glass box, and making the light spark, the rain pounding at the window like rabid dogs.

The desk clerk looked like she was about to pee out of sheer fear.

“Sh-sh-she’s not out of surgery yet, your majesty...I understand you want to see her, but I can’t let you…until-until they’re finished.” She was practically vibrating. “I assure you the moment she gets out, we’ll notify you.”

Surgery? He wanted to demand. She’s the queen of the gods, how could she be in surgery?

Electricity sparked in his eyes, trailing throughout his hair. He could say I demand you let me see her. He could say I don’t care! She’s my wife, and I’m not waiting! She’s fine! She’s the queen—she’s my queen—she won’t be hurt from a little car accident!

But there were some places he ought not just barge in on… and the surgeons room was probably one of them.

The lightning let out a sighing crackle, before he closed his eyes, his hair falling back upon his shoulders. It was then that he noticed he was dripping wet from head to toe. He sighed himself before muttering something like a garbled “I understand, thank you.” And turning to sit in the lobby. Behind him the desk clerk’s coworker held her to keep her from fainting.

He snapped his fingers, drying off, so as not to get their nice, barf-colored carpet all wet. Once he sat down in a chair—(the cushions didn’t have any cush to them)—a kid in the chair across from him scooched away.

He could have that kid lightly charred if he wanted.

Instead he settled for a nice glare, and reached over to pick up last month’s—(or maybe it was a few months ago)—issue of “Goddess weekly” listening to the rain die down to a drum.

The same old gossip. Usually if he picked one of these up he’d check for any news he ought to be aware of. You know, as the king. Not to mention the ladies weren’t unappealing. Now he flicked through without seeing any of it.

Speaking of ladies, there was a nymph sitting across the room from him, her skin blue, her ears down, and a cute little half smile. She surely wasn’t in here for anything serious. She kept glancing from her own magazine to him—but not in a nervous way. If he wasn’t mistaken, she wouldn’t be opposed to a session of hide-the-German-sausage.

If he wanted he could take her there in a darkened closet in the hallway. It wouldn’t take long—(if it didn’t need to…or it could take all night). That would be a nice way to relieve the stress bubbling in his body.

—Someone was laying next to him, her skin smooth, practically glowing. There was rather a lot of it exposed.

She turned over, her eyes fluttering open, a small smile creasing her features as she rolled onto his chest, tickling his chin with her fingers.

“I had a wonderful time,” she twittered, and he practically purred, staring into those big blue eyes, glittering like river stones.

He pushed her green hair behind her ear.

“Is that all? I’d like to think a night with the King of the gods would be more than merely ‘wonderful.’”

She giggled. “No no, it was much more than wonderful! It was spectacular! Mind-blowing!” She threw her arms in the air.

“That’s more like it.” He grinned—

When was that again? Two years ago, or two days ago?

It could have been either.

Had he apologized for that?

Would it have mattered if he had? Would she have forgiven him? Would he have stopped?—

Bile rose in his throat, and he dove his nose so hard into the magazine he almost smacked himself with it.

His wife was bruised and bleeding, and potentially worse in a nearby room, at the mercy of some quack holding a scalpel and a few comforting words…and here he was thinking of betraying her for the…

How many times had it been now?

He threw the magazine back on the table and sank in the chair till his head was nearly on the bottom cushion, his lip flapping his he blew out a breath, making his hair fly up a little.

The kid and his mom got called, and seemed glad of a reason to leave.

After a healthy dose of moping he pulled out his phone. After checking fatesbook and playing a few games he decided it was time to open his messages.

He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted some sensible and non-conjugal company.

He scrolled through and clicked on a name.

A number of old conversations sprinkled the page, often detailing Zeus asking about getting together and the correspondent saying they were busy.

He thought a moment about what to say—(a rare occurrence for him)—before deciding any vague requests would probably get ignored, so he simply decided the boldfaced truth:

Hera’s been in a car accident. She’s in surgery.

“WHAT?!” The word was spoken aloud—and very loudly at that.

Hades was standing in front of him. If the king being here wasn’t enough reason for weird looks, this outburst had sent more than a few eyes their way.

Zeus did a finger wave at the nymph, before he grabbed his brother’s arm, whisking him off to a less crowded hallway.

The only thing here was a vending machine, and a few overly picturesque pictures of trees.

“How did this happen?!” Hades shout-whispered.

“I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”

“I could have gathered that myself, thank you very much!” Hades was clearly trying not to shout. “What was she doing?! Where was she going?!”

Zeus rolled folded his arms. “Does it matter?”

“Sure it matters! Well at least it’d be good to know!”

“…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! What do you mean you don’t know?! She’s your wife—!”

“I said I don’t know!” he kicked the vending machine.

The air shattered and reformed itself.

Zeus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice softening. “I…I don’t know.”

Two sides of him warred. One wanted to shout at Hades. He expected him to know where she was at all times? Oh yeah, that would go over well with her. What kind of helicopter husband would he be then?

And yet, it felt wrong for him not to know. Like some sort of failure. She was his wife. Shouldn’t he? Shouldn’t he have asked? Shouldn’t he care?

Hades’ gaze softened.

“I upset her.” Zeus murmured. “We got into a fight.”

Hades leaned against the wall. He was probably resisting the urge to say he could have gathered that too.

Zeus leaned his head forward onto the glass of the vending machine, his hair falling to the side, his reflection vaguely eyeing him.

“We got into a fight and she…I hadn’t even realized she went for a drive.” He paused, observing the chocolate and chips sitting in neat rows in the machine. “Do you think she liked Twyx?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think she liked Twyx?”

Hades pondered it a moment. “Probably. She tends to like things with caramel in them.”

Zeus smiled wryly. “See? I didn’t even know that.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to ask her all your burning questions about her favorite candy flavors very soon.”

“That’s not the point.” Zeus whispered.

Zeus was feeling a little off-kilter.

He nearly fell into a three-thousand drachma vase.

Okay, make that a lot.

The sound of heels on the staircase. The white one they’d painted for that one event…what had they been celebrating again?

His hazy gaze made her glitter even more than usual.

“Have I ever told you that you’re like the sea on a summer’s day?” Zeus’ voice came out blurry. He put his hand in his hair, trying to look sexy, you know, like the kind of guy you’d wanna forgive.

This was met by her hair slapping him in the face as she walked by him. She paused a few steps below him, turning.

“Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?”

“I may have had one—“ He hiccuped, “or five, appletinis.”

“And this is what? An intelligent conversation you’re trying to have?” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Actually,” he held up a finger. The action made him feel off-balance so he leaned against the railing, trying to land in a sexy pose. “There is something I wanted to say.”

“You’re barely coherent when you’re sober, at least spare me until then.”

He rolled his eyes—(and made himself feel even dizzier).

She turned to go back up the stairs.

“Wait!” He shouted.

She stopped, looked over her shoulder, eyes narrow as a cat’s. “What?”

“I-hic!” He covered his mouth as if embarrassed. Clearly emotion was dangerous. “I wasn’t trying to get wasted! I just-hic!-needed more than three or four to say this.”

“Oh yeah? Spit it out Grape Sorbet.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m…” he held on to the railing for support. “I’m sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“You…You were right.” He took a step closer.

“About what?” Her breath bated.

“I just…I didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t…” He looked away. “I couldn’t tell you sober.”

“About what?” The words had a rough edge to them, her chest heaving with breath.

Ah. She knew. She knew what he was going to say, even before he said it.

“I…I did cheat on you.”

“Wh-What?” Her eyes tinted red…but there was so much hurt in the word.

Fear and shame rose in tandem like ocean waves, threatening to bowl him over, and he realized that the truth wasn’t going to help at all. But all he could do was let it pour out of him.

“You-hic-You asked if I was with-hic—”

“Stop.” She covered her mouth as if to keep the worst words from spilling out, tears welling in her eyes.

“But I—”

“I said stop!” Her voice rang through the room like something shattering.

Maybe something was.

Her heels against the stairs, fast and sharp, and away.

“Wait!”

Turn around please, let me apologize, let me explain, I won’t do it again.

He threw up in the vase.

“Daddy? What was that all about?” The small voice made his blood run cold. “What did you cheat at? Were you playing a game?”

Zeus turned, horrified, to see Ares, hiding behind a crack in the door.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” He breathed. “It was stupid, really.”

Hades put a dollar in the vending machine and punched in a number.

“People say all kinds of things when they’re angry. Doesn’t mean you’re bad, just means you’re people. Which…” Hades looked him up and down, adding under his breath, “I wonder about sometimes.”

“...You must think I’m a terrible husband.”

Hades grabbed two chocolate bars and handed one to his brother.

“I think you need something sweet, maybe a little hydration, and some rest.”

Zeus unwrapped the bar and took a bite, not really tasting anything.

After a moment Hades sighed.

“It’s not so simple as that.” Hades said between bites, “I don’t necessarily think there’s such a thing as a ‘terrible husband’ or ‘the best husband.’ I…I don’t even think there’s such a thing as good and bad people. There’s just…people. There’s just husbands. But there are rules that come with being a person, and/or being a husband and…” he paused, trying to choose his words carefully, “you don’t always follow those rules.”

Zeus fell back against the wall, looking at the floor, denials dying in his throat.

It was raining.

No, actually it was pouring. And thundering. The lightning was like cracks in a collapsing sky, and Zeus’s gut was twisting like the snakes on the head of a gorgon.

“What? You-you think you can just undo this?!” Hera’s words were biting. “It’s done!” Her laugh was wry and sardonic, like an ache in her throat, red tainting the blue of her eyes. “You can’t just fix something like that! Once someone cheats at the game no one else just keeps playing!”

“It was a mistake! One stupid night!”

“One stupid night, huh?! Then how do you explain this?!” She held up his phone. The pictures. The…Oh Gaia.

The snakes in his gut bit down, and he bit his lip looking away. He hadn’t known she knew about that.

“You’ve got it all wrong! That was just—!”

“I thought you were different!” She bit off his excuse, the anger cracked, and the pain was bleeding through, and he wasn’t the only one making it rain: A tear fell down her face, then another, her mascara running black along her cheeks. “You made me smile, you made me laugh! You saved your brothers from your father. And I thought we could make a kingdom—a world—together!” She shook her head, grimacing, trying and failing to keep more tears from falling. “I thought we could be something!”

