#the fact that Gala Dance is only 10 seconds long kills me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imonthinice · 3 years

Note

are you taking requests? if so can you pls use the line "is there a problem here, gentlemen?" in a story?

BONUS STORY! 2ND UPLOAD OF THE DAY?? CRAZY. (if there is a second upload it’ll be at 6pm EST)

Author's Note: You fucking bet your bottom dollar that I'm going to do that.

Y/N - Your name

Batfam + batsis story. Y/N is the newest daughter of Bruce Wayne and is following in everyone’s footsteps as the youngest, in years of service, vigilante of the crew. They hold a gala with villains.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: LMAo Angst whoops, no spoilers but injury and description of injury, Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd amen

One-Shot. Not in the Criminal Psychology Majors Continuity.

Y/N packed up her knives into her thigh holsters, apparently, Bruce thought it was a good idea to hold a gala with the known villains of the world. And the kids had to handle it if it got out of hand, Why the fuck are we doing this, She thought, This is a stupid idea.

"Kids, I know you all think this is stupid-" Bruce tried to say before he was cut off.

"You could fucking say that again." Jason snapped at him.

"Kids, I know you all think this is stupid." Y/N mocked Bruce.

"Okay, okay, I get it. It’s a dumb idea.”

“Again, no fucking shit, Sherlock Holmes,” Tim said.

“You guys really don’t need to gang up on me like this,” Bruce tried to say.

“Gang up on you?! You’re the one all like ‘Hey kids! We’re going to do a gala with villains hehe! I hope u don’t mind xoxo.’ Shut the fuck up, Bruce,” Y/N snapped.

“Do you even want to go with that attitude?”

“No! I think that’s pretty fucking obvious!” she snapped again as she went to go grab one of her guns, but Bruce grabbed her arms.

“No. Guns,” he said, trying to be stern with her.

“No. Villains. In. The. House. Oh wait. You’re an idiot, I forgot, silly me,” she mocked before struggling out of his grasp and grabbed her guns and holstered them, one on each side, ambidextrous shooter because she had learned from Jason, quick with knifes and throwing them as well.

“Y/N, there’s no need to be so violent with me,” Bruce tried to say to get her to calm down.

“You just better hope none of those villains make a fucking move, Bruce.”

--------------------------------------

At the party, she wore combat boots and a cat suit under her dress, just so she could slip it off and go into action just as quickly. Her vigilante name was Syndicate, because when she named herself she thought she had the same values as Bruce and his kids. After time progressed, she realized that she was a lot more like Jason than she cared to admit.

They both carried guns into that party like no one was watching and telling them not to. They didn’t trust the villains in their house in any capacity, and that was obvious from both of their outbursts earlier in the day. They were the outliers in the batfam. The ones who did agree with some of what they were shown, but guns and death were necessary sometimes. She and Jason were the true Syndicate.

It was a masquerade ball, so everyone’s faces were hidden, but Jason had his white hair streak, so she knew where to go to talk about the gala and what they would do if the villains attacked the rest of them, and she did so.

Walking over to Jason, she could feel the eyes of many men around her, not everyone recognized her as the newest daughter of Bruce Wayne, so eyes were hungry and they wanted to dance the night away with the temptress. She thought that dating was idiotic, though. And especially if it was a villain trying to sweep her off of her feet.

“May I have this dance, milady?” Jason asked.

“Yes,” she said while accepting his outstretched hand and they went to twirl around the dance floor when she leaned into his ear, “I don’t trust these fucks, Jason,” she whispered.

“Who the fuck does trust it,” he whispered back.

“We need to be on our toes.”

“You’re already on your toes, dancing with me,” he joked.

“You’re the worst, Jason. I mean it.”

“When do you not. But I’m your favourite brother and you know it,” he said as he dipped her.

“While that may be true,” she stopped when she caught some of the people leaving to the backdoor, “We have an issue,” she whispered and pointed towards the people leaving.

“Son of a bitch.”

And they were off as fast as they could without drawing suspicion.

----------------------------

“Is there a problem here, Gentlemen?” Jason asked when they met up with the people trying to snoop, they assumed.

“Yes, there is,” one of the mystery men said as he pulled a gun and pointed it at Jason, “And it’s you, son.”

“Cute! He even brought his little girlfriend with him!” one of the other men exclaimed as he snooped closer towards Y/N and pulled a gun on her too.

“Festive, truly, you three are,” she said, staring down the barrel of the gun.

“Shut it, girl,” the second man commanded.

“No thanks,” she said as she grabbed the barrel of the gun and struggled it out of her face, it misfired and hit a few different areas of the wall behind her, at the same time, Jason had managed to get the gun out of his attacker’s hands and was pointing it back at him.

She continued to one-hand hold the gun while she tried to find the handle of one of her knives. She managed to grab it and fling it into the shoulder of the third, not speaking, man’s shirt and pin him to the wall. The struggle for the gun was still on though, but she was able to get her other hand onto the gun when it fired off.

Jason was busy attacking the other two men to notice that Y/N had been shot in the shoulder, and too busy to realize that the party had been evacuated and Bruce was up his ass in texts asking where he and Y/N were.

Y/N slumped to the ground, clutching her wound when the man turned his gun on Jason, she used her boots to her advantage and kicked the man to the floor as hard as she could. Jason ended up being able to tie the three men to each other within 10 minutes, while Y/N was bleeding out on the floor, he didn’t notice she was shot till she was clutching on for her life.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he whispered as he tried to lug her off the ground and run to the front entrance, where he could hear the ambulances going off. When she whispered to him, “I’m...” she breathed, “Sorry...” she breathed again, “Jay,” she didn’t breathe again.

He sat there in shock,, clutching his dead sister’s body in his arms and making no noise when the paramedics rushed in and saw the damage. The called in for the coroner, and went to get Jason off of her.

---------------------------------

In the police station, they told Jason that they just needed him to explain his story, even though they had the footage. Bruce was pressing charges against the men, later to be Harvey Dent and two of his accomplices, for the death of his daughter.

Bruce had not seen his son since the incident, but things were moving quickly and he would get to see him again when the police finished their interviews. But Jason was struggling to get his words out, so they let Bruce go see his son and try to comfort him.

“Jay?” Bruce asked, trying to see if Jason would even look at him, he didn’t, so Bruce went and just hugged his son while he cried into his dad’s shoulder, “I know, son. You did your best.”

---------------------------------------

The funeral for Y/N involved a lot of crying from every batfam member. Even Damien, who struggled to show Y/N a lot of love, cried like no one was watching at his big sister’s grave. He actually laid beside her grave once she was buried for a while as everyone was telling stories about her. Dick found him and picked him up to take him inside.

No one held resentment for Jason and him not noticing, they all saw the tapes, she didn’t make a damn noise until she was dying in his arms. Stubborn bitch, Jason had joked and everyone had laughed. They could at least remember Y/N for who she was before she died.

------------------------------

The trial was long and winded. Harvey, thank god, confessed in his interigation so he pled guilty to being an accessory to murder. However, both of his accomplices, even the man who shot her, pled not guilty to all charges. So the trial was hard.

Jason testified in court about how he thought she’d be okay, she could carry her own, but the gun shots were so loud and he very easily shot her. Then his lawyer started saying it was self defense.

The rest of the trial started to blur for all of them. But all of them were found guilty for the murder.

The victim’s statement to determined the death penalty was said by Bruce.

“Your Honor, these men took away my daughter. And I honestly don’t want them to get the death penalty. I want them to rot away in a prison. The poor girl was only 19, I want them to spend at least 20 years behind bars, sitting there, knowing they killed my baby girl,” he paused to wipe a tear, “I wish we weren’t here and she got to grow up and have kids. She’ll never know her nieces and nephews, the people her siblings marry, or even get married,” he paused again.

“I want my daughter back, but we’ll never get that. So, Your Honor, I ask for you to not give mercy for these men, Your Honor. Thank you.”

The men got life in prison without the possibility of parole.

----------------------------

Damien actually took his partner to meet his big sister first, before explaining the story to them. He still finds it hard to talk about how she died.

Tim goes to her grave a lot and tells her stories about his life and how he’s doing without her. He always leaves telling her that he loves her.

Barbara visits often as well. Just to talk to her. She says a lot about the missions they go on without her and how the team isn’t complete anymore, and how she worries Jason will never recover from this event.

Cassie doesn’t go often, the memories of Y/N are enough for her most of the time, but she goes every holiday and on Y/N’s birthday just to greet her and say that she loves her.

Steph seems to still have trouble accepting the fact that Y/N is gone. Maybe it's because they fought the night before and it would have been resolved so easily had she not died. It hurts everyone to see Steph talk about it.

Dick will sit at her grave for hours, he’s the one to clean her grave when it gets dirty. He doesn’t always talk to her, but when he does he asks her if she’s met his parents and if they’re proud of him. He’ll probably never know the answer to it, but he likes to think the wind that hits him after that is Y/N saying that she loves him and that his parents ar proud of him.

Jason doesn’t go to her grave on the day she died. He refuses to admit that she died in his arms, so he doesn’t go on the anniversary of her death. He bottles himself up in his room and cries. He has nightmares about her death.

Bruce wishes he could have done more, but when the trial ended he went to her grave and told her about it. He actually laid her to rest by his parents so that she could be near her grandparents.

Alfred misses her but knows that he couldn’t have done anything, but he leaves nothing in front of the doors and windows so she can enter if ghosts are real.

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tsrookie · 3 years

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Alright, so today’s the three-year anniversary of Reputation a.k.a the greatest album of all time, my baby, the light of my life, the album that deserved a Grammy (trying desperately not to think about the scene from Miss Americana😭), the album that introduced us to the most beautiful couple ever, the album that shut Kimye up, and I better stop now, or else I’m not gonna shut up.

So in honour of this momentous occasion (and the fact that I reached 200+ followers! Thank you so much you guys!🥺 Love you all 3000💙), here’s a loooooong post on why Reputation is the Ethan and MC album.

1. ...Ready For It?

No one has to know

Throwback to MC saying the exact same words back in Miami.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

You should see the things we do, baby, mmm

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

I know I'm gonna be with you

So I take my time

Remember back when MC asked for Ethan to get into bed right away during their first time? Ethan told them that he had dreamt about the moment for months, so he wasn’t going to rush it.

2. End Game

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me would be a big conversation

These two dating would be the talk of the hospital, and they know it.

Even when we'd argue, we don't do it for long

And you understand the good and bad, end up in the song

For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Think these lines are pretty self-explanatory😌

I hit you like bang

We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't

*gets war flashbacks of the ‘reset’ phase*😭 They tried to make it work, but we all know how Ch 8 of book 2 went😌

I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me

Perfect for our chaotic MC😌

3. Don’t Blame Me

Do I... really have to explain this one?

For you, I would cross the line

I would waste my time

I would lose my mind

They say she's gone too far this time

Do we need a recap of our rule-breaking MC?

And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'd beg you on my knees to stay

He was willing to risk his (mostly) rule-abiding reputation for being with MC. And there’s no way he wouldn’t beg for MC not to leave him if he ever screwed up🤷‍♀️

4. Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

Ethan stood by MC’s side throughout the Ethics hearing, when her reputation was completely smeared, and people only saw her as a patient murderer. He didn’t know about the sabotages, but he would’ve definitely supported her if he had known.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

Commitment-phobia🙃

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep

Are you ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

They spent so much of time apart, not able to be with each other, so the least they could do was dream of being with each other all the time.

5. So It Goes (an underrated af bop)

What can I say... it’s a sex song, okay? Don’t make me go into the details😂 Just listen to the lyrics, and all will be clear.

6. Gorgeous (Tumblr won’t let me put any more links)

MC’s eternal anthem to Ethan.

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

We all know Ethan loves Whiskey, and the second line? C’mon!

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But, what can I say?

You're gorgeous

Ethan Ramsey is famous for two reasons. One: his smart brain, I guess😒 Two: HIS LOOKS!!! HE’S GORGEOUS, AND DON’T DENY IT.

And you should think about the consequence

Of you touching my hand in the darkened room (dark room, dark room)

Ah, the olden days of hand holding in the diagnostics office🥺

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

No explanation required.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

The wonderful will-they-won’t-they saga. The frustrating hot-and-cold behaviour. The ‘We can’t’, ‘It’s unethical’ and ‘It’s complicated’. MC deserves an award for her patience😓

7. King Of My Heart

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own

I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone

Ethan ‘I don’t believe in soulmates and nobody’s waiting at home’ Ramsey.

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

This could be from both Ethan and MC’s perspectives. The love they share isn’t something that you get easily. It’s something that MC has waited for her whole life, and something Ethan never knew he needed, but now can’t live without🥺

Late in the night, the city's asleep

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

Change my priorities

The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

This was definitely Ethan throughout book 2, after he finally gave in. He let go of his previous rules and regulations, especially during the time of the attack. He was clearly affected, and once MC was alright, his main priority was her, and her alone.

Is the end of all the endings?

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

Ethan’s been burnt a lot in the past. But all those wounds are now healing thanks to MC.

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

They act like lovesick teenagers around each other, like, that’s literally their description if you choose to kiss Ethan for the first time in Chapter 14 of book 2!😅

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

Baby, all at once, this is enough

We all know about his initial fear of his mother reaching out to him for the sake of his money. To him, MC not talking advantage of him is a pretty big deal, even though it’s never mentioned. You just know, you know?🥺

8. Dancing With Our Hands Tied

My, my love had been frozen

Deep blue, but you painted me golden

Again, Ethan doesn’t have the best experience with love. But MC changed that.

I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted

This could go both ways, cause they’re both piping hot messes😬 (but love each other anyway🥺)

The rest of this song could have made so much more sense for them if we had gotten some sort of a secret relationship storyline. But oh well, I’m definitely not complaining about the gala😌 (and definitely not believing any of the supposed cancelled storylines)

9. Dress

Our secret moments

In a crowded room

They got no idea

About me and you

I mean... pretty obvious😌

Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My one and only, my lifeline

This is practically Ethan’s train of thought, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

As for the rest of the steamier lyrics... I’ll um... let you guys listen to it yourselves😁

10. Call It What You Want

I wrote an entire fic inspired by this song, so excuse me for the shameless self-promo, but go give it a read?🥺👉👈(totally fine if you don’t! I’ve probably made so many posts about this song that y’all know the meaning anyway😅)

11. New Years Day

Don't read the last page

But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away

I want your midnights

But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

MC has always stayed by Ethan’s side, even when he’s pushed her away. These lines perfectly explain how she wants his worst times, and his best, the midnights they spend staying up together, and the moments where it’s just the two of them, when everyone else has left, like the aftermath of a New Years party (still mad at the fact that we didn’t get to see the gang celebrate New Year together😭)

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe

Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

The above explanation for these lines as well.

Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

Becoming strangers to each other would be their worst nightmares. Knowing that the other was out there in the world somewhere, but not being in their lives would kill them.

You and me forevermore

These two are each other’s soulmate, they know it, even if they haven’t said it yet. Forever wouldn’t be enough for them to shower each other with they love they hold for each other. But it’s a good start.

——————————

If you guys made it this far, then I honestly love you more than words can ever express🥺💙 Thanks for putting up with my Swiftie-Directioner-Ethan stan ass, cause I dunno if I’d ever be able to handle someone like myself. And if you read all the above stuff, then I hope you wanna know why this album means so much to me.

Reputation is perceived as a dark album, when in reality it’s truly about finding love amongst all the noise. This album, and Taylor and Joe’s story, taught me what true love actually is, and Ethan and MC cemented that. This album and these two couples (quite literally) saved my life.

