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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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Casting Couch {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I was driving home from work the other day and this idea just suddenly took over my entire thought process. so, naturally, I went ahead and wrote it up :)

warnings (what you see here is what you’ll get!): smut. the enemy of my enemy is my ally (with benefits). p in v sex. protected sex. rough oral sex. cum- swallowing.

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex.

word count: 3.2k

charlie’s taglist peeps! {charlie currently doesn’t have any taglist peeps} my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @babbushka @safarigirlsp (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

Two Years Ago.

“Y/N...she fucking did it again.” Nicole says as she barges through the door of hers and Charlie’s shared brownstone. “She got the fucking TV gig.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow a bit before looking up at his wife with an empathetic expression, setting the notebook and pen he’d been using down on the coffee table.

“Bummer. I really thought you had it in the bag.” He says, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward a bit, folding his hands. “There will be other roles; I wouldn’t worry too much. You win some, you lose some; that’s how it goes in this industry. You’ve taken plenty of roles from her.”

She sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I know, but this one I was excited about. And I really thought I had it, too. It just stung a little extra, you know?”

Her husband nods, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “C’mere, sit with me. We’ll have a glass of wine.”

Nicole gives somewhat of a dreadful grimace, a clear sign she really wasn’t interested. Charlie’s been noticing this for the past few months, her disinterest in being with him as much as she usually was, but he figured it was just her being tired. She’s been doing a lot of odd jobs to make some ends meet lately, so it’s probably a result of that.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a twang of longing sadness in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go lay down for a bit.”

Charlie just nods, picking back up his notebook and pen, continuing to review and add to his notes from the day.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He calls after her. “I love you.”

She only offers him a small smile over her shoulder in return before emerging into their bedroom, closing the door immediately behind her.

Present Day.

It feels strange, holding auditions for a female lead. He hasn’t had to do so in almost a decade; just yet another reminder of how much of his life has changed just in the past year.

The divorce had been painful, stressful, and he was honestly more relieved than anything when it finally came to a close, despite it not really turning out the way he’d hoped for in terms of custody over Henry.

Luckily, he’s dove deeper into his one true love, directing, as a way to cope with the loss of everything he’d worked so hard to build for himself; the marriage, the 'American dream’ family and home he wished he’d had growing up.

Now, after six months of weekly therapy appointments and keeping himself busy with work, he’s feeling more like the old Charlie he was back before everything went to shit. Actually, he’s feeling like an even better version of that Charlie, the best version of himself there’s been in a while, perhaps even before he met and married Nicole.

The first audition comes onstage and Charlie can’t decide what’s worse, her off-pitch singing or her monotonous speaking voice.

God, this was going to be a long fucking day.

You’d heard through the grapevine that the famed Broadway director had moved here to LA, and that he’d divorced his witch of a wife, Nicole.

Nicole Barber had been your biggest rival ever since you swiped that first movie role away from her. She hates you, and you don’t particularly like her, either, thus your rivalry began. And it was pretty heated, too; the two of you were always trying to one-up each other.

It really was a back-and-forth battle, her swiping roles from you, you returning the favor; it was a game, to put it simply. Although lately, you’ve been getting more roles than she has, not that you’re complaining, and there’s a part of you that hopes she quits the business for good.

Word got around that Charlie is heading his first LA Broadway production and what better way to hit Nicole close to home than to show up at her ex-husband’s auditions? Even better, what if you got the female lead in her ex-husband’s production? Oh god, that would be fantastic, not only for the rivalry but also for your career.

You’ve been looking to branch out into more theater roles, and this is as good an opportunity as to dip your toe in the theater world water. Plus, you’re not necessarily complaining about having the chance to look at and work with Charlie Barber every day...

So you prepared your piece of dialogue and a section of one of the choice songs, heading over to the theater fifteen minutes before your set audition time. Your knee bounces as you sit in the waiting area, eyes running over your script and lyrics sheet one final time, solidifying it all in your memory.

Your name is called a few minutes later and you head out onto the stage, handing over your headshot and qualifications resume. The agent hands over your profile to the handsome director, but he doesn’t even really look at it, already knowing exactly who you are. A small smirk grazes his lips as he flips to a new page of his notebook, clicking the top of his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”

After you’re finished, Charlie scribbles one final thing in his notebook before looking up at you. His eyes trail over your figure for a moment, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Would you be comfortable coming back for a more intimate audition later this week? Maybe, Friday at four? I would like to get to know you better, see if you meet all of my... qualifications.”

The look in his eye tells you all you need to know about the true motivations behind his question. You nod, biting your lip.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mr. Barber.” You purr.

He shifts in his seat suddenly and quickly crosses one leg over the other before opening up your folder, handing the top sheet to his assistant.

“Diane, go ahead and have Miss Y/N put down all of her contact information.” His gaze never leave you as he speaks to the timid-seeming young woman. “Make sure she gives her personal cell number.”

You pull a pen from your bag on the stage, clicking it open before Diane hands you the paper. As you write every means of contact you can think of, starting with your cell number, you playfully bite the end of the pen and tap it against your bottom lip, something that certainly keeps the already attentive director’s full attention.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Barber.” Your tone is innocent-sounding, but your gaze is anything but. It sends a chill down Charlie’s spine. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” A small tug at one corner of his lip accompanies his response. “See you soon, Miss Y/N.”

You offer him a nod.

“Looking forward to it.”

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In preparation for your upcoming...meeting with Charlie, you take a quick trip to the nearest intimates store, picking up a pretty little lace bra and panty set. Your lingerie wardrobe is long overdue for a bit of sprucing up, anyway.

When the time comes, you slip the fresh lace garments on before putting on your planned outfit, a cute-but-subtly-sexy low cut romper. You put on a light face of makeup, purely for professionalism’s sake, then head out with a small bag which contains various personal items as well as your script and composition page.

He’s not in his backstage office when you arrive, but he comes in a couple minutes later, a strong stench of cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he walks by your chair.

“I apologize for the delay. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

You shake your head as he takes a seat behind the ratty oak desk, shifting a few small stacks of papers around on the heavily scratched surface.

“No, no I wasn’t waiting long.”

He nods, then folds his hands atop the desk, eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, his eyes dart down to where your cleavage creeps out of your low-cut top.

“You’ve got the part.” Charlie says with a small smile. “You’re by far the best and most qualified audition we had yesterday, and I like the way you carry yourself. You’re exactly the type of person I like working with. Part’s yours if you want it.”

You’re overcome with joy, a wide smile spreading itself across your lips. “I’d love to be a part of this production, Mr. Barber. I’m really excited to get to work with you and the rest of the crew.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it.” He nods, smile widening when as he processes your acceptance. His delighted expression falls after a few moments, replaced by one much more salacious.

“Now that we’ve gotten that part out of the way...I think you know why I called a meeting of such, uh, privacy.”

You smirk softly, shifting around in your seat slightly. “I believe I do.”

His feet plant on the ground as he pushes the rolling office chair out from under the desk, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over you.

“Before anything happens, though, I want you to know that whether or not you do this with me will not affect my casting decision. Even if you decline, you still have the part.”

You nod before standing, quickly and swiftly, stepping forward to press yourself flush against him.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Your hands rest on his chest, neck craning slightly to look up at him. “Just kiss me, will you?”

He laughs, massive hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he bends down and connects your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s nothing tender or gentle about this embrace, it’s all tongue and teeth, raw lust coursing between your two bodies.

“Couch.” His voice is soft but husky.

“Unzip me first?” You ask, turning around so he can unzip you. He does, then his hands slide down to your hips and pushes you towards the leather couch tucked in the corner of his office.

The material squeaks when you’re laid down on top of it, head resting comfortably on the cushy fabric accent pillow as he climbs on top of you. He presses his hips forward while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and plants kisses on the skin there.

Your eyes widen as his impressive bulge rubs up against your inner thigh and you quickly wonder how in the world you’ll be able to take him. His crooked teeth scrape over the taut muscles in your neck while his hands pull the backs of your romper down over your shoulders.

His hands grab and grope your breasts beneath where they rest in your nice bra, one you wore just for him, and your back arches slightly up off the cushions with a soft sigh.

A small smile crosses his expression, teeth sinking gently into your neck. “I like the little noises you make for me, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, running your hands through his hair. “Then I bet you’ll like my moans, too. If you think you can draw them out of me, that is.”

He laughs softly, sucking and licking at at the place his teeth have just abused. “Is that a challenge?”

“Well, it’s more like an invitation to prove yourself, but ‘challenge’ is also a good word for it.”

Charlie pulls away with a smirk, shaking his head as he sits back on his haunches and begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Brat.”

Once he’s undone his pants and pulled them down enough to expose himself to you, he leans down once more and pulls your romper the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare, minus your undergarments. His eyes roam your figure for a moment before he dips a hand beneath the patch of black fabric nestled between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as his fingertips swipe over your erect clit, giving it a few little circles before yanking the panties off your hips and down your ankles, tossing them down alongside your previously-discarded romper.

His eyes widen in realization, cheeks flushing pink.

“Do you have any, um, protection?”

You smirk, nodding as you sit up and pat his chest. “Indeed, I do.”

He crawls off of you and you walk over to your purse, grabbing a condom from the mini-stash you keep in your wallet, the one you replenished just minutes before you left the house this afternoon. He takes it from you and pinches the tip, rolling it down his shaft. For a moment, you’re worried that it isn’t going to fit, but he rolls it on with little issue.

His hips press forward, then, entering you slowly but steadily with a soft grunt. You whine as your insides stretch out around him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. “S-Shit.”

“You’re really fucking tight, jesus.” He growls between gritted teeth, jaw screwed shut as his hips begin to move. “I haven’t fffucked anyone in a while, Y/N, so I can’t guarantee that I’ll last very long.”

You nod, softly. “It’s alright, Charlie; it’s been a little while for muh--me, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your face begins to scrunch up with each time his fat cockhead brushes up against your cervix. His pace increases after a minute or so, a consistent slap-slap-slap noise now echoing off the drywall with each snap of his hips.

“You’ve got a nice little pussy, you know that? Always knew you would be, too, knew you’d be a good little cccocksleeve.”

You moan shakily as he adjusts his position, towering over you and pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. Your body begins to bounce, tits, thighs and tummy jiggling each time he thrusts in.

He’s starting to sweat, a few dark hairs sticking to his dimly-glowing forehead, more and more accumulating there as his hair rocks back and forth in time with the rhythm of his hips.

“Touch yourself, now, rrrub your little clit.” His voice is getting shaky as he draws nearer to climax.

Nodding, your hand slides down between your joined bodies until your fingertips settle onto the small bundle of nerves. The hand that’s still weaved in Charlie’s locks clenches and he lets out a sudden deep growl, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Ooooh, Charlie.” You moan, hips lifting and gyrating against both his cock and your fingers.

“God, fffuck I love this cunt.” A vulgar squelching sound knits itself within the quilt of your salacious symphony. “Wrapped around my cock like a vice, gonna pull the fucking cum right out of it. Swear you get tighter each time I push back in...christ, I’m not gonna last.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, setting a desperate pace, one that almost matches his quick and sloppy thrusts. You’re close now, too, and it doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit.

You cream around him with a long moan and a string of various other noises, with a few profanities thrown in as well. The product of your release coats his shaft in a pearlescent sheen, dripping down his ball-sack soon enough.

The sensations your climax creates around Charlie forces him to pull away almost immediately after, quickly yanking the condom off and onto his office floor, squeezing the base of his flaming red length.

His hand seizes your jaw tightly, thumb pressing down on your tongue, prying your mouth open. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth and shove my cum down your throat, and you’re gonna take it all, isn’t that right?”

You’re nodding instantly, slacking your jaw to open even further in preparation for his upcoming intrusion. He smirks.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

He sits down where you once laid, lazily pumping his throbbing length as you get into position between his spread legs. He pulls your hair up into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, then lines you up with his cock and eases your mouth down onto him.

“Thaaaaaat’s it, oh, gooooood girl.”

You start gagging about three quarters of the way down his shaft, but he still keeps pushing until you’ve got the whole thing in your mouth. Your jaw’s already getting sore as he begins thrusting upwards, fucking your mouth.

Tears swell in your eyes and begin to spill down your cheeks the more he goes, mascara surely ruined and running down your face. The sight only arouses him further, a low groan rumbling through his puffed chest.

He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can manage, but soon he finds it next to impossible to hold back. His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as his length begins to twitch, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna--”

You taste and feel the salty ropes shooting down your throat before he can even finish his warning.

“Ah, fffuuuuck.” His head falls back against the couch cushions, hips bucking gently as each bit of release is spilled into your mouth. His grip on your head relaxes after he’s finished, cock softening while he catches his breath and re-grounds himself in reality.

Your chest heaves as full airflow returns to your lungs, knees and jaw aching a bit sore from their exertion. You grab your underwear from where they lay discarded on top of your romper, putting them back on before standing up on somewhat shaky legs.

Charlie also redresses, standing and straightening himself out as you do the same.

“Mind zipping me back up?” You ask, turning around again.

He pulls the zipper up your back until it’s at the end of its tracks, then steps up behind you, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

A soft smile grazes your lips. “No ‘thanks’ needed; the sweet taste of revenge and spite is payment enough.”

He laughs quietly.

“Well, I’ll certainly be available, should you ever need a little replenishing of those feelings.”

“Mr. Barber, you wouldn’t be saying that because you’d like to see me naked again, now would you?” Your eyebrows raise and you look over your shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He laughs again, blushing a bit. “Uh, yeah, sure, I'd like that a lot. But I’d also like to see you, um...not naked, fully clothed, maybe at a restaurant in the city for dinner sometime? I totally get it if you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to...”

Holy shit, he’s asking you out on a date. Well, he’s trying to, at least.

You laugh, cheeks warming at his proposition.

“Sure thing. I just accepted this new job, though, so I’ll have to get back to you about my availability...”

Charlie smiles, shoving his hands down in his khaki pockets. “I’m sure your new boss would be more than willing to accommodate. He’s a pretty cool guy, or so I’ve heard. Handsome, too.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you have a reliable informant.” You turn around as you laugh softly, grabbing your bag off the chair before stepping up in front of him. Your lips plant a quick peck on his, hands resting on his broad chest. “See you soon.”

He nods, biting his lip to hold back his big, goofy smile.

“Can’t wait.”

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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Riding High Ch11: It Was The Leprechauns...

Summary: Frank and Fliss bring Alex home and settle into their ‘new’ normal. Meanwhile the Circle of Truth, with honorary members Steve and Bill take Frank out to wet the baby’s head…although it isn’t so much wet as drowned! Drunk Frank anyone??

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Ok, so I had a bit of fun with this one. Very Frank heavy but…yeah, who cares, he’s my weakness!! Also this song happens to be one of my favourites by one of my favourite Brit Pop era bands- always used to bounce about to this in the Indie Clubs in my city so give it a listen! Chapter Song: Disco Down by Shed 7

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

And the plastic must keep spinning around forever, and the memories will flood and keep us together

As Frank slowed the truck to a stop Fliss smiled and looked out of the window. "Glad to be home?" Frank asked, turning to look at her and she reached through the gap in the front seats, gently placing her hand on Alex's tummy where he was fastened into the baby seat. "Yeah." She nodded, looking at Frank before giving him a soft kiss. "Yeah I am." Frank grinned again before he moved to get out of the car, opening the back door for Fliss, offering her his hand as she slowly slid out. He then made his way to the front passenger side and leaned in to unclip the car seat. As he did so his t-shirt rode up a little at the back and Fliss cocked her head to the side as the flash of his boxer shorts which were visible where his jeans had dropped slightly on his hips. "Are you wearing Spongebob underwear?" She asked and he gave a chuckle as he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "They're cool." He said, his eyebrow rising over the top of his aviators. "Whatever you say sailor."

"You bought em Cowgirl." he said, pulling back out of the car, the handle of the baby seat clutched safely in his hand. "Actually it was Mary." She smiled as he shut the car door. “They were her Father’s Day Specials if I recall correctly.” “Yeah they were.” He chuckled and at that moment the door to the house opened and the girl herself shot out, Thor running past her straight up to Fliss whereas Mary made her way to Frank, hugging him tightly. "Hey boy..." Fliss smiled, ruffling his head. Alex chose that moment to make a little simpering noise and Thor turned his head to look at him. Fliss closed her hand round his collar as Frank held the baby carrier still. The two of them watched as Thor gently pushed his nose into the car seat sniffing the curious new object and when Alex moved he jerked back, head cocking to one side before his tail began to wag furiously and he gave an excited little wine.

"He likes him!" Mary grinned.

"That right? He meet with your approval boy?" Frank asked and Thor pushed his nose back, this time concentrating on sniffing the baby.

"Ok, enough Thor, good boy." Fliss yanked him back, giving him another pat. "Let's get inside."

Frank took her hand in his and the two of them headed up the steps to the porch where Evelyn was waiting. Frank looked at her and stopped, pushing his aviators up.

“You look like shit.” He smirked. “She’s hungover.” Mary grinned.

“It was a heavy night.” Evelyn said in justification as Frank grinned at Fliss.

“Party went well then?” Fliss smiled and Evelyn groaned.

“Your dad brought out his home made coconut rum.” She said, following them into the cool house.

Fliss grimaced “Yeah, that’s deadly stuff. Me and Steve got wasted on that once, I was hungover for days.” “It tasted quite nice.” Evelyn said, “But it doesn’t feel very nice today.” Frank gently placed the car seat on the coffee table and turned to look at his mother “I’m not sure whether I should be embarrassed or proud. Maybe both.”

“Piss off Frank.” She shot back and he let out a bark of a laugh. “I’m going to make a cup of tea, does anyone want one?”

Fliss eagerly accepted as she sat down on the sofa, her hand reaching out to undo the fastenings on the car seat. She couldn’t wait to get Alex in her arms again. Frank perched on the arm of the sofa, his hand gently rubbing between Fliss’ shoulder blades as she cradled their gently, his head resting against her shoulder as he peeked around the room with his baby blues.

“How is he?” Mary asked as she approached, dropping onto the seat at the other side of Fliss.

“He’s good.” Fliss said, before she looked at Mary “Do you want to hold him again?”

Mary nodded eagerly so Frank stood up and moved round the back of the sofa, propping the cushions up to help Mary sit up right. Fliss placed Alex into her arms and he lay still, apart from his hands which gently fisted up by his face.

Evelyn had a hold next once she had finished her tea and then headed off to the annex for a lay down and to give them a bit of time alone, not wanting to overstep. Mary asked if she could head to the yard so Frank wandered out to watch her climb over the fence and head over to Joanne. The girl gave a wave which he acknowledged and then she shouted over to him.

“Hey daddy! How’s mommy?”

“She’s great!” Frank yelled back, beaming as he nodded to Mary “She gives you any trouble, send her straight home!”

Joanne waved him away and he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him.

Fliss was feeding Alex again when he walked back in and once he was done he went down for a nap which the new parents took full advantage of, grabbing some sleep themselves. They’d been up 3 times in the night with him, and sleeping whilst he slept seemed like a damned fine idea, even if it was only for 40 minutes or so until Frank woke up, his neck cricked from where he’d had it lay against the arm of the sofa, Fliss was snuggled up with her head on his chest, lay secure between him and the back cushions. He stayed as still as he could so as not to wake her, giving a soft huff of laughter at Thor who was led by the basinet, curled up, eyes on Alex. Frank found himself pondering if the dog could possibly know that their baby was what had been in Fliss’ belly and whether he could smell something or not to that effect because he was being extremely protective, the same way he had been over Fliss at the start of her pregnancy. As he watched the dog curiously, Fliss stirred a little and he gave her head a soft kiss, but she didn’t wake.

Yet their son did. He gave a little murmur, the beginnings of a cry and Franky quickly and quietly moved, keeping Fliss’ head supported enough as he grabbed a cushion and laid her down so she could continue to rest. He picked Alex up, and as suspected he needed a diaper change. That was one thing Frank had plenty of practice on. A little while later once he was cleaned he gently picked him back up and took him for walk round the ground floor of the house, talking to him softly as he went. A little while later he heard Fliss calling his name. He wandered back into the family area at the back of the house and she smiled at him.

“You ok baby?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just wondered where you were.”

“Been showing him round.” Frank smiled and glanced at Alex whose mouth was resting against his collar bone. “He’s been changed. Hasn’t made a noise since.” He watched as Fliss’ eyes fell on her son and he gently sat down next to her. “Do you want him?” She hesitated before she gave a little smile. “Of course I do but he’s your son too Frank.” “Maybe we need a snuggle rota.” He smiled.

Fliss laughed “I get enough momma bear time when he’s feeding, I can’t be too selfish about it. If he’s happy with you then I might grab a shower.”

“Have a bath and then take another nap if you need one.” Frank looked at her. “You had a busy day yesterday.”

“One way of putting it.” She smiled. “Erm, I was actually thinking that maybe before he wants feeding again I could take him to the Yard to meet Joanne and the guys?” "I forgot to say she asked after you before." Frank smiled, as he gently readjusted Alex slightly “Bet she’d love to see him, and it’ll give you chance to check everything is running smoothly." "Yeah.” Fliss smiled before she bit her lip and then looked at Frank. “Should I take him in the stroller or the baby sling?" "What do you wanna take him in?" Frank asked. "Well, the sling would be nice but it’s whatever is best for him, I mean it is warm and the sun-" "Liss, it’s almost 4 pm." Frank cut her off "The sun will be cooling off shortly and besides, we got him plenty of sun hats. Pop one on and just keep in the shade as much as you can, he’ll be fine I promise you." "Ok." She nodded, looking at Alex, still biting her lip. She was nervous, Frank could tell. And he knew that rather than letting herself get worried and tense about it, it was better to offer her his hand so to speak. She would soon come round once she realised that she could cope perfectly fine. "Do you want me to come with you?" He asked gently. "Please." She looked at him before she glanced at her hands. "I know it's stupid, Frank, but..." "Hey, no, it’s not honey." He assured her and waited for her to look at him and he smiled "Look, I’m nervous about stuff too." "You've done this before" "Only from 6 months." He said gently "But you helped Diane..." "You telling me you never helped out with Charlie and Joel when they were born?" he said calmly. She fell silent and he continued. "It's not a science, no matter what all those so called expert books and manuals say." He smiled gently "it's just a lot of instinct and love. And common sense." He added.

“That’s us fucked then” she quipped and he gave a soft chuckle as she shook her head, her hand smoothing over the back of her son��s head. "I know. You're right. I’m sorry." "Nothing to be sorry for." He assured her "I like that you’re telling me how you feel and that’s what we gotta do ok? Be honest with each other and do this together yeah?" She looked up at him and smiled "Yeah." He gave her a gentle kiss "I love you.” “You too.” She smiled, laying her head against his.

“Now, go on, get showered and then let’s go show our boy off."

***** The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of sleepless nights, feedings, changing nappies and outfits (both Alex’s and theirs following the amount of times he spit up on them) plenty of visitors and juggling a new baby with Mary's return to school. Frank grumbled one night to Fliss that with the amount of visitors they had, their front door should have been a revolving one but she knew that despite his gripes he was secretly low key pleased that his friends couldn't wait to meet Bean. It was tiring but thanks to some help and Advice from the health visitors and Fliss' mom they worked out a pretty good routine between the pair of them for night feeds, introducing Alex to formula was the best thing they did in Fliss' opinion because their baby fed an incredible amount. Which, apparently was another thing he got from his father according to Evelyn. A fortnight after Alex's birth, Frank returned back to work. Fliss had been reluctant to let him go, begging him to take an extra week but as he pointed out if he did that he would be stuck for the week before Christmas. In the end, because Fliss was flapping about being on her own with him for so long, Verity had come round for the first day to keep her company and be on hand. Frank knew that Fliss would get better as time went by and whilst she was still a little nervous- constantly worrying about the little noises or crying he did when she couldn't immediately figure out what it was he wanted- it was best she had someone there.

His theory that she would be fine in time was right, and by the middle of his first week back she was still a little tentative with certain things but happy to be on her own for the afternoons, Verity only coming in the mornings. And when he came back home on the Thursday evening, Fliss was actually over at the yard with Alex in the sling, chatting to Joanne and helping out with the lesson plans. It had made him beyond happy she'd ventured out alone, even if it was only to the end of their drive. The following week, on the Tuesday, she told Frank she was going to tell her mother not to come over the next day and Frank encouraged her to do so, reminding her that her parents and him were only a little drive away if she needed them. But she didn’t, she coped fine, just as he had assured her she would, even if she did message him a few times that morning which he didn’t mind at all.

On the Thursday, almost 3 weeks to the date she had gone into labour, Fliss was sat in the Garden with a drink and a book. Alex was sleeping in the cool of the kitchen, not far from the door so he was in eyesight at all times. Not that any harm would come to him with Thor on sentry duty, mind. The German shepherd had taken it upon himself to be the little boy's personal guard and was never far away. He lay by the bassinet when Alex slept there, curled down the side of their bed at night as Alex lay in the bedside sleeper and when the infant was being fed or cuddled he would jump up onto the couch if possible to watch or simply sit by the feet of whoever had him, eyes trained on them the whole time. Fliss was convinced Thor thought Alex was some kind of hairless puppy. She reached the end of her chapter and was just heading inside for a refill of iced tea (her craving for apple juice completely gone and she was back to hating the stuff) when her phone went.

“Yo, Titch…” Her brother spoke and she smiled “How’s that beautiful little Nephew of mine?” “He’s fine…and so am I thanks for asking.” “Yeah, well it ain’t all about you.” Steve said and Fliss rolled her eyes “Listen, me and dad are trying to get Frank to come out for a few beers tomorrow wetting the baby’s head to so to speak but he is refusing.” “He’s tired.” Fliss said, “Alex woke at 3 and didn’t settle till 5. Frank was up at 7 for work so he probably just wants to catch up on his sleep.” “Yeah, well he can sleep on Saturday.” Steve said “He’s been fobbing us now ever since we first asked 2 weeks ago.” At that Fliss frowned. “He didn’t mention you’d asked.” “He didn’t?” “No.” she said pausing. Whilst Frank had certainly calmed down on that respect since they had first gotten together, it wasn’t like him to turn down the offer of a night out with the boys, and she could only assume it was down to Alex.

“Well we have and Dad’s desperate to take him out for a few beers. Can you see if you can work your magic?” “You want me to beg my fiancée to go out drinking, whilst I stay at home with our 3 week old baby?” Fliss asked.

“Yes.” Steve replied simply “You’re a dick.” She shook her head, “I’ll mention it to him when he gets back but I’m not promising anything.”

Frank arrived home a little over an hour later, to find Fliss led on one of the sun-loungers in the shade, Alex resting on her chest, her bare legs stretched out in front of her.

“Busy afternoon?” he quipped and she pulled her shades down to glare at him. “That was a joke.” “We had a very busy day actually.” She looked up at him. “We went to the store this morning, then to see Roberta this afternoon, and then came home, I made meatloaf for dinner and then I had a few hours out here whilst he slept. Then he barfed up all over me and now I have sick in my hair.”