“We are! We have! I just made a mistake! I—!”

“No, Zeus.” There was a finality to her tone.

Tears streamed down her face now. He hated it when she cried. She didn’t do it often, and whenever she did he was ready to smite whoever hurt her but…he’d hurt her worst of all.

“I thought you were different. But you’re—“ the words were like an antique vase, riddled with cracks. “You’re just another bad guy.” She punched him in the arm, and the vase broke, the defiance into pain. She punched him in the arm…but it was weak and far too soft, and that’s how he knew she was really hurt; she could bring the sky down on him if she wanted.

She looked down at her hand, twisting her wedding ring with a finger.

“I’m staying with a friend tonight.”

Her wedding ring tinkled on the floor.

As she turned and walked away the word rang out like he was hoping his voice alone could rewrite his sins and bring her back:

“Wait!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t turn, didn’t make any indication she’d even heard him.

“Please…Please just wait.” These were soft.

He fell to his knees on the marble, scooping up her wedding ring and enclosing it in his fingers, holding it to his forehead, and trying not to bring the sky down upon himself.

He’d seen her angry. He’d seen her sad. But this? Seeing her break for him…was so much worse.

It reminded him too much of another time. Of a scar on her stomach. How she broke herself just to be his.

—(And he wondered, for a fleeting moment, if it would have been better if he had been the one to break.)—

“There you are!” Said a voice. “You can come see her now,”—a cleared throat— “your Majesty.”

Notes: Aright, so this chapter had a few things I was unsure about I thought I’d ask about here!

1. Does anyone have any other clever play-on-words for candy brands? I feel like Zeus would know that she likes caramel in general, so it’d make more sense if Hades said “she likes [X similar candy] so she’d probably like Twyx.” But Twyx is all my brain came up with and I don’t even know that it’s all that good XD

2. I’m aware that the gods don’t call each other “people” they call each other “beings.” However, Hades’ lines don’t have as much impact with “beings.” Did the fact that I used “people” stick out too much? Should I change it to “beings”?

3. I know Ancient Greek wedding ceremonies are different from ours, and they might not even have wedding rings. But that image was so impactful for me I decided to use it. Should I remove it? Or did you find it impactful?

Please let me know if there’s anything you felt was inaccurate to their characters!!

Thanks so much for reading!! 💕💕

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paintingtownsblue · 4 years ago

Text

thanks for tagging me @goldenevermore :)))

interview tag!

rules: answer the questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better

-nickname: most people don’t call me by a nickname but i looove them, i mostly get em which is super cute but there was one girl that called me emmy, that was also super cute i really don’t care tho lol

-pronouns: she/her

-star sign: pisces, and if u know me well, it is very evident in my personality

-height: like ALMOST 5 foot 7 in, very close

-time currently: 6:53 pm

-when is your birthday: feb 25, which is kind of boring but the full thing like 2-25-2005 looks cool so it’s fine

-favorite bands/groups: i’m honestly not a massive fan of bands butttttt one direction, haim, pentatonix, and old maroon 5 songs all slap so

-favorite solo artists: um taylor swift if it isn’t obvious but other than that i looooove halsey (they go by she/they pronouns now 🥰 also i cannot wait to see her baby), i love fletcher sm, ariana grande has a killer voice and i’ve seen her live she was sooo good, and i bop hard to like early 2010s pop stuff like lady gaga, katy perry, rihanna, kesha, yk anything of that particular vibe my taste is definitely a bit basic but that’s okay. :)

-song stuck in your head: right now it’s jesus take the wheel because i started singing it out of the blue during class today and it just wouldn’t go away... idk.

-last movie watched: ummm i haven’t watched anything in a while it might’ve been ww84, it’s not very good and it’s very long dont waste your time

-last show you binged: the good place, i’ve seen it twice i think? they know how to make actual good taylor swift jokes lol.

-when you created your blog: maybe october of last year? i don’t know, i know i didn’t post until november tho

-last thing you googled: uhhh i was looking up the dates of the zodiac signs cause i don’t remember them all and i was making sure that my cousin is an aries. yeah.

-other blogs: this is it. this is me. sorry.

-why you chose your url: ummm idk honestly just cause it has a nice ring to it and i love ma&thbp

-do you get asks: yes. it is all thanks to @likediamondsinthesky-13 and @catnipevermore i love you guys

-how many people are you following: 979. 😬 i was following 840 a couple days ago idk what happened but umm.. yeah

-how many followers do you have: 284 but i feel like i had 200 like a week ago it’s going up kinda fast uhhh hey guys :,) i love u all

-average hours of sleep: on school days, probably like... 4 or 5 average but on the weekends like a solid 12

-lucky number: 9 and my best friends lucky number is 13 and ever since we’ve been friends it’s started popping up more so that’s interesting

-instruments: i love the piano and i’m trying to get better every day i just cannot read music for the life of me and i tried learning guitar but idk and i really wanna get my nails done long 💀

-what i’m currently wearing: just plain black leggings with a green sweatshirt i got at a soccer tournament

-dream job: anything where i could create and/or play music would be so so fun but i also love to draw aaaand if not something artsyyyy i would like working with animals in whatever way possible

-dream trip: travel down the north american west coast, from british columbia down to la. ugh that would be the dream, i’ve done something similar before but not to that extent

-favorite food: i love salmon sooo much but also just anything chocolate

-favorite song: call it what you want by taylor swift

-top 3 fictional universes you’d like to live in: umm that’s hard i cant pick 3 but i wanna know what the fuck is happening in narnia

20 is too many so i’m just tagging: @likediamondsinthesky-13 @catnipevermore @folkloredeluxe @nineteeneightyninetour @kasuallykrool @patch-up-your-tapestry and i was gonna tag @/album5track2 but u stole her from me 😡

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labellerose-acheron · 3 years ago

Photo

The Acheron Cottage -- aka Swynlake’s Burrow

This is a REBOOT of the first in a series that one day may be complete but also may never be complete. As most of you know I’m like a huge #spatial person in my writing, so all my character’s houses/apartments/living spaces are really well mapped out in my brain? And I thought it’d be fun for people to see. (And a good reference for those who may RP in those spaces at some point.)

And since we just did a whole plot where Hades and Belle renovated their house, I thought I would update their floorplan! (Also, because I’m super obsessed with this magical house.)

@trip-downtheriverstyx, @lou-bonfightme

Overview:

The Acheron cottage is now a 3 ½ (from 1 ½) bath, 6 bedroom cottage that was built in the 1700s sometime most likely and finished renovations in late June of 2021. Due to the fact the house is now four floors, taller than most of the trees in the area, and most of the surrounding houses are only 2 floor simple farmhouses and cottages, it sticks out a bit in the landscape, not to mention its haphazard leaning-tower of Piza style architecture. The new floors look like they were just kind of slapped onto the original house. (Think the Burrow.)

It is on 5 acres of land and backs up against the woods. There is a small stable and pasture on the land, as well as a large garden. It’s located in Southwest Swynlake, a few minutes walk from the local stable. There are neighboring farms, but they’re far enough away to not really count as proper neighbors.

Assume that all walls that are not covered by windows or other things (like closets) are full of books. The walls alternate between painted wood paneling and stone. Floors are wood except for the mud room, which are stone. The garden is shown in every photo, in order to orient yourself with which way the rooms are facing.

Residents:

Belle Acheron, Hades Acheron, Toulouse Bonfamille, Opal Acheron, Aidan Acheron, Bellamy Acheron, Arthur the ghost, other ghosts, chickens!, Philippe, Angus, the Black Shuck, Victoire, Vincent, Honoré, and Lord Voltaire Scalington, Destroyer of Universes.

**note: pictures in the aesthetic are to give an overall #feel of the house, but don’t necessarily indicate the exact furniture/decorations/floorplan. the floorplan, on the other hand is not quite to scale but i did the best i could.

1. Entryway

When you first walk into the house on your left is a row of hooks (made out of various odds and ends), on which to hang jackets. To your right is a little table and a mirror, probably plants added (thanks, Toulouse.) The hallway is wide but short and opens up into the living room area. The stairs are directly across from the front door. You can also see all the way through into the kitchen from the entryway.

2. Living Room

The living room is the most spacious room in the house and has remained so, even though other parts of the house were expanded. There is a large window seat beneath the front window. Two chairs and a couch are situated near the fireplace, which is dressed in the original brick, these are new pieces of furniture. It was painted a very pale, fading yellow, but now is painted a pale blue. Furniture is cozy and neutral colors (couch is a coffee colour and leather to prevent staining, chairs are a nice maroon colour, picked out by Lou with Hades’ influence). Lots of blankets (because Belle gets cold easily) and books along all the walls. A carpet is laid down beneath the couch/chairs.

These days, there are a few family portraits in spaces on bookshelves and above the mantel: one from Belle and Hades’ wedding, of the just the two of them and one of the whole wedding party; pictures of the children and with Toulouse, of course. Also, a picture of Belle’s mother has a place of importance among one of the shelves. There is also a picture of Persephone reading with Vincent in her old room. There is also evidence of children: toys and such littered about. It is rarely ever fully clean, no matter how fuitally Hades tries. The living room–as well as the rest of the house–is home to several clocks–on walls, on shelves, etc. Belle’s father was a clockmaker and Belle and him used to fiddle with the broken ones–made them tell time backwards or too fast or only every other hour. Belle and Hades’ chess table moved from the mudroom into the living room, near the fireplace. There is almost always a game in progress.

If one has a keen eye, they will notice there are no logs by the fire, nor soot in the fireplace. Yet, often, an eerie blue fire will be burning in it during the colder months.

3. Kitchen

The kitchen was the room that increased in size the most. The wall where the stove is was knocked out and pushed backwards to shift everything to the left. It now boasts copious counterspace, as well as a large island that is usually cluttered with mail and children’s things. Refrigerator, stove, oven, no dishwasher (which is probably the bane of Hades’ existence since Belle hates doing dishes and Lou doesn’t know how.) Cabinets are cherry wood; some are refurbished, and the new ones were made to match the originals.

Window over the sink looks out over the horse pasture in the distance (a few meters from the house.) Big, gorgeous window overlooking the garden in the “breakfast nook” area. Dining table is a cherry wood to match the cabinets and has eight matching chairs. Usually, the chairs are pushed to the walls, except for ones that are needed. This room is home to the only clock that is not digital that works in the entire house. It’s on the window ledge above the sink and was the first clock that Belle ever fixed by herself.