The most beautiful part about both these relationships is that even though they never showed it openly, for the sake of their relationships, both Ethan(in the story) and Joe stood by the side of the one’s they loved, despite half of the people who they knew hating on them, or betraying them. And I think that’s what’s truly important. Forming a true relationship like that, be it platonic or romantic, is long lasting, and I hope everyone finds those kind of people to fill their hearts with. Sending much love, and sorry for being a huge sap😅💙

Tagging a couple of my Swiftie homies: @swiftlydarcy @nikki-2406 @dxnicaramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @drariellevalentine @justanotherrookie

#open heart #open heart second year #dr ethan ramsey x mc #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #mercy goes nuts #happy three years of Reputation🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤#ethan ramsey

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imagines-r-s · 4 years

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The Irony of Soulmates

chapter 1: sex,money,feelings,die//Lykke Li

What happens when soulmates and mobs collide? An already messed up world combined with the idea of a person set to be perfect for you, something is bound to go wrong. When soulmates are brought into the world of the three most powerful mobs in London, what will happen? This is all bound for destruction, but love appears in the most ironic ways sometimes.

series masterlist || prologue || chapter 2 ||

A/N: i’m so sorry this took so long, school just finished, so I should have more time to write

WC: 2.7k

taglist: @spideyyeet @quaksonhehe @whatdoyxumean @ineedmorestyles (comment or send an ask if you would like to be added)

You might not have known much in your 21 years of age, but there were a few things that you were for sure about: mobs and soulmates do not mix; mobs and friends do not mix; mobs and love do not mix.

Any sort of connection in this line of work was dangerous, it didn’t matter the degree. Friends were dangerous, soulmates were dangerous, and love, in general, was dangerous. Soulmates made this line of work hard, you had to completely give up any idea or hope of meeting your soulmate.

You couldn’t even fathom the idea that the universe somehow had your perfect match set up for you. Joining you together with a stupid mark that showed up when you were 18 that matched you with who you were meant to be with and then once you kissed, you’d be able to communicate telepathically. It was a ridiculous concept that you paid no mind to.

Whenever doing work, your mind always went back to the time before you were as involved in all of this, back to when you still had friends, when your parents were still here, and before thinking about this stupid rivalry took up a majority of your time.

Being made second-in-command of one of the biggest mobs in London at the age of 16, after the death of your parents, was a major change that happened in your life even at the age of 21, you still haven’t completely adjusted to it if you’re being completely honest. The only thing keeping you together was your older brother and your best friend.

Everything in your life before you turned 16 was perfectly fine, you had friends, school was great, you could live a normal life without certain stressors, and people you trusted at one point weren’t your enemy. But here you are 5 years later, working hard as second in command, living with your brother in a huge mansion, and living the lavish life while committing crimes and getting away with it every single time.

Around this time of year the annual Gala of London, your favorite event of the year, you got to dress up, look nice, dance, and annoy the Hollands--which was your favorite part. This event made it easy to pull stunts against the Hollands and the Hughes, without terrible repercussions as it would lead to bad publicity.

14 days before

The sound of your heels clicking was the only thing you heard as you walked down the long hallway of your mansion. The smell of bourbon mixed with cigarettes filled your nostrils as you finally reached Harrison’s office. When you knocked and didn’t get an answer you walked in, assuming correctly that he was on the phone.

You rocked on your heels as you waited for him to get off the phone, which lasted a shorter amount of time than you anticipated. “What do you want?” you asked as you sat at one of the chairs near his desk. “Well, hello to you, too,” you grinned.

“What’s up?”

“Just letting you know, that there’s a possibility I won’t be there at the Gala,” you were confused as to why he said it so calmly, but you were shocked to hear the news.

“What do you mean you won’t be at the Gala?”

“I mean I have things to do that I can’t necessarily tell you right now, but if I can’t make it you’ll need to get information from the Holland’s,” he continued without looking at your facial expressions,” they’ve apparently interrogated one of our men that went rogue, but to find out who it is, we need the file from their computer.” Haz stopped talking and finally looked up at you, “what’s wrong?”

“So you mean to tell me that, a.) you won’t be at the Gala, b.) you want me to go on a solo mission while being in the Holland mansion, and c.) one of our men went rogue and you didn’t tell me. Haz, you can’t just keep shit like this from me, I’m your second, I should at least be informed on these things,” the feeling of betrayal after hearing he kept secrets from you and then expected that much of you, was a lot to take in all at once.

“Yes, y/n, you’re my second-in-command, I am in charge here and although you help, you don’t always know everything as soon as it happens,” you scoffed. “Ok, Harrison, ok.”

You left as quickly as possible, making your way over to the east wing of your mansion where you assumed your best friend, Zendaya, would be. Luckily for you, Zendaya was also a part of the Osterfield mob, her parents were friends with yours when they were still alive, so you and her grew up together. She was only two years older than you were, making her and Haz the same age. She was able to move into the Osterfield mansion when she turned 18, she was family to you, being the older sister you never had.

You tried hard not to cry, you usually didn’t. Keeping the basic, heartless facade that helped you get by in this line of work, but the fact that Harrison was the one to say something that hurt you bothered you more than you cared to admit. You and Haz acted the way that normal sibling rivalries go, but you would also literally kill anyone that hurt the other. The one thing that you both bonded over the most was leading, now that he was leaving you out of things--or that you became aware of it--hurt you more than anything.

By the time you made it over to the east wing, you saw Z reading in your library. “Z, I need your help,” you smiled at her, knowing you probably interrupted her reading time.

She glared at you, “You’re lucky I love you, y/n/n, so lucky. What do you need?”

“Soooo, the gala is coming up…” you said, hoping that she would catch on to what you were implying.

“And?” she said waiting for your explanation. “And I need your help to find a dress to wear. Subtle, not too slutty, but slutty enough.” She simply rolled her eyes at you, “yeah, I get what you mean.”

You and Z headed to your favorite boutique in London, just so both of you could find the perfect dress. After trying on as many dresses as you could find that you liked, you finally settled on a velvet, emerald green long sleeve dress with a slit, that went up to your mid-thigh; the only issue was the dress showed way too much of your shoulder, which is where your soulmate mark is.

You had mixed feelings about your soulmate mark. Your soulmate mark was an outline of a crescent moon on your left shoulder, the mark was beautiful, but you couldn’t show it. If you did, anyone would be able to use it against you. You didn’t want your soulmate to be harmed because of your actions. You always had to alter your clothes to where it couldn’t be seen, but you’d done it for the past 21 years and you would continue to do so until you died.

“So, what happened between you and brother dearest today?” you expected her to ask sooner, but the question still took you by surprise nonetheless. “Uh, I don’t know honestly. He didn’t tell me some information and it just bothered me that’s all.”

“Well, did he say why he didn’t tell you?” she had made a valid point, maybe if he had told you why you wouldn’t have gotten so upset. “No, he didn’t tell me why.”

Zendaya, being the only rational person in your life, made you realize that maybe if you talked to him, he’d tell you what was up.

When you got home Harrison was nowhere to be found, so you just left it at that.

10 days before

“I’m just going to bring in the shoulder part of the dress, that way it covers your mark,” you nodded in response to Robert, your tailor. Even though the people in the mansion did work for you, you had grown close to many of them over the years.

Robert was always able to make alterations that covered your soulmate mark, and you were so thankful for that. “Ok, y/n, how does this look,” you looked up at the full-length mirror in awe, you were already in love with the dress and you were thankful that it could be fixed.

“I love it, it looks great,” you beamed at how nice the dress looked on you, “thank you so much.”

“Make sure her mark is covered,” a voice you hadn’t expected to hear, said. You honestly hadn’t anticipated to see Haz for a few more days, so hearing his voice surprised you a lot more than you wanted to admit.

“It is, trust me,” you replied, not looking away from your reflection in the mirror.

“Robert, if you’ll excuse yourself, I need to talk to y/n,” Robert nodded and left the room quickly, shutting the door on the way out, “look, I’m sorry about the other day, but you have to understand that I only keep things from you to protect you, I wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt you.”

“I appreciate the apology, but please know that I can hold my own and I understand you keeping info away from me for my safety, but piling it all on me in one sitting was just a lot. Now, how do you like the dress?” Haz smiled at the fact of how quickly you deflected the conversation.

“It’s very nice, but I know someone that will be happy to see it,” he smirked as he saw your smile falter.

“If you mean Holland, then stop.” You and the oldest Holland had a strange relationship. Before your life went to hell, you and him were extremely close, considering the fact that you were on opposing sides. You two had been through a lot, but when things got difficult between the mobs, everything changed. The exact reason you knew that friendships never worked in this line of work.

“You’ll definitely grab his attention, but on the topic of the gala, the meeting I was at didn’t go as successfully as I had anticipated, so I won’t be at the gala.”

“I can’t go to the gala alone and try to get information, especially at the Holland mansion,” he was asking a lot of you, but you still had doubts.

Harrison made his way over to you, “y/n, you’ll be fine. I already know that you aren’t scared of them, and I know Tom wouldn’t hurt you even if he had to,” he laughed.

“Just because he’s gone soft doesn’t mean anything,” Harrison scoffed at your statement, he knew better than anyone how much of a soft spot Tom had for you, he hoped that you were smart enough to notice. “The only soft spot he has is for you. I hope you realize that.” Haz left you without saying anything else; you were smart enough to know that Tom did have a soft spot for you, it was very obvious, but you didn’t want to think about that much.

6 days before

Physically, you knew you were ready for this mission. Everything was set: the dress, the look, the plan, everything. Emotionally and mentally, not so much. You were so used to Haz being there with you, that it was a weird transition to be on your own.

Haz had left early this morning, you still didn’t know where, but after he apologized you could respect it to an extent. You were hopeful that when all this was over he’d be able to actually share information with you, but you could only hope.

The past few days had sped past you in a blur, as they were just you doing the same things every day: wake up, have breakfast with Z, fill out paperwork or do anything Haz needed you to do, shower, and go back to sleep. You had a simple routine that you made sure to always stick to, especially when Harrison was gone.

2 days ago

You were trying not to overthink the situation, knowing that it would only make things harder for you. The plan was simple: don’t draw too much attention, then get in, get information, and get out. You knew that you would be fine, but the looming thought that something could go wrong was running through your head. There was also the fear that you would disappoint Haz, this mission was necessary, especially considering the fact that you needed to figure out who the person who had gone rogue was.

You were brought out of your thoughts with a knock on your bedroom door, “come in.” Zendaya walked into your room and sat next to where you sat at your bay window. You two sat in comfortable silence for a while, until she finally broke it.

“You know you’ll be fine, right. Plus, I’ll be right there if you need anything.” You didn’t say anything, because, in all honesty, you didn’t know what to say. You knew she’d be there and you knew there was only a slight possibility that things went wrong, but you weren’t prepared for what would happen if it did go wrong. “Everyone will be on their best behavior while at the Gala, the only person you might have to worry about is maybe Corina, even then we both know you could take her easily,” you couldn’t help but laugh at her statement, “plus, as much as you don’t want it to be brought up, you and the Holland’s still have a history no matter how much you avoid the conversation. Now, please, get some rest. You have a very big day ahead of you.”

Z leaned down to kiss the top of your head and you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, “goodnight, Z. Sleep well,” and with that, she left your room.

The day of

You woke up a lot later than what you usually do, immediately going to take a shower and do your morning routine. Once you got out of the shower, you made your way downstairs, making sure to greet Robert and Pepper, your chef, on the way to your office. You kept to yourself for most of the day, until around 3pm, when you had to start getting ready for tonight.

Although you had the accessibility for other people to help you get ready, you preferred to get ready yourself. You wanted to keep the look simple to draw the attention to your dress. You started off with your hair, doing a simple, yet elegant, half-up-half-down look that accented your features well. Then came the makeup, sticking to a more simple look, a natural smokey eye, keeping it basic by wearing red lipstick, and adding minimal highlight.

You waited a while to put on the dress, saying as you had enough time before you had to leave. You allowed the emerald train of the dress to flow as you walked down the stairs,” woo, look at you,” you looked up to see Z waiting at the end of your stairs grabbing her clutch. “Not too bad yourself, Z.”

You grabbed your diamond choker from your clutch, asking Z to put it on you as you put on your Osterfield ring. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror and once you were happy with how you looked, “are you ready, y/n/n?” You nodded your head in confirmation.

The drive to the Holland mansion was filled with talk about anything and everything and also the occasion Beyonce song to hype you both up. When you felt the limo finally come to a stop, you forced a breath out. “You’ll be okay, just don’t draw too much attention and you’ll be able to find me if you need anything,” Z said, reassuring you again.

You two made your way up the stairs outside of their mansion, arm in arm. You took one more deep breath before walking through the door. You slowly made your way through the entrance looking around for everything you needed to when the echo of shoes were heard throughout the ballroom causing you to look up at the source of the noise, only to be met with the people you didn’t want to see: Sam, Harry, and Tom Holland.

#mob au #mob!tom holland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #mobster!tom #au #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom x mob!reader #tom holland x osterfield!reader

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years

Text

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: smut Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

~ 2100 words

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Chapter 20

"I hate it," Amy's desperate tone came straight from the dressing room.

"You said exactly the same thing about the previous one..." Lily was sitting on the couch in a weird position, sighing loudly from boredom, "...and another one before..."

Finally, Amy walked out of the dressing room.

She was wearing a simple black dress that was reaching half of her thighs, showing her bare legs. The upper part of the costume had a deep neckline on thin straps. It was clear that Amy didn't feel comfortable in this small amount of material that Lily chose for her.

"Damn, you're on fire, girl!" Lily clapped with pride.

Amy's face got red from shame. She didn't even know how to walk in this dress without revealing too much.

Because there was a lot of her skin revealed already.

"I don't think that this is appropriate for the gala," blonde turned around and looked at herself in the mirror.

Lily buried her head in hands, losing her temper.

"We were looking for a dress for you for over a week now," she lifted her gaze, powerless. "I know that you don't like wearing dresses... but girl, you're killing me right now."

Amy inhaled deeply, understanding her best friend's helplessness. She wasn't a shopping type, and since she was about to go to this gala as Kamilah's date, she wanted to look as good as it was possible.

They had spent in this boutique a couple of hours already. The place was all for their use, thanks to Kamilah's connections. But even that wasn't enough to make Amy choose a dress. Especially when she felt like she tried on everything in this clothing store.

And so far, nothing was good enough.

For sure, not what she was wearing at that moment.

Lily opened her mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by the sound of a third person stepping inside.

"Can I finally see what my date will wear for the gala?" Kamilah's voice was still far away.

Amy panicked and hid again in the dressing room, closing the curtain behind her hurriedly. She did it just on time before Kamilah appeared next to the couch on which young vampire was sitting.

"I don't think, you're gonna see her at all," Lily's voice showed tiredness unusual for her.

Kamilah finished her work for today, and she was full of hope that Amy finally chose the right dress to wear for this special occasion.

She couldn't be more wrong.

"What do you understand by that?" the woman looked at Lily with her cold eyes. "Are you telling me that you were here for another five hours and achieved nothing?" She was angry at Lily, who was responsible for helping Amy to make a decision.

"Be grateful that you didn't have to be here for this whole time," Lily stood up, gathering her things in a hurry. "But, since you are now, good luck."

The young vampire told her goodbye to Amy through the curtain and stormed out of the boutique.

Leaving the couple alone.

Kamilah let out a sigh of annoyance because of Lily's attitude. She left the purse on the couch and crossed her arms, readying herself for the view.

But nothing happened, Amy didn't walk out of the dressing room.

"Come on, my little firefly, show me yourself," Kamilah's voice sounded way much softer than when she was talking to Lily.

"Over my dead body," Amy spoke quietly behind the curtain.

Kamilah laughed shortly, getting closer to the dressing room, but not walking inside.

"I assure you that there is no part of your body left that I haven't already seen," the woman's voice confident.

No one in the boutique beside Amy could hear her words. And Kamilah was right, she had her time during the past week to explore Amy's body wholly. The same happened the other way around.

"May I?" she waited till Amy let out a sound of permission.

The woman pulled the curtain aside, revealing Amy in the same tight, black dress that she showed to Lily a moment before. The girl's face was red as she tried to cover herself somehow with her own hands.