Frank let out a laugh and shook his head as she bent her legs so he could perch on the end of the lounger. She shifted a little and cocked her head.

“Where’s Mary, and why are you so clean?” “Mary has gone up to see Monty and I’m clean because I’ve been in the office and shop all day working on the rotas and a few other pieces of administration for when Alan leaves.” He shrugged “I apologise sincerely for the lack of grease and dirt.” “So you should.” She grinned “But, seeing as you’re so clean…” she moved and sat up slightly so she could hand Alex over to his daddy who took him tenderly, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Why don’t you grab a shower if you’re bothered about your hair?” he offered and she nodded, standing up.

“Hey, I was thinking this weekend you could try him in the pool” she shrugged “I can’t go in for another couple of weeks yet, according to google but you could.”

Frank hesitated “How about we wait, then we can do it together huh?”

“Ok.” She smiled “I won’t be long.”

He shook his head “Take as much time as you need. Not going anywhere.”

“Hmm, yeah, I heard.” Frank looked at her “What?”

“Steve called before. Said that Dad’s been trying to get you to go out for a drink but you’re refusing.” Frank let out a groan. “They've been on at me for the last week or so, as have the Circle Of Truth boys. Say I need to go wet the baby’s head so to speak.” “You should” she looked at him. “It’s tradition.” Frank pulled a face.

“Are you seriously turning down a night out?” Fliss looked at him.

“No, just temporarily putting it on hiatus”

Fliss snorted “Loser.” “I don’t see you clamouring to go out.” He looked at her.

“Well, actually, I was thinking of going to Lunch with Bonnie on Sunday.” Fliss shrugged “She said Rio’s are launching a new menu so…” “You should go.” Frank encouraged her, smiling softly.

“I will if you go out on Friday.” She shot back. Frank rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Why are you so keen to get rid of me for a night?” “I’m not.” Fliss shrugged “Just think it’s nice that they all want to celebrate with you.” She paused and looked down at her hands before she took a breath and looked back up a Frank. “You’re not refusing to go because you don’t think I can cope are you? Because-“ “No, no baby of course not.” He shook his head sincerely “That’s not it at all, I just, well I wasn’t that bothered.”

“Ok.” She nodded, accepting his answer.

Frank watched her for a second, mulling things over. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go and see everyone, but he just enjoyed being at home. It was strange in a way. When he had moved down here with Mary, pretty much right from the off when he met Roberta he’d taken his Friday nights and Saturday mornings as his own, and he’d needed them or he would have probably gone insane. But now, it was different. And he knew it was because Fliss was here too. Someone to spend the evenings with when Mary was in bed. That said, he also knew it was important for them to have their own time as well, and if he was honest, the idea of wetting his own baby’s head was kind of appealing. “Actually…” he said, looking down at Alex. “I think I will go. The more I think about it, the more fun it sounds. And we did it for both of Jake’s so..” She smiled and stood up, giving him a soft kiss. “Good, you can call Steve and give him the good news.” Frank watched her head inside before he looked down at Alex who was fisting his tiny hands around his open button down. Smiling, he shifted slightly, holding him up with one strong arm as he grabbed his phone in the other. First he sent Steve a quick message calling him a sly bastard and then fired one off to the Circle Of Truth chat saying they were on for drinks. Steve replied first with a simply middle finger emoji along with the words “see you tomorrow.”

“Your Uncle is a pain in the ass.” He grumbled to Alex before he smiled, stood up and headed inside to grab a Bud.

******

“Right does everyone have a beer?” Bill looked around the group. Steve, Frank, Simon, Greg and Jake all raised their bottles. “Ok then, in honour of my beautiful daughter giving birth to my third amazing grandson, Alexander Francis William. Cheers lads!”

Frank smiled and raised his beer as the group all let out various cheers and calls, before taking a large drink from his bottle.

“Still can’t believe you stuck the name Francis in there.” Jake looked at Frank who raised his middle finger in response.

“Get fucked, and I didn’t. Fliss did.” “Clearly delirious with the pain.” Simon nodded and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up…” he took a drink from his bottle.

They stood chatting for an hour or so before Simon decided it was time for shots. There were groans and half-assed protests, Greg complaining loudly that a Head Wetting night was supposed to be civilised. At that Frank almost choked on his beer and turned to his best friend, shaking his head.

“Greg, the last Baby’s Head wetting we went to for Jake’s Annie, you were kicked out of the burrito place for spilling drinks all over the table and trying to wipe up the mess with other people’s tortillas.”

The group laughed and Greg shrugged. “Well at last I’ve never hid in the bushes and called four Ubers to play hide and seek.” He pointed at Frank who snorted.

“That was…yeah…it was a very heavy night.” “No shit.” Jake mumbled “I woke up in the morning looking for my phone. Couldn’t find it anywhere but there was like a random piece of toast on the nightstand. Then I heard Lisa shouting. My phone was in the microwave covered with melted cheese.”

Steve snorted at that and hastily turned away as his beer came out of his nose, causing Frank to laugh even harder as Bill chuckled and shook his head.

“I was staying at my mom’s that night.” Simon mused as the laughter died down. “I was in between apartments remember? I woke up in the dog’s bed downstairs. Apparently she had come down from bed when I came in and I told her I felt sorry for Barney sleeping in the kitchen alone and I climbed into his basket with him…she just left me there.”

“You lot are worse than my gang, and that’s saying something.” Steve grinned.

“Bull shit.” Frank pointed at him. “Fliss told me loads of stuff you used to get up to.”

“Yeah, come on Ringo, you must have some stupid drunk tales.” Jake turned to Steve who grinned.

“Oh I got plenty as Frankie boy said, thing is a hell of a lot of them involve Fliss.” He shrugged and the boys laughed, Frank snorting.

“I think my personal favourite was the time you set fire to the kitchen curtains.” Bill said, and Steve grinned.

“Yeah we were high then though Dad, not drunk.”

“High?” Simon looked at Steve before he glanced at Frank who shrugged “Damned Frank, your girl’s a little bit of a rebel on the sly ain’t she?” “You have no idea.” Frank smirked, raising his eyebrow.

“Dude that’s my sister.” Steve nudged him and Frank shrugged, taking another swig of his beer.

“She was though.” Bill smiled fondly “You and her were always up to mischief. As soon as she was old enough to go drinking she was hanging around with your lot.”

“That was because she fancied Lee.” Steve snorted.

The group all sniggered and Frank laughed “Is that the guy she dated for a year or so?” “Yes, much to my disgust.” Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Was his disgust too when you punched him.” Bill said and Steve sighed.

“He was shagging my little sister.” He shook his head. “Just…no.”

The group all snorted and Frank groaned “Ok, I don’t want to know anymore…” “You have no room to be all coy about it!” Simon looked at him “Your antics in here before you got with Fliss…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Frank sighed “Can we change the subject?”

At that point he felt someone shove him in the back and he stumbled forward, banging into Steve, spilling his beer slightly. There was a bit of a commotion as the rest of the group all rallied behind him and Frank spun round.

“Really, really sorry…” A dark haired man with a strong Irish accent was apologising to the group “I tripped and…” “Fine, just watch where you’re going yeah?” Steve looked at him as Frank brushed his shirt down.

“He just said he was sorry.” The man to his left, a smaller red head shot back “It was an accident.” “Yeah and I was just telling him to be more careful.” Steve frowned.

“Or what?”

Bill sighed and turned round “Look, we don’t want any trouble. Apology accepted so…”

The two men eyed up the group before they turned away and headed for the bar.

“Right…” Simon said, breaking the tension slightly “Shots and then who’s up for a game of pool?”

“Do we have to? I’m crap.” Steve shook his head and Frank looked at him.

“Yeah, I heard that before from a Gallagher.” He snorted. Steve and Bill frowned and he explained to them both “On our first date Fliss hustled me big time, right at that table actually...” Steve snorted “She used to do that to all of my mates. 9 times outta 10 we’d come home with more money than we started with.” He paused and looked down at his feet, before watched Bill as he turned to Simon who was heading to the bar, following him over, making insistences that he was paying again as it was his Grandson’s party so to speak. He looked back at Frank and smiled. “Dad’s right, she was fun. We had some good times, thick as thieves before she met that cunt and left for Boston.”

“Yeah she told me a bit about how close you were.” Frank smiled “But you still are now. It’s nice.” “Got you to thank for that.” Steve looked at him “She’s back to her old self, better dare I say it.”

Frank smiled shyly, the way he always did when he was accredited with Fliss’ ‘turn-around’. “I don’t know if I can take full credit for it, I mean…” “You gave her another chance.” Steve cut him off “A chance of happiness with a guy that’s decent and treats her right.” He shrugged “Just the way we all see it anyway.” Frank’s mind flickered back to the moments after Alex had been born when Fliss had rather tearily declared pretty much the same to his face. He shrugged and smiled softly “Yeah, well, I was a mess until I met her to so…I guess you could say we helped each other out.” At that point a shot of tequila was shoved into his hand along with a wedge of lime and Simon held up the salt shaker.

“Drink, bitches!” he grinned, and Frank let out a soft groan. This was going to get messy.

******

A couple of shots later and several more rounds of beer, the group were all starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, so when Bill ordered them all a bourbon, none of them really raised much of a protest. They stood by the pool table, the game of killer taking a lot longer than it would have had they were sober and Simon slung his arm over Frank’s shoulder.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked and Frank looked at him, squinting a little.

“Well it depends.” Frank replied “On what it is. Like if you killed someone I might be obliged to tell the police…” “What about if he was an ass hole and deserved to die?”

Frank paused, before he took a mouthful of his bourbon “OK, well maybe not in that instance.” Simon nodded “Good to know, but no..it’s…” he looked around and then grinned “Imma ask Bonnie to marry me.” “No way man!” Frank beamed, “That’s awesome. Congratulations.” “She aint said yes yet.”

“Well why wouldn’t she?”

Simon shrugged “I know, I’m a catch.” Frank laughed. “No, I’m pleased for you pal.” “Thanks.” Simon smiled “You know, I still don’t think it’s fair you’ve seen her naked and I aint seen Fliss…” Before Frank could reply and call him an asshole Steve jumped in “I’m sorry what?” Frank groaned. “Nothing, Simon was…” “Frank slept with my girl.” Simon said bluntly, “Before Fliss…” he added hastily as Steve’s frown deepened. Steve looked at Frank. “You were with Bonnie?” “Not really, it…” Frank groaned “It was one night, we were drunk…can we not do this?”

“Does Fliss know?” Steve looked at Frank, a smirk on his face.

“Yes she does, she saw us. It nearly ended up in us not getting together in the first place so I really don’t wanna think about it.” “Apparently in the middle of giving Bonnie one he said Fliss’ name.” Simon grinned and Frank let out a loud groan as Steve choked on his drink.

“I fahkin’ hate you.” Frank glared at Simon who was now laughing into his glass.

“Oh my God, Frank…” Steve smacked him on the back “The more time I spend with you the more I love you pal.” “Thanks…I think…” “Hey, you guys ever gonna finish this game or what?”

They all turned to look at the Irish guys who had bumped into them before.

“I dunno, maybe.” Jake stood up, leaning on his cue, “Why?”

“Coz we’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Well then you can just wait longer.” Steve shot back, and the group sniggered.

“Fucking Yanks…” The guy mumbled as he turned around and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Who you calling a Yank you stupid Irish prick, I’m from Liverpool.” “Ok, ok…let’s…” Bill spoke loudly, hiccupping a little as he put his arm out to stop Steve who had been walking towards the man that had spoken “Just calm down alright. Soon as we’re done you can have the pool table.”

“Yeah so hot foot back to the other Leprechauns over there…” Steve waved him away.

“Steven.” Bill warned him, shaking his head. Steve looked at his dad before he shrugged and turned back to Frank who was stood there, grinning.

“You know what Steeby?” Frank drained his glass “The more I hang with you, the more I love you too…”

It was an hour or so later when they all stumbled out of the bar and after hugs and backslaps they headed to their various waiting Ubers. As they passed a large blue truck, Bill paused before he unsteadily dropped to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Frank swayed a little, before he turned to Steve “What is he doing?”

Steve stumbled a little and shrugged “Dad…what…are you letting the air out of the tyre?” “Yup” Bill said, standing up, wiping his hands on his jeans before he pushed one through his short, grey hair. “It belongs to those little Irish wankers in the bar, saw one of them get out of it before.” Frank looked at his future father in law, before he looked at Steve who was smirking ear to ear.

“I told you when you were a kid.” Bill pointed at Steve as the three of them staggered to the waiting car. “Easy, easy catchy monkey.”

*****

"Heyyy." Frank beamed as he stood in the doorway. Fliss looked up and smiled as he walked a little unsteadily towards her. "Hi beautiful". "Hi handsome." She smiled back as he leaned down over her. He smelt of beer and bourbon as he placed a soft kiss to her lips and she grinned "good time?" "Well..." he perched on the arm next to her and glanced down at Alex, his finger smoothing his hungrily working cheek "we certainly wet his head so to speak." He hiccupped slightly and Fliss looked up at him, smiling "yeah, it appears that way" "Your dad's fault." He said, sliding off the arm of the sofa onto the seat next to her, sprawling out slightly, his long legs stretching out in front of him "He kept buying it. I mean one minute my glass was empty and the next it was full again." "Sure he twisted your arm..." "He did, honest Lissy..." Frank nodded "I kept saying no more...I need to get home to my girls and my boy but Bill...he is BAD" Fliss looked at Frank who was watching Alex feed before his eyes flickered up to hers and he grinned. "Your boobs look great." She snorted "Sorry but for the time being they belong to your son." "Lucky bastard" "Well I hate to point it out to you but that's actually what they're designed for." "Hmmm" Frank closed his eyes. "Go to bed." Fliss nudged him gently "In a minute..." he said before his eyes flicked open "Ah fahk." "What?" Fliss asked as Alex pulled away having had his fill. She adjusted herself then him so he was over her shoulder as Frank stood up. "My jacket." "Baby you didn't take one." "Yes I did." He insisted. "Frankie I promise you, you didn't." He looked at her, before be clicked his fingers and pointed "it was the leprechauns."

“The leprechauns?”

Frank nodded “Yes, the Irish guys…they must have taken my jacket.”

Fliss looked at him, before she shook her head “Ok, course he did. You should speak to him tomorrow and get it back.” “I intend to.”

“You do that.”

“I will.” He nodded firmly before he turned and headed out of the room, banging onto the frame as he went.

Fliss laughed quietly at him, before she reached for her phone and text her mum asking her if she was awake.

“I wasn’t until your dad and brother turned up 20 minutes ago. They're in a right state.”

“So is Frank, keeps talking about a leprechaun stealing his jacket...but he didn’t even take one with him.” “Your Dad was grumbling about Irish Tourists and then started laughing about a flat tyre or something. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

“God knows, they’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.” “I’ve left your dad asleep on the kitchen floor after he lay down there hugging a plate of left-overs from dinner. Steve at least managed to make it to his room.” Fliss exchanged a few more amusing messages with her mother before she gave a yawn and glanced down at Alex. He was nodding off again so she stood up, turned off the lights and headed upstairs.

Frank was face down on the bed in his shirt and boxers. Fliss shook her head, smiling as she placed Alex down in the bedside sleeper, tucking him in before she moved round the bed towards Frank.

“Frankie…” she gently nudged him. “Sailor…” He mumbled into his pillow.

“Ok, come on…” she nudged him again. “Take your shirt off and get in bed.” Frank let out a dirty chuckle as he pushed himself up, pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Then he reached up, grabbed Fliss and pulled her down onto the bed, laughing as she let out a little squeak of surprise. He leaned over her, smiling down before he gave her a soft kiss.

“I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you.” He said, “In fact...I think we should set a date. Properly and book it. We did say this time next year.”

Fliss smiled and ran her hand through his hair, her hand making its way down to his neck where she gently scratched his skin with her nails. He closed his eyes, making a soft noise of satisfaction in his throat.

“Sounds good to me.” She smiled. He opened one eye and grinned.

“Yeah?” “Yeah.” She nodded. “But we can talk about it in the morning? Bean’s gonna be up again in a few hours and I need some beauty sleep.” “Nah you don’t” he shook his head “You’re gorgeous.” Fliss chuckled “Smooth.” “I try.” He said, giving her another kiss before he pulled away “But before we go to sleep, can you do me a favour?” “What?” “Can I see your boobs? Just see em, I promise, no touchy…” he held his hand up, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, even if they were slightly glazed from the alcohol.

Fliss arched an eyebrow at him before she sat up, and pulled the shirt she was wearing up to flash her chest at him. Frank gave a moan and she laughed before she dropped her top down to cover herself up.

“You’re killing me sweetheart.” He mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. He placed a soft kiss just under her ear, trailing his lips down her neck to her jaw line.

“Frank…” Fliss sighed, her eyes closing as his lips met hers, his kiss strong and passionate. She let herself go with it for a moment, enjoying the feeling. She loved kissing him, it was pretty much her favourite thing to do, and it helped he was so damned good at it. Eventually she pulled away and pressed her forehead to his. “Baby I can’t not yet…” “I know, I know.” He sighed, “Sorry. I just…” She smiled, reaching up and cupping his face “It’s ok.” “Just so you know, as soon as you can, I’m gonna fuck you senseless.” He mumbled, giving her another soft kiss.

“Wow, romantic. The first time we can do it after I give birth to your kid you’re gonna fuck me senseless.” “Yeah but, I’ll make you feel gooood.” He drew out the word and she grinned.

“You always do Sailor.” He smiled, his lips once more pecking hers before he pushed himself up and started pulling the bed covers down. He settled sideways on the bed, leaning over her slightly to glance at Alex who was sleeping before Fliss turned off the light and settled next to him as his arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her close.

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Fill Me In

Hey guys☺️! Just wanted to say this idea was inspired by the song “Fill Me In” by Craig David, which is one of my faves and I would definitely recommend if you guys want to look it up

Pairing: Colin SheaxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff!💕

Warm, soft lips peppering the back of your neck with gentle kisses, you giggle to yourself as you begin to stir under your covers lazily draped over you and your boyfriend’s bodies. Twisting your body around, you’re met with familiar calming blue eyes that now looked the lightest shade of green from the bit of sunlight peaking through the sheer curtains and hitting his face just right.

“Morning beautiful. Sleep well?,” he lazily smiles with groggy, morning voice still intact making your stomach flutter.

“Mhm,” you nod as he kisses your lips, already leaving you breathless and hoping you can stay like this all day.

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Honestly, nothing besides getting breakfast and eventually lunch and dinner.”

“Oh good, which means we have all the time we want for this.” Leaning down to your neck, you feel lips making their way from your collarbone back up to your jaw leaving more sweet kisses and destined hickeys. Giggling even more from the sensation on your most ticklish spot, your hands make their way to the back of his neck and run through his short, dark brown hair while he holds you close making it impossible to escape.

Loudly vibrating the wood of the nightstand, your phone interrupts your giggle fit, however Colin could care less as he continued his antics.

“Babe cmon let me get the phone really quick.”

With a light huff, he groans into your neck taking a break from his love bites to let you lean over to your waiting phone.

“Hey mom.”

“Hey sweetie! From the sound of your voice I can tell you’re still in bed,” she chuckles.

“Yea I had a late night getting some things done for work.”

“As well as other things,” Colin quietly adds making you smack his chest.

“That’s my girl! Get that work done sweetie,” your dad shouts, smile being felt over the phone and making you laugh.

“Thanks dad, I’m trying.”

“Well hopefully you’ve gotten enough rest because we’re 15 minutes away.”

“Oh from Boston?”

“No, from the apartment!” Quickly sitting up and accidentally scaring Colin, you feel your heart race and stomach grow queasy. “We wanted to surprise you since we haven’t seen you in a while and I even brought all your favorites to cook for you.”

“Aww thanks mom, you guys really didn’t have to do that though.”

“We know but we wanted to, now go ahead and get dressed we’ll be there soon. Bye!”

“Bye,” you reply quickly hanging up your phone and clumsily leaping from the bed with the grey comforter wrapped around your body leaving your boyfriend confused as he sits up covering himself with the thin sheet left.

“So I’m guessing we’re not staying in bed all day?”

“No. My parents decided to pay me a surprise visit and will be here any minute so I have to get ready,” you answer rummaging through your closet like a tornado through a small town trying to pick something out.

“Oh ok, where are we going? I know this great place downtown that they’ll love,” he smiles picking his clothes from the floor and beginning to put them back on. Pausing as you finish securing your ankle length, slit skirt to your hips, that queasy feeling comes back in full force along with guilt from what you were about to say.

“Um actually they’re coming here since my mom’s gonna cook, but uh they’re expecting only the three of us to be there...,” you explain still facing the closet not wanting to see his reaction. Shaking his head, the bed squeaks from him sitting down looking at the carpet beneath his feet.

“You still haven’t told them about us.”

“Babe I’m sorry-,”

“We’ve been together almost a year Y/N. I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you being afraid to tell them or not wanting to because you’re ashamed.”

“What? No of course not!” Walking over to the bed, you crawl across the mattress to wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss his cheek from behind.

“I want to tell them it’s just I know how they get; especially my dad. That’s why I haven’t even mentioned me quitting my job.”

“Y/N you’re a grown adult, I get not wanting to potentially upset or disappoint them but you also have to live your life.”

“I know, and I promise I’ll stop being afraid...one day...eventually,” you reply making him chuckle. “Now I say this with all the love in my heart, but put on your clothes so you can get out please?”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughs before turning to peck your lips.

Following you down the wooden stairs of your loft apartment, he gives you one last kiss goodbye before opening your front door only to come face to face with your parents equally as surprised.

“Hey sweetie! Who is this?,” your mom smiles holding a couple bags of groceries.

“This is um-,”

“Colin. Colin Shea, nice to meet you Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Ohh this is Colin! Y/N’s mentioned hanging out with you a couple times, it’s nice to meet you as well. And please call me Diane.”

“Funny he’s never been mentioned to me,” your dad, Simon, speaks seemingly analyzing Colin.

“Yes he has, remember a while back she was going to listen to a band and she said her friend Colin would be there?”

“Oh right uh nice to meet you,” Simon half smiles making his way between the two of you to place a kiss on your forehead before setting the bags down in the kitchen.

“If you don’t have any plans Colin, you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Yea um about that-,”

“I’d love to!,” he smiles taking the bags from her as she walks in. “I can help out with cooking too if you want.”

“You’re so sweet, but that’s ok. Y/N and I have it, you just relax with Simon.”

“That’s Mr. Y/L/N,” he adds removing the various ingredients from the plastic bags.

Watching as your mom joins your father to start getting things prepared, you hold onto Colin’s arm halting him from the step he was about to take.

“What are you doing?,” you ask in a hushed tone not to be heard by your parents.

“Umm staying for dinner?”

“Colin I’m serious let me tell them when I’m ready. Do not try to ‘accidentally’ have it slip.”

“I know and I promise I won’t say anything. I’ll continue this night as your very close friend who has seen the oddly shaped birthmark at the top of your left buttcheek.”

“Colin!”

“Calm down you have nothing to worry about,” he winks moving to join your parents in the kitchen.

“This is definitely not how I imagined today going,” you thought as you took a deep breath and plastered the best smile you could muster on your face as if on the inside you weren’t screaming to the top of you lungs.

———

“And that was the day I learned that cats really don’t like water and officially became a dog person,” Colin finishes making you and your parents laugh. Taking a bite of the remaining dinner on your plate you were pleasantly surprised, and grateful, at how smoothly everything was going.

While you and your mom cooked, the men talked football on the couch and eventually sounded as if they had known each other longer than a couple hours from their back and forth of which team was better.

Colin being a Boston boy of course siding with the Patriots, while your dad adamantly argued the Falcons like the stan he is.

From football the conversation moved to other topics making you smile to yourself after every glance their way.

Seeing them get along so well, even over dinner, you were just hoping this was a good sign for things to come. Heck, you were so giddy you felt like telling your parents everything right then and there feeling as if nothing could damper the mood.

“So were you guys gonna tell us you’re seeing each other this trip or during the holidays when you also say you’ve eloped and I’m gonna be a grandpa?,” your dad asks sitting back in his chair with arms folded over his chest.

Andddd spoke too soon.

“W-What are you talking about? We’re just friends dad,” you nervously laugh looking at Colin doing the same as he drinks the water from his glass.

“So explain why you’re wearing his necklace then? And before you object, I know in fact it’s his because when he was showing me stats during our football debate I saw the picture on the screen was him and I’m guessing his friends and that same pendant was around his neck. So either you’re that close of friends that you having matching necklaces or something else is going on.”

Still drinking from his glass to avoid having to talk, you slightly shift in your seat unable to find any words to say.

“Or if that’s not enough for you, when we got up to come eat I could smell your perfume on his shirt,” he calmly explains leaning forward to take a bite of his mixed vegetables. “So tell us again how you’re ‘just friends’.”

“Dad I can explain-,”

“I don’t know who I’m more mad at, you my own daughter hiding stuff or you not being man enough to come tell me to my face, or even call, to say you’re seeing my daughter,” he replies directing his attention to a slightly offended Colin.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s me you should be the most upset at. Colin wanted to meet and talk to you guys but I told him no.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re overbearing and judgmental,” you blurt out before your brain could think of a nicer way to try to phrase it. Hand over his chest, he lightly gasps at your allegation while your mom avoids his eyes.

“I am not! But if I was it’s because I’m looking out for you.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’m a grown woman. At some point you’ve got to let me live my life and with the decisions I make whether you think they’re good or not.”

Sighing as his arms fold on the table, he looks over at your mom shaking his head while she busies herself folding the napkin in front of her.

“So you’re just gonna let our daughter talk to me like that?”

“You already know I’ve been telling you about easing up but nooo. Just like you’re daughter, you’re too stubborn.”

“Now that you mention it, she is really stubborn,” Colin adds.

“If you think she’s bad now you should’ve seen her as a child. Lord the tantrums,” your mom laughs along with Colin as if the prior events had never happened and they were still in the middle of a pleasant conversation.

“Okay I’m pretty sure we were talking about dad and not me.”

“Alright I may be a bit stubborn, but that still doesn’t make it right you sneaking around.”

“Simon please, you act like we never did the same thing,” she retorts making your dads eyes quickly fart in her direction trying to silence here while Colin wildly laughed as he leans his head back.

“I gotta have dinner with you guys more often.”

“You’re whole freshman year you’d beg me to come visit and send me bus tickets fully knowing my parents did not want me to be in your dorm.”

All eyes on him, your father sighs running a hand over his face looking defeated and embarrassed.

“Okay you caught me, I did the same things since I too wanted to live my life and do what I wanted. It’s actually funny because I remember telling myself whenever I had kids I’d never be like my parents, all trying to figure out your business and constantly breathing down your neck. But when I first held you and wanted to keep you untouched and protected, I realized that’s all our parents wanted from us too and slipped down that path,” he chuckles to himself shaking his head.