4. Mudroom

Where Belle always comes in from her horse rides, the door of which leads out into the garden and beyond. This is where winter clothes are stored and muddy shoes are piled by the door. It has a stone floor and is generally the coldest room in the house. The laundry machine and dryer are in this room. It used to be where Belle and Hades played chess. Now, their chess table can be found in the living room.

5. Guest Restroom

There is a new bathroom in the mudroom, for guests and the family to use conveniently. (And for Belle to clean up when coming from outside, Hades loves it.) It is just a sink and toilet but it is much better than making everyone go upstairs when they come over.

6. The Garden

The garden was neglected for a long while, since it was Belle’s mother’s. Originally it was full of just rose bushes, but many of them had died due to neglect (whoops). Persephone managed to save a few but the ones that couldn’t be, she and Belle (with the help of Haku) ripped them out and replaced them with different vegetables and flowers. It has a low brick wall around it. It backs up almost right to the woods. It is now Toulouse’s space and he will make it beautiful, with roses and other flowers and different fruits and vegetables. The opening at the top of it leads down to the pastures and off to the right of the garden is where the woods are.

7. Hallway

There is really nothing special about the hallway. It’s actually quite blank. There are more bookshelves though, which used to make the hallway a bit of a tight squeeze but they had to expand the wall in order to include stairs going up to the third floor, so it is more spacious now (though, not by a lot.)

8. Toulouse’s Room

This room used to be Persephone’s. It is currently Opal’s. However, it will, one day, be Toulouse’s, so I am going to describe that set up.

As you can see from the floor plan, there are copious amounts of plants in his room. He probably has very nice silky sheets--a dark green, maybe, with green walls. He has a long bookshelf among the far wall. On top of this is Voltaire’s tank. Probably a few paintings hung up and a dresser. The door that looks like it goes to nowhere? Oh, yeah. That’s his ever-expanding magical closet. It is a walk-in and is spelled to expand the more he needs it to. It exists now, but it has a child-proof magic lock on it so that Opal cannot get into it, lol. There is a cat tower for Honoré, though both of the cats hang out in Lou’s room, because Vincent is used to it too bc it used to be Persephone’s room.

There is a dog bed in the corner for Victoire, though she usually just sleeps with Lou, if Hades isn’t staying the night with him.

9. Belle’s Room

This room used to be Belle’s, it’s the room she grew up in. However, right now it is currently the twins’ room. However, one day it will go back to being Belle’s, so I am going to describe that set up.

A bit more spacious than the other room (but not by too much) Belle’s room is equipped with a closet, though it isn’t that big, as well as bookshelves all along the walls. There is also a reading nook in one corner with a window seat in it that Maurice built for her (which is why it’s in such a kooky spot) and it is probably Belle’s favourite spot in the whole house (after her secret office). The walls were repainted in a splendid sky blue. Her bedsheets are blue with little flower designs on them. Belle actually doesn’t spend a whole lot of time in her room, except for when she’s getting ready for bed. And I’d say she sleeps in Hades’ room probably 2 nights a week tops, but usually less than that, tbh.

10. Bathroom

Just your standard bathroom, nothing fancy about it. I assume Belle’s house runs on well water and it takes forever to get warm, which is the bane of everyone’s existence, especially Toulouse. This will mostly be his bathroom in the future, as Belle will take baths and such in the master bathroom.

11. Master Bedroom (Hades’ Room)

Biggest room in the house. It used to be Belle’s parents, and then Belle’s father’s. It has been Hades’ ever since he moved in. It is the neatest in the house because Hades is a tyrant about that and so even Belle’s things must be cleaned up. There’s a bedside drawer on either side of the bed, each has their own matching lamp. I imagine the bedsheets are like, extremely boring actually, like legitimately just white or a pale gray. There is also a space in this room, probably by the window, with arm chairs and a little table, where there is a chess board set up so Belle and Hades can play here too.

On the main dresser at the top, there is a jewelry stand for Hades’ various necklaces and bracelets. There is also a watch stand.

The walk-in closet is also extremely neat; Hades has an entire shelf for shoes which is neat of him.

The door that looks like it goes to nowhere? Oh, yeah. That’s Belle and Hades’ secret office. More on that in the section below. ~~

12. Master Bathroom

This only gets its own shout out because a) it is where Opal was born, b) I wanted the secret office to be #13, lol, c) I have a few headcanons about it. Mostly that Belle still uses it to do most of her nighttime routine stuff, because I feel like her and Hades probably have a groove going at this point and I think it’s cute. Also, she takes a lot of baths, so she’s in there all the time. She gets ready in the hallway bathroom in the morning though, since she gets up before Hades.

It is ALSO very neat, very clean counters lol and there are lots of skin products neatly arranged in drawers. He probably cleans up every morning after Belle from the night before, lmao. (Though, she DOES respect the bathroom as His Space and cleans up after herself, just...not to his standards.)

13. Belle and Hades’ Secret Office

It has a special rune on it that locks it unless you know the way in and can disappear if you want to hide it. Inside, Belle and Hades have hidden some of their more precious artifacts and books, things that they don’t want to get into the wrong hands.

The tan couch from the living room has been brought up to it, since it was getting far too small for the space downstairs and Belle didn’t want to get rid of it since it held so much sentimental value to them. The window looks out over the garden below, though it doesn’t actually exist to be looking out into the garden. From the outside, you cannot see it at all. It simply doesn’t exist.

Most everything in it is new. There is a lovely circular oak table in the middle, with matching chairs, and bookshelves surrounding all available walls. The desk labeled A is Hades and the desk labeled B is Belle’s, and they are both oak to match the table and custom fitted to the room. There is also a cabinet next to the couch that has a vault-like magic’ed drawer where they can hide things.

14. Bellamy’s Room

Eventually, this room will be Bellamy’s when the twins stop sharing a room by the time they’re about 13/14. Until then, it will be used The smallest of the three upstairs rooms. Some people might assume that Bellamy got it by default because he is technically the youngest, but he’s actually quite fine with it. He is the most like his mother when it comes to his living spaces. AKA -- he is a squirrel and likes his cozy little nest that is much messier than either of his siblings. He’s that person that puts clothes in drawers with one hand while reading with the other.

15. Opal’s Room

Eventually, this room will be Opal’s. She’ll probably move up there when she’s like five or six, idk whatever the appropriate age would be for a kid to be more or less self-sufficient in the regard of going to sleep/getting up. In the meantime, it will probably be Lou’s because it looks out over the garden. Which means she will probably get a lot of leftover plants from him because he won’t want to disturb them.

It is probably like a nice soft purple color or something right now. Opal constantly changes it. She repaints the room at least once a year and gets yelled at by her parents for rearranging her furniture at 2am sometimes. Also, the armchair in her room is the rocking chair that was in her nursery.

16. Aidan’s Room

At first, this room will be both Bellamy and Aidan’s because it is the biggest of the three upstairs rooms. The bed with the book on it is Bellamy’s and the one that is empty is Aidan’s. They don’t mind sharing really and I imagine won’t get in lots of arguments about things.

Because they are mediums, they both stay up late though they know not to disturb their parents or they’ll earn their wrath so they learn early on how to solve their own problems if they are getting on each other’s nerves. Their room is probably painted a nice pale yellow. Their biggest argument is probably closet space, because I could see Aidan being a fashionista and encroaching on Bellamy’s space and him getting annoyed about it.

17. Children’s Bathroom

It’s a bathroom? I don’t know. There are probably lots of fights about who gets to use it first in the mornings and people taking too long. Though, there are other bathrooms that people can use. I imagine there are mornings where one of the kids just marches into Hades’ room like ALL THE BATHROOMS ARE TAKEN, I’M USING YOURS!

What I’m saying is that privacy is an issue in this house, lmao. Yes, they expanded, but everyone is still living on top of each other.

18. Library

What? I thought there were books all over the house? Why do they need a library?

Because there will always be more books in the house! Also, they needed another room to escape for anyone in the family who might need it. Feel like Bellamy will haunt it most often as he grows older, but Belle will go there too rather frequently. She likes to be surrounded by books. There is another chess table here (yes, that makes three.) Sometimes, Hades and Belle will sneak off to the library just to play a game of chess without being disturbed, because they don’t keep one in the office. (The office is for working, the library is for relaxation.)

It is probably quite small actually and with a low, gabled ceiling. Floor to ceiling bookshelves all the way around the walls.

19. Toulouse’s Studio

Unattached to the rest of the house and above Hades’ garage, is Toulouse’s art studio. To get in you have to climb a spiral iron staircase. On the west side of the studio are floor to ceiling windows that look out over the forest. On the south side of the studio is another large window (though, not floor to ceiling), that looks towards the house/the garden/the horse pastures beyond. Beneath this window is his desk. To the left of his desk is a long workbench with several stools where his woodworking and other projects will be.

His favorite spot to paint is the place with the stool and empty easel, near the large floor-to-ceiling windows. There are also multiple plants in the room, scattered throughout. The couch actually pulls out into a bed, though it is rarely used. Sometimes, if Lou is in one of his moods, or if he just gets stuck on a project, he will stay the night in his studio.

This is Lou’s space and Belle/Hades rarely go in it, except to fetch him for dinner or whatnot. Sometimes, though, Opal will join him in it. She is the only one brave enough to put up with Lou when he’s in a bad mood and doesn’t want to be disturbed. It is also where she goes when she gets in fights with Belle and Hades, lol. Lou is the indulgent parent and everyone would rather she ran away to Lou’s art studio than to like...the wilds.

#the acheron cottage #swynlake's burrow #:)))#y'all i cannot tell you #how much i love this magical house #i love it SO much #inspiration #floorplan

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rockthistowninsideout · 4 years ago

Text

Never Too Late For A Leap Of Faith

Part 1

(Part 2)

Five times Taichi only feels the presence of Digimons and one time he actually meets them (again).

Words: 2126 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Tags: 5+1 Pairings: Taichi Yagami/OC, Sorato, Jyoumi

Inspired by this youtube video talking about how the end of Kizuna fits into the narrative of the Epilogue in 02, posted by TheDigiKnow. It’s in my opinion a thorough and yet personal analysis.