Kamilah stood there for a moment speechless, taking in the view before her. Her mouth curled in a smirk, while she was slowly moving her eyes from the girl's legs, traveling up to her stomach, and higher to her upper body. The woman's eyes took short breaks on particular parts, making Amy blush even more.

"I know it's not an appropriate dress for the event like that," Amy said, gesturing wildly. "I don't know why I even said yes when Lily showed it to me," she would keep on explaining if she wasn't interrupted by what happened next.

The woman was near her in an instant, pushing Amy's back against the wall. Of course, she remembered to close the curtain behind her first.

"If your desire was to provoke me with this dress..." Kamilah whispered seductively into Amy's ear with her husky voice. "It worked."

Kamilah's hands slipped down from the girl's arms to wrists unbelievably slowly, finally resting on her hips.

"However, you are correct..." she looked into Amy's eyes, observing that her voice and touch already had its effect on her prey.

The woman increased the pressure on Amy's hips, scrapping her skin through the thin layer of material. Amy let out a little moan of pleasure, trying her best to compose herself since they were still in the public place.

"Kamilah..." the girl tried to reason with her.

But at that moment, her body was swirled around, and she found herself with her chest against the wall. The woman's fingers traveling from Amy's knees, up her thighs.

The dress went dangerously high when Kamilah moved her hands to Amy's waist, then to her back. The girl was already shivering under her touch, hating herself for such immediate reaction from her body.

"This dress..." another whisper into her ear, causing shudders.

Amy moaned louder when she felt a warm breath on the back of her neck. Lips that she wanted to feel on her skin were so close, but still not close enough. The girl didn't even notice when Kamilah unzipped the dress, leaving her back bare.

"Is only suitable for me..." another whisper. "To take it off."

Kamilah pulled down straps from Amy's arms. Within the second, the dress laid on the floor, leaving the girl in her underwear.

All of the doubts left Amy's mind in an instant. Her body ached to be touched by those fingers.

Kissed by those lips.

The fact of them being in a public place didn't matter at all.

Acting impulsively, Amy pushed her hips back, wanting more warmness of Kamilah's body. But the woman stepped back, causing the growl of annoyance to escape her mouth.

"But this is not the dress appropriate for the gala, as you correctly noticed," a sly smirk didn't leave Kamilah's face.

Amy turned around slowly. Her hair slightly messed up, skin hot from excitement. Chest lifting and falling quickly. She looked intensively into Kamilah's chestnut eyes, knowing the look hidden behind them.

The girl was getting used to Kamilah's teasing games. But she knew how to play on her own too. A cunning plan was created in her mind making her wear an innocent expression.

"So..." Amy pushed her butt against the wall, causing her upper body to lean forward, exposing her breasts. "Will you leave me like that in here?"

A spark showing in Kamilah's eyes as she looked at her, made the girl shudder slightly. The woman licked her lips hungrily, knowing what exactly Amy had in mind.

That she wanted to play.

Kamilah was the best one in this game. And she felt the need to prove that to this stubborn human being.

"I can see someone's being naughty," Kamilah kept her posture straight. A smirk dancing in the corner of her mouth. "That's a real shame I don't have time for that."

Amy's smile dropped. She stopped making slow movements with her body, and a sign of disappointment appeared on her face.

"How can you resist this?" Amy's game was short. Lack of confidence quickly reminded her about itself.

Kamilah maintained the visual contact for enough time to see Amy's growing unsureness. Her skin was slowly turning pinkish from confusion.

She was standing there before the woman in her underwear, suddenly feeling exposed.

"Wait here," Kamilah turned around, reaching for the curtain. "Be a good girl, and then we can talk."

With those words, she disappeared, leaving the girl alone.

Amy's heartbeat was increased in anticipation. On her skin showed goosebumps, making her wrap her arms around the exposed body. She turned herself to the huge mirror hanging on the wall to meet with her own reflection.

She looked over her body, remembering the places that were kissed last night by Kamilah's soft lips.

Spots, where previously were hickeys, now were just her soft, healed skin.

She still remembered the sweet touch of the woman's fingers pinching on the delicate skin of her thighs, sending shudders.

Amy closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly while her fingertips touched her own throat. They were slowly moving down, following the path Kamilah's mouth took during the night.

Down her chest, over her breasts, sliding to her belly button.

The girl chuckled slightly on the memory of Kamilah's tongue, teasing her sensitive spot. She rejected this thought, and moved her fingers lower, almost reaching the edge of her underwear.

"That's not what I meant by be a good girl," Kamilah's voice made Amy jump and open her eyes.

She didn't know how long the woman stood there, but one thing was clear. Kamilah had seen enough, assuming by her eyes, which became red like the shade of the most beautiful rose in the garden.

"I comprehend, you decided to have all the fun for yourself," the tone of Kamilah's voice was sharp, but her eyes were showing desire.

Amy couldn't stop a blush on her face again.

But at the same time, her eyes were focused on the dress Kamilah was carrying in her hands. She was drawn to the golden color of the gown, which made her own eyes change to identical shade.

"Woah, this is..." Amy's mouth opened in astonishment, "absolutely beautiful."

Kamilah stepped closer, spreading the dress before her to show it better. The costume was shining in the light like it was created only for this purpose.

"Try this on," the woman gave her the dress, seeing Amy's unsureness. "Just give it a try," she added quietly, "for me."

Finally, Amy took the dress and carefully put it on. She was watching her moves, not wanting to destroy the delicate material. The only thing left before she was fully dressed in it was a zipper. That's when Kamilah came with help.

At first, her fingers traced its way on Amy's smooth skin, starting from shoulders, moving down to her lower back. Finally, not wanting to torture the girl any longer, she slowly zipped the dress.

"That's what I call beautiful," Kamilah stood behind Amy, looking at the girl's reflection in astonishment. "It's you, who makes the dress special, not the other way around."

The upper part of the gown fitted Amy correctly, tightly matching her shape. The material was close to her body, creating an impression of another skin. The back of the dress was partially closed, and the straps were connecting it with the opened front. The V neckline was exposing Amy's chest to some extend, still making the dress look appropriate and elegant.

The lower part of the dress was of tulle, falling loosely down her legs. The side leg slit emphasized Amy's slim legs, adding her height. Not talking about what would happen after wearing high heels.

"What do you think?" Kamilah's voice showed that she was a little nervous about the girl's opinion.

"I think," Amy turned around with grace, putting her hands on the woman's shoulders, closing the distance between them. "That I can show myself in this next to you."

Kamilah smirked, seeing what the girl was up to. She followed her lead, slowly leaning down to Amy's lips.

The girl already closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss. But Kamilah stopped an inch from her mouth. They were able to feel each other's warmness.

An unbearable distance between them.

"I think the same," Kamilah whispered, and when the girl climbed on her toes to kiss her, she stepped back. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9 p.m."

And after those words, Kamilah left the boutique using her vampire speed.

Leaving behind herself only a gust of wind.

Amy sighed lightly before turning around to the mirror, smiling to herself again. She knew that she provoked Kamilah enough for that day. She was expecting nothing more than punishment after the gala.

The girl's smile faded when her eyes connected with their greenish reflection.

She had a bad feeling about the next day.

Next chapter: 21

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tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds, @myonlybae-joohyun @lightning-fury thank you for your advice on this chapter 💕

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah #kamilah x mc #bb kamilah #bb mc #bloodbound kamilah #lily spencer #BloodBound #choices bloodbound #choices bb #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic #smut

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lilyharvord · 5 years

Text

Fire and Flood

FUCK IT. I have finals, BUT WE NEED THE GALA SCENE NOW. I just finished reading that excerpt from Broken Throne and I need it now. (If it makes Cal blush my ass, Victoria.)

@nightmarebarrow @mareshmallow @clarafarleybarrow @marecalrandomstuff @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone @war-storm @dutyuntodeath (welcome back) @redqueenfandom @scarletguardsource @cptdanvxrs @scxrletguardsdawn @morebooks-pls @lamemathpuns @catchingfandoms5

if anyone is missing, let me know and I’ll tag you!! !(((: It’s long, and unedits, so enjoy children.

I’m not sure whether Gisa is a genius or would rather I hide in the mass of tulle she put together. She tuts behind me, her own dress far less ostentatious than mine. I wish she had been the one to dress like this though, she would have fit the part better than me.

Glancing over my shoulder to meet my eye in the mirror, she asks, “Is it too tight in the bodice?”

“No.” I admit quickly, shaking off my premonition of falling down the stairs because I can’t see my own two feet. Her smile has enough wattage that I’m surprised I don’t feel it in my bones. Adjusting the strings at the back so that they sit better, she hesitates to say, “There’s always another option. I’m sure we could find you a uniform lying around.”

“No,” I rush out, hearing the hint of ache in her voice. She made this dress for me, and had spent a whole week up north designing it. It would be a slap in the face if I decided to change my mind and wear a Monfort uniform. Besides, a uniform would not make him immediately blush.

I turn to face her, a smile creeping up my lips, making the scars pull on my neck. The skirts whisper on the ground, and for a moment, a flash of a navy train hissing on the ground runs through my mind. Its over, she’s dead and gone, he is too. I have to remind myself of that tonight, no matter what.

“It’s beautiful. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” My words only make her raise a brow to her hairline in skepticism. Each strand of her hair has been perfectly pulled back to show the glow of her face. Her eyes, brighter than stones, shine in the dim light of the room. I can’t help it when I say, “And you look beautiful as well.”

Her blush cuts across her cheeks in a splatter like paint being thrown on a canvas. Gisa looks even more beautiful when she blushes, if that is even possible. I had hoped to hide next to her, even though a part of my wishes to stand out. In this dress, I have no choice but to stand out though.

Her eyes can read those thoughts as they cross my mind though, and she offers me a reassuring smile. It does nothing to quell my nerves though. Slipping her arm around my elbow, she pulls me to the door, making the decision for me. Everything and everyone seems to be doing that these days. The storm made me leave the north, Cal refuses to speaks to me, ultimately deciding that we would have to continue dancing around each other like children, and Gisa put me in the dress, making me stand out no matter how hard I try.

We leave the safety of the room, and there is no turning back. Tonight will be able covers, making sure that any spies present think this is anything but a cover. Maybe I should rethink my non-drinking promise to Kilorn. Just the thought of swallowing anything right now makes my stomach rebel. It’s too late to turn around though, and the pace Gisa sets is not one I can diverge from. The war was laying in wait for me in the ballroom, and so was Cal. Whether or not I was ready, I’d have to face them both.

(////)

“Do you think they try to hide how uncomfortable they are?” Farley asks with a smirk behind her rim of her champagne flute. I glance in the direction of her gaze, noticing the small Silver delegation from Norta looking around like sheep on the hunt for a wolf. How odd to see them like that, the once powerful now so frightened. I snort at the though, power and strength my ass.

“Give them credit where it’s due,” Davidson replies for me, the laughter barely hidden in the voice, “They did come here, did they not?”

I nod quickly in agreement and sip at my champagne as well. Kilorn made sure I went slow, keeping my pace steady. I was already one half glass in. He’d noticed quickly what I was doing, and pinched my arm when he saw me cutting through my second one. I was only halfway through it now, and I had to resist the urge to tip it back and swallow it in one mouthful every few seconds.

“Well the least they could have done was pretend to be cheerful about it,” Carmadon says with a sigh next to his husband. No doubt he was disappointed in the Nortan showing. Kilorn had mentioned it was an even spread, but the Silver seemed outnumbered 10 to 1 by New Bloods and Reds alike. It certainly made for an odd group.

“They’re here though, it’s a start.” I murmur as I go for another sip. And it is a start, pitiful, but a start.

“Since when are you so optimistic?” Farley asks with another smirk. Rolling my eyes in her direction, I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her. She’s dressed like a General tonight, decorated with small insignia that she keeps adjusting uncomfortably when people look at it. She’s not used to weight of so many badges. They make her look dignified though, and underneath the slight discomfort, she glows with pride.

Behind me, I hear raucous laughter from Bree, his laugh unmistakable in the somewhat hush environment. I see a pair of bronze eyes from the Silver group flash that direction. They’re not the one’s I’ve been on the hunt for though. These are a little colder, a little more wary.

“Someone should stop Bree before he gets too drunk,” I say as I turn quickly to leave the proximity I have to Anabel Leralorn. To say that she wanted my guts spilled on this no wax floor would be an understatement. She probably wanted me painted on the walls and then thrown off the highest mountain for making Cal turn away from the path she had set him on.

I brush past Kilorn, who watches me carefully, and nods when he sees the hint of a smile I give him. He doesn’t believe it completely, but he’ll buy into it for now. It’s so strange seeing that from him. He used to think everything was so black and white, so crystal clear in intention, now he is starting to read beyond the first glance. I wonder if that is a good thing of a bad thing.

Making my way through the crowd, I brush elbows with elite Guard members who nod their head in my direction, and with red delegates from the People’s Council who smile brightly at me. I give each the same in return as I maneuver across the floor toward my brother who looks like he’s telling some drunk story or another to a group of Nortan soldiers. I wonder if he knows any of them from the front.

I pass a young Red who is not paying attention as he gestures backwards. His arm catches my shoulders, and I’m unprepared for the force of it. It feels like I got hit by a bar of steel. I stumble, midstep, and try to plant my foot to catch myself. I step on the edge of my dress though, the part that Gisa never could get to sit properly no matter how much she pinned and mended. I want to shriek, but no sound comes out as I end up going sideways towards someone else’s back. The champagne in my glass hits them before I almost do. It gives them a second of warming to at least begin turning around.

I prepare for the cold bite of marble on my hands and elbow, or the snip of glass on my palm when I land in shards of it. Instead, I end up almost horizontal, the person I spilled half a glass of champagne on just barely holding me up. They must have turned and caught me just in time, because my knee barely brushes the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” the Red sputters as he bends down to take my other arm and help me up, his face bright red. “I didn’t even see you, I honestly had no idea anyone was behind me-”

“I think by this point in her life she’s used to being out of everyone’s range of sight, Jordan.” Murmurs my savior. I tense at the sound of that voice. I know every cadence of it, every rumble, laugh, and gasp. Glancing up, I hope and pray I’m wrong. Fate has no such plans tonight though.

A set of bronze eyes, so much more lively than I remember from two months ago, look down at me. It’s then that I notice he’s smiling, and trying to hide a laugh at my situation. The prick, I think.

Both Cal and Jordan help me to my feet. I let out a mocking laugh at Cal’s comment, trying to cover the silence during the moment it took me to process that he’s here, and say, “Normally, they just feel me electrocute their ankles.”

Jordan’s eyes widen at my words and he goes another shade darker as he chokes, “Mare Barrow? I... Geez, I’m so sorry, this is... this is honestly the worst night of my life. I almost took out the lightning girl.”

“I’ve had worse hits.” I murmur to him, annoyed he is making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. I was fine, no one was hurt... other than Cal’s jacket. That could easily be fixed if he removed it though. The shirt underneath might be ruined too, that might need to go as well. I almost blush at the thought. Bad Mare, my mind screams at me in response to the direction I want to take with that notion.

Cal snorts in response to me this time, and I turn my eyes to him in annoyance. No puns, I want to growl. Jordan shakes his head quickly, looking to be on the verge of tears. He looks like he’s only a kid, maybe only eighteen. My stomach rebels for a moment at the thought, are they still drafting children? Before I can properly discern his age though, one of the people he was talking to throws his arm around his shoulders teasing, “You almost killed a legend, and managed to almost take out our commanding officer with her. You own them both a glass of champagne.”

“And a new jacket,” Cal teases with a laugh light as smoke. I watch him pull it off and turn it to look at the dark stain on the back. It takes a moment for me to process the whole conversation, my mind still hung up on the fact that he was here, standing next to me and neither of us had actually acknowledged the other yet.