“I never wanted you to feel like you couldn’t come talk to me with any and everything on your mind and I’m sorry I have for all these years. It’s gonna take some time, but I promise to do better bun.” Giggle breaking through your hard expression at the use of your childhood nickname, you lean forward grabbing his hand with a small smile.

“I appreciate that dad.”

Softly squeezing your knee under the table, you turn to Colin tilting his head in your parents direction with a reassuring smile. Knowing what he was referring to, you take a breath mentally preparing yourself.

“And as part of me being more open, I think it’s a good time to tell you that I quit my job.” Blankly looking at you, your parents remain quiet as if they might not have caught what you just said.

“Did...did you just say you quit your job? The job that pays for this apartment as well as other things that aren’t free?!,” your dad asks.

“Yes but I have a new one though! I’m a writer for a local magazine here, and yea it’s a bit of a pay cut but I’m still gonna be fine and it’s something I really love.”

“I thought you loved what you did before?”

“It was nice, but it could never replace writing for me.”

“As long as you’re happy and know what you’re doing, then we support you a hundred percent. Right hunny?,” your mom smiles looking towards your father and nudging his arm.

“Right...if you’re happy, we’re happy.”

“Plus with the more flexible schedule, I’ll have more time to spend home with the baby.”

“BABY?!?!!,” your parents both shout while Colin chokes beside you.

“Baby?! When did that happen?!,” he asks looking at you with red tinted ears and heightened breathing visible through his shirt.

“Oh I’m sure you know when it happened!,” Simon glares in his direction quickly rising from his chair and making Colin hide behind you.

“GUYS! Guys relax I’m kidding! I’m not pregnant it was just a joke! I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“Too soon bun,” your dad replies clutching his chest as your mom and Colin both breathe a sigh of relief while you laugh.

Taglist: @crushed-pink-petals-writes @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @renfrewscorner @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23

If anybody wants to be added to the taglist, has asked to be added but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans #colin shea #colinxreader #colinxblackreader #colinxwoc #whats your number

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365days365movies · 4 years

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February 24, 2021: Annie Hall (1977) (Part 1)

Well...Woody Allen.

I, uh...OK, look, I could get into the whole Woody Allen thing, but INSTEAD of me doing that, I’ll just say this: look into it. Because there is a LOT on this subject, and it’s controversial as HELL. At the end of the day, I’ll recommend this upcoming series on HBO, and just recommend that you look into it.

Because, uh...yeah, it’s not great. That’s all I’m gonna say, because I need to educate myself on it more as well. Instead, let’s talk for a few seconds about divorcing the art from the artist. But ONLY for a few seconds.

I understand why some of you might be surprised I’m doing this one. Because, again...Woody Allen. But, yeah, I always try to do my best to divorce the art from the artist. Because some people suck, but they still make nice things, or at the very least, things that should be open to interpretation and appreciation.

“Superfreak” is a classic song of 1981, and everybody’s heard at least some of it, but Rick James fuckin’ kidnapped two women and kept them in his basement, WHERE HE TORTURED THEM. Edgar Degas made beautiful paintings of ballet dancers, and was also A MASSIVE ANTI-SEMITE. And before he was (RIGHTFULLY AND JUSTIFIABLY) outed as a roofie-ing piece-o-shit...I grew up with - and genuinely enjoyed - this guy’s comedy.

And you can judge me for this, but...I still think his stand-up was and is genuinely funny, and I still appreciate the cultural impact that The Cosby Show had on society’s perception of African-American families, divorced from the stereotype of the ghetto. Fact of the matter is, works themselves deserve to be separated from the artist who made them. That’s my philosophy, and I’m sticking with it Entirely fine to disagree with me, by the way, I get it.

But in that spirit, I’m watching Annie Hall, despite its creators likely transgressions. After all, this is technically his magnum opus, and it’s a good look into the man himself. And so, with that in mind: Annie Hall! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

youtube

Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) is talking directly to us about his outlook on life, and his view on the potential future. He tells half of a joke, then an amusing anecdote, and a bit more until telling us that he’s broke up with Annie, and he’s still thinking about it, trying to figure out exactly where things went wrong. He goes back to the beginning, which is punctuated with flashbacks.

He grew up in Brooklyn in World War II, and a young Alvy (Jonathan Munk) is with his mother (Joan Newman) at the doctor’s. He’s depressed after learning that the universe will one day end after a period of expansion, and is having his first real existential crisis. I had mine around the same age, actually, went I learned that the Earth will one day get swallowed by the sun. And THEN came the realization that I’d be dead by that point. AND THEN came the realization that I’d die one day, and that was a WHOLE NEW crisis to...anyway.

He grew up under the Coney Island rollercoaster according to him (although his analyst says that he exaggerates), and that’s what he blames for his “nervous personality. He’s also got an active imagination, often blurring fantasy and reality. His Dad ran the bumper cars on Coney Island (a place that I’ve never been, but desperately want to go).

He continues on talking about his former schoolmates, and not really that well. While in class, young Alvy kisses a...little girl...ahem. And then, when reprimanded by the teacher, current Alvy notes that he was always...like that...and he also says this to the little girl, and they talk about Freud’s latency period, and Alvy said he never...had...one...that’s uh...that’s fuckin’ SOMETHING, now isn’t it?

OK, well, shoving that forcefully aside as hard as I can, Alvy wonders aloud on where his classmates now, and one of them says this:

This also involves a little girl saying she’s “into leather,” which is...awkward as FUCK, but WE’RE GONNA MOVE THE FUCK ON. Alvy recounts his paranoia, and was so even after he became a famous comedian (which we say after a VERY good joke about qualifying for the army as a hostage). He speaks to a friend, Rob (Tony Roberts) about potential anti-Semitism from a person in a passersby meeting, then heads to meet Annie.

Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) arrives at a movie theater, late and in a bad mood. The two are late to their intended film, argue briefly, then head to another film that they’ve already seen, The Sorrow and the Pity. In line, they’re in front of a man loudly soliloquizing on film, much to Alvy’s annoyance.

Annie and Alvy continue to argue a bit, while Alvy openly berates the casual film critic. In the middle, he talks to the audience about it, only to be followed by the crtiic himself, who also acknowledges the audience! Huh! Anyway, he’s a professor at Columbia, and starts continuing his line speech, this time on the work of Marshall McLuhan, one of the most important early media theorists ever. And then, Alvy brings out Marshall McLuhan (Marshall McLuhan) to debate him on it, only for Alvy to turn to the audience and wish aloud that life could really be like this!

I’m beginning to understand why people like this film. It’s metacontextual before metacontextuality was really a thing in film. It’s a fourth-wall breaking movie in some fantastic ways. But will it still hold its muster after breaking the fourth wall’s become so commonplace? we’ll see, I guess.

After a showing of the film, the two return home, and Alvy tries to initiate sex. But Annie’s not really into it at the moment, and Alvy complains that they used to have sex all the time, and it’s been a while since. So, I guess that retroactively awkward scene at the school was meant to foreshadow Alvy’s high libido, that will probably cause some conflict in the film. Anyway, Annie notes that Alvy once went through something similar with Allison, his first wife. Who’s Allison? Flashback!

Allison Portchnik (Carol Kane) is a graduate student in political science, working for a campaign that Alvy’s about to perform for. He’s nervous, as he’s going on after another comedian. She comforts him by saying that she thought he was cute, and he does well. But we flash-forward to a night after they’re married, shortly after the death of JFK, which Alvy’s obsessing over, entertaining various conspiracy theories.

However, Allison rightly points out that his obsession is simply a way for him to avoid having sex with her, which mirrors the present-day situation him him and Annie. Flash forward TO Alvy and Annie, and there are just lobsters...everywhere, on the floor in their kitchen. After that commotion, they talk about Annie’s past romances.

And by talk about, I mean they LITERALLY WALK THROUGH her memories. And I gotta say...I fuckin’ love this method of storytelling. One of her previous boyfriends is an actor (John Glover), and his over-dramatic prose sickens Alvy. We see a second marriage of Alvy’s to New Yorker writer Robin (Janet Margolin), who’s dragged him to a stuffy high society party of intellectuals that he has no interest in going to. Same her, Alvy. I bet the caviar’s canned.

He tries to initiate sex with her - in the middle of the party, mind you - and she turns him down. later, when they get to it in their apartment, she’s unable to, uh...reach satisfaction. From there, we flash-forward after that marriage ends to a tennis match with Rob, where he meets one of his mutual friends: Annie Hall.

And for the record, Annie’s pretty obviously got a crush on him, and she’s adorable as fuck. Also, that outfit, real talk...that outfit rules. She offers to give Alvy a list, during which he’s quite worried about her driving, but the two still get along well enough. Annie’s an amateur photographer, during a time period where photography is considered a relatively new art form. The two go to her apartment, and share familial anecdotes and personal stories about themselves. And as they talk, we also see a set of subtitles on top of each of them that betray their inner feelings and thoughts.

I do genuinely like the stylings of the movie, goddamn. This conversation leads to Alvy asking her out on a date, although they end up scheduling it after Annie auditions at a nightclub as a singer. And while it doesn’t go great, Alvy tells her she was fantastic, and they share a kiss before they head to dinner. They head to her place afterwards, and we cut to later that night, post-coitus.

And then, we get a flash-forward back to the next day, where the two are at a bookstore, and Alvy speaks on his personal philosophy of life.

I'm obsessed with uh, with death, I think. Big - big subject with me, yeah. I have a very pessimistic view of life. You should know this about me if we're gonna go out. You know, I - I feel that life is - is divided up into the horrible and the miserable. Those are the two categories, you know. The - the horrible would be like, um, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. You know, and the miserable is everyone else. That's - that's - so - so - when you go through life - you should be thankful that you're miserable because you're very lucky to be miserable.

Iiiiinteresting.

Shortly into their relationship, they admit they’re in love (or “lurve”, as Alvy says). She moves in with Alvy, which he initially isn’t the biggest fan of, having been burned in two previous marriages And already, their relationship is showing a few bumps. Alvy’s also always trying to push her to take college classes, while she uses mariuana whenever they have sex, which Alvy doesn’t agree with.

But as they have sex one night, without the marijuana at Alvy’s urging, Annie’s mind wanders - LITERALLY.

This film...this film has a VERY unique style of visual storytelling, and I am HERE for it! Seriously, I genuinely love this method of storytelling and comedy, it’s extremely engaging to me.

Soon enough, Alvy gets an interview to write for a talk show host, which he ABSOLUTELY despises. But in doing so, he decides to go into stand-up for himself, and is actually quite successful at it! But before we get to that, we’re at the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

#annie hall #woody allen #diane keaton #tony roberts #carol kane #paul simon #shelley duvall #christopher walken #romance february #romance movie #romcom #romantic comedy #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year

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cooperlaura · 4 years

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Audrey/Cooper fic recs

Updated list. Please read the warnings/tags.

* = these authors have written more fic that you should check out if you like the ones recommended here.

Home is Where the Heart Is by thedevilchicken (teen & up) They go back to Twin Peaks every year, at Christmas.

Untying by Astolat (mature) Audrey wrote him brief notes all that next year. Today I went to the waterfall pool. It’s really too early to swim but I went in anyway. There was no one else around, and I couldn’t hear myself breathe or think, the water was so loud. I had to get out too soon because I was cold. Are you ever lonely?

In the Dark Night, Remember Me by ElegantPi (teen & up) Cooper is freed from the Black Lodge; Audrey has left Twin Peaks for a new life in Texas. But as Cooper’s lingering nightmares threaten his sanity, Audrey discovers that the connection between them is stronger than she realized.

This Will be My Last Confession by evewithanapple (mature) AU from the end of 2x08, where Cooper doesn’t get the call about Maddy and his conversation with Audrey goes … elsewhere.

A Heart That Yearns by duh_i_read (mature) Audrey gets what she wants.

King of Infinite Space by bgrrl (mature) Dreaming men are haunted men.- Stephen Vincent Benet.

In This Distance by echoinautumn (mature) Audrey Horne doesn’t believe in ghosts, except for the one that lives in Dale Cooper.

Pilgrim’s Progress by orange_crushed (teen & up) He lies awake in an empty bed and recites the facts. They’re not comforting. He was slow when he ought to have been quick. He was quick when he ought to have been slow. True knowledge consists in knowing, he thinks. That I know nothing.

Meet Me At the Great Northern by crookedneighbor (explicit) Dale comes back to the Great Northern, where he finds Audrey Horne.

Fries and Malts by sofia_estrella (teen & up) “Diane, I’ve just been in the most interesting situation.”

Nine Tenths by Astolat (explicit, dubcon) "I’m not sorry,“ Audrey said again, behind him, gently implacable, planting hooks. "I’m not.”“I have to try to be,” he said.

Promise Made by Ingridmatthews (explicit) Dale/Audrey for Porn Battle XV

Black by Katyfaise (explicit)

Love By Numbers by Lynzee005 * (explicit) Dale Cooper has been keeping a running tally of things that have happened between him and Audrey Horne since she first asked him to dance…

Welcome to Riverdale by laughingacademy (mature) Dale Cooper and Audrey Horne have sex and talk about comic books.

Under the Sycamore Tree by st_aurafina (teen & up) After the explosion, Audrey finds herself in an unfamiliar place.

When You Lay Your Burdens Down by Lynzee005 (teen & up) If now isn’t the time to admit she’s your soulmate, then when?

Flirting with Darkness by steelneena (mature) a prompt for Halloween

The holy or the broken by maybetwice (teen & up) Some things are worth trying to forget, and Dale Cooper and Audrey Horne have spent twelve years doing just that. Some things are worth remembering.

Tomorrow’s Lovers Will Be Found by rosedamask * (explicit) On stage at the Roadhouse, truth came tall enough to scrape the ceiling. Now, in her father’s bar at the end of the night, Audrey went up on her toes to kiss him.

The wood wakes, and you are here for proof by rosedamask (general) Down at the Savings and Loan, Audrey had wished for water, and for the woods, and for Agent Cooper. The water came first.

In the Fire I Call Your Name Out by Harpalium (teen & up) Audrey and Dale. Wakeful dreams.

As Above, So Below by AmethystB (teen & up) "Funerals, huh?“ Her voice, splintered, finds his attuned senses and he almost loses all sense. [Cooper/Audrey, missing scenes]

Pinned Down by delina (teen & up) Fanart for the Trick or Treat Exchange 2019

A heart that yearns by Babble (teen and up) Special Agent Cooper has returned to the town of Twin Peaks, to enjoy a much-needed respite from the stresses of his work at the Bureau. Half a year has passed since the tragic night of Miss Twin Peaks, but the ghosts of the past still haunt Agent Cooper, and he soon discovers that it may take more than a cozy house in the woods to pull him out of the darkness.

Bet on you by youarenotmybus * (general) Set during season two, episode eight, “Drive With a Dead Girl.” What Cooper is thinking during that scene with Audrey.

Summer at the End of Time by scioscribe (mature) This is their summer, and everything is so drenched in sunshine that it feels like the world has soaked the light up like a sponge. When Cooper slides a blade of grass between his thumbs to whistle on it for her, it bleeds green against his skin, the color running like wet paint. It’s playing her song, the bassline all laced up in saddle shoes.

The Midpoint by Thorerre * (teen and up) When things got better, they decided to go away.

Ghostwood by Selden (general) Her name is Audrey, and she lives inside the Roadhouse.

Beating the House by EleosEpistrophia (mature) What if Cooper had come across Audrey the first time he went to One-Eyed Jack's?

#fic recs #a heart that yearns

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cinema-tv-etc · 4 years

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Why The Godfather Part III has been unfairly demonized

By Caryn James1st December 2020

he mafia trilogy ended with a closing chapter that has long been vilified. But as a new recut is released, 30 years on, Caryn James says it deserves to be re-evaluated. T

The final part of the Godfather trilogy is considered such an artistic disaster that you'd think Francis Ford Coppola had forgotten how to make a film in the 16 years that followed The Godfather Part II (1974). Part III's most famous dialogue – Al Pacino as the aging Mafia don Michael Corleone snarls, "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in" – has become an easy laugh line.

But 30 years after its release, it is time to rescue Godfather III from its terrible reputation. Pacino's eloquent, fiery, knowing central performance is supported by several bravura set pieces that are mini-masterpieces in themselves. With deliberate echoes of the earlier Godfather films, there is singing and dancing at a family party, a bold murder during the San Gennaro street festival, a tragedy on the steps of an opera house in Sicily.

In the film’s confusing main plot, Michael gets tangled up in dealing with the Vatican

Hindsight alone would tell us how seriously the film has been undervalued, even without Coppola's newly restored, re-edited and renamed version. It now has the title Mario Puzo's The Godfather, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone. Calling it a coda emphasises its connection to the earlier instalments, and even hints at its lesser stature. And the word 'death' signals its dark inevitability, although the meaning of that word is slipperier than it first appears.

Twelve minutes shorter, it rearranges some key episodes, eliminates a few minor scenes and trims a line here or there. But until its altered ending, it is fundamentally the same film, better in parts than as a whole. It is too flawed to come close to the accomplishments of The Godfather (1972) or its sequel, both among the most towering and influential films of the 20th Century. They have penetrated the culture, from their language ("I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse") to their quintessentially American story of immigration and upward mobility. But the new version clarifies Coppola's epic vision, revealing how much the Corleone story was always Michael's, a deeply moral saga of guilt and redemption. He just happened to be a mob boss.

For me the tragedy of The Godfather, which is the tragedy of America, is about Michael Corleone – Francis Ford Coppola

Coppola was always lucid about the trilogy's vision, even when others were confused. "For me the tragedy of The Godfather, which is the tragedy of America, is about Michael Corleone," he says in the extras on a DVD set of the three films released in 2001. He wanted The Death of Michael Corleone to be the title back in 1990, but Paramount, the studio releasing it, did not. The film's initial reception was measured disappointment, not dismissal or horror as we now assume. Roger Ebert actually loved it. Pauline Kael did not love or hate it, but offered the withering, condescending assessment. "I don't think it's going to be a public humiliation." Expectations were high because of the legacy of the earlier films, yet low because Part III came with a whiff of desperation and of selling out. Coppola had resisted making another Godfather for years, then wrote the screenplay (with Mario Puzo) and edited it in a rush to meet its Christmas Day release. It even got seven Oscar nominations, including best picture and director. It is an odd example of a movie whose reputation has declined over the decades.

Why the film is misunderstood

Then and now, the series has largely been misunderstood. Crime movies like Coppola's and Martin Scorsese's are so seductive that audiences have embraced them for apparently glamorising the love of raw power and the concept of honour among thieves. Beneath the Mafia-friendly surface, though, they are built on ethical themes their more hot-headed characters don't grasp. The Godfather Coda tells us that crime really doesn't pay when you're ready to search your soul. The young Michael struggles with the idea of killing and crime in the first Godfather. The consequences of his decision are central to Part III, which takes place in 1979, 20 years after the events of Godfather II. Michael, a billionaire living in New York, has made his businesses legitimate and is left to grapple with his guilt for so many crimes, especially ordering the murder of his brother Fredo, who betrayed him.

The film still has problems that no amount of editing can change. In a needlessly confusing main plot, Michael tries to take over a European conglomerate called International Immobiliare. By buying the Vatican's shares, he'll be bailing out the corrupt Vatican bank. The family part of the story revolves around Michael's nephew, Vincent Mancini, the illegitimate son of his brother Sonny. Andy Garcia is as good a Vincent as you could hope for, handsome, swaggering, rough around the edges, dynamic on screen. But his character never makes much sense. Vincent has his father's explosive temper and appetite for violence, but somehow goes from a not-so-bright thug to a shrewd, controlled crime strategist in a matter of months. His change is far from the engrossing, methodical character trajectory that takes the young Michael from idealist to murderer in the first Godfather.

And the film's most severely criticised element is no better than anyone remembers. Winona Ryder, who had been set to play Michael's daughter, Mary, dropped out weeks before filming started and was replaced with unabashed nepotism by Coppola's teenaged daughter, Sofia. Today, we know Sofia Coppola as a brilliant director, but it's easy to see why her amateurish performance made her another target of Godfather III jokes, particularly for the unintentionally awkward and passionless romance between Mary and her cousin Vincent. Coppola actually snipped a couple of Sofia's lines in the new version.

He makes a major change at the start of the re-edited film, eliminating the lovely original beginning. It set an elegiac tone by showing images of the abandoned family house in Lake Tahoe from Part II, and includes a flashback to Fredo's death, while Nino Rota's familiar soundtrack music evokes the past. The new version begins with a duplicitous archbishop soliciting Michael's help for the Vatican, a scene originally placed later in the film. The change highlights the finance plot without making it any clearer.

The exhilarating start

But the film soon picks up with its true, exhilarating beginning. Several generations of Corleones, along with friends and business associates, gather at a party celebrating Michael. His sister, Connie, sings an Italian song, while shady-looking visitors pay homage to Michael in his office. He now has bristly grey hair and a lined face, and controls his family and business with authoritarian power. The extravagant 30-minute sequence echoes Connie's wedding at the start of The Godfather, and the First Communion party in Lake Tahoe that began Godfather II. Michael's office even has the same light slanting through the blinds that we saw in his father's office in the first Godfather, when Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone received visitors. Throughout, these call backs to the previous films add resonance while trenchantly revealing how things have changed. Michael is burdened by conscience in a way Vito never was. "I don't apologise," Vito tells Michael near the end of The Godfather, justifying his brutality because he was trying to save his family. Godfather III is all about Michael's need to atone.

Al Pacino's performance may have become an object of derision, but he knows what he's doing.

The party scene flows easily as it brings every character up to date. Diane Keaton is as deft as ever as Michael's ex-wife Kay, who pleads with him to allow their son, Tony, to pursue a career as an opera singer. Kay can be chilling. "Tony knows that you killed Fredo," she warns Michael. Yet she has never got over him, as we see in a later scene when they have a tearful tête-à-tête in Sicily, a scene Pacino and Keaton make painfully real.

Connie, played with glorious sharpness and wit by Talia Shire, has morphed into Lady Macbeth. Mafia princesses can never run things, but they can pull the strings. It's Connie who ruthlessly tells Vincent, "You're the only one in this family with my father's strength. If anything happens to Michael I want you to strike back." She has asked the right person.

Vincent is central to many of the set pieces. During a meeting of Mafia heads in Atlantic City, when Michael announces he is out of the crime business, a helicopter approaches the window and shoots most of them dead. Vincent rushes Michael, the main target, to safety. The intrigue and rapid-fire violence in the perfectly orchestrated scene might obscure the real point: Michael can't escape his past. That attack causes his cry: "Just when I thought I was out..." Pacino's performance may have become an object of derision, but he knows what he's doing. He is raw and angrily over-the-top in some scenes, but modulates those outbursts with quieter moments. When a stress-induced diabetic attack sends him to the hospital, in his delusional state he calls out Fredo's name. Pacino shows us a conflicted Michael, weakened yet clinging to power.

The power of the re-edited finale

The tone becomes more ominous and the themes more spiritual when the entire family goes to Sicily for Tony's opera debut. (There are spoilers here, but the time limit on spoilers has expired after 30 years.) Michael grapples with the Sicilian Mafia, for reasons linked to the Immobiliare deal, but that is less important than his inner crisis. He makes a confession to a cardinal, breaking down in tears as he says, "I'm beyond redemption." When his protector, Don Tommasino, becomes another victim of Michael's power struggle, he sits by the coffin and says to God, "I swear on the lives of my children, give me a chance to redeem myself and I will sin no more." In this version, Coppola eliminates lines in which Michael asks why he is feared and not loved, removing that plea for the audience's sympathy. Michael gives Vincent control of the family, but does he really have a clear conscience when he knows too well the vengeance Vincent will plan?

The Trump era has been full of Godfather references; Trump himself regularly attacks CNN's Chris Cuomo by calling him Fredo.

That revenge plays out in the elaborate, gripping final sequence at the opera, a counterpart to one of the most famous episodes from The Godfather, when a baptism is intercut with a series of murders. That first sequence was about Michael's rise to power; now he suffers the consequences. While the family watches Tony on stage, Coppola weaves in scenes of Vincent's crew settling scores. One shoots an enemy who plummets off a beautiful spiral staircase. Another murders a rival by stabbing the man's own eyeglasses into his neck. At the opera, hitmen are after Michael, which leads to the shooting on the steps, and a bullet meant for him that kills Mary. For him there is no coming back from that, no possible way to forgive himself.

As the film ends, Coppola makes a brilliant editing choice. The original ending flashed ahead years to the elderly Michael, sitting alone in a gravelly yard as the camera closes in on a face still full of desolation and sadness. He falls to the ground, obviously dead. With a tiny cut, Coppola transforms the meaning of the scene. It now ends with the close-up of Michael's face, still alive. Living with his guilt is his true death, a death of the soul and of hope. Coppola adds text at the end, which says: “When the Sicilians wish you ‘Cent'anni’... it means ‘for long life’... and a Sicilian never forgets.” Michael is doomed to a long life of remembering.

Godfather, Coda restores Coppola's original darker vision, but one element creates a jolt even he couldn't have seen coming. The locations listed in the end credits include Trump Castle Casino Resort in Atlantic City, where the exterior of the helicopter attack was shot. The Trump era has been full of Godfather references. Some are from mainsteam media, including a 2018 Atlantic Magazine article with the headline Donald Trump Goes Full Fredo, comparing a Trump tweet saying that he is “like, really smart” to Fredo famously insisting in Godfather II, “I'm smart! Not like everybody says, like dumb, I'm smart!” Similarly, Twitter trolls routinely mock the president's circle and his grown children as Fredos, portraying them as weak and bumbling like the character, including pasting Donald Trump Jr’s head on a photo of Fredo's body. Donald Trump himself regularly attacks CNN's Chris Cuomo by calling him Fredo. Godfather II even turned up in court documents charging Trump's advisor Roger Stone with obstructing justice, citing an email in which Stone asked someone to protect him the way Frankie Pentangeli covered up for the Corleones. Today the location credit lands like a coda to the end of the Trump presidency, and offers a reminder of how influential the Godfather films have been, even when they were embraced for all the wrong reasons.

Mario Puzo's The Godfather, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone is available on BluRay and streaming from 8 December.

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https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20201201-why-the-godfather-part-iii-has-been-unfairly-demonised

https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20201201-david-fincher-hollywoods-most-disturbing-director

#Godfather Part III

7 notes · View notes

euthymiaei · 4 years

Text

Fornell- Maybe Next Time

! Gif not mine !

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: None really?

Requested by: @psychicexpertlover :)

Prompt: *Hiiii! May I request some Agent Fornell x ncis probie reader? Post Diane's death? Tobias is such an underrated cutie :3 Could feature dad-like Gibbs but doesn't have to. Love your writing!*

This is my first Fornell fic...you have no idea how nervous I was while writing this!

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“Gibbs, you’re not going to like this.” You stated as you walked out of the elevator.

“What is it Y/N?” Gibbs asked you while taking a slow sip from his coffee.

You hesitated. You weren’t really sure what kind of mood Gibbs was in so you didn’t know how to tell him.