When there was a baby’s cry from the labour room, Taichi broke down in tears. He’d been pacing to and fro in the hall leading to it, but only after his wife Kana had dislodged some knuckles in his hand by holding it too tight during a contraction and he had to be treated for it. Afterwards he hadn’t been allowed in again because, and that was something he didn’t like to admit, he had been on the brink of fainting before Kana’s force had jerked him back to consciousness.

A nurse stuck her head out the door and smiled. “Congratulations, Yagami-shi, you have a son!”

Taichi wiped away his tears, smile a little lopsided, and entered the labour room. His wife Kana, whom he had met at a diplomatic meeting three years ago, looked pale and drained, but smiled broadly. She mopped her sweaty brow with a neckerchief, pushed her long black hair that looked a tad greasy after her exertions behind her ear and leaned forward to receive a kiss from Taichi. Then she pulled away the duvet that had been drawn over her to reveal their newborn son. He had chestnut brown hair just like Taichi but his mother’s bulbous nose and when he opened his eyes they were a startling clear blue.

“Most children have blue eyes when they’re born”, the nurse explained. “They’ll darken over the course of the first year.”

Taichi hadn’t said a word yet, he was too transfixed on this small bundle of life that he helped to produce and that he was now responsible for. That realization suddenly felt heavy on his shoulders but when he looked into Kana’s soft yet endearing black eyes, the very eyes he’d been mesmerized by from the very beginning, he felt the weight ease.

“Do you want to hold the little egg?”, Kana asked and lifted the bundle towards Taichi who’d been instinctively forming a cradle with his arms. Something at the back of his mind stirred to life, something about a green yard full of cribs with colourful eggs, the way it never had before when the word “egg” was mentioned, but Taichi didn’t give it any notice. Tears were running down his face again as he watched the miracle before him. With a scratchy voice he whispered “Hello Hotaro, welcome to the world.”

The first days were reserved just for them so the three could get to know each other. After the tiredness of being born had worn off, Hotaro was a very awake child. In every sense. He had trouble sleeping through, which caused Taichi, suddenly becoming self-conscious about his appearance, to use Kana’s concealer. She had taken a year off from work while Taichi went back to the office after three days. His colleagues welcomed him with a round of applause, a light blue greeting card, and a big stuffed and, for some reason, snow white teddy bear. As he looked the bear up and down, suddenly a cold breeze swept over him and gave him goosebumps. He immediately knew how he would name the bear.

“I am Frigimon”, he muttered under his breath.

***

Hotaro loved Frigimon. He had accepted the name without hesitation, affectionately calling him Friggi, and never going to sleep without him. Once Frigimon had entered the Yagami household, something had shifted within Taichi. Usually he was highly alert in his meetings but now he started dreaming away. Dreamt of a tram that didn’t need rails, of an island ruled by an evil bat-like looking creature, and vending machines in the middle of nowhere.

He also started dreaming away at the kitchen table when having dinner with his family. At some point he was so far gone that it needed a gentle slap on the shoulder by his wife. When he looked at her questioningly, she said “Muchomon”.

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Muchomon was my Digimon partner. He vanished when I was 24 and had just finished my degree.”

“You were a DigiDestined?” Taichi’s eyes went wide as saucers.

She nodded. “It’s been a while but since you brought Frigimon here the memories have boiled up again. You should talk to your friends again, and more than just at their birthdays and about irrelevances. I thought you’d been so close? To be a DigiDestined, and having fought numerous battles, welds together – for life.”

Taichi took a deep breath. He kneaded his hands. He hadn’t wanted all this to happen – to let the contact cool down or even freeze. It had just happened. Because. Because of life, he guessed. At some point work and his little family had become more important than his long-term friends. He didn’t even know how many children Sora and Yamato now had!

He banged his fist on the table.

“Dad!” Hotaro exclaimed frightened. He had never seen his father so agitated. Immediately, Taichi regretted his outburst. He had never wanted to scare his son, become violent around him. And now he had. Because of his own shortcoming. “I’m sorry, Hota”, he quickly said, tearing at his hair. He got up, walked around the table, and lifted his son in the air.

“It’s okay”, the four-year-old said, gently touching his father’s face. “Can you let me down, please?”

Taichi complied, a bit confused.

Hotaro took his hand and led him to his room. “Sit down, Dad. I’ve found something while playing in the attic a few days ago.” He handed him a box which Taichi instantly recognized, and his heart ached. He didn’t need to lift the dusty lid, sprinkled with little fingerprints from his son, to know what was inside. But he did it anyway. Coming to light was a round pair of goggles and a smouldered Digivice. He only noticed he was crying when the first tears hit the Digivice, just like they had done many years ago when Agumon had to say goodbye.

For good.

Or so he had thought. But Digimons were reborn. He had witnessed that many times. Maybe it just hadn’t been the right time until now.

He lifted his head to look straight into his son’s open, curious, beautiful face. When also Kana had been a DigiDestined, then maybe their child should also supposed to be one. Or no, no he shouldn’t. He should choose if he wanted to become one.

They had been thrust into this world without having been asked first. They had had to come to terms all on their when they’d been mere children and the forces who had chosen them had never offered much aid. He wanted this to go differently.

He noticed that Hotaro held up Taichi’s phone. Koushirou’s name was on the display, it was already dialling. “Call him”, Hotaro said. Taichi shook his head. That kid was much smarter than was good for him.

***

“Oh!! It’s soo good to see you all again!”, Mimi exclaimed, as excited as ever.

Taichi had to dial down the volume of his computer as the audio overmodulated. But he smiled, genuinely, because he felt just the same. Before him, the screen was split into five segments, all filled with bright smiling faces.

“Jou, come over, they’re here now!”, Mimi called, her face turned away from the camera. In the background there suddenly was the sound of glass crashing on a tiled floor, followed by a stream of swear words. “Jou, I told you not to swear in front of the kids!” She turned back to the screen. “I’ll be back in a minute.” With that, her segment got empty.

Her friends chuckled. “I see you were cleverer”, Taichi pointed out to Sora and Yamato, who were sitting together in front of the camera and holding their two children on their laps. Their son had inherited Sora’s maroon hair while their daughter was as flaxen-haired as Yamato. They were both visibly bored, wriggling about on their parents’ laps trying to grab office supplies that were clearly not toys in their vicinity.

“I’m not so sure about that”, Yamato remarked, dryly as ever, as he pulled a stapler away from his son’s hands.

“Dad, have you seen my hockey stick?”, someone called in the background of Koushirou’s screen segment.

He sighed. “I thought you put it in the cabinet beside the shoe rack. You know, where it’s supposed to go.”

“I did but it’s not there. And Yui and her mom will be here any minute to pick me up for training.” The voice grew whinier and more urgent.

Koushirou bowed apologetically to his friends. “I just have to help my daughter.”

Meanwhile, Mimi had reappeared, Jou and their two sons in tow. “Hiroshi, Sasuke, say hello to Mom and Dad’s friends.” Mimi nudged them a little forward.

The older one, taking remarkably after Jou with his blueish-black hair and the glasses, hesitated but the younger one, sporting a daring chin-long bob with a middle parting, grinned and brightly said “Hi, I’m Sasuke.”

The DigiDestined greeted him back with a laugh. “Say Sasuke”, Taichi started, “does your mom and you go to the same hairdresser?”

Sasuke looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, but how do you know?”

More friendly laughter.

“My brother’s good at guessing, is all”, Hikari remarked, absentmindedly fastening her hair-clip. She wore her hair the longest it had ever been but subconsciously she itched for a cut. But her daughter always said that she looked so nice with the long hair even though Rika couldn’t stand long hair herself. Hikari had even caught her once as she had cut her middle brown hair with kids’ scissors.

“Oh, I see”, Sasuke said, tilting his head. “But you don’t look like siblings at all.”

“Sasuke!” Jou turned red in second-hand embarrassment. “Sorry, my son can be a bit blunt sometimes.”

“I wonder whom he has that from”, Takeru mused, hand held on his chin as if he was pondering a very difficult question.

“I heard you are a writer”, Hiroshi suddenly said, nervously adjusting his glasses.

Takeru’s expression turned smug. “And a pretty successful one at that.”

“Yeah, but Dad thinks you’re exaggerating at times.”

Jou turned even redder. “That’s… that’s not what I’ve been saying!”, he sputtered. “You just sometimes spend a little too much time on one detail.”

“That’s not what you said, Dad!” Hiroshi turned to his father, affronted. “I’m not a liar!”

“Of course not, my dear”, Mimi said soothingly. Then she leaned in closer and whispered “Sometimes adults don’t like the truth very much.” Louder did she say “Why don’t you two go and get your guinea pigs to show our friends, mmh?”

“Oh yeah!” They bounded off out of the frame.

“And where’s your kid?”, Yamato asked his brother.

Takeru shrugged. “At band practice. Don’t know where he got the musical talent from but he certainly has some. And no, Yama, he hasn’t gotten it from you. Because he’s better.”

Yamato dramatically inhaled. “You didn’t say that!”

“I’ve got a round of witnesses who can confirm that I just did.”

“Sorry Takeru, my connection was a bit wobbly for a few seconds. You said something?” Taichi asked suspiciously innocent.

Takeru shook his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Before anyone could reply to that, Koushirou plonked himself down on his chair breathlessly. “I’m back!”

“Did you find the hockey stick?”, Sora asked, glad about the diversion. She had already feared that the mood could be slipping.

Koushirou nodded solemnly. “Yes, just in time. And it was actually me who had misplaced it because I had cleaned out the cabinet and didn’t put it back.”

“Tststs, Kou. I hope your daughter doesn’t have to put with too much.”

Koushirou shook his head. “Of course not. Being a single parent isn’t easy but we have a cleaning lady who comes in two days a week and I can bring Koyuki to my parents if need be.”

Yamato muttered something under his breath which earned him a jab in the ribs by Sora. “In this house we don’t judge”, she breathed into his ear, only audible for him.

He reluctantly nodded.

“These are Tom and Jerry”, Hiroshi and Sasuke announced, diverting the tension once again.

Taichi chuckled. “They don’t look like a mouse and a cat to me.”

“We weren’t allowed to have a cat and a mouse”, Sasuke replied.

“You wanted a mouse?” Sora could hardly hide her laughter.