“Commanding officer?” I ask incredulously, still trying to catch up. Jordan, his friend, and the other young woman behind them all stare at me with blank faces. I feel a blush creep to my cheeks. I should have read those stupid files Davidson had been sending me.

“Well, yeah,” the friend replies, “just our squadron though.”

My reply is as stupid as my question. “Oh.”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and see that he is blushing probably as much as me. This was not how I wanted that to happen tonight, but honestly, it has the same effect it always does. My stomach flip flops at the sight, and I want nothing more than to drag him by the front of his shirt behind those pillars off to the side. But I don’t want to at the same time. I’m not ready, and I am. I can’t handle this anymore, my own thoughts keep chasing themselves around my head. The alcohol certainly isn’t helping either.

Jordan glanced between the two of us, before something clicks. His friend elbows him softly, and then leans over about to whisper something. Cal cuts them off before anything can be said. “Why don’t the three of you go find someone else to knock over?”

The girl lets out a screaming laugh before grabbing Jordan and dragging him away. Out of the three of them, she seems to have the best grip on the social scene at hand. Jordan keeps looking over his shoulder at the two of us though as they vanish into the crowd. He looks like he might give himself a migraine trying to put his thoughts together.

“Sorry, Jordan is getting used to his strength, its a newer development.” Cal replies as he folds his jacket over his arm. A New Blood then, I catalogue the thought away. Davidson will want to know that more are popping up.

“He’s fine, he... seems young.” We stare at each other for a moment. I glance down at his jacket to avoid his eyes, and then grimace as I say, “Sorry about your jacket.”

He looks down at it as well. Raising a brow, he says, “I’ve got a few more I can wear, it’s not a big loss.” His eyes dance over my dress though as he says, “That on the other hand would be a big loss if it got ruined... where exactly did you find that thing? Did they use all the tulle in Montfort to make it?”

I press down on the skirts in annoyance and say, “Gisa made it for me.”

He purses his lips, and it doesn’t even take a heartbeat for me to see he’s trying to swallow a laugh. I set my hands on my hips in response, “I can always have her make you one. I’d like to see you try and walk around in this thing.”

“I would do it, and wear it better than you.” He replies, the laugh finally managing to escape. I smile in response, and I barely feel the pull of my scars. How do you do it? I want to demand. How do you make me forget my own body?

We standing then, smiling at each other like idiots in the middle of this party. He recognizes it before me, and then shuffles his feet before looking to the side. HIs eyes catch something, and he looks back with a crooked smile that makes my stomach drop to my ankles.

“Can you dance in that thing?” He offers me his arm with the question. I should say no. Whatever he has is mind it can’t be good, but honestly, I want to be wrapped up in his arms again. I want to be close enough to smell the fire and wood scent that clings to him. I want to drown in him.

Returning his grin, I slip my arm through his and let him lead me to open space where a few couples are dancing. On the edge of the dance floor though, Jordan appears on Cal’s other side and grabs his arm. He’s out of breath, and his eyes are wide. My skin princkles to life with electricity, and I see Cal’s hair stand on end in repsonse. He looks back at me, and I step up so that we are side by side facing Jordan. He only has eyes for Cal though as he chokes, “It’s Oliver, he’s about to get in a fight with some Monfort red. He must have pissed the guy off, and he’s like twice his size, but I didn’t-”

Cal is on the move before Jordan can even finish. “Lead the way,” He grunts to Jordan who immediately begins to weave his way through the crowd. I hurry after Cal, hiking my skirts up to my knees to keep up with his long strides. Damn his long legs, I think as I pushes his way through the crowd clearing a path for me without knowing it. People grunt and hiss at him, but he ignores all of them, and I have to apologize for him as we go. It’s such an odd shift in our dynamic. Normally I was the one to storm through a crowd with him trailing and smoothing everything over in my wake.

I spot Farley at the same times that she sees us. Her brow raises when she sees me chasing after an obviously hell bent Cal. She shoves her glass into Kilorn’s hand in response and starts to move parallel to us to find a way to cut us off. He hands them to Carmadon when he sees what she does and then hurries after her. Davidson spots our little party next and sighs before taking one glass from Carmadon and following us with his husband. They probably think Cal and I are on the hunt for an open space to butt heads. I have nothing to do with it, I want to cry like a child. It’s not my fault!

Jordan directs us out onto a balcony, and I immediately see the problem. A stick thin man is squaring off against Bree who looks like a bull about to charge. I throw my head back and almost stomp my foot in annoyance. A small ring is starting to form around them, mostly Red Nortan soliders, I notice. Cal pushes through them though, going straight for my brother, who seems to be the source of the problem. I see his error before he even acts.

“Cal!” I cry in warning as I try to run and grab his arm. It’s too late though. He grabs Bree’s arm and goes to say something to stop him. My brother is two inches taller than him, drunk, pissed as all hell, and spoiling for a fight. So, when he turns around, and his fist connects with Cal’s face, we all hear the crack from his nose breaking, and maybe even his cheek judging by the volume of the sound.

“Bree!” I scream as I put myself between the two of them. My brother looks down at me with narrowed eyes because I interrupted him. Bree had been a brute in the Stilts, and I had witnessed his fighting first hand when we were younger and he would wrestle me into the mud. His hits hurt, and honestly I would be surprised if Cal got up and walked this one off.

Bree’s cheeks are cherry red from the alcohol and the adrenaline from the fight. I glare up at him, and everyone around us watches in shock as someone who is only half his height stands up to him. His eyes dance over my shoulder, and he spots Jordan coming for him, screaming with a fury to defend Cal. I hiss in annoyance at the whole thing and then throw a bold of electricity in his direction over my shoulder. It hits him square in the chest and throws him back.

He sits up in surprise as he looks at me, and I shake my head before turning on my brother and spitting, “Have you lost every sense our mother gave you when you were born?”

His eyes are on Cal behind me though, who is picking himself off the ground. When I glance at my feet, Cal’s face is turned to the side so I can barely see his profile in the shadows. He pulls his hand away from his nose, slowly, almost hesitantly, like he’s not sure what’s going to happen. A gush of silver blood comes out and sprays on the marble though, and it doesn’t look like it is going to stop soon. One of the red’s makes a sound and is promptly sick off to the side. When Cal look’s up at me, I see why. I almost throw up too.

His nose is broken in almost three places, at the bridge between his eyes, slightly below that, and near the tip. There is already a dark black stain starting to make its way under both his eyes and along one of his cheeks.

Bree takes this in, and a heartbeat later throws his head back and howls with laughter. I flip around to glare at him, but my stare does nothing. He bends over, his hands on his knees as he gasps for breath around his laugh. Cal is not amused though. He tries to get to his feet but he ends up falling over his legs like a new born deer. I grab him to keep him from falling to the marble floor completely. I can’t even begin to apologize. Besides, I’m worried if I open my mouth, I’ll throw up.

“Heaven above!” Carmadon cries from the doorway of the balcony. I look up to see Farley, Kilorn, Davidson, and Carmadon watching the the whole thing. Bree spots them as well, and then with his words slurring into one long one says, “Kilorn, Farley! Come look at the Silver Prince! He’s not such a pretty boy any more! I told you all I was gonna hit him one day, and I did.”

My friend grimaces, and then edges out of the doorway and into the air that I just began to notice is cold. The reds move out of his way, and it’s then that I see they’re all wearing the same jacket that Cal was wearing. This was probably his squadron. Kilorn bends down to wrap his arms underneath Cal’s and says, “Come on Cal, lets get you inside.”

“I’m fine,” He says, and spits blood out as he does it. I notice a small gap in his teeth then. when I look down too, I can spot the small white object on the marble. He stumbles on his feet and almost falls, but Kilorn has filled out now, and he takes his weight with no problem. It’s then that I realize Cal has lost weight. Kilorn is almost as filled as he is. I blink in surprise at that, and watch as another member of the squadron runs up to Cal’s slide and slips his other arm over his shoulder. “We’ll get a healer,” he assures says. Cal snorts, and slurs, “I don’t need one.”

“Beg to differ.” Kilorn replies as he drags him to the side. I follow them quickly, glaring at my brother over my shoulder. He sways on his feet, and Farley grabs his arm like a mother and drags him in the opposite direction, hopefully to a room where he can sleep this off.

Cal leaves a trail of Silver blood behind him as we go. It’s all down the front of his shirt and smeared across his mouth. I grimace, hoping no one in the party notices. It’s just my luck that only one person does.

“Cal!” Anabel’s cry is like a wounded animal. She sprints across the room to him, and for a moment I fear she may obliterate Kilorn and the other red to take him from them. He smiles at her though, showing the gap in his teeth that makes her freeze in horror, as he says, “I’m fine Nanable, you should see the other guy.”

She goes so pale her skin almost goes black, and I fear she may faint. I step around her as Kilorn and his partner continue to drag Cal toward the other set of rooms. Davidson follows us, asking a waiter for a bag of ice, and to find Sara Skonos. The waiter hurries away with a nod.

“Some party,” I grumble, and Davidson laughs as he winks at Anabel who looks horrified at the scene. We pass into Davidson’s study and Kilorn pulls off his jacket as he sits Cal in a chair as then holds it up to Cal’s nose to stauch the blood flow. Gisa’s stitches will have to do for now.

The waiter appears at the same time, with what looks like a pillow sack full of ice. I take it from him and thank him before crouchiing between Cal’s legs and peeling away Kilorn’s jacket slightly to look at the damage. It’s certainly not pretty. I grimace as I press the ice to his nose. He hiss in pain, and then says, “Honestly, I was relying on my looks to talk with you tonight. This is throwing a big wrench in my plans.”

Kilorn snorts as he leans against the table next to him and says, “Dont worry, Sara will make sure you’re back to your perfect prince face before you know it.”

“Not a prince anymore,” he grumbles and I chew on my lip as I pull the ice away again to look at the bruise that is starting to creep up to his forehead. Geez, my brother did a number.

Sure enough, Sara Skonos floats into the room. She looks etheral in her dress, with her hair floating around her head. She sighs when she takes Cal in and then shoos me out of the way. I move to the side, taking the ice with me. She tilts Cal’s head to see him straight on and says, “What did you do, run head first into a wall?”

“The wall may have run into me,” Cal says with a smile, that shows he’s actually missing two teeth. Sara sighs and then looks at me with a suffering expression. I cant help but smile though. She goes to work then, and Cal hisses in pain as she starts with growing the teeth back. Anabel appears in the room then, closing the door behind her. She stays on the edge watching the whole thing.

A minute later, there is a snap, and Cal cries out in pain. I grab his hand in response, griping into between mine. His eyes dance to me for a second, and I squeeze in reassurance as Sara forces his bone back into place. It takes her a total of seven minutes to have him back to normal. Some of the bruising is still there from her putting things back in place, but it will fade in a few days she promises before breezing out of the room.

Cal’s grip on my hand is tight enough that I’m worried I wont be able to pull my hand from his. I dont want to though. I turn my hand to lace my fingers with his in reponse. He lifts his head to look up at me, his eyes searching my face for a sign of what that shift means.

Carmadon recognizes a moment when he sees one, just like he had months ago when we had first been in Monfort together. He grabs everyone, including Kilorn and Anabel, whispering an apology to her as he pushes them out of the room. He gives me a wicked grin and then steps backwards out of the room to slide the doors closed.

I feel my heart hammering in my chest as I look down at Cal then. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of me. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you that you looked beautiful tonight,” He whispers, his thumb caressing the space between my thumb and forefinger.

“That’s your concussion talking,” I say with an amused smile. He shakes his head quickly though, and says, “I regretted what I said about the dress the minute I said it. You look stunning in it.”

I tilt my head to the side and say with a laugh, “You’re a mess.”

He blushes again, and then uses the edge of his shirt that came untucked to start wiping the blood off his mouth. “You can say that again,” he murmurs before huffing in annoyance and almost throwing the edge down into his lap. I raise my brow and then slide in front of him before letting go of his hand to hike my skirts up. I settle into his lap, making his eyes widen in surprise. At least like this I’m almost at eye level with him.

Reaching up, I push a strand of hair that feel to the side, and then say, “You don’t look half bad either.” My heart settles in my chest as he sets his hands on my sides. I can feel the warmth from his touch, and it’s so achingly familiar that my entire body seems to sag with sigh at it. “Although you did look pretty bad with the broken nose.”

He snorts, then winces when his newly healed nose aches at the feeling. I cup his face in response and just hold his gaze when he meets mine. We simply watch each other for a moment. I lean forward, and his eyes flutter closed for a moment, but I simply avoid his face to whisper in his ear, “What do you want?”

He shivers, and his grip on my hips gets tighter as he replies, his voice aching longing, “You, always you.”

My heart pounds in response to the words as I pull back to look at him. His eyes have the same ache as his voice and I realize what I did when I left him on that tarmac. I left him an aching mess. A man with an aching heart, torn apart by his brother’s death, by my departure, by the loss of the only thing he had every known. I had been the constant, the thing he had been hoping to rely on, and I had turned that on it’s head when I left him.

My hesitation makes him pull out of the moment slightly. He looks at me hesitantly, so worried to have his heart broken when it’s just barely healed. “What do you want Mare?”

I lean toward him then, inhaling the breath he exhales. “You,” I breathe on his lips and his entire body goes into the movement as he closes the distance between us for the first time in our lives.

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differentjokes4differentfolks · 6 years

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WTFIT Chap 10

Chapter ten!! I think it’s safe to say the fic is more than halfway done :) As always, thanks for the comments and likes/reblogs. I’m glad y’all like the story. Enjoy!!

Bruce swears if Vicki Vale was a villain she’d be unstoppable. He spends an hour alone trying to dodge her questions, his phone ringing incessantly (How did she even get his number?). When the mob of reporters shows up on his front step he tries to have Alfred shoo them away, but they’re like vultures. The camera flashes annoy him to no end, you don’t need camera flashes in broad daylight anyway (he thinks). The interview goes on for about an hour. He doesn’t mind some of the questions, no, he’s not straight, yes, he’ll donate to LGBT organizations (he donates to them anyways). But some are insulting and honestly? Some are just straight up kinky. He ends up just staring at one reporter after a certain question about leather, at a loss for words. So, in a curt fashion he ends the interview, loosening his tie as he enters the manor and heaving a sigh of relief.

“What was that about?” Dick asks, dressed to head out to Barbara’s. His hair looks stiff with gel, which makes Bruce frown and mess it up. Dick protests but Bruce cuts him off.

“You look better like this,” he says, “You’re not going to an interview, you’re going to hang out with your girlfriend.”

“Fine. But why was the press here?”

“Why do they ever show up? For information and uncomfortable conversations.” Dick looks confused, so he decides to enlighten him. “People saw me dancing with a man yesterday at that restaurant and Gotham was in an uproar.”

Dick blinks. “You’re gay? Or bi?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Bruce laughs awkwardly. Dick shrugs.

“So what? Why do they have to make a big deal out of nothing?” He kneels down to tie his shoelaces. “I mean, it’s just who you love, not that world-changing. You should call them when you find out who Batman really is,” he jokes.

Bruce hums in agreement. “So what do you and Barb have planned?”

Standing up, Dick runs a hand through his already messed up hair. “You know, I was thinking we could sightsee. Or maybe watch a movie. Or stay at home and do something. I’m not picky.”

An idea springs into Bruce’s head. “Take her to a cafe. There’s a great one across Wayne Tower, they have really good cheesecake.”

“Really?” Dick furrows his brow. “I think I know which one you’re talking about. You’ve gone? Doesn’t seem like your kind of venue.”

“I had nothing else to do. And if I hadn’t gone I would’ve missed out.” He edits out the real story, but the last bit is true.

“Alright. Well, I should go. I’m taking the Lamborghini.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Don’t get it scratched up.”

“C’mon Bruce, you know me.” Dick winks. Yes, he does. As skilled a driver as he is, he’s still totaled a couple of Bruce’s best cars. “I’ll be back before nightfall.” He exits, leaving Bruce to slip out of his coat. Today is going to be a relaxing day, he promises himself. No going out, no phone calls, no anything. His eyes are half-shut when he falls onto the couch.