“Uh, I just met with Vance in the elevator…” You started and clearly captivated his attention.

“Go on.”

“The case that we’re working on, the one with the marine who may or may not have leaked information about our agency…” You took a deep breath and waited for his reaction.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Vance said that he wanted the FBI on this too and then he told me to tell you that it’s final whether you like it or not.”

Gibbs stood up suddenly and peered into your eyes.

“Hell no.”

“Sorry Gibbs, I couldn’t do anything about it.” You frowned slightly as he walked briskly towards Vance’s office.

“But I can.” He seemed to be more aggravated than usual.

You had heard from Tony that Gibbs wasn’t overly fond of working with other agencies but from what Tony had told you, he wasn’t one to make a huge deal about it.

“Tony! Tony!” You called him as he walked in.

“Hey! How’s my favourite Probie?” He asked as he ruffled your hair and you rolled your eyes.

“I told Gibbs that we have to work with the FBI on this case and he stormed off to Vance’s office. Why?” You asked him and he frowned.

“I honestly don’t know. Could be because he secretly blames Fornell for Diane’s death, even though he really can’t be blamed.” Tony shrugged and sat down at his desk.

“Right. Diane.” You nodded and sat down too.

“Great. Just great. We’re working with the FBI.” Gibbs announced as he stormed out of Vance’s office.

“Good morning everyone!” You looked up and saw a man walk in. You had never met this man but it was clear to you that everyone else knew him.

“Fornell, meet Y/F/N, Y/L/N.” Gibbs mumbled and you stood up.

“Pleasure to meet you!” You shook his hand and he smiled at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He said as he looked over at Gibbs who was not acknowledging either of you.

“Oh have you?” You raised your eyebrows and Gibbs coughed.

“We’ve got a case to work on.” Gibbs said as he grabbed his coat.

You looked at Fornell and laughed. It would appear as though neither of you had seen Gibbs like this.

“Y/N, let’s go!” Gibbs shouted from the elevator.

You jumped and grabbed your coat. You looked at Fornell to see if he would be coming with you. He nodded and followed you back to the elevator.

“Where we headed to Gibbs?” You asked him as you got into the elevator.

“Crime scene.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You rolled your eyes at his response.

“So Y/N, tell me about yourself.” Fornell asked you suddenly and you hesitated.

“Well, what do you already know about me?” You grinned at him and he laughed.

“Not that much, to be honest.”

“Alright, that leaves me plenty to work with. I was originally a detective in New York but I was moved to D.C. because they needed me for a case and I ended up staying here longer than what I had originally planned for. Then one day, I had to work with NCIS, and Gibbs offered me a job and that's how I ended up here." You looked over at Gibbs but he was staring at the ceiling.

“Wow, that’s one hell of a story.” Fornell smiled at you and then looked at Gibbs.

“What?” Gibbs had finally snapped and he looked over at the two of you.

“You’re in a bad mood. Why?” Fornell asked and you held your breath.

Gibbs wasn't one to take a question like that easily. You knew that it would be a bad idea to ask him but Fornell just went for it. You decided the man had a death wish.

“We have a case that is clearly very difficult but you’re here chatting up my agent.” Gibbs glared at you as he said that.

“Didn’t realize you were so attached to her. You guys got something going on?” Fornell smirked and you blushed.

“No! Absolutely not! Now if you’ll excuse me.” You walked out of the elevator as soon as it reached the desired floor.

“You like her.” Gibbs said simply as he followed you out.

“Maybe I do.” Fornell replied and shook his head in disbelief at what he had just said.

“Good luck with that.” Gibbs said back to him.

Fornell frowned. He had no idea what that was even supposed to mean. He pushed it to the back of his mind and followed Gibbs to your car.

“I’m driving!” You shouted as you got to the car.

“Shotgun!” Fornell shouted back, leaving Gibbs to sit in the back.

“How is this even happening?” Gibbs mumbled to himself.

You started driving off to the given location. It was better for you to drive because Gibbs would probably kill everyone and you didn’t know how Fornell’s driving was.

“You wanna slow down?” Gibbs asked suddenly.

“She’s driving ten over, calm down.” Fornell responded on your behalf.

“That’s still technically illegal.”

“Yeah, but no one gives a damn.”

"Well, I do."

“That’s why you aren’t driving.”

“Yeah, because you’re a better driver than me.”

“Will you both shut up? I can’t focus!” You finally decided to end this argument.

Both men went silent immediately. You smiled slightly and turned the radio on. Backstreet Boys was playing on one of the stations. You turned up the volume and continued driving.

“Backstreet? Really?” Fornell asked with a light laugh.

“What the hell is this?” You heard Gibbs mumble in the back and you stifled a laugh.

“90’s heartthrob.” You replied.

“Stop the car.” Gibbs said suddenly.

“Jeez Gibbs, we can change the song ya know.” You said as you pulled over and put the car in park.

“We’ve gotta head back to the office.”

“Why?”

“Abby’s got something more important.”

“Fine.”

You put your signal on and made a u-turn. As you were driving back, you noticed that Fornell looked uncomfortable.

“Are you ok?” You decided to finally ask him as it was kind of bothering you.

“Yeah! Why?” He looked over at you.

You shrugged and continued driving. If he said he was fine, there was no reason for you to pry. Unless he was only saying that so that you wouldn’t worry.

“Because you look uncomfortable and it’s making everyone else uncomfortable.” Gibbs spoke up suddenly, causing you to snap out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine. Just a bit...never mind.” He shook his head and looked out the window.

Gibbs frowned slightly but brushed it off. You, however, could not brush something like this off. It was bothering you but you didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable.

Once you got back to the office, the three of you made your way to Abby’s lab. You were nervous as hell. It had to have been something insanely important for Gibbs to leave the crime scene unattended.

“Gibbs! Good, you’re here. So I was re-assessing the DNA because it just didn’t look right to me and I found something interesting. The person who the DNA matched with the first time is not the same person who matched with the DNA the second time I ran it. Or the third time. And for fun, I tried it again for a fourth time and that person didn’t match the first three.” Abby said the moment you walked in.

“Glitch in the system?” Fornell suggested.

“I thought that at first but the system wouldn’t glitch that many times.” Abby replied.

“So what’s wrong?” Gibbs asked finally.

“That’s the interesting part. I think someone is hacking our system and changing the output.”

You looked at the computer. Someone might have been hacking it. But if they were, wouldn't that mean that all of the data on the computer was at risk?

“Wipe the computer.” You said suddenly.

Gibbs turned around and looked at you. You had a look in your eyes that he had never seen before. He nodded at Abby and she began wiping the computer, complete factory reset.

“Wanna share?” Gibbs asked you as the three of you left Abby to her reset job.

“If someone was able to hack into the system and change the output, all of the files on that computer are in danger of being exposed.” You said simply as you sat down at your desk.

“Smart. You’ve got some serious skills.” Fornell said as he pulled up a chair beside yours.

“Why thank you.” You smiled at him.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you? In private?” He asked you suddenly. You nodded and led him to an abandoned hallway.

“I wanted to tell you something earlier-“

He was cut off by your phone ringing.

“Sorry, I have to take this, shouldn’t be long.” You said and he nodded.

He backed up to give you some privacy but he could still hear some parts of the conversation. More specifically, the words: love, tonight, sounds great, see you soon.

“Sorry about that. What did you want to tell me?” You asked him as you hung up.

“Uh...you’re a really good agent. Just wanted to let you know that if NCIS doesn’t work out for you, you’re welcome at the FBI.” He said with a sad smile.

“Oh! Ok, thank you!” You were really hoping he would say something else but he didn’t.

You walked back to your desk, a little bit sad, and started looking for anything that could get your mind off of this.

“What did he tell you?” Gibbs asked as he walked over to you.

“Just that I’m welcome at the FBI if things don’t work out here.” You smiled sadly up at him.

“But you wanted him to say something else?”

“Yeah. Maybe next time he will.” You looked up at the ceiling and smiled.

“I know the look he was giving you. He’ll be back. Just give him some time.” Gibbs patted your head softly and went back to his desk.

Everything would work out in its own time. You just knew it would.

#ncis #ncis fanfiction #ncis fandom #ncis x reader #ncis fornell #ncis one shot

66 notes · View notes

introvertllux · 4 years

Text

Peace in Normalcy: Chapter Four

(The chapter is told from Prue’s point of view. Anytime, that you see italicized words, that means Prue is speaking via her internal monologue).

Genre: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Comedy-Drama

Warnings: 18+, depictions of mental health, mental disorders, depression, talks of suicide, and sexual abuse. (Please do not read, if you may be triggered).

*Any depictions of mental health are based on MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. Please do not think I’m making fun or or mocking anyone, again these experiences are based on what I have seen and, or been through myself. Also, I am not intending to romanticize mental health or disorders in anyway. Lastly, If you do decided to read this story I am very thankful and I hope you enjoy it. : )

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Prue’s P.O.V

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

After getting the courage to talk to both of my parents (mainly, my mother) about reviving my hobby of art I can say I feel somewhat relieved? Content? Maybe happiness? I have to say I don’t really remember a lot of things that used to make me happy before I went to the hospital. I feel as though I was working at a job I liked, that I could see myself doing but what else was there too it. I feel like the beginning of my adult life was this constant battle of passion vs security. Did I want to take the chance and journey to reach my dreams or did I just want something I know I could fall back on? Who knows, maybe if I would have taken the risk, I could’ve been a modern-day Vincent Van Gogh or Frida Kahlo.

Choosing between my passion and something I knew would make my parents proud always made me feel like I never had a life of my own. Especially with my mother being the strict traditionalist, she was everything had to be exactly her way and I wanted nothing more than to rebel as a child because she was a rationalist and I was always an idealist. She based everything on logic and me on emotions.

I love my mother and would do anything for my family, (including giving my dreams) but yet we still could never see eye to eye. I don’t want to be naïve and think we will always be on the same page but I want us to be able to live peacefully knowing that we are both different but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less. I’m really hoping this trip to the mall today goes well, maybe it will be an opportunity for us to relearn one another.

“Prue! Are you almost ready?” I heard from outside my bedroom door. I scurried from inside of my closet and pushed everything back inside my closet.

“Yes, mom! Give me one second.” I yelled back.

“You have two minutes to meet me downstairs or I’m leaving without you.” She said in a sing-song voice.

I grunted as I struggled to push all the pieces of a broken easel and other art supplies back in the closet. I closed the door as I marked down in the notes of my iPhone a list of art supplies that I needed. I then grabbed my phone and the new air pod dad brought for me and proceeded downstairs.

I made my way past the living room. I paused as I saw my dad watching television on his recliner.

“Hey, dad. Mom and I are going to the mall. I’ll see you later.” I said giving him a small wave.

“Hey, Pru-Pru! Come here for a second.” He said.

I walked over quickly, keeping in mind what my mother had said regarding time.

“Um. Mom is waiting for me.” I said quietly but quickly.

“I know. I know. I just wanted to tell you to have fun…I know that shopping isn’t your thing. But your mother thought it could be a way you too could bond. Be… patient with her. She’s trying. I love you both. Be safe. Call or text me if you need me.” He said.

I looked at him softly and gave him a slight nod in response. I turned around and left as fast I could and grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and left. I looked around slightly and saw my mother was waiting in her car.

(Picture of Gwendolyn Walker)

(Picture of Gwendolyn’s car)

I speed-walked up to her car and opened the passenger’s side. I sat in quickly and buckled up. My mom drove away quickly and smoothly out of the driveway. We sat in silence, which I wasn’t uncomfortable with. One thing I can say that my mother and I have in common is our love for quietness. We are both introverts. We found peace in silence and we enjoyed the time to ourselves.

A few minutes past until I heard my name being called. “Jayne. When we arrive at the mall, I have a surprise for you. I think you are really going to enjoy it.” She said.

“Alright. Thank you, mom, I really appreciated you thinking about me.” I said with a small smile.

I looked out of the corner of my eye to see her smiling.

We sat in silence again. I then decided to pull out my headphones. I loved headphones they were one of my sources of solitude (besides art) before I went away. Ever since I got my headphones, I started to make a playlist on Spotify. I had over 2,200 songs and I had just received them yesterday. I unlocked my phone and clicked on the Spotify app. I clicked the shuffle button and my playlist began to play: All Good Things (Come To An End) by Nelly Furtado.

(Spotify Picture)

I started to move my head back and forth as I patted my left hand on my left thigh. I started to silently mouth the words.

Well, the dogs were whistling a new tune Barking at the new moon Hoping it would come soon so that they could Dogs were whistling a new tune Barking at the new moon Hoping it would come soon so that they could Die, die, die, die

Flames to dust, lovers to friends Why do all good things come to an end? Flames to dust, lovers to friends

Why do all good things come to an end? Come to an end, come to an Why do all good things come to an end? Come to an end, come to an Why do all good things come to an end?

I started to tear up slightly at the meaning of the lyrics. This song really symbolized what I was going through currently. Life was by no means perfect before I went to the hospital, but it was decent. But it all came to an end.I felt the car come to a park as I felt a hand on my left leg. I looked up at my mom.

“Are you alright?” She asked.“Yes-I’m alright. I just listen to a song it reminded me of something.” I said. I looked outside of the passenger side window and noticed we were at Moltthought Mall. I hadn’t been here since I was a child. My parents used to bring Mallory and me here all the time. I guess my mom picked this mall because it had all her favorite stores.

(Picture of Moltthought Mall)

“Remember this place?” She asked with excitement in her voice.

“Y-yeah I do. You and dad used to bring Mallory and me all the time.” I said.

“We sure did. This minus has well been our second home, with all the time we spent here.” She snorted slightly.

“I figured we come to this mall for all time's sake. Plus, you know they have all my favorite stores and they added a Michaels and Blick Arts store right before you left…” She said trailing off.

I got excited at the fact that they added a Michaels and Blick store. I can finally replace all of my art supplies. However, my excitement did not last long as I realized that I had to go into the mall. The mall that was located in the town I was raised in. The same mall I could have the chances of bumping into someone I know. I started to panic as I realized this.

My heart started to race as I hunched over the seat as my seatbelt tightened over my chest and waist. I took a shaky hand and clicked on the seatbelt button and rapidly pulled on the door handle and pushed the car door open. I ran out and hunched over putting my hands on my knees and breathing in and out heavily and unevenly.

“Prue! Prue. Breathe, breathe.” I heard my mother said.

“It’s alright. It’s okay. Try and take a deep breath in and out. In and out.” She continued. I slowly did as she said trying to get a grasp on my breathing. I look a big deep breath in and exhaled steadily.

“That’s it. In and out.” She repeated as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder lightly.

A few moments later, I swallowed the built-up saliva in my mouth and stood up straight, my back still facing toward my mother.

“Prue.” She called out to me. I closed my eyes briefly before facing her. “I-I’m sorry- “I began to say before I was interrupted by a hug by my mother, which were very rare. My eyes widened and she embraced me tightly. After a few moments, she pulled away and grabbed both of my hands in hers, and looked into my eyes.

“I’m sorry. Was it something I said? Something I did?” She inquired. “No,” I said as I shook my head. “It’s- It’s just I started to panic…” I said trailing off. She squeezed my hands lightly, signaling me to continue speaking.

I look a small breath and continued, “I- I’m afraid that we will see people we know. I’m- I’m afraid that they’ll shame me or criticize me or you.” I said looking down.

“Prue. I can’t promise you that we won’t bump or pass by anyone we know. But I can promise you if we do happen to cross paths with someone we know, and they get out of line to know that I won’t hesitate to put them in their place.” She said with a hint of sassiness.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Now… let’s head inside I have to show you your surprise.” She said as she pulled me along.

As we entered the mall, I noticed that everything was relatively the same. It was big, spotless, and had the same stores it had even when I was a child.

(Picture of the inside of the mall)

I walked beside my mother and followed her up the escalator as she led us on the path to the surprise.

(Picture of Prue inside the Mall)

We walked for a few minutes until we stopped in front of a salon.

(Picture of the salon)

“Surprise!” My mother yelled.

I looked at her and then at the salon as she walked in.

“Gwen is that you!” I heard a loud voice yell.

“Diane!” She yelled as she quickly proceeds to walk over to her.

I followed behind awkwardly as I looked around the salon, that was unfamiliar to me.

“Is that Prue?” The voice questioned.

I looked up at the voice. It was? No, it couldn’t be Mrs. Price? She used to do my mother’s, mine, and Mallory’s hair. She stopped doing Mallory’s after she went off to college and mine after I decided to maintain my natural hair in high school (much to my mother’s liking).

(Picture of Mrs. Price)

Mrs. Prices’ face fell soft as she looked over me and said, “How are you? Are you alright?” She asked her voice full of concern.

“Yeah-yeah. I’m fine.” I said.

“Diane got the salon a few months back. I called her as asked her if she can give you a little TLC.” My mother said changing the subject.

“Your mother was so happy that I agreed to this little surprise. Lord knows you need it.” Mrs. Price said. As soon as she finished speaking, everyone got silent. My mother looked at me.

“Err- um. I didn’t. Shit.” Mrs. Price said. I shook my head and said, “No, It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Trust me. I know I can use this. I haven’t really been so great at the whole self-care thing recently. I’ve been trying to ease back into it.” I said.

She looked at me and nodded quickly. “Alight. Well, have a seat, in my chair sweetie.” She said. I sat quickly. Thankful the salon was empty, so no one had to witness that interaction. “Good, thing your mom loves to do things early, no we will all have plenty of time to catch up.” She said sweetly.

“Now, I know this was a surprise. But… now that you’re here do you have a style you would like to try?” She asked as she put her hands on either said of the salon chair.

My lips twisted up as I thought for a second. “Hmm, what about a purple undercut with a start shaved on the left side of my head,” I said as I started to point as my head where I wanted the star.

I heard the sound of a disapprovement from my mother as I looked into the mirror.

“Okay,” I said as I giggled.

“I just want my regular style just rejuvenated. My curls seem to be life-less these days.” I said to Mrs. Price. “Okay, I will work my magic.” She said.

A couple of hours passed, and my style was completed. My curls looked amazing. They popped. They looked shiny and full of life. I leaned forward in the salon chair and analyzed my appearance. I loved it. I looked so much better.

(Picture of Prue after her hairstyle)

“Thank you, Mrs. Price. I love it!” I said. “It’s no problem dear. Also, I know you had a thing for make-up we have a make-up section in the back of the salon free of charge if you want to-" she said.

I nodded my head quickly like a kid in a candy store. I loved make-up, as an artist, it was really fun to experiment with looks. However, I hadn’t really been interested in make-up since I’ve been home. I guess… It wasn’t a priority for me. But after even just meeting with Dr. Salomon just once I realized that I have to try for my goals, I can’t just expect everything to go back to normal or even change if I don’t do anything.

Mrs. Price led me to the back of the salon. “Here we are. There’s a mini bag on the side of the station. You can take as much as you want, again it’s on the house.” She said with a sweet smile.

“Mrs. Price you don’t have too. I- It’s too much.” I said feeling a little overwhelmed.

(Picture of the make-up section)

“No. I want too! It’s no problem. Come to the front when you’re done.” She said as she left. I looked through all of the make-up. It was like a Macy’s or a M.A.C. This make-up station had so many brands, colors, and collections. It was a make-up paradise. I grabbed a mini bag and began to walk through the different stations. I grabbed all types of eyeshadows, lipsticks, lip-gloss, glitters. I also grabbed some primer, blush, concealer, foundation (that matched my skin tone), eyeliner, false eyelashes, and makeup brushes. I mainly picked out some colors that would help me maintain a natural look which was my favorite look. Although, I did pick up some colors that were fun and glamourous just in case I wanted to try a different look at some point in time.

I stopped by one of the vanities and sat down and did my make-up. After, about 30 minutes, I completed my look. I looked up into the mirror of the vanity and smiled. For the first time in a long time, my smile felt real. It genuinely felt real. Looking as put together as I did, made me feel content. I-I feel good.

(Picture of Prue)

I gathered all my make-up back into the bag and made sure the area I was in was as clean as I left it. I made my way back to where my mother and Mrs. Price was. When I arrived, they were in the middle of a conversation. I never interrupted conversations, so I just stood there awkwardly once again until I saw my mother look up into the mirror.

“Prue.” She said quietly as Mrs. Price looked up and smiled at me.

“You look so beautiful. You always do.” My mother said. “Thank you,” I responded as I got embarrassed by her compliment. “Thank you, again for the make-up Mrs. Price,” I said appreciatively.

“It’s no problem. Please stop by when you have time. I would love to see you again.” She said.

“Thank you, for helping me surprise her Diane.” My mother said. “Anytime. I’ll see you next month for your annual appointment.” She said to my mother.

“I’ll be here.” My mother said. We both waved good-bye and excited out of the salon.

“Where to next?” She asked me. I was slightly put off guard. Normally my mother took charge of where we would all go next when we all used to go to the mall.

“Um, we can go to Michaels and Blick's, If that’s okay,” I said. Seeing my mother so inclined to agree with what I wanted for once was… strange. It’s off-putting not knowing if this was her way to keep the peace between us because she wanted to improve our relationship or was it solely because she thought I would blackout? Knowing that my mother wasn’t being herself concerned me because I didn’t want her to feel she had to change herself just because of me. I never want my family to feel scared or ashamed of me just because I’m not myself anymore. I’m the one that needs to change not them.

I decided that I would make the trips to Michaels and Blick quick. As much as I didn’t want too. But I had to be fair to my mother after all she set aside her pride and hatred towards art and drove me here. And she’s also going to pay for the supplies I want as well. She doesn’t even want to be at these stores with me and I know she would much rather shop in her favorite stores.

We went to Michaels first. I brought a few canvases, paint, and brushed from there. Then we went to Blick and I brought some paint markers, sketching pencils, coloring pencils, and a large sketchbook. I didn’t get an easel because my mother wanted to save room for us to carry the clothes, she said we would buy it shortly. But she reassured me, that we could order one and have it shipped to the house.

We walked for a few minutes until we arrived at one of my sister’s favorite boutiques. I knew this would be a long experience. I hated shopping. It never interested me. I’m not at all interested in material things but I couldn’t pull an Adam and Eve and walk around in just leaves.

As we walked into the boutique, my mother said, “Grab whatever you like. I’ll be waiting over at the fitting rooms.” She said. Okay, now I was really concerned. My mother was never the type to just let go of control over anything. If this was a year ago, she would be immediately picking out outfits she saw fit for young women and hand them to me. Now, she’s letting me take charge for once.

I looked down the clothing racks as I thought about my style for a moment. What was my style? I never really casually dressed unless it was to go for a walk or to the library. When I worked I usually dressed very modestly and professionally. I continued to walk down the aisle.

I picked some crop tops out, some jeans, a few skirts, sweats, jackets, and a couple dresses. I grabbed all the clothes I could and placed them over my left arm and I continued to carry the art supplies in my other hand. I walked over to my mom.

“Are you ready to try the clothes on.” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m all set,” I said.

“Well, let me see each outfit when you’re done,” she responded back. I walked into the dressing room and hung up each clothing in the hooks provided. As I placed each article of clothing in a hook, I began to second guess myself.

Have I lost my mind? Crop tops? Min-skirts? How in the hell would I pull this off? I can’t. And mom. She’s going to lose her shit if I walk out in these outfits.

“Prue? Are you alright? Do you need me to come in?” She asked as I heard shuffling outside of the door.

“No! I mean no. I’m okay.” I said. There was a momentary silence as the shuffling came to a pause. “I know you hate shopping and you’re probably nervous. But I have an idea. What if you do a little fashion show, like when you were a little girl remember. It will be fun, and it will make you less nervous.” She suggested.

I gave it some thought. It wasn’t a bad idea. I was just concerned with my confidence level. My confidence was never too high but after all, that’s happy it’s like my confidence doesn’t exist anymore. But I had to start somewhere? Right?

I decided to try on the outfits I picked out and try to enjoy this time with my mother. It may not be my favorite thing to do but I know that it would bring some joy to her.

(Click on the video below to see Prue’s Fashion Look Book! I made the video myself let me know what you think!) : )

youtube

Despite not liking shopping I had a good time with my mother. It was exhausting, to say the least. I know she did not like anything I picked out, but she complimented me and purchased everything I tried on so, that was a positive indication for something.

As we exited the boutique, I heard a voice shout “Gwendolyn? Gwendolyn Walker is that you?” Mother proceeds to walk a little faster as the voice got louder, and footsteps got closer.

“Gwendolyn, I knew that was you!” The voice said. My mother and I turned around and were faced to face with. Rachel.

(Picture of Rachel)

“Oh. Rachel.” My mother said dryly. “Gwendolyn, I knew that was you. You’d never leave a mall without both arms full.” She said with shade to her tone. She quickly looked over at me. I looked away not wanting to hear what too had to say.

“Prudence is that you. I heard you left the hospital early. Is that safe? I heard around the neighborhood you’ve gotten yourself in some trouble. You should keep a better eye on her Gwendolyn, everyone’s talking about it.” She said with a bit of spite in her voice.

“You’re one to talk Rachel. Is Jonathan out of prison yet? And that other son of yours Avery isn’t he, mooching off of his cheating little girlfriend. And that thing you call a husband? Are you divorced yet? Because the things I’ve heard about him yeesh, I wouldn’t even hold hands with a creature like that. Talk all the shit you want Rachel, but I’ve never had to question my position as a mother. I’m not perfect but at least my kids are good. Can you say the same?” She said as turned around walked away.

I followed behind closely as we exited the mall. We returned to my mother’s car and she drove home. About 45 minutes later we arrived home. My mother put the car in park and unbuckled her seat belt.

“Mom,” I said. “Yes.” She responded back. “Back there with Rachel. Do you? Do you think she’s right? That I’m dangerous?” I said feeling and sounding as insecure as I did when I was a child.

“Prue. I- I don’t think you’re dangerous.” She said. She sighed as she turned to face me. “I’m just scared. I don’t know what to do. I’m just as lost as you are right now. I just want you to find yourself to be happy. That’s why today I let you take control when it came to the way you style your hair, your make-up, and even pick out the clothes you want. You may be in these positions where we’re all concerned about you but enabling you and treating you as if-as if something is wrong with you won’t help you heal.” She spoke.

“Last night, when you told your father and me about the art, I had to admit I was very upset. I don’t get what you like about it. But when you said it would help you it dawned on me that my job as a mother is to make sure that you are happy, healthy, and being the best version of yourself you can be. Right now, I am failing at my job. But I, I realized that supporting you is the only way I can help you. That all of us as a family can help you. And it bothers me to see you go and stray from my traditional values, but I have to let you. You’re an adult and I have to be content with the choices you make in life whether I like them or not.” She said.

“Thank you, mom. For trying, for being there. For your support through this.” I said as we exited out of the car and grabbed all of our bags. I greeted my father and went upstairs and organized my closet. I threw out my old art supplies and neatly organized my new ones. I then hung up my new clothes. Lastly, I organized my make-up in my vanity, decluttering any old junk in the draws.

