Taylor Swift - Mother Imagines (GxG+P)

4.0 | Your Mothers Daughter (requested)

But not for you.

Being left to your own devices was dangerous, mainly by the way you were feeling. It was getting harder recently, and your mom was paying close attention to you. Scared of your own self, you started to sob uncontrollably. Not measuring the volume, you accidentally woke Taylor up, who came running towards your room.

"Hey Babygirl, what happened?" She asked.

"Mom!" You were able to let it out "I'm sorry if I woke you up, I- di-didn't mean to burd-"

"Respectfully, shut up. You're my priority and you know that." You glanced at the clock "even if it's four in the morning. Do you want to talk to me, baby?" She asked.

"No, not exactly." You lied through your tears. God, there were so many things you wished you could tell her. So many words could describe how you were feeling, but you wouldn't use any of them.

"Are you sure?" Taylor hugged your sides.

"Yeah, I'm sure." You said back.

"Well.. do you want me to be here until you've fallen asleep?"

"That actually sounds great."

"Okay then, lay back down please" you looked concerned, thinking you weren't going to be able to fumble your own mother by your lack of sleep, but she caressed you until you were sound asleep, something that distracted you from the pain, the burnout feeling, the miserableness that you felt. Your mom decided not to wake you up to go to school, because she thought you deserved a break. Though, when you woke up, you freaked out on her because you had practice, and recently your coach, Miss Mirande, told you how much work ahead of you there was, for the upcoming tournament. She managed to point out everything that was wrong with you and how you needed to get better if you really wanted to be recognized as a softball player. Jesus, she even said you needed to fix your ankles, like??

"WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP?" You scream at Taylor.

"Y/n, calm down."

"DO NOT FUCKING TELL ME TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN. I MISSED PRACTICE AND FOUR CLASSES ALREADY. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ABOUT HOW MUCH TROUBLE I'M IN?"

"You're not in trouble. I am your mother and I decide when you're in trouble and when you're not. The school doesn't have this type of power over you. And I've justified your lack of attendance. You need to rest."

"I don't need to fucking rest!" You manage to get it out, not screaming anymore.

"Really? Then why did you wake up at four in the morning crying and sweating? Honey, I know it's my first time living life just like you, but I'm thirty five, you're sixteen. Listen to me, please." You silenced yourself "I know I raised you to be an independent and smart young woman, but please, don't strive for perfection just because you know you can reach it. You and I both know you're top of your class and that you're an amazing athlete! I mean, how many festivals and competitions have you won?"

"They are a team matter, mom." You said.

"But no one can win a game without a shortstop. You need to be fast on your moviments. You're responsible for catching and fielding, and I guarantee you, you're one of the best in the game."

"Funny you say that, you seem to be the only one." You laugh miserable.

"How come?"

"Nothing, it's just Miss Mirande. She said something that stung a bit. Nothing really."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing really, just that I needed to get better. And fix my core. And strengthen my ankles. And stop my flat reactions." You let it out, tired of talking to your mom how much of a failure you are. "Can we talk about this later?" You said, holding back your tears.