“Unbelievable, right?” Jou seemed to shiver just at the thought of having a tiny and cunning rodent in the apartment. And a slightly dumb but very persistent cat chasing it.

Takeru laughed, too. “Most certainly.” Then he leaned forward. “But have we just come together to get to know your pets or is there a more pressing matter?”

#digimon adventure kizuna #digimon adventure #digimon last evolution #taichi yagami #yamato ishida #sora takenouchi #mimi tachikawa #jou kido #koushirou izumi #takeru takaishi #hikari yagami #original character #sorato #jyoumi #digimon adventure 02 epilogue #5+1 fic #my stories

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littleredlie · 4 years ago

Text

Derailed (S1P1)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical. On the day of Med’s reopening Morgan is in the middle of a tense situation as old friends from the past come back and form uneasy relationships with newer friends. Based off S1E1 of Chicago Med.

3.9k+ Words

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Will Halstead, Natalie Manning, April Sexton, Maggie Lockwood, Ethan Choi, Daniel Charles, Sarah Reese, Sharon Goodwin, Connor Rhodes Warning: This might be complete shit, I don’t know. I tried my hardest with the medical stuff, a lot might be inaccurate. A/N: Let me know how you like it

The alarm clock that sat on the nightstand beside Morgan’s bed rang as it changed to 4:45 AM. At the sound, the weary woman’s eyes blink open with great difficulty. She does not move for a moment, letting the alarm to ring a bit more before slapping her hand against the off button. Pulling herself up, she peeks out the open window to her right, noticing that Chicago was slowly coming to life for the day. It was November now, she had to turn the heat in the apartment soon though her roommate has been telling her to do it since August, but it always got hot in Morgan’s room. She hears a train nearby rumbling along the tracks and she can see a light tinge of blue sitting on the horizon. She had been back in Chicago for three years, but the mornings still entranced her. When a bird flies past her window, Morgan takes it as a signal to start getting ready for work.

Turning on the lamp, her small room becomes illuminated and the picture of her sister that sat on the nightstand beside the alarm clock came into view. It was taken during Morgan’s graduation from medical school about a month before their lives changed. Tearing her eyes away from the frame, she slips the bonnet off her head and places it on the vacant pillow to her left. The bun her hair was in unwraps into a ponytail, the ends of her braids tickling her upper back. Throwing the blue covers off her bare legs, Morgan slips her feet into the slippers beside her bed and trudges towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway. However, before she could get there, she noticed a light peering out from under her roommate’s door. She stops and softly knocks, pushing the door a little without waiting for a knock.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Morgan’s eyes sweep over Hayden’s body and she is immediately given her answer. The reporter was slumped over her desk, papers scattered over her bed and on the floor. Hayden looks up to Morgan, her glasses sitting on top of her head and bags stacking under her eyes.

“I’m about to get a huge lead about a sex trafficking group operating around Garfield Park and Humboldt. People are going missing and I know that I’m getting near, I just need –”

“What you need is rest” Morgan interrupts her leaning on the doorframe. “You cannot keep pushing this hard or your body is gonna crash”

“But–”

“No buts.” Morgan pulls the pen out of her roommate’s hand. “Get some rest please, doctor’s orders.”

“You know you cannot keep using your occupation over me, you don’t see me saying investigative reporter’s orders.” Hayden leans back in her chair, arms folding over her chest, a soft smile on her lips.

“Well, when I go chasing sex traffickers in Central Chicago than you can pull that shit.” She smiles back. “I’m gonna go get ready for work, I don’t need the car today so I’ll leave the car keys on the counter.”

“It's reopening today right? After ya know.” Hayden shrugs. That night was rough, Morgan was running on fumes before the explosion and after the lockdown she was trying her best not to tip over.

“Yeah, it’s being televised,” the doctor forces a breath out. “I hope today’s easy, cause these last few months have not. I’ll see you later.” With that Morgan closes Hayden’s bedroom door and heads to the bathroom. Soon the shower head is pushing out water and steam is beginning to fog up the mirrors. The clock in the bathroom reads 4:57 and Morgan knows that she has to hurry if she wants to make it to the hospital by 5:45. She was glad that they found this apartment not too far from the hospital that she’d been working at for the past three years.

When a shower cap is put over her braids, the dark skinned woman puts herself under the warm water, her shoulder muscles relaxing just a little. Almost instinctively, her hand grazes over the surgical scar that was just under her belly and it lingers. Pulling her hand away she focuses on the rest of her body until she is done. She dries herself and applies lotion quickly, wanting to bring the attention to her makeup. Morgan did not do much when it came to makeup, she’d put light foundation and do her eyebrows. She decided to leave her box braids in a high bun reinforced bu two scrunchies. With a towel wrapped around her body, Morgan heads to her room to get dressed.

Her maroon scrubs and white lab coat were folded on top of the ottoman at the end of her bed. Slipping on a pair of black boxer briefs and a black sports bra, she knew that she had no one to impress. It’s been a bit of a dry spell since she broke up with her detective ex-boyfriend last spring. It wasn’t like it bothered her much, she was busy with work and had been focusing on her family. There wasn’t time to date (and she couldn’t deny that it took a bit of time to get over him). Glancing at the clock again, she sees that it was 5:20. The train station was about five minutes away, so she had to hurry. She’ll eat when she gets to the hospital. Throwing on her sneakers, jacket, scarf, and hat, Morgan then grabs her phone and her well prepared backpack.

A chill danced down her spine the moment she stepped outside and made her way to the train station. She waves to the lady opening the flower store to her right as her steps reverberate off the concrete steps. Putting in the headphones connected to her phone, Morgan starts an audio book, her focus only on the words of the story and her destination.

It wasn’t long till she got there, recognizing familiar commuters and passing a few smiles to those who were willing to accept. The ride was uneventful, but Morgan was not focusing on everyone else. She was either listening to the book or her mind was wondering about the day that laid out in front of her. Working in an emergency department was unpredictable, it could be a day filled with easy answers and wins or it could be tragic, long, hard, stressful. Morgan’s been at Chicago Memorial for three years, finishing her residency for emergency medicine and then accepting an attending position. After graduating from University of Colorado’s M.D. program, she decided to come back home after 11 years and applied to a few hospitals in Chicago. Chicago Memorial was her first choice and when she got it, it was like she was starting over. That was until everything happened.

The train stops at her destination and the doctor shuffles off with a few others. Briskly, she makes her way to the hospital, arriving the same time as Dr. Will Halstead. Yanking the headphones from her ears, she walks up to him and nudges him slightly, bringing a small smile to his face.

“Ready for today?” She asks him and he looks down at her, nodding slightly.

“I was so excited I couldn’t sleep last night,” Morgan laughs at his tone and he laughs with her.

“Okay, let’s just get through the day.” Together they walk through the lobby where people are beginning to set up for a press conference. In the doctor’s lounge, Will diverts his attention to Natalie while Morgan heads to her locker. She hangs up her backpack on the hook, pulls out her white coat to put on, and pulls out her purple stethoscope, stuffing it into the left pocket of her white coat. She makes sure her pager is on before stuffing it into her right coat packet.

Soon doctors, nurses, reporters, administration and more are standing in the lobby listening to Mrs. Goodwin speak praising remarks for the mayor. There are cheers and claps resonating around the room and the air is light. It isn’t like that for too long. The second Goodwin cuts the ribbon for the new emergency department, various pagers and cell phones begin to ring. Morgan looks at Dr. Choi when he pulls out his pager and soon after hers begins to ring. She pulls it out and glances down to it, her eyebrows furrowing together. She sees the Mayor being ushered off before Maggie walks out through the automatic doors.

“CFD Plan 2, mass cas. Multiple trauma patients, minutes away.” She yells. “Let’s go!” She urges and medical personnel begin to push themselves through the doors.

❦

All of sudden the emergency department is busy and there are sirens nearing the hospital. Maggie immediately begins delegating as paramedics pour through from the bay. Morgan is pushed to Trauma 1.

A young teenage girl who’s clutching her arm to her chest sits on the gurney. Morgan peers down and sees her tibia poking out of her shin and knows that the girl is in pain.

“Let’s start a morphine drip!” Dr. Fitzgerald yells out, a nurse fulfilling her orders. “Transfer on my count, gently,” everyone surrounding the girl clutches at the sheet, preparing to move her onto the treatment table. “One, two, three,” with a soft thud the girl is finally on the table.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitzgerald, what’s your name sweetie?”

“Grace,” she breathes out, obviously having trouble breathing. “My name’s Grace.”

“Alright Grace, we’re doing everything we can to help you.” Morgan flashes a light in front of her eyes to see her pupil’s reaction. “Pupils are reactive to light, blood pressure and sats are normal, heart rate is increasing. She’s tachy, let’s push 3 of Ativan.” The room moves around Morgan as they tend to the patient who is crying in front of her. Morgan puts a nasal cannula on Grace’s face so that she could breathe easier.

Moving to her head, Morgan takes off the collar and looks down. “Grace, I need you to do something for me real quick, okay?” Morgan nods and places her hands to each side of Grace’s head. “Alright, can you touch your chin to the chest?” Grace does so and Morgan then has her move her head side to side. “C-Spine’s clear. Doris, get me Xray and Ortho down here.”

“On it!” Doris leaves the room momentarily, before returning back to help. Morgan walks down to Grace’s feet and checks it’s pulse.

“Need any help in here?” Dr. Halstead’s voice comes up from behind Morgan and she gives out a sigh of relief.

“Dr. Halstead, I need you to help me reset her tibia before it leads to any deficits.” She says to him, not taking her eyes off of Grace. “Where the hell is that xray?!”

“Should be here momentarily, they’re all used up,” Will heads to the side of Grace’s right leg and nods to Morgan.

“Hey Grace, this is going to hurt a lot, but we need to do this, okay?” Grace goes into panic mode and starts shaking her head, tears ferociously gliding down her face.

“No, please no!”

“Grace, I understand how you might feel right now, but Dr. Halstead and I need to do this. I promise, it’ll take just a few seconds and then we can fix you up.” Without waiting for confirmation from the teenage girl, Morgan nods towards her colleague and together they work. Morgan pulls down on Grace’s leg, maneuvering the tibia back into her leg. Grace lets out a scream, tears moving down her face at a faster rate. “Alright, Grace, we’re all good now.” Xray finally walks in and everyone who is void of a lead apron, moves out of the way.