I then threw myself on my bed and pulled out my phone and saw I had a new message from Mallory. I guess I better get used to it, huh. We began to text back and forth.

We continued texting until my sister kept begging me for a selfie and I kept declining her. Suddenly, my phone screen changed as I saw that Mallory began to Facetime me. I hated Facetime and phone calls. I was more comfortable communicating via text. I quickly grabbed my air pods from out of my pocket and tapped my screen to answer.

(Facetime call between Prue and Mallory)

“Ha! Caught you! You look so cute! I knew you would! Also, sorry, I know you prefer to text. But I wanted to ask you something in person. Well as close to in-person as possible.” She said.

“Okay,” I said.

“So...” She said as she drew out her words. Just as though, she’s up to something. Normally when Mallory drew out her words like that, she was about to suggest something that the other person was normally not a fan of.

“Mallory,” I said slightly warningly.

“Okay. Okay, I wanted to invite you over to dinner at my place. I know the first time didn’t go well but… I wanted to make up for it. Before you say no or that you need time to think about it, I just want to say Jahmal and I would be really happy to have you over and I would make your favorite.” I looked at her skeptically when she said my favorite.

“Yes, your actual favorite.” She said with emphasis on the word your. Well, at least I knew my sister and my brother-in-law, but I wasn’t keen on small talk and I knew that it would be an extremely awkward night considering all that’s happened in the last few days. But I could try I suppose and if I felt uncomfortable, I would leave.

“Okay,” I said.

“Really! Okay, great! We’re thinking in two weeks on Saturday the 19th at 7:00 PM.” She said cheerfully.

“Okay, I’ll see you then,” I said as I hung up. I tried not to get anxiety about what I just agreed too. So, I decided to go to my closet and grab my sketchbook and pencils and draw something. At least I’ve found something that can tame my worry and panic, even for a few minutes.

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Links to:

Chapter 3

Masterpost

I wanted to thank everyone who has liked or reblogged anything that has to do with this story. I want to give a HUGE SHOUTOUT to the following people for showing me some support (I apologize if i’m missing any names)!!

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florrickandassociates · 4 years

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TGF Thoughts: 4x01-- The Gang Deals with Alternate Reality

I had a lot to say about this one, guys.

Welcome back! I see this season TGF has decided to be It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Is this some sort of joke about how last season it was always raining? Is every title going to be like this? And where are the numbers!? There is no counting of any kind in this episode title!

When you think about it, the central argument of this episode-- that 45’s election brought new life to resistance movements that would’ve otherwise laid dormant-- is also my central argument about why TGF is a good show instead of a passable one. Remember how in season one the point of the show was supposed to be a fake scandal about Maia?

So it’s fitting that we begin season four by going back to the show’s pilot: Inauguration Day. Only this time, Diane is happily watching Hillary Clinton’s inauguration. Did I say happily? I meant ecstatically.

As Diane pops champagne, the TV goes to static-- something’s off-- and the credits begin. Same credits as season 3 but with one key difference: things are coming together rather than exploding. I see what you did there. (The TVs still explode, though, and they still have the real 45 on them.)

Yeah I didn’t need to see the credits to know the Kings wrote this one.

I think the notes the Kings left in the script for this episode for Brooke Kennedy just said, “Make Diane look like a glamorous badass.” I’m like one minute in and she’s already popped champagne and worn trendy sunglasses.

Brooke’s directing in this episode is so stylish and it might be my favorite ep she’s ever done? The showiness (and sometimes campy performances) REALLY work for the tone of this episode.

Diane takes the elevator to work and looks quizzical. One may be tempted to ask how Diane knows to go to RBL if it’s the day after inauguration and she’s still at Lockhart Deckler whatever (one may then snark that RBL is in the LG space so she’d go there no matter what). The answer is: dream logic!

(But really, little disorienting moments like that-- and yes, I know this was probably only disorienting for me and one other person-- help the episode work long before we know this isn’t a true alternate universe.)

Marissa is waiting at reception to inform Diane that HRC’s press secretary is in her office. Diane then asks Marissa who the president is, and Marissa asks Diane if she’s microdosing again. Ha! Also, that’s another clear clue that something’s up-- Diane wouldn’t have already microdosed right after inauguration. And why would Diane have microdosed in this AltVerse? Again-- dream logic. And I love it. In episodes like this, when things don’t add up, it’s wonderfully disorienting instead of frustrating. (Plus, this line is a knowing wink at fans about the absurdity of the microdosing storyline.)

Marissa confirms that it’s 2020 in show time. Diane has a flash of a selection of horrific images that have come out of these last few years, then says, ”God, have you ever had a dream that is so real that it takes you a long time to wake up?” I wish.

Diane wants to know how Hillary won, and Marissa says she won in a landslide-- 3 million votes. “Same as in my dream,” Diane says. Marissa thinks she means the other candidate had 3 million more votes, and wonders how he won if he had fewer votes. On one hand, Marissa totally knows about the electoral college. On the other hand, would “3 million votes” and hating the electoral college be cliched and top of mind enough to work as the joke in this scene if those votes had actually mattered? Probably not. I doubt many people would be talking about abolishing the electoral college, or that Marissa or even Diane would be SO quick to understand how one could win the popular vote and not the election, if we hadn’t all lived through the past three years. Also dream logic. It’s a great way of explaining things that are out of character.

“Whatever, it’s a dream, it doesn’t have to make sense,” says Marissa, making my point for me.

Oh hello there Lucca, your jacket is very bright. Lucca asks to sit in on Diane’s meeting with the press secretary. Lucca was up for a partnership in 3x10 but in this episode she’s very obviously an underling (and honestly seems a bit lower ranking and hesitant than usual-- I’ll need another episode or two to understand if this is how the writers are writing Lucca, how Diane views Lucca, or just what was easiest for the plot).

The White House is now asking Diane to take on cases. Way to dream big, Diane!

And Diane will be arguing in front of the Supreme Court!

In the alternate universe, Liz’s wonderful bathroom belongs to Diane.

Diane gets to do so many things she wouldn’t usually do in this ep, like furiously shake her head to prove to herself she’s not dreaming!

Diane still has that Girl With Flower As Head painting and I do not believe she would have that painting if HRC were president because it’s too friggin weird. Also has it always had a US flag in the background?

In the alternate universe, Garland and Warren (as in Elizabeth) are both on the court. It’s a good laughline precisely because it’s so plausible. (Well, idk about the Warren part, but she’s a recognizable name.)

Diane looks so happy she could cry when she learns Warren is on the Supreme Court.

There is a shot of Lucca that is so very clearly from Diane’s POV and I like it. I read a review of this episode that said it didn’t have enough character development. To that I say, one, this isn’t TGW-- this show has always been more about tone and theme, and two, there’s PLENTY here that’s about Diane’s POV and how she views others and thinks of herself. Because it’s dream logic I can’t make nearly as much out of it as I can make out of an episode like A Few Words, but there are little touches here and there. Even this shot of Lucca, where Lucca’s in the center of the frame shot from a high angle, grounds me in Diane’s POV. You could even make an argument about hierarchy based on the angle.

“Who’s that?” Lucca whispers when Diane asks about Kavanaugh. Diane is elated at that response.

Somehow we leave Diane’s POV (whatever, it’s a dream so I won’t be as brutal to this choice as I was to a similar but more subtle one in Don’t Fail) and follow Lucca into Adrian’s office. She immediately tells Liz and Adrian she’s concerned about Diane. That sounds like Lucca alright.

Diane is DANCING in her office as she watches news coverage that isn’t a garbage fire.

I’m curious y’all-- are people in your area cheering at a certain time? Hearing cheers every night during this pandemic is one of the few things I like about this awful moment in time. (My recap writing was just interrupted by cheering, if you couldn’t guess the reason for this abrupt digression.)

News stories in alternate reality: Cancer has been cured, there is polar bear overpopulation, the rainforest has been saved, 45 is REDUCING the amount of content he’s putting out into the world, and $35,000 is missing from some government agency. Ha. All that and people are hung up on $35,000? Sounds about right, actually.

Diane hugs Liz and Adrian because she feels like a weight has been lifted off of her. I appreciate that Diane acts without restraint or concern for what other people think in this episode. This is central to why I think this episode is actually a pretty good character study: this is who Diane imagines herself to be, more or less. Real Diane, no matter how bizarre things are, probably would handle herself more professionally in a work meeting and probably wouldn’t let feelings like this show. Dream Diane has no reason to double check herself. This is just how she thinks she’d react if there were absolutely no constraints. Not that she’s actively thinking- she’s just doing.

Diane is very excited to be watching the news, and Adrian thinks she’s nuts-- there are scandals! Like the missing $35k and THE EMAILS. The GODDAMN EMAILS. Even a fictional joke about how they’d still be a scandal makes me mad. Twenty years from now it will still be too soon to remind me of the emails. (And to play Fight Song, that song is cancelled.)

A haircut is also a scandal because sexism.

I admire this show for calling attention to problems on both sides without ever screaming BOTH SIDES ARE EQUALLY BAD. This episode may call out some of the good things that have happened as a result of the 2016 election, but the whole premise of this joke rests on the fact that only one of the two potential administrations could run through a year’s worth of scandals in a day.

Might circle back to this later on-- btw I write these after watching the whole episode, so I do know what’s going to happen next-- but I don’t think the show is trying to make the case that it’s good 45 was elected. I think they’re trying to ask questions about how the world has changed and cause and effect so we can understand the moment we’re in. Above, I said I liked hearing my neighbors cheer every night. And I could write a lot of words on how that collective activity inspires me, makes me feel connected even when I’ve been stuck inside for a month, etc, how I’ve gotten better about keeping in touch with old friends, whatever, and NONE of that would mean that a global pandemic is a good thing. It just means that like any huge societal phenomenon, its implications are complex.

TGF and TGW have always, always, always been shows about understanding where we are in time. That’s what this episode does. And it makes sense to do a thought experiment like this now, at the start of season 4, in a season opener. We’ve had enough time living in this world that we can reflect on it.

Diane laughs, because what Diane dream sequence would be complete without a glorious laugh?

Adrian’s kinda suspicious of Hillary. Sure, cancer’s been cured, but it’s not public how or when!

God it’s weird to hear some of the most absurd happenings of the last three years as punchlines.

The line about the Obama’s overall deal at Netflix is fire.

Diane laughs AGAIN.

Oh right, Harriet Tubman was going to be on the $20 bill. (Is it obvious yet that I am the exact right target for this episode?)

Julius is VERY mad about Hillary’s $500 haircut. Heh. He’s also publicly supporting Trump which is interesting (and probably a dream logic thing; Diane knows he supported Trump therefore in her dream he isn’t ever hesitant to share that he voted for Trump.)

“Only Hillary could cure cancer and turn it into a scandal,” someone else adds. I’m loving all these jokes. He is mad cancer wasn’t cured earlier and that it’s been cured in an election year. This joke is funny because it’s exactly what would happen in this scenario.

I wonder if Julius would be more likely to speak up about his political affiliation if the stakes were lower. If 45 lost, then is supporting him as much of a thing to hide in a place like RBL? People would be mad but they probably would get over their moral opposition to his views a lot faster when it isn’t a real threat.

Diane’s brought in a huge client, which is news to her. And that client is none other than Harvey Weinstein, which… my God this is an interesting thought experiment.

“I’m amazed you got him away from Lisa Bloom,” Adrian says. YIKES!!!! (If y’all haven’t read Catch and Kill yet, pick up a copy ASAP.)

No one’s heard of Weinstein’s sexual assault issues. I believe it. I mean, I think some women in power might have known before 2017-- I still vividly recall how many journalists reacted to the release of the story not with “Oh my God, how has this been going on for so long?” but with “Holy shit, someone managed to publish a story about this?!”-- but I’ll believe that the general consensus in elite liberal circles was to set the rumors aside and not share them widely.

I can’t watch this episode without thinking about VIP Treatment (2x05 of TGW). That episode, which raises the question of what happens when someone accuses a liberal legend of sexual assault, feels so ahead of its time. It aired in 2010. And I just, right this moment, learned that it was ripped from the headlines about accusations a masseuse made against Al Gore. Guys. I didn’t know there were allegations in 2010 about Al Gore. Is that because I was 16 in 2010 and just never heard of (or forgot about) the story? Is it because he had less power? Is it because of something specific about the reporting or the allegations? Or is it because we as a culture swept it under the rug since it was (allow me to be the millionth person to make this awful joke) an inconvenient truth?

I don’t know the answers to the above. What I do know is that this episode is making me ask those questions.

In Marissa’s world (“you mean reality?”), 45 bragged about grabbing women by the pussy and then lost the election. And the story ended there. There was no women’s march, no #MeToo.

Sarah Steele gets to react to a lot of things in this episode and it is very delightful to see her say things like, “what are pussy hats?”

Diane looks so angry and stunned when she realizes that Weinstein is still “a thing” in the world.

He won the Presidential Medal of Freedom because of course he did.

His wikipedia page says his only controversies are about his managerial style. Yikes.

Marissa’s reaction to the phrase “masturbating into plants” is one of the best things about this episode. I love that she gets so hung up on it.

Charlie Rose is the first name other than Weinstein that comes to mind for Diane when Marissa asks what other men were serial harassers. I’ve got to think that Rose gets the most attention here in no small part because he was part of the CBS family-- he was even on TGW.

I’ve seen Annaleigh Ashford in so many things recently.

Diane handles the meeting with Team Weinstein VERY poorly (she also does not care to handle it well), while Adrian covers with the “all options are open to us” gibberish that Diane absolutely would be able to convincingly deploy in a meeting she couldn’t follow. I point this out because it shows that 1) Diane isn’t behaving the way she would in reality and 2) Diane does not give a fuck.

If this were reality, would Diane push so hard in this meeting? I don’t know. This situation is so far removed from reality it’s hard to tell. But my sense is that Diane would like to think of herself as someone who would never waver in her commitment to Doing The Right Thing, but she’d probably be a lot more diplomatic-- even in real 2020-- in initial meetings. It’s a bit dated at this point, but in VIP Treatment Diane was hesitant to believe the victim because the man accused of assault was a high profile liberal. To her credit, she does eventually choose the victim over her own politics. But I could totally see Diane-- with no knowledge of the real timeline-- behaving like her friend/HRC’s press secretary Zoe does in this episode.

All that to say: personally, I don’t think #MeToo would’ve caught on to the extent it did if women weren’t already angry. I believe there could have been a hashtag and some stories (maybe even the Weinstein story). But I also believe women felt an urgent need to speak out and organize. And I believe that more women were inclined to believe victims and get angry. And I believe that it was only because of the world in general that #MeToo spread outside of a few online circles. To put it another way, you know how there are sometimes cases of the week on this show where you might know the reference in detail, but if you ask a co-worker or friend about it they’ll know either nothing or only the very basics? I think all of #MeToo could’ve ended up like one of those cases if it hadn’t played out with 2017 in the background.

Dreams aren’t subtle: Weinstein’s publicity tour includes appearances with Charlie Rose and Matt Lauer. (This joke also serves as a reminder that sexual harassment is a systemic problem.)

Diane is SO confrontational in this meeting. Also, the woman they’re meeting with is SO FRIGGIN COMPLICIT.

Weinstein’s team frames sexual assault allegations-- which are still floating around even in alt2020-- as a Republican conspiracy. I have no doubt they would have used this approach if given the chance.

I’m on page six and fifteen minutes in, damn.

Adrian, or Diane’s version of Adrian, does not believe women and seems to hate Hillary Clinton a little bit too. An accurate portrayal of Adrian? Lines that betray Diane’s suspicion of where Adrian stands on women’s issues? Or just that Adrian is there to be the person pushing back and it could’ve been anyone? (I think it’s somewhere between the first two, personally. If this could’ve been anyone, why not Liz?)

In this alternate universe NBC’s refusal to broadcast Ronan Farrow’s investigation is proof of Weinstein’s innocence, because in the alt universe we still apparently have faith in the corporate culture at NBC. (Perhaps the most surprising thing to me about Catch and Kill is that a LOT of it is dedicated to exposing the shit that went down within NBC. It’s fascinating and also makes it crystal clear how assault is a systemic problem and not just a few bad apples you should avoid being alone with.)

Adrian’s reaction when Diane mentions Reddick (Adrian knows nothing of the accusations in this universe) changes the tone of this scene in an instant and it’s breathtaking. This is the one moment in the episode where she knows she has to shut up.

The one thing about this ep I am not sure I buy is that the firm is struggling because of the rise in corporate taxes. But I know so little about this issue I don’t care if it’s right or wrong.

After Diane leaves Adrian’s office, Liz asks, “What about my dad?” meaning she somehow heard the conversation through the wall. (The door was definitely closed so either their office design is worse than I thought or it’s just dream logic.) Diane doesn’t share the rumor with Liz.

Lucca is for some reason on this case, and they are for some reason in court on the same day they learned about the case. And the best part is that I don’t have to worry about whether or not this is plausible BECAUSE IT’S ALL A DREAM

Another thing I’ll say about this ep-- it’s pace remarkably well. The opening previews what’s to come, there’s just enough happy liberal utopia with funny jokes at the start, the Weinstein twist comes at the right moment, and the shift to the more dark, character focused scenes that wrap up the episode come exactly when the writers have gotten as much mileage as they can out of this premise. I knew this episode would be fantastic the moment I saw it was only 41 minutes long.

The judge keeps saying the opposing counsel’s full name, Ann Howard. Is this supposed to be a familiar name to me? I am not getting the reference.

The judge’s ruling is basically that no one would take the risk involved in assaulting someone at work these days so the case must be bogus. And then we see, immediately (because, dream) that the judge is totally corrupt and just wants to get his daughter an internship with Weinstein.

“Justice is an equation. Justice equals the law times the zeitgeist. The law on its own doesn’t stand up. You need the mood of the times on your side,” Diane eloquently explains. That’s basically what this episode is saying. To put it more simply: Context matters and nothing happens in a vacuum. (TGF and TGW were always about the context-- you simply couldn’t do a show about a woman standing by her cheating politician husband and being REVERED for it in 2020. That’s not about the law, but the same principle applies.)

Lucca says they won, so the zeitgeist worked for them-- and how could it be against women when the president is a woman? Remember how the Kings used to say that TGF was going to be about Diane retiring because she thought the glass ceiling had been shattered? I always thought that sounded wrong, but this episode is helping me understand what they were thinking a little bit.

Lucca calls out Diane, a bit abruptly, on how only the woman partners probably would get to say “no more” if there were to be a women’s movement because the associates can’t risk it. Lucca’s right and she’s wrong-- her words underestimate how mainstream and trendy it’s become to publicly talk about sexual harassment, but she’s 100% right that there are still underlying power dynamics.

Diane’s Lucca is V V V V V V V concerned with power dynamics and VERY much wants to be higher ranking. On the one hand, actual Lucca wants to rank higher too. On the other, is there a piece of Diane that sees Lucca as power hungry?

Lucca’s asked to take documents to Weinstein, and she’s flattered. Diane, like every viewer, sees this as a car crash in slow motion. She knows exactly what will happen when Lucca gets to his hotel with the documents. But Lucca, who’s in the dark, only knows it’s a good opportunity to impress a huge client.

Diane tells Weinstein’s… whatever she is? That she is “Harvey’s pimp” and she is not wrong. Also since I don’t actually know this woman’s job title I’ll just refer to her that way moving forward.

(See what I mean about Diane just saying things that are totally unprofessional bc this is a dream Diane who does what she wants and not actual Diane making tough decisions?)

Lucca is REALLY bitter about how Diane is always taking opportunities away from her. They’re definitely trying to do something with Lucca in this episode but as I said earlier, I think I need to see what they have planned for the rest of the season before I can fully understand what they’re going for.

Diane tells Lucca exactly what is going to happen when she goes to drop off the papers. Lucca won’t hear it, so Diane asks Marissa to keep an eye on her.

Another possibility for what they’re trying to do with Lucca (and Adrian): Maybe it’s supposed to be about how different Types would react-- the powerful man who benefits from not questioning things and has some latent sexism issues; the ambitious young woman who gets caught in a bad situation because she’s trying to move her career forward. The more I think about it, the more I think this is what they’re going for-- and the question I should be asking is what does it mean about Adrian and Lucca (in terms of how the writers see them, in terms of how Diane sees them) that they can take on these roles so easily?

(It may say nothing about Diane because… idk, do YOU do thoughtful character analysis in your sleep? Because I don’t!)

Marissa is still stuck on the plants and I love it.

Lucca catches Marissa right away, but all that accomplishes is that both of them clearly see that Diane is right. These scenes feel a little unnecessary (they’re also not in Diane’s POV, though surely dreams can have tangents) and I think they’re only here to illustrate how the system works. I can’t imagine this scene is teaching many people new information.

Also there’s… just not another scene with Lucca in this episode? And I don’t know if I feel like that’s a bad thing or like it’s part of dream logic? I think it’s probably just bad plotting that the unnecessary sequence ends abruptly and doesn’t return.

“With the presidency, women can do whatever they want,” says one of Diane’s liberal friends at a women’s event. I’m… not 100% sure anyone would say this. If this were true why would they even be having a gala for a women’s charity? But point taken. People love this type of statement.

So Diane’s extremely low cut dress like has a mesh thing covering her exposed chest??I can’t figure it out.

Weinstein is also a hero to everyone at the feminist charity. When Diane hears this, she gives an interview to a reporter about having a long way to go, which I 100% believe would be the message no matter reality we’re in what because literally no one is going to say please donate to my cause we have no battles left to fight BUT I DIGRESS. Diane tries to ignite #MeToo (and even name checks Tarana Burke, so that’s awesome) and is quickly cut off.

Then, after giving the interview, she has Jay (hello!) set her up on Twitter. Dream Diane is revealing just how little she understands how social media works. She also wants to link to a “Me Too Site” which is… not how any of this works, Diane.

Diane sees herself on the news-- she’s mostly cut from the piece and her words are taken out of context.

Adrian and Liz stare Diane down for calling Weinstein’s pimp a pimp and Diane defends herself. Liz doesn’t believe this either. Diane is asked to sign a VERY RIDICULOUS (like it sounds like 45 more than anything else) apology letter and laughs.

Liz reminds her that they’re close to bankruptcy and that they’ve defended killers before (oh, and, most relevant-- the assholes to avoid case, I can’t believe I went to 205 to think about how Diane would react in a more nuanced present day situation when I had that example!), why would Diane draw the line here? “Everyone deserves a defense. Just not everyone deserves MY defense,” Diane says. You know it’s a dream when a character on this show actually says that. Do you know how many times (if you’re still reading this you probably do know) I have written something to the effect of “SAYING EVERYONE DESERVES REPRESENTATION IS NOT THE SAME AS REPRESENTING THEM YOURSELF, LIZ/DIANE/ADRIAN/WILL/ALICIA/CARY/LUCCA/WHOEVER”? It’s been a lot.

(Here is something I wrote in a case in which Diane, at the height of #MeToo, defended some assholes for money: “‘I wouldn’t say hate. We’re obligated,�� Diane says. Ohhh yes this is a new pet peeve. Y’all are not obligated. You were not assigned this case. You chose to take it for the money.”)

Idk what my point is here, maybe that this feels like a dream because the characters are never this principled in reality.

Zoe, the press secretary, wants Diane to shut down #MeToo. Lucca’s there too, but she says nothing (despite the experience she may have just had, because dream). Zoe doesn’t want women to get angry about abuse because “that’s not the message that helps us in 2020.” Ooof. But I buy it. I am not sure if it’s ACCURATE that anger wouldn’t help but I can completely see campaign staffers being afraid it would hurt, especially given that Bill Clinton has… more than a few issues.

This scene veers into Diane’s POV. The camera gets closer and closer to her as she feels boxed in, and Liz, Adrian, and the pimp stare accusingly at her. Suddenly she realizes she doesn’t know where Kurt is because she’s spent the last few days at work. I think the most dream-like thing about this is the way Kurt just suddenly pops into the dream and shifts the tone of the whole thing.

She runs off. Liz and Adrian ask Diane to step back from the firm for Weinstein and she’s like, okay, I’m going home, “I don’t know how I changed my clothes, I went to that event last night and I have different clothes on now and I don’t know where Kurt is.” I LOVE watching this whole episode twist into something this weird.

When Diane gets home, there’s a man fixing her door. He’s watching Trump TV, which is currently airing Felix Staples singing “This Wall is Your Wall” and honestly this is the best use of Felix Staples in the show so far.

The man fixing Diane’s door also remembers reality. He doesn’t know why he’s fixing Diane’s door. It’s disorienting.

Diane gets a beer with the man fixing her door and wonders about if she even likes this world where HRC is president (or if the problem is just that she doesn’t believe it). (I think she’d like it just fine if she experienced it linearly, tbh.)

Sexy gun lady from a previous episode is back, and Kurt’s guns are missing because he didn’t want them to be confiscated (I do not believe this would ever be a policy but this is a full on illogical dream right now) and now Diane is talking to the TV.

“I’m in the car, right?” Diane says while standing in her bedroom and pretending to grab a steering wheel. Heh.

Diane drives to a cabin in the woods (the way this is shot is SO atmospheric) and finds Kurt, in shadow, in the woods. So THIS is what Robert King was going for in Mind’s Eye in the clumsily directed scene with fake Will in shadow. Gotta say, the whole “person you love and can’t quite picture” thing works a ton better when it is obvious it’s an intentional style choice.

This scene is so weird because suddenly politics doesn’t matter and Diane only cares about Kurt and also Kurt might be dead? I am not sure I understand what this is saying. And I’m pretty sure I spent the entirety of this scene the first time through alternating between thinking “ooh pretty”, “this is what 614 wanted to be,” and “please don’t kill Kurt!!”

Kurt pulls Diane to reality and gets her to recap where we left off. She wakes up on the floor of her bedroom. She and Kurt have both, thankfully, survived Book Club’s SWATting.

HA the first thing Diane says when she wakes up is “What happened?” which… that HAS to be intentional right????

To check that Diane is of sound mind, one of the agents asks her how many fingers he’s holding up and who’s president. She laughs.

This episode is UNDER 40 minutes if you exclude the credits and promo.

Guess we’re not doing recap songs.

Had a lot to say about this one. I’ve liked TGW’s mind-y episodes more, but that’s not really a fair comparison since the point of this wasn’t character study… it was tone setting.

What this episode does NOT give me is a sense of what season 4 will be about, other than the usual absurdity.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

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Kids, Monsters, D&D, and Adults (Sriracha, Part. 18)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: You decided to give Hopper a short break from seeing you every day... But you didn't know how much can happen in your hometown in a week and a half you're gone.

A/N: And... Welcome Mr. Demogorgon disrupting everyone’s life on the stage, please, give it up for him! (Reader is on holiday in North Dakota during the events of the first season.)

A/N 2: I went a bit off the OG events, but here, I have drunk Hopper on the phone mumbling about being cursed for you, enjoy, please. Actually inspired by Heroes (Peter Gabriel's cover) - the song playing when they found Will's body.