And then his phone rings.

With a groan Bruce looks at the caller ID. No name; it could be anyone really. Fine. He answers.

“Hello?”

“So I heard you were in the East End last night.” Selina. Bruce can hear the annoyance in her voice.

“I had a good reason. Scarecrow and Black Mask were there. They were going to poison the water system if I didn’t stop them.” Bruce turns on the TV, idly clicking on the remote.

“Really. And you didn't tell me?”

“I had a lot on my mind.” He stops flipping at a Harry Potter marathon. How many times have they marathoned this on TV in the past couple months? It’s almost constantly running. And if he’s exaggerating, it’s not by much. He leaves it on as background noise.

“Look, I appreciate you stopping them. Just tell me next time. When I saw Nightwing there I was about ready to knock him out. Didn't he tell you?”

He’d failed to mention that, actually. “Did he explain why?”

“Yes. I don’t like this, Bruce. It’s been so long since something like this has happened. Don’t get me wrong, taking a few millionaires down a peg or three doesn’t sound awful. But killing them all?”

“I know. But I’m going to fix it.”

“Tell me when you’re done, maybe we can do something, it’s awfully cold and the fireplace is roaring,” she purrs. Bruce rolls his eyes, but he can’t help a smile.

“You don’t have a fireplace.” The woman on the other end of the line laughs, and Bruce joins in. Once the laughter fades he says, “I’ll see you later, Selina,” the mirth in his voice audible.

“Bye, Batman.” She hangs up, her laugh the last thing Bruce hears before the phone clicks. She’s a valuable friend, he realises. He enjoys her company for what it is, upfront, witty, and relaxed. But it’s just that, that softer feeling of friendship, not unlike what he feels for Clark, or even Jim Gordon. He leans back on the couch, watching as Harry faces off against Voldemort. He can’t help but feel critical. Villains are rarely that one-sided.

Sitting on the couch got boring pretty fast. Countless pushups and crunches later and he feels more productive, though when he checks the clock it’s only eleven in the morning. What could he do to pass time? He glances at the phone. His finger taps at the leather of the couch rapidly. It might not be a good idea. It probably isn’t a good idea. But…

He turns on his phone, Joker’s number already in the contacts. The phone rings once...twice…

“Hello?” Damn, he’s not ready for this. It feels too casual all of a sudden. He hesitates. Joker’s voice is bright though. “Bats, is that you?”

“Hi, Joker.”

“It’s been a while.” It really hasn’t, it’s only been a few hours, but Bruce isn’t about to tell him that. “Oh, have you seen the newspaper, dear? We look amazing.”

“You saw that?”

“Saw it? I scrapbooked it!” Bruce can imagine the smug look on Joker’s face. He also thinks he knows the man enough that yes, he did in fact scrapbook it. He’s seen pictures up on the walls of his hideouts before, newspaper clipping and old Batman sightings from when he was just getting started. He still doesn’t know how to respond. It’s strange. “...You did call me, Batsy. Getting cold feet?”

“No.” Bruce’s defensiveness spikes. “You sound like you’re in a good mood, though.”

“Oh, I am.” Joker giggles. “Can’t compare to whenever I see your devilish good looks, but it’s a close second.” Shameless flirting. Okay. He can deal with this.

“Miss me?”

“Always.” Bruce can hear the smile in Joker’s voice. “My other half, the one who beats the crap out of me whenever I wreak havoc. When are we getting back to that, by the way? I miss our little sessions.”

Bruce snorts. “You miss that?”

Joker laughs. “Well that was an attractive sound. And yeah, I do actually.” He sighs. “Don’t you?”

As a matter of fact Bruce does. He hasn’t thought about it much, but it’s true. Fighting on rooftops in the rain, kicks and punches as fluid as a dance. Moves like reflexes. Adrenaline. “Yeah, I guess I do. This is the longest you’ve been around me without an actual fight.”

“Too monotonous.” A voice calls out in the background, Joker’s voice quieter as he tells the speaker to shut up. The voice answers back more animatedly, to which he replies with exasperation. Bruce figures it’s Harley in the background. He waits till the talking stops.

“So? What are you doing? Should I be worried?”

“It’s a secret. You’ll find out soon enough.” There’s a crash on the other end. Bruce frowns.

“What was that?”

“Darling, don’t worry about it. Trust me, you’ll like the surprise. I know I do.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Another crash. “Gotta go, I’m working right now. Ciao!” Joker ends the call abruptly, Bruce blinking at the short response. He’s suspicious, but knows he won’t get any answers until tonight. He slowly sets the phone down. And wishes the sun was setting.

He decides to let Tim come along tonight. He did a fair job in helping him and Dick out last night, and he does keep a level head for the most part. He’ll be working with Jason though, making sure there isn’t anything wrong at the Gotham Observatory, where the Gala will be held. Dick will be coming with him and Joker to the docks, but first he decides to check out Ace chemicals.

The weather is actually nicer today, the night still safe a slight breeze. There’s no report of snow, yet he can see a few flakes drifting in the cold October atmosphere. He breathes in the cold air, the sharp chill of it waking up his senses.

Bruce hasn’t visited Ace Chemicals in months. It hasn’t changed much, the plant only up and running half the time. Recently it’s been closed down for “remodeling”. He assumes that’s still the case, if it’s being used as a base. His instincts tell him it’s rigged in some way, but he won’t know until he gets closer. So he does, grappling to the top and looking in through a window.

The whole place is decked out in greenery, vines twisting about on the floor. Ivy. But there are also hints of something else, more Joker-ish in nature. A colourful box here, some toys strewn about. He purses his lips. Okay, so Joker has a hand in this. This must be the surprise he was talking about. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting it, the way he was talking earlier, and the fact that Harley was there. It’s a challenge. Just not one he has time for.

Bruce glances around, seeing a grate he can enter through. The closer he can get the better.

He’s inside when he hears Joker’s voice through speakers.

“What do you think, Bats? Interesting, right? Just wait.” A laugh.

Bruce takes out a few men, dodging and cutting at vines that rush at him. The factory only holds about a dozen thugs, not counting Harley, Ivy, and Joker. And it isn’t too big a complication. Though Ivy is obviously getting a kick out of it. There are plants everywhere. He can handle it, but those on top of armed henchmen he’s wasting time. He brushes by them, not discriminating, his goal just on the control room.

Harley lands in front of him, grinning. “What’s up, B-man?” She throws a punch, Bruce dodging and retaliating. Her blows don’t land, Bruce avoiding them easily, landing a hit. Harley grits her teeth, but instead of recoiling she uses the momentum for a kick. It hits Bruce’s side. He grunts, but the pain isn’t enough to stop him from knocking her back.

“Get back before I knock you out,” Bruce warns. Harley pretends to think about it.

“I think I’m good, you know? This is way more fun!” She jumps at him, landing a solid kick to his side. Again and Bruce blocks a second kick, knocking her away. She comes back in with a flurry of punches laughing as Bruce tries to block them. It’s when she lands a hit to his jaw that Bruce decides to act, ducking and throwing a punch at her stomach. In her haste to avoid the blow she missteps, and he takes that opportunity to pulls her towards him, twisting her arm behind her back.

She cries out in pain, and that’s when Ivy decides to join in. Large thorns erupt from the ground around them, Bruce stepping back with Harley. He makes quick work of tying her hands together, watching the floor warily.

“Gotta say, this is way more interesting than any movie I’ve seen!” Joker’s voice rings out. Bruce aims a look at the control room, narrowing his eyes. A vine snakes towards him, Bruce cutting it in two with a batarang. When Ivy reveals herself her eyes are blazing.

“How dare you hurt my babies?”

“And me,” Harley calls out. Bruce lets Harley drop to the floor, the woman falling with an “ow”. One of Ivy’s vines picks her up, placing her to a side before rushing at Bruce. He kicks at the plants, making his way closer to Ivy. Leaves slash through the air like throwing knives, a couple knicking Bruce, sharp like papercuts. He pushes on, avoiding thorny barriers and feeling as though he was walking through a deadly jungle.

It’s too late when Ivy realises Bruce has the upper hand, a few steps ahead of her. He knocks her to the ground, hand pinned on her neck. She hisses in anger, but he quickly places a blow to her temple that knocks her unconscious, her plants writhing before dropping to the floor. He glances up at Harley, who pouts.

“You’ll get what’s comin’ to you Batman! Just wait!” Her smile turns sly. Bruce drops Ivy off next to her, making sure they’re both bound tightly enough that they won’t get free any time soon. Time to go up into the control room. He steps over plants on the stairs, the windows streaming light. He guesses whatever he came for is there, as is Joker.

When he walks in there’s no sign of anyone, but he finds schematics of the observatory, as well as explosives and masks. Good, it’s all there. He places a tracker, knowing Joker is behind him the moment he hears a quiet click. He turns slowly. And his reflexes take over to avoid a kick to the head, a flash of purple that rushes past his eyes and causes him to jerk back. Bruce grabs at Joker’s leg, throwing the clown off balance and tossing him across the room. Joker hits the ground laughing, on his hands and knees. He stands up to run at Bruce again, a spark in his eye. Ducking before Bruce can knock him down, Joker doesn’t hesitate in throwing a punch that brings stars to Bruce’s eyes. He lunges again, a quick strike that gives Bruce only seconds to deflect. Another punch, a cuff to the head. He’s aggressive with his attack, Bruce waiting for the opportunity to retaliate. When he does Joker’s leg is just close enough for Bruce to kick at, throwing the man off balance. Bruce pushes him back with a hit to the chest that knocks the breath out of his lungs. Joker stumbles back, giving Bruce the opportunity to pin him against the wall, unable to attack again. The man gives a breathless laugh, eyes level with Bruce's.

“So, now what, Dark Knight?” he asks, resting his forehead against Bruce's. They're both breathing heavily, exchanging breaths in the messy room.

“You realise I'm running out of time, right?” Bruce frowns at Joker's careless little shrug.

“That's what your bat-brats are for, Brucie. You needed a little... distraction.” Joker smirks, Bruce not relaxing his grip. “Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it.” He places his hands on Bruce's waist, sending shivers through his body even through the layer of armor.

“Not the point.” He pulls back a bit, but Joker doesn't let him go, eyes half-lidded. His expression unnerves Bruce, but it also makes his heart beat rapidly, chest still heaving. “What are you doing?”

He barely has time to react as Joker presses his lips to his. Bruce makes a small sound of surprise.

This. This is crazy. He’s thought about it but now that it’s happening it’s all he can do not to short-circuit. A rush of warmth suddenly hits him and he melts, deepening the kiss and pressing against the wiry man. He cradles Joker’s face in his hand, feeling warmth through his gloves. Joker’s trying not to smile into the kiss, he knows that, he can feel it, that slight pull to his mouth that only makes Bruce want to kiss him more. He tastes of cotton candy and something slightly chemical, a metallic tang that should be a deterrent but isn’t. It’s just something that fits, surprisingly.

Joker loops his arms around to pull Bruce down towards him, nails scratching at his cowl. Bruce almost loses himself completely, but the nagging in his mind reminds him of the task at hand. Which, if he weren’t Batman he would ignore it, but being a hero...

“We have to go,” he tries to say, the words turning to a mumble as Joker recaptures his mouth. Bruce lets himself enjoy a few more seconds before he puts his hand to the wall to steady himself. When he pulls away, Joker lets out a quiet whine of annoyance. “Joker. The docks.” Joker opens his eyes, his makeup more of a mess than usual, his pupils dilated so that only a thin ring of green is visible around them.

“Five more minutes.” He grabs at Bruce, who pushes him away firmly. “Bats.”

“We need to get to the docks, J.” He makes to turn away when Joker tugs him back.

“Wait. You have lipstick on your mouth,” Joker says with a satisfied little smirk. “Now that’s a look I could get used to.” Bruce’s knows his face is flushed but Joker continues, pulling out a handkerchief. “Wouldn’t want your little bat-family to see though.”

He helps Bruce clean it off, Bruce protesting, “You don’t have to say ‘bat’ in front of everything.”

“Well let’s see. Batman, Batmobile, Batsuit, Batarangs, Batwing...kind of a running theme,” Joker points out. Bruce is unable to come up with a good comeback. The clown looks over Bruce until he can’t see any traces of paint. When he’s satisfied he nods, reapplying his own. Their breathing is steadier, though Bruce still feels like he’s floating. It’s an odd, light feeling, his nerves are on fire but in the nicest way possible. He smiles uncertainly at Joker. The man beams before kissing him again lightly. “Alright, we can go to the docks now. Nightwing is going to meet us?”

“That’s the plan.”

They head down the stairs, where they find Harley free of her bonds and cradling Ivy’s head in her lap, Ivy murmuring about how next time they should just plan a picnic at a garden. She glares when she sees Bruce, but Harley’s eyes are on Joker, whose smug expression is clear on his face. She winks at Bruce, who suddenly wants to sprint out of the factory, grapple onto a very tall building, and jump.

Instead he settles for a warning. “If I hear anything else from you two the rest of the week I’m dragging you down to Blackgate myself.”

Harley leans back, smiling crookedly. “We got it, Batman. We’ll be quiet as mice, won’t we, Red?”

“Stop hurting my plants or you’ll be in a body bag, Batman,” Ivy says, the severity of her gaze not lessening. Bruce nods.

“Noted.” He gestures to Joker to get a move on, the clown walking up to the Batmobile before him. They get in, Joker turning the radio on. He cringes when the only thing that plays is the police scanner.

“Please tell me you have music.”

“I don’t have time for music when I’m in this car,” Bruce says, thinking it obvious. He’s not going to jam out to tunes when people are in danger. That’s pure evil.

“It adds to atmosphere! Imagine racing after baddies listening to ACDC! Or maybe some obnoxious pop song, I don’t know. What kind of music do you like?”

Bruce doesn’t reply. Usually he listens to older tracks, unless Dick or Tim plays the newest song. But he doesn’t like anything specific really. Joker looks at him expectantly. “...Eighties music. Journey.”

Joker nods. “Not what I had in mind, but I can see that.” He opens the window, cold air rushing in. Whooping and laughing in delight, he sticks his head out, eyes closed. He only comes back in to ask how fast it can go. Bruce smirks, pushing down on the gas till they’re a blur. Joker finds himself pushed back into his seat, cackling at the rush.

One of the perks of being a vigilante? No one questions when you’re speeding.

The docks look the same as they did on Monday, though this time Dick waits for them near the entrance.

“You guys took your time. I’ve been waiting for at least fifteen minutes.”

Bruce glances at Joker, who raises an eyebrow. “There were...complications that held us back. Anyways,” he gestures to the clown. “Lead the way.”

Joker cracks his knuckles, rolling back his shoulder like he’s about to put on a show. “Gladly. Ozzie’s got eyes everywhere, but if we go through the docks he won’t expect it.” He strides into the maze that is the docks, humming the mission impossible theme. Dick looks at Bruce out of the corner of his eyes, but Bruce doesn’t respond, starting after Joker. They’re headed in completely the opposite direction, more towards the shipyards themselves then around the shipping containers, the slight creaking of the ships putting Bruce on edge. It makes complete sense that Penguin would have a ship though. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the need to be extra cautious, some of his worry from earlier this week making a reappearance.

When they arrive where they need to be Joker stops them, holding his arms out. He then points to a large ship that towers over them.

“That’s the one. If Ozzie is there then your job is done,” he says.

Dick squints at him. “Are you trying to jinx us?”

Joker scoffs. “Believe me, if I wanted you to fail you wouldn’t be here right now. I’m rooting for you guys.” He wraps an arm around Bruce, the latter jolting away. Joker just grins.