In the background Maggie reports another incoming, and it pulls the attention of the two doctors. “You got this from here?” Will looks down, aiming the question at Morgan.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’ll be there to help you when I get Grace up to the OR.” She nods and he places a gentle hand on her arm, her replying with a soft smile. Will walks away from her and she turns back to her patient. Morgan and Doris work on calming her down and prepping her for her trip upstairs.

“What do you got for me?” Someone from surgery walks up behind Morgan, slightly starting her.

“She has an open fracture to her tibia, we cleaned the wound and maneuvered the bone back into her leg. Her arm has a closed fracture, due to her Xray I’d say she just needs a cast. Her leg, she’s definitely going to need surgery for realignment.” The surgeon, Dr. Lasonde, nods and both she and Morgan work to get Grace upstairs.

Soon Grace is on her way upstairs, her leg and arm placed into splints, and Morgan is throwing her gloves to the ground as she watches Lassonde push the gurney, a frightened Grace on top of it. Running a hand through her hair and giving a sigh out, she thanks the team around her before being rerouted to another person coming through the doors.

❦

Later, as she works at the computer filling out paperwork for Grace, Morgan peers up and notices someone stepping out of Trauma 4 and talking to Mrs. Goodwin.

Connor?

Before Morgan can approach him another team of paramedics walk in with Jamie and Goodwin sends them into a treatment room. Morgan looks down and finishes typing up her charts. “Hey Sharon!” Morgan yells to grab the administrator’s attention and she stops, stepping beside the curious doctor. “Was that Connor Rhodes?”

“Yeah, he’s the new trauma fellow. You know him?” She looks between the room he stepped in and Dr. Fitzgerald.

“Yeah, I do.” She says absentmindedly, “ Huh, I wonder why he didn’t tell me?” Morgan wonders for a moment before looking back down to the computer screen. “It’s fine, I don’t want to bother him while he’s with a patient.”

“I don’t have to worry about anything do I?” Sharon asks, hoping that drama wasn’t gonna arise between them.

“Oh, of course not! Connor and I have known each other since we were kids, he just didn’t tell me he was being transferred here. Don’t worry Sharon.” Goodwin nods and walks away from Morgan. Then Maggie walks up with a distraught, older white woman. “What can I do for you Mags?” MOrgan finally turns away from the computer and gives the duo her full attention.

“Dr. Fitzgerald, this is Grace’s mom, Candace.” Maggier introduces and Morgan smiles at the woman, holding out a hand for a handshake.

“Is my daughter okay?” Candace asks, fear in her eyes and Morgan does her best to calm her down.

“I can assure you that your daughter is okay. She had a closed fracture in her arm that just needed a cast and her leg had an open fracture. That’s a little more complicated, but she just needs her tibia realigned so she’s in surgery.”

“Surgery?”

“It shouldn’t be too long now, and I am willing to walk you up to wait for her.” Morgan places a gentle touch on Candace’s forearm and beckons her to follow. “Thank you, Maggie. I got her.” Maggie nods and continues her job as a charge nurse.

As the doctor and patient make their way, Candace begins to ramble. “Grace wasn’t supposed to be on the train today, I was supposed to take her. This is all my fault.”

“Candace. Candace.” Morgan pulls the woman to a stop and looks her in the eye. “It is not your fault, these things just happen. But that’s not what Grace is worried about right now, I’m pretty sure that she just wants to see her mother.” Candace sniffles and reluctantly nods, letting the doctor take her to the waiting room outside Grace’s OR.

❦

After doing a few more rounds in the emergency department, Morgan sat herself in the doctor’s lounge, still not able to find time to talk to Connor. Morgan isn’t paying attention to the conversation happening between Natalie and Will, instead focusing on the charts of another one of her patients on the tablet in her hands.

“You meet the new guy yet? Rhodes?” At her friend’s name leaving Natalie’s lips, Morgan’s head snaps up.

“You could say that.” Will answers back. “Likes to throw his weight around.” He leans back in his chair, his body still facing Natalie. “I don’t know, strikes me as a little arrogant.”

Natalie gives him a little look as she contemplates the words he just said to her.

“Hey, I am not arrogant.” He scoffs at her, a teasing smile on his face. Morgan rolls her eyes and feels herself getting a little defensive over her old friend.

“No, no. Not at all.” Natalie says, sarcastically, to his remarks. “You just happen to know more than anyone else.”

“Hey,” Morgan grasps the attention of her friends and colleagues. “I promise Connor isn’t always like that. It was just a stressful situation to be making introductions.” She says, barely looking up to her colleagues.

“Woah, Connor?” Will questions at the familiarity that Morgan had with his name. He glances at her, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, Dr. Rhodes. He’s an excellent doctor and he’s great to work with.”

“Have you ever worked with him?” Natalie asks, taking another sip from her water bottle.

“No, I haven’t. But I know him and I promise, he isn’t a dick.” With that Morgan makes her way out of the room, she smiles at Nat and doesn’t spare a look at Will.

❦

A few hours later, Morgan makes her way up to see Grace. She’s up and talking to her mom, a smile on her face. Morgan knocks at the entrance of the recovery room, peering her head in to take a view at her patient.

“Dr. Fitzgerald!” Candace exclaims, waving the young doctor in.

“How’s everything going Grace? You look a lot better than when I first saw you.” Morgan glances over her vitals and chart before walking to the unoccupied side of the bed.

“Yeah, I’m doing better. The pain meds are really helping out.” She grins.

“That’s good. It looks like you’re okay for being discharged tomorrow morning. And I will try my hardest to come by and see you off.”

“Thank you Dr. Fitzgerald.” Candace reaches over and clasps Morgan’s hand. “For helping my daughter and for helping me.”

“It’s no problem, really.” She squeezes back before pulling away. “You two have a good night, and just let any of the nurses know if you need anything.” With that Morgan delivers one more smile and heads out of the room.

Now that it was the end of her shift Morgan decided to make finding Connor her number one goal.. She was ready to give up but finally spotted him standing outside a recovery room. She sneaks up beside him and peers in, Jamie is off of the ventilator and Dr. Charles sits beside him watching something on a tablet. Morgan had heard about the operation Jamie had and she could tell that he looked so much better.

“So, when were you gonna tell me that you were coming back to Chicago?” Connor jumps, whipping around to look at the owner of the voice.

“Morgan!” He chuckles out, pulling the doctor into his embrace. She hugs him back before pulling herself out and raising an eyebrow at him.

“So, were you just going to end up on our front doorstep hoping we were gonna take you in?”

“No, I was going to surprise you. I just wanted to come back, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do. Welcome home Connor.” She gives him a small smile, looking at the one he was returning to her. “Hey, I heard about your comatose patient, sorry about that.”

“Yeah, it was tough, but he helped us save Jamie.”

“That’s good, Jamie’s a good kid. He deserves it.” They both look inside the room for a moment, before Morgan looks down at the watch sitting on her wrist. “Hey, there’s this diner that’s open 24 hours, wanna grab something to eat? Catch up and give you a bit of a rundown on how things are run here at Chicago Med.”

Connor looks down at Morgan, her head still facing Jamie and Dr. Charles. “Yeah, sure. You buying?” She finally looks up at him with a scoff.

“Yeah right.” The fellow laughs at her and she leads him back to the doctor’s lounge in the ED. Stripping herself of her stethoscope, she places it in the locker, taking a glance of the family picture she had pinned up alongside the picture she had with Connor from her undergrad graduation.

“You hang that up in here?” He gawks at the picture, noticing how much the two of you had grown in the last 7 years.

“Yeah, I did. You are my best friend, besides Hayden of course.” Morgan hangs up the white coat on a hook in the cubby under the locker before continuing her answer,“but even when we were miles apart, you were always there for me.” She softly closes the locker.

“Huh.” He looks at Morgan, coming to the same realization about her.

“Let’s go, I am dying for their mashed potatoes.” He smiles and grabs his belongings before heading out of the lounge with his friend. On the way out the door, they pass Will.

She urges Connor to continue walking as she looks up at her other friend. “Hey Will, I’m sorry for getting all snappy at you earlier. Just got a little overprotective.” Morgan shrugs, placing her hands in her jacket pocket.

“It’s alright, I understand. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.” He nods, looking over the soft smile on her face.

“You’re okay, Connor has his moments.”

Will and Morgan were an enigma. They worked well together, everyone could agree on that. And outside of work, they proved to have a level of care for each other as well as always having each other’s backs. With the amount of affection they always seemed to portray to each other, everyone also wondered why they weren’t together. They made a good pair and the blinded love they had for each other was glaringly apparent to outsiders. The two doctors however, never saw it. Will was too hung up on his crush on Natalie and Morgan wasn’t looking for a relationship (the fact that she also dated his brother didn’t help). For now, they would be friends and if the universe allowed for something to happen, the universe would prevail.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Will asks, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his scrubs.

“Actually, I’m the welcoming committee for Dr. Rhodes so I’m taking him to the diner up the street.” Will nods, but dashes his eyes to where Connor is standing. “But tomorrow morning, I’m bringing coffee.” Morgan says, bringing a bigger smile on her face and chuckle to Will.

“Alright then, have a good night Morgan,” he says.

“Night Will, see you tomorrow.” She gives him a quick, small pat on his arm before turning away and walking up to Connor. They two old friends resume their conversation and Will watches the smile on Morgan’s face as she continues walking with the new doctor.