Word count: 4.1 K

Tagging: @nemodoren, @creedslove

Master list: H E R E

Just as your mom asked you to, two days after the dinner at your parents’, Jim dropped you off at your house in the early morning. It was more or less safe since it was only five in the morning and Hawkins was dead asleep at the moment. You didn't want him to be alone, but he brushed you off with ’it's only twelve days, what can happen during that?’ and you reminded him of what you had done in twelve days, leaving him with a nasty grin.

You both almost fainted, because just in the middle of your heated making-out session, just as his hand palmed your thigh as you basically climbed onto his seat, your brother came out of the house along with Steve, grinning. Steve looked at both of you with confusion before turning around and disappearing.

Steve Harrington had a girlfriend now, or so you heard. Nancy Wheeler became to lucky one, at least that was what the rumors were saying. He couldn't forgive about the endless crush on you, though.¨

You told Hopper to leave for work before your mom sees him there, laughing as Aiden helped you with your stuff, greeting Hopper. He really did drive, honking at your parents, waving at them as he left for the station.

It was the third of November - you were supposed to see Hopper again on the sixteenth day of that month. And you were honestly ready to take a short break from the everlasting dishes and laundry at your house and just relax before coming back to the arms of the man you grew to adore.

To be honest, you loved your father’s parents’ house in North Dakota - it was a big house in the middle of nothing, ten minutes away from the nearest signs civilization. The sixteen-hours lasting road trip in your/Aiden's car was almost endless and it was hot like hell at whiles, but in the end, you loved the view more than anything.

You had also a lot of family members, like aunties and cousins your age there and you were excited to meet all of them after such a long time. You promised a call to Hopper as soon as you reach their house - and so you did, giving him the number as well. It was midnight, but you knew that he’s waiting for it. And of course, he picked up as soon as you started ringing, laughing like a small kid when you told him that he rather should go to sleep.

It was a quick call just to reassure you that he's fine - you asked him about food and laundry and he told you, with a chuckle, that you're worried too much and that he managed to survive forty years without you - that thirteen days is basically nothing.

Most of the days, you spent walking around in the wilderness. Your cousin Corrie showed you a pack of wild bison living near your grandparent’s house and a great overlook. Other days, you and your other cousin Jane helped your granny with baking and cooking or tiding up. Everyone was thrilled to have you there because they saw both you and Aiden once a year. They took you to the local cinema, for some shopping and even for a time at the local pool and local dance. You were enjoying yourself the most you could.

Everyone was surprised when someone asked you the typical question - ’And do you have a boyfriend already?’ - and your mom answered ’She, in fact, has. And it's a lovely lad.’, winking at you. She still wasn't okay with Hopper, it was only four days since the dinner, but she was slowly adjusting to the situation. They asked you a lot about that mysterious ’Jim’, but you never told them much about your man.

It came on the third day you were in Dakota - the sixth of November. You were just playing with your four-year-old cousin Marty, building Lego spaceships, when your grandma came into the room, holding a phone in her hand, handing you the handset.

“It’s some Mr. Hopper. He told me that he has to speak to you immediately. He told me that he knows you.” - She whispered while you put Jim on your ear, nodding. You let Marty play with the Lego and left to an empty room.

“Do you miss me that much, Mr. Hopper?” - You joked, but at the moment you heard Jim sighing, you knew that somethings extremely wrong in Hawkins. First, you thought that maybe he wants to break up with you - but then you remembered him asking about your panties yesterday when you called him around two a.m. and shook the thought off. - “What's going on, Jim? I'm here. Is it Vietnam? New York? Sara?”

“No, it's not that... I just... Jesus, I feel like I need to talk to someone and you're the only one who is goin’ to listen to me and actually understands.” - Okay, so Mr. Hopper was clearly drunk and smoking on the other end of the line, so you sat down on a sofa, exhaling slowly. - “Sometimes... I feel like shit, but you know that. But now, I feel fuckin' cursed, Y/N. And you're not here to stop me from doin’ shit.” - He giggled drunkenly and you stiffened. What was his fucking deal? Had something happened after you left Hawkins? Had Diane called? Did something happen at the station? Did Steve fucking Harrington tell someone what he saw? You swore to God...

“Jim, what you're after? I don't understand, baby, you need to tell me what's wrong.” - You mumbled back and looked at Aiden, who was just checking in on you. You mouthed ’Hopper’ and he nodded before closing up the door after him, telling everyone to keep off the line and out of the room.

“I'm a fuckin’ black hole, y’ know? All the fuckin’ shit that ever happened in Hawkins... It follows me. The last case of person goin’ missin’ happened in the summer of ’23 and the last suicide here was on the fall of ’61, y’ know?” - He asked you rhetorically and you just kept on being silent, trying to decipher the meaning of his entire speech.

“And when I find someone or somethin’ I can fight for or when I feel safe for a minute, it all goes to shit after a while, it all just fuckin' goes to shit.” - Jim said and you could hear him crying.

“Will you tell me what happened finally? You're freaking me out, Jim.” - You asked silently, playing with the hem of your sweater. Hopper was clearly angry and terrified of something - he would probably get drunk even if you were in Hawkins. His voice was emotionless, he was playing the tough guy card at the moment.

“A kid got lost today.” - He answered honestly and your breath got stuck a bit, but you kept your damn mouth shut since you could hear him taking a breath to continue. - “I thought he has just wandered off the main road or somethin’ but it really looks like that kid’s missin’. It's the Byers boy, that younger one.” - He told you and you closed your eyes. No wonder he felt like shit when a kid got lost in the woods, probably.

“Have you found something, Jim? Don't be angry or sad, there's still hope.” - You whispered, watching your cousin Diane in the same age little Will was playing outside with a ball.

You knew Joyce Byers from occasionally visiting Melvald’s in the downtown. You remember the day you walked in and while you were handing her the cash, she pointed out on a drawing of a big rainbow spaceship and proudly, she said ’My son Will drew this.’ You knew her boys from meeting them sometimes. The brothers were a bit weird, but when a kid goes missing, you don't care if they were weird or not.

You just want to find them as quickly as possible.

"A bike if that's what you wanna call 'a find'." - Hopper mouthed back and you could hear him crying, he just couldn't handle the situation anymore. It was breaking your heart to hear him being this much fucked up. You wanted to hug him, press your body onto his, hold him tight and whisper him sweet nothings. You wanted to kiss him and make things right at least for a second.

"James Hopper, you better listen to me right now. You're the best cop I've ever seen. Stop whining, go to sleep now and you're going to find this fucking kid because that kid is lost somewhere in the woods, it's freezing to death, it's terrified and alone, you hear me?" - You said aggressively, being completely done with him and his self-shaming shit at that point. - "You won't duck out and you will make me proud."

You talked to him until the moment he really fell asleep, walking out of the empty room after the phone went silent. There were emptiness and horror inside of you. Will Byers got lost and your boyfriend promised himself to find him. You were destroyed, tired and worried for Jim, but you encouraged him enough to trust in himself. Or at least you thought so.

"What happened? Is Hopper doing okay?" - Your mom asked with a furrow as soon as you entered the door and you shook your head, looking at her with terror. They were just having a huge family dinner outside your granny's house, everyone from the family came to greet you.

"A kid went missing in Hawkins. You remember that little Byers? He always rode the bike with his friends, they were inseparable." - You mumbled and your mom only let out quiet 'Oh God' to summarize the whole situation. She went on a and gave Joyce a call - to tell her not to lose hope in finding Will.

You haven't left the house for the other two days - Hopper could call literally every minute and almost everyone got invested in that kid going missing. You missed a few cool trips here and there, but Hopper hadn't disappointed; he gave you heads up every few other hours. And you even laughed at times which you definitely didn't expect - like the time when it came to talking with Will's best friends.

"You wouldn't believe how bad I am with kids, these little fuckers were just fuckin' around with me, talkin’ about Lord of the Rings and stuff... Jesus." - Hopper mumbled with a quiet chuckle, lighting up another cigarette. He was calling you from a telephone booth and left Powell with Callahan in his Blazer, and according to his words, those men watched his every move. You chuckled at that. Jim really took your words directly to his heart, doing his best to save the damn kid. He was not giving up on that boy.

To find what happened, he talked with his best friends and the way he told you the investigation was going was so hilarious it made you laugh like crazy.

"No way. Jim Hopper is good at everything." - You hummed back and crossed your legs, thinking about some really nasty things.

"Am I? At what exactly, I can't seem to remember." - He asked in his deep voice and you knew that it's about to go really nasty. You yelled at your mom to get off the phone immediately through the whole fucking house just to have some privacy. Hopper, again, chuckled at that.

"Like... I don't know, folding clothes?" - You asked innocently still worrying that your mom's listening to that conversation. But as soon as you heard her yelling something at your cousins, you knew she really got off. - "After you tear it down off of me."

"Someone's in the mood to play, I see. I would like to stay and hear you foldin' your clothes, but the boys are in a hurry." - Jim whispered, yelling something at the two cops.

"Jim?" - You asked and you got only a hum as a response. - "Be safe out there, okay?"

"I'm missin' you here. I'm lookin' forward to seeing you." - He answered and the line got quiet again. You missed him as well, but in the end, you had only eight days in front of you. What could go wrong? And that was a dumb question to ask.

Well, a lot could go wrong actually, since the other day, Hopper's calls got less and less frequent until they stopped completely. It was the ninth of November when mom woke you up really late in the night. He handed you over the handset, making you sit up

"It's Hopper and he was really... Weird. It seems urgent. He was ringing the number fifteen minutes in a row." - She whispered and sat next to you on the bed, hugging your shoulder. It didn't matter how old Hopper was or what reputation did he have. He needed just as a human being needs another one to lean into. He needed you as a partner and no matter how stressful that was, you wanted to be there for him. And your mom understood that clearly.

"Jim, Jim, it's me." - You mumbled sleepily and listened to him hyperventilating. He was crying again, but he was trying to calm down now. He sometimes woke up with these panic attacks. Something went awfully off the rails in Hawkins. This wasn't the Jim you grew to know and love. - "Baby, stay here with me, let's do this together. Breathe in and out, just like that, that's it, that's it. In and out."

"We found the boy." - He muttered out when he calmed down finally. sobbing. He may pretend to be the rough edge guy, but you knew that's the exact opposite of his character when no-one can see him. He didn't get too friendly with people in Hawkins, but he cared about each one of them. That's why he was the Chief in the end.

"And what happened? Is everyone alright? Is he safe now?" - You asked and mouthed 'They found Will' to your mom. You were about to cry as well - he was making such heart-wrenching sounds that only that alone made your eyes water.

"He drowned in the quarry." - Hopper told you, lighting up a cigarette. - "He was decomposed, but the guys from the CIA told us that it's the boy for sure. Jesus." - And that was the moment you started to cry, putting a palm in front of your mouth. It wasn't hard to make out what had happened to little Will Byers.

"How's everyone doing? What about Joyce? Do you want me to come back? Just say a word and I'm on my way back, just like that." - You asked when you finally caught your breath. Your mom was holding you tight because it really had shocked you and she was also listening to everything Hopper said. She kissed your shoulder, closing her eyes. You have never spoken to that kid, but... He was so young. And according to Joyce really bright and creative. This wasn't fair. This just wasn't fair. He had a whole life ahead and now, it was just gone. Hopes were lost just like that. You felt the cold and emptiness growing in your chest again.

"No... Just stay there until I know it's safe here again, alrite? We'll be workin' with some guys from the state for a while now, closing the case up. " - Hopper told you sincerely and you hummed, crying again. - “The boy has a funeral tomorrow. I feel like this is on me, you know? Everyone was believin' that Jim fuckin' Hopper, the New York detective, will find the Byers boy alive and well... It's my fault."

"This doesn't mean you're a bad cop, Jim, okay?" - You asked him after a while when you made yourself calm down. - "This doesn't mean you suck at your job, baby. Don't put yourself down, you're a great cop and even a better person. The boy... It isn't your fault. I swear. We'll talk about it once I get back to Hawkins, okay?" - You asked worriedly. - "Please, send Joyce my deepest condolences. I'm..."

Hopper needed to be strong and so you needed to be strong as well. For him. You'd do everything for that man. If he would want you to go back to Hawkins immediately, you would go.

"Just keep out of Hawkins until I secure it again. If somethin' would go wrong with you, I don't think... I'm just really missin' you, sunshine." - Hopper mumbled tiredly and you understood. He needed to be alone, so you put the phone off the bed, looking at your mom. Hopper didn't cause this, but you knew he's going to put himself down horrendously after that. A boy's life was lost, but Hopper wasn't the one to blame.

But the worst thing about all of that? He hadn't called after that, not even once. You tried to occupy yourself with hikes and board games with your cousins, even playing some D&D, but there weren't any calls from Hopper from that day on. No matter how hard you wished for them, he hadn't call you. You called into the trail many times, but no-one had picked up.

That was the exact moment you had enough. If he was in danger, you wouldn't leave him like that, whether something bad happened to him or if it was his mind again.

You decided to come home earlier to check on him, which your mom agreed with. The sixteen-hours long drive with your car was horrendous, to say the least, but that very night, you stopped in front of Hopper's trail, basically storming inside. It was dark and empty, but you still hoped that Hopper left you a key under the mossy rock. It really was there.

You stopped yourself for a small moment before actually opening the door up, trying to prepare yourself for what will be inside of that trail. You almost threw up next to the stairs, opening the door finally. And for the fucking love of God, there was some serious mess inside of that trail.

You walked through it and saw at least a few tubes of Tuinal, each one of them empty, remnants of various fast food, beer cans, and full ashtrays literally everywhere. The furniture was messed up, the phone ripped out of the wall, TV laying on the side. The place looked robbed and for a moment, you got really, really worried.

Hopper wasn't nowhere to be found, so the last thing you could do was to sit and wait for him. While doing so, you decided to clean it up and cook some actual food. Before moving the furniture back in place, you checked the drawers, not finding his personal gun. Where was he and why did he take the gun with him?

He drove in pretty late in the night, it was almost midnight; you took a nap on the couch in the meantime, being dead asleep by the time he turned the engine off.

Hopper was thinking that he's hallucinating when he saw your car parked directly on its spot, but then he saw the turn on the light and you passed out in front of the TV through the window.

He took a deep breath in - he just came back from the Hawkins lab, closing another deal with them including Joyce and WIll, and he needed to think about what should he tell you. He wasn't willing to try his chances with telling you the truth; as he said, he wouldn't put you in danger under any circumstances and the men from the government weren't fucking around with anyone. He needed to come up with a story that would be believable and easy to swallow, but at the moment, he was just too tired to think of one. Jim slowly entered the trail, taking the coat off, putting it on a rack, trying not to wake you up yet.

You were beautiful when you fell asleep - your cheeks got rosy, you snuggled deep into the blanket, having a dreamy emotion on your face. He kneeled behind the couch, kissing your temple and smoothing your hair, gently waking you up.

"You're here sooner." - Jim whispered with a smile when you opened up your eyes. He just needed you by his side, no matter what anyone in Hawkins is going to say. Fuck them and fuck the rumors. It was safe now, you were his girl and everyone else could go fuck themselves.

"And you stopped calling. I was worried." - You mumbled, nuzzling closer to his hand, reaching out to hold the other one. - "Where were you? It's really late."

"Was visiting Joyce's, she needed someone to talk to. I would be here sooner if you'd give me heads up." - Hopper kissed your temple again, helping you with standing up. He watched one of those lazy smiles.

"How's she? Feeling better after Will..." - You whispered in a broken voice. Oh. Hopper realized that you still thought that Will has drowned in the quarry. He hadn't got exactly the time to call you since he was held at the lab of driving around Hawkins with children in his Blazer most of the time.

"The boy was found alive, thanks to God. He's in the hospital and he's gettin' better and better with each passin' day. He's a fighter." - Jim said quietly and tried not to put too much emotion into it, but you knew that it's making him happy. He led you through the whole trail, kissing your collar bone though the fabric of the shirt once you were standing up in the bedroom. - "I've missed you so fuckin' much." - The man moaned into the fabric of his very own shirt and just when he was about to lay you down, you stopped him and palmed his jaws, making the man look at you.

"I'm proud of you, Jim Hopper." - You said quietly with an adoring look in your eyes. Hopper would swear that he hasn't seen so much awe and love in someone's eyes until you gave him this look. - "You are a great man. And I can't imagine being in Hawkins without you." - You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss.

You gave him many kisses, but this one was somehow full of feelings and Jim warmed up when he felt the love radiating out of it. For a while, the thought of him saying those three words was lingering on his mind as you took off the shirt, pressing your naked torso into the fabric of his uniform.

It would be so easy to say them. Every time he called you to Dakota, you were there and listened to every word; you laughed when you were supposed to laugh and you were sad when you were supposed to be sad. To say that he found everything he asked for was just too little to express everything about you.

You continued with kissing him, not leaving him alone in that freezing night for a single second. Nothing felt better than having you back and at that moment, he first realized that he's in love with you. It never crossed his mind so clearly. He was deeply in love. But he didn't want to ruin the moment, so he helped you with taking your pants down.

It didn't matter how smelly he was, it didn't matter that he had a huge bruise on his arm, the only thing that mattered was it was him. That it was him staying there with you.

And you realized how much you've fallen for that guy. It was the best feeling you've ever felt.

#jim hopper imagine #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #jim hopper stranger things #stranger things hopper #stranger things netflix #stranger things #sriracha

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thorne93 · 5 years

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Unforeseen Chasm (Part 12)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count: 1657

Warnings: Language, torture

Song: Fallen Angel - Three Days Grace

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over two months you’d been on Asgard. Shannon hadn’t sent a letter since your last one, but you assumed she was just busy at Tony’s lab. A budding new romance and new job was probably a lot to take on.

Except, on your end, your new best friend Loki was at his wits end.

It was only yesterday Odin announced to his closest family and confidants that Thor was still going to be appointed to the throne soon. He was upset and you and he went riding in the forest to ease his mind. From the way he was acting afterward, you thought he had cooled down, but today… you asked where Loki was, and no one had seen him. None of his family, nor the elite warriors. You weren’t worried too much, until nightfall when he hadn’t been seen all.

It was only then that you thought you should seek the help of Heimdall. Spying on him felt wrong, but in this sense you were solely worried about his well being. But as you trekked your way down the rainbow bridge, you saw Thor and Loki fighting -- intensely.

That’s when you started to jog, your mind reeling. What could he possibly doing? What was Thor doing? When you reached them, you cried out while Loki shoved Thor back with Odin’s staff -- what was he doing with that? Why didn’t Odin have it?

“Loki? What are you doing?” you desperately asked.

“Taking what is rightfully mine!” he proclaimed, looking frenzied. “I thought I could handle it, Y/N. I can’t. I’m just as suited for the throne if not better. It’s only because I’m a Frost Giant!” he announced before glaring at Thor who stood at the ready with his hammer.

“Loki, please. We can talk about this,” you tried, inching towards him.

“There is nothing to talk about, darling,” he informed with a dark smirk before you realized that Loki had replaced himself with an illusion of himself in a split second -- you hadn’t seen the action. You glanced inside the Bifrost and saw Loki insert the staff and unleash the full power.

“What are you doing?!” Thor demanded as he ran forward. “You’ll destroy them!”

“Just doing what you once set out to do! Father will see that I can do the same thing you and he can,” Loki snarled before they fought some more. You begged them to quit, but you couldn’t physically stop them. Even the small bit of magic Loki had taught you wasn’t any use in this situation.

Eventually, Thor kicked Loki out onto the bridge, effectively knocking his brother down before hitting Mjolnir into the bridge.

“You’ll never see the human again!” Loki proclaimed to Thor.

Panic started to dance around your heart. If Thor destroyed that bridge, the Bifrost… Your way back to Earth would be lost. Your way back to your friends, to Diane and Tom, to Lucky… And most importantly -- Shannon. Loki had once said he knew ways of leaving Asgard without the Bifrost… But did you believe him? Right now, as your portal was being destroyed… did you believe this maniacal, wonderful man?

You weren’t so sure.

Certainly he wouldn’t destroy your only way back home. No… Loki, who desired a home so desperately wouldn’t rob you of yours, you knew this.

As you were about to look at him though, to gauge his rage, his heartbreak that drove him to do this, a supersonic boom overtook the three of you, throwing you into the air.

Time seemed to stop as your body fell in free fall. Until you hit the rainbow bridge hard, your face slamming into the smooth surface of it. You groaned, but you frantically looked for your friends. As you lifted your throbbing head, you saw King Odin, leaning over the side, holding onto Thor’s boot, where Thor held Odin’s staff -- Loki hanging off the end.

You stood on the edge, your heart in your throat, your stomach felt as if it weren’t there.

“I could’ve done it, Father. I could’ve done it, for you, for all of us,” Loki tried, declaring his torment, his anguish to be loved -- to be seen as an equal.

“No, Loki,” Odin responded softly, showing his disappointment.

In that moment, you saw resolve in Loki’s eyes. A sort of solemn, defeated calm fell over him as he let go.

Without thinking, you backed up on the bridge, took off into a short sprint, and swan-dove over the edge of the bridge to meet him, where you heard Thor yell your name.

What came over you, you had no idea, but a life without Loki in that instant felt like hell. You couldn’t do it. There was no question in your mind that you wanted to be with him. And the idea of him being alone, facing death alone felt... wrong.

In an instant, you met Loki. Before you could register what was happening, he wrapped his arms around you protectively as you fell toward the descending Bifrost. It’s a wonder you weren’t dead… But, according to your lineage, you were a God just as Loki, so this shouldn’t bother you.

“What’s going to happen to us?” you asked with concern while the fall seemed to last a good while.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. His perfect brows knitted together as he peered at you. The two of you had never been this close. In fact, you had never touched each other. No handshake, no hug, nothing of the sort. “Why did you jump? You were safe on the bridge.”

“I need you in my life more than you may know. I’ll go wherever you are,” you vowed and his gaze hardened...and softened somehow.

From that, he kept quiet, the two of you just staring at each other, waiting for something to hit you, rip you apart, or elsewise. You were ready for an untimely, reckless death. But a world without Loki didn’t seem possible to you.

Silently, you said your goodbyes to your loved ones. To Diane and Tom for taking you in and giving you a home when you didn’t have one. To Lucky, for being the best dog anyone could have as a pet. To Jane, a great researcher who would do great things. To Darcy, a hilarious girl that would go places. To Tony, for always knowing how to make a joke. To Thor and the entire Odin family for giving you a place to learn about your true heritage…

And to Shannon, your light in the dark. The fire in your soul. You told her you loved her, hoping it would reach through time and space and reach her heart as you clutched to Loki.

But then...you hit ground.

You assumed this was it, you were dead. But Loki and you were still together. His leather still in your fists.

You let go of him and opened your eyes, your hands landing on cool dirt, the area dark around you.

“Where are we?” you asked, hoping he’d been here before.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, scanning his surroundings. “If I had to guess, I’d say anywhere, this looks closest to Sanctuary..”

“Sanctuary? What’s that?” you asked, the two of you still on the ground. “Well... Can you get us back to Asgard?”

“I--”

“Who dares trespass Sanctuary?!” a voice hissed as it stepped out from behind a pile of boulders, a small force beside them.

The voice made you retreat in on yourself while Loki positioned himself in front of you slightly.

“Our apologies, we simply… got lost and ended up here,” he tried. “We’ll be going,” he said, about to stand but they aimed some form of a weapon at you. It appeared to be an electrolyzed spear.

“Halt! No one enters here by accident. How did you get here?” the man with grey-reptile skin asked. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t want to. Your blood felt like ice around him.

“Wait,” a different voice said. This voice was low… resonating… But it wasn’t from anyone standing around you. Finally, the man -- was he a man?--appeared. He stepped out from the same spot the other man did. “Perhaps they could be of use to us. Where are you from?” he asked.

He was large, and purple. He was almost twice Loki’s size and had an imposing presence about him.

“Asgard,” Loki stated.

“Asgard… A formidable kingdom. Who were you there?”

“I was...A king, a prince…” Loki answered, the tiniest touch of sorrow in his voice.

“A prince? A king? Hmm… Tell me, would you like to be a true king? One that doesn’t question his power? I can give you power you’ve never dreamed of,” the man promised, leaning forward slightly.

Loki looked back to you and you flashed him a concerned look with an ever so slight shake of your head.

“We appreciate your offer, but we will just be leaving. No power or staying for us. We’ll be out of your realm in quicker than you can blink,” Loki promised as he turned to help you up.

“If you don’t want to help me, then you’ll just be in the way.” The man turned and started to walk away. “Kill them,” he ordered.

“Wait!” Loki cried out. A mischievous smile danced on his face. “Perhaps I spoke too quickly. I think we can be of use to you. What exactly do you need?”

“Now you’re talking,” the large man said before turning around. “I need willing participants…” he stated, looking at you two with a gleam in his eye.

The gleam made your heart hammer in your chest as you and Loki instinctively moved closer to each other, lacing your fingers with his, before the large man gave a confident half smile at you two.

Wherever you were, wherever you just landed, it would be the end of you. You were trapped, doomed, enslaved…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 8- Adler Vs Adler

Chapter Summary: The gloves are off in court as mother and son go head to head.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talk of suicide.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. Also, those of you who do know this film well will see that I’ve changed the dates referenced in the court case, that’s because I brought the timeline of Gifted forward from 2015 (when it was filmed) to 2017 (when it was released). This was mainly to suit Fliss’ backstory of the Olympics. 2015 is too close to 2012 for me to make it work. Also Frank’s middle name is an absolute H/C too as I couldn’t find it anywhere so, sorry if this annoys any of you but, to quote @icanfeelastormbrewing- “my coffee, my fic, my rules…”

This chapter is a mix of Fliss and Frank’s POV…hope you all enjoy it. As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter Song: Stand By You- Rachel Platten

And love, if your wings are broken, borrow mine so yours can open too…’cause I’m gonna stand by you

The first bit of evidence the next morning was the findings of the Welfare Department’s investigation. It had thrown nothing out of the ordinary up. The house was clean enough, Mary was fed…but they did point out that it wouldn’t be suitable for much longer as Mary would need her own room as she grew older, something which Frank’s attorney accepted on behalf of Frank, stating to the court that Frank had already considered this. Which in fairness he had. The Welfare Department continued then, stating that Mary’s interview the previous day hadn’t thrown up anything of concern, even if there were some questionable TV viewing habits, namely Ultimate Fighting but they were satisfied that overall Mary suffering no ill effects, mentally or physically from being with Frank.

This took them just under an hour, as they were factual reports. Both Attorneys requested clarification points but there were no questions or cross examinations. As such they had concluded just after 11 am and there was then a small 10 minute break to allow a quick consultation between clients and lawyers before Evelyn was to take to the stand. As people moved around, passing papers and files to one another, Frank turned in his seat and just as he glanced round, someone left the courtroom and through the open door Fliss walked in, dressed in a smart pair of black jeans and a light blue strappy top. He flashed her a smile and she gave a small wave, settling onto a seat next to Roberta who gave her a hug. She’d missed the early session due to having to sort the horses out but she’d cleared her diary and brought in cover for the rest of the day.