Dick looks at them oddly. “Right. I’ll just scope around the other side, see if I can find a different way in. Divide and conquer, right?” Bruce inclines his head in agreement.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” Dick runs off, Bruce following him with his eyes until he disappears. He turns to Joker after, crossing his arms. Joker raises his hands defensively.

“I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary you know. You’re the one who gets flustered. It’s a wonder you can keep any secrets.” He pouts. “Maybe you should just tell Grayson.”

Bruce sighs. Joker’s right, but there are more important things to take care of. “I will. After the gala. We need to finish this though, come on.” He sneaks on board, scanning the ship. Oracle hasn’t said anything yet, but he knows it’s just a matter of time. She’s usually on top of this.

Once on the ship they split up, Joker taking on half the men on the ship with ease, if not discretion. But at least the distraction helps Bruce take out his half. He joins Joker at the door, the man wiping blood off his mouth, sticking his tongue out at the flavor.

“These guys aren’t pulling their punches. Kiss it better?” he suggests, waggling his eyebrows.

Bruce rolls his eyes, turning to open the door and enter the ship. This is going to be a thing now, isn’t it. He should’ve expected it. “Later, maybe.” Joker closes the door after him quietly, Bruce just making out the words he murmurs.

“I can live with that.”

“How’s it going, Grayson?”

It’s Jason. Dick makes sure no one is around before replying. “It’s all going good. How’s it looking on your end?”

“It’s quiet. If this is where they plan on blowing up the wealthy then they aren’t very prepared. I assume that’s Batman’s doing.”

“Yeah. Hey, I gotta go, I’m on Penguin’s ship.” He hears footsteps coming towards him and hides behind a container, knocking them out the moment they step close enough.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell us if you need help.”

“Sure thing.” Dick shivers as he opens the door, the cold rushing out. Has Cobblepot never heard of heating? Just because your persona is Antarctic doesn’t mean you have to live at negative temperatures. Gotham isn’t even that cold yet either, why is there ice on this ship? Taking the cosplay way too far, Penguin.

The ship itself is huge, more than enough for one man. And henchmen. Dick barrels his way through at least ten just on the first deck, going down through a dark hall. Penguin is most likely in the center of the ship, if at all.

He sneaks through the ballroom, used now as more of a storage area, crates piled haphazardly on the once polished floor. He imagines the rest of the ship looks the same way. The ship creaks as it bobs on the water, Dick wondering just how old it is. Oswald Cobblepot isn’t known for buying things second hand, but it’s worn down. Not suited for a life of crime.

Bruce joins up with him further down, Joker still with him. Since Tim had mentioned the clown acting different Dick’s been studying him. He thinks Tim may have been right. Joker just leans against the wall like it pains him to stand upright, waiting for the next step. His eyes still have a dangerous flicker to them, but Dick isn’t so sure it’s aimed at him anymore.

“Have you found anything?” Bruce asks him. Dick shakes his head.

“No. He’s probably in the lowest part of the ship. It’s been a breeze so far, which worries me.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Bruce opens the door to the left of the trio, a door that Dick guesses is the boiler. He steps through, not waiting to see if the others follow.

It’s all grey. Cold metal everywhere, not a soul to be seen. Dick tries a different door and finds it locked, going instead through the grate on top. Bruce and Joker come after, and the three find themselves in a small room, another door at the end labeled Office.

“He’s in there?” Joker whispers. “Seems a little drab.”

Bruce does a quick scan. “He’s in there all right. The only thing is I know he wouldn’t just be here alone.” He looks somber, Dick not liking the expression but used to it by now.

“Should we just open the door?”

“You find a back way,” Bruce says. “I’ll go through the door...as a distraction if need be.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard if it’s just Penguin. I’ll wait out here,” Joker says. He slides down the wall, sitting cross legged on the scuffed up carpet. He closes his eyes in something that almost looks like meditation. Dick stares, the man before him more of a puzzle than ever, but he shakes it off. A look at Bruce proves it’s nothing the older man hasn’t seen before.

Dick sighs. “I guess I’ll go now, should be a grate or something right? I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” He exits the tiny outer room, back in the boiler. As it happens, there is an air conditioning system that spans out to the whole ship. And it’s just big enough for Dick to crawl through, frowning at all the dust and trying not to cough.

Penguin’s voice can be heard from somewhere underneath him, and he finds an opening in the corner of the room, where he can see the stout villain on the phone.

“They’ll never know what hit ‘em. This plan is foolproof... Yeah, I got the stuff, that blasted bat took a lot, but we should still have enough...no, it’s not here. You think I’d trust in these idiots enough to keep it safe. Don’t worry, I have it somewhere they won’t find till it’s too late.” Dick listens intently, a spike of worry travelling through him.

If the rest of the supplies he has aren’t here then we’re just wasting time!

He comms Bruce, murmuring “Ready.”

Bruce slams into the door to open it, Penguin jumping up in outrage. This was what Dick always enjoyed, Bruce making an entrance to unsettle the bad guys. Make a scene and people are either so scared or distracted that they won’t know what hit them. He opens the grate quietly and drops down behind Cobblepot.

The villain is obviously angry, but he’s smirking through his cigar all the same. “You think you’re so smart coming here?”

“Where are you keeping your cargo?” Bruce demands, closing in on Penguin’s desk.

“What cargo?” He puffs smoke into Bruce’s face, but his nose barely wrinkles in disgust. He grabs Oswald by the collar. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you where it is. After this!” He whacks Bruce in the head with the butt of his umbrella, having a heavy swing for such a portly man. Bruce drops Oswald, Dick wrapping his arm around his neck so he can’t move. The man squawks in indignation and surprise.

“Where is it?” Bruce says, glaring.

“It’s too late, you’ll never find it!” Dick tightens his grip on Oswald. “I won’t tell you, you can threaten me all you like! You think I’d just give it up...after all this...? Do you actually think...I wasn’t using everyone as distractions?” His breath comes in short gasps. Bruce nods at Dick, who drops him.

“You’re done here, Oswald.” He ties the man up, Penguin barking curses at him.

“You won’t make it, you’re too late!” Bruce growls, slamming him into the wall. Penguin growls, shaking his head in pain. Dick takes him from Bruce, glancing up at him.

“They’re not at the observatory, Robin and Red Hood would’ve found it by now.”

“I know.” Bruce snarls, punching at the wall. Dick starts, not used to this side of Bruce.

“You know we’ll figure it out, we always do.”

Bruce shakes his head. “I knew something was wrong, but I kept trying to push the feeling away. Bane had a plan, his chemicals, but it fell through. Then with Crane and his toxin, but we took care of it. Maybe... they haven’t been working together at all. Maybe we’ve been on a wild goose chase, and for what?” Dick scrutinises the man.

“Maybe this time you shouldn’t trust your gut. If you think you’re gonna fail what’s the point in trying?” Bruce glances at him. “This isn’t about Joker is it?”

Bruce shakes his head almost vehemently. “No. This is entirely different. I’m just...”

Dick’s seen Bruce go through this before. Though he can be a drama queen at times, he does also get weighed down by the job at times, loathe as he is to admit it. He places a hand on Bruce. “You’re tired. I get it, you can’t always put up a front. Trust me, I’ll be taking a break after this, and so should you. But Batman is bigger than this. And you’re going to have to put aside any uncertainties.”

Bruce stays silent for a long time before he nods. “You’re right. We can do this. We have time. But we won’t get anything done standing around.” He looks at the door, expression resolute.

Dick’s comm goes off before either can move. “Dick?”

“What’s up, Babs?”

“There’s a lot of activity over by the Asylum, might want to take care of that. Tell Bruce.”

“Yeah.” Bruce looks at him questioningly.

“Something’s come up at the asylum. Can anything else go wrong?” He sighs.

Bruce scowls, hand on the doorknob. “We’d better get over there then.” He opens the door.

Dick carries Penguin, who drifts in and out of a daze as they exit the room. Joker’s standing when they get to him.

“Nothing?”

“Just him,” Dick says, gesturing at Penguin. The clown grins, coming over and bending down to look at Penguin. The villain blearily looks at Joker, brow deeply furrowed and a scowl prominent.

“You finally caught him. One less thing to worry about, right?” He taps at Penguin’s head. “Shame he lost his hat though, I wanted a souvenir. What now?”

“I need to find the rest of the supplies, they spread everything around, most were just diversions. Now there’s something going on at Arkham,” Bruce explains, a tinge of anger in his voice.

Joker tilts his head to the side. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

Bruce clenches his hands into fists. “What else? We’re going to stop this and figure out what’s really going on.”

After all, if he doesn’t there won’t be a Gotham to really save, just rubble and chaos. And maybe Gotham could take it, but Bruce doesn’t want to let it experience that much destruction while he’s still around. He’s got a job to do.

#batjokes #batman #joker #wtfit #my writing #comments appreciated #thanks for reading!!#update on ao3 later

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the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt · 7 years

Text

Rum and Cupcakes (Epilogue- Part 3)

Well, this is it. The last chapter of Rum and Cupcakes is upon us. I can’t believe this is coming to an end. I hope you love how I ended our time with Emma and Killian. <3 @a-city-dove

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Epilogue: Part 1 Part 2

Ao3

Emma stood behind her sink in the bathroom connected to the bedroom she shared with Killian. She was finishing curling her hair in front of the mirror. Looking up at her reflection and deciding her hair was properly curled, she unplugged the curling iron and worked her slightly-curled and still warm blonde hair into a classy-looking but still casual updo. Emma dropped her hands when she decided she looked decent enough to go to a wedding, and she walked out of the bathroom to where Killian was wrestling with the cuffs of the white button-down shirt that was hugging his torso deliciously.

“Need a hand?” Killian’s neck craned to the side to look at his girlfriend. His mouth parted at the sight; her red dress (Ruby’s choice of color for her bridesmaids) framed her figure beautifully. Emma crossed her bare arms insecurely, and her cheeks changed color to match her dress. All frustration Killian had with his own shirt was banished immediately as he stared, completely in awe, at Emma.

“Swan.” He was near-breathless. “You look...” He struggled to find the right word. “Stunning.” She tried to hide the grin his words brought out, but he glimpsed it, even as she looked to the floor.

“Umm, here. Let me help you with that.” She avoided the compliment as she reached out and folded the ends of his shirt sleeves up. Emma said nothing as she grabbed the bowtie he had abandoned on the bed. She reached up, wrapping the fabric around his neck before tying it. She adjusted the ends of the bow until she thought it looked presentable. His eyebrow only made it halfway up his forehead before she answered the question on his mind. “David. I kinda picked it up one day. If he didn’t have Mary Margaret, I’d probably still be fixing his bowties for him.” Killian refused to take his eyes off Emma as he grabbed his suit jacket from where it rested on the bed next to him. She chewed on her bottom lip as he pulled on the jacket. Her eyes scanned him when he was fully dressed. “Wow. You look-”

“I know.” He grinned smugly as she rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for being my plus one.” The carpeted floor really wasn’t as interesting as she was making it out to be.

“Of course. I’m honored you asked me.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes again. “Who else was I going to ask?”

“You didn’t have to invite anyone. I’m honored you decided I was worthy.” He took a step toward her.

“You ready?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.” Killian’s arm found its way around her waist as they left their apartment together.

The ride to the wedding was quiet. The only sounds were the soft roaring of the car as it accelerated, and Killian’s soft humming as he picked up the tune of whatever pop song came on the radio. Killian’s speaking voice was so jarring in the quiet of the car Emma almost jumped at the sound.

“You alright, love?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Just thinking.” She slouched back in the passenger’s seat and stared out the window. “I can’t believe Ruby of all people is getting married.”

“And before you?” Emma jerked up and shook her head.

“Not what I meant.”

“But you were thinking it.” Emma didn’t answer; he wasn’t wrong. She hated herself for the thought. She was becoming one of those girlfriends who sits around waiting for and daydreaming about their boyfriend finally proposing. She was never one of those girls, and then Killian came along. Her hand darted to the necklace around her neck; she still wore the swan cupcake every day. She figured not thinking about her own relationship was the best course of action.

“I’m proud of Ruby for settling down. She deserves it.”

“The lass did seem rather enthused when she first told you about the lady Dorothy.”

“Dorothy’s good for her. I didn’t think Ruby would ever have a big, fancy wedding though.” She considered the thought. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She loves a good celebration.”

“Just try to enjoy yourself tonight.” Emma opened her mouth to defend herself, but Killian knew her too well. “I know you, Swan.” She crossed her arms.

“Maybe.”

“Promise me you’ll at least try to have a good time.” She didn’t respond. “Come on now, Swan.”

She huffed out a breath in defeat. “Fine. I’ll try.” He seemed pleased with himself. “But no promises.”

Emma was technically one of Ruby’s bridesmaids, but Ruby chose to let Emma sit with Killian during the ceremony. Ruby was still celebrating Emma and Killian’s relationship, and she was going to take advantage of her position as one of the brides. Emma would never let on, but she was actually glad Ruby forced her into a seat. For one thing, her heels were killing her. Ruby insisted Emma wear the freakishly tall red heels that she claimed “made her legs look hot,” but Emma’s legs and feet protested the choice of footwear the second she slipped them on. And then there was the fact that Emma loved every second she spent with Killian. She happily took her seat beside him when the ceremony began. Ruby looked fabulous, which was no surprise, and Dorothy was absolutely beautiful. The brides couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Emma slipped her left hand into Killian’s lap as she listened to Ruby recite her vows, which were romantic and laced with the perfect amount of humor and innuendo; even Dorothy couldn’t take the wolf out of Ruby. Killian’s right hand grasped Emma’s left mere moments after he felt the back of her hand on his thigh. He kept his palm tight against hers as he ran his fingers over her knuckles. Not long after, Emma’s head came to rest against his bicep, almost on his shoulder. She separated their hands only to wrap her left arm around his right one, which she was leaning on for support. When he felt her still, he took her hand in his once more. He unconsciously took two of his fingers and traced her ring finger. Neither Killian nor Emma made the connection.

Emma and Killian sat at their assigned seats at a table close to the one at which the brides, who were now sharing their first dance, had previously been seated.

“That really was a lovely ceremony.” Both Emma and Killian watched the newly married couple move gracefully along the entire length of the dance floor.

“It really was. I’ve never seen Ruby so happy.” Emma tore her eyes from the dancing couple as the song ended. She looked at Killian, whose eyes were still transfixed on the dancers. He let his eyes drift to his girlfriend as the song changed; Emma’s light emerald green eyes were focused on him. He moved his baby blue eyes to meet her gaze.

“Love?”

She ripped her eyes from his. “Sorry about that. Just-”

“Thinking?” He finished her sentence for her.

“Yeah.” The two sat in silence; Killian’s hand went to that spot behind his ear as he stood up. “Where are you-”

“Let’s dance.” The scratching ceased as he held out his hand for her. Emma stared blankly at him. “Come on, Swan. It’ll be fun.” She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “It’s going to be a long night if you’re planning on just sitting there.” No answer. “Please,” he pouted, sticking his lower lip out just about as far as it would stretch. Emma sighed and leaned over to remove her heels.

“I can’t slow dance,” she stated as she stood up. He chuckled and closed his hand around hers.

“No worries, love. There’s only one rule in dancing.” She raised an eyebrow in silent question. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He positioned their joined hands and snaked his other arm around her so the palm of his hand rested against her back.

“Are you telling me you know how to do whatever this is?” Her free hand gestured to the other dancing couples. He responded by pulling her closer to him and gently lifting her so her bare feet rested atop his shoe-clad ones. He swayed back and forth to the music while Emma stared at him in disbelief. He winked at her before he started moving his feet, hers moving with his by default. She gave in and rested her free hand on Killian’s shoulder.

He always read her mind. “Liam. He had to learn to dance for the royal galas he would attend as part of the royal navy.” Killian’s cheeks tinged pink as he thought of his next statement. “Liam needed someone to practice with.” The smile spreading across Emma’s face was worth the embarrassment.

“You slow danced with Liam?”

“Aye.”