Part Two

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Globe, April 12

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Brad Pitt Blindsided by Abuse Bombshell

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- former Vanderpump Rules hunk Jax Taylor hauling trash outside his L.A. home, tennis star Venus Williams had some courtside cuddles with her pet pup in Miami, sitcom star turned pot peddler Jim Belushi during a spin around Santa Monica

Page 3: Chrissy Metz runs errands in L.A., David Hasselhoff with his wife Hayley Roberts in Calabasas, Lena Headey buzzed around in L.A. on an electric bike

Page 4: Toxic TV talker Ellen DeGeneres is trapped in a tragic tailspin, belting back booze while struggling to get a grip on her fading career and rocky marriage -- after losing 1 million viewers this year alone, Ellen's once high-flying show is on thin ice and she's fighting with wife Portia de Rossi amid talks of a $300 million divorce -- her ratings are tanking, and her marriage is coming apart at the seams and she's knocking back the red wine to drown her sorrows -- her strategy is to let the storm about her talk show die down and then pull in some huge guest stars to win back her audience and reestablish herself as top dog on the talk show circuit -- at the same time, her 12-year marriage to Portia has been hanging by a thread and the two had been at loggerheads after serial house-flipper Ellen put the estate she bought from Maroon 5's Adam Levine on the market for $53.5 million and Portia thought it was finally going to be their forever home and it was like pulling the rug out from under her -- then another crisis struck home as Ellen rushed Portia to the hospital after she collapsed and Portia underwent an emergency appendectomy and is now recuperating but her spouse is a mess over Portia's health crisis and she's been drowning her sorrows in booze -- Ellen realizes much more than ever how much she desperately loves Portia and what she's got to lose if they split but she also knows it's be a lot of work to get the relationship back on track once Portia recovers

Page 5: Chevy Chase secretly cheated death after a secret heart condition landed him in the hospital for five long weeks and now he may never be out of the woods -- the 77-year-old, who is now recovering at his Westchester, N.Y. home, recently revealed the heart issue snuck up on him -- Chevy needed valve replacement surgery, and recovering boozer Chevy's long history of swilling alcohol had left him with an enlarged heart and acute cardiomyopathy, a disease that makes it harder for the organ to pump blood to the rest of his body and his heart problems stems from his years of drinking plain and simple and it's affected his heart, weakened it over the years -- however, before risky surgery could be performed, docs needed to make sure the comedian was stable enough for the procedure -- in 2017, Chevy claimed he'd finally gotten sober after one of his daughters said she gave up on him and his wife Jayni threatened to leave him if he didn't clean up his act but it may be too little too late for the comedy legend because valve replacement surgery could affect his activities for the rest of his life and it means his heart was pumping through an ineffective valve, and this damages heart muscles, which never grow back and he could have ongoing chest pains or dangerous heart rhythm disturbances, which could lead to heart attack or death

Page 6: Dr. Dre's estranged wife, Nicole Young, claims the rap mogul knocked her out cold in a drunken rage -- it's the latest bombshell in the couple's brutal divorce war, with Nicole making the explosive charge in an application for a restraining order that was denied by a judge and she also alleges Dre punched her squarely in the face after he felt she disrespected him at a party in 1999 and Nicole claims she woke up in their car with Andre speeding at over 100 miles per hour, drunk and out of control and he was swerving and weaving and she thought she was going to die and she also claims a drunk and angry Dre held a gun to her head during a 2012 dispute, saying she was terrified he was going to kill her -- Dre has denied all of Nicole's abuse claims

* In a desperate bid to save their crumbling romance, Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez are seeing a sex therapist to spice up their fizzling bedroom romps -- the duo called off their wedding plans after a stormy four-year affair and are on the brink of the end -- A-Rod staved off a break at the last minute by dashing down to the Dominican Republic, where J.Lo's filming her new flick and patching things up for the moment -- the biggest issue has been Alex's roving eye plus sexting various women on the side, and Jennifer wants to get to the bottom of why she's not enough for him

Page 7: Jeopardy! contestants want celeb medic Dr. Mehmet Oz axed as guest host -- casting the dubious doc celebrates the elevation of talking heads at the expense of academic rigor and consensus, according to a group of the game show's former winners and contestants in a letter -- the letter cites instances in which Dr. Oz used his authority as a doctor to push harmful ideas, and referred to a 2014 letter penned by faculty at Columbia Medical School, where Oz also teaches, calling for his removal from the program and the letter concludes inviting Oz to guest host is a slap in the face to all involved

Page 8: Jeffrey Epstein's accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell's third desperate bid to get out of jail on bail has been nixed by a federal judge -- the 59-year-old British socialite it rotting in a Brooklyn, N.Y. federal slammer denying charges she recruited underage girls to be sex slaves for her late lover Epstein, whose 2019 death in his jail cell is suspected on being a staged murder, despite an official ruling of suicide -- Maxwell's offer to plunk down $22.5 million and give up her citizenships in England and France was nixed by Judge Alison Nathan, who agreed with prosecutors the suspected Israeli intelligence asset was still a flight risk -- meanwhile, Ghislaine's lawyers claim she was abused by a guard and is losing hair and weight due to poor treatment in the slammer, where she's awaiting a July trail date

Page 9: Billionaire Queen Elizabeth is bracing for a big pay cut -- due to the financial crash triggered by the COVID pandemic, the Sovereign Grant, the tax money allowance the royals get, is expected to be slashed by more than 25 percent when it comes up for its five-year renewal in 2022 -- last year, Her Highness raked in $114.2 million from taxpayers, but that bundle was exceptional and cannot expect that to be repeated -- a major cost, besides allowances for the royal family, is a renovation of Buckingham Palace, which prices out at $500 million over 10 years -- one saving is Prince Harry and wife Meghan Markle have been stripped of their titles and public paychecks -- Her Majesty is aware of the current financial situation and is happy to play her part in cutting costs

* Prince Harry has landed a job as a hot-shot exec of a firm providing mental health and life counseling but it sounds like the tech start-up company is really using him as a celebrity showhorse -- Harry, who studied art and geography in college, will be Chief Impact Officer for BetterUp Inc, saying he intends to help create impact in people's lives -- BetterUp CEO Alexi Robichaux refused to say how much he's paying the prince, but noted Harry will have a meaningful and meaty role and will attend all employee meetings at the San Francisco headquarters and Robichaux also hinted at Harry's true value, saying he'll be a special guest at company events; in other words, the company will use him as a celebrity draw and they'll lure potential clients and investors to events by saying they can run shoulders with the prince and Harry has no psychology training; he will be a showpiece -- Harry first hooked up with BetterUp by using its app that gives proactive coaching and provides endless possibilities for personal development, increased awareness and an all-around better life and Harry says he was matched with his coach who is truly awesome and has always given him sound advice and a fresh perspective, which is so valuable

Page 10: Lisa Marie Presley is getting back on track after her son Benjamin Keough's tragic suicide and bitter divorce from Michael Lockwood, but she's still a hopeless addict -- Elvis Presley's 53-year-old daughter smokes like a chimney from morning until night and is struggling for every breath and she goes through a pack or two a day minimum and she simply can't quit and she has cut out triggers like booze and coffee, but she still needs her cigarette fix from the moment she wakes up until she puts her head down at night -- she was snapped having a smoke outside a COVID-19 testing center in L.A.'s San Fernando Valley and it was the only time she was spotted in public since her son died in July -- she started smoking at age 15 and has admitted this is the one thing that got her and bit her in the ass that she can't shake even those she's kicked pain pills, cocaine, booze and opioids and she's tried everything she can think of to quit: patches, nicotine gum, going cold turkey, but nothing works and she did stop for a spell after being hypnotized but a day or two later she was lighting up again -- she's losing weight, exercising more and eating healthier, but her smoking habit is the elephant in the room

Page 11: Following the heart-crushing suicide of her brother, Elvis Presley's granddaughter Riley Keough has become a death doula, a counselor who helps terminal patients and their cope with the devastating trauma -- Riley announced she'd completed her training on social media -- the daughter of Lisa Marie Presley and her first husband Danny Keough, Riley was devastated when her brother Benjamin Keough committed suicide with a shotgun last July -- spurred by the tragedy to become a death doula, Riley says she thinks it's so important to be educated on conscious dying and death the way we educate ourselves on birth and conscious birthing

* Reality TV train wreck Mama June Shannon claims she and her boyfriend Geno Doak spent $900,000 in a year to feed their drug addiction and the couple were spending $2500 a day, if not more, on methamphetamine -- June entered rehab with $1.75 in her pocket and they've been clean 14 months

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- reformed boozer Luann de Lesseps sips a soft drink in Mexico (picture), Real World star Rebecca Blasband believes she had an otherwordly 15-year beyond-the-grave relationship with Beatles legend John Lennon's ghost, in Australia a not so itsy bitsy spider bite turned into a giant wallop of a headache for Melissa McCarthy, Ilana Glazer and husband David Rooklin are happily expecting their first baby ironically right before of her horror movie False Positive, Sarah Silverman says no one ever told her not to use tongue in screen kisses and it got her fired from a show called Pride & Joy

Page 13: Al Pacino gets all gussied up in Italy to play fashion godfather Aldo in the biopic House of Gucci (picture), Justine Bateman (picture), Tom Selleck covers up his signature 'stache with a mask in L.A. (picture), first-time mama Katharine McPhee hit a sour note with composer husband David Foster for blabbing their newborn son's name Rennie David Foster on Today

Page 14: Rihanna plunked down $13.8 million for a new Beverly Hills mountaintop mansion that's literally surrounded by noteworthy neighbors like Paul McCartney and Mariah Carey and Madonna who live in the same exclusive star-studded cul-de-sac, Tom Cruise is on a mission to unload his Rocky Mountain getaway for $39.5 million, Goldie Hawn gushes her life partner Kurt Russell is still hot as heck after turning 70

* Fashion Verdict -- Miranda Lambert 4/10, Taylor Swift 5/10, Phoebe Bridgers 1/10, Giuliana Rancic 7/10, Brandi Carlile 6/10

Page 16: Cover Story -- Angelina Jolie is determined to paint her ex Brad Pitt as an abusive, drunken monster, and now she's got their kids backing her claim that he's the dad from hell -- the mom of six, who's been battling Brad in court over custody and money for five years, filed new bombshell papers saying she and her children want to testify their life was the pits -- while the documents are sealed, Angelina is making sure their kids paint Brad as violent and aggressive and her shocking charges continue earlier accusations by oldest child Maddox, now 19 and in college, who accused a booze-fueled Brad of abusing him on a private flight five years ago and Maddox essentially painted his dad as a demented monster and he went into detail about Brad's terrible temper, the abuse he inflicted on the whole household with his binge drinking and the scars that exist to this day because of the appalling way he alleges Brad treated his mom during the marriage -- Brad has reportedly been sober for years and Angelina's new claims of domestic abuse are basically a rehash of the old accusations -- legal experts also maintain the minor kids can only testify if Brad agrees to it, which is doubtful -- the superstars have spent a combined $10 million in legal fees and are currently battling over visitation rights for their brood and Angelina has refused to compromise, wants full custody and calls it a fight to the death and she doesn't care about Brad or how anybody sees their fight, she just wants what she feels she is entitled to as a mother and will fight with every inch of her body and soul to get it