Frank turned back to Greg who was watching him, eyebrow raised.

“Well that was a mighty big smile Frank…”

“Yeah, well just spotted some back up, that’s all.” Greg turned to see the woman who was now talking to Roberta and he grinned, spinning back to Frank “Let me guess, Fliss?”

Frank nodded “Yeah, I’ll introduce you later.”

Greg nodded “I look forward to it. Anyway, back to business, that opening report from the Welfare Department was good, well as good as it’s gonna get. But man, Ultimate Fighting?”

“It’s harmless…” Frank shrugged

Greg shook his head “Whatever. This next bit ain’t gonna be as easy.” “No shit…” Frank mumbled, looking at his mother as she said something to Highsmith, her attorney. “She’s going to rip me to pieces, and no doubt enjoy doing it too.” “Yep.” Greg nodded “But, keep doing what you’re doing. No outbursts, stay quiet, focussed, listen. And if she says anything that isn’t accurate, or you think of anything we can use, note it down and I’ll use it in my cross examination, ok?” Frank nodded as Judge Nicholls banged his gavel down an issued instructions for everyone to reconvene. He called Evelyn to the stand where she was sworn in and Highsmith stood up and began firing questions at her, a well-practiced dance, Frank could tell.

From the gallery Fliss watched intently. She’d been late due to having to open up at the yard but had rushed home, changed and got here as soon as she could. As such she had missed the first session but Roberta had hastily filled her in, telling her it had gone well. She shot Frank another encouraging smile, just as the judge called them back to order, and couldn’t help but notice how good that man looked in his grey suit, light grey shirt and maroon and white speckled tie. He certainly looked the part.

Evelyn took to the stand and Fliss felt herself bristling as she utterly character assassinated Frank, depicting him as nothing more than an irresponsible bum, floating around with no purpose to life, who didn’t care about Mary’s welfare, preferring to simply fly by the seat of his pants instead of giving her any decent roots or thoughts to her needs. At one point, they started to question his motivations towards taking Mary being more about punishing Evelyn that actually caring about the girl. To this Frank’s attorney objected and as the two attorneys began to argue, Fliss found her nails cutting into her palms as she clenched her fists. Roberta gently reached out and squeezed her arm and she turned to the woman next to her and gave her a tight smile.

“Frank’s attorney, Greg Cullen, well he’s good…” she whispered, “He’ll go at her when he gets his chance…you’ll see.”

The objection was overruled, the judge telling Cullen he would get his chance to challenge that statement in his cross examination, and Cullen sat down, leaning over to whisper something to Frank who nodded, his eyes not once leaving his mother. Cullen jotted something down and then sat back to allow Evelyn to finish speaking.

By the time she finished it was almost midday so they broke for lunch, Judge Nicholls instructing everyone to be back in an hour. Fliss and Roberta headed outside to wait for Frank who met them shortly after.

“Hey…” Fliss said, giving him a gentle hug. “How you holding up?”

“About as well as I can for someone whose own other just tore them to shreds under oath.” Fliss’ eyes narrowed “I hope your guy is gonna give as good as she did…” “I’ll do my best.” A voice said. Fliss spun round to be greeted by Frank’s attorney.

“Fliss, this is Greg Cullen, Greg this is Fliss Gallagher.” Frank introduced them to one another. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Greg smiled at her, shaking her hand. Fliss looked up at Frank and was surprised to find a faint flush of red on his cheeks.

“All good I hope?” she grimaced and Cullen nodded.

“Oh…very good indeed. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who’s made such an impression on him…” “Greg, piss off.” Frank said in a tired voice, before he nodded over the road to the café “Shall we grab some lunch?”

They ate together, made small talk, before Greg requested Frank join him alone for 15 minutes to go over the rest of the afternoon. Frank stood, and without even thinking about it gave Fliss a quick peck on the cheek. He winced as soon as he had, noticing that Cullen and Roberta were watching him and knowing Fliss was going to get an absolute drilling from Roberta he shot her an apologetic look as he walked away. She simply smiled through her blush and shook her head, turning to Roberta who nudged her arm.

“Ok, so…what was that?” Greg asked as they walked back over the road.

“It’s complicate.” Frank sighed “we both…we like each other but with everything that’s going on we’re…well I suppose we’re taking it slow. I’m focussing on getting through whatever it is that happens with Mary and then hopefully…what?” he trailed off as Greg was smirking at him.

“Frank Adler. Finally found a girl he likes that much he ain’t simply trying to get her into bed…”

Frank rolled his eyes and pointed to the courtroom “How about you concentrate on what’s gonna go on in there instead of what is or isn’t going on in my bedroom?”

Greg gave out a chuckle and patted his friend on the shoulder as they made their way in and headed into the side room they had reserved.

****

“Mrs. Adler, in your earlier testimony here today… you painted a pretty dim picture of your own son don’t you think?” Cullen asked, tapping his pen on his note pad. Frank remained stony faced, watching his mother.

“I’m under oath, I take no pleasure in it.” she said with a glance at Frank before she looked down, almost convincingly.

Frank just about managed to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“So, your son is a failure in life, your daughter took her life…you know, you’re oh for two.”

Fliss winced and glanced at Roberta as Highsmith said “Objection” in an almost bored voice

“Withdrawn.” Cullen said, his voice taking on an amused edge but as Fliss watched Evelyn simply eyed him, completely un-phased.

“If I go one for three, I’m in the Hall of Fame.” she shot back.

“You know baseball.” Cullen said, pushing his chair back “Fenway Park.”

At that something flickered in Evelyn’s eye as she glanced at Frank. Fliss followed her gaze and watched, just able to see the side of Frank’s face. His eyes locked onto her, his expression never faltering.

“You know, I’d like to go there sometime.” Cullen said standing up, pushing his glasses up onto his head as Evelyn turned back to him “How often in a year did you take Diane to the baseball game?”

“Diane wasn’t interested in sports.” Evelyn replied

“She never wanted to go to a game? Ever?”

“I don’t recall her ever asking.”

Cullen moved forwards a step and Fliss saw Frank’s eyes flick to him as he continued to question his mother.

“Just out of curiosity, Fenway, that’s a tough ticket. Where do you get yours?”

“My husband has season tickets.”

“And how long has he had them?” Cullen enquired

“30 years. But I’ve only been married to him for 20.” Evelyn informed him.

“And Diane never went to one game?”

Evelyn didn’t reply, simply raised her eyebrows slightly as if she was failing to see the point. Fliss’ eyes once again flicked to Frank who still hadn’t moved an inch.

“What colour was the dress Diane wore to prom?” Cullen changed his line of questions.

“Diane didn’t attend the prom, because she didn’t attend the high school.” Evelyn replied calmly

“No prom.” Cullen mused before he asked suddenly “What sports did she play?”

“As I told you earlier, she wasn’t interested in sports.”

“She’s calm…” Roberta whispered to Fliss as Cullen continued to question Evelyn about Diane’s lack of interaction with other children her age

“Too calm…” Fliss said “But I can see what he’s doing, trying to paint a picture of how she isolated Diane to imply that she’d do the same to Mary. You’re right, he is good…”

As they tuned back into the examination again, Cullen took a deep breath and glanced to his left

“Mrs. Adler, he said, looking back at her who’s Paul Riva?”

At that Evelyn glanced at Frank, her calm mask slipped ever so slightly but still Frank didn’t move. Fliss could see his expression now carried a faint, and every so sad, smile.

Evelyn gave a silent huff before she looked back at Cullen “He was a boy from the neighbourhood.”

Her tone was clipped and Fliss noticed the judge sit forward slightly at her change in tone, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched her curiously

“Oh, come on. He was much more than just a boy from the neighbourhood. Paul was Diane’s first love. Wasn’t he?” Cullen asked.

Fliss and Roberta exchanged a glance.

“I wouldn’t characterize it that way, no.” Evelyn shook her head.

“And how would Diane characterize it?”

“Diane was 17 years old at the time. She didn’t know anything about love.”

At that Fliss caught the first movement Frank had made as he took a deep breath and looked to his left before turning back, his shoulders moving slightly in frustration as he shook his head slightly, his eyes locking back onto his mother who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

“Mrs. Adler… in January 2000 didn’t Diane and young Mr. Riva run away together?” Cullen looked at her.

“He coerced her” Evelyn corrected with the air of someone picking her words carefully.

“And where did they go?”

“Vermont.”

“And you called the police, didn’t you?” Cullen stated rather than asked.

“Yes.”

“Because he kidnapped her?”

“Yes”

“And where did the police find young Mr. Riva and Diane?” Cullen looked at Evelyn

“I told you, Vermont.” Evelyn looked at Cullen, her voice suddenly taking on an edge which made Fliss lean forward slightly.

“Stowe, Vermont. Wasn’t it? A resort town.” Cullen said, looking round the court room as Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. “Stowe Mountain. He took her skiing. You see, kidnappers don’t usually take their victims skiing.” Cullen paused from his explanation, when he spoke again his voice was calm, and slow, stressing the point perfectly “But this is what Paul did because he and Diane were in love.”

“No” Evelyn said firmly

“And when they returned, you pressed kidnapping charges.” Cullen’s voice rose in volume and speed as he spoke “You filed a lawsuit against his parents…until Paul stopped calling Diane. Didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And Diane never heard of or saw Paul Riva again. Did she?” Cullen’s tone was harsh, accusatory as he stared at Evelyn.

“Poor girl…” Roberta mumbled besides her and Fliss shook her head, in utter shock at how a mother could be so damned cruel and out of touch with her own daughter. It made her feel a pang of sympathy for Mary’s mother despite never having known her. Fliss couldn’t imagine what she would do without either of her parents being as supportive as they were.

Evelyn must have answered as by the time Fliss turned her attention fully to what she was saying, Cullen had asked another question.

“And how did she take it?”

“She was upset for a while. She lost focus.”

“She lost focus” Cullen said, turning back to the desk and picking up a small file “Mrs. Adler,” he turned back, file in hand “…in March of 2001 didn’t Diane Adler attempt to take her own life?”

“This episode was minor. It was nothing.” Evelyn said, her tone harsh.

“Nothing?” Fliss drew in a breath, shaking her head. For a moment she almost lost herself in another memory, of one rainy afternoon in Boston in October 2015…but she took a deep breath and focussed on where she was, as Cullen flashed the file at Evelyn.

“I have the hospital report in my hand.” he informed her

“It was nothing.” Evelyn said again, and now Fliss could see she was rattled. “Diane was not like regular people. She was extraordinary. And extraordinary people come with singular issues and needs.”

Fliss watched as Evelyn leant forward, her face creased in anger as hissed “You have no idea of the capability she possessed. One in a billion. And you would say fine, let’s throw that away, so the boy who cuts our yard can make sexual conquest? Well maybe before you make that decision, you stand in my shoes .I had responsibilities, which went beyond the mother-daughter relationship.”

She took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice louder this time “The greatest discoveries, which have proved life on this planet have come from minds rarer than radium. Without them, we’d still be crawling in mud. And for your information, counsellor, a year after this incident with this boy Diane thanked me for my intervention. She realized she’d made a mistake and she thanked me. You see, Diane understood. She’s was accountable for the gift she’d been given. And she didn’t shy from it.”

Every inch of Evelyn’s face was contorted with a mixture of pain and anger, and she radiated absolute fury across the courtroom as her rant built to its climax

“And I think, if she were here today, Mr. Attorney, she would refute your baseless insinuations, that she would give up her brilliant future and take her own life just because mummy didn’t get her a little red wagon

There was a pause as she took a breath and sat back.

“No more questions.” Cullen said simply, turning back to his seat.

Fliss watched Frank who shifted, rubbing his chin with his left hand, his fingers curling round his jaw in an L shape as he stared at this mother.

***** When Mary returned home on the bus, Frank did his best to remain positive and keep his broodings to himself, and was thankful when Fliss suggested they head out for dinner. The four of them headed to the same restaurant he had met his mother at not long before. He ate, not really tasting his food, or listening as Fliss and Roberta chatted away. Instead his attention was completely on Mary who was stood with one of the waitresses at another table, where Mary was pouring sand out of one of the bottles that was used to keep the tablecloths from blowing away. The thought that she could be without such simple pleasure of looking through sand for shells, and lost to a world pressure and solitude like Diane had been killed him.

“Hey…” he felt someone squeeze his hand at the same time Mary held up a shell and showed it to him. He took a deep breath and tried to rearrange his face into a smile as his fingers tightened around Fliss’s.

“You know until I met you I thought sitting on steps drinking beer was something only red necked hillbillies did.” Fliss teased him when they were alone later that evening, Mary asleep inside the apartment as they sat outside the kitchen door, shoulder to shoulder along the top rung.

“Well, according to my mother that’s what I am.” he scoffed.

“And according to me your mother is a callous, cold hearted bitch.” Fliss said, with such venom it made Frank look at her. She took a deep breath, her voice softening “How can anyone dismiss a suicide attempt as nothing.”

Frank looked away, taking a pull from his beer. They sat in silence for a moment before Fliss broke it.

“You know back in 2015, about 18 months after we’d gotten married…I almost did it you know? Killed myself.”

Frank’s head turned to face her. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she remained focussed on a spot in the distance as she looked straight ahead. “My life was out of my control, and it was the only way I could think of getting some of that control back. So I took a shit load of buproprion and washed it down with half a litre of vodka.”

“Shit, Lissy I…” She waved his sympathy off and continued “After that I was offered all this help and support and…” she snorted bitterly “I still went back to him. He convinced everyone, including me that the issue was the fact that I was still brooding over my career being cut so short…and then told me that having a kid would fix the issue. In reality there was no issue to fix. I wasn’t depressed as such, I was abused. And that was simply another way of him taking control”

After a moment she turned to look at him, “And I’m not saying your mother abused Diane, not as such but she isolated her for her own, selfish reasons…no matter how she tries to dress them up or convince herself that it was for Diane’s own good. That first suicide attempt your sister would have made a normal, loving parent sit up and pay attention to what was going on. I know it did mine, as Bill never trusted John’s explanation, not one word.” “I should have done more too.” Frank said, looking down “But I was so busy, wrapped up in my finals and…”

“Frank, you were what? 20 and preparing for finals at Harvard.” Fliss frowned “Diane wasn’t your responsibility, you’re not her parent.”

“No but when Dad died, I promised I’d take care of her, always be there for her. I should have done more, and I should have known…when she turned up that day…”

“Frankie…” Fliss cut him off, her hand taking his “Take it from me, my mum and dad and brother went through all of this in their head. Did Diane give you any warnings at all because I know I didn’t? Look at the lies and the world of fantasy I let John build up round me and detract from what was going on. I told nobody I was gonna do it Frank. And I told no body why I did it either.”

Frank sniffed and wiped at his nose slightly with his free hand.

“So you can either carry on beating yourself up over something that isn’t your fault or you can concentrate on getting the best outcome here for Mary.”

He reached for his beer which was on the step below him between his legs and nodded. She was right, he knew she was, but there would always be that part of him that wondered if he could have done more, it he should have done more.

“Are you planning on coming tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Fliss.

“Yeah, Joanne is covering again.”

“I don’t want to put you out…” he began but she shook her head.

“It’s sorted.” Fliss smiled. “She wants the week of Thanksgiving off so she’s racking up the favours.”

“Well, from a selfish reason I’m glad.” he said, flexing his fingers against hers, looking down at where they were entwined.

“I’m not missing your testimony, if only for the sole reason of discovering what your full name is.” she teased. Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Francis Preston Adler, nice to meet you.” he tipped his bottle in her direction. “Preston?” She snorted “Get out of town! There’s a place in England called Preston, it’s like 30 miles away from my home!”

Frank smiled, before he sighed.

“Last day tomorrow isn’t it?” Fliss looked at him as he stared straight ahead.

He let out a breath “Yeah, well last day of evidence…then we have to wait for however long it takes him to read all the reports and make a ruling.”

“Well then, I suggest you get some sleep, or as much as you can.” she said, and with that she released his hand and stood up. Frank did the same and he smiled as she leaned up and he ducked his head so she could kiss his cheek. “Oh, and FYI I got an absolute interrogation off Roberta before when you did that. Felt like it was me in the dock, not Evelyn.” For the first time all evening Frank laughed.

******

The gloomy, rainy morning matched Frank’s mood perfectly.

He sat in the dock dressed in his suit this time paired with a light green shirt and a dark blue and silver tie, feeling as out of place as anyone could. Cullen went through the questions he had coached Frank on, questions designed not to paint him as a saint but as a normal person, doing the best he could for his niece in line with his sister’s wishes. Frank answered them honestly. Was he perfect? No. Had he done things correctly? No. Did he wish he had spotted Diane was struggling? Yes. Did he love Mary and want the best for her? Yes.

The questions continued along those lines until they broke for lunch. And then came the cross examination, and Frank knew he was in for a beating.

“Mr. Adler where are you currently employed?” Highsmith asked sitting on the desk to the left of Evelyn.

“I repair boats.” Frank answered clearly

“Oh, really? At which marina?”

“I don’t work at a marina. I freelance.”

“So, safe to say, no health insurance.”

“No.” Frank shook his head

“About a week before your sister took her life what were you doing for a living then?”

“I was a teacher.” Frank replied.

“You’re being modest, aren’t you?” Highsmith said, standing up and walking towards the dock “You were a professor at Boston University Isn’t that right?

“Yes, well, assistant professor.”

“And what’d you teach?”

“Philosophy.” Frank said, looking at him

“Truth and logic. That sort of thing” Highsmith gestured with his hands and Frank simply smile as he continued “Your attorney said that the primary reason that you took Mary is because it was what your sister would’ve wanted you to do. Is that a truth?”

“Yes.” Frank implored

“So Diane had visited Pinellas County before?”

“No” frank said with almost an air of amusement on his face as he looked at his mother for a second before he looked down and joined his hands in front of him in his lap.

“She indicated she wanted her daughter rooted and moved here?

Frank shook his head, closing his eyes “No”

“No.” Highsmith repeated “So you decided to bring Mary here, didn’t you?”

Frank licked his lips and drew in a deep breath as he simply stared as his mother. He was pleased so see her shift in her seat

“Did Diane had a problem with your health plan at Boston University?” Highsmith pressed.

Frank wanted to laugh. The guy was doing exactly what Greg had warned him he would do, attack his lack of healthcare, insinuate he wasn’t able or fit to provide for Mary. When he spoke his voice was calm, and he fought to keep his face as amicable as possible.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Do you think she would want her daughter to have access to healthcare?”

Dumbass question

“Of course.” Frank nodded.

“So what do you do, when little Mary gets sick? You repair a doctor’s boat?”

Frank scoffed a laugh as Cullen objected.

“Sustained.” Judge Nicholls shot Highsmith a look and Frank stole a glance at Fliss. If the situation wasn’t so serious he would have laughed at the identical look she wore to Roberta, both glaring at Highsmith like they wanted to kill him. Which, to be fair, the probably did want…

The questions continued. He was asked why he turned down the scholarship at the Oaks in favour of learning at a first grade level, a level way below that she was capable of. The rain continued to drive down as did Highsmith’s questions, as they were punctuated every so often by a low rumble of thunder from the outside storm.

“Prior to Mrs. Adler giving her one. Did Mary have a computer?”

“She used mine.”

“Mr. Adler, does Diane’s daughter have her own bedroom?”

“No.”

“Does she sleep in a bed that you bought in a second hand shop?”

“Yes” Frank looked ahead, focussing on keeping calm as Highsmith walked towards the dock, gesturing now with his hands, his tone winding up

“So, the truth is, Mr. Adler that you didn’t come down here because your sister wanted it to and you certainly didn’t come here because it was good for Mary.”

Frank swallowed slightly and shifted a little, avoiding looking at the man as he tapped his hand on the side of the dock.

“No, it was personal. Diane was a star. You weren’t. Diane got the attention. You didn’t.”

Frank scoffed silently, oh please, and turned to look in the opposite direction.

“..and over the years You got angry. And here comes Mary. What a great way to get even.

At that he audibly sighed. He had known this was coming, that his mother’s attorney would try and paint him as petty and vindictive but it still hurt to hear it. Hurt that his own mother would have someone attack him in such a way. He’d defend Mary to the hilt someone was doing this to her…

“You’ve uprooted that little girl and brought her here for 1 reason only. To do harm to your mother. You blamed her for your sister.”

“No, I don't” Frank broke his silence.

“And Mary to you is just a pawn in all this.”

And that did it, Mary wasn’t a pawn. She was a little girl, a little girl who he was doing is best by.

“Diane wanted Mary… to be a kid” Frank’s voice betrayed his desperation and emotion, and he knew that…but now he was past caring, this was the truth, it was how he felt, and he was nothing if not honest. He locked eyes with his mother as he spoke, driving his words home “.She wanted her to have a life. She wanted her to have friends and to play…”

At that his mother looked away, her eyes glistening but Frank kept his on hers as she turned back to him, his final words were almost whispered

“…and to be happy.”

“You realize the consequences of boredom for a gifted child, Mr. Adler? They become resentful and sullen.”

“Mary’s not an angry kid.” Frank said, his voice calm once more.

“Really? Did she not attack a child on the school bus?”

Shit.

“A 12 year old tripped a 7 year old and she came to his defense.” Frank said, shrugging slightly

“Did she break the boy’s nose?”

“Yes.” Frank said, a little louder as he nodded.

“On October 16th last year, were you arrested for assault?”

“Oh, my God.” Frank groaned, and he looked down before he glanced back up, momentarily locked eyes with Fliss who he noticed had taken a deep breath. He looked back down, shaking his head

“You have to answer the question Mr. Adler.” Judge Nicholls reminded him

Frank swallowed and focussed on a spot on the varnished surface of the wood in font of him, just by the microphone. “A drunk idiot attacked me and I defended myself. What does that have to do…”

“Did you spend the night in jail?” Highsmith cut him off.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded.

“You are in way over your head here. You’re depriving that girl…”

Frank stayed still, shaking his head and glaring at his mother, all the while Highsmith continued ranting on at him

“…you’re gambling with her future and now you being presented with an opportunity to do right by her.”

“Does council have a question for my client?” Cullen said loudly

“Take the high road, Mr. Adler before she’s rapidly damaged.”

“Does council have a question for my client or not?” Cullen said, standing up.

“Yes, sir. I do have a question.” Highsmith said “Tell us. Is your continued guardianship really in the best interest of this little girl?

“You do your best, Frank. And that’s all any of us can do…” Fliss’s voice rattled in his head, and he took a deep breath. No he wasn’t perfect. Yes, Evelyn could provide for her better than he could but could she love Mary like he did. No, no she couldn’t

He stared at his mother, as he lifted his chine and spoke loudly and clearly.

“Yes.Yes, it is.”

“I have no further questions.” Highsmith spoke.

Frank scratched at his head and left the dock. Following the summing up, they were all dismissed. Frank shook Greg’s hand who told him he would be in touch Frank left the courtroom with Roberta, Fliss nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath, realising she was probably going to run a mile after hearing about the assault. That wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. However, to his amazement and joy she was waiting for him by his truck. Roberta nodded to him and made an excuse to nip over the road to the store for a water leaving them to talk alone.

“Thought you’d gone?” he said gently.

“No I had to take a call from Joanne about a lesson… why would I leave without saying goodbye?” she frowned

“The assault”

Fliss sighed “Frank, I admit it was a shock to hear but…”

“At least let me explain.” he shrugged.

“There’s really no need…we all do dumb shit right?”

“He was a drunk idiot.” Frank cut her off “I was actually out with a friend, Jacob and his fiancée, Lisa, that night. Jake had gone to the bathroom and this guy bumped into us and sent Lisa flying into the table, knocking a load of glasses over. When I told him to be careful he took a swing at me only he missed and, well I didn’t…”

“You’re a regular knight in shining armour Sailor.” she smiled before she looked at him softly. “I know that was hard today. I was so angry and the things he was saying to you but…it’s done now. Try not to think on it because you can’t change the outcome. Whatever it is, you did your best.”

“You know I remembered you saying that to me.” he smiled, “Right as he was telling me what a lousy life I give Mary.” “It’s not lousy.” Fliss shook her head. “She’s loved Frank. And she’s happy.”

He smiled again as she took a deep breath.

“Look, I have to go, I have a lesson in an hour now this rain has let up, but…what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working.” he said, chuckling as she raised her eyebrow “ Yeah I know, second Friday night in a row but…well I’m behind thanks to this case and whilst Roberta has Mary I can get a good few hours in and then get my head down before she comes back at midday”

“How about I keep you company?” she asked, “Only if that’s ok?”

Frank smiled “As long as you don’t distract me too much.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**** Turns out Fliss wasn’t the distraction, Cullen was. He rocked up at the garage Frank was working at just as he was explaining to Fliss the different components of the oil filter he was working on, nudging her as she gave a loud, exaggerated yawn. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the flash in her eyes as she looked him quickly up and down, taking in his dirty jeans, hands covered in oil and his long sleeved thin blue sweater which he knew fit him pretty well. Part of the reason he had worn it.

“Hey…” Cullen said.

“Hey.” Frank frowned “What’s…” “I wanted to do this in person.” Greg said.

“I’ll er, give you a moment.” Fliss said. She went to leave but Frank caught her elbow gently.

“No, stay, please…” he said. She looked at him for a second and nodded.

Cullen explained how Highsmith had called him first thing that morning saying that they wanted to cut a deal which would see Mary in a fostering situation. Frank dismissed the notion straight up and Cullen continued to try and win him round, informing him that they could cherry pick and that it would be mutually approved and he’d already found a family in Tampa, which was what he had been working on all day. He continued to explain how Mary would attend the Oaks and Evelyn would get visiting rights and that when Mary was 12 she could go back into court and decide where, and with who, she wanted to live.

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” Frank cut his friend off, glaring at him “Why are you bringing me this deal?

“Other than I’m required to by law?” Greg looked back at him, and then suddenly Frank understood.

“You like this deal?” he asked

“I love this deal.” Greg noded.

“They think they’re gonna lose.” Frank leaned on the work-desk in front of him, looking at Cullen.

“Yeah. They do.”

“You think we’re gonna lose.”

“Yes.” Greg replied honestly. “I do, Frank.”

Frank looked down, swallowing before he turned to his friend.

“I gotta go put my kids to bed. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. But, if we leave this up to the judge…Nicholls, he’s old school, Frank. Does he like your mother? No. Does he like her income? Does he like her health plan? Does he like her home? You better believe it.”

Frank looked down again, shaking his head, unable to do anything else.

“I’ve been in his courtroom. A hundred times. And if it’s a coin toss…Look at me.”

Frank turned to Greg, his arms still leaning on the top, muscles straining as he grasped at a wrench in front of him in frustration, something to squeeze.

“If it’s a coin toss, that old boy is going to side with the money.” Greg said gently “So, do me a favour, Frank. Just meet the family. See how it feels. It’s all I ask.” with that he took a deep breath. “I gotta go…see you later. Goodnight Fliss.”