“You’re such a good little brother.” She couldn’t quite hide the amusement in her voice.

“Younger brother,” he corrected.

“Younger. Sorry.” Emma’s smile still hadn’t faded. Keeping her grin steady, she rested her head against his chest and moved her hand from his shoulder to his back. She leaned into him as he continued swaying them tenderly and stepping lightly.

She stepped off his feet halfway through the next song, but she didn’t move any of the rest of her body from where it was pressed against him.

“You alright, Swan?”

“Yeah. I just - I just can’t believe I’m dancing. With you. At Ruby’s wedding.” Killian paused their dancing. “No, don’t -” He nodded and began dancing again, picking up right where he left off. “This is my life now.”

“I do hope that’s a good thing, love.”

“It is.” Killian grinned and removed his hand from her back. Before the look of confusion could fully form on her face, he raised their intertwined hands and twirled Emma. She laughed a wonderful, genuine laugh as her red dress highlighted her movements. When she stopped spinning, she pulled Killian in for a hug, her nose and cheek nuzzling against the top of his dress shirt where the buttons would be undone, exposing an unfair amount of chest hair, if it were a different occasion. Emma almost groaned against his chest when the song changed again, this time from a slow song to a faster one. She and Killian separated their bodies, but neither of them ventured away from their little corner of the dance floor. “Killian?”

“Swan?”

“Dance with me?”

“Of course.” Emma took both his hands and swung her hips to the beat of the music. He bobbed his head, taking immense pleasure in watching Emma lose herself to the music. Her own head joined her hips in rhythmic movement, and she moved their entwined hands up and down with her shoulders. She even closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she danced. Killian was completely enamored at the sight. “Hey, Swan.” Her eyes shot open. “You appear to be a natural.” He kissed the blush from her cheeks as it appeared. Emma hesitated, but began dancing again. Killian danced with her as much as he could manage to a fast song; he spun her around before sliding his hands from hers to rest at her waist. He pressed his forehead to hers and they both smiled. Killian’s eyes shifted to Ruby and Dorothy; Emma followed his gaze. “That’ll be us. One day.” Emma let out a hum of agreement. “We can have all this.” He shifted to stand behind her as they watched the guests dancing to some pop song Emma vaguely remembered hearing on the radio once or twice before. Killian pressed a kiss to the crown of Emma’s head and rested his chin there, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Is this what you want? One day?”

“I don’t know.” They kept their position. “I think - maybe?” Emma thought about it, shaking her head despite Killian’s chin pressing into her scalp. “Killian, I - ” she spun around in his arms, “I don’t need any of this,” she gestured to the reception. “All I know is that I want to spend my life with you.” Killian didn’t want to risk stopping her confession by speaking. “I don’t care how it happens. I don’t need a big party, in fact, I’m not sure I want one. I just want you.” Killian let her talk. “This wedding stuff just scared me. But then I realized I didn’t need to be afraid of all this stuff anymore because I - I freaking love you. More than anything in the world. And I do want this, not the party, but the happily ever after. And I want it with you. Because I love you, Killian Jones.” He saw the tears threatening to spill from her now-sparkling eyes as he laced his fingers through her hair, thoroughly wrecking the hairstyle she had adorned all day, and pulled her face to his. He captured her upper lip between both of his and kissed her. He kissed her furiously and passionately until he felt wetness on his cheek and realized those tears he had previously seen broke through their barrier. They were both shaky as they pulled away, their lips sticking to each others’ until the last possible second, trying their hardest not to separate. He wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb and kept his face as close to hers as possible.

“I love you too, Emma Swan.” She laughed as she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She knew her hair and makeup had to be total messes at this point. “Fancy a walk outside?” She nodded and followed him out of the building. Neither of them looked up or spoke again until they were safely outside.

“Wait, Killian, I need to fix all this.” She pulled the pins and hair ties from her hair.

“You look gorgeous, Emma. As always.” He took a tissue from his pocket and dried her eyes. “Back to perfect.” Killian led them over to a bench where they sat in silence for a few minutes. Emma curled up in Killian’s lap and undid his bowtie and the top three buttons, skimming her fingers over the newly revealed chest hair.

“Better,” she mumbled against his chest. He kissed her head and rubbed soothing circles on her back. When they both felt normal again, they built up the strength to stand up.

“What do you say we head home a bit early?” His hand was still moving on her back.

“I think that would be a good idea.” They went back inside to bid farewell and congratulations to the newly married couple before climbing into Killian’s car and making their way home. They were both exhausted from the long day, and emotionally exhausted when they arrived back at their apartment. Both of them drifted to sleep almost immediately upon crawling into bed and tangling their limbs.

A month after the wedding, Emma brought a box of Nutella cupcakes to her date night with Killian. He insisted on a romantic evening out after they both had extremely busy weeks at work. She worked diligently to make a special batch of cupcakes for him, trying not to overthink her plans. She agreed to a candlelight picnic on The Rolly Joger as Killian captained them out to sea. They were going to meet at the docks immediately after work. She changed into a slim black dress while her cupcakes cooled, and she frosted them extremely carefully so she didn’t get Nutella over her date night outfit. She left her hair down; he loved the slight wave it had naturally, and she knew how much he liked playing with the ends of it as it fell over her shoulders. He was waiting for her when she arrived. He wore black pants and a black vest. The new leather jacket that she had gotten him for his birthday made the look complete.

“Good evening, Swan.” He kissed her cheek as he embraced her.

“Hi, Killian. I brought you a little something.” A look of delight danced across his face; he already knew what was in the box.

“Thank you, love.” He led her onto the boat where he had already prepared a blanket, two lit candles, and two glasses of rum. “You look incredible.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She sat on the blanket as he got the boat moving. He sat across from her when he was confident they wouldn’t drift too far or capsize. “This is really nice.”

“Why, thank you. I thought we were in need of a night of romance.” He lifted her chin to maintain their eye contact when she looked down in embarrassment. “I know I see you every morning and every night, but I still missed you.”

“Me too.” She took a sip of her rum and tried to calm herself.

“Just thinking?”

“Something like that.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“It’s not like that. I’m fine. I promise.” He nodded and moved to sit next to her, coiling his arm around her and pulling her close.

“It’s a lovely night for a sail.” They gazed at the sunset, then the constellations together as he brought out homemade dish after homemade dish. Emma had no idea how he pulled that off without her knowing. She sat back against him the entire night, not letting her back move from his torso for even a second. She twisted around to face him as he grabbed the box of cupcakes. She bit her bottom lip as he peered inside. “Swan?”

Her response was a soft whisper. “Yeah?”

“What’s this?” He picked up the center cupcake and held it closer to the candlelight.

“About that, uh…” She gestured for him to give her the cupcake. She curled her legs under her and sat up straight. He got up on his knees across from her. “Killian, the first few times I met you, I never thought we’d get along. Ever. But you refused to fight me, and you were a friend despite my grudge. You fought every wall I put up, and you broke them all down, even the ones I tried desperately to reinforce. You were - still are- my best friend, and I honestly don’t know what I ever do without you. And I don’t want to know. So, Killian Jones, would you marry me?”

“Isn’t this a bit backwards?” Killian was beaming, his smile spreading from ear to ear.

“I got tired of waiting.”

“Well when you put it that way,” Killian stood up and scooped Emma up into his arms. “I’d be honored to marry you.”

“Yes?”

“Absolutely.” She wasted no time craning her neck so she could attach their lips. The kiss was romantic and full of promises- promises of a future together: of many more breakfasts, literary quotes, movie nights, late night sails, and infinite Nutella cupcakes. He put her down only so she could clean the frosting from the silver band she bought him before she slipped it onto his finger, she noticed the emotion flash across his face as the silver band skated over his scars. He composed himself momentarily and got down on one knee. “Now, it wouldn’t be fair for the lady to be deprived a proper engagement ring, but you rather beat me to the punch, Swan. Nonetheless,” he fiddled around in his jacket pocket before displaying a diamond ring. The ring was simple, a silver band with a single diamond in the center, but it was everything she ever wanted.

“Yes!” He didn’t even properly ask her yet, but she was already crying tears of joy.

“I haven’t asked you anything yet, my love,” he chuckled.

“You don’t have to. It’s a yes. It’ll always be a yes.”

“You’re depriving me of a dashing proposal, dear.” Her eyes pleaded with him to just skip the speech, put the ring on her finger, and kiss her senseless. He sighed as he placed a kiss to her left hand. “Alright.” He slid the ring onto her finger and kissed the spot where the ring met her knuckle. She pulled him to his feet and jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He leaned up into the kiss, Emma’s head now above his with the way he lifted her. Their lips made a loud sound in protest as they pulled away to breathe.

“I love you, Killian.”

“I love you too.” Killian put Emma down so they could lie together on the ground and cuddle under the stars. Emma unconsciously played with the cold metal on her finger. She went through most of her life thinking no one wanted her, and then Killian came along, and he cared for her so deeply, it terrified her. But Killian’s support and feelings for her never wavered, not once, and she had finally found someone who loved her, damaged and all. Killian ran his fingertips over the smooth of the band on his finger, a sharp contrast to the rough bumpy scars from his burns. He fought back tears as he switched between the textures, one reminding him of a dark past he wanted nothing more than to forget, the other reminding him that he found love with Emma, who could overlook his hard past and promise him a future. Both of them were broken when they met, and the more they learned about the other person and the closer they got, they put each other back together.

It was late when they got back to shore after hours of celebrating their engagement out on the water. They had a small, seaside wedding with only their closest friends and family in attendance, and, true to Emma’s promise, Roland was the ring-bearer. Killian’s vows had been eloquent and full of romantic quotes from classic literature. Emma was pretty sure every single person there was moved to tears, but she couldn’t say for sure because her vision was blurry with her own crying. Emma tried to keep the mood slightly lighter. She incorporated humor as much as possible, the guests loving her short anecdotes from when she couldn’t stand the thought of Killian Jones. She detailed their relationship development from enemies to best friends to lovers. Thinking back, it really did make a wonderful story. And to think, it all started with rum and cupcakes.

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lynchgirl90 · 7 years

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@TVGuideMagazine @Kyle_MacLachlan & @DAVID_LYNCH on the long-awaited return of #TwinPeaks.

When David Lynch and Mark Frost’s surreal Twin Peaks debuted on ABC in April 1990, the nascent World Wide Web was not yet a delivery service for instant feedback—or spoilers. Audiences found themselves frustrated yet intrigued with having to wait, week after week, to learn clues about the trippy show’s central mystery: Who bumped off small-town bad girl Laura Palmer (played by Sheryl Lee)? But even in today’s era of information overload, Showtime has unveiled only the most cryptic of teasers about the much-anticipated 18-episode revival, leaving fans waiting yet again.

Returning star Kyle MacLachlan, who revisits his lead role as unorthodox FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, also has remained mum on what Coop’s beat will be. Is there a new murder? Is java-loving Agent Cooper still seeing apparitions? Will anyone’s deceased soul find its way into a drawer’s knob? (Yes, that actually happened—along with jazzy dance breaks, soul-stealing supernatural entities in jean jackets and lots of ebullient appreciation of doughnuts and sandwiches.) “I wish I could tell you more,” the actor says with a laugh. “I’m just incredibly excited about what people’s response is going to be.”

Here’s what’s known: It’s now 25 years after the Northwest community of Twin Peaks parsed out the demise of homecoming queen Palmer, with her last seven days rumored to provide a crucial clue to the new narrative. Lynch is directing and cowriting—with producing partner Frost—all 18 installments of the limited series. So how was it to be back in the director’s chair? “Close to heaven on Earth,” says Lynch (below, with the late Miguel Ferrer). “It’s like a feature film divided into parts, so in order for it to hold together, it should be [made] by the same bunch.”

In fact, fan faves such as Mädchen Amick (Shelley), Sherilyn Fenn (Audrey), Kimmy Robertson (Lucy), Harry Goaz (Deputy Andy), Dana Ashbrook (Bobby) and James Marshall (James) are all back. “We’d see each other, and within seconds it’d be like no time had passed at all,” says Lynch, who also reprises his role as comically hard-of-hearing FBI Chief Gordon Cole. Plus, a bevy of new faces in secret roles adds star power to the 217-person cast, including Jennifer Jason Leigh, Naomi Watts, Richard Chamberlain, Ashley Judd and Laura Dern.

This incarnation also marks a TV milestone: The first two parts are making their debut this month at the Cannes Film Festival, the first time in the fest’s 70 years that series television will be shown alongside glitzy gala movie premieres.

“I love revisiting the world and the characters of Twin Peaks,” Lynch says, noting the reboot might not all be set in the town we once knew. Given the various celebrations and fan sites in the show’s honor, so do many viewers. How good is your recall on Twin Peaks?

Here’s your ultimate A-to-Z guide to the seminal drama—including some cool trivia. Cherry pie and cup of joe optional. (Additional reporting by Jeff Pfeiffer)

Angelo Badalamenti The American composer nabbed a Best Pop Instrumental Grammy in 1991 for Twin Peaks’ haunting main theme. Another fun fact: He’s scored six of Lynch’s films and even has a small role in one of them: 2001’s Mulholland Drive.

BOB, aka Killer BOB This evil ghoul from the supernatural realm (Frank Silva, left) possessed Laura’s tortured dad, Leland Palmer (Ray Wise), and eventually, per the final moments of the ABC series, Agent Cooper. Lynch cast Peaks’ set decorator Silva in the pivotal role after spotting him in a mirror’s reflection, which would later—prophetically—become BOB’s creepy visual signature.

Carlton Cuse The Bates Motel cocreator admitted, “We pretty much ripped off Twin Peaks” to capture the tone of the Psycho prequel. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!

Diane Keaton The Oscar-winning actress directed the not-very-well-received Season 2 episode “Slaves and Masters,” which wrapped up shady businessman Ben Horne’s (Richard Beymer) bizarre delusion that he was a Civil War hero.

Emmys Peaks won a pair of trophies (for costuming and editing) but was nominated for a whopping 18 total, including drama series, leading actor (MacLachlan), leading actress (Piper Laurie as Catherine Martell, the town’s sullen saw mill proprietor) and supporting actress (Fenn, as teenage seductress Audrey Horne).

Fire Walk With Me The maligned 1992 big-screen prequel film—which has since developed nearly as much of a cult following as the series—starred Lynch, Kiefer Sutherland and singer Chris Isaak as agents investigating the murder of Teresa Banks (the show’s other initial murder case) and tied into the last week of Laura Palmer’s short life.

Great Northern Now known as the Salish Lodge and often flocked to by superfans, the rustic inn seen in the lush opening credits has been renovated into a chic resort and spa that overlooks the Snoqualmie Falls near Seattle.

Horne’s Department Store Audrey’s job at her dad’s retail outlet in Season 1 led from her becoming a swoony Lolita-type into a full-fledged spy, infiltrating his secret brothel after discovering that salesgirls were being lured into prostitution. Scandalous!

Invitation to Love The faux soap opera watched by several Peaks characters often mimicked the series’ own storylines, including one involving a twin cousin. (Lee also played Laura Palmer’s more demure, brunette cousin, Maddy Ferguson.)

Johnson, Shelley After auditioning for the role of winsome high schooler Donna (played by Lara Flynn Boyle, who is not returning for the revival), newcomer Amick (now starring on Riverdale) so wowed the producers that they created the role of put-upon Double R Diner waitress Shelley just for her. She quickly became adored by fans.

Kiana Lodge The Poulsbo, Washington, locale was used for the Great Northern’s interior shots and as the Blue Pine Lodge, which was a residence shared by Catherine, her goofy fisherman husband, Pete (Jack Nance), and the sultry Josie (Joan Chen), a Chinese émigré with a dodgy past who famously kept a low profile in the industrial township.

Log Lady The recently departed Catherine E. Coulson’s memorably deadpan mystic—who shared a very special connection to her beloved wood—helped Cooper by giving him clues throughout Laura’s murder investigation. The Log Lady (seen right) was famously spoofed in an episode of the Rob Morrow series Northern Exposure.