Page 19: 10 Things You Don't Know About Topher Grace

* Katherine Heigl boasts she's bionic after having two titanium disks inserted into her neck and the actress says the surgery has freed her from the most excruciating pain

* Wendy Williams broke wind in a stunning fart-burp combo while she was live on camera, right in the middle to discussing Kim Kardashian's divorce from Kanye West -- the gassy lassie seemed surprised at her own outburst and apologized to the audience

Page 20: True Crime

Page 23: William Shatner is creating an artificial intelligence-powered version of himself -- in true sci-fi fashion, people in the future will be able to ask him questions about his life and times -- the 90-year-old icon is the first person to be captured by an advanced video and sound system developed by the L.A.-based company StoryFile -- Shatner says with StoryFile, we can now be present for the future; your authentic self, for all time

* Furious perfume mogul William Lauder is battling to kick his former mistress Taylor Stein and their 13-year-old love child out of her home and into the street, because their supposedly secret love affair was revealed -- the big stink exploded after the 60-year-old Estee Lauder heir learned his secret teen daughter wrote on social media that her parents were divorced but actually, Lauder never wed Taylor, but kept her like a queen in a $7 million, 6000-square-foot Bel Air mansion with a $1 million annual allowance for years and the only condition was that she keep their affair and the child under wraps, but the Park Avenue playboy claims she blasted their pact to smithereens when his illicit daughter blabbed about the relationship online -- Lauder hooked up with Taylor in Aspen in 2000 while still wed to wife Karen, mom of three of his daughters -- he knocked Taylor up in 2005, but told her to get an abortion because he was then in the midst of divorcing Karen but three years before the 2009 divorce, Taylor got pregnant again and gave birth to their girl and that's when the moneybags lover boy drew up the hush-hush deal

Page 24: COVID vaccines hidden dangers -- scientists warn shots don't work and have nightmare side effects

Page 27: Gal rock roadie Tana Douglas is snitching on music superstars including George Harrison and Iggy Pop, who she got close to during her wild years traveling with bands -- in her book called Loud, she recalls her job hauling equipment for bands nearly ended at age 21 when Beatle George Harrison was ready to propose, but she blew it; the two were getting close under a kitchen table after George fled his own birthday party, where he was embarrassed by his present: strippers and she ruined the mood by firing up a cigarette and George told her he would marry her tomorrow if she gave up smoking but the first female rock roadie couldn't kick butts -- she has crazy stories about saving AC/DC's frontman Bon Scott when he overdosed, Elton John who did drugs and threw tantrums, The Go-Gos, and doing a line of coke with Iggy Pop intended for David Bowie

Page 28: Health Report

Page 30: Julianne Hough has plumped up her kisser, and her new look falls flat -- the newly single star may have gone overboard with lip fillers to the point where she's almost unrecognizable -- Julianne's had some surgical and nonsurgical things done, but her lips just look wonky and no one can understand why she'd do it because her lips looked fine to her friends and family, but Julianne obviously thought they needed more volume and clearly got carried away -- she's also totally gone overboard with the spray tanning and hair extensions and she ditched the short blond bob that suited her so well and now she's looking like a Kardashian -- her lips look a bit swollen, so it's possible they will settle down and her natural lip proportions appear to have changed, with her upper lip the same size as her lower lip

Page 32: Tori Spelling has got the marriage blues and she's been out and about without her wedding ring -- the 47-year-old mom of five was spotted buying veggies at Underwood Family Farms in California's Moorpark with her kids but minus husband Dean McDermott and her wedding ring -- Tori's fed up with her mate, whining he's not doing his share around the house or paying her enough attention and they've found themselves in a real rut where they spend less and less time together and barely mention one another on social media and they haven't had a date night since goodness knows and Dean is never in the romantic mood and lately, they're more like brother and sister than husband and wife -- Tori wants Dean to step it up and start acting like a hubby instead of a leach and Tori's exhausting herself by taking care of the domestic chores single-handedly at times while Dean has other things on his mind and he hasn't picked up a vacuum or washed the dishes in weeks and sometimes he doesn't seem to be aware she's in the room and it's frustrating her to no end -- ditching her ring is sending Dean a very clear message that he needs to stop taking her for granted and work on the marriage

* Paul McCartney dove deep into his Beatles past and emerged with a children's book inspired by the group's 1966 hit Yellow Submarine -- Grandude's Green Submarine, a sequel to Paul's picture book Hey Grandude, will be released in September and changes the color of the submerged vessel

Page 36: Reality TV momager Kris Jenner is worth an estimated $190 million and masterminded the megabucks careers of her reality star daughters, but she confesses she was clueless about dough when she became divorced -- Kris confesses first husband Robert Kardashian handled everything and she never paid a bill during their 13-year marriage that ended in 1991 -- she said she woke up to responsibilities that she didn't have the day before but she says she's a quick study and she knew she had to get it together and she felt such an enormous sense of accomplishment to be able to figure it all out and pay her own bills and make her own money and do her own taxes and there were times when she didn't have a lot of money, but she was very organized -- now she studies business for new opportunities and she's interested in different businesses and how they evolve and how they become successful and she just enjoys the business world

* Bobby Brown's son Bobby Jr. died after accidentally overdosing on a killer cocktail of alcohol, cocaine and fentanyl, his autopsy reveals, but lawmen say they are now opening a criminal investigation into the 27-year-old's death at his father's home in suburban L.A. -- the autopsy report showed in his final hours Bobby Jr. consumed a deadly mix of tequila, cocaine and the prescription medication Percocet -- he was Brown's second child with former galpal Kim Ward

Page 38: Long-lost letters written by Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler's father, Alois, reveal the freaky Fuhrer grew up to be a cruel, tyrannical, arrogant lout, just like his old man -- the 31 letters were discovered by retiree Anneliese Smigielski in the attic of her house in the Austrian town of Wallern and are the basis of a new book by historian Roman Sandgruber -- penned to Anneliese's great-great-great-grandfather Joseph Radlegger, who sold retired customs official Alois a farm when future Nazi monster Adolf was six in 1895, the letters reveal Hitler's dad was a brutal boozer and boss of the house, but depended on the skills and money of his third wife, Klara, a former servant girl the cheating creep had seduced and wine-guzzling Alois was awfully rough with her and beat little Adolf and the other eight kids -- like his father, Adolf felt superior through the knowledge he had acquired in self-study and he saw himself as a military, technical and artistic genius, not only as a painter, but also as an architect, writer, composer and actor

Page 40: Bethenny Frankel is sporting an engagement ring from fiance Paul Bernon -- the three-stone ring features a huge eight- to ten-carat emerald-shaped center stone and if it's a real, natural diamond, its estimated value is up to $1 million

* Gwyneth Paltrow just babbled something her second husband, Brad Falchuk, probably doesn't want to hear: she never wanted to get divorced from Chris Martin but she wed Brad in 2018 and Gwyneth calls him the most amazing man adding they've built something that she's never had before

* Suzanne Somers brags she and husband Alan Hamel are having sizzling sex three times a day before noon -- she blames doses of hormones for their frisky urges in their golden years

* Klutzy comic Chelsea Handler jokes about her subpar skiing skills online, but later revealed she wrecked her knee and broke two toes after she flew into the trees on a snowy slope in Canada -- Chelsea confesses she took the terrible tumble in British Columbia, where she was training with a personal instructor

Page 41: Vin Diesel's son Vincent is learning it's a good career move to have a movie star dad -- the 10-year-old has landed a $1000-a-day role in his father's new Fast and Furious flick -- the kid plays the younger version of Vin's character Dominic Toretto in the already completed, ninth F&F film -- Vincent's mom is Vin's longtime galpal, Mexican model Paloma Jimenez, who also has two daughters with Vin -- unlike his dad's megabucks salary, Vincent got the basic $1005 daily rate

* The faith-based Duggar family of 19 Kids and Counting fame is still feuding after a sleazy sex scandal ripped them apart -- Jill Duggar Dillard, who's outed herself as one of four sisters molested by big brother Josh Duggar, reveals she hasn't visited her parents' home in years -- Jill and husband Derick Dillard, say they aren't allowed at Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar's Big House without her father's permission and Jill reveals there's some restrictions but also they just feel like they have to prioritize their mental and emotional health -- TLC axed the family's show after Josh was exposed as a child molester and in the past, Jill's admitted she's not on the best terms with some of her family

Page 42: Kim Kardashian has been getting back in touch with her body big-time now that she has booted Kanye West from her bedroom and her life and she's been strolling around totally nude -- with the pair's six-year marriage officially kaput, Kim is gleefully letting it all hang out, while indulging in once-forbidden McDonald's french fries -- Kanye made a habit of telling Kim to cover up and picked her to pieces for wearing sexy outfits and he said she needed to class up her act and grow old gracefully but now she's free to express herself and a lot of the time, especially when Kanye's looking after the kids, she's walking around totally in the nude and it's liberating for her to be at one with her body and she's made no secret of her desire to pursue a racy image and right now Kim's priority is to get her mojo back and learn to love herself again physically

* Britney Spears confesses she's been so wrapped up in battling the conservatorship over her estate, she forgot about singing until her mom reminded her -- the singer hasn't cut an album for five years as she's battled dad Jamie Spears for control of her $60 million fortune after a court gave him control when she went bonkers in 2008 -- she now realizes she's neglected her career after mom Lynne Spears sent her a video of her signing You Got It All at a '90s concert in Singapore and Britney tweeted that her mom reminded her that she can sing and she never sings anymore

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Cradle-robbing Scott Disick has struck again, scooping up a new galpal half of his 37 years, who is barely out of high school -- the latest victim is Amelia Hamlin, 19 years old and daughter of Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin

Page 45: Sharon Osbourne is demanding at least $10 million to walk away from The Talk after being accused of racist and sexist attacks on co-hosts -- Sharon is playing hardball, saying she was wrongly vilified for branding lesbian co-star Sara Gilbert a fish eater and calling Chinese-American Julie Chen slanty eyes -- it's going to become a battle royale and Sharon's made her demands clear and will fight tooth and nail and she's a street fighter and is used to playing down and dirty, owing to her years as a hard-nosed rock manager for husband Ozzy Osbourne

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