“Night…” she said to him, watching him leave.

There was a pause before Frank picked up the wrench in his hand and threw it hard against the wall at the opposite side of the garage, before he stood up tall and turned to Fliss who was watching him, her face contorted in sympathy and sadness.

“I don’t know what to do.” he looked at her, and every single emotion he had been holding back cascaded over him in a wave and he felt utterly and hopelessly overwhelmed. He couldn’t stop the tears brimming in his eyes and he bowed his head, once more leaning on the desk. He felt a warm pair of hands gently on his arm, nudging him to turn slightly and he did so to look at Fliss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a gently hug. He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder, his tears falling gently onto her soft skin as she smoothed a hand through his hair, gently soothing him.

“Sorry…” he said after a moment pulling back.

“Hey…” she said, ducking slightly, her hands now on his face as she wiped his tears with her thumbs, her own now filling her eyes. “Don’t ever apologise to me for being upset, Frankie. I told you, I was here for the road trip remember? However bumpy the ride. I’m not going anywhere Sailor.”

He let out a soft, watery laugh as he dropped his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as hook a deep breath, composing himself.

“You now no ones called me Frankie since I was a little kid” he smiled.

“Well it suits you.” she smiled, pulling away slightly. “You good?” He nodded, moving back out of her arms. “Do you think I should go?” he asked “Meet this family?”

“Frank…”she said gently “I can’t answer that.” “What would you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.” she shook her head. “I suppose there’s no harm in meeting them but, you have to be sure this is what is right for Mary. But I do know one thing, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there all the way.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He gently took her hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Thankyou.”

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @icanfeelastormbrewing @pagesoflauren

#frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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lia-jones · 4 years

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Growing Stronger - Chapter One - Andrea’s Breakup Recovery Guide

Author’s note: Yay, part two! Posting chapters as fast as I can, because stuff is coming and you don’t want to miss (I hope so!).

In pretty much every magazine for women or teenagers, one is destined to come across something along the subject of breakups and how to recover from them. A paraphernalia of advice on what you should do, like reinvent yourself, cut communication, get hammered. I used to laugh when I read such articles, I felt so above it. Well, it turns out, I wasn’t. I was just never so broken-hearted before.

Breaking up with Victor was one of the hardest things I had done in my life, to be honest. The pain I felt could easily compare with the pain of being a victim of domestic abuse, if not worse. By the time things ended with Daniel, I wasn’t in love with him. It was a huge relief to get rid of him. But I was still very much in love with Victor. And losing him was like losing a lung, it made it so much harder to breathe.

I looked at my phone countless times, hoping he would text, or wanting to call him. I imagined myself meeting him by accident on the street, or the supermarket, the window for reconciliation opening, us together again, and hopefully, happily ever after. I ran all these scenarios in my mind, painfully remembering how good it felt to have his hands on my skin, his lips, his warmth. I laughed again at all the jokes he told me, because Victor could look cold and mechanic, but he was actually very witty and funny when he felt more at ease. And I recalled every single line of our fight, and always came to the same conclusion: our relationship was the perfect storm, and we were better apart than together.

We didn’t break up for no reason, and even though I was obviously wearing breakup rose-colored glasses, the truth was painstakingly evident. We had problems. Lots of them. Thanks to his fame I would never have a private life again, and despite our best efforts to keep the media quiet, God only knew when they would remember to revisit my abuse, or interview someone in my family, and how that would affect my work. And despite his apparent wish in wanting me in his life, I had to conclude I never was truly in his life. He hid things from me. Important things. There were years of Victor I did not know, and he was not willing to share. Huge red flag. Apart from that, I didn’t seem to be a good fit in his life either. His father disapproved of our relationship and was very clear about it. Victor’s relationship with his father wasn’t very good to begin with, sure, and it seemed that nothing that Victor ever did was good enough for his father, but still… His father was his family. People we would have to have some connection to over the years, and starting on a sour note was very dangerous, and a prelude for more problems.

And then there was another seldomly discussed but extremely painful reason: I was infertile. I was able to overcome every single thing Daniel had done to me but this. And this was huge. Should Victor be with me, I would be depriving him of something that could mean a lot to him. Even if he accepted it at first, he would eventually want a child of his own, with his features, his DNA… and he wouldn’t be able to do it with me. He wouldn’t leave me for that, he was a “thick and thin” kind of guy, so he would slowly start to resent me instead. We would end up an unhappy bitter couple. I didn’t want to do that to myself, but most of all, Victor did not deserve it. I didn’t want to be the one making him go through so much hardship.

So I decided to keep looking at my phone, put my breakup in my It’s for the best mental drawer, and focus on learning to live without him. I must confess, if my endless nights crying while gulping Ben&Jerry’s were any indicator, I didn’t start my healing process very well. I was still sad and starting to gain some weight, and none of that was helpful. So, remembering the articles I used to read about breakups, and that concluding steps like getting myself hammered and writing bitter letters were as helpful to me as crying and ice cream, I decided to create a list of my own.

Working hard was always a good distraction, so I decided I would start with that. The less time I had left to think about Victor, the better, so I took as much work as I could, leaving only a few hours out for sleep and socializing. I restarted my Krav Maga lessons and actually added some more exercise to burn the ice cream calories off. Levi immediately offered himself to be my exercise buddy, so I wouldn’t even have the time to think about Victor when I ran, which would also be a very good thing.

Those magazine articles always spoke of some kind of reinvention, and although I didn’t want to be drastic, I could use a haircut. I cut my curls in a shoulder-length angled bob, and did some blond ombre highlights to compliment my hair color. I decided to get some new clothes as well. Since my position at the university didn’t require business clothes, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to add some casual clothes, like jeans and more flowy tops. Maybe those cute sneakers I saw at that shop that day.

Bottling up my emotions was not a good idea, so I figured I should find some kind of outlet for them. Writing bitter letters was not a viable option, and Victor did not deserve them, so I settled for music instead. I missed my piano, and always thought about buying one if I truly settled in Loveland. Now I could afford it, I was working at the University and making good money. After thoughtful consideration and what I considered a true real-life Tetris experience, I finally managed to rearrange my furniture and make space for a digital piano. I would express my feelings through playing, maybe write a few songs of my own.

Needless to say, none of my friends or family took the news of the breakup very well, although I never shared the details of it with anyone. My mom, of course, tried to find out more and offer me some unwarranted therapy, but just ended up saying that, despite thinking I had made a big mistake, she wished me well and only wanted me to be happy. My father, my brother and Cristina were disappointed too. Apparently, Victor had made a bigger impression than I thought.

I remained close to Diane and Goldman, although I couldn’t discuss the breakup with them either. Diane was adamant on us meeting at least once a week for lunch, and clearly was not accepting the breakup, always hinting we would end up together again. I tried my best to steer clear off the topic, talking about her and Goldman instead, or something work-related. Surprisingly, in one of those mandatory outings, she seemed to have no intention to mention Victor.

“You are a terrible friend, you know.” Diane declared, sipping on her orange juice.

“I would ask why, but I’m pretty sure you are going to tell me.” I teased her.

“Well, I’ve been waving my hand like crazy for the last 30 minutes and you didn’t even notice what I have on my finger!” She almost yelled, excited. “I mean, it’s no use wearing an engagement ring if it doesn’t make your friends jealous!”

Yup. There it was. A lovely golden band with a considerably sized diamond in it. I gasped.

“Goldman proposed?!?!? When?”

“Last weekend.” She smiled, dreamily. “He took us to the restaurant we went to on our very first date, that Italian cute one? He hid the ring in the tiramisu.”

“That sounds really dangerous.” I laughed. “One of you would’ve had a surprise that night. Maybe a trip to the hospital.”

“Oh, just say it, you’re jealous.” She gave me a sly smile. “All you have to do is to stop that breakup nonsense, so we can pick wedding dresses together!”

“Whoa, Bridezilla! Hold your horses!” I laughed, starting to get a bit tense. “Even if Victor and I were together, which you know we are not, there would be no guarantee of him popping the question any time soon.”

“I feel so sad to hear that.” Diane almost pouted. “Was the breakup that bad? No going back? At all? You never say anything!”

“First of all, your fiancé works with my ex, so… And besides, how rude would it be of me to go around trashing my ex after breaking up with him? Victor doesn’t deserve it, he is a great guy. It’s not right to just go out disclosing facts about our intimacy because I was part of it.”

“Most girls would just badmouth the ex.” Diane frowned.

“Most girls didn’t date Victor Lee.” I shrugged.

“The upside is, if you are adamant in protecting him, it may be salvageable after all. He’s been really moody these days.” Diane continued to push the issue, sounding worried. I quickly brushed it off.

“When is he not?” I shrugged. “It’s Victor.”

“When he was with you.” Diane smiled. “Andrea, he’s hurting. He’s been sad, and reclusive, burying himself in work.”

It didn’t surprise me to know I wasn’t the only one using work as a distraction.

“Breakups are hard, Diane. He’s not the only one hurting. I won’t say much, but I will give you this. It was for the best, for both of us. It hurts now, but we will move on. I moved on from Daniel, he moved on from Mia. We will move on from each other.”

“I witnessed the whole Mia situation. Andrea, he wasn’t like this. Not like this.”

“It’s Victor. He’ll bounce back soon enough.” Or so I hoped. I felt my heart tighten with emotions I couldn’t or wouldn’t dare to identify.

That night, I resumed the staring contest with my phone, thinking about Victor. I missed his voice. I was worried about him. Instead of doing the absolute error of calling my ex, I did something even worse, I went through the pictures. I found one of my favorites, one of Victor sleeping. There was something sweet in his expression when he slept, there were none of the usual barriers he set in place. There was only Victor, and the sweetness he contained, that I was so honored to witness. He opened himself to me, let me look into his light, let me touch it and bask in it, and trusted me with this secret. And I let him down.

No matter how things ended, no matter how many reasons I could come up with to hate him, I loved him. I didn’t blame him for this breakup, I took full responsibility on that. Yes, he was hiding things from me, and yes, he did say some very hurtful things, but I was the one that hurt him the most. I slapped him and I left him. In his words, I abandoned him.

And even though I had my reasons, I still felt like a total bitch for breaking his heart like that. No amount of advice on how to recover from a breakup would help me with that.

#Growing Pains - Series #growingstronger #victor x oc #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #love and producer #mister love queens choice

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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Terror in the Midnight Sun

Let’s see… aliens? Check. Sasquatch? Check. Weird Scandinavian production trying to look like Hollywood? Check! Bring on Terror in the Midnight Sun.

A glowing orb comes in for a landing in the arctic. Word of this spreads quickly, and soon an expedition is dispatched to retrieve the unusual object. One of the scientists on the trip is a Dr. Wilson, who is excited not just by the meteor but by the opportunity to visit his niece Diana, who is in the area training to be an Olympic figure skater. Upon arrival, the scientists learn that some monster is going around killing people and reindeer, leaving gigantic footprints, and carrying off pretty girls. When they follow its trail, they learn that what landed on the glacier is no meteor – it’s a spaceship, and the aliens’ pet Yeti has kidnapped Diana!

Yeah, that’s the movie all right.

Like a number of MST3K features, including The Touch of Satan and Blood Waters of Dr. Z, Terror in the Midnight Sun has several titles. In its homeland of Sweden it is called Rymdinvasion i Lappland (Space Invasion in Lappland), while in English-speaking parts it is frequently Invasion of the Animal People. Of these titles, not one of them is accurate. There is only one ‘animal person’ in the movie, and the single ship and crew really aren’t enough to constitute an ‘invasion’. As for Terror in the Midnight Sun, that one may sound good, but there’s no midnight sun in the movie. Rather, characters keep talking about ‘it’ll be dark soon’ and ‘we won’t make it by nightfall’. Points for poetics, Title Guy, but none for relevance.

As well as alternative titles, there’s a whole alternative version of this movie available, produced by Jerry Warren of Wild Wild World of Batwoman fame. It reportedly begins with John Carradine telling us why science is good, followed by a prologue in which Diana is abducted and then released by the aliens prior to the events of the original film. I did not watch that version. The one I did see was plenty weird enough.

Another random thing we have in common with multiple MST3K movies is the preponderance of padding. Lost Continent was mostly Rock Climbing and Racket Girls contained far too much wrestling. For Terror in the Midnight Sun, it’s skiing. Diana and hunky geologist Eric Engstrom spend a day on the slopes to show us that they’re falling in love. Later, the couple attempt to ski back to civilization to get help, after the yeti destroys the party’s small airplane. The nomadic reindeer-herders who live in the area ski everywhere, and we have to watch even when they’re not going anyplace plot-relevant. And I sure never thought I’d see a movie with a torches-and-pitchforks mob chasing a monster on skis yet here we are.

Besides the skiing, Terror in the Midnight Sun also lingers on things like planes flying, couples dancing, and yetis blundering about. There’s a gratuitous song sung by a gratuitous lounge singer. People wander around in a blizzard in ways unpleasantly reminiscent of Hercules wandering around in a sandstorm. All of these last just slightly longer than they should, and I imagine Joel and the ‘bots having a very hard time with them.

For an old, cheap, black-and-white movie, the photography is surprisingly good. We can always tell what’s going on and tell the characters apart, although don’t ask me to remember anyone’s name besides Dr. Wilson, Diane, and Eric. Cinematography is just good enough to make you think that filming an arctic landscape in monochrome has untapped artistic potential – but not good enough to realize that. Instead, I found myself noticing that the characters’ surroundings are not nearly as bleak as the miniature shots and the dialogue are probably trying to suggest. There seem to be plenty of trees and rocks and cabins around, while we’re evidently supposed to believe they’re miles out on the tundra.

Again like many MST3K subjects, Terror in the Midnight Sun has a pretty girl in it for no better reason than that movies are supposed to have pretty girls. Diana is otherwise entirely useless. She invites herself along on her uncle’s expedition for no reason at all besides possibly that she’s bored, and she brings nothing to the party whatsoever. The movie bothers to establish her as a skilled skater and skier and then never makes use of either talent – when she and Eric try to ski to the nearest settlement for help, she runs into the only tree for miles around and sprains her knee, so he has to leave her behind in a rescue cabin to be kidnapped by the Yeti.

I think this injury is what’s supposed to prevent Diana from escaping the Yeti… only it doesn’t keep her from running around for hours in the snow.

She’s also here to fall in love with Eric, because the reason movies need pretty girls, besides the audience’s opportunity to ogle, is so that the heroic male lead can get to touch some titties as his reward for saving the day. The whole arc with the two of them is really weird. They have a bit of a meet cute when Diana calls out “hello, darling!” to her uncle (who does that?) and Eric thinks she’s talking to him. Dr. Wilson warns Diana that Eric is known as a heartbreaker who can’t stick to one woman, but this doesn’t seem to discourage her. The lovebirds then have their skiing day, when Eric knocks Diana over and she retaliates by stealing his skis and leaving him to walk all the way back to the lodge! He arrives tired, wet, and angry, and she asks him what took him so long… but twenty minutes later he still wants to dance with her. What the hell do these two see in each other?

When she sees the Yeti, Diana screams and faints. It carries her off back to the crater where its extraterrestrial masters – pale coneheads in long robes – are waiting. She wakes up and sees them, and screams and faints again. Her entire purpose in the plot is to give the movie an excuse to show us the aliens, and the whole ‘alien’ thing itself is ultimately quite useless. In fact, the movie would probably have made more sense if the Yeti had been an Earthly monster. At the climax, she remains an inanimate object in the Yeti’s arms.

By now we’re pretty convinced the creature isn’t going to hurt her on purpose, but the movie never says what it plans to do with her instead. In the Creature from the Black Lagoon movies, the monster’s interest in the women was overtly sexual. In Giant of the Twentieth Century, the Yeti thought the two human children were young of its own species in need of protection. Here? I dunno. Diana’s in the movie because movies are supposed to have pretty girls, and the Yeti menaces her because that’s what happens to said pretty girls in movies. Nobody’s meant to care about the reason. The writers sure didn’t.

The Yeti itself is doubtless what you’ve been waiting to hear about. It’s the real star of this movie. While the aliens and their ship don’t look too bad, either, the Yeti suit is clearly what the film-makers are most proud of, and it gets plenty of screen time. It’s a pretty fun Yeti as crappy movie creatures go, around twenty feet tall (except when it’s carrying Diana, when it mysteriously shrinks to more like seven feet) and shaggy, with big tusks sticking up from its lower lip. The script doesn’t give the guy in the suit much to work with, but he manages to convey that this is a creature capable of both violence and gentleness, even as its actual motivations remain a mystery.

The motivations of the aliens are equally murky. The climax of the movie happens when the angry mob on skis chases the Yeti to the edge of a cliff, where they throw torches at it until its fur catches fire. It is then kind enough to put Diana down, before toppling off the precipice to its death. And then, with their Yeti dead, the aliens just fucking leave! Only minutes later, their glowing ship rises out of the snow where we’ve all been assuming it’s stuck, and flies away across the sky. The movie treats this as a victory, never entertaining the idea that they’ve, say, gone to get reinforcements. Dr. Wilson watches them go and muses, “I wonder if they found out what they wanted to know.”

Personally, I don’t think the aliens were here for any sort scientific or military purpose. Instead, imagine you’re on a cross-country road trip with your buddies, and somebody brought their dog. That’s fun, but it does mean that every so often you’re gonna have to stop somewhere to let the dog stretch its legs and pee on a few things. With me so far? Okay, imagine that on one of these stops, the dog digs up an anthill, and the ants retaliate by setting it on fire and pushing it off a cliff. You’d leave pretty damn quick too, wouldn’t you? I don’t think we have to worry about these particular aliens ever coming back.

#mst3k #reviews #terror in the midnight sun #episodes that never were #all these movies have bigfoot in them #poor john carradine #50s

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marylorson-blog · 4 years

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“Rolling Thunder” excerpted from Signals: a performance memoir

Featured May 2020 on Unfictional https://www.kcrw.com/culture/shows/unfictional

I wasn't a bastard but I still felt kind of illegitimate. Dad and Mom had eloped, three months after meeting. My sisters from Mom’s first marriage loved him like mad, but then one day Dad vanished, before I could form a single memory of him.

I've always wondered why that day was the finale. How do you walk away from a beaming little two-year-old face, one that looks like you? I was there, but unaware. I want the scene.

My sisters say: Dad was great.

Mom says: All you need to know is he walked away.

Dad said: Mom kicked him out that day, that he crammed his suits and stereo into the Mustang and rushed to the city for a meeting, paying a kid twenty bucks to guard the car, which was empty anyway when he came back out.

Later, once I knew him, I asked: “Was there another woman?”

His answer: “There must have been.”

THEY BLAMED IT ALL ON ALCOHOL.

Mom said: infidelity wasn't the only problem; unofficial-seeming “bill collectors” were showing up at the house.

My sisters said: Dad made life fun, played the piano, adored Mom. But skillets and invectives would fly in the night...and then Dad went missing, with hundreds of thousands of some investor’s dollars.

By the time my sisters were 8, 10 and 11, they had lost two fathers.

Mom hadn’t worked since modeling before her first marriage. She borrowed tuition for a full-time secretarial course and sent me to stay with her brother, another charming alcoholic with money problems and a fed-up wife. Mom and the girls stayed behind, in the lovely house on Manor Lane.

I rejoined them fifteen months and few blocks but a world away, in a garden apartment behind the Country Club. Mom kept the crystal chandelier and her gown from the Kennedy Inaugural, and a suite of heavy furniture that wasn’t made for small rooms.

Sometime later, Dad called Mom for a friendly chat. He was glad to hear she was in love and admitted that he and his girlfriend had a baby. He asked her to sign some papers for a Tijuana divorce. Sure, Mom said, and I’ll take the trip too. She came back with castanets and a tan. I remember understanding that my parents would never get back together.

I had Dad's nose and hair and musicality, but couldn’t remember a thing about him. Mom said I was lucky I didn't know what I was missing. The older girls talked about their happy chapter with my dad all the time, but I’d wait alone out front for the Mustang that didn't come.

One day, though, he showed, and this was my own first memory of Dad: Christmastime, Chinatown, and three wrapped presents: a Dancerina doll, a Polaroid Swinger, and a camel hair coat from Saks. The surviving Polaroids show a serious dad and a manically happy me.

Dad promised that now he was going to bring all his kids together regularly. He'd repeat this song on our scattershot dates over the years, but that visit WAS the beginning, of our intermittent, fond, indulgent, dishonest bond. After that, I lived in obsessive anticipation of the next visit, never knowing when it would be.

(Band in)

A Dancerina doll, a Polaroid Swinger, and a camel hair coat from Saks. Dad gave me these, and went back to wherever he went.

During Kindergarten: I roomed with Mom, but she was out most nights. The big girls had the other bedroom. I wasn’t allowed in, but from the other side of the door I’d smell and listen attentively. Incense, patchouli, cigarettes, maybe pot? Talking, laughing, singing Joni Mitchell, CSNY...yelling, hitting, screaming, cursing. I swear I could hear the brushing of their long tresses, the swinging of their unhindered double-D breasts...meanwhile people kept mistaking me for a boy.

“You have your father’s thin hair,” Mom complained, so she took me to the barber on the corner, who gave me a buzz cut... and rationalized it this way: “It don't matta if she looks bad now; it mattas what she looks like when she's 18.” Mom thought this was a riot. There was none of this “you're beautiful because you're you” bullshit with Mom. You either looked good, or you didn't.

THERE IN THE CATHODE LIGHT, NOBODY BEAMED UP BRIGHT ENOUGH FOR HER TO LIKE NOONE TO WALK BESIDE

YEAH, YOU HARDLY KNEW US

THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE/THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE

Then, In first grade we moved to Carol Avenue, and I almost had another sister!

Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne!....Jeanne!

We had a great time together.

MOM MET HER FATHER AT THE GIANT STEP

A PIANO BAR IN NEW ROCHELLE

SHE'D GOT MY DEADBEAT DAD THE GIG,

AND HE SHOWED UP

WENT DOWN SO SHE COULD GRAB THE TIPS,

AND LET ADMIRERS BUY HER DRINKS

LED BY THE VERY HANDSOME ED DESONNE

Mom was passionate and needed a rescue; Ed DeSonne was a prosperous investment banker. Both were raising broods of four alone. Ed wasn’t divorced yet, but soon he and Mom got engaged, and we were going to be like the Brady Bunch, with martinis. In the meantime, he was paying the rent on our roomy townhouse on Carol Avenue...

YEAH, IT'S NEVER SIMPLE

BUT WE'LL GIVE IT A TRY; MAYBE BE ALRIGHT

Jeanne too was the youngest of four. She was fearless and funny, and once the parents were married, she would be my roommate. But until then, I had to spend a few more nights with one or another of my unwilling sisters. One such Saturday, Knockout Diane was supposed to watch me while Shy Karen sister went to a party, but Diane sneaked out. Karen wailed, but Mom had plans with Ed, who arrived in a cloud of aftershave and tapped his shiny toe in the foyer. Mom appeared in glamorous good cheer and ordered me to kiss him. I didn't wanna.

“Go ahead: give him a little kiss,” Mom said, and Ed reached out gamely, but I wound back and fired a fierce little first-grade kick right into his suited shin.

Today we'd say I was “acting out.” But back then, everybody just yelled. Then the grownups... went out. And the television...went on. And then: Ed DeSonne disappeared, changing the channel on a whole other level.

ED, WE HARDLY KNEW YE…

In first grade you learn to add 2 plus 2. I overheard the word “funeral” and didn’t see Jeanne’s dad for a week; these factors equalled --to me-- that he was dead. When Mom announced it, the big girls wailed like the world was ending. But I just said: “I know.”

I wasn't glad Ed was dead, but I wasn't sad, either. I didn't know how much we lost.

Mom told everyone the aneurysm happened while Ed was driving; years later she told me the rest of the story. She also told me that, in her grief, she'd called MY DAD, as a friend, and that he'd sneaked away to be there with her at Ed's funeral.

In the instant it takes for a blood vessel to pop, Mom became bereft, unemployed, and homeless. And our family dispersed like seeds in the wind.

Diane went to live with her father in the city. The rest of us were taken in by another divorcee with a sun-porch we shared for the nervous, chilly months it took Mom to save up a security deposit. Karen cried endlessly, Mom cooing in her ear and breaking Valiums in half. Fightin’ Joni moved in with her best friend. I got caught standing on our hosts’ kitchen counter in my loafers, stealing cookies from their Charles Chips tin.

But worst of all, Jeanne was sent into foster care.

I only saw her once again after that, but we’re Facebook friends now.

While we were staying with the other family, Dad got tickets for the TV show "Wonderama", for me and our host's daughter, and she won the big prize! Our moms picked us up, tipsy on high heels, loading the prizes in the back of a Checker, ignoring candy-starved Moonies in white shirts and dark blazers who tried to sell us carnations.

(BEAT, then energy back down)

Mom found an apartment. It was in Tuckahoe, so we switched schools. I was in 2nd grade; Joni, 7th; Karen, 9th. I got sent to the principal's office for wearing pants; he showed me a paddle, said next time he'd use it. But maybe it wasn't just the trousers.

Men landed on the moon. “Evil Ways” was in heavy rotation. And “Spinning Wheel.” Our apartment sat at a dead end by a highway. At night the passing cars projected an abstract slide show on our bedroom wall. In the living room, Mom would light a candle and drink wine. The apartment often smelled of the burned bottom of a saucepan.

That Christmas Eve, Mom fell asleep and the candles burned all the way down, through the tablecloth, and into the nice oak table. I woke up when the fire department arrived.

YEAH, WE HARDLY KNEW YOU//IT WAS JUST OUR LIFE/THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE

Karen was 15 and wanted privacy; I was seven and wanted company. One day these opposing desires clashed at a bedroom door, both sides pushing until the big kid won, my middle finger slammed in the door jamb.

The top was hacked completely off. Mom raced me to New Rochelle Hospital, where the surgeon told her to retrieve the tip of my finger or I'd have a stump for the rest of my life. Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Karen tried to flush my finger, along with her shame and horror, down the toilet.

Thanks to low-rent plumbing, my fingertip didn't disappear, and the toilet water even kept it alive. Mom carried it in a baggie back to the surgeon, who successfully reattached it. (Now, there’s a parent's errand.) They kept me in the hospital for a week, because I was hyperactive and the doctor feared I'd bang the stitches open.

It's possible I was on painkillers, because when Dad appeared he was like a dream, swinging down the hall with his great suit and smiling blue eyes. He'd stopped at the gift shop, and gotten me a dozen long stemmed American Beauty roses and a music box. When you opened it, a ballerina pirouetted to this song:

OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MORNING/ OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY/I'VE GOT A BEAUTIFUL FEELING/EVERYTHING'S GOING MY WAY

The roses died, of course. I kept that box, though, long after the ballerina broke off and the inside felt was smutty with lipgloss and melted JollyRanchers. Didn’t see Dad again for another 4 years..

#memoir #musical #70s culture

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