Man from Another Place, The As the key resident of Cooper’s dream-induced Red Room, Michael J. Anderson’s scary-cool “dancing dwarf” spoke in backward riddles and proclamations. (Our favorite: “That gum you like is going to come back in style.”) He later inspired a memorable bit on The Simpsons.

Northwest Passage This was the original name of the pilot script written by Lynch and co-creator Frost. Not as catchy!

One-Eyed Jacks Owned by Ben Horne and run by madam Blackie O’Reilly (Victoria Catlin), this casino was best known for peddling drugs and hookers and, most importantly, for being one of the last places its young employee Laura Palmer was seen alive.

Project Blue Book Agent Cooper was briefed on this real-life 1950s–1960s secret probe into UFOs conducted by the U.S. government, which he was told included activity around the perimeter of Twin Peaks—hence all the ghostly goings-on.

Queen of Diamonds The famous playing-card royal served as inspiration for Audrey’s outfit at One-Eyed Jacks on her first night as a new hostess…which almost ends with Audrey’s being “broken in” by the owner, who is (gasp) her father!

Roadhouse The show’s biker bar hosted several clandestine rendezvous, as well as Cooper’s meeting with the Giant (the main figure in Cooper’s many dream states), the ill-fated Miss Twin Peaks pageant and musical performances by Julee Cruise’s ethereal house chanteuse (who also sings Peaks’ main theme, “Falling”).

Silent curtain runners High-strung town weirdo Nadine (Wendy Robie) served as its resident inventor too, including this unusual solution for the screech heard when opening draperies.

TV Guide Magazine Twin Peaks placed No. 20 in our 2004 countdown of TV’s Top 25 Cult Shows. (Yes, we know it should have been higher!)

Uproar What happened when fans didn’t find out who killed Laura in the Season 1 finale or even the Season 2 premiere. BOB’s deadly deed was finally revealed in the November 10, 1990, episode, but by then, the low ratings proved more lethal than he was.

Violence Despite the fact the primetime show was on a broadcast network shackled with standards-and-practices regulations, eyebrows were routinely raised for its unflinching portrayals of domestic abuse, electroshock torture and, indelibly, the signature image of Laura Palmer nestled in a body bag.

Wrapped in Plastic This same image in the show inspired the title of rocker/devoted fan Marilyn Manson’s 1994 song about dysfunction, which also samples Laura’s screams from the series finale. A meta treat for fans.

X-Files Before the truth was out there, David Duchovny (left)—then dating actress Robertson, who plays baby-voiced police secretary Lucy—made his television debut portraying trans FBI agent Denise Bryson.

Yamaguchi, Fumio The actor credited with playing Season 2’s mysterious Japanese real estate investor “Mr. Tojamura” turned out to be a fake! All along, it was series regular Piper Laurie’s believed-to-be-dead Catherine in full-on Mission: Impossible–level disguise. Had us fooled!

Zen It proved to be the preferred mental state of dogged crime fighter Agent Cooper, whether he was calmly dictating into his prized tape recorder or hanging upside down to meditate. Will he still be as cool 25 years later?

Twin Peaks, Series Return, Sunday, May 21, 9/8c, Showtime

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#Twin Peaks #Kyle MacLachlan #Agent Cooper #David Lynch #Showtime

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mastcomm · 4 years

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The Best and Worst of the Grammys

The 62nd annual Grammy Awards on Sunday were going to take place in the shadow of a scandal: the removal of the Recording Academy chief Deborah Dugan 10 days before the event and the stinging allegations of misconduct at the nonprofit that oversees the awards that she outlined in a complaint to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. Instead, they took place in the aftermath of tragedy: the death of Kobe Bryant in a helicopter crash at 41. The host Alicia Keys was tasked with responding to the basketball star’s death on-air; she chose to make a statement about “respect” after what she called “a hell of a week,” too.

Here are the show’s highlights and lowlights as we saw them.

Best Coronation: Billie Eilish

It’s been a long time since a phenomenon as talented, authentic, complex and delightfully of-the-moment as Billie Eilish took over the Grammys. She turned five of her six nominations into wins, victorious in all four major categories (album, song and record of the year, plus best new artist), becoming the first artist to sweep since Christopher Cross in 1981. At 18, she’s the youngest person to win album of the year. It is all richly deserved: “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?” redefines teen-pop stardom, as Jon Pareles wrote in his review of the album. Eilish (working with her producer brother, Finneas O’Connell) digs her shapely talons into the conflicts that throb in our minds like her meticulously constructed tracks: anxiety and confidence, love and terror, fairy tales and reality. She is a genuine melting pot of pop history — goths, rappers, confessional singer-songwriters, all tucked into baggy clothes that defy all kinds of stereotypes. “Why,” she cried into the microphone as she accepted her first televised award, for song of the year. “Aye yi yi,” she started her second, for best new artist. “Please don’t be me,” she mouthed as album of the year was being announced. Finneas spoke up during their speech for the LP: “We wrote an album about depression and suicidal thoughts and climate change and being the ‘Bad Guy,’ whatever that means,” he said, “and we stand up here confused and grateful.” It was simply proof that sometimes the music industry does get it right. CARYN GANZ

Best Flown-in Flute: Lizzo

Ever the savvy trouper, Lizzo maximized her opening slot. “Tonight is for Kobe!” she proclaimed at the start, then launched into her screaming, rasping, sobbing, pealing “Cuz I Love You,” in a monumental black dress. An orchestral interlude threatened to turn “Truth Hurts” into Grammy kitsch, but it was just long enough for a costume change — then Lizzo was back with rhymes, skintight sequins, dancers and kiss-off sass. A flute descended on a plastic tray; she played just enough showy trills and runs, then growled harder to finish the song. If a prime-time network audience hadn’t already known who Lizzo is, they knew now. JON PARELES

Worst Use of an Award Presentation: Comedy Album

It’s conventional wisdom at this point that the Grammys are more of a concert special than an awards show, but presenting the trophy for best comedy album on a night where only nine awards were given over nearly four hours was absurd. On Sunday, that insult to musicians was compounded when Dave Chappelle won for the third straight year in the category — it’s not like they were giving a new face some shine — and then compounded once again by the fact that Chappelle, who might’ve at least given a speech to remember, did not even show up. (Poor Jim Gaffigan, and also every smaller artist in a genre category whose life would’ve been made by accepting a Grammy onstage.) Tanya Tucker accepted on Chappelle’s behalf, giving a halfhearted “I’m sure he thanks y’all.” Right. Sure. JOE COSCARELLI

Best Call to Arms: Sean (Diddy) Combs

There were only the faintest hints of skepticism at the Grammys on Sunday, only the mildest acknowledgment of the controversies that have been engulfing the Recording Academy for the past two weeks, and really, the past two years. Saturday night, however, Sean Combs received the Salute to Industry Icons Award at the Clive Davis and Recording Academy’s Pre-Grammy Gala, and Diddy did not mince words. “Truth be told, hip-hop has never been respected by the Grammys. Black music has never been respected by the Grammys to the point that it should be,” he said. “For years we’ve allowed institutions that have never had our best interests at heart to judge us. And that stops right now.” He issued a challenge to the Recording Academy to make radical changes in the next year, and urged his fellow artists and executives to be part of the evolution. And if things don’t change, Diddy’s predictions were dire: “We have the power. We decide what’s hot. If we don’t go, nobody goes. We don’t support, nobody supports.” JON CARAMANICA

Best Example of Someone Coming to Play: Tyler, the Creator

Taking the Grammys seriously is usually a fool’s task, yet there was something extremely endearing about the way Tyler, the Creator rose to the occasion, and beyond it. His red carpet look was crisp bellhop. His performance, of “Earfquake” and “New Magic Wand,” was fully engaged and rowdy. His best rap album acceptance speech was pointedly warm. And his backstage pressroom interview was frank. He received a lot from the Grammys last night, but he gave much more. CARAMANICA

Best Rock ’n’ Roll Mess: Aerosmith and Run-D.M.C.

It was not technically good. But it didn’t have to be good: It had to be insane, and on that point, it delivered. Steven Tyler side-skedaddled over to Joe Perry and dragged his scarf-draped mic stand around the Staples Center. Run-D.M.C. broke through a wall of bricks that looked like a prop from a middle school play. Everyone seemed to be yelling, record-scratching and guitar-soloing in the wrong key, at the wrong tempo, in the wrong decade. But the crowd was grinning and dancing, swept up in some magical blend of nostalgia and Tyler’s frontman charisma. (Two younger women in the front row were literally swept up by the latter. Cringe.) This was the party the Grammys have been trying, and failing, to capture for several years: the power of rock ’n’ roll lunacy, compressed into seven minutes of riffing, screaming and nonsense. GANZ

Worst Self-Cover Version: Aerosmith and Run-D.M.C.

Television cameras and headphone listening were merciless to Aerosmith, who paired up with Run-D.M.C. to recreate their shared 1986 remake of “Walk This Way,” which recharged Aerosmith’s career and introduced hip-hop to many rock fans. That was a long time ago. After Aerosmith plodded through “Livin’ on the Edge” — though Tyler playfully dragooned Lizzo for an impromptu audience singalong — Joe Perry fumbled his indelible opening riff for “Walk This Way.” Run-D.M.C. joined in for colliding vocals, overenthusiastic turntable scratching, incoherent solos from Perry and audience-participation high jinks from Tyler. It looked like fun, anyway. PARELES

Best Internet Fever Dream: Lil Nas X and Co.’s ‘Old Town Road’ Medley

Like most of what Lil Nas X has accomplished in the last year, his epic performance of “Old Town Road” at the Grammys was not primarily about the music. Instead, he attempted the magic act of making memeability translate to network television, and he more or less pulled it off, relying on an intricate rotating set where each door led to another layer of winks and smirks: BTS, underutilized but still electric, did its “(Seoul Town Road Remix)”; Mason Ramsey and Billy Ray Cyrus kept their SEO alive; and Diplo pretended to play a banjo, adding about as much as he did to the success of “Old Town Road” in the first place. For the close-watchers and “Road” completists, there was the empty chamber, featuring a green slimy skull, where Young Thug should have been, and rather than detracting from the unity, his absence just gave us all a chance to breathe amid the MDMA explosion. COSCARELLI

Worst Silencing: The Prince Tribute

FKA twigs learned pole dancing to make her video for “Cellophane,” adding it to an already impressive movement vocabulary. She is also, however, a songwriter and singer who explores complex intersections of carnality, power and devotion — as Prince did. So she was an intriguing choice to join a tribute to Prince, billed alongside Usher and Sheila E. But Prince’s music remained a man’s world on Grammy night, with a three-song medley that was a teaser for a full-length Prince tribute planned by the Recording Academy. The band added Vegas embellishments to the basics of Prince’s arrangements, Usher did the lead singing and some Prince moves, Sheila E. added percussion and FKA twigs only danced: lithe and precise, but merely ornamental. “Of course I wanted to sing,” she wrote on Twitter, but she took what she could get. PARELES

Best Combination of People Who Actually Know One Another: The Nipsey Hussle Tribute

In a show that included no shortage of tear-jerking and maybe too many musical/visual/emotional whiplash moments, the tribute to the Los Angeles rapper Nipsey Hussle, who was killed last year, at least had coherence on its side. Meek Mill started things off with a crisp verse that led seamlessly into an appearance by Roddy Ricch, a surging talent from Nipsey’s own neighborhood, before John Legend did his instant-gravitas thing. DJ Khaled shouted some aphorisms, YG showed off his impeccable style and some local inter-gang unity and then the gospel-crossover king Kirk Franklin brought the wave of emotion home with a choir in white and gold. Above the stage, a portrait of Nipsey was set next to one of Kobe Bryant, another hometown hero. All of these things make sense together, which is more than can be said for a lot of Grammys moments. COSCARELLI

Worst Sense of Pacing: Everyone Who Performed a Slow Song

I’ve complained before about the preponderance of ballads at the Grammys and this year was no exception. We get it: you’re a real musician whose songs are sturdy enough to be played on a grand piano. It’s not that, in isolation, any of these belted slow songs were especially bad, but between Camila Cabello, Billie Eilish, Demi Lovato, H.E.R., Tanya Tucker and Alicia Keys, the repeated down moments were just too down for a show that can already feel interminable. And at least half of those women are capable of lighting the place on fire à la Tyler, the Creator, so to see them stick with safety just feels like a missed opportunity, while also preventing any one minimalist performance from being truly showstopping. On the other hand, if ballads are the key to keeping CBS viewers tuned in, skipping over album of the year nominee Lana Del Rey, whose “Norman ___ Rockwell!” was full of modern-day, lightly subversive torch songs, was extra foolish. COSCARELLI

Best Simplicity: Tanya Tucker

The Grammys love their ballads overmuch — see above — but Tanya Tucker’s “Bring My Flowers Now” needed only her leathery twang and co-writer Brandi Carlile’s piano chords and vocal harmony to tell its story. After 20 years between albums, Carlile and collaborators convinced Tucker, now 61, to record again. The song greets looming mortality with pragmatism. “Don’t you spend time, tears or money/On my old breathless body,” she sang, her voice lived-in and completely convincing. PARELES

Worst (and Worst-Timed) Statement of Emotional Fidelity: Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani

The rictus ran heavy throughout “Nobody But You” by the real-life couple Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. A country singer and a flexible pop singer, they don’t have any natural musical chemistry, and this performance was dry and awkward. That it was the first music played following the musical tribute to Kobe Bryant only made it grimmer. CARAMANICA

Best Guitar Heroics: Gary Clark Jr. and H.E.R.

“This Land,” by the Texas blues-rocker Gary Clark Jr., confronts hostile neighbors with property rights. Backed by the Roots, Clark blasted its blues-reggae riff, snarled the lyrics and played the kind of overdriven solo that drew screams from the audience. It’s what he’s known for; he was back for the show’s “Fame” finale. But it was H.E.R. — a recent Grammy darling for her old-school musicianship — who made the surprise attack. Her song “Sometimes” started, like so many others on the show, as an unadorned piano ballad about overcoming obstacles; a mini-orchestra joined her. But as the song built, suddenly H.E.R. had a guitar in hand and she was making it wail and shred. It was just eight bars, but it made its point completely. PARELES

Worst Encapsulation of the Way It Used to Be (and Hopefully No Longer Will Be): ‘I Sing the Body Electric’

This is the final year of Ken Ehrlich’s 40-year run as the show’s executive producer, which means this might be the final time we see a precision-executed, umpteen-minute-long so-called Grammy Moment that scrambles together rappers, singers, dancers, Grammy stalwarts (Lang Lang! Gary Clark Jr.!) and music students … and that would be just fine. CARAMANICA

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mastcomm · 4 years

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The Best and Worst of the Grammys

Here are the show’s highlights and lowlights as we saw them.

Best Coronation: Billie Eilish

Best Flown-in Flute: Lizzo

Worst Use of an Award Presentation: Comedy Album

Best Call to Arms: Sean (Diddy) Combs

Best Example of Someone Coming to Play: Tyler, the Creator

Best Rock ’n’ Roll Mess: Aerosmith and Run-D.M.C.

Worst Self-Cover Version: Aerosmith and Run-D.M.C.

Best Internet Fever Dream: Lil Nas X and Co.’s ‘Old Town Road’ Medley

Worst Silencing: The Prince Tribute

Best Combination of People Who Actually Know One Another: The Nipsey Hussle Tribute

Worst Sense of Pacing: Everyone Who Performed a Slow Song

Best Simplicity: Tanya Tucker

Worst (and Worst-Timed) Statement of Emotional Fidelity: Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani

Best Guitar Heroics: Gary Clark Jr. and H.E.R.

Worst Encapsulation of the Way It Used to Be (and Hopefully No Longer Will Be): ‘I Sing the Body Electric’

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#Entertainment

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